Aww! This Is My First Time Being Someone Else Fav!

NOO

I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

summary :batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

part 1 of die young

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

- since 2015 , school shootings in the U.S has significantly skyrocketed in comparison to every other decade .

- according to the NCES (National Centre for Education Statistics) during 2020 - 21, there was 93 school shootings , resulting in 43 deaths & 50 injuries.

- there was 332 shooting incidents that occurred in k-12 schools in 2024 , this incident resulted in 267 injuries & fatalities.

- active school shootings typically occur in high-school - about 61.8% .

- many parents grieve the lost of their child , many never recover and end up living their life miserably . This is encouragement to help stop school shootings to prevent innocent children from dying.

Bruce stands in the manor's foyer , his face is maimed with bruises and has grime stuck on it . One hand clutches his bat mask tightly as he stared into the darkness encompassing the long hallway before him. His chest plate is battered , its bat symbol is no longer recognizable , his once pristine cape is now tattered with bullet holes .

He looks so dead - and he feels it , he feels the emptiness. He alone went on patrol tonight , his children did argue - offered to join him tonight, but he declined, and some stubbornly disregarded his declination and attempted to go anyways, but Lord thank Alfred stopping them. Only the two of them understood why he had to go tonight.

They shouldn't have to see how brutal he was tonight - none of them should - none of them should have to witness how he practically almost brutalized some goon for pointing a gun at him - that the sight of that oh so familiar gun brought back memories of him cradling your mutilated body that dreaded day. Or the way he threw rational to the wind as he chased after two face like a mad man for an hour only to dump him in front of blackgate like the scum he was.

He trudges through the darkness of the manor - embraces the quietness and darkness as he slums his tired body against the dining table where his cold dinner sat. He feels bile rising in his throat when he realizes it was placed in front of the same chair you used to always eat in.

He falls to his knees - tears brimming as the memory of your happy small self feeding your plushy a cookie in that same seat. He can practically hear your giggles and the familiar sound of the chair wobbling as you swung your little feet back and forth.

He blinks - and the memory is gone - you are gone - no longer in front of him. He shuffles back on his feet frantically, and like a scared man, he runs away because that was too real - it felt too real - it felt like you were there - like you were home again.

He stumbles up the stairs, and his feet carry him down a familiar route . Even now - when his body is in overdrive - in a panic state - his body still takes him back to you . He stands in front of a familiar door . Yours.

It's lower half is covered in sparkly stickers and a doodled portrait of three stick figures holding hands sticks out. His hands practically shake violently as he pushes open your door .

You stand in front of him , you're wearing the same dress from that day , your hair is styled in the same pig tails he put them and your pink backpack is slung on your shoulders the same way Alfred dropped you off in. You look at him and beamed, " Hello daddy !!" You exclaimed as you embraced his legs - too short to reach his waist.

Bruce doesn't hesitate to crouch down and hug you back , arms encasing you like the precious jewel you were . He feels you snuggling into him like you always did . He pulls you in tighter, and the feel of your familiar warmth and the scent of vanilla perfume fills him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he savors everything , " Sweetheart, you're okay !" He exclaims happily as he observes you . He has to force his head to crane back to look at your snuggled up form. Your cute little self turns to him confused , " Why won't I be okay, Daddy ?" You questioned with a tilt of a head as you looked at him.

Bruce blinks and you were gone . He looks down at himself to only reveal his exhausted body slumped to the floor - the same way he did that night when he grieved that night and it's then he starts to choke on his sobs.

How cruel- how dare life torture him like this ? He chokes on his tears even more as he looks around your room - frantically as if to prove to himself you're still here and that was just a nightmare .

It's empty- despite all the stuffed animals , the scattered toys strewn about , the walls filled with your favorite books to pictures and drawings. There , in the middle of your room laid an empty bed - deprived of the usual light of your nightlight you always put on before bed and most important- deprived of your sleepy figure cuddling the mountain of plushies.

Everything is still left untouched since that day they lost you . He feels a drop in the pit of his stomach as he does a once over of your room - you aren't here yet that felt too real - you sounded to real - too alive to be gone .

He forces himself to stand and close your room - he knows Alfred would have his head if he didn't - the old man considers your room as a place of sanctuary - something that had to be preserved and Bruce would never argue with him because he to believes it as sacred himself.

He forces himself to trudge up the hallway towards his own room and open his door . He looks down the hallway one more time - hoping to see you come running after him with your plushy in hand to ask him to read to you or maybe tuck you in.

