Is the reader going to have a lover throughout the story?
When reading the new chapter I had the silly idea that one of the many boys she was with simply put his number in her phone and now they text each other non-stopš
anyway, thanks for the new chapter pookie it was wonderfulš
-š·anon
awwww this is rlly cute!! so yeah reader does have one of the guys number but heās not her main love interest!
no problem! happy you liked it babes š
might be ooc for tiff srry
I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!!! THIS IS SO FUN AND NO ITS NOT TOO OOC!!!! I FEEL SO SPECIAL THAT YOU DID THIS I'M LITERALLY GONNA CRY
friendly reminder that if i have ever befriended you and have not spoken to you in a while itās nothing youāve done wrong itās just because iām a piece of shit at keeping in contact with people and i still love you okay good
Prologue
ya'll, I cannot sleep with my arm in this stupid cast, so i started rereading "the great Gatsby" (my comfort book) and i got this idea. i know, i know, i have 3 unfinished fics buttttttt i'm injured and this is my blog and i have free will so i'm writing this. This is yandere romantic batboys and bruce x reader. BUT set in the roaring 20's. Send in asks, requests, ideas, and just what you think about this! Likes, comments, reblogs and asks are encouraged and keep me going! Love yall <333. This is written in 1st person, reader is recalling events in her journal. This is a rough draft for the prologue! Sorry if it doesnt make sense, i'm high off pain meds writing this bc i'm BORED.
The first time I saw Jason Todd, he was nothing to me Just another boy in my fatherās estate, covered in dirt, hands rough from labor, his bruised knuckles proof of a fight he hadnāt won. His blue eyes were sharp, full of something wild, something untamed, something that made you bristle, the kind of fire you knew to stay away from, even at 12 years old.
The first time I spoke to Jason Todd, two years after I saw him, I thought he was filth.
He was a boy covered in dirt, his hands stained with mud and the smell of horses, his knuckles raw from a fight he clearly hadnāt won. His face was sharp, bruised, skinny and too wild for someone who worked under my fatherās name. He was nothing, just another street rat lucky enough to be given work in my fatherās stables, another nameless stray that old Mr. Wilkes had dragged in from the gutters of Gotham. He smelled like sweat, hay, and something sharp, something angry.
I was fourteen years old and wore pearls around my throat, a silk dress with delicate lace at the sleeves. My fatherās estate stretched over rolling green fields, our mansion standing tall like something out of a dream. My motherās hands were soft, her perfume sweet, and I had never known hunger or want. My world was a world of glittering lights and expensive champagne, of high society and grand parties, of people who smiled with their teeth but whispered behind painted fans.
Jason Todd did not belong in my world.
Yet, somehow, he slipped in like a stain on silk.
We met on the back steps of the estate, where the stable boys cut through to the gardens. I was waiting for my automobile when he nearly ran into me, boots dragging dust over my polished shoes.
Jason Todd? He was filth beneath my shoes.
Or at least, thatās what I told myself.
Because the first time I met him, he nearly ran into me.
He didnāt bow like other servants did, he didnāt apologize profusely and beg for forgiveness.
He barely even looked at me before muttering, āWatch it,ā like I was in his way.
I had never been spoken to like that in my life.
I hated him immediately.
I took a startled step back, wrinkling my nose at the smell of sweat, hay, and horse.
The nerve.
I straightened my back like Daddy told me to when I wanted to look serious and I tilted my chin up as I stared down at him. "Excuse me?"
Jason smirked, slow and lazy, eyes glinting with amusement. "Did I stutter?"
I had never wanted to slap someone so badly.
Instead, I remember turning and walked away, forgetting my plans of going into town, heels clicking sharply against the stone, vowing to never look at him again and to hate him forever, no matter how handsome he was,.
That vow didnāt last long, especially when he took off his shirt.
Jason was everywhere.
I saw him at the stables, his shirtless back slick with sweat, muscles shifting under tanned skin as he worked. I saw him sneaking apples from the kitchen, disappearing into the trees, laughter on his lips. I saw him in the streets, fists flying, always coming back with fresh bruises, always alive in a way no one else was.
And then, you heard about him.
"That stable boy got into another fight," the maids whispered. "Damn near killed the other boy, apparently the other kid got smart about his lady."
At the time, I thought the strange burning feeling in my gut was disgust at even hearing Jason's name. Now I know, what I felt was pure jealousy, not knowing the 'lady' Jason nearly killed a boy over was me.
