Batboys x Reader

Fake News (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Hello! Here's just a quick question for anyone interested in my thoughts. Does anyone think that Brendon Urie's personality kinda fits either Jason's or Dick's. I guess it kinda depends on his mood but I'm kinda leaning toward Jason. Anyway, this was requested by @WinterFrost250. It is based off prompt 5 "Stop looking at me like I did something wrong, I didn't". Hope you enjoy! ❤️.
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(Y/N) pov
I massage my throbbing temples as I hesitantly glance at another homemade flash card. The words seem to blur together and create more confusion to my tired mind. Mr Davis, claiming that I needed to catch up, is giving me, no one else, a large exam worth 65% if my final grade. I blink rapidly and press my forehead onto the card as if the action can imprint it in my memory. I groan and glance at the clock next to me. 11.00pm. I lean back in my chair and glance at the ceiling before forcing my gaze back down toward the table. I stifle a yawn and rub my bleary eyes. My thoughts becoming groggy and incoherent.

There is a tenseness in my muscles that makes me more like a mannequin instead of human. I want so much to melt onto the soft mattress near me, wrap myself in warm blankets, and drift into the world of dreams. Yet my brain is a violent whirl of stupidity, trying to organize the chaos in my life. Of course, the task is pointless, my life is far too chaotic for a human brain to take the many factors that come together to form just one average day for me. Though my brain knows all this it remains stubborn in its attempts to protect me, to ensure my survival. Ironic really, what I need to survive tomorrow is sleep, at least six hours would be nice. But for that to happen I will have to be out in less than five minutes and there is no way in hell Bruce would let me skip another patrol so I can rest.

I let out a shaky sigh and begin to study for the test once more but as I click on the app for the internet I notice a news article concerning my relationship with Damian. As the minute's pass, I begin to gain comments on my social media and YouTube account about t. 'Damian Wayne Cheating On (Y/N) (L/N)!'. The amount of emotions that spread through my mind like ink on paper feels as if it's too much. I take in deep, ragged breath before I place my hands, enclosed together, onto the table. That's when I decide to do something I haven't done in a long time. I begin to write everything down. Everything that I have kept inside me for so long, everything that I've been dying to say but have been too afraid of.

Overwhelmed, overworked, overpaid
I'm on top of the world, sittin' pretty on a stack
But the static still cracks in my veins
At the bottom of the universe, feelin' all the weight
People die for this
People lie for this
People suck and fuck some guy for this
Pay the toll for this
Sell their soul for this
Play my part, but what's my roll in this
I'm not built for this
All the guilt of this
And I don't think I can deal with this
I'm too old for this
Gonna fold from this
People starving and I get gold for this?
You all chalk me up as some whiny fuck who's stressed by success like, "my life sucks"
I get it, I know
It's such a conundrum
I get what I want, but I can't have much fun with it
It's not the fame or the money I'm yearnin'
I don't give a fuck about what I've been earnin'
But each day I wake up more blessed that I'm learnin'
Of all these people, I'm least to deserve it
I don't deserve it
I try to be perfect
I'll never be perfect
I'm not worth it
I keep lookin' for answers, I swear that I'm searchin'
But come up short, and I give up quick
'Cause if I found it, I think I'd be scared of it
You don't see the scene that's behind the screen
And I urge you all to be aware of it
It's an interesting dichotomy of monetized sincerity
Stir up my insecurity with constant uncertainty
Generation of anxiety
The "look at me" society
Dubiety of piety
The gods all suffer silently
I'm sorry for my obsession with attention
I have an ungodly fear of rejection
My apprehension and objection is the viral infection
Of dollars and followers in place of affection
What I need is a human connection
Not blue light and a foggy reflection of my misconception of my own perception
A result of way too much introspection
They find my disinterest interesting
My depression, a funny thing
My decline is relatable
People love that I hate myself
Yeah, they love that I hate myself
People love that I hate myself
People love that I hate myself
People love that I hate myself
I climbed out of my head
And watched myself implode
A thought without a body
Ought to be a shot to take a load
Off my brain is poisoned
And I'm searching for the antidote
But every time I find it
My defences scream "oh, no you don't!"
Woah
But it's fine
No, really I'm fine
It's just a matter of time
You'll lose your mind
And not be fine from time to time
I'm not crazy
But I feel crazy all a sudden
In a city never seein'
Snow or rain or leaves in autumn
Lose yourself in seasons
Not remembering that you forgot 'em
Knocking on my door
I can't confront 'em so I lock them out
But I don't mind
No, I really don't mind
Cause believe it or not
It feels good to be forgot
From time to time
So forget me
And please, God, forgive me
If you feel a touched underwhelmed
By all my overwhelming negativity
Who am I and when?
When's my work day end
And where does me begin?
Are these my colleagues or my friends?
On a scale of ten to one
Do you hate who I've become?
'cause I hate who I've become
I'm sorry for who I've become

