dividers: @saradika-graphics and @uzmacchiato (lmk if I forgot to do anything for your dividers!
a/n: im honestly a bit disappointed with this chapter, i think it doesn't show what i wanted it to show properly, and it wasnt proofread but whateverrr... ALSO advice appreciated!!
alfred's plan is coming into place.... dun dun dunn
prev. next.
Dick always thought he was a good older brother.
He attended parent-teacher meetings for Damian when Bruce was fighting Joker, he let Tim rant about the frustrating dead ends on a new case - hell, he even could get Jason to lighten up, through jokes and comforting pats.
So why couldn’t he recognise his little sister? Why didn’t he remember you performing on a stage, like these awards said?
He had been standing in his baby bird’s room since lunchtime. Dick fell asleep on your bed, wanting to remember your face - all his dreams were of you, of how young and innocent you used to be.
Were you still like that? Would you still look at Dick like he was the kindest soul you knew?
It was terrible, he knew, how he couldn’t tell a stranger from his sister. Dick tried to recount all of the interactions he’d had with you, but all he could remember was when you first came - with that smile. That familiar bright smile that could light all of Gotham.
But he couldn’t see that same smile in the photos.
Dick really wanted to know which one you were, he really did! No matter how hard he squinted or sighed, no one was standing out to him. In every picture, there were at least 5 common faces. It was impossible to deduce who his baby bird was.
Maybe he’d keep waiting for you to come home. Where were you? You’d been gone all day!
You didn’t leave him, did you?
No. You wouldn’t do that to him. Dick sighed. Maybe Jason knew.
Dick remembered how close you and Jason used to be. He had to know.
If he didn’t know, he’d bring up the matter at dinner. Someone had to be checking in on his baby bird! Dick pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found Jason.
Jason zoomed through the city, his motorcycle roaring through the now-quiet streets of Gotham. He had just finished a mission, taking down a big drug operation that was on the down-low. As he rode through the streets, his phone started to ring.
Dick. Dick was calling his phone. Jason ignored it the first time, planning to call him back when he was back at his apartment - but Dick just continued to blow up his phone, sending some texts that he couldn’t read since he was still riding. Jason pulled over, groaning as he answered the next call from him.
“Dick, I’m in the middle of something-” Jason complained into the phone. He was tired and just wanted to relax.
“Jason.” Dick cut him off, his tone worried. “Have you talked to Y/N recently?”
Jason raised an eyebrow, concerned but still closed off. “No. Why would I? I haven’t been over much anyway. What’d she do?”
Jason leaned back against a nearby wall, watching his surroundings carefully.
“She didn’t do anything, it’s just-” Dick sighed, taking a breath. “I went to find her, and she’s not in the manor. I haven’t seen her around in a while, and I don’t think she’s been here in a while.”
Dick’s voice was a bit quieter now, almost regretful.
“Grayson, she’s around; you probably missed her. She might have gone out.” Jason suggested, softer now but still firm. “Have you checked her room?”
“Yep. She’s not here, but-” Dick answered, his brows furrowing. “Can you believe she sang? She even performed musicals and plays - I don’t remember any of it.”
That caught Jason off guard, though he didn’t comment on it. After a moment of silence between the two, he spoke again. “I’ll come over. Tell Alfred to set another plate out for me, I’ll stay for dinner as well.
They both said their goodbyes before Jason hung up, sitting back on his motorcycle. Had you really not been seen? Jason knew you both hadn’t been close since he came back. It was better that way - so why did he feel like he missed out?
Maybe more happened to you than he thought.
You lie in the hot sand, your swimsuit contrasting against it beautifully. The sun was bright, glowing like it could feel your emotions. You’d been sunbathing with your best friends for hours, talking about where you planned to go next.
Last week, you and your friends had decided that a nice, warm vacation would be great, especially since your birthday was coming up. Yesterday, you celebrated with them. You didn’t have a cake, but being with your friends was enough. They had been close to you since you were in Gotham Academy, immediately clicking with you through personality and interests.
They knew how hard it was for you in the Batfamily, and how isolated you were to them. So, they became your family. They were like your sisters, even if not blood-related.
Of course, you couldn’t just leave the manor without telling anyone; you’d feel terrible if Alfred had no idea where you were. So, you told him the day you and your friends decided to go on a birthday vacation. He agreed, of course, cheering you on. You were positive that the Batfamily wouldn’t notice you were gone - after all, they never had before.
So, you left for the vacation 2 days ago, one day before your birthday. It was amazing so far, and you knew Alfred would tell them if they truly needed to know where you were.
You and your friends got changed into some comfortable but cute clothes to go out to dance at a nearby club. As you walked into the club, you smiled. Maybe you could start becoming more than just ‘the one who wasn’t trouble.’ You could be more than just Y/N Wayne.
Little did you know, back in Gotham, things weren’t going to be as smooth as you thought.
The Wayne Manor buzzed with chaos, everyone talking over each other.
Dick had told the whole family about you and how he hadn’t seen you in a long time, and others started to realize the same. How they hadn’t had any interactions with you, weird or not. They hadn’t even seen you!
After a few minutes of loud conversation about it, which was more like an argument, Bruce spoke up.
“She couldn’t be far. Tim, when you’re done, check the cameras.” Bruce said, his voice firm and commanding. When Tim hurriedly went to stand, Bruce shook his head. “When you’re done. We need to think first; this may be a misunderstanding.”
Begrudgingly, everyone quieted down, seemingly in thought. When everyone finished eating, they headed to the living room, all back to talking about you. It wasn’t often they talked about you.
Alfred watched nearby, the gleam in his eyes hard to read.
Tim had gone somewhere else, seemingly to his office, to find some information. After about 5 minutes, he called everyone in.
Bruce stood tall, though it looked like there were loads on his mind. He wasn’t this inattentive with his own daughter, was he? He was Batman! His entire life was to pay attention and strike back.
Somewhere in the back, Steph and Cass stood, preparing themselves for the information to come. Tim’s tone had been hard to read, so there was no way of telling if it was good or bad news.
Damian huffed. This had to be a ploy for attention. A stupid one, at that. If it really wasn’t, he would be surprised. He didn’t think you were this pathetic.
Despite his actions and face saying one thing, the worry in his stomach said another. His fist tightened by his side.
Dick was closest, Jason behind him with crossed arms.
On Tim’s monitor was a post from your social media. Seemingly a more secret one, considering none of them had seen it before.
The photo on the post had bright colored lights on the ceiling, with you and your friends toasting some alcoholic drinks.
You couldn’t drink yet, you were too young! What were you doing at such a dangerous place?
The caption on the post made Bruce clench his fists.
‘To my found family, the ones who listened during my dark times!’
The rest of the caption was tags to other people in the photo.
What did you mean, family? They were your family! Not those… replacements.
They’d make sure you realized that.
taglist hehe: @specklesreid @lovebug-apple @dubidumzy (CLOSED, more was added teehe)
(tell me if anything is spelt wrong in your tags!)
TW: Yandere Behavior, past neglectful behavior, mentions of past abuse, mentions of religion.
Yandere deadbeat father who was a real work of art, once abandoned you and your momma for his side chick now is preaching about Christian values and how important family is.
Yandere deadbeat father who has apparently changed for his so called new family while leaving you in the dust like you never existed. Never once reaching out to apologize or make up for lost time oh no hed rather just ignore your existence like you aren’t their.
Yandere deadbeat father who doesn’t see you until Christmas where you were supposedly invited by his ma. And god he didn’t realize how much you’ve grown since he last say you (he did leave when you were about 9)
Yandere deadbeat father who akwardly approaches you. Not knowing what to say or do but he didn’t expect and cold nod of acknowledgment nor you practically ignoring him! (God did your mama ever teach you manners!)
Yandere deadbeat father who doesn’t attempt to interact with you after that, only hearing snippets about your life back in the city. (since when did were you interested in art? And what do you mean his baby has a girlfriend/boyfriend! Oh golly you are to young!)
Yandere deadbeat father who realizes how much he’s missed out on your life and childhood because he decided to go fuck around and drink (god he could still remember your face as he slapped your mama when she got to roudy)
Yandere deadbeat father who insists on letting you stay with him and his family for the time being until your winter break ends (he’s gonna make sure to slash your tires so you ain’t gonna go nowhere)
Yandere deadbeat father who has your guest room decorated more childlike. He wants you to feel like home after all!!
Yandere deadbeat father who insists on you spending more time with him so he could finally get to know you better and the more he learns the more he loves you.
Yandere deadbeat father who encourages his family’s more obsessive behavior towards you, he just wants them to love you as much as he does that’s all!
Yandere deadbeat father who doesn’t plan on letting you go, not again no you’ll be his baby forever!
Ps: trying to refine my writing skills so I decided to make this little Drabble with a Yandere deadbeat!
*SENSETIVE TOPIC! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSETIVE!
IMP: character death, angst, no happy ending, neglect, weight shaming, insecurities, apperance shaming,
It's cold as usual, the manor was gigantic too big for just a small group of people to live in, your side of the house felt like a ghost place.
The wind wouldn't stop blowing inside, no matter how hard you tried to find it's source the feeling of coldness hitting your back kept on occuring over and over.
Wearing jackets doesn't help, the wind always return and always seems to blow in such ways that it felt like it was desperately kissing your back with it's usual coldness.
You stood near the rusted window, looking out into the garden. Your hands hold onto the molding curtains.
Staring at the sight of the oldest son and the second youngest playfully - one sided - fighting.
Dick Grayson was the oldest of the family, the first person everyone went to whenever everything went down hill.
The second youngest was Damian Wayne, he was something else... Completely different from Dick yet Dick seems to adore him more due to the obvious difference.
Your smile halted as your eyes wandered onto the curtain, your scrummy little hands were grabbing onto to.
Black and white together, the black at the centre and white at the edge spread all across the light yellow curtain like paint drops... Molds were something no one would thought to see in the Wayne's Manor.
Yet it was there infront of you, have been for a while... Maybe two months? You couldn't pinpoint when they started to harmonized with you, settling in your room like it was meant to be.
Alfred doesn't clean your room. He never did.
Ever since you've arrived he hasn't even step or have seen your room, he avoid your side of the manor like a plague.
So, your room have been collecting every type of germs throughout the years and suddenly molds began to form... Great.