He waited for a long time, and he was only greeted by cold looming darkness. He wipes away any more brimming tears before he enters his room - only once the door is shut and he collapses on his bed does he allow himself to succumb to his emptiness.

The golden rays adorned the manor angelically , everyone is wide awake and present at the table . Alfred distracts himself from the temptation to drown himself in his own misery with alcohol but chooses to fuss over the children instead.

He feels numb - he feels angry - he feels everything but nothing at the same time . He masks his irritation by choosing to focus on scrambling Bruce's eggs. He won't tell anyone - not even Bruce that the sight of cold dinner sat in front of the chair you used to sit in every morning and evening to eat irked him -

It felt like a sick cruel joke from God as he mocked - no egged him of your absence. He would never tell anyone how he stood there - eyeing that dinner and that chair as he cried his eyes out before he mustered whatever courage he had left to pick it up and throw it promptly in the trash.

He supposed one of the kids innocently placed it there for Bruce last night - something you would definitely do - because you were just that kind and sweet of a person.

Alfred forces himself to breathe when the smell of burnt toast meets his nostrils. He regains his composure and swiftly throws the toast in the bin before restarting.

Bruce enters the dining room - face a bit somber and dull. Bruce has to internally pray that none of his children questions why - he doesn't know what he'd do if he was to be subjected to another interrogation. He slips into his seat , making sure not to eye the familiar , empty seat next to him because he knows if he only does he'd simply break down.

His children immediately filled the sullen air with their happy chatter. He watches in silence, as Jason and Damian fight one another over waffles , Dick and Tim are discussing a movie they want to see , the girls are talking with Duke about some drama with a classmate they knew apparently.

Alfred stands behind him and set his breakfast , "Morning Master Bruce" he greets. " Morning Alfred," he greets back . Bruce detects the lack of 'good' in Alfred's greeting - though Bruce understands why since if it truly were a good morning you would of been here with them.

" Hey B do you want to join us in a shooting range this evening ?" Dick asks - breaking the silence. Bruce felt his world still around him - in the background - you can hear the sound of clattering utensils as Alfred drops whatever he was doing at the sudden inquiry.

Bruce feels himself hyperventilating at the thought of any of his children near that devilish thing called a gun. He's lost too damn much to it - so for the sheer audacity of Dick to suggest this - feels like a cruel joke. He feels the world consuming him as he merely glances at the empty chair next to him and there - a memory of you eating pancakes while singing replays in front of him . This one was the last morning - the last breakfast him and Alfred had with you.

You look at him and flash your innocent smile at him , " Do you want a pancake papa ?" You ask as you held up a pancake towards him. Bruce has to force his eyes to blink before he loses himself and starts to break down.

Your figure disappears once again and then Bruce turns towards Dick , face void of any emotion. Seeing you once again only finalizes his decision , " No and you aren't going there" Bruce says firmly. Everyone at the table stills and looks at him - defiantly. " What the fuck Bruce it's a shooting range it's not that serious" Jason says . " Exactly father if you don't want to join us just say so" Damian says matter of fact.

Bruce feels his blood freeze. " I said no, and not one of you is going " he says firmly - his eyes narrowing as he stares at each one of them. Everyone looks at him - an unspoken defiance and challenge.

" Fine be that way B ," Dick says - fustrated that Bruce had to shut down a family bonding moment. Alfred approaches the table , his face is void of any emotion as well, eyes distant as he pours everyone a class of marmalade .

" I advise you listen to your father young masters" he says finally. Jason practically rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back , " Not when he's being such an asshole Alfred" Jason quips before leaving. The girls and Duke follow him suit - disappointed at the outcome of this morning as they too were excited to go let off steam .

Tim rocks back in his chair before shaking his head in disappointment as he stares at Bruce, him and Dick finally got up and left, storming off elsewhere. Damian was the last to leave - ensuring he glared at his father . Bruce met his glare- equally defiant as he watches his son storm pass him - not before shoving the empty chair back into the table.

Alfred immediately launches forward to brace the chair's impact against the table . Bruce sits there , head hung low as he stared at your chair longingly.

" Oh sweet heart daddy doesn't know what to do anymore "

like + share + comment pls !!

thank you for reading hope you have a good day!

Taglist :@itsmossy @sugarrush-blush @shirp-collector-of-fixations @anteroz @cxcilla @shynerdtriumph @amber-content @azulesworld

I'm sorry noonie

I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

summary :batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

part 1 of die young

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

- since 2015 , school shootings in the U.S has significantly skyrocketed in comparison to every other decade .

