Neglected reader sitting at the dinner table even quieter than usual, barely giving one word responses to any questions, picking at their food with a slight edge—like they weren’t sure of its contents—and giving an awkward purse of their lips whenever anyone accidentally made eye contact with them.
Neglected reader cautiously excusing themselves to go to bed and who is let go with little fuss, though when their back turns some eyebrows furrow in either confusion, concern, or both.
Neglected amnesiac reader who shuts the door gently behind them, pumping their fist in victory after having made it through the entire dinner without knowing a single person’s name.
SYPNOSIS: Being the oldest of the family you only wanted to protect them from the world, even when they turn against you, your stupid big heart will bleed forever for your family till the end of time.
- I know I quit writing but I wish to finsih my draft atleast. Not proof read either.
Warning: DO NOT READ IF YOU CANNOT HANDLE HEAVY TOPIC( example: suicide, phobia, shaming, etc).
" I'll protect you forever! Your big sibling Will never let harm catch you, I can do kungfu! "
Twenty two years ago, Bruce Wayne took you in.
You were starving on the street, clinging to life. Before you could close your eyes you felt the chilling warmth of a man. Batman.
Years later you became the first robin, it was great, brutal even.
Bruce wasn't a good father, he was a good mentor but he wasn't prepared to be a father.
He took you in as his prodigy or a pity child. You couldn't careless. You owed him, he saved you from the slum, you're indebted to him.
For you his gaze were cold, words were lifeless and your moments together felt like a rope tied to you two, doesn't feel mutual, felt forceful.
You tried your best to be his favourite, the best sidekick, the best child, best prodigy. Alfred could see your determination, never thinning always glowing.
" You're a special kid, Young master... You have a big heart, it's rare and I admire it. Don't let the world crush it "
He would advise, he knew that Bruce was too cruel especially to a kid like you, he tried to talk sense into Bruce but... He understand why Bruce wasn't ready.
Alfred only wanted the best for the both of you, but for that to be true... One of you will have to suffer, he doesn't want that.
He tried his best for you, but, you can't force someone someone to be a dad.
Being a dad isn't just responsibility of another person who needs to be guided... To be a dad is to be present in someone's life no matter the age, everyone wants to have a dad.
"Master Bruce, the kid needs you..."
He would call out, Bruce was busy with crimes in Gotham no time for your tantrums or problems... Alfred was the guide, Bruce was the decipline, atleast that's what he thought.
Just another illusion to feel like he was apart of your life... Even if it meant not much, Bruce just needs to feel like he's apart of your life to get the guilt going.
"Im sorry Alfred, im busy. Something is seriously wrong with the new company, I need to investigate. They're a big kid now, they can handle themselves... I believe that"
Alfred frowned upon his words. To some that sounds like believe in the kid, but Alfred knew better... Bruce only believe that you can help yourself, not because he thinks you're strong or believe you just because he needs a reason to not feel guilt.
"They're only twelve, they need their father... It's been hours, they're crying nonstop, Master Bruce, I never want to force you but you need to be the father in their life atleast once"
Bruce could only rub his temple in annoyance, he could never argue with Alfred over the truth.
Deep down Bruce knew that he was in the wrong, to act so brutal towards his child... He wanted to be there but he just Cant.
Something about you was just so repulsive.
He knew, he knew that he fucked up. He also knew that neglecting you isn't going to end well... He also knew that he doesn't want to be your father.
It's not like you ask him to be one...
" Im not their father. "
Bruce said, was it the stress talking? or was it the truth taking over him.
Unfortunately, you overheard his comment.
Standing outside his office, your smile drop.
You can feel your organs flushing down the endless pit inside you... Suddenly the world went quite for you, only his words repeating itself in your head.
Initially you just wanted to be with your father, a hangout... You got more than a hangout in the end.
The feeling of not being wanted sting, it hurt, so bad. It's not even your fault but why does it feel like it's your fault that he doesn't want you.
What's so bad about being... your father? Why was it so disgusting for him? Is it because you were simply disgusting, trash or just because you're you that he didn't want you.
You felt stupid, utterly stupid. The man you look up to, shining light on him and all... Your supposed father, never wanted you? How did you never knew...
Still, did he not want you because you're you? Or would he treat any child the same.
You Didn't need to cry yourself to sleep over that though for too long, because he came along- Richard Dick Grayson came.
He was so innocent, a victim to witnessing his parents die. God, you should have knew... The way Bruce smile while watching him roam the house... It felt strange.
For the first time in your life, you saw Bruce feeling the need to be a proper father. Of course not towards you, but towards that hopeless boy... Never you.
Yet you tried so hard- so hard to sew the family together...
" Im so happy to meet you, you can call me your big sibling...! "
You enthusiastically shake his hand. He was real fun, always smiling, playing together and even sharing secrets.
You truly love him, in a sense a biological siblings would love eachother.
Until he robbed you of your mantle as Robin.
That night, you couldn't help it.
The Robin title was your everything, the only thing that made you feel close to Bruce... Yes, you were still foolishly chasing for his approval and love but who could blame you?
And taking your identity as Robin was just not about being a vigilante or Bruce... It was your only source of attention from others... Your only way to shine, to be seen and loved and...
Surely Bruce would hesitate, he would surely remember of the day when you first held the mantle in your hands, you almost cries.
For once in your life, you were handed something out of being cared for not because of obligation or so you thought...
But , Bruce gave him the mantle, replaced you. Without a single fucking thought...
He replaced you so easily, you felt so insignificant, as if your role was just a prototype before the real deal was finished.
Your relationship with Dick slowly drifted in the end. Bruce and him were the duo of Gotham... What about you?
You could only watch from the shadow as he took the spotlight. It hurt, alot.
Watching the person you want as your dad in the spotlight with... someone who isn't you, hurt.
You wanted to be happy but, you couldn't help but cry in secret. If he could be a father for him why can't he be one for you? What's wrong with you that he doesn't want you? What do you need to do to be loved by your father...?
Grayson couldn't spare his time with you much, he was boy wonder, while you... you were nothing but a replacement bird. How sad. How fucking sad your life is.
Then you left home, for collage... What could you have done anyway. Whine? Cry? As if they'll care.
Bruce never called, Dick called rarely, Alfred was your Anchor for everything.
If not for Alfred you would have cuss out Bruce for years of tears and energy you spent for his approval.
Then while you were gone Jason came along after Dick became Nightwing.
You hated your life so much, but you did came home frequently. As much as your relationship with your family was thinning out, you still love them... In your big heart.
" Jason right? Im happy to have you as part of the family... "
Jason was your favourite, you tried your best with Dick but he was in deep sorrow... thinking that Bruce replaced him.
You knew the feeling... But, deep inside you just really wanted to hug him. Tell him that it's alright, you will always be proud of him... Even if he stole your only connection to Bruce...
Jason was the best, he was somewhat mischievous but it was fun, you two get along despite the age gap.
He was like you, from the slum.. In need of help, but unlike you... Bruce was a great father to him.
Watching them together as they smile hurt so much, you shouldn't be jealous of a kid for... spending time with their dad but... Holy, it fucking hurt.
Wiping your tears with your hand you couldn't help but smile.
" Atleast you have something I wanted... "
Jason was a good kid, he deserves a father... You wish you were good enough to his kid too, but it's already too late.
But, one day while you were away from Gotham Alfred called.
Jason died... under Bruce eyes...
That day, was the worst day of your life.
You didn't stop arguing with Bruce the whole time, you couldn't forgive him, how could he be so careless and let him die...
Bruce was brutal as well... Too damn Brutal, the death of Jason definitely help him be more truthful.
" I knew a child like you only cause nothing but problems, I shouldn't have taken you at all... Nothing but burden from the start "
He spit in your face.
The moment his words landed on you, you could feel the world stopping, yeah you knew but why does it hurt so bad...
It was as if years of wounds opened again after you assumed they heal.
" Master Bruce! Mind yourself, you're speaking out of anger towards your own chil- "
"Enough Bruce, they are no child of mine... I did nothing as a father for them... They do not deserve to be *my* child"
...
...
...
...
" I see... "
Your voice came out, a whisper... As if you were bathing yourself in his word.
The world turned dark, or blurry? you felt cold yet from the tip to your toe you felt the heat radiating...
Throat drying out and your organs were squirming around in your stomach, you were hyper observant of your own body, how your fingers were trembling slightly or how you couldn't stop you muscle from tensing up.
"I-..."
You wanted to speak but you couldn't, it hurt so bad.. So bad, so bad, so bad, so bad...
If he didn't want you why must he do this, to be in your life yet to not be there. How? how does he do it?
Evryone thinks he's so mighty yet he won't accept YOU, what did you ever do to him, you only wanted his love, is it so wrong for a child to need love?
He only acted responsible but he was never caring. Acted out of obligation.