Going outside your room the coldness intensified more than every yet you didn't shiver. You were used to the coldness of the house.
Walking into the kitchen you opened the fridge only for it to slam back shut, your fingers almost caught by the door.
You looked up at the person, Alfred. His usual smile glared at you with something else as he adjust himself.
"Master (___), you mustn't snack too much".
His word's sharp. You couldn't understand why it was so wrong to snack... Everyone eat as much as they want, why can't you?
"Why?"
You asked confused as he shake his head in disappointment, like your questions clearly had answer writtin on his forehead.
"You'll gain unnecessary weight master... It's unpleasant to be improper but a little more weight and you might... Tho it is your choice"
He doesn't dare to complete his word either, maybe he was afraid you'll cry or worse complain to Bruce. Tho, everyone knew he didn't like you.
Alfred doesn't seem faze at all, his own words didn't bother him rather he looks like he stated an obvious truth no one wanted to hear.
"Jason does it... So does Dick"
A sigh left Alfred mouth his hands rested on your back now, patting you there with his eyes focus on you.
"You're not them, they exercise daily. You don't. Looking at you already it's apparent that you need to fix your diet, young master"
You look down at your body in confusion and shame, you looked fine. You were healthy, weren't you?
"I look... fine"
You mutter out. Fidgeting with your hands you began to pull on the skin at the side of your pinky, to distract yourself from the embarassment.
"It's quite normal for our minds to lie to make ourselves feel better, such instance include your mind morphing into pure delusion... Like thinking you're in the same catagory of looks to your other family members."
Your mouth gap open abit as you inhale from your mouth, your blood went cold and yet your skin was burning hot.
You bit inside your cheeks to stop yourself from thinking the worst but the way Alfred began to form a smile as your figures become smaller was terrifying.
Maybe he was right, maybe you are indeed putting on weight and cannot see it. Maybe you aren't as pretty as you thought you were... Why is his words getting in your head for?
You nod awkwardly as you walked away, wanting to be away from the kitchen as soon as possible...
Later that evening, as you were outside sitting on the concrete part of the step legs touching the perfectly grown grass you felt a presence behind you.
You've been sitting outside for hours, not wanting to step inside the house ever since Alfred said that.
You've been picking at your skin to try not to cry yet it was painfully obvious that you cannot hold back much.
Touching your cheeks and you felt that they were heavy, too big and feels large on your hands suddenly.
Your stomach pocking out didn't feel natural anymore rather it feels wrong... You wanted to suck in but that wouldn't help the truth.
The fats around your thigh and arms were bothering you now, measuring it with your tiny hands which didn't fit around them, your hearts sank deep inside you.
Alfred was right, you're gaining weight... Some people are still pretty even with some weight but... But him mentioning that you didn't even fit to be in the same catagory on terms of beauty with anyone in the family told you otherwise.
Even if you loose weight or gain, you'll still be the obnoxious one thinking they are pretty cause their siblings are... When it's clear as daylight they aren't.
You turn back to see Dick, flashing his usual smile and wave at you. Not noticing or refusing to acknowledge how small you were becoming.
On his left hand was a small package of cold treat of sweets.
He settle next to you as his eyes wanders onto Damian training, even when he indulge himself with you he always look at the others.
But yet with them he always pay full attention. It was as if he only indulge himself with you because it was his duty as the oldest and not because he wanted to.
Placing the cold package near you he shove the spoon on your hand.
"Everyone else rejected. Eat it up, don't wanna waste good treats like this"
You look at the package and pick it it up, slowly turning it from the logo to the percentage board.
You've never been one to check such things rather you always eat anything offered to you, yet your new behaviour doesn't strick any warning to Dick.
Staring at the fat percentage you were reluctant... Saturated fat, transferred fat, amount of sugar... everything was two digit or almost... You sigh.
You were hungry. So Fucking hungry.
Yet your hands, eyes, body, part of your mind was telling you that starving for only abit was better than eating whatever offered to you like a dog.
Putting the package down on the cement floor with the spoon on top you gently push it to his side.
"I rather not, im not hungry"
His eyes narrowed at your words. His smile frown down abit, staring into your soul. He took the package and stood up.
"Why are you so ungrateful?".
His questions too sudden and completely new to you, you couldn't answer... You couldn't process anything and why he was mad.
"I-"
"If anyone offered you, you should take it like someone with manners. You got nothing else if you don't have manners ".
He was calling you plane. You have nothing else, not beauty, not a good physice , no talent, no skill... A nobody amongst them meant you're trash at the bottom of the sea.
He threw the food in the bin and walked away, leaving you dumbfounded. Biting on your lips, biting hard. For a normal person you would have bleed out from the place you bit yet nothing came out.
Your lips were cold, the tip of your fingers were too. Like you've spent the day in antartica...
You've been sitting outside under the sun for hours yet the cold and wet feelings wrapped around your skin never left.
"Why... is it cold?"
You ask yourself, as you look at Dick who was chatting with Barbara with his usual smile.
Like what happened now was just your imagination. Like he didn't just berated you for refusing his offer. He didn't ask why, he didn't try to understand, to him what you present on the outside is the maximum amount he was willing to see.
Yet, when everyone else was making mistakes he took his sweet times to understand, stand by their side... Why was he so reluctant with you?.
He always was hesitant with you. Taking Damian's side when he hit you 'accidentally'... He was on the opposite side of yours always.
"... Go inside"
A new voice ring into your ears. Turning back you look to see who it was.
It was Jason, hands in pocket. His presence in the manor was countable with just one hand... Seeing him was rare.
"Huh?"
You asked, confused.
"You're the least appealing thing to stare at, do the world a favour and stay indoor".
He sounds so unbothered, unlike Alfred who tried to smile at you atleast this was different. Jason face didn't bear anything fake rather he sounds serious.
Your relationship with Jason was the worst among the siblings.
When you first arrived he wasn't present, for a year straight you didn't even knew who he was and how he looked.
Until the day you were sitting outside Bruce office as you have been asking his reason for missing your import speech on parents day.
You remembered, standing infront of hundreds of kids and parents. Your heart pounding against your chest as the mic that was hold by it's stand was infront of you.
It was even hard to swallow your saliva yet your smile was radiant. Some people taking a picture yet no one from your family to be seen.
You tilted your head around looking lost yet no one... You hold the hem of your white satin dress, which Bruce gave to you saying you'll be the best looking that day.
Yet his words were nothing but lies. He wasn't ready for your questions if he was honest.
He always resented you, he tried to like you he couldn't. He just can't look at you without being disgusted by the resemblance.
You were so young yet everything and everyone in this life wanted to taint you.
You realised that Bruce hated your voice, it rings like a metal bell that was hit with brute force using a manually made stick for it.
That day before you could knock you heard him... Jason inside the office as well his voice was annoyed and mocking towards Bruce.
"Didn't knew you were shelters for whores and their children"
Your ears pick up their conversation... You were curious you which we never were.
"Do not speak in such ways... She's your sister"
Bruce voice was annoyed as well, you could hear shuffling inside... Like Bruce or Jason just lay some paper on the table.
"Hm... A whore's child is a true discription... Say is it true that she's your biological child? I was expecting something more from you, didn't know whores were your thing ".
The room went silent, as if Bruce was contemplating life.
"...As I thought".
Jason began again as something heavy lands on the table.
"Why do you feel the need to lie... To everyone, even to her? Why is that? I understand hiding it from the media but even from Alfred and Dick... Are you ashamed that you couldn'-"
"Enough... That's enough Jason".
Bruce voice steady now as his voice raised abit.
"... Shutting others up whenever you can't handle it... Real mature, real batsy of you".
Jason chuckled, you couldn't tell at what but you did hear Bruce mutter something under his breath.
"I have heard enough and seen enough, you're no fit to be a father..."
With that said you heard shuffling and before you could escape the door open as a tall and muscular man exit.
His black hair with a streak of white at the front as his eyes looked down at you, a faint smirk plastered on his face. As if he was mocking Bruce by finally meeting you.
Without a word he began to walk away... Bruce doesn't seem to realise you have overheard and the man didn't tell or react much as if he knew you have been there since the beginning.
Snapping back you looked at his eyes the same one that met yours... The one who told you about the truth that Bruce wanted to bury.
You knew that you were his biological child like Damian yet he didn't see or wish to let anyone in on that part.
"Wearing a sweater and all in the middle of summer. If you're trying to kill yourself don't involve the rest"
You were indeed wearing a fuzzy sweater in the middle of summer... Yet you felt cold enough that you have been sitting under the sun.
"Alright"
You didn't argue not anymore, everyone else is so scary whenever you don't obey immediately.
They're stronger that's a fact that they love to flaunt around you, their saying goes and if they say you need to leave you always did.
Even during movies whenever there wasn't enough space and even if you were the one who took the blanket or food and you were the first to settle, you just had to sit on the cold floor without the blanket you took and barely any food.
You felt like a completely strangers that forced their way into the house...
The coldness would intensify, the feeling of the cold ground against your skin, the alienation from your own family, rejection and being deemed as lesser than anyone else.
And now Jason telling you to leave the garden when he wasn't a resident was pulling the strings to your delicate heart.
You always dreamt of standing your ground but when it does happen... The warmth washed out of your blood as coldness indulge itself.
Wrapping it's string around your throat threatening to stop you from breathing if you even tried... So, you always end up at the bottom.
At dinner you sat patiently waiting for the food to he served by Alfred. Atleast dinner is healthy there wasn't a reason to hold back.
Infront of everyone was a set of plate and utensils the table busy with words.
Evryone got food on their plate except yours, your stomach rumbled silently yet not silent enough for Damian to overhear.
"Where's my food?"
You asked confused, Alfred might hate you but he wouldn't be this ruthless...
"I supposed you have forgotten my advice young master"
Alfred sat on his table as he pick up his fork.
Evryone eyes set on you and him yet no one said anything.
"But im hungry, I'll starve if I don't eat... "
You muttered out, if you dare to speak normally he could easily frame that you were being a brat... So keeping it low meant there was less reason for him to hate you.
"You act just an ill mannered pig that act like they've never eaten anything, I supposed you being hungry meant im correct that you are indeed one kind of a pig"
Damian said aloud, he had a small smile on his face from his obvious insult yet it didn't bother you much now.