- according to the NCES (National Centre for Education Statistics) during 2020 - 21, there was 93 school shootings , resulting in 43 deaths & 50 injuries.

- there was 332 shooting incidents that occurred in k-12 schools in 2024 , this incident resulted in 267 injuries & fatalities.

- active school shootings typically occur in high-school - about 61.8% .

- many parents grieve the lost of their child , many never recover and end up living their life miserably . This is encouragement to help stop school shootings to prevent innocent children from dying.

Bruce stands in the manor's foyer , his face is maimed with bruises and has grime stuck on it . One hand clutches his bat mask tightly as he stared into the darkness encompassing the long hallway before him. His chest plate is battered , its bat symbol is no longer recognizable , his once pristine cape is now tattered with bullet holes .

He looks so dead - and he feels it , he feels the emptiness. He alone went on patrol tonight , his children did argue - offered to join him tonight, but he declined, and some stubbornly disregarded his declination and attempted to go anyways, but Lord thank Alfred stopping them. Only the two of them understood why he had to go tonight.

They shouldn't have to see how brutal he was tonight - none of them should - none of them should have to witness how he practically almost brutalized some goon for pointing a gun at him - that the sight of that oh so familiar gun brought back memories of him cradling your mutilated body that dreaded day. Or the way he threw rational to the wind as he chased after two face like a mad man for an hour only to dump him in front of blackgate like the scum he was.

He trudges through the darkness of the manor - embraces the quietness and darkness as he slums his tired body against the dining table where his cold dinner sat. He feels bile rising in his throat when he realizes it was placed in front of the same chair you used to always eat in.

He falls to his knees - tears brimming as the memory of your happy small self feeding your plushy a cookie in that same seat. He can practically hear your giggles and the familiar sound of the chair wobbling as you swung your little feet back and forth.

He blinks - and the memory is gone - you are gone - no longer in front of him. He shuffles back on his feet frantically, and like a scared man, he runs away because that was too real - it felt too real - it felt like you were there - like you were home again.

He stumbles up the stairs, and his feet carry him down a familiar route . Even now - when his body is in overdrive - in a panic state - his body still takes him back to you . He stands in front of a familiar door . Yours.

It's lower half is covered in sparkly stickers and a doodled portrait of three stick figures holding hands sticks out. His hands practically shake violently as he pushes open your door .

You stand in front of him , you're wearing the same dress from that day , your hair is styled in the same pig tails he put them and your pink backpack is slung on your shoulders the same way Alfred dropped you off in. You look at him and beamed, " Hello daddy !!" You exclaimed as you embraced his legs - too short to reach his waist.

Bruce doesn't hesitate to crouch down and hug you back , arms encasing you like the precious jewel you were . He feels you snuggling into him like you always did . He pulls you in tighter, and the feel of your familiar warmth and the scent of vanilla perfume fills him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he savors everything , " Sweetheart, you're okay !" He exclaims happily as he observes you . He has to force his head to crane back to look at your snuggled up form. Your cute little self turns to him confused , " Why won't I be okay, Daddy ?" You questioned with a tilt of a head as you looked at him.

Bruce blinks and you were gone . He looks down at himself to only reveal his exhausted body slumped to the floor - the same way he did that night when he grieved that night and it's then he starts to choke on his sobs.

How cruel- how dare life torture him like this ? He chokes on his tears even more as he looks around your room - frantically as if to prove to himself you're still here and that was just a nightmare .

It's empty- despite all the stuffed animals , the scattered toys strewn about , the walls filled with your favorite books to pictures and drawings. There , in the middle of your room laid an empty bed - deprived of the usual light of your nightlight you always put on before bed and most important- deprived of your sleepy figure cuddling the mountain of plushies.

Everything is still left untouched since that day they lost you . He feels a drop in the pit of his stomach as he does a once over of your room - you aren't here yet that felt too real - you sounded to real - too alive to be gone .

He forces himself to stand and close your room - he knows Alfred would have his head if he didn't - the old man considers your room as a place of sanctuary - something that had to be preserved and Bruce would never argue with him because he to believes it as sacred himself.

He forces himself to trudge up the hallway towards his own room and open his door . He looks down the hallway one more time - hoping to see you come running after him with your plushy in hand to ask him to read to you or maybe tuck you in.

He waited for a long time, and he was only greeted by cold looming darkness. He wipes away any more brimming tears before he enters his room - only once the door is shut and he collapses on his bed does he allow himself to succumb to his emptiness.