You wanted to claw his throat out, grab his neck and scream and yell, shouting out why he wouldn't love you...
But only you could imagine, in truth you were stuck, frozen, tears rolling down before you could blink...
You press your lips thin together, swallowing your own saliva becomes difficult now... You gave never felt so seen in the worst way possible.
"Young master... Master Bruce is merely stressed and the death or master Jason is making him say something he will regret"
Alfred as usual tried to comfort or ease the tension rising.
"Master Bruce, I do not wish to be in such position ever to correct you but your grief of Master Jason's death give you no privilege to act so barbaric, to curse the child you took under you when they never ask of you... I hope you know that cursing then will only hurt you later"
A lengthy of words, but you couldn't even hear them over Bruce voice...
"I'll be leaving... I assume that you'll be much happier that way..."
Without hesitation you left... You didn't want to hear their words... You just couldn't.
Bruce words of 'not wanting you' , 'burden' , 'problem child' they all were overlapping inside your head... As if a crowd of people were yellow that at you.
-
" So what happened next? You mean to say father incompetence ruin his relationship with his first responsibility, I cannot believe that I could ever be ashame of father's action but I currently am"
Damian ask Dick.
It was christmas, lively, cold and everything nice... And a bunch of kids(one kid, one teen and two adult but all together... kids) were sitting in the cozy big room.
Unfortunately the topic of the first Robin came up.
Dick hesitantly told them the tale of, afterall only Tim and Damian knew nothing of you.
"I never counted B to he the type to act so... cold, towards a child".
Tim added, it's hard to imagine the hero of Gotham and their Bruce to he so... Cruel.
Jason sigh, looking bored as usual... Afterall he wasn't there at his own agreement rather pressured by Alfred.
"Why do you two even care about such old time story?".
"Well unlike you, I certainly care about the past... No wonder you did terribly at History back than"
Damian insulted him, Jason was not that even mad, hell he could barely care about the dog barking.
"Eitherway, what happened? Yknow, after Jason's death... I did know about them but ever since I took the mantle I never saw them once..."
Tim was quite- no very interested in this whole story.
Afterall, five years ago he did try to find you and your information but nothing... As if Bruce himself wipe you.
But in the end Bruce found out about the truth, warned Tim and unfortunately the idea somehow slip out of his mind.
"They're fine, happy... with a family... They cut tie with us but im pretty sure that is the best option for them"
Dick said, he was sad of the outcome but it was the best one.
"Are you certain?"
Damian asked. It's such a flat answer, it's hard to believe that after all that story it's just yay happy ending.
"Belive it or not, that's the truth"
Jason added. Tim and Damian were still abit skeptical but these two are the only source of information, so no choice but to unwillingly agree.
After dinner Jason was smoking outside the maynor, it was comforting and quite stress free moment until he heard Dicks footstep.
"There you are, let's go"
Dick was wearing the black muffler given by Alfred, it was cozy and quite warm... perfect for the cold weather of Christmas.
"Next time, I'll leave your ass behind"
A warning or a threat... Dick couldn't help but laugh at it anyway, he didn't even take it seriously.
Chatting idly they began to walk out the gate of the maynor, deeper into the wood, the crunching of snow beneath their feet.
For a moment, you could see two yount boys walking down... As if the past was fixed and instead of Dick ignoring Jason the two of them, or the younger imagine of them were getting together as intended.
"Here we are... It's awfully peaceful here"
Dick chuckled as he clean the stone that was covered in snow with such tenderness.
"Why did you argue on it being here then on the compound of the maynor...?"
Jason ask, to be honest walking 2 miles was nothing but abit illogical when the 2 miles could have been 34 steps.
"Cause, they'll hate to be so close to the maynor... for them, that place only brings pain"
"I don't understand how you could... Lie to those dumb ass... I hate the way you covered for Bruce and how... you let your delusion run"
Jason sit down on the ground as he let out his lighter lighting his cigar, puffing out white smoke as he looked up.
The truth was...
Dick got worried after hearing about you and Bruce argument and how you wouldn't pick up the phone calls from Alfred even after a week.
He came to your apartment, knocking over and over again but you never came.
He force his way in... Then suddenly.
Chair on the ground, as id kick away. The creaking of the fan and... your body hanging from the fan.
Your body was still, lacking any sign of live... The rope was tight against your neck... your eyes were somewhat opened, but he could only see the white.
Yet your eyes, they scare him deeply.
He could never forget the look on your dead face, so alive yet so... empty.
Your mouth opened as if gasing for air, the slight drool mic with tears and the pungent smell of death.
At first he couldn't even move, nor cry or panick... He was lock in shock.
What was worst was that while Dick hold onto your cold body, he cried so hard. Begging for you to come back, cursing himself.
"Please, please, Don't leave me.. I haven't even told you- how... greatful I am of you, please don't, don't do this..."
He knew no matter how hard he called, you'll never open your eyes again... Afterall you have been dead for two days.
God, he wondered how lonely you would have been during those days, did you regret it? the purple line of bruises on your neck linger onto his head.
How much have you been suffering....?If only he wasn't so immature back then, maybe you'd be alive and happy..
"... It's better if they don't know the truth, but im sure we both know that they'll prefer the lie..."
Dick continue as he pulled himself out of that memory.
"Hell, don't act like it's much, you always visit atleast once a week, I've seen you talking to the them..."
Hearing that Jason almost groan out of frustration, only because Dick was likely to tease him.
It was true, Jason always visited your grave atleast once a week. Talking, telling you about how shitty life was, Bruce and how he missed you.
He could never forget you, afterall you were the first person to welcome him with love and care...
"A happy family you say? I do not think they'll be able to catch any person with their temper"
Jason joked, they both were actively grieving you by imaging a future where you live, happy and healthy.
"That's... true. But hey, some like it spicy afterall"
Thinking about a neglectful reader... Hmm, no, that's kinda harsh. Let's just say a ✨forgetful✨ reader.
Reader who so easily forgets people's faces and names. When summer vacation ends they'll go back to school and not remember the names of their own classmates unless reader's regularly interacted with them through the vacation. Like practically their whole conversation that first day back to school is like this:
Reader's Classmate: Reader, hi! How was your vacation?
Reader: Oh hi! 😊 (a suspiciously cheerful smile in place of the classmate's name) Mine was nice. How about yours?
RC: Niceee. ...you forgot my name again, didn't you.
Reader, humbly: My bad 🤞😔
Even reader's own best friends know they aren't invincible. If any of them has to go away with no contact with reader longer than three days, they will come back wearing a name tag or something similar and gesture aggressively to it.
Reader's friend #1, back from a week-long academic camp: *gives the sign to other friends*
Friends #2 to #5, moving their arms and heads into the letters of friend #1's name and shouting cheerleader-style: J! A! N! E! J-A-N-E JANE!!!
Reader, mortified: Oh my god sorry I have the memory of a goldfish?? 😭 We chatted nightly the whole week, I still remember your name!!!
Friend #1: 😐 I have to stay vigilant. One time you forgot my name mid-conversation with me
Reader, now offended: And one time we were traveling together you forgot my existence at the subway card reader!!!
Friend #1: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Reader: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻
The thing is, though, reader's memory in general is not equal to a goldfish. Honestly, they're pretty good at remembering stuff. It's just like this post.
In reader's case, obviously, the forget everything part is about people's names and faces.
In relation to this, do you know the family full of black-haired blue-eyed boys who, in spite of the lack of blood relation (sans the youngest who is ironically the only one not with blue eyes or white skin) look very similar to the patriarch?
That's right: The Wayne's, a.k.a the Batfamily.
A.k.a difficulty level: HELL when it comes to differentiating between names and faces.
So here's reader, the neglected child in the fam. The one whom the Batfam treats like air, or like a pet they're indifferent about–smiling politely and making small talk with reader when they're not busy and happen to encounter each other, at best just as politely excusing themselves but not infrequently outright snapping at reader when they're busy. More importantly, the one whom the Batfam never hangs out with, and therefore also the one who keeps forgetting their names.
Reader, passing by Dick: *nods casually* 'Sup, Nick.
Dick: Oh haha, very funny, Reader. You know my name
Reader: ?
Dick:
Reader:
Dick: You... Do know my name... Don't you?
Reader, remembering Jason-whose-name-they-also-have-forgotten calling Dick 'Dickolas': Isn't... Isn't it Nick? Like Nicholas?
Dick: ...
Reader: *absconds*
Jason: Hey, kiddo. Heard you misremembered Goldie's name
Reader, having already forgotten Dick's name again but unfortunately still remembers the Incident™ clearly: Haha, yeah (눈‸눈)
Jason: Heh, good for you. Dickiebird does need to be taken down a peg or two sometimes
Reader, getting premonition, now trying to recall Jason's name: U-huh. Sure
Jason: Yeah, like he's the golden boy and all, sure, but it's not as if everybody needs to know or remember him, right? And-
Reader, getting premonition harder, trying to recall Jason's name more frantically: What was it... Was it something ending with 'son'...? Oh, wasn't there the Grayson–wait that can't be a first name... Huh, didn't one of them once call him something ending with 'ay' instead? Or was it somebody else? Nah, the figure back then looked like his. Hmm May, Day, Kay... Gay? Oh–
Jason: -anyway! You remember my name, don't you?