He was always ruthless and insulted your existence like you did something to him.
At first Dick or Tim would told him to stop but now they were just listening in, not feeling the need to protect you from his words.
"He's right, you eat alot. You don't burn those calories either..."
Tim who was sitting adjacent to you added.
"If your face becomes chubby you'll look like a blubber fish"
Damian decided to add salt to the wound as Barbara end's up laughing so did Stephanie and Dick.
Your head hang low as you were on the verge of tearing up. You were starving, cold and talked down upon every day of your pathetic life .
You've done nothing to these people you called family. Yet they found something so entertaining in seeing you suffer quietly as if you were their personal clown that cannot do anything but accept it's faith.
"That- THAT was rude but... Funny. I cannot even swallow my food now my stomach hurt"
Barbara said as she was smiling wide, her eyes looking at you hanging your head low yet her laughter didn't stop.
Exactly as you thought, they would never stop even when you're dying.
"Enough, eat".
Bruce spoke out finally, he was the real enabler of the family... Always letting you suffer and ignoring it.
The rest of the family began to eat as you sit there without any food on your plate just watching them enjoy whatever they wanted as you starved.
After dinner which you were forced to watch until everyone else finish their food you took a crumb of food off the table while everyone wasn't looking.
It was disgusting but you're starving and even a grain of rice would be nice... God you were real pathetic for picking up a crumb and eating it like a dog.
Everyone left and you eventually went to your room, the one furthest from the rest.
The door creaked opened as you close it behind you. The cold air hitting you once more, you could see the smoke of hot air leaving your mouth as you breath something you'll likely see in winter not summer.
You began to shiver uncontrollable, as you stumble into your bed. There was atleast four blanket to cover you as you curl up like a baby... Yet it was cold as ice.
Your lips went purple as you could hear the faint sound of water rippling calmly. The smell of nature and the suffocating feeling of water drowing you.
You bit on your arm out of hunger, they were right you have always been so hungry ever since you started to walk around the forest.
Anything you eat always end up somewhere else never ingested by your body, it never even reach your stomach you have been starving for two month straight.
Staring at the arm you bit not even a tint of red appears even tho you almost took a chunk of your own skin.
Yeah... It is getting to you.
The day you took of into the forest was your worst mistake.
Because that day Damian told the one person you like something embarassing at school.
Saying you used to watch him all the time and how you gush about him even took pictures of him, which was a total lie.
Not only that he wrote a love letter to him in your name copying your handwriting as well. He wrote how you would make out with a picture of him, how you wanted everyone else in his life to gone and replaced by you and even curse out your best friend... Calling her a whore that was stealing him.
That day the guy you like stood infront of you his eyes widen as he clutch onto a letter not knowing anything.
You greet him happily into he threw the letter at you and cursed you out infront of everyone.
Your explanation and attempt only fell on deaf ear even your bestfriend who promised to always trust you left you that day, not without clapping you and taking a button from your uniform as she was grabbing onto you.
You ended up being a weird stalker. Everything you had left... you spent years building down the drain all because Damian was bored during class.
As you step further into the forest you met a guy, middle age. He smiled so kindly and spoke so gently that you didn't even realise his intentions.
You were so desperate for any kind of love that you didn't realise you ran straight into the devil's arm.
You remembered being dragged by the hair, his much stronger physic and him being a a grown adult meant you didn't have a chance.
His hand grab your hair as he drag you near the river, you struggle bit and even scream yet the forest wouldn't let your voice be heard.
You silently prayed as he drag you, clothes gathering dirt and mud.
You thought.
"God, just give me the strength and I'll do whatever you want... I'll stand up for myself starting today, I'll talk to him and explain about the letter, I'll hug her and explain... I wouldn't be quite anymore... I want to he happy, please"
Tears roll down your cheek as the man continues on.
"I'll stop complaining so much, I'll even stop trying to get everyone to like me. I'll do anything just don't let me die... I don't want to die. I want to live a little longer. To see what my mother's look like, to feel the warmth of love, I refuse to die... But please, just for once let me have something "
That's the last thing you thought before he push you into the water, his hand rest on your chest as you faced him directly.
Without any hesitation he push you down the river as he straddle you, keeping half your body off the water and the other half inside the river.
You could see his smirk as your small frame struggles to get away from his grip. He got pleasured from seeing you drown slowly to be the one in control of someone's life.
He left after three hours, even after the light left you he stayed longer. Your body still in the same position.
The upper part of your body was inside the river as he placed a big rock on your arms to keep you submerged.
The bottom part of your body too was pinned down with rocks on your left leg only. He lost interest on you and left before he tried to pin your right leg.
That day you went back home. You knew your cruel faith yet that didn't stop your persistence for warmth.
It was as if the world wish to see you suffer as much as possible, your wish was granted. You couldn't leave and be at peace until you feel the warmth of your family.
In a sick and twisted turn, your last purpose was to have the love you have been starving for.
Your body was still present in the river, molding, decomposing, eaten by bugs and animals. The disgusting smell hidden by something else, the forest hiding your body.
It was cold and starved, strip of it's last dignity as it lays there forgotten by the world. As your soul lived on, every day you'll feel as if the cold wind is kissing you, starving as you didn't have anyone to love you... It'll get worse day by day.
The longer they refused to let you feel loved the longer your suffering even as a goul. If you can't complete your last wish your soul would turn into a rotten combination of a monster, to be berated and isolated for life.
Warnings: ⚠️This chapter contais torture, violence and mentios of suicide. Please proceed with caution.⚠️
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The room smelled pungent, a mixture of blood and rust filling your lungs. Your hands here chained up, neck barely keeping the position of your head standing. The sounds, which once were far away, were getting closer and closer, the wheels of whatever being brought making a bothersome scratching noise.
“So you have woken up already, child?”- The deep voice entering your ears was from the same man that brought you there. Scarecrow.- “I was expecting at least forty more minutes until the sedative wore off.”
Scratching his chin as if lost in thought, the man suddenly smiled, the wheel's noise getting even closer until it stopped in front of the room. Crane opened the door and brought inside an old TV-cart.
“During many years I've been wondering what fear truly is, y'know?!”- The man circled your body and stopped behind you. He wasn't smiling anymore.- “But, I never achieved what I was looking for. You see, fear is quite subjective, what can make someone scared can be completely different for another person. So what about you? What do you fear, child?”
You refused to speak. His cold hands came down to your neck, you thought he would hurt you, but he didn't. Instead, he bound something to your neck, forcing your head up and despite you trying, the apparatus didn't let you move your head in any direction.
The TV in front of you reflected your poor appearance, dry lips and disheveled hair.
“Not answering?”- He chuckled when you glared at him.- “From now on, pay attention okay?! It might benefit you to know what is coming ahead.”
Giving a small pat on your head, the man turned the tv on. Now, knowing who he was, you thought that everything could happen and yet, this… This hasn't crossed your mind. Your chest starts rising and falling, each time faster than the last, as if the air refused to stay in your lungs. Eyes stinging as the tears filled them.
“Jay…”
In front of you, the video playing was inhumane. The terrified screams and the sound of the metal hitting his body made your stomach turn, every plea and cry filled your eardrums going directly to your heart and squeezing it. The one who always protected you, now had no one for him.
You try closing your eyes, but the sound just continues to torment your mind even without the recording. The man observed you. How your tears made their way down to your chin. How your lips trembled and your nose scrunched red.
“This won't do. Open your eyes, sweets.”
Seeing that you wouldn't obey him, the man signed to someone outside the room, murmuring a ‘bring it’ under his breath. Soon enough, you felt your eyelids being forced open by his fingers and later being invaded by some scissor looking apparatus. With your eyes no longer being able to close, the scene was now being hammered to your mind to the point that you would never forget about it.
Crane only stopped the recording when you parted your eyelids in half attempting to shut your eyes. The blood felt warm in your eyes, adrenaline making sure you didn't pass out.
“Did you see how many times he called him…?”- Whispering in your ear, it was clear who he was referring to. “You should call him to. Shouldn't you, sweets?”
Your lips trembled, holding back tears. Grabbing you by the chin, the man once again told you to call him.
“Hum… You don't seem too cooperative, should we watch everything again?!”- The thought of it making a shiver run down your spine and making you head shake desperately.- “Then do it and we can finish it off for today.”
Your mouth opened with a small sigh, the words felt choked on your gut.
“Papa…”
“Louder, doll.”
“Papa…”
“I said louder.”- His finger came to your cheek, cupping the next tear and bringing it to his mouth.
“PAPA!”
“Good job. Now listen…”- Everything was quiet, nobody to answer.- “He won’t save you, sweets. No one will.”- His words were purely to mock you.- “That is all for today, see you again tomorrow.”
With your head and face throbbing in pain, your body couldn't hold it anymore. Your eyes felt heavy and soon you passed out.
Waking up hyperventilating, you sat at the hospital bed. Eyes darting everywhere until you feel some hands hold you.
“It's okay, I'm here.”- Your body relaxed a bit at the sound of Jason's voice, his concerned eyes looking at you with caution.
Stabilizing your breath, the two of you barely notice the door opening and a nurse coming in with a bowl of water.
“Oh you're awake!”- She placed the bowl in the night stand and looked at the monitor, your heart rate was high.- “Did something happen?”- When Tood answered her with a ’nightmare’, she nodded.- “Well, I came to help the young miss to clean her body. Could you leave us for a while? It will be super fast.”
Jason seemed hesitant to go, but agreed anyway since it would be more comfortable for you this way. After he left the nurse began cleaning your body with a wet cloth, letting your guard down. You didn't see the woman pick a breathing mask, only noticing it when she brought it closer to your face.
“Don’t fight it, it will be worse.”- You looked at her with wide eyes, the green gas already filling your lungs.
It was already too late.
The night at Gotham was grey, the sky seemed dead. Bruce sighed, his head was filled these past few days. Having left Y/N at Jason's care, he decided to investigate through the city in hopes to find both men that hurt his daughter. He was alone today, with each of his children going separate ways to fight the crime through the city, occasionally filling the comms with info.
Though doing his job, his thoughts were filled with only you. Before, Bruce's hopeless feeling was to try to find you, but now it was how to make amends. He never was good at it, his relationship with Jason being an example of it. Being interrupted from his thoughts, Dicks voice filled the comms.