The golden rays adorned the manor angelically , everyone is wide awake and present at the table . Alfred distracts himself from the temptation to drown himself in his own misery with alcohol but chooses to fuss over the children instead.

He feels numb - he feels angry - he feels everything but nothing at the same time . He masks his irritation by choosing to focus on scrambling Bruce's eggs. He won't tell anyone - not even Bruce that the sight of cold dinner sat in front of the chair you used to sit in every morning and evening to eat irked him -

It felt like a sick cruel joke from God as he mocked - no egged him of your absence. He would never tell anyone how he stood there - eyeing that dinner and that chair as he cried his eyes out before he mustered whatever courage he had left to pick it up and throw it promptly in the trash.

He supposed one of the kids innocently placed it there for Bruce last night - something you would definitely do - because you were just that kind and sweet of a person.

Alfred forces himself to breathe when the smell of burnt toast meets his nostrils. He regains his composure and swiftly throws the toast in the bin before restarting.

Bruce enters the dining room - face a bit somber and dull. Bruce has to internally pray that none of his children questions why - he doesn't know what he'd do if he was to be subjected to another interrogation. He slips into his seat , making sure not to eye the familiar , empty seat next to him because he knows if he only does he'd simply break down.

His children immediately filled the sullen air with their happy chatter. He watches in silence, as Jason and Damian fight one another over waffles , Dick and Tim are discussing a movie they want to see , the girls are talking with Duke about some drama with a classmate they knew apparently.

Alfred stands behind him and set his breakfast , "Morning Master Bruce" he greets. " Morning Alfred," he greets back . Bruce detects the lack of 'good' in Alfred's greeting - though Bruce understands why since if it truly were a good morning you would of been here with them.

" Hey B do you want to join us in a shooting range this evening ?" Dick asks - breaking the silence. Bruce felt his world still around him - in the background - you can hear the sound of clattering utensils as Alfred drops whatever he was doing at the sudden inquiry.

Bruce feels himself hyperventilating at the thought of any of his children near that devilish thing called a gun. He's lost too damn much to it - so for the sheer audacity of Dick to suggest this - feels like a cruel joke. He feels the world consuming him as he merely glances at the empty chair next to him and there - a memory of you eating pancakes while singing replays in front of him . This one was the last morning - the last breakfast him and Alfred had with you.

You look at him and flash your innocent smile at him , " Do you want a pancake papa ?" You ask as you held up a pancake towards him. Bruce has to force his eyes to blink before he loses himself and starts to break down.

Your figure disappears once again and then Bruce turns towards Dick , face void of any emotion. Seeing you once again only finalizes his decision , " No and you aren't going there" Bruce says firmly. Everyone at the table stills and looks at him - defiantly. " What the fuck Bruce it's a shooting range it's not that serious" Jason says . " Exactly father if you don't want to join us just say so" Damian says matter of fact.

Bruce feels his blood freeze. " I said no, and not one of you is going " he says firmly - his eyes narrowing as he stares at each one of them. Everyone looks at him - an unspoken defiance and challenge.

" Fine be that way B ," Dick says - fustrated that Bruce had to shut down a family bonding moment. Alfred approaches the table , his face is void of any emotion as well, eyes distant as he pours everyone a class of marmalade .

" I advise you listen to your father young masters" he says finally. Jason practically rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back , " Not when he's being such an asshole Alfred" Jason quips before leaving. The girls and Duke follow him suit - disappointed at the outcome of this morning as they too were excited to go let off steam .

Tim rocks back in his chair before shaking his head in disappointment as he stares at Bruce, him and Dick finally got up and left, storming off elsewhere. Damian was the last to leave - ensuring he glared at his father . Bruce met his glare- equally defiant as he watches his son storm pass him - not before shoving the empty chair back into the table.

Alfred immediately launches forward to brace the chair's impact against the table . Bruce sits there , head hung low as he stared at your chair longingly.

" Oh sweet heart daddy doesn't know what to do anymore "

like + share + comment pls !!

thank you for reading hope you have a good day!

Taglist :@itsmossy @sugarrush-blush @shirp-collector-of-fixations @anteroz @cxcilla @shynerdtriumph @amber-content @azulesworld

Hi, I have a batfam x neglected reader angst request.

Reader is the neglected and misunderstood daughter of Bruce. She is older than tim but younger than jason. Reader is the spoiled daughter and a family disappointment.

Atleast according to the batfam.The scenario takes place on a gala night. Reader left the party early without informing the Waynes. She comes home red eyed and tired.