Reader, premonition confirmed: *confidently nods* Of course, Gaylord
Jason:
Reader:
Jason, grabbing reader's shoulders: How the fuck did you get that name out of mine
Reader: 🫥
Tim, barging into reader's room: Reader, we need to ta–aaAAAA!!!
Reader, having completely forgotten Tim's face: HELP!!! PERVERT!!! THERE'S A PERVERT IN MY ROOM!!!
Tim: I'M YOUR BROTHER! STOP SCREAMING! AND MORE IMPORTANTLY STOP SPRAYING ME WITH BUG SPRAY!!!
Reader, tucking the bug spray can under their blanket: Oh, why didn't you say so
Tim: 🙂💢
Tim: Okay, never mind that. We need to talk about your constantly forgetting people's names. This is a serious matter, people will think you're being impolite by forgetting them–
Reader: Didn't you 'forget' to prepare a table for that couple you disliked at the last gala?
Tim, without hesitating a beat: No, damn, you misremembered that too? Anyway here, I made you this easy-to-remember PowerPoint for you to know–
Reader, knowing full well Tim lied: 😒 Yeah yeah, sure, I'll take a look when I have the time. Thanks bro
Tim, pausing: ...look at the PowerPoint
Reader, spitefully: I will. Later. When I have the time. Bye, dude
Tim: Look at it now. Look at my page. Look at my name!!!
Reader: LATER, MAN!!!
That night at dinner.
Reader: Thanks for the PowerPoint again!
Tim, gripping the water glass stem: Yeah...?
Reader: Yeah, it was so useful to remember everyone's names and faces
Tim, gripping harder: Right...?
Reader: That's right! So thank you for that...
✨William✨
Tim shatters the glass in his hand. Reader has no regret.
Damian, victim to being the youngest child in the family and having had Bruce call everyone's names including the pets' before finally getting to his, wielding a katana: My name is Damian Al-Ghul Wayne. Carve it into your soul lest I carve it into your flesh
Reader, unfazed: No use carving your name on me, I'd still forget it was supposed to be yours. Write it on your forehead or something instead
Damian: I'm your brother! You're not supposed to forget my name!! I've always remembered yours ever since I learnt about you!!!
Reader: *looks at Bruce, outwardly polite but inwardly indifferent*
Bruce: *looks at reader, outwardly indifferent but inwardly disturbed*
Reader, having counted to ten: Sooo, is there something you want to talk to me about? Because if not I still have homework and stuff to do–
Bruce: Reader
Reader: ?
Bruce, pained: It has come to my attention... You often forget your brothers' names?
Reader, accidentally slipping: Not just theirs. I regularly forget everyone's names
Bruce: ...even mine?
Reader:
Bruce:
Reader: Uhh, look here. It's–it's not that I mean to be mean, you know? I forget my own friends' names, I forget everyone's. And, really, it's–
Reader: ...I shouldn't even be addressing you by name, you know
Bruce: ...ah
Reader: *absconds before Bruce realizes that reader hasn't called him any variation of dad for years*
Alfred: Young Mx–
Reader, vaguely recalling Alfred's (sur)name as Super British: Hi, London! Bye, London!
Alfred: .
This doesn't have to be yandere Batfam, of course, but if it does? Naturally, it warrants the Batfam keeping reader at home for them to constantly interact with. This way they'll never forget the names of their own family members, right, reader?
(Cue the whole Batfam having to fight in space for a whole month, then coming back to reader having escaped, faked their death, forged a new identity, started a new life elsewhere, and most importantly forgotten the Batfam's names again)
The writer was one of the children bought and adopted by Reginald Hargreaves.
She grew up with seven Siblings, with whom they were a superhero team. But after Five (Her closest brother) goes missing and Ben dies, the team collapses.
The reader begins a new life without abilities. She meets Bruce. At first they really love each other. They even get married. They have adopted children, whom the reader loves very much.
But over time, she begins to see her husband as her father. She learns his secret. That he's Batman, And their children were Robins.
Things get worse when Vanya releases his book about their "real life." this makes the reader's condition even more Fragile.
After Jason's death, she tries to comfort Dick with stories about her family. About Ben. But Richard just shrugs off her help.
The reader has never seen an example of a normal family, but she tried her best to make her family happy.
The final point is the appearance of Damian. Judging by his age, he appeared after their wedding. But she's still trying to become an understanding and supportive figure for him.
But in the end, all the Kids turn away from her, even Bruce.
The reader is disappointed in her husband at the end.
When the news of Reginald's death arrives, she considers it a blessing. This will help her to clear her head.
But the family reunion is interrupted by the appearance of Five, saving the world (twice).
When the Reader returns to the present and notices that they were not even born in this timeline, she rejoices at the chance to start life anew.
Meanwhile, batfam feels that something is missing, that most of something is missing, but they can't remember what.
A bonus would be if in the 50s and 60s the reader had another family, a husband and children with whom she was happy, and after returning in 2019 she still loves her old children, and when batfam finds out everything about the reader and her family, they start to get jealous.
It's me again!! Got a different PC, my brother got a new one gave me his old one one, so now I'm stuck writing on Windows 10! Sorry if anything is wrong, for some reason my keyboard lags when I type too fast so I'm stuck seeing everything show up slowly...hahah.
My writing might be hot buns but god damn it I will finish this damn draft
Anyway!!! So for this one I'm thinking Reader died reading a trashy fanfic of the Batfam and ended up as the side character who is straight up forgotten by the plot and replaced by the fics protagonist. And the only time they ever get shown is to die.
However Reader is not doing so hot, having been stuck in a death loop for the better half of 10 long years! Then one day they snap and stop caring about it all!!
Quick disclaimers/warnings before we start! Gore, violence, death. body horror, Reader is down right crazy, possessive and obsessive actions/thoughts, child neglect, Reader believes that everyone is only faking interest in them, Underage Dr1nk1ng, stalker-ish actions, Reader is kinda channeling Aaron Burr from Hamelton the Musical and AM from IHNMAIMS, su1c1dal/passively su1c1dal Reader, bullying, Reader is NOT a good person in this one (for the most part), Reader is akin to a cornered feral animal on laughing gas, Reader dehumanizes themself
You lie awake on the overly fancy bed of your overly empty room. How many deaths does this make? 89? 90? 99? You lost track after being torn limb from limb by Harley's freaky ass hyenas for the 33rd time.
Silent tears fall from the corners of your eyes as you watch the ceiling fan spin around and around. Your eyes hold no light and you can't help but feel like a dead corpse living within the suffocating flesh of another person.
You can still remember the first time you woke up like this. You had once been a wide eyed naïve little thing, thinking you could stay away from the plot and live a lavish life! Just like in those silly online comics you read! Surely this wasn't so bad? I mean, yeah your entire family ignored you or tried to stab you but at least you had the comfort of money!
Wrong! After Y/N shows up you get cut off from the funds and taken out of the will so Y/N can have funding for herself! And if you try to complain? Throw a fit? Meekly ask to not be kicked out? Death!
Sometimes you can't help but feel so overwhelmingly sorry for your pitiful past self. Just how could they be so dumb? So stupid? To think anyone would love them, no, not in this place! Not when Y/N is around and basking in the spotlight like it's her natural birthright.
A memory crosses your mind, one where you had accidently ran Y/N over in one life which caused the entire Wayne family and friends to hunt you down, and started to laugh. How silly it was! The way her body went 'crunch' as you tried so desperately to stop the car.
You really didn't mean it. You tried so hard to explain that the brakes weren't working and you tried to swerve out of the way. Oh but did they listen? Ha ha no! They didn't! They left you for dead in Arkham Asylum where you suffered such a terrible ending before ending up right back at the start.
Your ribs start to hurt the longer you continue laughing, yet you can't seem to stop yourself. It's like with every laugh more and more of your fears and sanity simply 'pop' into nothingness. Isn't that silly? Imagine going through life over ninety nine times, each dying from one thing or another, and finally on your one hundredth life you seem to finally lose it mentaly?
How hilarious! It actually took you one hundred deaths to finally start going crazy!!
Someone knocks on your door and you silence yourself immediately. What's this? This is new...no one has ever knocked on your door during the first three hours of your reset.
You don't make an effort to get up, nor to even call out to see who it was. Why would anyone knock on your door? No...you must be hearing things. How silly of you. You smile to yourself as you continue to stare at the ceiling.