“B, the harbor is under attack, it is Joker!”- Before Bruce could answer another voice entered the convo, this time it wasn't any of his children.
“Good night, Batman.”- The voice came in a murmur, Batman's jaw clenching his teeth at the sound of it.
“Crane.”
“What do you think about Joker's little party?”
“What do you want now?”- All other vigilantes could listen to the dialogue.
“Well, nothing much, I was just wondering how your kid is doing.”- The citation of their sibling made every one of them held the breath.- “She spent quite some time away from home and now that she is back, i can't help but wonder what will you choose, the city or her?”
They could hear the smile on his mouth as the words got out of his mouth in an amused tone.
“The clock is running, Bat. ‘Tik Tok’.”- His chuckle vibrated through the comms.- “Good luck.”
Crane's voice barely left the device and Bruce was already moving. His steps were hurried as he told Nightwing and the others to deal with Joker. Twenty minutes, that was the time he had until reaching the hospital. He was starting to grow relentless as Todd didn't answer the phone, the man could only hope both his children were okay.
In the hospital, all the corridors were filled with green gas. The rooms were locked, as that was the only solution Jason found so the patients wouldn't attack each other or him. He could have evacuated the building but his priority was to return to his sister, and his urgency grew even more as voice filled through the hospital sound system.
His heart was beating fast, rushing through the corridor looking for you with all his might, he's not willing to lose you again.
“You know what you have to fear, child.”- Crane's voice haunted Todd's mind, but it was not to him that the man was talking to.- “Nobody will save you.”
God, how he wanted to hug you and say that this was not true, as long as he is alive he will come to save you. Where are you Y/N?.
Reaching to one more upper floor was when Jason found you, limping while walking your way through the emergency stairs which led to the hospital's helipad.
“Y/N!”- He called your name, but it wasn't enough to reach you because of the mask he was using.
The wind outside whipped your face with force, your arms unconsciously held together at cold temperature. Eyes dazed and unfocused, you had no control of your body. It didn't take much time for Jason to follow, your head turned at the sound of the door opening. You frown at the man, each time he stepped close you stepped back.
This man… I don't know this man…
“Y/N, please come here.”- He asked, afraid you might get too close to the edge.
“Who… are… you?”- Your voice came out raspy, vocal cords dry from not talking for far too long.
“What?”- The stranger's eyes held pain, though you didn't understand why.- “It's me, Jason. Your brother.”
“No… My Jay… dead.”
You didn't want to, but couldn't help but shed a few tears at the thought of your late brother. Jason was about to answer you, sadness taking place in his chest, but was interrupted by Bruce landing on the rooftop. His appearance makes your body jump.
“Y/N”- The man in black called you, but you couldn't look at him.
‘You know what you have to fear’
“Why…? Killed… Jay…”-The question hung heavy between the two men. Bruce's chest aches, what did they do to his daughter? - “Dont… hurt… Dont… want… die.”
Bruce's breath faltered. He? Hurt his daughter? He would never. But he did. As if his heart wasn't shattered enough, his daughter continues.
“Papa… please… no fight… im… stop… looking… Jay… so no mo-...re mean… Papa.”
He couldn't do it anymore. Taking off his cowl, he approached you in fast steps. but had to stop again as soon as he saw you getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Darling please. Is me, you see? Papa is here for you.”- He extended his hands towards you.
Nobody will come to save you.
Alone.
He will not come.
You know what you have to fear.
Nobody will save you.
Your ears kept ringing, a whistle sound making its way from your eardrum down to your spine. It was slow, but neither Bruce nor Jason caught the way your feet moved back again, both of them too preoccupied with the pained expression in your face. You felt dizzy, the gas making your brain foggy.
I want to go home… I’m scared…
Then his voice filled in again, a cruel laugh escaping his mouth.
“What do you think of that, Bat?”- Crane didn't wait for any reaction from Bruce, instead he turned his focus to you.- “Want to see something funny, Bat?! I told you I made her an obedient doll. Sweets…”- Your mind was blank, limbs moving on its own. - "You're quite far away from the ground aren't you?”- Bruce felt a shiver run down his body, he runned to reach you, face falling in despair.- “Jump.”
Your body fell back with lightness, the last thing you saw was the man with wide and tear filled eyes, his hand trying desperately to reach for your body.
CW: A lil touchy at the start with a stranger, hints to a troubled past (please let me know if there’s anything else I should include if there is any)
You’ve never fit the Bat mold, too drawn to the glow of Gotham to live in its shadows. But one reckless choice drags you back into their world, where every glance dares you to prove you’re more than the socialite they’ve believe you are
A/N: Helloooo, there’s a longer note at the end that explains a bit more of what’s going on. This was the fic I was talking about out here when procrastinating the pt 2 of the Roy fic :P. I stayed up all night to finish this instead of studying 💗. That being said, I’m gonna be MIA for the next few weeks to get through my midterms. I get a week off at the end of October so I’ll make sure to spend a day just writing :)
This is 1 of 2 versions of Wayne!Reader. This one is version where she wants nothing to do with the hero life but the mask follows her. Anywhooo, enjoy!
———————————————————————
You’d always been more of a Wayne than a Bat.
Your brothers never let you forget it. They wore the masks, the mission, the unspoken burden of being Batman’s soldiers like a second skin. Meanwhile, you wore pearls, practiced smiles, and a laugh that sounded better at galas than on rooftops.
You and your family lived in completely different worlds, with each side using the other as a means to an end. Both crafted to reflect your father’s confusing makeup of an identity. Only yours felt like the one your father looked past.
It didn’t help that the only time you ever felt close to your father was when he was playing someone else. When he was Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s playboy billionaire, the man who could shake hands, flash cameras a grin, and pretend to belong to the world he’d built a fortress against.
That version of him was the only one you knew how to talk to. You never found a way to reach the man behind the mask, and he never seemed interested in showing you.
That hollow truth sat heavy in your chest, and every time the cape came first, it reminded you that even your best smiles couldn’t make you feel like you belonged in the their family. Make you belong with The Bats.
Your family saw you as spoiled, too much of a socialite to be taken seriously. They weren’t entirely wrong.
You lived for the banquets, spending your dad’s money, the dizzy blur of Gotham nightlife— it was easy to vanish in that world, easier than trying to keep pace with heroes who measured worth in bruises and broken bones.
Though there was your occasional reminiscing on how you used to be close, how you used to put on your own tiny mask and trail after them like they were the only source of light through Gotham’s smog.
But that was before. Before Jason died, and before they sent you away.
You told yourself you didn’t want that life anyway. You told yourself you only wanted Gotham on your terms, not the team missions, not the world-saving. Just your city, your rules.
So here you were, proving the point.
The club was pulsing around you, sweat and neon dripping down the walls, bass rattling through your ribs like a second heartbeat. You weren’t the Bats daughter tonight, not the polished darling Wayne who smiled too bright for cameras.
You were just another body on the floor, letting an older stranger’s hand rest heavy on your waist, his grin promising exactly the kind of trouble you craved.
You felt extra bold tonight with your dad out of Gotham, both he and Alfred gone for the weekend doing something that they didn’t bother to tell you about.
Whatever, like you’d care either way. This just meant you could party in the city and not worry about fucking Batman dropping down at the club entrance to drag your ass home.
Sneaking out was second nature to you at this point out. They may play you as a stuck-up, stupid socialite, but you had to have skill to actually get away with all you did.
A simple footage loop of the surveillance tapes from last week, and bam! It'll seem like you were in your bedroom the whoooole night.
Youve used this trick at least five hundred times. It got to the point where you genuinely wondered if your family knew and just didn’t give a shit.
But no, you soon realized they simply didnt bothered because they never expected anything from you.
They never considered you capable of anything but acting like Regina George. Even Alfred who you spent the most time with, hadn’t even put the effort to at least dust the security cameras in the hall down to your room.
So when you threw your fit about some girl drama, they believed you and your dramatics without batting an eye. More than happy to have you be sulking while online shopping alone in your room, and nothing more.
HA. As if you’d throw away being completely unsupervised on a Friday night.
You’re brought back to the momet when the guy presses closer. His cologne burned your nose, but you didn’t pull away. You laughed, as he turns you around and goes to kiss at your neck.
Sighing into the touch, you let him grip your hand to tip your drink into your mouth, letting the burn of liquor convince you this was exactly what you wanted.
You loved that burn. The buzz it left you with when you lost yourself like this.
You hum swaying your hips to the song letting whatever this guys name is paw at you. He was cute. Hot even. But you’d never let it blossom into anything meaningful.
He was yours for the night you’ve decided, but you’d sneak off after you got your fix. (you were your fathers daughter afterall).
Your free hand slide to his hair to grip and pull his face back. There was the slight graze of stubble against your jaw when as leans closer.
The stranger grins, his eyes were half-lidded trailing over you, one of his hands slip from your hip over your behind to tug at the hem of your dress. You let him, despite the small pit that forms in your gut at the action.
His lips hovered a breath from yours, a reckless, dangerous dare you leaned into—
“Unbelievable.”
The word cut sharper than the music, slicing straight through the haze. You froze, not because you didn’t recognize the voice, but because you always would.
A hand seized your wrist before the kiss could land. The stranger swore as he’s shoved, stumbling back, but one glare from Dick Grayson sent him vanishing into the crowd like smoke.
Fucking coward, you seethe to yourself as you’re essentially left to the wolves. You slowly lift your head. The strobe lights painted his anger in harsh whites and shadows, and you hated that it made him look more like a Bat than a brother.
“Are you insane?” he snapped, dragging you off the floor as if the walls might cave in if he let go. The music thundered on, but the grip of his hand was louder.
“You shouldn’t even be here!” Dick’s voice cracked like a whip, low enough not to draw attention but sharp enough to make you flinch. “Do you even realize how old—”
“Let me go,” you hissed, tugging against him. Heads were starting to turn, and the last thing you needed was a scene
But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.
Not when you twisted, not when you dug your nails into his wrist, not even when you hissed his name through clenched teeth.
He hauled you off the dance floor like a crook in cuffs, weaving through the crowd until you realized he wasn’t heading for the door.
Instead, he beelined deeper into the club, much to your confusion, before eventually stopping at a booth tucked in the corner, and your stomach plummeted.