A reporter who wanted some story just decided to make his guess as the truth behind the story. He published in his newspaper that ms. Wayne ditched gala for getting wasted and some wild night if u get my drift.

At the morning this becomes a big scandal. Reader who just wakes up is confused on y the batfam is glaring at her instead of ignoring her. The family exchanged some hateful words while reader was speechless in confusion.

Bruce is so angry that he locked her in the basement without knowing she is afraid of dark and she is claustrophobic .Poor reader who had a panic attack and lost her consciousness within some time. Suddenly a news breaks out of a orphanage owner sueing the news reporter who started this issue for slandering reader.

Turns out due to being ignored reader turn to a orphanage as a volunteer just so she can get some love. This has been going on for years (working on a orphanage) and she loves all the kids there and kids love her too.

Especially the bond between a little boy and her is so special. Turns out she left the gala because he was met with an accident and rushed to the hospital.

She was red eyed because she was crying for that boy and tired because she was running from gala to hospital, hospital to orphanage.The batfam feeling worse when they know the truth.

Dick rushing to open the basement remembering reader being locked there. He opens the door to find her unconscious. Rest u can imagine.

Forgot to add that she spends the money on orphanage which they misunderstood as her acting spoiled.

I hope you like this prompt and write this request 🙏

I love this angsty fix omg and I damn well know dami is gon a be so jelly of that lil boy omg

Bro.. I just found out that I'm not really fit. I gotta start working out 😔

-👻anon

Bro same man ( I scarf down cheetosnbefore writing this)

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

a/n : this story is a wip ( work in process )

part 2 , part 3

Reader's POV

Beginning

Everyone knows biologically , a child needs a father and mother to come into existence . Growing up I had exactly that , a mother and a father . I had what many would consider a good childhood , a mom who brushed my hair everyday before I went to school , a mother who would have prepared meals and would have read me several stories . I had a father who would pick me up everyday and let me get a treat from the nearby parlor everyday after school. We certainly weren’t rich but we had enough to make do and I was content with it - I was content with my life until life struck.

My mother got laid off from her job - it was some run down mill cashier job at an old mechanics pit stop but it brought in money no matter how grimy the place was . I remember my younger self sat in front of the television when it was broadcasted - Joker , Prince of Gotham held three hostages at gunpoint in the shops and sadly despite Batman’s efforts , one hostage suffered a car falling onto their legs - crushing them instantly - the news anchor panned their camera onto the car and how it’s green front bumper was smeared in crimson blood.

Since then mom had been home while father went to work . It was fun at first , we had dinner earlier than usual , mom started back sewing and she even took up gardening since she loved planting tomatoes in our backyard garden . Everything was good but gradually - mom began feeling trapped like a bird in a cage . It started off slow - mum and dad arguing every night after dinner , sneering at each other as they walked past one another . It evolved into dad sleeping on the couch and mom sleeping in their bed . I was young and too naive - I assumed like the silly little girl I was , that mum and dad were just arguing about the dishes in the sink.

One day, it got extremely bad. It was a Tuesday morning and I had ran into mum’s arm’s , comb in hand, waiting for her to brush my hair like every other morning but instead she screamed at me to get out of her face . I ran away, of course, crying and brushing my own hair since then. Every day since that point had been utter agony - mother grew even more distant - began shouting , screaming at everything and everybody .Every day was a new struggle , she had no luck finding a new job, and there was no luck of her getting any better .

One day , dad just hugged me before he left out the front door . He kept muttering ‘sorrys’ and ‘i love yous’ and he kept weeping . I recall hugging him back , telling him it was okay, and he just smiled at me and left . He hadn't come back since. Mother grew furious that night, and for the first time - she screamed at me , blamed me , cursed me , cried about how I ruined everything, and then she choked me . I remember my young , frail body clawing at her tight grip desperately - pleading with her to let me go, but she didn’t let up . She kept squeezing me, and I remember going in between conscious and unconsciousness - I remember hearing police sirens blazing in front of our house.

I don't remember anything after that point . Memories were all a blur, but I recall a police officer handing me off to Mr. Wayne at his porch step. I remember the look of uncertainty, the look of pain and burden flashing in his eyes when he looked down on me . I remember him holding me by my elbow and guiding me through his foyer until he reached his butler.

I watched them both converse , the butler glanced at me every other moment. Eventually , Mr. Wayne leaves me alone with the butler and returns deeper into the mansion. The butler smiles down at me, though, and I just looked at him as he guides me down some halls and into a room.