You try to think of what to do in this life but after living ninety nine life times what is there to do? You turn over and catch yourself in the mirror. You look insane. Messy hair, tears streaming from your dead and empty looking eyes, a wide toothy smile that you can't shake, and faint almost invisible scars that litter your skin.
Where did these scars come from? They traveled over from your past lives of course! Oh how you wish you could get rid of them, but alas. It stains your skin like ink that you can never wash away.
You sit up with an idea. Perhaps...just maybe...in this life you commit to the bit and finally go crazy? Yes. It wouldn't matter anyway since you'll simply die and start all over! Again, and again, none of it matters! None of it at all!
You break down into manic giggles. This time you do not cry, you just laugh wildly before losing your breath and starting to wheeze as you flop back down onto the bed. Your hands run over the patterned fabric like you were trying to sooth yourself, or commit the pattern to memory. You have exactly two weeks before Y/N shows up and another ten weeks before you have to scramble for both housing and money.
Something in the back of your mind pulls taut before snapping into two but all you can hear is the sound of your own laughter.
Jason stood outside your room, hand ready to knock once more. He was a little worried considering it sounded like you were either having a manic attack or you were severely hyped up on laughing gas. Once your room goes silent he presses an ear to the door.
Should he step in? Is this normal for you? He wouldn't know considering he hasn't stepped foot near you after his revival. Why should he? You were...normal...a civilian stuck with vigilante for a family. He didn't want to get you caught up in whatever the hell was going on in his night life.
After a moment of pure silence the sound of giggles fill the room and the hair on his neck rises. For the smallest of moments your laugh reminded him of that night with the Joker. He shakes his head as he goes to open the door only for the sound of footsteps walking his way stopped him.
He turns to face Damian, who was standing at the edge of the hallway with his head titled and eyes narrowed in a sort of questioning manner. He doesn't speak, only raising a brow, and Jason lets out a sigh.
Jason lets his hand fall from the doorknob and makes his way towards Damian. He shouldn't interfere with your life. You deserve more than some half broken man with too many problems.
You listen to the footsteps get further and further away from your door. Guess you really weren't hearing things. You press your lips together to a thin line before your clutching at your stomach and giggling to yourself. You start to hiccup as you kick your feet on the bed all while laughing to yourself.
Did they really just chicken out on trying to talk to you?! Pathetic! Oh the big bad Bats and Birds can't even hold a conversation with their own family?? Oh that's too good!
You wipe away the tears from your eyes and check the time. If you remember correctly you have school today, just like always, and this is the day someone stabs you in the hand. How evil of them! Doing such a thing to a poor, defenseless, teen like you!!
But it's whatever. You have better things to think about. You sit up, smoothing out the blankets, and head to your tiny little closet. Your room wasn't that big, only the size of a small bedroom of a run down apartment. Sure that's more space than what other people have but in a big manson like this one? This might as well be a storage room.
You pull out your school uniform for Gotham Prep and give it a once over before stuffing it back into the closet. Instead you grab the school official cardigan that's normally used for the winter time and decide to wear that one instead. Ever since that one death, where you were turned to ice by Mr. Freeze, you've always been a bit chilly so it wasn't that big of a deal to you.
After shrugging on the cardigan you slip on some pants, making sure to grab two matching socks, before putting on your shiny black shoes that looked heavily worn and torn. You look at yourself in the mirror, looking over the uniform for any imperfections, before doing a small twirl. You look great! The only way to spice this slightly bland look is to add a few accessories.
You turn to your only desk and eye the small amount of jewelry you have. Your eyes land on a small pair of red X's with a black rim, then your eyes land on an aquamarine tear drop ring with a shiny gold band. This one was your favorite because it was also your mothers! You think back to that one life time Y/N tried to claim it as hers, so you swallowed it to keep her from getting her greedy hands on it.
Ohhh they were not happy with you after that. But who cares? The memory brings a smile to your face. Perhaps you'll eat it now just to keep her from seeing it entirely...Nah not right now. You want to wear it today. You grab it from the desk and slip it on, marveling at it for a few seconds before grabbing the flower shaped aquamarine earrings and putting them on. Now you look stunning.
Forget about Martha Wayne's pearls, these aquamarines are a [Last name] delicacy only!
Now you were finally ready to go to school, and to try and avoid getting the tendons in your hand severed forever. You skip down the hallway with a grin on your face and schoolbag in hand. Screw it, who cares what happens to day. You'll make the most of it and do it your way!
As you skipped down the stairs you remained oblivious to the confused look of both Alfred and Bruce. It was clear that they hadn't ever seen you so happy. Which was a shame considering you had such a lovely smile.
So it seems it was a lot easier to say that than it was to actually do that. Here you were surrounded by a circle of teens who were all praying on your downfall. On the other side of the circle was one of your classmates with a knife, you think it's the guy from math but you aren't certain, and you new there was no way out of this. Nobody would save you, just like they hadn't all those times before.
You tilt your head to the side and shrug off your backpack. Someone from the crowd 'Ooo's and the rest fallow along. The other kid, someone whose name you've long since forgotten, takes offence to that and lunges at you with the knife aimed for your heart. You dodge him of course, only stepping to the side to avoid his attack.
Having faced much more frightening deaths you can't say that some dumb teen with a knife scares you. The knife does graze you, cutting a long line from one side of your left shoulder to the other, but you don't pay it any mind. The only thing you're thinking about is the fact that you're bleeding and it doesn't hurt.
Fascinating. You wonder how it would feel to...inflict such damage in return. An image of the teen lying on the ground in a heap with blood leaking from his head passes through your head and you smile. That seems fun, repaying him for all the times he's managed to cut you.
Just as the teen lunges again you step to the side, griping his arms in a tight grip and twist them to the side. A sickening crack fills the air and the crowd gasps in shock. The teen screams in agony but all you can do is stare down at him with apathetic eyes. Was everyone really into this? It's so...boring.
Perhaps you need to up the pain? You grip him by the hair and slam his face into the brick wall you were backed up against. A giggle breaks free as you see his face contort in pain. He looks so stupid like this! You slam him against the wall again, watching as his face starts to redden with each slam.
The moment his nose starts to bleed your giggles turn into a full on laughter. This was what everyone liked? Bloodshed? Red faces and pained screams? How silly! You could do so much worse.
You grab the knife from the ground as you turn to the crowd. Blood stains your hands like a mirror to the blood on the wall. Your cardigan is stained with blood. However you don't worry too much as you know how to get it out thanks to your many past lives.
The crowd backs up and people start to murmur to each other. "They finally lost it..." One person whispers to another.
"How creepy" Says another.
"Does their dad know they're this mentally gone? Oh right." Another voice snorts and soon the entire crowd is whispering or laughing at you.
Should you laugh too? Something must be funny about all this if they're laughing. You turn your eyes upon them and laugh along. Soon they slowly stop laughing and only stare at you in response. Your eyes are so empty looking and yet you have the audacity to laugh like that?
What a freak.
Someone places a hand on your shoulder and you instinctively aim the knife towards their eyes, stopping just short as you realize who it is. There he stands. Your older brother who abandoned you time, and time, and time again.
How could you ever forget the face of Dick Grayson! His eyes were always so full of either pity or distain. It pissed you off to no end. He instantly removed his hands from your shoulders and raised them up as if to say 'I mean no harm'.
You put the knife down because you know better than to stab one of Bruce's children. Instead of greeting him you shrugged off your cardigan, trying not to look at the damaged white button up that was getting soaked in your own blood, and tied it around your waist. You took the knife and bent down to the unconscious attacker.
You only got to raise the knife in the air before Dick stopped you with a shout, "Stop!" You turn around with narrowed eyes and a face that screamed 'I'm judging you so badly right now'.
He seemed a bit embarrassed when he saw your face but he still continued. "He's already down, you don't have to stab him again."
"...what? I'm not going to stab him. I'm just cutting up his clothes." You responded with an arched brow. Did he really think so little of you to assume that you'd try and stab this guy?
"Huh? No, wait, you don't need to do that either??"
"Uhhh yes I do? Bitch, do I look like I have something to stop this bleeding?" You gesture to yourself as you continue to judge him. "Hell no, I'm taking this assholes fabric to use. He clearly doesn't need it."
You glance back at his face as you begin to cut the cloth into thin strips for you to use and stop. You have to bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing again at how dumb he looks.
He looks like he just got told the moon landing was fake and that the moon was also fake. "Yes??? You are the child of The Bruce Wayne! We have money for you to use?!"
You almost feel bad for the guy. Almost. But with that one comment the silly moment had passed and the dull ache in your heart has returned. You scoff and throw a nearby rock at him, watching as it hits him in the arm.
"Hey! What'd you do that for?" He gives a fake little yelp and you know he's not really in pain. He's clearly suffered from worse, so you aren't too sure why he's acting now.
You don't say anything. What would you even say? All the words you want to say simply burn into ash and melt on your tongue when you even try. And it's not like they'd actually listen to you. They'll just pick up whatever they want to hear and discard all the rest.
