This is a side blog. Briefly : I have another blog where I post about the story I’m currently writing — “Spiders of Gotham” on AO3 by @spectravondergeist8, if you want to check — so this one will be more for reblogs and for posting art that isn’t related to my fic.
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they are very dear to me even tho one of them is also a menace that needs a punch to the gut yesterday, not naming names but it starts with harlequin :)
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You walked along the sidewalk amidst laughter, stretching out the time as much as possible before the group disbanded. You accompanied your friends to the bus stop, listening to their plans for the weekend and promising to send them the class notes. When the bus left and you were left alone on the street, the warmth of the interaction faded quickly, replaced by the cold Gotham air.
They began the walk back to the manor alone. They were in no hurry. You knew that even if you took two hours, no one would be waiting at the door to ask where you had been.
As you walked, you mentally reviewed your week. Bruce hadn't attended the awards ceremony at school, even though you had reminded him three times; Dick had called you "champ" twice in a row because, evidently, he had forgotten your name was Reader; and Tim hadn't even left his office in three days.
You could have been angry, but you weren't.
You remembered your mother. You remembered how she always said that happiness isn't something that happens to you, but something you decide. She was your example that, in a city that tries to sink you, the best resistance is maintaining a genuine smile. That’s why, when Dick greeted you with a generic nickname, you gave him a bright smile and asked how he was doing. It wasn’t a fake mask; it was your decision not to let their lack of attention dictate your mood.
If they wanted to believe you were a simple, happy person who didn't notice anything, all the better for you.
Passing near an alley, you saw a couple of figures jumping between buildings. They were fast, professional. You recognized Jason’s fighting style in the way one of them took down an assailant a couple of streets away. He always said he kept you away because you were "weak," but the reality was that you knew exactly who they all were. You knew the bruises weren't from domestic accidents and that the late nights weren't for partying.
You had simply decided it was easier to let them ignore you. If they thought you were someone distracted, you wouldn't have to give explanations when you "accidentally" moved Bruce's investigation files—the ones that seemed to be taking too much of his time—or when Damian found his equipment sabotaged after being especially rude to you.
You continued your way, turning down a steep street that descended toward the city center. Just as you were halfway down the slope, a sharp scream made you react. A woman, startled by something strange, let go of a strange object that crashed directly into a baby stroller parked nearby.
The stroller began to roll downhill, quickly gaining speed due to the incline.
You didn't think twice. You tossed your backpack onto the sidewalk next to a stunned bystander. "Hold this," you said, already running.
You jumped into the street after the stroller. The wind whipped your face as you forced your legs to go faster. At a middle distance, you spotted something strange. It looked like a toy, a small stuffed animal-shaped creature, desperately floating in front of the stroller, pushing against the chassis with all its might to slow it down. The effort was futile, but the creature didn't give up.
You didn't lose your momentum from the surprise. The stroller was heading directly toward a girl crossing the street on a bicycle; the young woman had frozen upon seeing the danger approach.
A few meters from impact, you managed to reach the stroller. You lunged forward, grabbing the handle with both hands. To stop, you had to dig your heels into the asphalt. You felt the heat burning the soles of your feet and the smell of burnt rubber filled the air as you counterbalanced with your entire body. The stroller stopped centimeters away from the bicycle.
You took a breath, panting slightly. Looking down, the small winged "plushie" was gone. It had vanished into thin air the moment you secured control.
The mother arrived running, pale and trembling, and hugged her baby before showering you with thanks. Your backpack was handed back to you. "It was nothing," you said, forcing your best smile even though your feet were stinging. "Let's just call it my cardio training for the day. It's a good thing I’m not one of those heroes who wear capes, or I would have tripped."
The woman let out a small, nervous laugh—exactly what you wanted. You said your goodbyes and resumed your walk toward the manor. Your smile was still there, but your mind was already wandering. You had seen that creature. It wasn't an adrenaline rush. It was there, trying to help.
As you continued toward the entrance of Wayne Manor, turning over what had just happened in your head, you didn't notice that a small creature was floating a few meters behind you. The fairy followed you in silence, hidden among the shadows, watching your every step.
You entered the mansion with the usual echo of the foyer greeting you. You hadn't even finished crossing the threshold when Alfred appeared, as if he knew the exact second you set foot inside. His eyes dropped for a moment to your shoes, noticing the unusual wear on the soles, but he asked no questions in front of the others.
