Normally i get home around 6 or 7 because of commute. My class ends around 5:30pm. I got home late because of some outreach program planning we had to do. 😭
-👻
Ohhhhh
Bro.. I already have 16 list of ideas for DC but most of them are for neglected reader (why is it so satisfying to read a neglected reader? I'm so into the neglected reader like bruh..)
-👻
Its such a good trope ngll
Fun fact: I used to be that one quiet kid who also happen to be a loner.
People call me an extrovert now but they don't know how I'd rather be alone and that I'm literally forcing myself to be an extrovert due to my field that I chose 😭
Damn that hurts a lil too hard bcz im an introvert too thankfully my field I don't gotta talk to pple but still I understand you anon
WAIT SAME OMG WE'RE TWINING
PREV PART trigger warnings: anger, medical + emotional neglect, shouting, Reader loses their shit because Jason triggers their fight and flight, mental breakdown, mentions of wanting to die, basically a very angsty and dark chapter misgendering (Reader isn't out yet), introduction of a dc character main m.list series m.list
Ignorance is bliss, and you wish you kept that ignorance. After Maria sent you an article that has been logging Penguin crimes, you just couldn’t help but research them obsessively as you walk back to the manor.
You wince as you see a mugshot from your supervisor flash by. Yeah, you are closing this article and forgetting everything you read. The job pays well, and when you get into university you’ll just quit and get a job or two on campus. It will most likely be shit pay, but at least it wouldn’t morally weigh on you. “Just until you can move out,” you mumble as you open the front door. “and the colleagues are kind…”
When you walk through the door, there was Jason, you try to ignore him. Swimming in your thoughts, yet to notice how impatient he has been, how irritation was brewing in the air.
“You and I are going to have a chat about your behaviour towards Alfie,” Jason says, snapping you out of your thoughts and your eyes snap up to his. You could feel your heart start to pound, why was Todd speaking to you. “and before you refuse, we are going to the park.”
He looks irritated, but his eyes aren’t that glowing green. They are dull, not the vibrant colour that haunts you every time you close your eyes. “...No…” you assert, picking the skin around your fingers, your posture slumped and you look terrified. “I see no need to go anywhere with you, I see no reason why you would need to speak to me about my behaviour.”
He just sighs and shakes his head. “My god, I suggested a public area, we need to talk because you’re a disrespectful piece of shit. Stop being a---”
“No. We don’t, and you are the piece of shit! I am just done taking everyone’s bullshit.” you interrupt, your tone harsher and your stance more confident than before but you still look pathetic to Jason. You still look like the same teen he beat up that day, sure your eyes are harsher and your body is littered with scars he gave you. But you are still the same pathetic child clingy to the memories of your mother. “You have yet to show remorse for your actions after all these years, I will never be alone with you again.”
He scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he could deny that the apology was insincere, and he still feels little to no remorse. He sighs; “It was years ago, grow up.”
“Why don’t you fucking grow up!” you suddenly shout, throwing your bag on the ground. The echo of your shout loud and you could hear doors open. “You beat up a child! I was barely a teen and you still can’t fucking apologise! You still can’t look me in my eyes and admit what you did was wrong! None of you can! I was attacked by my supposed brother in my own room!” You could feel your muscles tense as your pain intensifies, anger is a painful emotion to have. But to hold it in is even more painful. “You destroyed most of what I had left of my mother and her family! Why?! Because you were jealous that Bruce took in his recently orphaned biological child?!”
You step closer to Jason, your eyes are scaring him, you look like you are in pain. But at the same time you look vengeful. You look like you’ve been pushed to the limit. “You don’t understand,” he hisses, stepping closer to you. He won’t be intimidated by a civilian.
“Then fucking let me!” you shout, basically spitting it out. Your nose flaring and your hands shaking. “You all tell me that I don’t understand, yet you all tell me that I have to forgive and forgive as you tear my heart out! And I am done! I am finally getting my life together, finally taking the next steps. And now you suddenly want to talk?! But you still refuse to explain?!”
You laugh, it was hysterical. If Jason didn’t know the laughs of the Joker, intimately, he would compare them in a heartbeat. Without thinking he grabs your arms, trying to force you away from him. Your siblings were watching the fight, he didn’t want to turn around to see Stephanie, Cassandra and Barbara. If he did, he would see their confused faces. He would see how they don’t understand your anger, and he would see Tim finally telling them the full story. A story that Cassandra had deciphered from just your shouting. A story that made it seem like you were in great physical pain.
