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Chapter one: Enter the Manor
Summary: The first few months of living in the manor and your impressions of the inhabitants. Word Count: 2805 Reading Time: 11:14 (mins:secs) Notes: Uh yeah this was meant to be maybe like 1000 words max. Oopsies đŹ. I thought Iâd do an honorable mention of @sitepathos and their series Gold to Mold bc while the influence may not be obvious, that story was one of my main influences to finally write the story in my head. Also any OOC behavior can be chalked up to the characters being emotionally inept (Bruce), not fully capable of raising a child thatâs not Robin (Bruce again), or deal with their own emotional baggage of not being Robin anymore (dick). Also itâs important to note that I do look through the interactions with my fic and block profiles that only use she/her or say âcis girlâ. The idea of being used as a tool for someone elseâs gratification makes me uncomfortable and this is my blog, I do what I want. No current release date for the second chapter, itâll get done when it gets done I guess.. đ€·ââïžđ Warnings: written in first person, talks of a young child (11) dealing with depression but the word isnât used. Aggressive behavior from an adult to a child, and neglect from a parental figure.
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The first week in the manor was actually rather.. nice. The car Alfred had taken you to the manor in was a shiny black, the interior coated in an oil-like black leather that made noise when you moved on it. Thereâd been a bag of fast food waiting for you in the back seat of the car when Alfred ushered you in. Youâd devoured the meal hastily- not out of any sort of food deprivation or malnutrition, but because it never seemed like you could sate your appetite. No matter what, you were always a little hungry, a little more ravenous than the other boys your age. Heâd talked sparingly as he drove, rarely talking his eyes off the road. It seemed like he understood. Unlike the cops and the foster families and the social workers, Alfred didnât say âIâm sorryâ or âthat must hurtâ. He didnât really say anything about it at all.Â
Heâd asked you what your favorite color was, what style of decoration youâd want for your room, if you enjoyed your current clothes and style or if youâd rather have something else, and other similar questions. It was slow going, moving your mouth to form answers. Since the house fire, youâd grown to be unlike your past self, retracting into your shell like a snail, and barely speaking unless absolutely necessary. He didnât seem to mind silence, though. It made a knot in your shoulders, that you never noticed, come loose.
The ride wasnât very long, or maybe it was, you didnât pay much attention to the time. It didnât feel like a long ride. Youâd spent the majority of it resting your head on the car door and staring out the window, watching buildings and trees pass by. The squat, brick buildings of mom-and-pop businesses of the town youâd been moved to gradually gave way to towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, although that eventually fell away to a thinned forest and big houses that stood proud among manicured lawns. The houses faded away too, leaving miles of sprawling woods the only thing to look at. Watching the trees pass by was a rather calming experience, your heartbeat slow and steady in your chest. You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling that ever-present heat under your skin settle, like a cat laying in the sun. It never left, like a permanent fever, but it could calm down, it could go dormant for the moment.Â
The car rolled to a stop and you opened your eyes. A mansion stood alone in the middle of the woods, a driveway leading up to it and ending in a roundabout with a fountain in the middle. The front of the house was framed by well-loved hedges and flower beds which bloomed with brilliant white and red flowers. The house- mansion- itself was a deep red brick, the stone worn by weather, and framed by snow-white columns of marble. It was imposing, looming over the surrounding trees. Alfred stepped out of the car and moved around to the side, opening the door for you.
âMaster yn, we have arrived.â He said with that same kind, elegant manner heâd greeted you with, back at the social workerâs office.Â
As you climbed out of the car, Alfred moved back to the trunk and opened it, grabbing your singular bag of belongings before closing the trunk. He walked to the pristine marble stairs that led up to the tall mahogany doors, the gravel crunching under his shiny black shoes. You followed loosely behind him, looking around at the outside of the house. The thought hadnât quite managed to break through the fog that always seemed to cloud your mind nowadays, but it suddenly dawned on you that this isnât exactly a normal foster family. You hurried to the door when Alfred held it open for you, stopping only for a moment to glance down at the outdoor mat resting outside the door. It was black with a gold logo printed onto it; the logo looked like a highly stylized W with an E beside it. An unsettled feeling rested in your stomach at the sight of it and you couldnât quite grasp why.Â
Entering the mansion, you were struck with the smell of cleaner and, very faintly, cologne. It smelled like an expensive store, the kind of place you and your mom would walk past on the way to your usual shopping area. The entryway had an open doorway that offered a small glimpse into the rest of the manor. A grand staircase ran down the side of the wall, the room entirely lit by a chandelier hanging from the high vaulted ceiling. Alfred moves past you, closing the door behind you both, and talks while gesturing for you to follow him up the grand staircase.
Heâd taken you down a long hall that was lined with closed doors, explaining where everything was located whilst walking.
âNow, Master Bruceâs bedroom is.. further down the hall.â
You mustâve given him a curious look as you both arrived at your new room. Alfred opened the door for you, allowing you to enter in front of him.
âHe wishes to give you space during this time.â
Your stomach churned at those words. They were perfectly designed, like what a PR team would tell their talent to say after screwing up massively. It left a sour taste in your mouth and you couldnât quite meet Alfredâs gaze after hearing that. You looked around the room as Alfred set down your bag on the bed. It was much larger than anywhere youâd lived before, considering both foster homes and your real home.Â
Despite the size, though, the room was bare of any decoration. A single twin bed laid under the brightness of the single window in the room, only blinds blocking the sunlight. Along the far right wall stood a sturdy wooden dresser and mirror. The walls were a blank white wallpaper and the floor was the same shiny deep-colored wood as the hallway outside. There was no side table for the bed, no carpet despite how cold the floor would definitely get, no posters or paintings, just the bare necessities. It was the picture of utilitarian. Alfred spoke up, clearing his throat as if he was embarrassed.
âUnfortunately, we were unable to source more furniture before your arrival.â He said with the same elegance as everything else heâd said, despite his expression figuratively shouting how upset he was about what he was saying.Â
It intrigued you more than it shouldâve. You shrugged and went to the window, pulling down one of the blinds to look outside.
âItâs fine.â
Itâs not. You didnât turn to look back at Alfred as you spoke, nor did you look back when you heard his fancy dress shoes shuffle against the floor. You heard the door creak.
âIâll let you settle in, sir.â
You heard the door shut behind Alfred as he left. The minute you were alone, you fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling.Â
The first few weeks had been rather boring, admittedly. Youâd often stay in your room for days at a time, only wandering out to explore the house when you got bored of staring at the ceiling. Youâd stroll up and down the halls, discovering the library, the private study that Bruce Wayne used, the various staff quarters, and more guest bedrooms than you thought was possible. None of it really excited you, though. A numbness had invaded your mind and made you into a living ghost, something human in name only. You no longer looked in mirrors and spoke very little, if at all. Not like there were very many people to talk to.
Bruce Wayne was as elusive as rain in the desert. He flitted about the manor, only ever coming home very late at night and leaving in the morning. You didnât really want to know what he was doing so late in the evening, but you figured youâd find out about it someday. Secrets between you and your mom didnât last very long, so most family secrets should be the same.Â
The very few times you interacted with Bruce Wayne, he seemed distracted or discomforted by your presence, like he was seeing your mother, not you. If you happened to be in the kitchen when he came in, heâd stare at you for a long moment before attempting some sort of small talk. When you didnât respond, heâd just leave. After the first three days, he avoided you completely. Maybe it was because you were both orphans or maybe there was just something unsettling about you, but Bruce Wayne didnât want you in his house. Maybe he saw the same in-humanness that the foster families saw. Whatever was wrong with you was palpable, apparently.
Bruce Wayne wasnât the only person in the manor who avoided you.Â
Richard Grayson was, according to google, an orphan Bruce Wayne took in. Grayson didnât care for your presence either. He was eighteen and seemed to be genuinely disgusted by you. Maybe he saw something too. Or maybe he was just a dick. The first incident with Grayson happened not too long after you moved in. Youâd been wandering towards the direction of the kitchen when the front door burst open. Heâd stood in the doorway, framed by the light around him, like an action figure in a commercial, all stoic and proud. You stopped to look at him and he looked back, like two animals spooked by the otherâs existence. Heâd scowled and glared down at you, crossing his arms as he approached. The rude dick left the door open behind him.Â
âWhat are you, another one of Bruceâs new bratty orphans?â His words dripped with anger and annoyance, like you were ruining something just by the virtue of being here. He scoffed before you could even respond and stomped off.Â
Luckily for you, though, Grayson didnât live in the manor. He had his own apartment heâd disappear to for weeks. It was bliss, not having him around constantly. Living with Bruce Wayne already had your blood pressure high and your fuse short, but having someone as outright about their dislike of you- over something that you didnât even understand- that made your blood boil. You had to physically stop yourself from launching yourself at Grayson every time he looked at you like you were a cockroach.Â
But there were redeeming inhabitants in the manor. One of which was Alfred. He never forced you to talk if you didnât feel like it, which you often didnât. When you crawled out of your room for food once a day, heâd prepare a meal for you whilst telling you a story. You enjoyed his stories; the stories reminded you of your mother.