….
Oh, great. What was this? A reunion tour?
Artemis leaned back in her seat, arms folded, sharp eyes flicking between you and your brother, her brows furrowed. Roy lounged with his usual smirk, though it faltered when his gaze really settled on you. And then there was Conner, who sat stiff as stone, arms crossed, and jaw tight, but his eyes softened.
You froze, caught like a spotlight had slammed onto you. These weren’t just heroes. These were people who’d once adored you almost as much as you adored them. For years, you’d wanted nothing more than to be one of them.
But that was before.
Before Bruce had sent you away. Boarding school, miles away with entitled classmates who measured worth in money and power instead of scars; and teachers who completely crushed any faith you had in adults protecting you.
By the time you came back, you weren’t the same and neither was their image of you.
You’d traded training for galas, patrols for paparazzi, and every glimpse they caught of you was in a tabloid headline or splashed across some social media page. Gotham’s glittering Wayne, the spoiled socialite with the city wrapped around her pinkie finger.
You knew they thought you were rebelling, but not like this.
Dick shoved you into the booth before you could find your footing, the drink in your hand spilling a bit, which you fumblingly placed on the table.
Geez, what a dick.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he snapped, fury barely leashed. “You’re underage, drinking, and— God! Him!? Do you have any idea how bad that could’ve gone?”
Dick’s hand was still clamped around your wrist, anchoring you to the booth like you might bolt if he let go. His voice came low, sharp enough to slice through the music.
You jerked your wrist, rolling your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Ugh, calm down. You being over dramatic!” you snapped, sinking into the booth like you owned it. “I was just having fun, Dick. It’s not the end of the world!”
You reached for your glass with your free hand, ready to dig your grave deeper with another sip only for it to be snatched from your hand.
You blinked, and Roy was already holding it out of reach, his jaw tight in a way you weren’t used to seeing.
“Seriously?” you snapped, glaring at him.
He shook his head. “You don’t need this. You’re already in enough trouble.” His voice wasn’t angry, not like Dick’s, but the quiet disappointment behind it somehow landed harder. You just scoff, looking back at Dick with a glare.
Artemis exhaled, sharp and low, the sound cutting through the thrum of bass. “This isn’t having fun, it’s being reckless. You know better.”
You didn’t look at her. You kept your eyes on Dick, lips curling in a smirk you didn’t really feel. Ignoring Artemis was easier than hearing her tone, easier than letting it sting the way it always did.
Having not had a mother of your own, you tended to latch onto Dick’s female friends. Artemis was no exception. You used to adore her, even despite her finding you a bit annoying at first, but you grew on her.
How could you not? With the way you clung to her; wide-eyed and adoring, waiting for the smallest scrap of approval. But that was then, when you were younger, sweeter, different.
Artemis didn’t comment on how you blatantly ignored her. Instead, she just snagged Dick’s jacket from the booth and snapped it around your shoulders, tugging the collar up. “Cover up,” she said, clipped and firm.
You scoffed instantly, shoving the jacket off your shoulders and onto the seat beside you. “Why would I? It’s hot in here.” Your voice dripped with indifference, though heat still burned in your cheeks.
Your dress was short, showed a lot more than it should. You knew that. You picked it out for that reason. But now in front of them, you felt more uncomfortable than you did all night.
Dick’s jaw locked as your scoff rang in the heavy air. The jacket you’d shoved aside slid half off the booth, its dark fabric pooling like a shadow you refused to claim.
For a second, he just stared at you— at the defiance in your chin tilt, the burn still clinging to your cheeks, the expression that screamed untouchable.
Then, without warning, his hand shot out, fingers fisting the jacket with the same precision he’d use on a grapple line.
In one rough motion, he hauled it up and over your shoulders again, not giving you the chance to shrug it off this time. His grip was unyielding, pinning the collar in place as though he could anchor you to the fabric by sheer force of will.
“Dick—” you snapped, trying to twist away, but he was already zipping it up, the sound loud and final. The zipper caught at your throat with a sharp click, sealing the jacket up to your chin.
You were trapped in the heavy folds of his jacket, the scent of him and leather pressing close. You felt your heart squeeze for a moment as you realized you didn’t recognize his smell anymore.
He leaned in, bracing one hand flat on the table beside you, the other still gripping the jacket at your collar. His eyes burned under the strobing lights, catching every flicker of your stubborn defiance and daring you to meet it.
“You think this is a game?” His voice was low, sharp enough to cut through the thrum of bass, steady enough to drown it out. “Sneaking drinks, letting strangers try to kiss you, laughing like it’s nothing— what the hell is wrong with you?”
The words weren’t shouted, but they landed harsher than any scream could have. For a moment, the rest of the booth didn’t exist; all of it faded under the weight of Dick’s fury.
“You’re not walking out of here half-dressed and drunk,” he continued, voice dropping lower still, almost a growl. “Not while I’m around. You want to make bad choices, fine. But you don’t get to make yourself a target and call it freedom.”
The collar of the jacket pressed tight against your chin, his hand still holding it like a lock, and you hated that for a flicker of a second, you felt safer for it.
That moment of safety didn’t last because the expression he gave you reminded you of someone you knew Dick tried so hard to be different from. Someone you knew who he’d tell everything about tonight to.
Bruce.
Your stomach knotted so hard it almost hurt.
You could handle Dick’s disapproval. You could even handle the team staring at you like you were some reckless kid instead of the sweet, wide-eyed Wayne they’d once adored.
But your dad? You’d built an image for him, a careful facade of being the polished socialite who at least pretended to act with some restraint.
He was fine with you at those posh parties, fine with the charities, the galas; his indifference was something you’d learned to survive. But this? You were spoiled, sure, but not drunk in a club, letting some guy paw at you. He’d lose his mind over this.
Especially since he still believed you were the “soft” one. The one with limited skills, hesitant to get their hands dirty, the one who wouldn’t dare do anything that could break a nail. The one who couldn’t protect herself against something as simple as petty theft, where a pool noodle was the weapon.
What would he even do once he found out?
Would he finally turn a quarter of his attention back onto you?
Would he cut the tree you use to get in and out of your window, the one thing you have that lets you slip past the manor’s walls?
Or would he see this as one more mess he doesn’t have time to deal with and send you away again?
Your stomach lurched. You couldn’t go back there.
Not back there.
Not to that place— that school, that exile disguised as a safe haven.
No.
The thought alone made your throat close. For one dizzy second, the club spun with it. Neon and sweat and bass dissolving into the image of your father’s voice in your head.
You had to think fast. What could you do to outsmart Nightwing? You mind races for a moment before you decide to do what you do best.
Fake it until you make it.
Taking a quick breath you swallowed it down, hard, forcing your mouth into a smirk you didn’t feel.
Your voice cut through the heavy silence, sharp and brittle all at once. “I can handle myself,” you spat, your nails digging crescent moons into your palms before a hand moved to shove his hands off of you. He let his hands fall away but it didn’t slip past you how his hands clenched into fists.
“I had everything under control until you came.” You tried to make the words sound solid, unshakable, but they rang thin in your own ears.
Dick’s laugh was humourless, jagged as broken glass. He leaned close enough that you could see the tension in his jaw, the irritation etched into the corners of his eyes.
“Control?” he echoed, voice low, dangerous in its restraint. “You call letting some creep twice your age put his hands on you control?”
Your chest tightened, and God, you hated that his words made you flinch. You rolled your eyes to cover it, pressing your back harder into the booth. “He wasn’t dangerous. He just wanted—”
“Exactly,” Dick cut in, the word like a blade. His hand slammed down on the table, making the half-empty glasses rattle. “He just wanted. And you have no idea how quickly that could’ve turned into something you couldn’t laugh your way out of.”
For a second, no one breathed. Then Roy cleared his throat, muttering, “He’s not wrong.” His tone lacked its usual edge, more uneasy than mocking.
Conner’s arms remained folded, but his brow furrowed, the tight set of his jaw softening. “You don’t always see danger until it’s already too late,” he said quietly, not a lecture, not an accusation, just a fact.
You scoffed, the sound sharp enough to cut through the weight in the air. “Please,” you snapped, tossing your hair back with a defiance you didn’t quite feel. “I could’ve gotten away any second I wanted. I can even get away from this.”
Shit, you actually said that— why don’t you go find an actual shovel to dig your grave deeper?
The words hit hard as their reactions settle around you: Dick’s jaw tightening, Roy leaning back with that sharp smirk barely hiding annoyance, Artemis’s eyes narrowing into calculated lines.
For a second, you let the panic flutter, the rush of being cornered—
Get away from heroes, yeah right!
You’re screwed. Completely fucked. You could start crying thinking about seeing the headmaster again—
Suddenly you pause, letting the world sink in. Why the hell are you underselling yourself?
Sure, you haven’t been swinging across rooftops or cracking criminals’ heads in years, but you’ve had your own missions.
Not flashy, not public, not exactly heroic in the traditional sense but ones that showed you were precise and at your core, effective.
Slipping past surveillance cameras without leaving a trace. Dodging paparazzi that track your every move. Even crafting a mask so perfect that even your father, the master of reading nanoexpressions, couldn’t tell the smallest twitch away from the real you.
These were missions of skill and calculation. Skills that had you staying one step ahead while the world thought you were nothing but a socialite.
Above all, you’ve mastered the art to get away. Not with brute force. Not with muscle. But with patience, stealth, and sheer nerve.
And despite them being seasoned heroes who have faced mind manipulation, endured the sharpest verbal assaults from the most irritating villains
you had one advantage; their overconfidence when it came to you. They thought they knew you. Thought the years away, the tabloids, the gossip, and the glittering public persona had stripped away whatever edge you once had.
They thought the little girl who used to have potential was gone, replaced by a reckless, spoiled socialite who couldn’t survive a night without their intervention.
And they loved believing that. Loved it the way heroes love being right, loved it like it gave them certainty in a chaotic world. They relished the idea that your wide-eyed, reckless reputation was all you had become.
For once, knowing they thought that if you made you gleam. Their certainty became your weapon. Their dismissal became your leverage.
You could work with that. You just had to push them, bait them, let their egos convince them they were in control.
The thought coils in your chest like fire, reckless and alive, making your grin sharper, more deliberate.