It's been a full week , I've only ever known my room , the garden, and school. I haven't met anyone besides Alfred - the butler and my teachers. Alfred kept assuring me that I had brothers who would love to meet me and that my 'dad' , Mr.Wayne was busy, so I should bear him patience.

I hadn't really cared about Mr. Wayne's absence , as far as I considered my father, was out there somewhere and had left me, and I had no interest in having siblings. I hadn't told Alfred any of that, though - I had been silent since I had arrived here . Two weeks passed, and Alfred introduced me to someone named 'Ricard' , Mr. Wayne's eldest .

This Richard had given me a tight-lipped smile and a half hug that I didn't reciprocate . I could tell he felt uncomfortable and forced, and I respected his boundaries because I would of reacted the same way if I got introduced to my new supposed 'sibling' .

Alfred had told me that Richard lives away and visits when he can since he too has work . Since then, I haven't met anyone . Maybe if you count seeing Mr. Wayne walking in and out the foyer then maybe .

Months passed, and it's been the same process - I wake up , scarf down whatever Alfred makes , go to school , come home , sleep, and repeat. Now and again, Richard may perhaps drop by, but our meeting were just exchanging pleasantries before we go our own ways.

I was still mourning my parents. It's weird to mourn when they aren't dead. Today I had I.T class , meaning I had access to a laptop . Using what minimum sites I could , I dug up that my mother was admitted to Arkham asylum and was deemed ' mentally unstable ' . It's weird seeing her in that old , grimy straight jacket and her worn hands in silver cuffs . It's weird that she is the same person who used to bake me fresh cookies when I was sad and used to so attentively braid my hair everyday - It's weird to know that somehow my pure , kind mother somehow turned into what she is.

I hadn't found out nothing about my father - reports just suggested he moved to another city or somewhat - some speculated he manipulated her into the abuse - but I knew my father went far away to start a new life - a new life that hadn't involve me .

It stings every time I think about that, though , that my dad thought I was so much of a burden he had to leave me to start anew . A part of me loathes him - wants to tear him out , another part of me wants to cry and scream ' how could he ', but the biggest part of me has already grown numb to everything around me and has accepted the fact that it's better off being on your own.

Months continue to pass on - nothing really changed , I haven't 'bonded' with anyone at the mansion , Alfred keeps making excuses for their wariness and coldness. I discovered through him that recently, one of Mr.Wayne's children , Jason, had recently passed due to a mishap with the Joker . He hadn't gone into full detail, but I understood the pain and grief - the pain of losing your loved ones and having to bury them.

Days blurred into one another, but as recently, I have been seeing advertisements for a youth camp. It's new to be supposedly based in Russia and aims to teach children survival skills, and for some odd reason, it called out to me . I became further intrigued when on one particular evening , my English teacher pulled me across after class and handed me a pamphlet for it , I remembered her saying " I thought ...maybe you can use this Y/N maybe they can help you " . I remember taking it home and staring at it for a good while.

That same day - apparently we got a new member to the family named Tim , I saw him walk in the foyer , Mr. Wayne's hands practically draped over his shoulder with a proud 'dad' smile on his face . I exchanged pleasantries with both, but the Tim guy was giving me a dirty look .

After that night , after careful consideration, I decided to join this youth camp but in order to do so I would of course need money so that very nigh I applied to some jobs . A week passed since Tim and I didn't really get along . He kept glaring at me, and I just kept ignoring him .

Apparently he didn't like that and one morning when I was leaving for school he pulled me across and with a nasty snare said , " can't believe Bruce and I bust our asses every night protecting the city and people like you get to squander away - you know for someone who uses so much of Bruce's resources I don't understand why he hasn't gotten rid of you ".

I slapped him in response and walked out - I won't and don't tolerate shit - especially from someone so far up their ass . Alfred walked in on us in the foyer and began lecturing me on the spot, but I had a cold, hard look - challenging him . Alfred just tutted and carried us both to school.

Yes - apparently, this Tim person goes to the same school as me, and I had to listen to him nag Alfred about it on the way there . I rolled my eyes - seriously, he sounds like an entitled brat . Alfred dropped us off . The moment Tim stepped foot in school lots of kids approached him - probably because it was publicly known he was a Wayne , I on the other hand wasn't- hell I didn't even take his name I still kept my father's surname .

I left him and continued my day like normal, and after school, I went to my waitress job on the block. It's a quaint little cafe waitress job . It was nice and had good pay, so I wasn't too bothered. Of course, a week into my job and Tim had to already cause a scene .