âOnce, when I was in the SAS,â Heâd begin, chopping vegetables into fine little cubes and tossing them into a pan. Heâd grab fresh herbs from somewhere and begin chopping those as well.
âThere were two new recruits.â He focused on what he was doing as you rested your head on your palm and stood leaning on the dinner table. âAnd they thought they were just the sneakiest men in the platoon.â
Once the herbs were diced, heâd add them to the sizzling pan, and stir the concoction. The action sent a flurry of floral scents in the air, filling the kitchen with an inviting aroma.Â
Alfred continued whilst stirring the contents of the pan. âSo the rest of us had dared them; said âif youâre really that good at sneaking around, then sneak up to one of the rabbits on base and put a ribbon on it.ââ
âAnd by god, they did.â Alfred chuckled to himself as he turned off the burner and continued to stir, reaching over to the spice rack and picking out multiple bottles and sprinkling the contents into the pan. âThey snuck out of the barracks that night and went out into the woods without any of us knowing.â
He gestured for you to sit at the bar and grabbed a plate from a cabinet, snatching a fork from an adjacent drawer. âBy the time we all woke up and began our own duties, there were about twelve rabbits running around the base with little ribbon bow ties tied around their necks!â
Laughing softly to himself, Alfred scooped out the cooked vegetable stir-fry onto the plate and brought it over to you along with the fork. Heâd sat with you as you ate, talking about other stories from his time in the SAS and his time working for Martha and Thomas Wayne. His genuine kindness made it almost worth it to be living in the manor.
The other inhabitant who didn't mind you being in the manor- and even seemed to like you being around- was Jason Todd. Youâd met him while wandering around the manor like you often did. Youâd just found the library for the first time when he popped up out of nowhere, appearing from behind a plush seat like a character from a horror movie. Heâd bounded over to you like an excited puppy and began speaking a mile a minute. At first heâd put on this hyper-masculine deep voice that didnât match his face or his age at all.
âHey! Who are you?â Heâd looked down his nose at you and you quickly realized that he, despite already being the same height as you, had stood on his tiptoes specifically so he could look down his nose at you.Â
Fixing him with the same blank stare youâd used on everyone, you answered simply. That numbness youâd grown accustomed to made it hard to put energy into your voice. â(Y/N).â
He blinked once, then twice, and then the facade broke. His voice softened into what you assumed was its normal state and he slowly lowered himself to his usual height. Tilting this way and that, he examined you with an almost-suspicious expression.Â
âOh.â He suddenly light up with recognition. âYou must be the other kid B took in. Iâm Jason.â He pointed to himself with a prideful smile. âHow come I havenât seen you around?â The question was innocently curious, only prying on accident.Â
You stared blankly, no response leaving your lips as you stood still. He tilted his head and frowned, shrugging as he looked away, feigning disinterest.
âStrong and silent type, huh?â He nodded to himself as he said the words, still looking at some random book on the bookshelf. âI can work with that.â
And he did.
Jasonâs friendship was unlike your relationship with Alfred. In the fogginess of apathy- depression, you realized- he cut through the clouds like a lighthouse. Heâd follow you around when you left your room, finding you every time like he had a compass implanted in his head or something, and it exclusively led to you. Youâd be just wandering, sometimes taking paths you already walked before, sometimes carving completely new wear patterns in the carpet, and heâd sidle right up next to you and begin talking.
Just like Alfred, he did the talking for the two of you, but he was different. Jason would pause occasionally after cracking a joke, glancing at you to see if you laughed, smiling if he saw you reacted at all. It was like he understood you in a way Alfred didnât, like heâd been in your shoes before. Sometimes while walking through the halls of the manor, heâd take your hand and lead you to some unspecified place. Occasionally it was the library, but most of the time it was places youâd never gone before, like the rooftop, the garden, and the theater room.Â
Eventually, you learned through his one-sided conversations that Jason was only two years older than you at 13, and that heâd lived in crime alley. You didnât really know where that was, but it sounded like a rough place to live. After a few months of being Jasonâs unofficial sidekick, you began talking again. He never made a big deal out of it, but you could see his eyes light up when he finally got a response, even if they were one-worded at best. Heâd cracked the hardened shell of emptiness that formed around your heart. The constant rejection by Wayne and Grayson didnât help, neither did the gentle approach from Alfred, if you were being honest, but Jason had cracked it. Heâd pulled you out of a ship you didnât know had already sunk. And the first embers of happiness began to spark up again once more, even if it was faint. For the first time in a really long time, you had a friend.
And you had all the time in the world to get to know each other better.Â
Prologue: House Fire
Summary: A look back in your memories of a simpler time, and how it stopped being so simple. Word Count: 1463 Reading Time: 6:09 (mins:secs) Notes: I've wanted to write a batfam fic for a while but couldn't think of an interesting spin for the reader, that is until I read a oneshot about an Ice! meta reader that I can't seem to find again (đ) and my third eye opened. This reader is low-key inspired by an oc of mine, who I actually have a pinterest board for, but I've done my best to keep y/n fairly blank for people to project onto. It may or may not come up later in the story (haven't decided) but I'm imagining y/n as a trans man and as an unreliable narrator with memory issues so. First chapter is queued to go up in a week! Warnings: written in first person, anger issues (on reader's side), descriptions of a parent dying, lots of mentions of fire, reader being tossed around in the foster system. Please comment if you think I've missed a warning!
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Rage burned under your skin constantly. When you were young, still kind and innocent, it was easier to control, it didnât burn quite as hot. You still had a temper- your mother would end up dragging you home from school after many arguments on the playground getting too loud, but it never felt so much like drowning before.Â
You were never certain of where your rage came from until an event when you were seven. The memory, clear as glass, would replay every night for that week. Whilst playing in the front yard, you had noticed a car pull up. It was shiny and silver, that you remembered. But the woman who exited the car was more blurred by time degrading the memory. Sheâd smiled at you as she walked up to the front door, knocking politely without acknowledging you any more. Sheâd excitedly talked to your mother, giving your mom a piece of paper before your mother blew up. Youâd never seen her so angry before. Sheâd screamed at the woman, scaring her into running back to her shiny car.Â
The woman had driven off in a frenzy, the wheels kicking up dead leaves which showered over you in a confetti spray of autumn colors. Your mom had walked over and scooped you into a tight hug before pulling you inside. You didnât play outside alone much after that. Your childhood had been normal beyond the odd moments like that.
You used to get ice cream with your mom after a particularly hard day at school, walking in the park as you shared a styrofoam bowl of slowly melting ice cream with her. You held onto that memory with an iron grip. Sheâd also take you to various garage sales and thrift stores, allowing you to buy the occasional toy or plushie every once in a while. It was only when you were older that you realized how tight of a budget you two had been on. You donât worry about money much anymore. Maybe to someone whoâd grown up richer your childhood sounded awful, but to you it was the golden years of your life. Youâd never realized how much you valued your life in your small city with your mom, living in your tiny house at the edge of the city limits, until it was suddenly ripped away.
Youâd been sitting in class, scribbling away at the margins of your notebook as the teacher droned on and on. Math was your least favorite subject since the teacher had the most monotonous voice ever. Youâd only glanced out the window for a moment, staring at the birds in the trees, when the teacher was interrupted by a knock at the door. You watched as your math teacher walked to the door and opened it for an officer. Something like this would usually become the talk of the lunch period, concerned hushed voices slowly graduating into whispery gossiping over the course of a meal. So youâd watched intently as the officer spoke in a low, almost inaudible, tone to the teacher, who turned and locked eyes with you specifically. Your heart began to race as your teacher gestured for you- not another student, not anyone else- to come over. Your heartbeat had pounded in your ears as you got up, already hearing the concerned âwhatâs going onâs and âis everything okayâs from your classmates. Your teacher had an expression on their face that you couldnât quite grasp in the moment. Later on, however, youâd later categorize it as something between sorrow and despair. It wasnât the last time you saw that expression that day.