“None of you have any rights to my time!” You shout, trying to get your arms lose from Jason’s grip. “And you have no right to touch me!” But Jason still didn’t let you go, you want to keep shouting, you want to shout at him until he let’s you go. Until he realises what harm he has done to you. Until your whole family finally realises all they’ve done, why did Tim seek you out? Why couldn’t Alfred just leave you be?! Why couldn’t you just keep your anger hidden until you were gone?! “Stop touching me, I hate you. I wish I died that day! I wish I didn’t have to live like this!”
You weren’t even shouting at him anymore. You were shouting at all of them, you were shouting about everything they’ve put you through. But you were also finally letting out the emotional pain your illness has given you. You’re shouting to the heavens, you are shouting to whoever will listen. You are shouting because the pain has finally become too much to handle.
The straw that breaks the camel's back has finally come.
You’re like a bucket overflowing with water, you are full of emotions that Jason had never seen you express. The only time he has ever seen you shake like this was that day, oh gods, what has he done?
You’re broken in ways he will never understand. You are in pain, and he’s the reason why. You are slipping, you’re breaking down and he doesn’t know what to do. “Step away from them,” he suddenly hears Duke’s voice, a boy that Bruce had recently thought about adopting, a meta that joined their ranks. Wait, is he calling her, them? “before I knock your teeth out.”
Jason steps backs in shock, his hold of you disappearing, but you didn’t even notice. Your hands going up to your shoulders as you start scratching. Oh my dear, you look crazed, you look as if you belong in Arkham Asylum. And Duke, he looks like he knows you. “(Name)” Duke whispers, trying to get you to stop scratching yourself. It almost seems as if you were trying to scratch away your pain, and by the gods, you were attempting to. Your fingertips bleeding, your eyes full of tears. “I am here, it’s Duke, your lab partner, what can I do for you?”
“I need to die,” you whisper, your eyes snap to his. “can you kill me?”
“You know I can’t,” he whispers, brushing some of your hair out of your face. Carefully making sure that his fingers don’t get tangled in your hair, if his fingers were to do that you would panic even more. Your mind would set you back even more, at least now you seem partly lucid. “but I can and will listen.”
You choke on a sob, and tears start streaming down your face as you slowly stop scratching. You barely know him, and here he is in your home (for whatever reason unknown to you), offering his ear to you. “What’s going on?!” Jason whisper-shouts, staring at Dick for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to act, not with the slimy feeling in his chest. Not with this voice in his head whispering that this is all his fault. Dick stares at him and mouths; ‘I have no idea’
But you ignore it all.
“You promise?” You ask Duke, your eyes show how scared you are to be hurt. Your body language defensive. Black spots were slowing clouding the corner of your eyes.
“I promise.”
And with that you close your eyes.
NEXT PART Notice how I was in a dramatic mood here?
taglist: Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways (is there a limit with tagging people or something???)
Haii, I was wondering, do you have a taglist? If so, could I be added? If not, pls ignore me lol. I can’t find it on your page if you do or not so I hope I’m not bothering you!! <333
ALSO, Bruce in pull me in.
UGH THAT MAN. INFURIATING.
Haiii !!! Yeah I can add u in and sorry abt that I'm working on a masterlist and taglist page thingy and not for nun wld tumblr let me post it 😭😭
Read pull me in here !!
Bro.. I hate how my classroom is on the 4th floor and the fact that there's no elevator (there is but it's only for the people that couldn't walk or is using a wheelchair)
Oml I feel you on that
Man, seeing someone actually wanting to read my idea (with you actually planning on writing it) and you responding to my asks makes me happy.. (You're my fav person in this app! <33)
-👻anon
Awwwww I'm glad I can help <33
I'm sorry noonie
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
Hihi ! So I posted Chapter 3 to Lone Warrior and it got content label warning due to some violence in the story so incase you can't find it due to filters or stuff here's the link
CH3
I don't know why it got a label? I mean it's not any nsfw or super gory it has some cursing I presume and blood but I have works where I got gory and it didn't get that label ? I'm not sure but I'm working on it ty again for the support!
I'm sorry noonie 😔😔😔
summary : batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.
Dick sit's down and eyes his family with a warm smile as he looks at his siblings with a loving look - they've all came so far and they all deserved this moment of blissful peace . He observes Tim and Damian engrossed in some random videogame , duke was painting steph's nails while she shows him random memes on her phone while jason and cass are talking about the latest anime they watched .
Everyone is happy , including himself because he's back home , surrounded with the people he holds so dear to his heart. Alfred approaches him with a fresh pan of brownies . Dick quickly snatches three portions and flash Alfred a smile , " Thanks Alfie !!" he exclaims . Alfred nods and rest the pan on a nearby table . " Hey Alfred when is Bruce coming back ?" Jason randomly asks . Alfred glances at his watch , " In approximatly one hour Master " . Jason groans. " That's so longggg besides why is he always disappearing off these days ?"