The brat had to walk in with his group of little friends and had the audacity to demand I get them a table . I sat them down, took everyone's orders, and this man had to order some complicated shit with absurd add ins. Why order expresso and complain it's too bitter ?? Why order no flat decaf when decaf is already flat ? Why , when I explain to you , you snare at me .

The brat even had the audacity to say ' I was embarrassing the family by working here ' . I stepped on his foot, causing him to flinch and whispered to him , " Frankly I don't give a fuck what you or anyone thinks or has to say - you can frankly kiss my ass and see if I could care " and walked off .

He didn't leave a tip sadly and walked out of there with a nasty glare . I came home that evening and met Alfred, leaving out my dinner in my room , " Master Wayne restricts you joining dinner tonight since you are behaving too violent." I just gave him a look . For one pathetic of Tim to tattle to Daddy darest - another many reasons why I don't want siblings and secondly I've never joined anyone at dinner , I live and breathe in this room and unless the mansion is burning down I won't leave it to go anywhere unnecessary.

Months like this pass , Tim and I glaring at each other. Occasionally, Richard stops by to check on Mr. Wayne, or simply hang out with Tim and I was steadily saving money to go to this youth camp.

On my final day , I paid off for the youth camp registry and began packing my things - I simply began packing my clothes , I left behind any things deemed unnecessary like my record players , little nicks and knacks friends gifted me , the very painful photos of my parents and I and the home sewn clothes I once made in tech Ed.

Everything held very little value to me here , especially since I wanted a fresh start there . I packed my bags that night and left without a trace. Downtown Gotham was dangerous but had useful people for the wrong things. I carefully knocked on a banged up door and waited .

I heard a latch move itself and a wrinkly , obese man peers through at me . " What you want, kid?" he grunted . " A passport and a straightway ticket to Russia tonight," I say monotonous. He stared at me for a moment and left . Moments pass and he returns and slips me a passport and a ticket . I let our a small grun before slipping a $100 dollar bill in the latch before taking off in the night.

Training

Russia was cold - but for some odd , maybe sick and twisted way, I loved it . I loved the feeling of the cold nipping at my fingertips , I love the ghostly feeling when the cold air blows in you and I love the way it makes me feel alive .

The youth camp was a successful idea - marvelous even . Though many in my unit complained about how strenuous the training was , I enjoyed it . Every morning , from 4 am to 6 am , our mentors took us on a two hour long jog in the snowy forest of Cheremkhovsky .

It was hard at first , I had literally fainted on my first go, but as I eased into this , it became easier . After that jog , we had breakfast, and then we trained in our combat , hand to hand , handling weaponry such as guns and knives, etc.

My mentor , Kerry Lenz, took me under her wing when I joined . She saw my raw potential, my greedy need to feel alive and belonging . She had practically made me into what I am , a trained assassin .

While most of my peers were asleep in the dead of night , she took me out into the forest , regardless of whether it was snowing , raining, or a massive heatwave . There, under the start nights, she taught me the art of murder , she taught me how to effectively hide a body in plain sight and taught me how to read a person thoroughly , taught me how to stalk a prey and how to notice the tiniest details no matter how absurd .

She taught me like a mother hen would to her chick, and it made us closer. I came here to Russia at fourteen, and now here I am, graduating at eighteen into Russia's CIA program.

She kissed both of my cheeks that day and hugged me, and for once , I reciprocated it . " My beautiful rose , be the strong daring girl I taught you to be," She sobbed into my shirt . I smiled and hugged her , my eyes brimming with tears as I nuzzle into her shirt - her smell of rose scented perfume and Columbian cigar wafted into my nose .

" I promise to be that strong girl , mom," I promised her that day . She smiled at me and patted my shoulder . " hun , this life is a life you can't back away from , it digs its claws into you and keeps you hostage, promise me , you would not deter."

I nodded into her and tightened my hold on her . Since my graduation , I , out of the twenty five candidates at the youth camp , graduated into Russia's CIA task force . Our missions were never easy , every one we face the brutality of human nature - from sex traffic rings , child predators , serial killers to huge organizations abusing civilians , we were tasked to handle them all.

Every mission had its difficulty, a loss albeit one of our own or a victim, or maybe it's the mind-numbing pain of killing . Every mission had its fair share of shit but that didn't deter me one bit - I loved my job - I lived knowing that when I killed another child predator that I saved another child.