My mood ricochets between low and lower. Any and all energy or motivation I had to get done the mountain of work that awaited me done is gone. I sit still on my chair, with no strength to move. My shaky fingers finally come to stop after running restlessly through my messed up hair. I bite down on my lip trying not to burst into tears. This not going to help, it's not going to change anything. I know anyone would laugh at it if they were present here right now. My heart still won't stop racing at one million miles per minute. I crumple the piece of paper in my fist and throw it away with all my strength. I shout curses at it and finally let out my tears. Do you just act alright because people would think you are over-reacting?

Damian pov
(Y/N) and I have a specific connection. Some people say it is because we were destined to be together but when I was a child Mother taught me that a person's belief in destiny was because they were scared of the unknown future they have ahead of them. (Y/N) and I can always tell each other emotions, even when we are apart. It's like a void. A dark void. A never-ending dark void that consumes everything, so I'm left feeling nothing. Empty. These emotions are the only thing I can think about while Father debriefs us. Each of the annoyances I call brothers glance at me every few seconds like they were waiting for my input for the night. I guess Father noticed my quietness due to his glances as well.

"Can someone tell me what the actual fuck is wrong with Damian?" Jason finally asks.

"Is it (Y/N)?" Dick questions.

"I have other matters to attend to and this meeting seems unimportant at this moment. Father, I will debrief with you later." I exit the room and head for my beloved.

As each passing moment, I feel her emotions getting more and more overwhelming. My footsteps getting faster until I am sprinting through the halls of the mansion until I find my beautiful beloved. She sits at her desk staring at a lone piece of crumpled paper on the floor. I can understand the depth of pain that is sitting below her skin but I don't know the cause. I cautiously walk toward her and place a palm on her cheek as a type of comfort.

"Beloved tell me what's bothering you. Allow me to help handle the heavy burdens you carry upon your shoulders and bare some weight to lighten yours." I mutter into her ear.

"Damian..." She whispers.

We stare into each other's eyes and once again begin to fall into the depths of love. If I were someone else it would have seemed like she was fine but deep inside me I feel her pain. She turns away in shame and sits on her bed. I've never seen her sit like this, so deflated. Her loose shoulders shake, her hands hanging low, not attempting to conceal or even wipe away her tears. Aside from her reddening face, she is so grey looking and her hair is as dishevelled as a birds nest. I've seen others cry like this and in every case, it had been a transition from a person with hope to one without. It's a kind of crying that shows the child underneath, that the hurt has cut right back through the protective layers acquired in maturity.

We have both held each other before, but never like this. There is something so warm, something that feels right. (Y/N) lets her body sag, her muscles becoming loose. In this embrace, I can feel her worries lose their keen sting and her optimism raise its head from the dirt slowly and cautiously. Perhaps the hope had been there all along, but without some love, it had been trapped, like crystals in a stone. I brush her hair back with my fingers and kiss her gently. (Y/N) pulls away and wipes her eyes, her expression giving me guilt.

"Please...Stop." She whispers.

"Stop what beloved?" I ask.

"Stop looking at me like I did something wrong, I didn't." She continues.

"You do no wrong in my eyes," I reassure.

She hums a quiet response and yawns. My eyes linger on the piece of paper that lays on the floor only inches away from my reach. I glance at my beloved and notice how her body is now limp against mine and her breathing has slowed dramatically. I carefully remove myself without disturbing her and pick up the discarded piece of paper. I read it over and over attempting to grasp more of an understanding of my beloveds feelings. Eventually, I sigh and place the paper on her desk for her to find in the morning. I exit her room and head to the Batcave to inform Father that (Y/N) will be taking a break from patrol for a while and to also continue our debriefing.