When you don't say anything he gives you a once over. Your pants have a few patched holes in them, your shoes are scuffed to hell and back but they still looked somewhat cared for, and from where your clothes were ridding up he could see the outlines of a plenitude of scars. Were you really being neglected in the manor like this?
He thought....he thought that someone was looking out for you. At least Alfred had to be....right? Where the hell did you get all these scars???
The longer he looks at you the more you feel like he was judging you. If he doesn't stop soon then you swear to what ever god has abandoned you, you will bite his ass. Maybe even give him rabies.
Just as you were about to wrap your arm up with the newly acquired fabric someone wraps their arms around your waist and lifts you into the air. You squirm like a feral cat, kicking every which way in hopes that whoever it was would drop you, but to no luck.
Finally after a good minuet of struggling you go limp in their arms. You look up to see the face of your captor and scowl when you notice it's still Dick. A pity, you'd actually prefer to get kidnaped and sold like that one time than having to deal with him.
"The hell do you want now? I've got a bus to catch." You grumble just loud enough for him to hear. It wasn't a lie, but you weren't going back to the manor. You had plans to go house hunting before you were even kicked out.
"The bus? What? No, Alfred will pick us up." He sends you a confused look before doubling back with an even more confused and worried look. "You take the bus?!"
You 'tsk' and refuse to answer him. You turn your eyes down to the ground and watch as he carries you to an empty classroom. Once inside he sets you down on a table and tells you not to go anywhere before looking for a first aide kit.
With no where else to go, and nothing else to really do, you comply with his demand and sit. You roll your eyes the longer it takes him to locate the damn thing. You swing your feet before letting out a groan and pointing to a cabinet on the other side of the room.
"Are you stupid? It's in that one." He sputters out a vague sound before he gives up and just sighs in defeat. That's right, this fucker is clearly lacking braincells so that makes you the smarter one here.
He finally grabs the first aide kit and circles back to the table you were on. With as much gentleness he can he rolls up your sleeve, trying not to wince at the half crusted blood nearly fusing the shirt to your arm, and start dabbing at it with some cleaning alcohol.
When you don't hiss in pain, or cry out, or even flinch at the sting of alcohol, he can't help but try and piece together just what the hell you went through to be so numb to all of it. He's starting to worry about your day to day life. Maybe he should try and take you under his wing, just to keep you from getting hurt again.
As if reading his mind you let out a scoff and tug your arm away from him. He looks up with a raised brow and you only stare at him with your lips curled in disdain. What right does he have to look at you with such eyes of pity?
"Don't look at me like that." You hop off the table, taking your cardigan off the table and tie it around your waist. "Go home Grayson. Damian is waiting for you." You point to the clock on the wall, which read half past four pm and which also meant that Dick was supposed to be picking up Damian half an hour ago.
"Huh? Oh! Oh sh-" You slam the door behind you, cutting off the rest of his words, and make your way outside. The crumbled five dollars in your bag is barley enough to get you a bus ride to the middle of Gotham's poorest district.
As you continue walking the streets you let your eyes wonder, taking in every dull and mundane sight you can see. A kicked over trash can with green liquid spilling from it, a fight between a pretty woman and a raggedy man where the pretty woman is beating the guys ass so hard you almost feel bad for him, and other such sights greet you in return. Oh yeah, this place will do.
Who would ever think that an ex rich kid would willingly move to this place? That's right, nobody! The only thing you need next is roughly twenty thousand dollars to buy yourself both an apartment and furniture for it. Well you don't really need twenty thousand, you would just like to have twenty thousand so you can freely decorate your apartment any way you'd like.
While lost in thought you don't see the lanky figure stalking you from behind. It isn't until you make it all the way to an abandoned corner store did you finally pick up on the sound of echoing footsteps. A weird feeling curls in your chest at the idea of having a stalker. Was it fear? Excitement? Rage?
You pass the abandoned store and stop, listening to see if they were still fallowing you. When your ears pick up on the footsteps behind you, you allow yourself to be fallowed into an alleyway. Of course you aren't stupid so you made extra sure there would be no witnesses for what you were about to do next.
After all, the best way to get money in Gotham is to sell lots and lots of priceless items. And what's more priceless than human organs? Thank goodness for the empty glass jars lying at the end of the alleyway, it seems that the gods are favoring you in this life time after all!!
The man at the counter looks down at the jars and then back to your smiling face with a raised brow of confusion. You raise your own brow and stare him down, your smile morphing into a frown.
"Are you going to buy it or what? It's fresh, so don't waste my time." You cross your arms and refuse to break eye contact with the man. After staring at you for a few seconds he lets out a sigh of defeat and starts looking at the contents of the jars.
In one jar there's nothing but teeth, another is full of intestines. He places them down on to a cart behind him and looks over the remaining ones. How the hell you managed to fit an entire brain into a jar without damaging it is beyond him, he's a little afraid to even ask how.
After going over all the jars he pulls out a duffle bag of cash and hands it over to you while avoiding your fingers like it's acid. Guess you managed to creep him out? Whatever, it doesn't matter to you!
"If you skimped on the money I'll know, so lets hope you paid me what I'm owed!" You take the bag and start to count it, making eye contact with him every so often so he doesn't get any funny ideas. You were hoping for at least thirty thousand, considering you brought in fresh items that were hard to find, but you'd settle for ten or twenty.
Why the large amount of money? Well it turns out the person stalking you was in pretty good health, nothing broken and perfectly good organs! Do you know how hard that is to find in Gotham? The most toxic wasteland of cities to exist? Of course so you wanted more money, finding this was literally a god send!!
When you finally finished counting you had roughly thirty three thousand in cash and one very creeped out employee. You put the cash back and flash him a warm smile as you thank him for his hard work. He shudders and turns away from you, telling you to "get out of here already."
You do a two finger salute as you skip out the store. Despite the weird middle half of the day it seems that you were really lucky! I mean, thirty three thousand cash? The things you could do with that amount of money! First things first you're buying the apartment, then some furniture, and with the rest? Hmm...
Your ears pick up on the sound of clinking of glass. You lick your lips as you stare at two people, a man in a brown trench coat and a woman with black hair and a magician outfit, cross arms and take a shot of whisky. A drink sounds so good right now. Forget about underage drinking, you were turning 18 soon and holy shit could you use something to pass the time.
Would underage drinking mess up your head even more? Yes, but with your impending doom right around the corner you were going to drink until you dropped! You shake your head and head back to the apartment. You have to buy an apartment first.
You turn around and glance at a flower shop, snapping a quick photo of it before returning back to what you were doing.
Buying the room wasn't that hard considering this was Gotham, and it was only twelve hundred so it wasn't even that much. The rest of the money would be split into three categories; emergency funds, furniture funds, and down-the-drain funds. You squirrel away the other two fund but pocket the 'down-the-drain' funds and head to the one place you know would serve you despite your age.
It's nothing fancy, just a small hole in the wall pub right smack-dab in the middle between Crime Alley and The Bowery. It called itself "Clubs Castel" and it had a very regal card themed interior. The food was okay, but the drinks were really where it was at. Almost every day of the week they changed drinks, partially because they "wanted to keep things interesting" and the other half was probably because they never wrote any of their mixes down.
But forgetting about all of the unnecessary stuff- this was one of the only places that you knew for a fact would sell anything to anyone as long as they had the right kind of coin. As the age old saying goes "Money makes the world go round" and if you don't have the money, you don't have the life! But you? You just earned yourself all the money you needed. Sure it won't last you very long, and sure you were always one hospital trip away from being back on the streets, but what does it matter?
You'll just die again, and again, and again, for one dumb reason or another, so who cares! Life is meaningless and all things must return to soil! You pick up the red apple themed mixture and down it all in one gulp. You have to blink away the tears as it burns the back of your throat and defiles your taste buds. You can never get used to the taste of it, but you guess that just means you could always pick the sweeter drinks.
One shot goes down, then another. And another, and another, and another! You were downing these cups like they were water. At some point a crowd had gathered around you to cheer you on with their drunken joy.
You basked in their presence like the emotionally starved person you were and even started doing tricks for them. You held your hands behind your back and started drinking shots with just your teeth. If there was a fruit with a stem you'd tie the stem into a bow and present it to the crowd like it was gold.
You had even found a lighter and set another glass on fire before drinking that too. The burns hurt, but you knew they'd heal. And besides, if the crowd liked it- then who cared.
After a few more drinks you noticed that the usual buzz under your skin was missing. You set down the shot glass that you were just about to drink and stand up. The best way to test if you were actually hammered or not was to walk, but some dumb part of your mind said "Let's do a flip instead!" and you had foolishly decided to listen to it.
You stepped away from the bar and to the dance floor. Perhaps if you failed you could trip a few people on your way down and then laugh at them? Ehh....