The officer had gently guided you into the hall where an administrator was waiting. Your worry shapeshifted into nervousness. You couldnât remember doing anything horrible thatâd warrant a police officer being there. Nervous that youâd be expelled over something you couldnât remember, you began rambling apologies to the administrator, grasping at every single wrong thing you could remember doing. The man had just smiled and looked down at you with something akin to pity- the memory of that pitying expression made your skin crawl- and stopped your rambling with a single gesture. Then, the cop spoke. And the world youâd known shattered into bits.
The words came in bits and pieces as your brain struggled to adjust to this new reality youâd been thrown into.Â
Your mother. House fire. The cop was sorry.
That was the thing that always stuck out to you. The apologies from people; as if theyâd been the ones to start the fire. It still felt like molten sugar on a burn wound when people responded with âIâm so sorry for your lossâ, even so many years later. It seemed like this one tragedy had suddenly changed everyoneâs perception of you, reshaping you into the poor boy who was orphaned at the age of 11.Â
That week (maybe it was a month, the specifics were hazy) turned into a blur as the world seemed to spin faster and faster around you. Suddenly, you were pulled from school and talking to social workers who had their own shiny cars, you were passed from adult to adult in a frantic bid for control over the situation your small cityâs government found itself in. You remembered dizzy days in a guidance counselorâs office, then being rushed to a group home, then to a foster family, then another foster family further away, and again and again. Each time you were re-homed like a bad gift, you found yourself further and further from your little home town youâd loved. You donât remember anything beyond the crushing weight of your mother being gone.
The only clear memory you have of that time was when a foster family took pity on you and drove you back home, to town. They brought you to the burnt-out remains of your old home. Neither member of the couple could hold you back when you ran towards the charred skeleton of the house. You remember crying and sobbing as hands pulled you away from the remains of the house, your own hands tightly grasping the one thing youâd managed to grab- a small book. Youâd been shoved back into the car whilst hugging the book to your chest. Later, when youâd managed the courage to read that plain black book, youâd found that it was your motherâs journal.Â
Maybe it was the fact that things had slowed to a more comprehensible speed, or maybe it was because you had something of your motherâs now, but you remembered more from this time period. In fact, you even remembered the foster family youâd been staying with when it happened. They were a sweet couple with a daughter not much younger than you. Theyâd given you your space, acting unsure and awkward whenever they interacted with you. Theyâd almost seemed relieved when the social worker came to retrieve you once again, as if having a grieving little boy in their house was equivalent to living with a nuclear bomb. The social worker didnât need to prompt you at all to gather up your very few belongings and get in her car. Youâd leaned your head against the window as she talked about your new home, barely paying attention. Sheâd talked about how âtheyâ (you didnât remember who âtheyâ were. Maybe it was the police) had tried to find your father but had been unable, until he came forward himself. That deep anger flared up, flames licking at the bones of your rib cage as you kept it in. So he waltzes out of your life before youâre even born, ignores your existence for 11 whole years, and then struts back in as if nothing happened? The thought made you want to hit something. Someone. It made you want to hurt him. Youâd clenched your fist and gritted your teeth as you tuned out the rest of the social workerâs speech.
Then, sooner than youâd wanted, you were in a hallway in one of the many community centers youâd been in, standing across from an elderly man wearing a suit. The fire that made you want to scream and bite and claw like a feral dog was quenched for a minute. Surely this couldnât be your father, he was far too old. You couldnât punch him- heâd fall over and die! You simply stood still as the man walked forward and gave a little bow. His voice was posh and his accent was clearly British, not unlike the period dramas your mom used to watch.Â
âYou, young man, must be (Y/N). Pleasure to meet you, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.â
Heâd never know, but with that simple introduction, Alfred Pennyworth changed your world a second time.
Its the most infuriating experience to scroll through a tag with all your custom filters in place only to still encounter untagged x fem reader fics.
Y'all it is not that hard to add one word to your tag salad.
"x reader" does not mean "female reader" by default.
At least let people who don't want to read x fem reader have the choice to not read it. By not tagging it, you're taking away that choice.
Batfam Ă Neglected Reader( artist )!
SYPNOSIS: Your only escape from your cruel life is in your own hands.
WARNING: Not for sensetive people! Have several triggers.
Time flew fast and things chance it was simply normal for the earth to continue orbiting it's sun until it's gone.
It was normal for a father to forget one of his children and favour the rest.
It was normal to be forgotten but it's hard to be forgotten and making it obvious you are no longer welcomed in their home.. your home.
Taken by him after seeing your pathetic self and taking pitty he brought you home in his arms as your rested. Like a baby bird nesting with it's mother.
The first time you got to rest, in the arms of an unknown man that took you in his arms with the warmth of father.
It was dangerous to be at mercy so quickly but you were just a kid, tired, dirty and who missed any physical touch. Deprived of others and normality.
You could still remember it so vividly.
You were sitting by the wooden bed scaring away the bugs and pests especially the rats.
You were hungry but didn't dare to move away, scared that they would began festing on your poor mother who haven't woken up in weeks.
The stench could turn anyone stomach into a mush of green yet your loves for your mother stood stronger. Ignoring the stench as you fought off rats and bugs.
Then he came, look at your pathetic state and convince you to stay with him, as you let go of your mothers cold hand's for the first time.
His knees was on the floor as he hug you tight, his arms wrap around your smaller frame like a father meeting their child after a long time a long and hard time.
You remembered his wonderful word that sent you to another life you've never dreamt of.
"You'll be my daughter from today... I won't leave you cold, you'll have a father..."
He himself didn't knew what came over him when he saw you, to speak so unlikely of himself to do. But his mouth moves without any warning and he embrace you.
But now that fatherly embrace and warmth was for someone else... his affection and words didn't last long with you.
He used to read you bedtime story but now he rarely speak to you directly instead he would rather stay at his son bedroom when he's asleep to check on him.
You weren't his priority anymore, your privilege of having a father rip out form your own hands before you could even enjoy it longer.
Even the eldest Dick who was very enthusiastic to meet you acted like you weren't a living breathing person.
Everyday you texted him, updating him on anything because you just wanted to talk, you've never had anyone to talk to never.
You couldn't speak at times because of all the time you shut your mouth while crying so your mother could rest in peace, the countless days you spent covering your mouth so she won't be disturbed.
Forcing yourself to not speak made you hard at speech at times, but talking to him your older brother felt natural and you liked it. He helped you reach your potential yet he left you at the edge by yourself.
You've tried reaching for his hands for him to listen to your voice hoping that he might turn back and everything will he normal again. Your difficulty in speaking only increase when he harshly push you aside.
"You shouldn't be this clingy and desperate, you're not a baby anymore and it's annoying not adorable"
His words simple yet did something weird inside your heart, this wasn't the older brother you've always idolise... He's simple grown tired of you as usual.
You two had something special a bond that you only read about it in novels.. But now he doesn't even seem to recognise your face.
Busy with the new kid as well, who was cocky and full of himself and mean. You didn't understand why they wanted to bond with him so bad for.
You've tried so hard to be likeable and for this new demon to come out of nowhere and to be better? That isn't fair.
He didn't try his hardest to fit in with everything while you did everything to be likeable, you hate the idea of being forgotten when you are already addicted to the taste of being wanted.
You've never had anything great and this kid had something already and he's greedily taking yours, infront of your eyes and unable to do anything.
Now that everything was slowly rotting infront of your eyes you couldn't handle it. Your only escape from the true world was your own art.
"Dick? Are you busy?"
you asked wanting to invite him for a hangout which you've never had in years.
Honestly the only time you even managed to have a word with him was when he was with someone else and they weren't talking, other than that he wasn't around.
Not to see you, not to talk to you and not even when you were crying at nights due to pressure and your poor health yet he never came for you.
Your first ever solution of comfort broke into pieces and taken by another face, you were jealous of course but you couldn't do anything but to watch.
"Me and Damian are going to the museum, I'll be busy"
He wasn't even looking at you, just staring at his phone typing whatever nonsense and it broke you genuinely.
"Could you call him? Im really excited to spend times with my little brother, they're growing so fast better take advantage"
He obviously doesn't see you as a younger sibling anymore, if it wasn't Damian it would be Tim or annoying Jason.
He always went out with him, never you. He acted like you had no feelings nor needs and it's unfair.
Isolation from the world was your only hope in slowing down the damage.
Your family that once loves you now replaced you with another face, that kept you wondering if you ever meant a thing... Was loving you simply a phase?