"Heās trouble," my mother warned when I asked about him at dinner. "Keep away from him, sweetheart."
"He wonāt last long here," my mother sighed. "That kind of boy never does, no matter how much of a soft spot your father has for him."
My father pitied Jason, told me I oughta be nicer to him like I am to the other workers (he would regret that statement soon.)
He had no one. No mother, no father, no family, nothing but the clothes on his back and determination. He had what my father called "the look of a man who'd rather die than fail" and my father respected that.
But Jason did last.
I hated him.
Hated the way he smirked at me from across the gardens, like he knew something I didnāt.
I hated the way he never bowed, never apologized, never treated me like the others did.
I hated that when I was alone, when my fatherās friends spoke about marrying me off to the sons of their business partners, I thought of Jason Todd instead.
The first conversation I had with Jason Todd was after I had fought with my father.
It was about marriage. About duty. About a boy I didnāt love.
I ran into the garden dramatically ignoring my father's desperate calls, pearls at my throat, tears in my eyes.
And Jason was already there.
Sprawled under an oak tree, cigarette between his lips, watching me like heād been waiting for this moment all his life.
"You rich girls cry over the dumbest shit," he muttered.
I whipped around. "What did you just say to me?" How dare he speak to me like I was any other girl, like this wasn't my home, like he didn't work for my father.
Jason pushed himself up, boots kicking up dirt as he smirked. "You ever go to bed hungry?"
My breath caught. He had a point, you were privileged.
"Ever steal to survive?" His voice was low, teasing, sharp. "Ever wake up in the morning and wonder if youāll still have a roof over your head by sundown?"
I didnāt answer, for the first time in years I felt something close to shame.
Jason tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with resentment. "Didnāt think so, princess."
I hated him. He made me feel childish. He humbled me. He burst my perfect bubble.
And I loved him for it.
I loved him for making you feel something real.
And that was the beginning of everything.
I loved Jason Todd.
I loved him when he me you out of the house at midnight and made me ride my horse bareback through the fields.
I loved him when he knocked the rich boy who called me a tease's teeth out.
I loved him when he threw pebbles at my window on the third floor and scaled the walls to my balcony.
I loved him when he kissed me for the first time at 14 under the summer stars, hands gripping my waist, mouth desperate against mine.
"Youāre my Jason, my Jaybird," I whispered against his lips. Corny, but nothing felt better to say, especially when I saw his face.
Jason smiled like I had given him the whole damn world.
And he? He was my whole world.
When Jason was seventeen and I was fifteen, he walked into my fatherās grand house, dressed in his best suit, nervous but determined and proud, his hands clean for once, his boots polished.
He asked my father for my hand in marriage. He asked my father for my hand and I thought he would say yes. Daddy always thought he was a hard worker, called him a real good sport.
He stood before my father and said, āI love her, sir. Iāll make her happy. Give me a chance. I ain't got much now, but one day I will. I'll give her what she's got and more.ā
My father just laughed.
āBoy,ā he said, shaking his head, āsheās not meant for men like you.ā
Jason left that night, whispering a promise against my skin.
"Iāll come back for you, I'll be great. Be a man like how your daddy wants, rich and proper, he'll have to say yes."
I waited, god knows I did.
I wrote letters to the last address he gave me every single day.
For five years. Till I turned twenty. I never looked at another man, I had my Jason.
I waited for him to reply, fought off suitors and pressure from my mother. I waited for a reply, that he was coming soon, that he missed me.
I waited.
And my Jaybird never came back.
My father loved me.
He regretted turning Jason away five years later, when I still refused to marry. He never forced me to marry, not even when the years passed and my suitors grew frustrated with my refusals.
He saw my misery, my longing and admitted, āI shouldāve said yes. I shouldāve let you have him.ā
He thought my Jason was a passing infatuation, he wondered what people would say about his daughter marrying the stable boy.
He wished he saw my love for Jason sooner.
But love wasnāt enough to keep the debt collectors away.
I knew something was wrong when my father began to look stressed, when my parents began to argue, and when I heard my mother cry herself to sleep after selling her favorite pearls.
My father was going to loose everything all at once.
The steel business wasn't what it used to be.
And then suddenly, Bruce Wayne arrived like a knight in shining armor.
He was older than me, 18 years my senior. Refined, powerful, and dangerously charming.
And most importantly, rich. He was exactly what I needed to stop my family's fall from grace.