This wasn’t just defiance anymore. This was strategy. Dangerous, delicious strategy.
You wore a cocky grin as your glare swept across the table, daring anyone to challenge you.
Roy’s smirk reappeared, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned back, shaking his head. “If you really believe that,” he said, voice dry but tinged with unease, “then you’re dumber than the tabloids make you out to be.”
“Roy,” Artemis warned, her tone sharp as her gaze flicked toward him. But she didn’t look at you with softness either. Her eyes stayed locked on yours, unflinching, like she could see straight through the brittle walls you kept throwing up.
You rolled your eyes, flicking your hair back with a deliberate snap, letting the defiance taste sharper than it felt. “I’m not some stupid socialite,” you spat, voice clipped, snapping at the silence around the table. “I know I can get away.”
The words hung there like a challenge, and you saw it immediately. Shared looks darting between them, quick and subtle, the way people who’ve faced real danger recognize a taunt the second they hear it.
Cmon.
Roy’s smirk faltered, just slightly, though the corner of his mouth tugged in that familiar, warning way. Dick’s jaw tightened, the set of it rigid, restrained, like he was calculating how far he’d let you push before it snapped.
Conner’s arms folded a fraction more rigidly, shoulders squared, eyes narrowing at the challenge your words had planted. Even Artemis’s gaze sharpened, cold and precise, tracking every small movement, every flicker of expression, scanning you like a hawk weighing prey.
For a heartbeat, the world shrank to the table, to the unspoken challenge vibrating in the space between your words and their reactions. You let it linger, tasting the silence like it belonged to you.
They’d expect arrogance. They’d expect recklessness. Let them. Because deep down, you weren’t reckless. Not really. You were raised by the fucking Batman. You were smart.
Roy cleared his throat, slow, deliberate, leaning forward just enough that his eyes caught yours across the table. “You’re… really sure about that?”
His tone was casual, almost teasing but the slight edge underneath made it clear he wasn’t joking. “Because, we catch a lot bigger and scarier on daily basis.”
You knew he’d bite first.
“You mean people who don’t know better,” you snap back, each word clipped and uniterested, your tone carrying the same effortless bite you used on Gotham’s elite when you wanted them to squirm. “They’re easy. Predictable. They fall for the same tricks, every single time.”
Your eyes lingered on him, narrowing in mock pity before you let the smirk return, sharper now. “Catching me would take actual skill.”
The words hung in the air like Gotham smog, heavy and poisonous, curling around the table until even the music thumping outside the booth seemed distant.
You leaned back in your seat with studied nonchalance, one leg crossing over the other, your too tall heels tapping the leg of the table.
It’s as if you’d already dismissed the whole conversation as beneath you. The defiance in your posture was unmistakable, radiating arrogance like a second skin.
Roy’s jaw ticked, his smirk faltering for the barest fraction of a second before he covered it with a sharp exhale and a swirl of his glass. His mutter was low, almost to himself, but the edge in his voice carried easily across the table.
“You’re crazy,” Roy muttered, almost to himself, though his voice carried.
He tipped his glass, watching the liquid swirl as if it could distract him from the itch to say something he shouldn’t to his friend's little sister. “Little Miss Gotham thinks she can just get away. I almost wanna see her try.”
“Roy,” Dick warned again, sharper now, but even he didn’t sound entirely convinced. His voice had that clipped edge it got when he was losing his grip on the reins.
Artemis arched a brow, mouth twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “She’s taunting us”
Conner shifted, heavy arms unfolding as he leaned in. His voice was steady, but quieter, almost like a verdict. “You’re in over your head, kid.”
You only grinned, sharp and unshaken, revelling in the weight of all their eyes pressing down on you. “Maybe I am,” you said, lifting your chin like you owned the table, the booth, the whole damn club. “But you all look like you’re too scared to find out.”
That broke them, just like you knew it would. Nothing sets someone off like an arrogant little sibling afterall. It didn’t help that they were all more than a bit tipsy, save for Mr. Easily Aggravated.
Dick’s jaw flexed as you smirked at him. The silence at the booth had become suffocating, thick with judgment, tension, and something sharper beneath the surface, something personal.
Everyone else had said their piece to your challange, but he hadn’t let up, hadn’t even blinked. He was watching you too closely, and you hated how exposed it made you feel.
Then he leans forward with an ease that grates on your nerves. His voice came low, dangerous, with that clipped edge he only ever used when he’d run out of patience.
“What's your game here, huh?” he demanded. “I know it's not just to piss us off.”
Your smirk faltered, but you masked it quickly, chin tilting higher, posture sharpened into defiance. You tried to play it off, but his stare pinned you, heavy and relentless.
For a beat, you almost said nothing but you shift to raise your chin to look down at him— you so close. You can do this.
“You’re right,” you said, low, measured, like admitting it on your terms would keep you in control. “It’s not just about pissing you off. It’s a bet.”
That got everyone’s attention. Chairs shifted. Brows furrowed. “A bet?” Roy scoffed. “With who?”
“With all of you.” Your words were steady, though your heartbeat was climbing fast. You let your gaze sweep across the table, meeting each of theirs like you were calling them out one by one.
“If I can get away— if I can slip out from under your watch, even with all your training, you don’t say a single word to my Dad about tonight.”
The table went still. Even the thrum of the club seemed to fade, the bass swallowed by the gravity of what you’d just put on the table.
“And if you lose?” Artemis asked, voice sharp, cutting straight through the tension. Her eyes were locked on you like an arrow aimed at a target.
Your jaw tightened. You wanted to smirk, wanted to shrug it off, but the stakes demanded more than bravado.
So you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table, your eyes never wavering. “If I lose, I’ll tell him myself. Every detail. Underage drinking. The creep. This club. All of it. Straight from me.”
That broke the silence.
Roy let out a low whistle, leaning back against the booth with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Damn, I think all those parties scrambled her brain.”
Conner’s brow furrowed deeper, his eyes looked over your expression as if trying to read your mind and pick it apart.
Artemis’s lips pressed into a line, her gaze sharp as ever. She wasn’t impressed, but she wasn’t dismissing you either. Her silence said enough; she was weighing you, measuring the steel in your words against the reckless heat in your eyes.
Dick leaned closer, his voice low and sharp enough to sting. “You'd better think real hard before you commit to this, because once it starts, there’s no halfway. No excuses. You either win, or you face Bruce yourself.”
Your smirk sharpened into something steadier this time, no longer the flimsy mask you’d been wearing all night but a deliberate curve of your lips, a smile that settled like a blade being drawn.
The weight of Dick’s words didn’t scare you— it lit something in your chest, dangerous and alive.
You leaned forward, letting the dim light catch in your eyes, “I’m all in.”
The smile lingered, sharp and unyielding, and the air around the booth seemed to crack under it. You weren’t bluffing anymore. You weren’t performing. You had committed, and they could all see it.
Roy straightened, eyebrows rising, a disbelieving laugh escaping him before he tipped his glass again. “Well, shit. Guess the princess wants to play for real.”
Artemis’s eyes narrowed, calculating, her mouth curving just enough to show the challenge wasn’t lost on her.
Dick didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. He just let the silence hang for a long, punishing second, before leaning back with a sharp exhale, like he’d resigned himself to the storm you’d invited.
“You’re gonna regret this,” he muttered.
Your grin only widened as you leaned back into the booth, satisfaction radiating off you like heat. The tension that had hung over the table cracked, shifted— no longer suffocating, but coiling into something electric. A challenge. A game.
You lifted a hand, gesturing lazily toward the door like the outcome was already sealed. “As long as I can get away and make it back to the manor before I’m caught, I win. Deal?”
That made them pause. The manor. Not a block away, not ducking into some alley around the corner. You were talking about crossing the entire goddamn city with the team’s finest breathing down your neck.
Roy let out a bark of laughter, smacking the table once. “Oh, that’s rich. You’re insane, kid. You really think you’re making it across the city?”
Artemis arched a brow, unimpressed but faintly amused, like a cat watching a mouse step into a trap. “You won’t even make it out of the booth.”
Conner frowned, his arms unfolding as he leaned forward. “This isn’t running away from a drunk in a club. This is running from us.” His tone was flat, final, like he thought he could give you some common sense.
But it only made your smile grow sharper. “Exactly,” you said, leaning back with an air of smug confidence that made your point sting sharper than any retort. “If I can slip past all of you and make it back home… then you’ll have no excuse left not to admit I’m capable. And if not— well, my dad finds out, doesn’t he?”
Dick rubbed a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that sounded like a prayer for patience. “You’ve officially lost your damn mind. " He murmurs
When his hand dropped, his eyes were blazing. "But fine. You already screwed up our night, we should at least get some entertainment from this."
You ignore his comment about you screwing up, focusing more on the fact that you got exactly what you wanted.
It was game on.
And the cruellest part? They were relaxed now. Easing back into their seats, trading skeptical glances, even smirks. They thought you’d never make it.
They were so confident, so certain that you’d fumble before you even left the booth. After all, why wouldn’t they be? They had training, experience, and powers. They had a half-Kryptonian, archers, and Gotham’s golden boy wonder.
And you were a socialite princess— the one they’d seen in last week’s tabloids, with your security guard carrying you up the stairs because you simply couldn’t be bothered.
They thought you were doomed from the start.
You hold back your grin as you lean back, more than content with yourself than ever, because underestimating you was the very first mistake they’d made tonight.
————————————————————————
A/N: The other version (If I ever get around to it) is the reverse where she wants nothing more than to just be a hero and forget who she is under the mask :P.
Both runs involve Bart as the love interest but I’m thinking to do one-shots on the side for some scenes with other characters if you guys wanna request it later on :).
Some of the characters will come off as OOC, but they are described how ★Wayne!Reader perceives them! Also so sorry for how my A/N’s take up so much space but I wanna talk to yall about what’s going on in my brain when it comes to my fics </3
If you’d like to be tagged please leave a comment on the series masterlist! It’ll be easier for me to not miss anyone that way :)) LMG Series masterlist, you can find it in my pinned post>>> masterlist>>> nyni’s series :D
(Also I have no idea how to tag this story, so please excuse the mess below)
F1 Grid x Platonic!Driver!Reader
Genre: Humor, Found Family, Slice of Life, Emotional Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Mentions of neglectful parents, casual sexism, implied family favoritism, but mostly soft chaos and protective drivers
Word Count: 1146
A/N: You guys wanted this as soon as posible.