"Welcome home, Young Reader. Dinner will be ready in an hour," he said in a tone that only you could interpret as an "I'm glad you're okay."
"Thanks, Alfred. I'm starving," you replied with your usual smile.
At that moment, Duke rushed down the stairs, adjusting his watch and checking his phone with a frown. Seeing you, he stopped for just a second, just enough time not to collide with you.
"Hey..." Duke began, searching for the word in his mind. "Sorry, I'm swamped with something Bruce asked me for. We'll talk... later."
He gave you a quick look, one that said he truly intended to come back. You knew Duke was one of the few who made the effort; he would probably show up at your door before bed to try to reclaim those minutes of connection that the vigilante life stole from him.
"Don't worry about it, Duke! Good luck with that!" you shouted as he already disappeared down the hallway toward the Cave.
You walked up the stairs calmly, but as you turned the corner toward your room, you ran into the rigid figure of Damian. He stood with his arms crossed, partially blocking the way.
"You continue to waste your time outside these walls with insignificant people," Damian snapped without preamble, looking at you with a disdain that no longer affected you. "It is pathetic how you strive to fit into such a mediocre society. You are an embarrassment to the Wayne name, even if you technically do not carry it."
You held his gaze for a second, but not to challenge him—instead, you offered your kindest greeting.
"Hi, Damian! It's good to see you too. Have a nice afternoon."
You gave him a quick wave and walked past him without stopping, leaving him mid-sentence. You didn't bother looking back to see his expression of contained fury; you knew your positive indifference bothered him more than any insult you could hurl.
Entering your room, you closed the door and let out a long sigh. You tossed your backpack onto a chair and collapsed face down on the bed, finally feeling the fatigue in your legs. You closed your eyes, thinking about sleeping a bit before dinner, but the rest didn't even last five minutes.
A bluish flash filtered through your eyelids.
You frowned and sat up in bed. The glow wasn't coming from the window or any lamp. It was coming from your bookshelf. The shelves began to vibrate slightly, and a pulsing light started to emerge from behind the encyclopedias and the books you barely touched.
You got up and approached with curiosity. The light moved like a living thing, pointing to specific gaps between the spines of the books. Following the trail, you began to move the volumes, clearing them out of the way as the light grew more intense, almost blinding.
Removing the last book, you didn't find the wooden wall of the back of the furniture. Instead, the space expanded. The light sucked you forward, and from one second to the next, the ground beneath your feet disappeared.
You stumbled and fell, but not onto the carpet of your room. Your hands touched something soft, like fresh grass, and the air that filled your lungs no longer smelled of the manor’s floor wax, but of wildflowers and something sweet, almost electric. Looking up, the ceiling of your room had been replaced by a sky of impossible colors.
You had arrived at a place you did not know.
Hiiiii! Coconut reporting in! ♪(´▽`)
I have to admit that while I was writing this, I wanted to write two different parts and had no idea how to link them. So, I figured I’d start with the "magical hero" transformation first—I actually drew inspiration from two different seasons for this intro, though I’m still not 100% sold on it—and then I'll dive into the neglect side of the story.
Anyway, this is just a draft, so I might end up changing it later <( _ _ )> I’ll figure it out as I go
Full time party girl, part time daughter. MASTERLIST
In which: Bruce Waynes daughter, Y/N Wayne is a full time party girl. Club hopper, party animal, hedonist. Whatever you want to call it. To full the void her father left, she turns to nightclubs, dingy bars and basement raves.
But when Bruce Wayne finds his daughter in an alleyway, half dead and delirious, he decides something has to change.
Prologue: Before the party
Chapter one: Club classics
Chapter two: Miss world
Chapter three: Sympathy is a knife
Chapter four: Awful
Chapter five: Talk Talk
Chapter six : Petals
Chapter seven: Stay Away
Chapter eight: Heaven Tonight
Moodboard: info on reader/ second moodboard
Playlist: Music/ little more info on each chapter / playlist submission 1 / playlist submission 2/ playlist submission 3 / playlist submission 4/ playlist submission 5
Bruce might not spend the most time with you, but your dynamic with him is much different than your siblings.