Alfred takes a moment to compose himself - he desperately tries to swallow the underlying pain he feels bubbling inside before he answers , " He always has board meetings around this time Master " , his tone wavering in the slightest yet unnoticeable. Jason rolls his eyes - annoyed but understanding and was about to retort but gets distracted when Cass shows him something on her phone.
Alfred excuses himself and makes a beeline escape to the outside patio . In the quiet stillness of the manor , when the eloquent halls are empty , when the kids are enveloped in their own innocent warmth , Alfred takes his time to shed a silent lone tear as he grieves . God knows , knows that every night when his worn palms are intertwined as he mutters a silent pray - that he's praying that your soul is safe and happy wherever it is - that your watching over him and this family with your silly smile and wrapping them in your soft , delicate hugs as you shield them away from the evil that tore you apart from them.
Meanwhile Bruce sits in his office chair - the room dark and quiet save for the occasional hum of the AC . His workers long since left hours ago , his work long finished and laid discarded on his desk . Bruce was a man that planned for everything , whether he was doing business or simply being Batman , he had plans and preparations for everything but parenting - he swears no matter what he does he can never ever fully plan .
He never planned on adopting Tim , Jason , Dick and Cass , never planned on being Steph or Duke guardians or hell never plans on having his son, Damian. None of it mattered because he would never ever regret having them in his life . He has read so many parenting books over his years , learning how to carter to each one of them but none of them prepared him to bury a child.
There is no feeling in this world that comes as gut retching , as tragic , as painful as the feeling of a parent burring their child . The memory is fresh in his head - the view of your small body - mangled beyond recognition - save for the pretty pink princess dress he dressed you in to go to preschool - your own blood covered you - like a blanket - a last ditch attempt to protect you from the harshness of the world .
Your once glowing big eyes that always looked at him with excitement now stare at him with a dull , blank look . He remembers cradling your small frame into his chest as the world around him crumble apart , as it slips through like sand slipping away to the ocean whenever the tides crash onto the shore . He remembers crying when he felt the bullet holes in your chest against his own. He holds your cold body close , cradling your head into his neck like he always do when he tucks you in to sleep . He lips memorized the way it kept muttering " it's okay baby daddy's got you , it's okay " .
He held your body until the police arrived and had to confiscate it . For the first and last time - Bruce lashed out at them - where were they when the school called in an active school shooter - where were they ? What was more important than saving his daughter's life ? He remembers screaming at them and Alfred having to hold him back . Alfred had to make the difficult decision to shove Bruce into the car to stop him from attacking the officers even though he himself wanted to confront them.
That night the manor for the first time was silent - Alfred was opening his fifth bottle of whisky in his room as he drowns himself in his own misery - he misses his grandbaby so much - he knows you hate seeing grandpa so sad and miserable - would always climb up on his bed and offer him your plushie as you gave him a big old kiss but you aren't here to do that anymore so he downs another after another.
Bruce sat on the floor of your room that night , the pastel walls filled with polaroid pictures of all three of you , his eye caught one - you were sitting on his shoulders , you wore a wide grin on your face , arms outstretched as you held a cone of ice cream he got you . He looked so happy there , hair tousled from your antics but he wore a smile . That day you were offering him your ice cream because you claimed " ice cream is the bestest thing in the entire world !".
He sobbed into his hands - why - why must the world be so cruel to him ? Why must the world take away his parents ? Why must the world take you away ? Does he not deserve happiness ? Does he not deserve to have hope ? Why must only he suffer ? Why out of all the children in that preschool the shooter chose to shot you ?
Was it because you were a small kind thing and had pushed your classmate out of harms way and took that hit ? Was it because you were too caring for your own good so you cradled your classmate's crying form into yours while you bled out ? Was it because you were you ? Did anyone ever thought in that moment to help you when the shooter yanked you away from your classmate and began to beat your small frame with his gun ? Did no one stop him from mangling your form ?
Did anyone care to step in before he shot you in your stomach a few times and left your body to be ensnared by death's cold fangs? Did anyone care to listen to your last words ? Did anyone catch the way you softly whimpered papa and grandpa - too scared , confused , too engulfed in pain to understand what was happening - just a small child searching for her family because that's all you knew ?
He curses that blasted teacher everyday - how could she let a child face that ? How could she huddle the other kids closer to her - leaving you to face that monster alone ? He wants to grab her and brutally rip the life out of her lungs - he doesn't care that she was pregnant and stressed and was doing 'her best' - what makes her unborn child and those other children more important than you ?
Another anguished sob leaves him and he remains there , crying his eyes out til the dawn breaks upon the world again. He hated that moment the most - of course that morning the sky had to shower upon them all a strong storm - strong winds that destroyed rickety rooves - practically plucking them from their houses like it was nothing . Strong , heavy rains that flooded the earth , a desperate rebuttal to wash away the scum of the world.