Bruce courted me like a gentleman.
He sent roses every morning, took me to the finest restaurants, whispered in my ear about a future where I would never want for anything again.
He was patient.
He never forced me to love him.
He only asked for one thing.
"Let me take care of you."
I kept Bruce waiting for three months. All I could do was think of Jason. I knew he was not returning, that he either was dead or found some other pretty girl to make promises to.
I told myself love was not enough to fill an empty stomach and keep my parents happy like they did for me.
I told myself that Jason Todd was not coming back to save me, yet each morning I woke up waiting for a letter or pebbles thrown at my window.
After four months of courting, I decided.
And at twenty, I became Mrs. Bruce Wayne.
Jason Todd never sent me a single letter, but I still dreamed of my Jaybird even as I looked at the massive ring on my finger.
OKKKKK SO WHAT YA'LL THINK??? CONTINUE OR DELETE??? FLOP OR BOP? SEND IN ASKS!!!! I MISS YALL! THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ROMANCE W JASON AND BRUCE. I REALLY LIKE THIS AU!!!! WHAT DO YALL THINK IS GONNA HAPPEN? SORRU IF IT SUCKS OR DOESNT MAKE SENSE, I'M SO HIGH BRO.
BE NICE PLEASE, I'M IN PAIN! THIS IS NOT EDITED OR PROOF READ.
Dick, to the Titans: OK this is my little brother, everyone has to be so nice to him!
Jason, 6'4, built like a double fridge and holding a gun: Hey.
The Titans:
Years later.
Dick, to the Titans again: OK this is my even littler brother, everyone be super super nice to him!
Duke, 6'2, built like a linebacker and lit up like a glo stick: Yo.
The Titans:
Years after that.
Dick, again, to the Titans: OK this is my littlest baby brother, everyone has to be so sweet to him! He's a baby!
Damian, 18 and 6'0, made of pure muscle and holding a sword: Greetings.
The Titans: ...where are you finding these brothers.
Not an ask but I wanted to congratulate you on probably having the most chapters in this particular fandom!!( As far as I know) I just wanted you to know that we appreciate the hard work you're putting in. So please take care of yourself and remember to relax and enjoy your own peace once in a while. Thank you again!! Love ya š
awwwwwww thank you omg youāre so sweet ššš ilyt šš«¶
I love the new mafia au but pls finish the bet on losing dogs
no donāt worry i will!! itās just the i wrote 2 chapters and they got deleted i literally got so angry. l could not force myself to write anything for it bc of how mad i was ššš
I know this was unintentional but you completely forgot about Duke lol, unless he isnāt part of the Batfam yet in this timeline? Iāve personally taken it as Duke is the only one who gets along with Reader and although they arenāt close, just giving Reader awkward bare minimum attention instantly makes them the closest family member to Reader.
ok so i DID forget Duke ššš bye idk why i literally alway forget him
iām gonna go back and fix that donāt worry! but he wonāt be mentioned much simply because he really only moves into the manor at 16 and because heās 3-4 years older than Damian, heās about a year older than reader so he came to the manor only a couple months before Tiff and around the readerās 15th birthday. Reader doesnāt have time to try and bond with him and is kind of jealous of him at first. he just got into the family so easily and is just casually doing family game night and movie night with them so reader kind of resents him for not having to work or āproveā himself.
Duke and reader are chill, i wouldnāt say theyāre particularly close but he does acknowledge her way more than the rest of the family and does genuinely care for her. Heās just so caught up in trying to fit in with the other batkids that he sometimes forgets reader!
lmk if you have any other suggestions or if i got anything else wrong šš format might be weird bc iām typing on my phone in the car!
Jason: āIām NOTHING like Bruce, okay? Weāre not even that similar. Thatās all in your head.ā
Dick, perched on Jasonās couch watching him gear up, sipping a Batburger shake: āso youāre NOT about to go deal with your emotions by going out on patrol and beating people up?ā
Jason: *sets down the brass knuckles he was just holding* *stares off into the distance*
Jason: āThese are justā¦for my ā look, I donāt like your fucking tone, Richard.ā
How u doing today alsooo do u do those things were anonymous people can clam an emoji? If so can I be āļø
not too great actually bc i thought i posted the next ch of IBLD and This is me trying and i was so confused as to why no one liked it only to find out TUMBLR DELETED MY SHIT AGAIN
but yeah ofc you can be āļø