Is loving you so hard? You weren't extraordinary or anything according to yourself atleast. You've restrained your weird behaviour so they won't be weirded out yet that doesn't mean anything.
your hands are cramping from holding onto the pencil hard, you couldn't careless.
Your tears soaking the paper as you continue drawing, everything ache so badly and you wanted it gone.
Then suddenly a drop of red fell on your drawing ruining it, you sigh heavily.
Your nose was bleeding slowly, the blood dropping onto the white sheet as it got absorbed by it with poor efforts.
Your eyes felt heavy but you didn't complain just looking up as the blood still trickle down onto the sides of your face.
The drawing of Bruce, your supposed father. You have drawn the way you had remembered how you first saw him, that gentle smile and the best hug ever... How come time change people so much?
You tried to wipe the blood to no avail it soak through and smeared the blood all over his face, you turn the next page to saw that your other drawing weren't save either.
The drawing of everyone of them soaked with your blood, you almost cried because that was days of work down the drain because your stupid nose decided to bleed.
"Fucking God... Why me"
You muttered, closing the note at the verge of bursting into tears. Then suddenly something sharp hit you.
Your stomach is tearing itself, that what's it felt like atleast.
You haven't eaten well, Alfred already fed him more leaving you with less portions, always cleaning after him leaving you in the dark alone and scared.
You didn't understand why you weren't allowed basic needs.
Is it because im terrible? I've never done much, I've tried so hard to be good yet they always find a reason... to make me wish myself death.
Nothing satisfied them. Your outstanding scores you achieve with several lack of sleep that resulted into sleep paralysis every tine you slept, you've told dick about it he told you that... it was nothing compared to damian.
There again, always mentioning the slob even when it's about you, clearly nothing in this house is ever about you. You're just the adorable child for three years, easily replaceable.
Right everything you did was just behind him no matter what, no one could celebrate you without bringing him into the conversation... He was your shadow, always mentioned and speak more favourable of.
You tried so hard to not hate or be jealous but something inside of you just want him gone. Away from your family... It's a horrifying thought but your heart couldn't think of anything else better for you.
You clutch onto your stomach as you whimper in pain, you couldn't tell if it was hunger or a normal ache.
Everyone else could be sick except you, cause the moment you utter your sickness everything was always about you right.
"Im feeling unwell, my stomach is hurting..."
You told Alfred alone in the kitchen while he wash the dishes.
You've been ignoring the pain that makes eating unbearable, the feeling of food still in your intestine yet felt undigested...
"Master, you are aware that I am quite occupied as of now?"
His voice hold the same gentleness or you couldn't hear it because of the pain, the underlying annoyance.
"Alfred please, it's been like this son-"
"Master do I have to remind you that you aren't the one with bad illness constantly?"
You stood there shock, you didn't understand why he would even mentioned that... You just felt sick. You didn't mean to... Do anything bad.
"I-"
"You cannot bother or try to attract attention this way Master, those with serious illness are envious of your state yet you perform their greatest weakness... Do behaviour Master"
You were utterly shock, wanted to cry bit nothing even bother to roll out.
You stood there frozen, trying to understand what you said wrong to always be the troubled one...
"Im sorry?"
You didn't know what to do or feel. Sad because he didn't even listen or doubt... maybe he was right.
You don't speak of your illness you can't. Nobody listen, they never do.
Even starvation felt better than being ignored by the people you cared for...
Everyday you wome up you couldn't help but always think of Damian.
How Jason spent more time with him and let's not forget Jason hated your gut from the beginning.
Still to this day while he went easier on Tim towards you? He's an absolute devil on earth ro torment you.
Tim is too busy to acknowledge you as a person, he doesn't even remember your names... Just talked to you to make him some coffe and complain everytime you made them.
"It's too sweet, are you trying to poison me?"
You couldn't tell if he was joking or not, he seems serious his gaze right at yours his brows focus.
"Can't you be useful for anything?"
Alright, you understood your value.
"If you have no use then you shouldn't even be here... I don't need a complete slot as my sibling"
He seems pissed off now, you blamed it on the lack of sleep and over working himself. He wouldn't speak to you like that, right?
"Damian?"
You called his name, abit nervous he did texted you to come outside into the backyard...
He was burning something's, seems like a cramping set-up.
A big smile spread onto your face as you walk closer. Is your wish coming through, did pne of your family members finally remembered you were apart of their family?
So many questions yet no answers, he was smiling as well with a book on his hand's reading.
When you came closer and look at the fuel pf the fire it looks like books- drawing books.
Your face went pale, he threw the book he was holding into the fire you saw the cover... a pink and blue imagine, the same one Bruce gave to you on your first birthday...
You went straight for the fire, not caring how much it hurt.
He was burning your drawing books, every one of them as he watch in horror as you reach into the fire and tried to took them out.
Your hands were burning yet you didn't stop, some note contains pictures of your mother the one you have drawn tons of times to remember... You CANNOT lose them...
The skin on your hand was melting yet you didn't stop, reach inside the fire embracing it and taking the burning note out as hot tears stream down your cheeks.
"No! no no no... Please no, not this- I can't... No..."
You couldn't think straight, the pain the high emotions you were feelings and the thought of losing you mother drawing...
Damian pulled you away from the fire after he saw you reaching in without caring about the fact that your skin was melting off.
"You dumb-ass! Are you trying to intentionally kill yourself infront of me for silly books you've kept away!?"
He yelled at you furious, not because you've hurt yourself to salvage the damage he has cause because he will be in trouble now that you burnt your hands.
"No! Let go, it's still doable! I won't let you take everything from me... It's not fair!"
You scream struggle and even hit him hard for him to let you go, those silly books were everything.
You memories, the mouth when you couldn't express, the feelings you've felt you couldn't tell anyone, the image of another you with the whole family... Everything.
You've kept them hidden for a reason, browsing through each of them whenever life was killing you again.
Everyone have gone out to witness what was going on and obviously the moment they saw the red on Damian face they went off on you.
Ignoring the blood and skin that was all over the place, Damian seems shocked as well. You couldn't stop the tears and your heart from ripping itself.
"It's just some drawings books... I can always buy another, you do not need to hit your brother"
He doesn't understand the value it hold, the new one would be soul less and no love... it couldn't compare.
"You just wanted to hit Damian cause you are helping because you are a spoiled brat that cannot go without attention"
"They shouldn't be here... They only caust trouble for us"
"This is utterly unacceptable Master Bruce, this is a behaviour of a child with no decipline"
Your books were gone... You were sent to your room and Damian was being taken care of... Well they bandage your hands but Damian was still being cared for but much longer..
You tried to draw but you couldn't, the pain was all over the place after the adrenaline wear off.
You couldn't draw... You're dead. You are no longer important, you are to be dead.
You covered your face with your hands as panick sets in, your only escape from everything was gone...
Now you truly are over.
"No... I am dead"
You utter quietly, ever since Damian came into the picture your only superiority was drawing... He was good but not as much as you, afterall you practice till you puke.
Your only talent that surpress the love child... Was now gone, it would be the same thing as dying if you couldn't even be of use now...
Bruce who decided to check up on you to discuss about your behaviour and maybe sending you away came inside.
"We need to talk, your action towards Damian is un-"
He stood frozen, your door creaking as it open further. His blood went cold and the word left his mouth completely.
Your body on the ground with foam seeping out of your mouth, your eyes wide open as a bottle was on your hands.
The same pills he have given to you to ease your stomachache, the one he didn't tell you anything about or how to ingest them... He didn't wanted to waste him time talking about that with you.
Next to you was a paper, a drawing... The mast thing you drew a butterfly with incomplete wings, it was messy and it felt like it was drawn by a young child.
Bruce remembered now... He remembered your soft small hands on his as you would smile at him brightly speaking nonsense.
"I like butterflies, they're free to do whatever... When I die I want to be one! Dad I promise to always visit you if I became one!"
Today was the day you've met him... The day he opened his arms so willingly for a stray he's just met...
What have he done?
- Love Me, Please.
Yandere Batfam Ă Neglected Reader.
SYPNOSIS: They don't treat you like a living person.
IMP: Sad shit, implied SA ( slight description),
Ever since your arrival at the manor something was always off, the lack of acknowledgement and the rare conversation you managed to squeeze out.
You never got along with anyone, they didn't even prepare a warm welcoming just showed you your room and nothing else. They acted like you had been the one to force yourself in.
You weren't involved in any inside joke, Dick treated you like a guest that would get out soon.
He tried to be nice but sometimes he just couldn't smile at you, talking about moving out when you weren't even a teen and the way he told everyone that you two weren't related hurt.