The Grid Has Questions.
It started with Lewis Hamilton, of course.
He leaned against the hospitality unit after FP2 in Barcelona, sipping his coconut water with the effortless grace of someone who’d been in F1 longer than Y/N had been legally allowed to drive. He watched Y/N jog past—helmet in hand, hair sticking to her forehead, grinning like she’d just set pole instead of a P6.
And that’s when he realized.
“...Wait,” Lewis murmured, narrowing his eyes. “I’ve never met their parents.”
George, beside him, perked up. “You’re right. I’ve seen Max’s dad, Lando’s mum, Carlos’ entire family tree at some point—but Y/N? Nothing. Not even a cousin.”
Oscar overheard, because Oscar always overheard things when Y/N was involved. “Oh, yeah. I asked once. They just kind of shrugged it off.”
Lewis hummed thoughtfully, which was basically code for: I’m going to interrogate the child.
Hospitality Unit, Later That Night
The rookies were busy play-fighting over who got the last pack of Oreos, while Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone.
“Hey, kid,” Lewis said casually, sliding into the seat next to her.
Y/N blinked up. “I’m literally 22.”
“You’ll still be a kid when you’re 30. Anyway.” He sighed as he leaned closer. “Where are your parents?”
The room went silent. Like—too silent. Even Ollie stopped mid-bite of his stolen Oreo.
Y/N blinked. “What do you mean?”
Lewis gave her the patented Big Brother Squint™. “I mean… I’ve never seen them. Ever. Not in karting clips, not in junior formulas, not even on the broadcasts. What’s the deal?”
Y/N hesitated, eyes flicking to the others. Oscar, Ollie, Kimi, and Isack had all leaned in like nosy meerkats. Max, from across the room, pretended to be on his phone but was absolutely listening.
“...They don’t come,” Y/N said finally, tone flat.
“Don’t come? Like, what—too busy?” Lando asked, frowning.
Y/N snorted humorlessly. “Try not interested.”
That earned a collective silence. Even Max set his phone down.
Y/N’s Story (aka the accidental therapy session)
“Look,” Y/N started, twirling her phone nervously, “I’ve got four siblings. All boys. Two older, two younger. Sports-mad family. My brothers play football and rugby, and my parents never miss a match. They’ve got the scarves, the chants, the whole deal.”
She laughed a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I started karting when I was a kid. Paid for it by working extra shifts at a café, getting sponsors wherever I could. My parents didn’t think it was worth it. ‘You’re a girl, why bother with cars?’ That kind of thing.”
Daniel—who had wandered in with a Red Bull and overheard the worst part—looked personally offended. “Excuse me?! You’re literally in Formula One. You’re pulling overtakes on world champions.”
“Yeah,” Y/N said, shrugging. “Doesn’t matter. They still don’t come. Never did. I just… kind of blend in, you know? Middle kid. Easy to forget.”
The drivers exchanged a look. A dangerous one. The kind of look that usually meant trouble for the FIA—or in this case, maybe Y/N’s parents.
The Protectiveness Kicks In
“You’re joking,” Lando muttered, raking a hand through his hair.
“Nope.”
“They didn’t even come to your first win?” Oscar asked softly.
Y/N shook her head. “I called them after. They said congrats, then asked if I’d seen my brother’s rugby try. He got featured in the local paper.”
The room exploded.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” — Daniel
“That’s actual insanity.” — Carlos
“They should be bragging about you every day.” — George
“Y/N, you literally overtook me into Turn 1 in Bahrain. That was art. If I were your parent, I’d have that replay framed.” — Charles
Max, who had been quiet, finally said: “That’s their loss. You don’t need them. You’ve got us.”
And just like that, Y/N’s throat tightened. Because damn it, she wasn’t going to cry in front of them.
Chaos Ensues (Because Feelings Make the Grid Uncomfortable)
Of course, because this was the grid, the heartfelt moment didn’t last long.
“Right,” Daniel clapped his hands together. “New rule. Y/N officially has 19 parental figures. Actually, scratch that. 19 chaotic older siblings. We’re adopting you.”
“I’m not sure if that’s better or worse,” Y/N muttered.
“Better,” Carlos said firmly. “Much better. My father would agree.”
“I call dibs on being the cool uncle,” Lando announced immediately.
“You’re literally two years older than me.”
“Uncle. Dibs.”
Fernando strolled in at that exact moment, heard none of the context, and just said: “I’ll be the grandfather.” Then he walked out with an espresso.
“See?” Daniel grinned. “Family sorted.”
Over the Next Few Weeks…
The grid collectively decided that Y/N’s lack of parental support was a personal offense.
Lewis started inviting her to dinners, casually dropping wisdom like it was spare change.
Sebastian Vettel (back in the paddock for a consultancy role) began sending her little notes of encouragement. “Proud of you. Keep going.”
Max started threatening to “have a word” with her parents, which everyone knew would probably involve terrifying silence and one raised eyebrow.
Oscar became her automatic partner in track walks. “If your parents won’t watch you race, I will. Every lap, every turn.”
Lando obnoxiously cheered her name into the radio during cooldown laps: “LET’S GOOOO, Y/N, THE OVERTAKE QUEEN!”
Daniel tried (and failed) to FaceTime her parents after a podium, demanding they “show some respect.”
Y/N pretended to be annoyed. But secretly? She’d never felt more seen.
Monaco Grand Prix Weekend
Quali was a nightmare—traffic, red flags, the usual Monaco chaos. Y/N barely scraped into Q3.
Back in the garage, she slumped against the wall, helmet still on. Normally she’d text her family, maybe get a half-hearted “good luck.” Instead, her phone buzzed with messages from—
Lando: P10? That’s nothing. Watch you make magic tomorrow.
Charles: Don’t worry, the streets love an underdog. Trust me 😉
Max: Stop overthinking. Just drive.
She grinned despite herself.
Race Day
Lap 48. Y/N made a daring double overtake into the chicane—clean, precise, the kind of move that had commentators screaming and fans climbing over barriers. She finished P4, just behind the podium.
She pulled into parc fermé, ripped off her helmet, and was immediately engulfed by Lando and Oscar. Then Daniel, then Charles, then Lewis.
It wasn’t her family waiting at the barriers. But maybe… this was better.
Post-Race Interview
A reporter asked, “Y/N, your family must be so proud watching from home. Any message for them?”
Y/N paused, smile flickering. Then she looked over at the drivers crowded nearby—cheering, clapping, holding up homemade “OVERTAKE QUEEN” signs they’d scribbled during quali.
“Yeah,” she said finally, eyes soft. “I just want to say… thanks to the people who do show up. The ones who see me. You know who you are.”
Her voice cracked just a little. And when she walked away, Lewis slung an arm around her shoulders, murmuring: “That’s family, kid.”
TW: brief explanation of a wound, mention of droppplets of blood... Ehhh foreshadowing???? I don't know how to tag
READ THE TAGS (I TAG AS IF I WERE IN AO3)
FNAF REFERENCES?!
Synopsis:
"relationship" with them (which is none existent) ....and daily life (mostly daily life)
(this episode has foreshadowing)
(also please read the over explanation I will upload of these episode or ask about it pls I love answering stuff pls)
a Neglectful Batfamily x Maki Zenin!Reader
Siblings are important, they are the very first interaction with individuals that are not your parents, Siblings... specially the older ones are to teach, to protect their younger siblings, they are to nurture to educate, to learn from mistakes, to comunicate.
Well that is if your family is good.
You dont have the same choice.
You never had.
Your path was carved and set before you could even think.
A pact of the Heveans againts your wills.
A Restriction.
A Heveanly Restriction.
There is no name to a sister losing another.
You are now 16 years old, you understand it know, you wont have a place in this manor... Nor in that state of you don't win it, if you don't show it,
How complicated could it be?
"Don't you know your rightful place?!"
"You need to quit trying"
"You'll never be one of us"
"You don't have a talent for this"
"You have everything you could want, why want this?"
"You don't have cursed energy you can never be someone!"
Voices overlap each other it's as if they say the same things...
Buzz Buzz Bu-
6:01
You hit the clock alarm and sit on the bed a sigh escapes your lips, it's the same everyday, you wake up, you get ready fast, get breakfast before anyone else and head out to Gotham's Academy by 6:45 to get there at 7:10You are already missing the friends you made last year, you miss the Sensei too..
Ding (notification)Ding-
Panda 🐼
+ [Photo]
+ [Photo]
+ [Multiple files attached]
Okkotsu
+ HeyyMakichan
+ Wait I how do you want me to call you? I never asked..... 😞
+ I do remember you said not to call you Zenin, so Maki? Or [Name]?
+ Is is okay if I called you by both? 🥺
Gojo Sensei 🤪
+ HEYYY my favourite ray of sunshine, guess where is our next mission
+ [File attached]
+ [Photo] 😁
Salmon Tuna Mayo 🍣🐟🍙
+ Can you like answer when you can? No hurries, but Panda is gonna going crazy and Yuta looks like a kicked puppy
+ You said you'll send me the music discs
well maybe not that much,
You just shake your head as you turn place the phone on the night table to get ready for the day without checking the notifications
--------------------------------
You walk down the stairs you can hear the laugh, the chatter and then... it all stops when you enter the room, you dont even flinch not anymore, a softer older voice makes you turn around, Alfred
"Morning Alfred"
He greets you with a nod, even if he is the closest you have here the distance can be felt, he offers you breakfast yet he is cut off by you in a softer voice "Nah, can't, I have an exam, can't be late" you thanked him and as you walked out you took the last cookie from Damian's hand making him gasp.
"You insolent-" his voice fades in the distance and as you walk to the mannors exit its as if you can only hear him, maybe you dont blame him much.... maybe its that, maybe its because he doesnt know any better, because he is a child?... even so you feel the distance, the difference in status
If they really wanted, they would try to fix it
'Mai...'
Your sweet little eyes, your little smile is all I remember
Those fuzzy memories mess with my temper
The way to Gotham's Academy, you finally check your phone, and you can’t be more shocked, you read all the messages from the group of your friends
[Soon to be second years!!]