You swung your arms out and then clapped your hands before doing a back flip. Surprisingly you didn't fall flat on your face! A few people whistled in delight and that was that. Guess you weren't hammered enough, so back to the bar you go!
Or so you thought. Turns out someone had paid the bartenders not to give you any more drinks because someone, you don't know who yet but trust that you will find them, is a bitchless loser who hates to see you happy. But you knew better than to pick a fight with a bartender in their own bar. So you downed your last shot and left. But on the way out you snagged a singular bottle from a table of guys who weren't paying attention to what was in front of them.
The cold air did absolutely nothing to your flushed skin but it did help bring your head back down from the clouds. Not all the way but just enough to notice the towering figure of your supposed older brother standing right outside the bar.
You lock eyes with one very pissed looking Jason Todd as you take a sip of the bland beer. You wince and shudder as the taste touches your tongue but you refrain from spitting it out. He crosses is arms but doesn't say anything.
You offer him a sip, hoping that he'd take the sip and leave you the hell alone. But your hopes are dashed when he downs the entire bottle like a dickwad and picks you up by the scruff of your clothes after tossing the bottle at the wall. Gosh that's like the second time this has happened to you today. Now you wish you had drank a little more.
"Do you have any idea what time it is right now?" Jason's voice sounds heavily pissed but if you were delusional enough you could trick yourself into hearing a faint twinge of concern.
You don't say anything and just let yourself be carried to his car. As much as you wanted to pick a fight you had no confidence in winning against him. Rage bubbles underneath your skin the longer the silence stretches.
So what if he's mad? It's not like he cares anyway. He'll forget all about you once Y/N shows up. And for once in your many lives you can't wait for that bitch to show up.
"Are you even listening to me?" He shakes you a bit as he stuffs you into the backseat but you still hold your tongue. There was no point in anything. Nothing mattered to you anymore. All of it was so...boring.
You turn your head to the window and squish your face against the glass like a sad pathetic dog. You hear him sigh at your silence as he buckles his own seatbelt.
"Where the hell did you even learn all those tricks?" He mumbles under his breath. The rest of the drive home was silent.
You really don't know what he was expecting to happen when he walked you to your room and nobody even checked in on you. Alfred was probably cleaning the other side of the mansion, Damian was on patrol with literally every other person in this place, and your 'Father' was right there with them.
It took a lot more than biting your lip and looking away to keep yourself from laughing at his dumbfounded expression. Before he had another chance to say anything that could make your day worse you slam the door in his face. You don't move until your hear his footsteps fade away.
The smile falls from your face and the warmth under your skin fades into nothingness. You pull out your phone and open up the photos app. You scroll to the photo you took earlier that day when passing the flower shop, swiping past the photos you took with the crowd of drunken people, and zoom in on the background.
Once you spot the tuff of blond hair you smile ever so slightly and plug your charging cord into the computer and print out the photo. You pin it to the wall with a clear thumbtack and step away. The longer you stare at the face of the girl who will lead you to your death, the longer you start to feel your stomach churn with rage and envy.
You take the pale purple envelope opener that was lying on your desk and throw it at the photo. It lands in the space between her ear and face, which was slightly covered by a boutique of flowers. Your chest burns with such furry that for a small moment you fear you're having a heart attack.
You tear your eyes away from the photo for only a moment to try and catch the reigns to your emotions. You lean on the dull wall closest to you and heave, though nothing comes up. Guess those drinks really were kicking in.
Deep in your heart you know only two things to be true.
The first to be that no one in this world will ever care for you the way you tried so pathetical to care for them. And the second to be that deep in your heart, you hated them.
All of them.
Each and every one of them had gotten you killed. All of them had turned their back on you, leaving you to fend for yourself in the darkest pits of Gotham. Was there no love for poor little old you?
No.
There was no spot left in this worlds play for you to fill. Were you even real? If this time loop was forever, then what did it matter? You would just die and then return, only to die again and start all over.
The more your thoughts spiral the more you lose your grip on reality. Was this body even yours? Who were you? A simple extra who had gained awareness? Did you even have a life before this one?
You bring your hands up to touch your face, to feel all the smoothness it could and all the bumps that came with. This was your face. It had to be. Or else what was it all for?
Did you just die for nothing? Just because you came between this worlds protagonist and her happy ending? But then where the hell was your happy ending?! Do you just not deserve it??
No. No. You do. You deserve all the happiness this world has to offer. That's why...that's why you have to kill her. She is in your way.
You shakily reach your hands out to grab the letter opener and pull it out from the wall. Shit. You already fucked up in this life, didn't you? That fight sure isn't going to gain you any type of pity or empathy...should you just...
You set the opener down and throw yourself onto your bed. Thinking sucked, this entire place sucked. You probably shouldn't have even bought a house and Gotham.
You roll over and look at the ceiling, tears welling in your eyes as you mourn the person you were before all of this. It wasn't fair.
Uhhh yeah and that's all I've got for part one!! Tune in next time to see the rest of Readers spiral into insainity!!
No taglist this time because I got a new pc and I lost the list...whoops
this is part 3, the final part of the bruce wayne x neglected spouse reader. part 1 and part 2 can be found respectively!
> 3k words!!
this chapter makes the other two look like prologues 😭
thump, thump, thump, thump
jason could hear his heart beating within him. was it his heart? or was it his booming steps as he took fast strides across the manor, chasing after one of the only people in his life that made him feel real?
y/n was much faster than he thought. but what did he expect? years of their life was wasted. just like that. all because bruce just couldn’t manage to love the most loveable person on this earth. and for jason? he didn’t even get to blink. he didn’t get to process anything. all he knew was that he needed to be there for y/n. just like y/n was there for him.
”y/n…! please wait..!” jason hastened his steps, wanting to catch up to them. y/n skidded to a stop.
”jason, i promise i will see you again,” y/n turned to face the taller man, and reached a hand out towards him. “i’m sorry things turned out this way.” they caressed his cheek so tenderly, like a mother would do, doting on their child. the irony is that the ‘child’, jason, completely towers over y/n.
”…please stay for a while..” jason whispered, leaning into y/n’s tender touch. he let his posture fall completely, as if giving up.
”..i love you, jason. i love all of you.” y/n raised his other hand to cup both of jason’s cheeks and pulls him down to his height. jason lets y/n lead him down.
“you’re all free to visit me, and i will be sure to make time for you as well. i have your number, you have mine. this isn’t a goodbye for us. you know that, right?” jason and y/n were now head to head, with jason having to lean down in front of them. the position was a bit awkward, but its nothing jason won’t endure for them.
”..yeah. i know.”
y/n smiled for the first time today. “that’s my smart boy.” y/n kisses jason’s forehead before letting the taller man lean back.
.
.
time passed. too much time has passed. it’s been about a year since y/n had their divorce with bruce. they did their best to keep it on the down low, but gotham always finds a way to unearth everyone’s secrets.
when y/n had returned to the manor to take back the papers, they were surprised to see the gates swarmed with reporters and journalists, eager to get the latest scoop first. this divorce came as a huge shock to the general public.
“bruce and y/n were so in love? what happened”
”y/n was such a sweetheart, they didn’t deserve that bruce wayne. wasn’t he known for being a playboy? i bet he was unfaithful”
> “how could you say that? were you there when they divorced? they probably separated because of y/n.”
> “proof?”
> “i agree! i never understood why y/n married such a person. i wish they stayed with their old boyfriend. hal jordy or something.”
> “hal jordan!! they weren’t that public, but I agree. he was much better for y/n”
“y/n is finally free! i hope they continue their career that they dropped for marriage.”
> “what did y/n do again?”
> “y/n used to work as a paralegal at a company in metropolis. they were going to take the bar exam but bruce wayne got in the way.”
> “how did they went from metropolis to gotham??”
> “lol, apparently bruce wayne and y/n l/n were highschool sweethearts in gotham uni. they broke things off but started dating bruce again some time after they moved away.”
”brucie is finally free! hope i can get in his pants.”
> “true!!! they acted so lovey-dovey i was worried i lost my chance on that wayne weiner. i bet it was all just an act.”
as the media had their field day, so did the birds that were left in the batcave.
.
.
dick was doing okay. he did his best to contact y/n as much as he can. But with all the shit going down in bludhaven, batman, and just being a normal person in general- it takes a huge part of his energy to just wake up in the morning. he sometimes forgets to message y/n himself. y/n never forgets though. there was never a time in y/n’s life where they forgot anything about dick, their first son.
dick was tired. he wanted nothing but to just sleep away and make everything tomorrow’s problem. just as he was about to crash in his suit, his phone vibrated. someone had sent him a message.
dick smiles. there’s only one person who messages him at 4am in the morning, right when he stops becoming nightwing and starts being dick.
