Girl Dad!Joker Is Literally My Life Rn, You Opened My Eyes And Now I Can't Stop Thinking Of Ideas...

prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue

1 month ago

We don't know for sure 👀👀 but I'll hug you lovingly 💜💜💜

summary : the forgotten wayne child realizes why she's so forgotten.

Dark trees lined the horizon , their luscious leaves obscure the sight of the steady rising sun in the distance . You stand by yourself alone , eyes drooping ever so slightly as you your hands steadily move across the canvas before you.

You feel so lost - maybe because you are - lost and scared as your hands slightly trembled - the grip on your paint brush loosening. The paintbrush looks dull at first - just a sleek white wood, but the bristles were of the finest quality, of course - any gift from Damian Wayne would be .

You vividly recall the morning he had shoved a small rectangular box in your hands - face holds a small scowl . You recall opening it and was met with the paintbrush.

"Damian, you didn't have to," you murmur slightly as your hands glided across the smooth wood with utter care. Damian looks at you impassivly, " I made it , carved the wood and thined out the brush myself - I just happened to think of you that's all " he says before turning around and disappeared behind the halls.

You held your tongue - Damian was never expressive, but he tried - tried more than anyone else had in your life to care for you . That morning, you sat the box on your desk and swore to use it on a good painting.

It's been a couple of years since that swore, and now , you find yourself finally using it. You sat up straight in your wooden stool , one hand glides across the French canvas before you , it stands proudly upon the Korean easle- the wood was sourced from the finest wood the could offer.

Your left hand props up the Japanese paints in a wooden palette , around the rim sits the purest shade of white , a molten golden yellow, little dabs of sea blue , rosey pink and earthy browns .

Your hands seize as you stop , you gently rest the paint brush onto the rim of the easle as you look at your painting. It looks beautiful to the eye- how could it not?

The woman before her has beautiful golden hair - hear that shines so brightly it could rival the sun - her face , ethereally so smooth its as if God personally carved her out the finest poreclin.

Her stunning blue eyes state right back at her- captivating - so dazzling, in fact that a mere glance at it can overthrow any captain off course.

You stare back at her but can't help but find fault in it - in the faintest corner of her collar bone, you mark a single lone bristle that stuck on with the paint . Your jaw tightens, but it doesn't match the way you clutch onto the paintbrush in fury as your eyes peek the faint outline of the littlest pink escaping the outline of her beautiful dress.

Anger boils in you, and suddenly, the girl stating back at you suddenly looks imperfect - she looks uglier now that you've seen her flaws, and suddenly, this is deeper than just some stupid painting.

You glance at the canvas once more - it's your reflection stating right back and suddenly you feel your lungs constrict on itself - denying your body of any more oxygen.

Your reflection looks so hideous- why must there be so many acne scars ? Why must your nose look so distorted ? Why is it that one eye slightly looks bigger than the other? Why is it that you aren't perfect ?

You felt tears stream down your face - body still as it a war enrages within you . You fight the urge to reach out to your reflection and tear apart your body - to rearrange it , to mold it into something better , something perfect.

Why can't you be perfect ? Why must you look like this ? Is this a cruel mockery bestowed upon you ? Your mind traces back through all your memories - memories of watching Cassandra , Stephanie, and Barbra putting in makeup one night for some gala - your sister look so happy with one another as they carefully smack their lipsticks together - their reflection looked unreal- too beautiful for the eye to comprehend.

Bruce had invited them - not you but them and a few other of your brothers . You feel bile rising in your throat as the memory replays before you - why hadn't Father asked you ? Does he know how much you wish to go to a gala?

To live every girl's dream of dressing up and dancing under the prettiest lights with a handsome boy ? What a naive thought- a truly naive thought as your memory flashes to you running back into your own room .

Your sobs echo through the room as you desperately slap makeup onto yourself - a pathetic attempt to look beautiful. You memory zooms in on your past self finally looking into your old mirror - the reflection is utter repulsive - a literal pig stands before you , makeup smeared.

You choked as you blinked away , staring back at the canvas - again, the beautiful woman's portrait morphs into one of a pig with makeup smeared on . You let out a scream - shoving the portrait back, causing it to collide with the wet grass , mud trickles onto it , covering the portraits beautiful face.

You covered your face with your hands desperately as you began sobbing hard- is this what it's come to ? You being so ugly , so imperfect that it's the reason why no one in this God forsaken family loves you ?