After all, you’re his first girl, his sweet, civilian princess. And he goes to GREAT lengths to keep it that way.
When you were young, you learned fast not to ask to be Robin next. Bruce would get this stiff look on his face and send you to your room.
Even now, if he’s working on a case involving something too intense, he’ll keep you cooped up in the house. You revolt every time.
As the only Wayne kid not preoccupied with the double-life, the task of keeping appearances has often fallen to you. After so many years of practice, beautifying and maintaining comes second nature to you.
Your siblings know who to go to for fashion or makeup advice, and who will get them all dolled up in the most efficient amount of time.
As Bruce’s first baby girl, you’re spoiled rotten. Your bedroom is large and stuffed full with everything you could ever want, more than you even know what to do with. Gifting and worrying is definitely Bruce’s love language.
—
As Dick Grayson’s oldest-still-baby sister, you guys have a bond he’d like to think is special. You were around for his later teenage years, still young and impressionable and fragile.
And to him, you never changed. You’re a teenager now, but he still laces your heels when they come undone (like you can’t…) and holds your bags when you shop. You yell at him for acting like you’re still a kid, but he can’t help it! Something about how you haven’t been crushed by the weight of hero work warms him, in a way.
You knew him at his most versatile, his most unstable and moody. Something about that is really sentimental to him, so he has a lot of patience with your occasional teenage tantrums.
And yes, he will fight ANYONE for the title of favorite brother.
—
Jason Todd finds you conflicting. You confuse him terribly, and any time he sees you interacting with someone, it cements the idea that the two of you are much too different.
Before he died you guys were close. The two nearest in age in the manor, friendship was bound to happen.
The two of you would hide out during Bruce’s fancy business meets, beneath tables and behind plants, with your poofy dress and his mini-tux.
He would stand up to any bullies at school, and you would pamper him with affection to your heart's content. It worked, for a while. Until he died.
Jason isn’t stupid, he knows you mourned him. You still mourn him, he thinks, the him that died in his younger self, before the rage and the pit and the blood. The small Jason with the braces and the crooked smile.
Now that he’s back, it’s hard. Seeing you have teenage outbursts, and normal people problems, it jars him. Admittedly, he distances himself on purpose, despite how you reach and reach for him.
The two of you are just in two very different worlds.
He tries to stay very far away from the manor, and all things Batman, even if they are technically on a truce now. Old memories die hard. But when he does see you, and how you’ve flourished into a promising young woman, something warm knocks loose in his chest.
And you better believe he’ll be loving you fiercely from the shadows, even if he himself doesn’t know it.
—
Tim Drake has a lot of people relying on him. It comes with the whole Robin/RedRobin territory, alongside his duties for the family. Helping Batman has always been his dream, even before he joined the ranks.
But what he didn’t expect was a hidden little blossom inside the manors' foreboding walls.
You took him in easily, despite your pressing grief over your late-adopted brother.
You’re over the moon about having a baby brother to pamper, even though he’s barely a few years younger.
Tim was twelve when he came, making you 14 (and a half, you’d insist). You took him everywhere you went, to shopping and movies and anything else your little brains could think up.
Tim knows only this: He wouldn’t trade it for the world.
You may be a civilian, and you may have your issues with Bruce, but when you wrap an arm around him, roughing up his perfectly combed hair with a snicker, he feels more at ease than anywhere else.
You always pay for him, driving him everywhere (Bruce still doesn’t trust you on the roads, what about the reckless drivers??) and constantly sending him funny videos.
When he’s with you he doesn’t feel like everyone’s leaning on him. He can just be your baby brother for a minute. He can lean on someone else instead.
Your connection is extremely important to him, especially in the first years after Jason’s death, when Bruce needed him more than ever.
He would go into your room before school and you would do his hair, hands all careful and warm. You didn’t have callouses like him, skin smooth and soft against his scalp.
He didn’t have difficult hair but he still pretended he needed help every morning, just to hear you rattle on about something unimportant while you smoothed your fingers through his hair.
He will fight Dick on the Favorite Brother Title.
—-
Cassandra Cain has had to learn a lot moving to the manor. Adapting has been a learning curve for sure, but she’s nothing if not determined.
She fits in well there, considering how alike her and her father are. It gives her a place to express herself freely and grow.
She honestly didn’t expect to be so captivated by a sister.