”dick, i know you haven't washed up. go change before you go to bed, okay?” he let out a small laugh. even when they weren’t legally related anymore, y/n still cared for him just as they did before. it was like nothing changed. but something did change. his smile slowly faltered. they shouldn’t have to be messaging like this through a phone. they should be doing this back home, at the manor. face to face.
dick sighed. is the manor even home anymore? when the person who made that place a home doesn’t live there?
”don’t fall asleep yet after you change. i ordered some food for you. it arrives in 10. eat well, dickie. goodnight.”
yeah. who needs a home when home isn’t even a place. dick was alone. it was only him in his apartment in bludhaven. away from anyone who he calls family or friends. but still, right now, he feels just at home.
.
jason had many regrets in his life. one of them is letting you go. call him selfish all you want. but he wants you around more than anyone in that manor.
y/n was the only person who ever defended him, even while he was gone. he parks his motorcycle on the side. and he steps out. he leans on a nearby building and just thinks.
he’s keeping watch around the area. he’s getting too agitated. he feels everything. he sees everything. he just wants y/n back. he lets out a long sigh. a memory enters his mind.
.
there was y/n. it was a rainy day. they were standing with a box in one hand. an umbrella in the other. they were standing in front of a grave. jason’s grave.
today marks jason’s 18th birthday if he was still alive. and he was. but he has yet to make that known. he watches in the shadows as y/n just stands there in front of his grave. it’s been hours. were they planning on staying there the entire day?
it didn’t take much research to know that y/n had been visiting jason whenever a special occasion came up. his birthday, y/n’s birthday, christmas, his death anniversary. any event you can think of, y/n would attend to jason’s grave after. this was y/n’s way of making him feel included. and his heart clenched. his chest was filled with warmth. someone still cared. someone still remembered. he wasn’t replaced. not by y/n. never y/n.
finally. y/n made their move. they bent down to gently place the box in front of jason’s grave. next to all the gifts that have collected over the years that jason was gone. each gift is proof that he was never forgotten.
when y/n left, jason slowly walked up to his grave. the rain poured over him, wetting his hair and obscuring his view a bit, but he didn’t let such a small thing deter him. he looked at the surrounding gifts, the flower arrangements, and the two lamps that illuminated his area, before finally looking at his placard.
In loving memory of Jason Todd.
xxxx to xxxx.
next to the placard was what looked like small stone plate. it had fallen over, probably due to the weather.
he picked it up and his breath hitched.
on the stone plate, it was engraved.
“son to y/n l/n”
jason was thankful for the rain. it hid his tears well, blending with the raindrops on his face. a simple recognition like this was enough to reduce him back to being a child. just a child who wanted the embrace of his parent.
he looked over at the gift y/n had just recently placed. he kneeled down, and placed the stone back back down properly. he lifted up the top part of the box.
from there, he could feel sobs come out his throat.
in the box was shirt of a band he loved back then. it was a hardcore rock band. one that kids his age definitely shouldn't have been listening to. but y/n promised that when he was older, they would take him to one of their concerts.
.
jason looked down at the very shirt he was wearing. the same shirt in his memories. it was worn, a bit tight on him, but he never stopped wearing it. he let out another sigh.
he was selfish. selfish to think y/n would stay. it was just right for y/n to go. it wasn’t right for them.
it’s time jason accepts that. y/n deserves better. better than bruce. better than him. as much as it hurts him, he has to let y/n go.
besides, y/n was still there. just not at the manor. jason tries to convince himself that it’s better this way. he doesn’t have a reason to go back to the manor anymore. that was his past. his future would be fine, as long as y/n was there for him. and for a moment, jason let the corners of his lips quirk up.
y/n has showed time and time again that they will always be there for jason, for them. that’s one thought he can trust in the raging sea of his thoughts.
.
.
tim felt lost for once. he had always been the one among his brothers who knew best. but this is an extremely big change that not even he is able process.
he understands the importance of contracts. it’s been his morning newspaper ever since he took up the role of being part of WE. he’s been one of the first to find out about bruce and y/n’s fake love. but did he pry? yes. did he ask? no. what went down went something like this.
.
tim ad successfully gotten batman to agree. he is robin now. but what tim didn’t expect was for y/n to be… a little cold. from what he knows, y/n was supposed to be kind and loving. so tim did what tim does best. he stalked. he went through every file he can. just to understand their arrangement. that day he was sloppy. he had left the bat-computer open.
y/n found out what he was doing and confronted him. tim came clean. he had expected anger. maybe something similar to what his parents would do back when he still stayed with them. but to his surpise..
”you can always just ask, tim. i don’t mind” y/n says as they closed some of the open tabs tim had left open.
tim wasn’t too sure about that. he had been very wary of y/n’s presence in the manor. shortly after he volunteered to become robin, the reception to his acceptance was sort of cold. he could recall the moment y/n’s eyes landed on him. the heartbreak, the pain, the anguish, it was all contained in their eyes.
for the first time in tim’s life, he was unsure. he knew why y/n acted that way. it was because of the other boy. jason. the boy before him. he remembered y/n gently urging him out the batcave. and as soon as the doors closed, he could faintly hear them yelling at bruce.
since then, tim took it upon himself to stay away.
”…why did you marry bruce if you don’t like him?” maybe for him, it was too naive. but he had to know.
y/n finally looked at tim. “he has a lot of money.”
”but you do too.”
y/n let out a laugh, “he used to make me happy.”
”used to?” tim questioned.
y/n nodded, “he used to be part of the happiest years of my life.”
”you’re talking in past tense. why would you stay for him?”
y/n ruffled his hair. “im not staying for him. not anymore.” y/n looks down, into the robin costume tim was wearing.
from there, tim understood.
”i hope you know what you’re doing. there mustn't be another accident. it shouldn’t happen again. it shouldn’t happen to you.” y/n sighed, keeping his eyes on tim.
from there, tim and y/n’s relationship only grew closer and closer.
.
im his bedroom, tim sighed, looking at an empty coffee mug on his desk. it was usually filled to the brim with joe.
after y/n had left the manor, all the improved habits y/n had helped him build came crashing all over. he went back to drinking coffee for water. counting ‘blinking’ as ‘sleep’. hell, he doesn’t remember the last time he laid down on his bed. just why did they have to leave?
oh, right. bruce.
tim looked at the coffee mug, debating whether or not he should fill it up. he looked at his computer, mentally contemplating how much work he had. after a self battle, he remembered y/n’s words to take breaks when he can. hm. he can do this for y/n. he reluctantly stood up from his seat, grabbing his phone with him before plopping onto his mattress.
as tim begins scrolling on his phone, he comes across a post from y/n. they have passed. the bar exam.
tim lifted himself up from the bed and smiled so widely before sharing the post to the family group chat without bruce. he let the notifications run, ignoring his siblings excited pings.
”congratulations y/n! i’m so happy for you.” it didn’t take long for y/n to respond.
”tim!! you should be sleeping!!!” tim scoffed, laughing lightly.
”but thank you. let’s go out and celebrate :))”
tim smiled. he missed this. their conversation didn’t stop until the sun trickled from the curtains.
.
.
for damian, it had been a punch in the gut. the league had taught him many things. one of those is to hide whatever he was feeling. emotions are reserved for very little occassions. then y/n came along and made him unlearn everything from the league.
he was distraught. but he was thankful. he had gotten a taste of what its like to be normal. his mother wasn’t too happy about it however.
he recalls his mother visiting, to challenge y/n. damian had tried to warn everyone, but he found himself being given the choice. let it happen, or he returns back to league. it was talia who gave the wayne’s guardianship over him. doesn’t matter if it was legal or not, she would revoke him from seeing them ever again if he disobeyed. and so, he kept silent.
when she arrived, y/n looked very visibly upset, but they took control of their emotions well. they urged everyone not to worry, and politely asked talia if they could talk in another room. everyone intervened, especially damian. but y/n was insistent.
damian didn’t know what happened in that room, but both his mother and y/n came out looking very happy. looks like y/n had won over his mother just as much as they have won over all of them.
he was satisfied. y/n is worthy. even mother acknowledges it. it doesn’t stop him from being scolded by y/n when talia left though.
”damian! how could you not say a thing..!” damian looked down. he could see his brothers snickering from their places.
damian opened his mouth, about to explain himself, “why didn’t you say anything, baby? if you were threatened your brothers- and bruce- would have done a number on them! what would have happened if talia wasn’t in such a good mood today..? i was so worried..!”
damian can only look at y/n in awe. they were worried for him? but they were the one being directly confronted by his mother just moments ago! damian felt like a child. but in a good way.
he felt pampered. he felt coddled. he felt safe. after y/n finishes rambling, he embraces y/n. his ten year old self can only reach up to hug y/n’s waist. he felt y/n stumble back in shock- but they were quick to melt in his embrace.
y/n kneeled to properly give damian a hug.
y/n was different. they weren’t talia, and they weren’t bruce. they were perfect.
they were his.
he can only blame himself for pushing y/n to leave. y/n texts daily. but nothing beats y/n being here.