[Gojo-Sensei]
+ @[Name]
+ [insert picture of all the group in front of the gates of Gotham’s Airport]
[Name/Maki]
+ w h a t.
+ Absolutely no.
+ This is a very bad idea.
[Panda]
+ Is it true that the city is haunted??
+ I’ve heard stories about it!
+ is the people really like they say to foreigners
[Okkotsu]
+ Panda we can't just jump into assumptions
+ I bet people is nice
[Name/Maki]
+ people is mean to foreigners.
+ well mostly to people from metropolis
+ also we run by silent 'we all know it but won't talk about it' type of rules
[Salmon Tuna Mayo 🍣🐟🍙]
+ Is the Batman real?
[Name/Maki]
+ Is superman real?
+ what kind of questions is that.....
+ Yeah, he is, and No he can't read your mind, that is a fake new
+ And no, he doesn't eat babies
[Salmon Tuna Mayo 🍣🐟🍙]
+ how did you know what I was gonna ask?
[Name/Maki]
+ . . . . .
[Gojo-Sensei]
+ always so cryptic
+ Okay students! Here is the INFORMATION OFFFF THE MISSION!!!
[Photo of the Clock Tower]
+ Gotham's Clock tower has been in the eyes of the higher ups for a while now, it's been catalogued as a Two Grade or up Place, this mission is important and could get ugly
+ That is why I'm coming with you kids!
+ It is important you are careful around the city it has more than one Special Grade curse, this city is big and dangerous, as your teacher and also the Adult responsible of you all, I need to make sure you understand that the insecurity is not only about the curses, it's the people, we really need to me careful, we need to deal with this as silent and normal as we can, because we are dealing with more than one organization.
+ The court of owls and the League of Assassins. And something else
+ The court wont be much of a problem, we just need to be out of their radar, the city is in fact bugged, On the other hand, The LOA will be a much bigger problem as they are currently active in Gotham.
+ There are three specifical threats out there and its important you know how they look
As you read what he sent of information your brain is already running all the possible events that could be started if this is tended with no care.
[insert Ra's Al Ghul photo]
[Talia's Photo]
[Random cult ahh person]
The feeling in your chest increases slowly as you sigh, shaking your head you place your phone in the pocket of your jacket, you head straight in to your first class, geometry, the entire lecture is not even educational it's just Miss. Johnson talking about her over that got on fire, meanwhile your phone is still getting (silent) notifications, but this time it's the supposed family group chat talking about a movie something night, you silence the group again as you don't care, but even if you did its not your problem.
'Im running out of patience to pretend'
The School hours are educative as they can be, you take your stuff and leave for the mannor, in your mind you go through what you gotta do.
1.- clothe change
2.- get some food
3.- try to say hi to alfred to not alert him or to not make him alert others
The imposing metal bars are infront of you, you could just not place a feet inside ever again... but if you do that a strategic piece of your plan would crumble away, you cant do that, not to ĥ̶̛̻̾͐̿̓͜ḙ̸̟͚͛̚r̷̤̔͋ͅ.
Your head turn to the side.... you are already inside, Damian is watching the tv or so you think to be fully honest you dont pay attention to it, you go directly to your room, you can't see the way he frowns when you ignore him.
Out all the people in this place he feels entitled to you, not in a way where he feels he owns you not anymore but he feel he is entitled to your attention, after all he is your blood sibling, the only one you have is he really so sure about that?
He can be an little shit, he knows that now, and he also knows how lonely you feel in this house, in this family, if only you both grew up together with his mother maybe then... no he cant think like that, the 'If' doesn't work, he's gotta work with what he has, and he will, he sees you now, even if he needs to carve out a place by hand in your life he will.
When he arrived to the mannor he was showered with love and attention from most of his siblings (mostly Dick), but never by you, you never looked at him like a baby, maybe with some pity but never like a child, never like he didn't understand, and you... you looked dull, your eyes looked distant and he felt that his place in the house was endangered, you were are imposing, you didn't looked imposing but his senses felt the urge to navigate carefully around you, as if you could just put him in his place, you didn't look strong, but he knew better, better than subestimate his senses, his mother taught him that, and yet you didn't had a place in the family, not really, you werent really in the mission, but... ofcourse you knew, you needed to know, and he knew you knew, and then...
You left.
well you left for a while and came back with brighter eyes, only he realized, it was obvios only he would realize, he is your only related brother is he? , he never could decipher what made your eyes shine, even if that shine was just a tiny bit brighter, why wasn't it him the reason of that, why couldn't he be your family, why didn't you let him in, the frustration the itch, the pain, its like acid, the pressure...
Only then Damian realized he broke the tv remote in his hand, pieces of it covered in dropplets of red, his face was a bit red from the anger no, no, the envy he felt, his eyes were sharp and dull of emotion, the toxic green of hid eyes was alive from the pit and he knows he wont calm down soon, his emotions are as volatile as Jason's, he can't feel the pain of the wound anymore, he stands up and dumps the destroyed remote to the trash as he very monotonously and decided walks to the cave to fix his hand and yet as he walks towards the medbay he swears to himself that he will be your help your aid, that he'll make you proud
or is he the one that needs the reassurance that he is worth someting to someone?
------------------------
You sneeze, you have a feeling something changed... right, its gonna rain, you take your stuff after leaving a note for alfred, you exit through the kitchen's backdoor, and walk to gotham's best and most famous five-star hotel.
You entered from the roof, the alley from the other street gives a great access to the Hotels side and with your strength you climb it with ease, you look for room 149
I promise this is mostly fluff. But Queenie does die, and it does affect Kinger.
Also don’t ask me how the babies are conceived between 2 literal chess pieces. It’s up to your imagination and we’ll leave it at that. Thankyou 🙃
The year 2020 in this world saw the rise of a horrifying disease known as abstraction. Abstraction was a degenerative disease that attacked the nervous system. If you were to contract It, there is a high possibility it will never leave you. People did end up beating it and surviving but those were rare cases. It caused countless deaths. It was a plague on the population.
Kinger was beyond terrified when his wife Queenie contracted it. They’d followed the rules to a tee, and still she was suffering. For almost 3 years she battled this horrible disease, with the fear of dying hanging over the family’s heads, she was determined to beat it. By her 4th pregnancy, she was Abstraction free. It was currently dormant in her system. They received the news that they were expecting twins, it was a higher risk than a single baby. They chose to continue the pregnancy and thankfully she delivered once again via C-section 2 healthy baby’s. Now with 5 kids, they were done. Until Queenie became pregnant for a 5th time. An accident, but not a completely unwanted accident. The both of them had always wanted a big family.
And then Queenie got sick after the Abstraction started attacking her system again, during her pregnancy. It was once again considered high risk, and they had a long chat about the options. Queenie was stubborn and determined to see things through. It didn’t feel right to terminate, she'd already survived one high risk and that was with twins. She convinced Kinger and they decided to continue. One of the high risks was the baby being born premature. They’d already gone through this with Gangle and were prepared if it were to happen again.
Everything was going pretty smoothly all things considered. The family was preparing for the new addition, the girls were ecstatic, Jax didn’t want a new baby to take all the attention.
It was a quiet day, Kinger was at work, and the contractions started. Queenie was shocked and terrified because she was almost 10 weeks short of her due date. She called kinger and he hurried home. They got Kinger’s brother Scratch to look after the kids.
They headed to the hospital in a panic. Queenie was admitted and taken for a C-section. Their baby boy was delivered and taken to the NICU. Kinger waited patiently to see Queenie.
She didn’t come out. The doctor pulled him aside and told him that she hadn’t made it. Queenie was gone.
The hospital cared for the baby and gave Kinger therapy options. He had a chance to say goodbye to her and broke down sobbing. The baby would have to stay in the NICU for almost 2 months and Kinger would go home. Alone. To his 5 children. To explain that their mum was gone. That their mum wasn’t coming back.
For the moment, Kinger pushed his grief aside to care for his children, explain to them and plan the funeral. Not giving himself this crucial time to grieve led him to experience a breakdown when the baby was discharged. His days felt repetitive and empty. Take Ragatha and Gangle to School. Take Pomni to kindergarten. Care for the twins and the new born. The new born who hadn’t received a name yet. A name was supposed to be decided by both of them, at the hospital while Queenie would be doing skin-to-skin contact. But that didn’t happen and Kinger didn’t know how to move forward with his newborn son.
There was a part of Kinger that blamed Queenie’s death on his son. A tiny part that he pushed away. It was getting harder to function. Neglecting his own needs to tend to his children. This cycle continued. Just him going through the motions. Doing the bare minimum. He fed them, took them to school and put them to bed. It was neglectful to only cater to their needs for survival. He was so tired. Maybe he could just go to sleep and never wake up. So he laid down on his double bed and drifted, he dreamed of his wife.
Time moved and his children were left to fend for Ragatha tried her best, but she was only 8 and was supposed to be at school. The normally quiet baby cried and screamed. No one came. Jax was left to his own devices and decided to climb a tree, too thin a branch and the wrong footing and he fell. His knee bulged and any movement made him scream. Ragatha ran around looking for Scratch’s phone number. She called him on the old phone in the kitchen. He rushed over, grabbed the five kids and the baby and rushed to the hospital. Jax ended up needing surgery to repair his knee. Scratch signed off on it after explaining the situation. He returned back to Kinger’s place and spent the rest of the day caring for the hungry, scared kids.
after everyone was tucked in bed or a crib (Jax needed to stay at the hospital) Scratch confronted Kinger. All the buildup over the months caused Kinger to completely breakdown. With the new revelation on Kinger’s fractured mind and his deteriorating physical state, Scratch decided to step in and help Kinger find a place to receive care. Kinger needed up explaining to the children that he was going away for awhile to get some help. Of course the kids immediately thought he was going away forever like mum had. He hurriedly shut that idea down. He kissed them all goodbye, promised he’d call every day and drove away. (He made a quick stop to explain to Jax what was happening)
It took several months, but Kinger did return. He was grieving, but in a much healthier way. He rejoined his family and was determined to make amends. The first step toward acceptance was finally coming up with a name for his son. He named him Caine, and held him close.
Scratch came around more often to help out on particularly heavy grief days. Those became less and less and Kinger was once again finding joy in the little moments.
if you have any questions, send me an ask or write a comment. I’ve got lots to talk about for this AU :D