He was ashame to have any relation with you.
The way they smiled with eachother while you sit at the conner nothing but darkness surrounding you. Yet you kept quiet.
How you were just the block to fill in the family and nothing more.
Everyone ignored you, even Alfred. Your plate was always forgotten, your birthday was non-existent and even you don't seem to be real.
The only reason you knew that you weren't invisible was because of the way they would stare, the way they talked to you and how they treated you like a guest.
Bruce had enough time to reflect on his bad parenting skills but not enough to look at your face or came to your graduation.
You stood there alone and embarrassed, the announcer who kept repeating his name seems to be lost as well.
Everyone else eyes glued onto you, their parents by their side. You didn't cry or throw any word to him... You shut your mouth as usual.
You stood there on the stage by yourself, nobody to protect you, while everyone else gave their proud parents by their side, yet you tried making excuses in your head.
It's the only medicine that made it hurt less. To make excuses for them and next time they'd be better, you knew the truth but being pretending hurt less.
He wouldn't listen he never did, he haven't remembered your age, didn't knew you truly just one of the many mouth he had to fed, a passing responsibility... Anything but his daughter.
The way everybody get to celebrate together yet you had to sit slone staring at the ghost of your family. Their word's stung your heart.
To them Bruce was a great father and they easily made excuse for the reason why he didn't showed up. Afterall he was a great man.
You must be a terrific child for a father like Bruce to forget about or he was busy and would definitely made it up to you.
You couldn't help but wanted to hurt the others for having such relationships with their father, they were loved, acknowledge and understood and you had the the shadow of your father while your siblings get to enjoy him as a whole.
You tried so hard to never let it get to you but it's hard to forget when their cold and unbothered behaviour have a huge scar on you.
It's hard to watch, seeing him crouch down as he lays his hands on Damian shoulder, trying to lecture him gently yet firm like a father.
His soft smile reminded you of a father that was trying his best, not for you but for everyone else.
He wouldn't look or touch you, only left some comments when you did something bad. Not even a lecture just 'dont repeat'... You just wish that he would atleast lecture you, you just crave attention...
No, they knew nothing. Nothing about the way he was only a great man to his other kids but not you, the way you would reach out for him yet he wouldn't even turn back to look at you.
"Alfred?"
You asked your voice almost too low to be heard, although he was a great friend to all he rarely listen to you.
"Yes master?"
"Why didn't father came today at graduation?"
"... He's busy"
He tried to concil the truth, although he doesn't care as much there was still something in him that hesitate to hurt you.
"Please... what is he busy with?"
"Well... Master Dick wanted to train with him for nostalgia"
Oh, he was busy with his other son... Too busy to remember about the fact that today was your graduation...
You wanted to cry but this was so normal that it numb you, everything hurt so much that you've grown used to it.
They were so cruel in the most silent way.
Purposefully avoiding you, forgetting about you while they enjoy their family movie together, you would sit at your room listening to their laughter, it irritate you to no end.
You remembered your mother word before she left you to him.
"A child like you will never have a place in that house"
It was hard and cold, you hated her for trying to poison you... Yet, unfortunately she was right.
You would never have a place in this house, you didn't stand out or have anything that could help you shine... Just a regular child living amongst the elite.
Each they they would walk past you as you weren't a being, their stare was enough to remind you of your existence in that house.
But deep in the forest where the nobody sees lies a rotting corpse.
A young girl in silky white dress that reaches above the knee, with a blank shoe covered in dirt with a dirty white socks.
Inside her little palms lies a picture, a picture of her family without her happily smiling together, the picture was crumble and torn, lace with mud and scratch marks.
Even while facing death you hold onto the picture, not wanting to let go of the only thing you hold dearly.
Her left leg twisted with print all over her precious body, dried tears down her cheeks.
Her lips dry yet adored with the red tint of blood that pour out her mouth onto the ground that was absorbing it.
Her beautiful eyes still open with a hint of live that used to be inside her, now the colours faded turning white and emotionless.
The world seems to understand that you had nobody to protect you and when a child had nothing but themselves, things get ugly.
The day of the graduation you didn't stay quite or waited... That's what you wished to do.
You walk out, nobody tried to stop you or check up on you. The announcer made a light joke about you having a stomach problems and forgotten about you after.
"Hey missy? What's with the frown?"
The guy asked as he sat next to you.
You should have seen the sign but even being acknowledged left you begging for more. Desperately wanting to be noticed you ignored your common sense.
"Especially with such nice clothes! C'mon let's find your pa"
He hold onto your wrist, and took you far away. You didn't resist. Scared and happy to be noticed.
"I love you dad..."
You called out for your father but he cover your mouth with his hands.
You should have called for his help but the only thing you could think of was how much you loved him.
The same man that doesn't wanted you was the same one you wanted so badly in your life as your father.
He wrap his hands around your tiny throat, spewing word's you couldn't understand.
You couldn't see or hear properly but the thought of them remaind in your head.
The first people to took you in after your mother left you, the first to put a roof on your head. They did everything but love you like a family.
You made a mistake of following the attention, you thought he would treat you like a family yet he was deceiving you.
Your soul didn't left yet, yearning for love it returns to the family pursuing for recognition and love.
You erase your memories to forget the mistake you had made.
Your body decaying slowly as maggots feasted upon you, the wild animals would nibble only and left.
Your last thought was to be loved and you wouldn't stop until they love you.
Your soul wouldn't rest until they utter the word, you'll let yourself suffer until you finally have someone to remember you.
BatFam x Neglected Reader.
SYPNOSIS: How could anyone missed something they've never had.
WARNING: NOT FOR SENSETIVE PEOPLE OR WHO HATE GORE. (Daddy issue incoming)
Some abuser never realised the extent of their actions nor do they try to understand the person they have hurt, they relish in being in power to chain an angel on Earth with them so they won't feel so envious of it's wings.
Some don't realise their own abused, the harsh word that left wounds deep inside their sweet angel's heart, their silhouette ligures around the house but their soul were never present... They do not understand that their own actions have consequences that hurt more than themselves.
You were abused in the silent ways, no one to cheer you own, no one to help you sleep, no one to love you.
You would watch a family so happy and perfect just that they were your family and you felt like watching as their perfection together formed an art while you watched. Just another audience watching a beautiful art.
"She was an angel"
Bruce began as he sit inside his office that left somewhere empty now... The guy who he was talking was from CPS conducting an interview after your death.
"I should have realised... she wasn't a bird like the rest, she was an angel who just needs some encouragement to fly"
Bruce was better at nursing helpless birds than an angel. He's been a father for more than he could remember but he never took onto consideration on how some kid's aren't all birds and he gave up so soon... After he realised he could nurture you like a bird.
"I would watch her silently, I couldn't realise what I was doing wrong... I didn't knew how to raise a bird like her and I realised something was wrong with her."
You would sit there at the side quietly as the rest of the family played around treating you like a ghost. Their playful banter and smile never reached yourside, you were treated like a guest at your own home.
"I kept trying tho, I pushed and pushed trying to force her to open her wings... Like the rest of the family, but it wouldn't budge"
Bruce would watch as he ordered you to do certain thing's that no one else had to, doing everybody else laundry, extra studies, outside tuition and even excluding you from certain family function.
He knew you weren't strong enough to be a vigilante, that's why the rest of your siblings have a hard time being near you... Your life were different. You were just too 'odd' to be include as a family to them.
"I never knew how much it hurt her..."
You could barely hold back your tears sometimes, everyone get the idle father but to you he was never a father he was just an instructor... Who clearly have favourite.
"I told Alfred to stop making food for her... To learn how to survive on her own, she was already weak I thought I was helping her survive"
You would stood there your eyes looking into the abyss, everyone had their plate on the table yet yours was missing. They did not asked or have a single concern as they happily ate their meal... As your flesh began to decay.
Every Christmas you were gone nowhere to be seen but everyone carried on their life like you were never there at the first place.
Your bones were crushed, your blood being drained slowly as their smile and laughter taunt you.
Why? Why would you ever missed something you never had?
You've spent your whole life without them. Why would you suddenly need them, they were heros... They were obliged to love everyone but you were being singled out.
"I don't know why she didn't scream when they dunk her head into the water"
The brutal scene of your death, some thugs decided to kidnapped you for money but when they realised your family nor the bats were coming they used you to fulfill twisted dreams.
Your wrist was red and some soft skin were pelling off. Tears, sweat and snot on your face as you begged God to save you.
Tim got kidnapped before and he was saved before an hour.. You've been down here for six hours, bruised and broken.