You two are the same age (perfect in her mind), but while she’s out foiling traffic rings and thwarting mob bosses, you’re groaning about calculus homework and deciding your outfits for the school week.
The difference is stark, but she adores you. You were just as excited to have a sister when she moved in, and so you immediately took her under your wing.
She got the full works: makeup your brothers refused to let you test on them, hair accessories you thought would “look cute”, and countless other girly things that make Cass feel a little less like a soldier sometimes.
You get so excited about these things: you give her so much of your makeup and clothes, claiming it “looks better on her”, leaving her with piles of things she’d never use without you.
After all, you got your love of gifting from your papa.
But you make it sound so glamorous, the girly life, so sometimes she tries it.
She lets her usually-precise hand guide makeup over her skin, striking her now as clumsy and alarming.
She finds she likes it best when you do it, despite how you whine about how she makes anything look good.
Cass confidently and proudly takes the Favorite Sister Title.
—-
Damian Wayne is confused. He thought for sure his Father would raise all of his young to carry strength, for one. And for two: Another blood child??
This makes you his sister. A fact he solemnly accepts fairly quickly.
“Life can provide a hand that is less-than-optimal. You must simply force the odds.”
“What the fuck does that mean, Damian.”
He tries to force you into getting stronger by the only method he knows: tough love.
You don’t stand for it, which pushes the two of you apart at first. Not to mention that Bruce refuses to allow the idea of you doing hero work. Not that you want to…
But Damian is nothing if not stubborn. He basically harasses you for months, much to your dismay, intruding into your room and following you around at school.
After all, how can a child born of the blood of Batman be so ...dormant?
During this time, something startling happens inside him. You start growing on him.
In a way, he begins to like that you’re separate from all the action. Even though he’s still very insistent that training would do you some good, he’s begun to accept it.
What he absolutely CANNOT accept, however, is how unapologetically you try to corrupt him into your embarrassingly girly ways. He will simply try and observe you in your quarters, gathering information on his only blood sister, when he gets roped into testing some new “skin-care” product, or clipping offensively sparkly clips in his hair.
Although, he’d never admit he loves when you whine about how clear his skin is, or how full his brows are. He’ll just give a haughty smile, making some smug comment about superior genes.
Eventually after the whole culture shock, Damian begins to accidentally like you. When you’re still awake when he gets back from patrol with Bruce, you make him some sort of difficult, sweet drink, and bustle him onto the nearest couch to talk his ear off about insignificant gossip. You like telling him because he, apparently, is the “most trustworthy” out of your family with such trivial matters.
(He wears this like a badge of honor).
Damian feels insulted by the notion that anyone other than he could be the “favorite”. After all, he is the only blood sibling.
—
Alfred and you have a connection that is unlike any of the other batkids.
He raised you more than any of the others, with you being home the most without the superhero business. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
As a little girl he would help pick out beautiful little princess dresses for you, playing pretend and taking you out in the garden while he tended to it.
He sometimes, secretly, thinks of you as his own. You were the little pocket of normalness in the manor, the only rest from the otherwise tenseness of the double life.
He takes great pride in the normalcy of your life, of the way you complain to him about annoying teachers or parties your father would never allow you to attend.
He’s the proudly uncontested Favorite Grandpa.
this is so lazy guys im a faliure (sobs pathetically looking through my fingers to see if you're going to comfort me)
FINISHED!! Really glad I was able to get this out during my Easter break, so happy with how it turned out & would LOVE to hear what you all think!! That’s all really and have a great day/night ☀️🌙
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the perfect student. the billionaire's daughter. the girl everyone thinks has everything. so why does she feel so empty? behind the grades and smiles is a life of being ignored, burned out, and quietly bullied by the people she calls friends. just when she's ready to jump, a strange notification appears. 'life not going your way? join STARGIRL.COM and your life is destined to change!' she clicks.
TAGS !! angst + negligence + bullying + mentions of death + bad parenting + dysfunctional family + gore (?) + ooc (?) + bad writing + mentions of suicide + etc (I actually don't know, tell me if I missed any)
00 (PROLOGUE) - WIP!
01 LIFE IS UNFAIR - WIP!
!! EVERYTHING IS STILL IN THE WORKS, FUTURE CHAPTERS WILL BE COMING !!