What's the use of arresting them in a system we're they are bound to be free and face no repercussions? Doing this job made me look at persons like Batman and his folk and a bit differently - he knowingly puts people like the Joker back into the Arkham asylum, knowing they'd break out and wreck havoc again.

Damian's p.o.v

If anyone told me that I of all people would feel out of place I would laugh at you . For my whole entire life - I've been a man sure of everything - down to the nitty things - I've been sure of everything.

I knew what I liked to eat , what shirt I wore with its specific pants , what show I like to watch , knew for certainty I wanted to be Robin but here - in this family I'm at a loss.

I'm always cleft confused and rather frustrated . My father's eldest , Dick , keeps lecturing me about how 'violent' my ways are , how I'm not suited to be Robin , that Robin is not 'violent'.

How is a boy supposed to believe the methods he's had instilled in him from birth are considered wrong - considered too orthodox. We both always argue - he always pushes me to my wits end . Today, though - today, he took it a notch further .

Today he involved father in our spat . It was a simple situation - a simple stake-out , a robbery being done in some small local supermarket , the robber noticed us before we noticed them and took off running and I had simply launched a batrang into his leg to stop him.

It led to the robber bleeding out in the road and almost dying, but wasn't the objective met ? Father and Dick seemed to think otherwise considering I was berated for it for fifteen minutes straight.

But what got me was when dick said , " You're a monster like your mother." I literally launched myself at him - almost prying out his eyes but father managed to pull me off and send me off to my room with a glare.

I didn't go to my room - I was far too angry, so I just roamed around the mansion . I have never been to this side of the mansion - to be fair, I don't even think Alfred ventures down here, but somehow - the quiet halls bring a bit of peace to me .

I walked down a hall and stopped at a door left abit ajar - weird I thought all doors in this house automatically closed . Approaching it , I carefully opened the door and peer in , inside - inside looked like a bedroom.

The bed looked like it was purposely shoved up against the window , it only had two pillows but frankly sat plush in-between them was a small plushie of a penguin. The room held minimum decor - whoever lived here may have been a minimalist or has long since moved on .

It had a quaint dark oak desk covered in dust and had several stacks of books that looked well used . Next to it was a wardrobe in matching oak that had a red,very worn , backpack hung on it's round handle . The room had a vanity , a cute miniature white one that every little girl must dream off , it held a simple comb and hair ties in a singular cup but the mirror was covered in old polaraid pictures.

So someone definitely lived here - but who ? I've seen Dick's room , even though he isn't here often Alfred cleans it and he has those stupid posters all over , it can't be Tim's either because his room is all dark and has a bunch of clothes strewn around , it's clearly a girl's so Cassandra? No she's too neat for this - steph ? No , I remember her decorating her room with pink frilly ribbons last Christmas- Jason? - no so then who -

" I see you've come across y/n's room " comes a sudden voice behind me . Turning around , I am met with Alfred, who looks around the room so - so sullen ? " Pennyworth, why such a cres- fallen face ?" I enquire . Alfred looks everywhere but me .

" This is y/n's bedroom " he says as he steps in. " y/n ?" I ask perplexed - father - hell no one has mentioned y/n to me ever .

ty for reading !!!

incorrect quotes

im in DESPERATE need for a part two of pull me in, whether reader dies or LEAVES bruce where the batfam helps her PLEASE. ANYTHING. i NEED to see the regret in bruce's actions PLEASE SOBS... 😖😖😖

I WILL I PROMSIE

Same dude! I always wonder to myself how I even got this far.. I think back to all that I've learned in school and not one lesson did get stuck in my head.. Like, how do my classmates remember the lessons they've learned as a child or past lessons?! (I have the memory of a goldfish and the attention span of a child)

BRO SAME MY MEMORY SO POOR BYE - like I used to feel so dumb watching other kids get As and stuff and thinking damn I'm stupid and like somehow I'm in Uni like bro HOW

Oh shush, you're gonna make me fall for you 😳🤭

Dhqjdiwus anon ur too kind

I'd also want to meet my male version.. I wonder what my male version is like or how he looks like

Btw, which one did you pick in the "would you rather" I sent you?

-👻

I picked the teleporting I believe I think telporting is cooler cuz if I ever spoke to past me idk be like " bro tell you mama to go on birth control"

There are times where I feel like the fact I'm in college is just a big dream.. Never in my life did I think that I'd make it this far.. 🧍‍♀️

REAL MAN sometimes I wake up and then I go to Uni and I sit there like ' bro how did my dumb ahh reach here '