You thought for once that your family would show some mercy and come but they didn't, left you behind in the hands of two merciless people.
For six hour straight you've been beaten, they dunked your head into some cold water and before you could passed out and just let go they would pull your head back.
Your clothes were torn and dirty, your body was aching and there was a fine line of cut on your neck as blood wouldn't stop spewing out of it. Your fingers were mostly broken and you're been hit with a rench which left your jaw broken and your head bleeding.
"Dad...I, mis-ed u..."
You could barely speak but you used the bit of your strength on calling for your father, for him to embrace you in your dying moment... That's what you've wanted for a long time .
Memories flash across your mind as your breath began to slow down. You've watched alot of movies, you always wanted your father to pick you up into the sky and told you that he loved you.
The way a father would look at their daughter and be proud of. Everybody had a father by their side growing up atleast in your eyes, the one to hold their hands while they cheer, the one to embrace them when they accomplish even the smallest of thing.
But, he was never a present father to you. Ever award you won the only thing you care for was your father, you looked into the crowd of faces to see his proud face or just him but he wasn't there.
Unlike everyone else who had a father holding their hands to guide them through the darkness you only had yourself. Every compliment felt meaningless and every compliment was replaced with untold hatred.
"I couldn't stop myself that day... I hold onto her and cried. My baby was dead"
He continued as his face show a slight sorrow but he was holding it back.
"My child, my little angel... Lifeless on the dirty street left there to be eaten by the rats... I couldn't control my tears, so many word left untold... So many praise I've kept to myself, she died thinking she was a burden."
His voice cracked as his throat began to heat up from the emotion he was trying to surpass.
Your body was left at some nearby alleyway, you were still concious when they throw your body onto the cold cement. The light of the city blended in your eyes, you lay there paralyzed soaking wet from your blood.
It was cold and empty, trying to imagine the warmth of your father, but you couldn't...You didn't know how it felt to be under a father warmth. You never had that.
All those years filled with unsaid words and tension between the two of you. You couldn't speak and he didn't knew how to care for you. You watched as he would nurture all your siblings buy you.
Every birds by his side cuddling and loving while your feathers began to fall to warmth your heart, to play the role of being loved. You sacrifice your own greatness for fatherly love.
"Her body was cold and empty, not the girl I watched grew up... Her blood were warm, like she was trying to comfort me for the last time..."
Bruce looked at his hands as he looked back at the guy, he recoll running towards the scene, pushing the GCPD aside when they tried to stop him... But a father could never be stopped when their child is at stake.
He saw your body near the trash, they threw you away like you didn't meant anything but a trash to be taken out after it was done with.
He went on his knees as he dirty his perfect suit, his hands holding onto your body as he began to sob... Your face have went pale and he could see the damage done to your jaw and the large bruise on your left eye.
The bruise was swollen, purple and red colouring it... Seemed like they had hit you with something hard.
"Whoever killed her treated her no different from an animal. I hold onto her hands, I prayed to God to do something... I was... Late, too late to be a father to her."
"I ruined a beautiful angel... I wasn't a father... I treated her differently... I was too sucked up to understand that she needed a father and not Bruce..."
"I just, hoped that no father would do this to their child... She was my child, my angel, my baby... And I would die to bring her back and told her... I love you always"
I know this is shittu but im bored.
Yandere BatFam x other dimension Reader.
SYPNOSIS: In another world they did love you.
IMP: Reader did get neglected in her dimension.
>Part 1< >Part 2<
You've never been a figure or anything important, not something worth the light. Even in picture everybody looked so good and you're just there, even just from a glance it's hard to notice you.
You've tried to shine to take that light everybody else have in their grip but the light was purposefully avoiding you.
No amount of grade, beauty or perfection would make you their baby. Someone they cared for.
You weren't some star like them just the black sheep, everybody else have a life they can call theirs but your life was already written out for you, every possible things already carved out by everyone else but yourself.
Unlike Dick you weren't charming or good looking everything about him was amazing and admirable... The first Robin and the first to become their own person. Not even Bruce get to curve his story...
He treat his siblings equally, that was what he preached... It was true. You weren't a family to him, you didn't matter enough to be apart of his family.
Even when Jason decided to started killing you stayed by his side, brought him food and even tried to build an actual relationship but it was no use.
Everybody called you desperate for crawling to him when he needed somebody and the moment he healed(kind of) he throw you away. Ignoring how you were the only one who stood up for him, took all the insult and humiliation for his sake yet he took you for granted.
You took the word, hit and almost got disowned, for somebody who doesn't even care. You almost died for somebody you thought was your brother yet he didn't do shit when the family almost disowned you for staying by his side... Didn't offer home or solace. Just ignored your suffering for his sake.
Tim was smart everything you adore in a brother, stayed by his side spent sleepless nights just to watch over him when he was in the hospital, trying your best to support your brother who you fear might die.
Yes, everyone didn't get enough sleep but you didn't even sleep stayed by his side to make sure no harm could happened to him. Took your time to read book's knowing he can't even hear you, doing everything.
Yet when he opened his eyes he hugged the family and not you, even have the audacity to ask you to go out while they had some 'family' catch up...
Damian was one hell of a monster, yet you never gave up on him. He was just a kid and you wanted to be the admirable older siblings you never had.
It wasn't easy it never was, the constant lie about you to everyone and yes nobody in this world pity you enough to hear your side... Yout life was already hell and it wad just unfair how everybody else got what they wished for and you never get anything... Not even a family.
To the eyes of the media you were the black sheep often left out even in family portraits or any major Wayne gala, just some avarage citizen that was living the life...
Bruce couldn't remember your name's at times blaming it on old age, Alfred only saw you as an extra mouth nothing more nothing less.
Even when The joker kidnapped you and made Bruce choose between you and Catwoman he almost hesitate, you were never the first or second, you weren't an option to everybody... Just some extras living with them to make them look better.
Being you was painful itself, when your family who were supposed to be the hero rejected your presence.
So, when you accidentally step into another dimension you became attached.
Your false family loved you to no ends, you were dead in that universe... Dying a gruesome death.
Yet when they saw you alive even tho you weren't their family they cherished you and most importantly treat you like a family.
There was no more I no more threats just a loving family.
Who will do whatever to make you stay.
"I like this" You told them, you couldn't help but smile.
You've never played games with your actual family before, to them you were an actual bot with nothing interesting.
"Oh, you won't like it for long... I'll beat you"
Tim said as he aggressively nudge at you to make you lose control.
"Hey! That's cheating, someone take him out!"
Barbara stood up for you.
"Everything is fair in games... As long as you're the winner"
Damian speak up as he instinctively grab Tim hoodie and cover his eyes with it. To let you win.
"That's cheating! I should have won"
"Everything is fair in games... Just gotta have the right support"
You couldn't help it, everybody were together. You were finally in the picture, you didn't have to fit in they just have to accept you and they absolutely did.
You couldn't help but tear up, your heart aching slightly.
"Little wing are you okay? Should w-"
Dick spoke before he was cut off by Damian.
"Let's beat up Tim, he made them cry"
"Huh?! Im the one that lost... Your violence towards me make them scared!"
Before anyone else could argue on who made you cry Jason who was just there because of you spoke up.
"Don't be so obnoxious and loud... They're obviously emotional for a good reason. Bunch of wannabe adult in this room"
With that said he would gave you this handkerchief which was very unusual of him.
Taking a seat next to you on the ground as he pick up the extra controller, not even weirded out by your suddenly burst of tears just pure understanding.
Your Jason was the one who kick you aside the moment he felt healed but this one... He was trying his best to comfort you, he didn't like to be so upfront yet he was doing this to save you from embarassment and a little comfort.
Looking at the Handkerchief you couldn't help but smile, the same one you gave to your Jason when he came back but the one you made was burned into crispy by the very person you made for. He took it and throw it inside the crumbling building that was ignited into flames by him.
Called it a waste of fabric and time, not worth his precious time or life even tho you spend weeks stitching everything by hand... You just wanted to encourage him to be better you didn't knew he would take offence to your kindness.
There was some holes on the handkerchief yet it was extremely clean and ironed... He seems to cherish it alot.
"Took it everywhere and I ruined it, it was my lucky charm but you're here now so you'll be a good replacement"
"I don't think being compared to a literal fabric is fulfilling"
Duke commented.
"It's not just a fabric it's made by our beloved sibling here, shame on you Duke, shame on you"
Stephanie tease him with a fake offended look.
"They only made it for Jaybird... Im abit upse- Very upset"
Dick decided to bring another reason to start a full on war again.