Alfred and Bruce stood together side by side as they watch a small casket descend into the depths of the earth . The priest practically choked on his tears during his prayer - Bruce feels himself going numb all over again - just life when his parents left him - he feels himself succumbing to the darkness and emptiness that reside inside him.
He shovels dirt onto your grave , each movement engraves a knife deeper in his chest - further solidifying the fact that you were gone and never ever coming back . He will never get back the sound of your cute giggles , never receive your colorful doodles of Alfred and himself , never get the opportunity to carry you on his shoulders , never get to experience you going to high school , you getting to experience you bring home your first boyfriend , the feeling of being overbearing and overprotective of his little girl going out with some guy , never get to experience watching you graduate high school , never get to experience you going to university and hear you complain about how annoying your professor is , never get to experience being happy and celebrating you getting your dream job and he would never ever get to experience watching you get married to the love of your life .
He would never get to experience any of this because you were never coming back home to Alfred or him . Bruce pulls up to the drive way of his home . His hand falls to his side as he watches out of the window and glances at the shrubbery. He misses you so much - he wonders all the time if you would love your adopted siblings - if you'd doodle all of them with your scented crayons and hang them up on the fridge , he wonders if you'd love petting Titus with Damian , if you'd play tea party with the girls , if you'd chase Jason down the halls with Tim and Dick because he stole your plushy -
He wonders if you'd love them , wonders if your watching over them - if you are proud that after you died he became the Bat ? Wonders if you would be proud that Alfred stopped drinking for you because he didn't want his little girl to be sad . He exits his car , his hands clutches the stuffed white bear in his hand and the other holds the bouquet of tulips and sunflowers.
He takes the long walk to the family cemetery , recalls all the funny conversations you both had - like how you thought the sun followed you in the car - maybe it did because whenever he was with you things were brighter . Even now , as he stands in front of your grave , the sun set behind you like a golden crown , its soft orange and pink hues , your favorite colors , paint the sky . Bruce sits near your grave and begins to talk to you ,
" Hey sweet girl how are you ? ......Daddy and Grandpa misses you alot sweet girl ...we miss you alot .....did you know grandpa made your favorite brownies today ? He made your own pan because he knows you loved them ....Daddy brought you a new stuffie and your favorite flowers ? You can name him whatever you want sweet girl .....I see grandpa left you a princess crown - I bet you love the pink glitters don't you sweet girl ? Daddy knows your still the prettiest princess no matter where you are . I miss you so much sweet girl - I wish you were here hunny - wish I could get more of your warm hugs - Wish you were still here with me - with us "
Everything goes silent for a long time , Bruce stays , embracing your comfort . Bruce watches as the sun full set behind the distant trees , the world now engulfed in darkness . He gets up , wiping away the lone stray tears on his face as he prepares to face his family.
He gathers himself and looks at your grave one last time , " Daddy loves you sweet girl stay safe for me okay ?" and with that Bruce leaves , heart heavy and longing .
My idea for the harry Potter reader was actually like this:
- let's say just for some plot purposes.. Lily Potter had a one night stand with Bruce (for plot) and James found out later on that lily was pregnant. He knew that he wasn't the father but he loved lily so much that he was willing to raise the child.
- time skip to both lily and James dying. Everything went according to plot. The reader was taken in by her aunt but until years later Bruce finds out about Harry Potter reader. He does little research and finds out that readers parents were killed by a burglar or something (fake cause of death because people without magic can't find out about the wizard world). Bruce decided to take reader in, winning rights over reader when she's around the age of 12-13 (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets arch). There was really nothing that stands out about the reader to them, she was just an "normal" child so without even noticing, they had accidentally ignored her presence because they thought that she was fine, that she had it easy, that she doesn't have any problem now because she can have everything she wants or whateva.
- they never noticed whenever she disappeared for a whole year(?) And only return every summer. They completely forgot she existed.
-being forgotten had it's advantage due to her being able to go in and out of the mansion without the bats noticing or questioning where she goes. It also helps how they have no idea of the wizarding(?) World.
Okay.. I'mma stop here because my brain is empty again.. 😔
I was not made for writing so bear with my amateur writing.
-👻anon
Honestly that's some good cooking skills there anon
── .✦ hi I'm red | 19 | muti fandom ⚘( ၴႅၴ was known as @red-phantom-0 ‧₊˚🖇️✩ 🕷⋆.ೃ࿔*: asks & requests are appreciated! ━ 𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 ?! crds to @present_day.present.time on tiktok for bg crds to @dntaed & @pix-stuff for theme inspo
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