.
damian promised y/n that they will see each other again. that moment has yet to come. he can only hope it happens soon.
.
“selina.” bruce acknowledges, still in his bat costume. mask somewhere in the room.
”hm. where is everybody else?”
bruce momentarily looked up from the bat-computer, before his focus returned, eyes locked on the screen.
”probably tired. give them time, they’ll come around.”
seline huffed. she knew they won’t. it’s been months since bruce formally introduced her as his girlfriend, and none of them have bothered to even look at her.
”a cat doesn’t wait forever, bruce.” she whined, wrapping her arms behind bruce.
he stiffened, before relaxing in her embrace.
she noticed it however.
but she doesn’t say anything. she would rather pretend that everything is okay just to stay with bruce. and for bruce? he chose this. he has to live with his choice. as much as he regrets his choice. his pride is too big for him to admit his own mistakes.
he lets selina do whatever she wants while he studies the screen.
.
“clark-! wait!” laughter filled the air as two figures were seen flying in the sky.
well, one figure was. the other was just clinging onto superman.
”having fun?” superman asked. he was clad in his super suit, the bright blue contrasting against the soft hues of the sky.
”-you jerk! i wasn’t ready!” y/n hit clark’s chest with a fist. it undoubtedly did nothing to the superhuman.
as the two lovers giggle away up high in the sky, the bats all wonder, ‘when will they see y/n again’?
turns out it was much sooner than they anticipated. after a year of only hearing from y/n on the phone, they finally see each other.
.
”so mr. kent, when will you finally interview metropolis’ most renowned lawyer?”
”well, i would love to! but i’m afraid there would be a conflict of interest?”
”how so?”
”well, i’m very interested in my partner!”
laughter filled the a small circle. it contained y/n, clark, and a few others who stroke up a conversation with them.
y/n l/n and clark kent. lawyer and journalist. the internet says they met through grad school, kept in touch, and met when y/n began working at the same company as clark- only in different departments. how romantic.
the batboys watched in excitement. it was y/n! the boys couldn’t wait to see them. but they knew they had all night to talk. they were just glad to see them again. though, it did take all of them to stop damian from stomping right over to take you away.
as for bruce? maybe he ate something bad that night. must be why he can’t seem to get rid of that grimace on his face. even with seline hanging on his arm.
“Here kitty kitty~” - platonic batfam x neglected black cat reader x spider man
Summary :: ever since you were taken in by Bruce Wayne, his tendency to collect things and quickly discard them when they showed no purpose or shared interest became clear to you. Lucky for you, you couldn’t care less when the lack of attention took eyes away from your little…hobby in New York
Things ;: wrong geography purely for the sake of canon please, maybe batfam ooc, reader is low-key cringey but free, reader is fem, reader and spiders relationship is more fanon than how black cat and spider are in the comics, implied sex
The living room one flight down from your room was lively, you could hear the residents of wayne manor busting and talking to one another, your invite had seemed to get lost in the mail between lips just like anything else in the house.
There were only so many times you could make excuses for their lack of attention, until you gave up all hope on them, but tonight you no longer roll in self pity, you had shit to do.
Zipping up your fur lined latex bodysuit you thought at the very first time you had a nightly activity of this kind. You were 16 and bored, but most of all dirt poor, how one might ask
"How is a child at wayne manor dirt poor" well lets say that a certain bat forgot to even set you up with a allowance in the first place, so you had to live off what little money your mom left to you and whatever you found around the house, which still wasn't enough for to the ever growing greed in your yet to be seen need.
So following after the very popular cat themed thief thief you planned out a simple house on a not so pleasant councilman member, the hustle overall went smoothly due to you having the full schematics of his house and the security layouts, it was a simple in and out job that was until your inspiration herself confronted you.
Instead of reporting you to bat man, just to be petty like you thought she was going to do, she just simply told you to get your own turf. And that you did, yes it was a bit far but what's 40 mins (30 if you pushed it) to new york.
In the new york scene you thrived, not worrying about the bats and birds (aka your family since they were the worst at keeping their voices down) and always the other villains in the city coming after you. In new york, you were simply a robin hood except you hated birds and you kept everything you stole.
It took as long as a month for you to get a proper costume, at first it was a simple black bodysuit and a lenless diamond mask in the matching black, that was until you upgraded to the current fur lined latex body suit you wore, that you had changed it because people were sizing you as a woman which largely annoyed you, that's also why you started to wear a white wig. You wanted to make sure you stood out more.
By month 3 you had official earned your villian name, the black cat—simple yes you were sastified with it. Also in that month you had officially met new yorks bryggest (well one of them) hero's, Spiderman. You had been in the middle of swiping some flash drive full of info from a tech company for a client (because you felt just stealing jewels had become pointless as some point.) when he had lowered himself slowly next to you.
"So who what are we doing?"
if you hadn't seen apex of his red and blue ass costume point arrlier you would have jumped 5 feet in the air with a scream, but instead you kept working for the flash drive.
"If it isn't the little spider, and you came here for lil ol' me?" your voice lined with a teasing tone that was bordering on flirtatious. "I thought you would have to go deal with one of these other actual threats, I'm just a harmless kitty" you pause as you finish your sentence and approach him more directly making the now standing spider man back up slightly.
"If you call stealing millions of dollars worth of stuff harmless, then the bar sure is low!!"
You could hear the plain sarcasm in his voice, entertaining as you hold your hands behind your back and continue your approach towards him and he continued to back up. Clearing his throat to regain some kind of control "You know you're gonna have to lose that bolt now?" you raise your eyebrow in amusement, perching side notes clearly never this. "aw, but then how would my client pay me? would be a shame if I showed up empty empty handed now would it?"
At this point you were circling the poor hero and him seemly flustered at your tone of voice, "If you leave the flash drive here, I will let you have at least 3 mins until the cops come to get a head start." You tilt your head and tap your chin with the USB side as if actually thinking about his offer, "How about I keep the flash drive and get a head start now..."
You perch in the open window you were discreetly moving towards the entire time "Sorry spidey, hope our next meeting is more exciting than this, but a kitty needs go, deuces!" using your grappling hook, you flew out the window into the night.
After that, you had more run in's with spiderman, many more actually, there were multiple times you guys had teamed up to face a bigger threat, or that time he had gotten a symbiote in himself, after all those times he tried again and again sorry and yes yes to became a full hero with him and you would always say the same thing "calling me a anti-hero is already pushing it and besides spidey, I'm a black cat—misfortune is my whole thing."
It's been a full year since you guys fully met and of course you knew more about him than he knew about you, you knew the man behind the mask and the mess—he had was your first name and your face with only the mask.
So it was a common thing during your encounters for him to say random last names to try and guess mostly getting the horribly wrong. He also knew you weren't native to new york when you two had fucked and the other time you brought him to your small base in gotham after you found him on the brink of death.
HIYA Y'ALL 👋🏾🤠... Ye ik I've been gone for a while n haven't updated n I'm finna do a whole other idea.. but let's just forget about dat... BTW IF YOU LIKE THE STORY IDEA N WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED LEMME KNOW..
OK SO IM THINKING.. instead of a neglected pregnant batfam daughter, why not a neglected pregnant mom..
Like Batmom had always been the quiet constant background noise in the manor—present, dependable, and easy to overlook when things got chaotic. Missions, injuries, arguments… the Batfamily was always moving, always loud in their own way. So when she started pulling away— not trying to fit in with kids, or act like a mom figure. They assumed she finally understood where she stood in their life. Just a woman Bruce married as a cover-
No one noticed the changes, not even the butler who noticed everything... especially when he thought she was only temporary. So when the exhaustion hit and she moved slower, protected her stomach, and disappeared for longer stretches, no one even paid attention but by then the time existed, it had already grown, lived, and breathed in secret.
She gave birth alone. Cradled them alone..
And she raised them alone.
Only the bundles of joy in arms could she call her home, her family..
A son and a daughter—twins, born from the tragic house hold who never saw her as nothing but a random lady who would soon leave. So the babies remained hidden away in a quiet, unused part of the manor. She turned that forgotten wing into a home. Soft blankets, small laughter, tiny footsteps echoing where silence used to be. For three, almost four years, she lived a completely separate life under the same roof as them. Close enough to hear their voices down the hall… but never close enough for them to truly see her.
It wasn’t until the day she was leaving that they finally noticed.
Packed bags. Two small children holding her hands. The air in the manor shifted—confusion first, then realization, then something heavier. Questions came too late. Shock hit harder when they saw the kids—how they looked at her, how she looked at them.. and how they looked exactly like Bruce Wayne.
And as the weight of their neglect settled in, so did the truth:
She hadn’t hidden the children.
They had simply never been paying enough attention to find them... (Maybe now it's their chance???) But will she allow it-?