"Hey! I want one but with our special logo!"
"This is childish, but I need one for a good purpose"
"Im the oldest so I should be first"
"Want one"
"Enough!"
Bruce spoke up, seems like all the arguing had finally went into his brain.
"As your Father... I am first priority"
"Master Bruce, as your somewhat father I must be the first I insist"
This was what family should be, united and happy. One that are willing to be by yourside even at your worst, willing to take the hit with you and just be ourselves to eachother without shame.
While you were finally getting the life you deserved your actual family were crumbling. Trying to find you, turning every nook and crook up side down.
Gotham was turning into literal hell, they were acting like dog hound pounding onto anyone who they assume have information on your whereabouts.
It seems like they have finally realised your worth. But you've already replaced them.
You were slowly healing but too bad they won't tolerate being replaced.
Watch me flop.
- Hush now Crybaby.
YANDERE BATFAMILY X NEGLECTED READER.
\\ Part 1 // \\ Part 2 // \\ Part 3 //.
You would stay by your rotting corpse, gently brushing your hair out of your face or just starting at it in general. Your corpse was becoming stiff and extremely cold, at times you tried to warm it by holding it.
A soft sigh left your mouth as you give up on trying to warmth the body display infront of you.
"How much longer do I have to wait...?"
You've been thinking alot, wondering why your body is still chained to Earth and you realised your physical body never got the rest it deserves.
The body laying on your coffin underground was a decoy made by your father, as twisted as it sound he only did it in hope of putting your soul back into the body.
Alfred and Bruce knew that, they knew that your current physical body was hidden inside the batcave. Alfred was hesitant at first but Bruce assure him that what he was doing might be morally wrong but it was the best option they have, if they want a new start.
Even after death nothing was better, your life only change slightly and it was for the worst. No one could see or interact with you, but you can uncover all the secrets which was alot more depressing than you expected.
You've found out how your mother died recently after a drug overdose... She was found stiff and unresponsive in her motel and a foam seeping out her mouth, surprisingly everything was clean, no missing things or any sing of struggle.
It was ruled as a sucide, the media claimed it as 'Woman killed herself after her daughter died of her neglection' it was Ironic... You couldn't help but stump your feet a little at that information, first your mother would never neglect you... and Second she was the best mother you could wish for.
You couldn't bear the silence inside the room so you decided to go outside to check on a particular individual.
Dick Grayson.
He was sitting infront of your grave cleaning it with his bare hand, replacing the previous flowers with Rose's. Since your relationship with him was on the edge when you died he doesn't even know your particular taste in flowers , as a result he would pick out new flowers everyday and replace them each day.
Your ghostly figure sit next to his watching him clean your grave once again, atleast he was being productive. Some especially Tim was coping in an unhealthy way.
Locked himself and barely ate anything, everything reminded him of you... His favourite coffee was now leaving an extremely bitter taste on his tongue, it was only because he realised how involved you were in his life and how without you his daily routine weren't the same.
Tim have also started to spiral into madness, doing research on you instead of his usual detective work. Who have hurt you and who have been nasty to you, he was willing to do anything but blame himself for your death or the family.
He's been looking back at every video footage of you and him and storing it into new files each file were specifically made for each video.
"Im sorry little wing... I couldn't find anything new today, so you'll have to take this for today"
Grayson gently murmured as he pluck out the old Lily's- old by one day - Wiping the vase carefully, holding as if it were the most fragile vase in the word.
"Life been abit hard... I know I shouldn't burden you with my problem especially when... You never had them. But, Kory and I took a break..."
His voice was more high-pitched than normal... Yet he continues to look after your grave, dealing it with great tenderness.
His mind flashing back to everything he had done wrong, prioritising joker over you... He remembered how he left you inside a burning building and instead saved the joker, as a result you got a nasty burn mark on your left hand.
Although he doesn't know who to blame you or the joker. Cause you're a hero, he thought you could save yourself... It doesn't matter that you were like what 7? Thought he did half heartily apologise after being lectured by Bruce.
"If you were back... Everything would be fine, im not blaming you of course... Just, I don't know anything good from bad especially after you left us"
"I do not know what possess you to be so reckless... I can't imagine what you must have felt but it's selfish"
"If you were here, Kory and I would take you before any of those... people could. It'll be just the three of us, I'll be the one you will depend on... You won't need to worry anymore, We'll never let you get hurt. Never again"
Dick continues to pour his heart out and slowly he began to smile, his mood began to shift from gloomy to thrilled, suggesting places and activities as if you were still alive.
If anybody was to come across this interaction it's either they'll lable him as mentally challenged or is high on sadness that they ended up talking to a grave.
You stood up getting ready to walk away, it's abit hard to pity them. They never acknowledged you when you were breathing and it's messed up that they only care after realising their mistakes.
"...Huh?"
A mysterious man was standing infront of you, you wouldn't be startled if he wasn't staring right into your eyes. A white lantern...?
You know him only because of the file you would read when you were bored out of your mind. Bruce must have called him, afterall he was a very new and surprising face to see in Gotham.
"...Nice to meet you?"
After your short introduction and your very long introduction on why he must not interfere at all, because as much as it suck being a ghost being alive with your current family would be hell.
Thought he does not seem to value your opinion at all, directly telling Bruce about your presence.
"You can speak... she can hear you"
Deadman informed Bruce.
"I apologise for my negligence and your mother unexpected death. She was a great woman just like you... I don't expect you to forgive so easily but, I want to see you smile again"
You didn't utter a word. You wanted to comfort him yet it was hard pitting the same man who avoid your presence when you were alive.
"Can't you bring her back...?"
"No, she's too far gone"
Your corpse look fine from outside but your inside were rotting and molding. Bruce tried his best yo preserve your body but what's gone is gone. All you want is for your body to rest.
"I refuse to believe. There must be a way for her to be back."
"I have no saying in logic. But there are artifact's that allows one to see ghost"
"I will do anything to see that smile again... I want to apologise to her face to face as well"
Your Father was one of the rare people in the family taking the responsibility in your death, this wasn't the first time he utter an apology. He would slept in your bed missing you, crying or talking in his sleep apologising it seem as the guilt never stopped chasing him.
Though he was the same man who left you unattended during gala surrounded by random man while you were a child. The same one who lecture your brother for leaving you in a fire only because he would have to explain why the burnt mark was there and not because it was wrong.
It was only natural for guilt to cling onto him the longest, he already lost Jason. But you were different, Jason died while having a somewhat happy memories. You died with nothing but bitterness and salty tears.
As much as you would love to fulfill your father's dream you couldn't help but be uncomfortable.
You've overhead Bruce and Jason conversation once and you regretted it. Jason being the most experienced in dying suggested the worst thing possible.
A new bedroom, made just for your liking.
A dingy room with chains to restrain you. All the window must have bars, even if you somehow managed to broke the iron chain you wouldn't be able to jump out and possibly risk breaking a bone.
"It's a necessity, I went mad when I came back, what gives you the idea that she won't be the same and in our case you'll be her first victim"
Jason harshly spit out. You couldn't help but disagree you wouldn't dare to hurt your family, even if they have hurt you in unexplainable ways. Your heart still ache for them in vain.
"Even if she dare to break out I have another method, far more wise and useful but I rather we use it as a last resort"
The last resort was, smashing your ankle. It was simple and Jason already have experience to make sure you won't be in more pain than necessary.
To put anything between your foot and for that object to be used as a support, tying the foot and arm's to restrain you. With a hammer all they have to do was to smash the bone into pieces, you wouldn't be able to walk at all but it was also necessary to treat the bone to avoid disability.
If the bone was to be left to heal by itself it would reconstruct themselves wrong leaving you to excruciating pain, not being able to depend on your foot and you might need to cut your foot off.
Another reason why you dread to be brought back, no amount of convincing or pleading would make them understand... They'll break you and rebuild you as if that was nothing.
They can't treat you like a daughter or a sister even tho they seem so willing... To you they only love you because of the guilt and not because they understand.
Damian was a reason itself, didn't even let a single tear drop during your funeral and the visit at the hospital. He did cry in secret which was pleasant to watch.
He's either beating people into pulp for the smallest crime or is actively trying to bring you back in another form. He have asked Raven to assist him but even the girl found it inhuman, suggesting for him to just mourn you and let your soul be in peace.
It was now noon the whole family jam inside the living room discussing.
"She can't be brought back? Jason died, the Lazarus pit can and must brought her back"
Damian argued, as much as he doesn't wanted to be emotional your absence was taking a toll on him.
You were the first to treat him like a human and he took that for granted. When he realised others weren't as understanding as you were he would get bothered... As much as he hate you that was just the crust of his heart, to him the core matter more... It was totally not an excuse for his horrible behaviour.
"You haven't tried that, father we must try before coming into conclusion!"
"I have tried Damian, nothing worked. Her body was rotting from the inside I was not aware"
Finally Barbara spoke up.
"You have tried? I have been visiting her grave everyday when did you di-"
"It was a decoy"
Jason decided to told the truth. The room felt into a long silence and suddenly shouting and names. They weren't happy that Bruce didn't tell them about the decoy, to them that was a breach of trust Bruce desperately tried to build after your death.
"Silence! There is another way we can see her, Deadman suggested using special artifact's that allows people to see ghost... We will us that as a temporary comfort and we'll find a way to bring her back... with us "
Everybody agreed, unknowns to them you were contemplating life whether you should leave your family and risk the chance of being brought back to life against your will or... Leave.
TAGS: @lovebug-apple, @leeiasure, @invinciblewaffles, @dangeroustravelermultiverse, @shycreatorreview, @bellethesleepypotato , @cluelessteam , @fortunatelydifferentqueen, @doggyteam2028 @icryat2
SPECIAL TAG: @megasweetbones.( TYSM for the great idea đ«¶)
BATFAM X NEGLECTED READER.
IMP: Sucide, child neglection, torture.
You were an orphan adopted by a wealthy man who later turned out to be Batman, yes you were full of joy and excitement. Who wouldn't be? To be apart of the Wayne family and to save people... That was every child dream.
They made you feel loved and wanted and you got addicted to that feeling... Because you've never felt so great before. You crave attention and validation, they're the one who introduced you to that feeling in the first place.
But as time past so did their affection and attention. Their adoration began to fade slowly and you cling onto the feeling with all your might but that was not enough. Nothing was enough.
Damian got introduced to the family, a new image for the picture. He was rude and opposite of you yet everybody love him... And you began to fade into the background.
Everybody love Damian, it doesn't matter if he was respectful or not... He didn't have to try so hard to have the spotlight unlike you, he didn't crave the light as much as you did but he still got it.
Your title of being Robin was rip from you.
It didn't even take a year for you to be replaced.
You felt like a baby who was being taught to walk and the moment another baby comes they completely let go of your hand. It was cruel and painful, you weren't ready to face the word yet.
You couldn't do anything, they were your family by paper whether you liked it or not.
Here you were sitting on the edge of a building letting the rain soaked your entire body.
Today you had a big fight with Bruce. It was a nasty fight that ended in him slapping you across the face...
It started out simple, you were jealous- envious of Damian... Because everytime he did even something as simple as putting back a book your achievements get hidden away. Not to mention on how his grade were much better than yours when he didn't even try.
You didn't even sleep a wink and he still was ahead of you and worst of them all everyone saw you as a slacker... It was not fair, you spent hour's and hours trying to be good at something but somebody in the family managed to be better.
You were tired of trying so you gave up, that day Damian was just straight up bullying you.
"You do realised blood like yours have no place in here? I suggest you take the easy way and leave... it'll be the trash taking itself out "
His word sting especially today... He did everything in his power to seperate you from the rest of the family and it was working.
Without any warning you threw a book at him and it hit him square in the face. It was a moment of anger you apologise profusely...
It's just... Damian always picked on you, called you names, ruin your birthday and... He took everybody away from you... Today was just a bad day in general because you overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about you.
Calling you difficult and how he wondered how you became such failure compared to your oh so perfect siblings.
You've been weeping for hours you can't stop yourself... It's been so long, it's been years. For year's you have been logging for your family to love you, the same people who took you by choice.
It was unfair, they hook you up to make you feel like you matter in reality you never matter, you were just a substitute.
You've tried, you definitely did tried... Why would someone who doesn't even want you in the first play choose you? Out of all the kid's in the orphanage they took you, they knew the responsibility... They took you as an accessory not as a person.
"Dammit..." you curse under your breath, your entire body was trembling, breath hot and messy... You couldn't stop the hiccup even when you cover your own mouth with your hands.
Every bad memories was surfacing, how everybody saw you as a spoiled child even tho they had it better than you could ever wish for. How everybody saw you as a headache.
You look pathetic, the same hero who saved people was now in need of help.
Before you could even finish crying you felt somebody hands on your body and before you could fight back a piece of febric was forcefully place on your nose. As you panicked you accidentally sniff the intoxicating smell.
It didn't take long for your body to react and shut down, you stumble on the ground laying there, your eyes bagan to shut themselves and before you could utter a word you saw the chilling smile of Joker.
When you woke up you were tied up, an old television infront of you... And the haunting figure of the man who have done this.
"What do you want?" You asked without hesitation, ignoring the throbbing pain of your head.
"Oh, simple... Just enjoy the show"
With that said he turn on the television with a press as he walk behind you and stood there, he gently place his cold hand's on your shoulder.
The video began to play, it was inside the manor during christmas... Everybody but you were present.
"As much as I like her... She's too full of herself. Oh and don't forget the 'Barbara is this great?' 'barbara can we please talk' blah blah blah... it's getting annoying- already is annoying"
"Oh definitely! She ruin the mood... That's why we... the best members of the family do thing's in secret"
"She asked me to kept this diary of her's a secret and God she's a crybaby... I've read the whole thing and I cannot stop laughing"
"Oh! C'mon this is a great tea! let's read it!"
"Isn't that invading her privacy?"
"... She's not here"
With that they began to read your personal diary where you wrote down your whole feelings. Your heart ache as they began to laugh at every word, you've given that Diary to Dick because you trusted him the most...
Another tape began to play. It was the previous gala...
It started out normal until they began to mock you... A desperate girl who would do anything for validation.
Each tape was about your own family mocking and talking behind your back... Calling you a desperate baby and how you need to grow up.
You've been crying hysterically.
You've never done anything in your life to hurt them it was the complete opposite... you praise and complement them but they were so willing to use your name for entertainment.
It hurt that none of your supposed family even like you...
"Nobody... love me? Why?"
"It's because you're just not supposed to be loved" Joker replied still smiling.
"I tried so hard.. but nobody care about me... Im not even a person to them..."
"Im a good student, im polite... I should be loved! it's unfair... I just wanted to be loved "
Life was cruel, it will always be towards you. It took your parents and left you stranded, the system wasn't great it took advantage of those who were vulnerable... Suddenly your life turned around to be loved and just to be betrayed by the same people who you called family.
"I deserve to be loved!... I just want my family to love me"
It was true you were just a baby at heart. You were impulsive and would jump at any opportunity to be acknowledged by your family...
Even Alfred doesn't like you, he barely even pick you up from school, made food you do not like and lectured you if you don't eat...Force eating was not fun.
Just like a baby you needed to be nurtured and cared for... Everybody got that except you.
Joker let you off free no torture atleast not physically.
"Dad... could we talk please?"
you asked outside the his office... You were desperately, your mind was being polluted and you need your father.
"Im busy"
Right, too busy saving everybody's else and watching you rot...
"Please... I need you"
you plead, you didn't want to face the truth... it scares you. Life was too hard on you.
"Im busy, go disturb Richard"
Disturb? right your whole existence was just to disturb everybody else from having a great time.
With that said you began to search for Richard...
Instead you bump into Jason his face was still plastered with the same old frown.
Jason used to adore you calling you his favourite infront of everybody else but now... He doesn't even recognise you or he pretend not to.
"Jay... could you please listen to me, life is really hard and today I enco-"
"Listen up princess"
he began, looking down at your small frame.
"Life is hard, everybody had it hard... Not everything is about you and unlike you, we don't bitch around... We deal with it"
Your hand's began to tremble, he was suffocating and scary especially when he's pissed off.
"We're not spoiled like you. This is why the rest of the family Don't like being around you... You always complain like a baby"
Before he could say more you left. You went straight to the library just to saw the rest cuddling together watching some movie.
"Excuse me?"
"Go away... we're having a family moment"
Damian spoke, the couch was facing the other side of the wall and they didn't even looked at you.
"Yeah... you're ruining the mood here"
"Can you get some popcorn tho?"
Right to them you were just a baby... spoiled to the core nothing more.
Your mind was polluted and your heart was aching badly, the word joker told you began to surface.
You walked towards the open window, the wire of the lamp cling onto your ankle... Without a thought you leap.
If the word doesn't want you why must you keep suffering?.
This is such a bad one im sorry.