Why you're so utterly replaceable because your surrounded by beautiful and talented people . Why Bruce always introduces Cassandra so proudly as his daughter because she's so utterly beautiful and graceful unlike you.

Why Dick and Tim snares at you whenever you're in the same vicinity . Why Alfred always shoots you a pitiful look whenever Jason and yourself quarrel - always saying "he's younger than you and had a hard life you have to foguve him" .

Us this why your mother unceremoniously dumped you 9n a cold winter night at the Wayne's manor , nothing to your name , just a simple rag that covered you?

You feel your body tremble manically - not even your own flesh wants you - just simply wants to reject your entire being . You feel yourself collapsed onto the muddy floor - maybe this is where you belong- a pig is always found in the mud - counting down the days till it meets the demise of a blade.

Maybe that's what's happening - your body is just waiting for you to die, so a better person can host it. You throw up bile upon yourself - you look even more pathetic- you look like a mess - an unwanted mess that everyone purposely walks pass because it's utterly too much .

You hiccuped again when you hear the mansions backdoor slide open.

"Name just what do you think you're doing ?"

thank you for reading !!

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue

3 months ago

ᴼᴺᴱ ᴼᶠ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴳᴵᴿᴸˢ

✐ an au where the reader is the favorite person in batfam because THEY DESERVE TO BE THE FAVORITE

one of the girls

(by the weeknd)

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0:00 ●───────────4:51

.　 *　.　　　　. 　 ° 　. ● ° . ¸ .　　★　° :.　 . • ° 　 .　 *　:.　☆

- reader is an average person - literally, they're not a vigilante by choice, of course, though even though they don't take part in the vigilante life, it doesn't mean they don't help.

- reader is such a life saviour, especially after a particularly grueling patrol always coming in clutch with hot chocolate they made for everyone in cute matching hello kitty cups because they're girlie pop .

- reader always helps patches everyone up - giving everyone deserved head pats, especially to poor dick because he always goes too hard on himself .

- despite not being a vigilante - reader knows about who they are and what they do - kinda hard not too when Jason is crashing in the loving room couch with a black eye.

- despite having not being as tech savvy as Barbra and Tim , the reader always sits with them - always engaging them in the latest gossip, which helps time pass by faster !

-every morning, Cas and readers literally does hot girl yoga sessions in Cas' rooms because why not ? And of course, they're both giggling about how last night on patrol Damian totally didn't slip and fall when he grappled onto a rooftop.

- every morning before they get ready for school , all the girls are huddled in Stephanie's room, and they're all picking out what matching sweaters they're all repping to school and they're doing each other's eyeliner while Chappel Ronan is blasting in the background <3.

- During lunch , Tim and the reader and a couple of other friends are gathered around a lunch table playing uno - Tim literally always changing up the rules when he's losing which earns a playful smack from reader lol.

- after school , Damian and the reader both at the park playing with Titus in the park and feeding the nearby ducks in the pond . One time Reader fell in the pond and Damian couldn't stop laughing at them for a whole week.

- Jason and reader are always trying to one up each other on who can run up the stairs faster ( fun fact it's neither of them it's actually Alfred ) and they're both always grumpy when he beats them both because wdym an old man is faster than them -.

- reader and Duke always do homework together every night - both literally confused - literally the blind leading the blind because neither of them understands what their homework requires of them.

- dick and reader ends off the night by watching a random series like love island together and both gets way too political on who should end up with who and if either watches an episode without the other ITS BETRAYAL .

- reader and Bruce unironically text and communicate with each other in cringey memes, which only they find funny at this point -

- reader who helps Alfred with menial chores because they wanna spend time with him and plus Alfred is always spilling tea about his missions back in the day like wdym Alfred flirted with the Queen of England once -

- so all in all, despite not being a vigilante , reader is integrated in batfam's life so much so their literally dubbed the favorite sibling .

- like the one day reader spent the day with a friend's, Damian, Duke, Cas and Tim showed up and crashed it because they missed them so much . Reader had 12 missed calls from Bruce , 50+ messages rom Dick accusing them of not loving him because they abandoned him , a video sent from Jason of him eating reader's hidden stash of sweets and a message from steph saying she's stealing reader's hair curler .

- Alfred literally brags about reader like their the only grandchild he has 😭😭.

Overall, chaotic family shenanigans and overall batfam loves reader too much .

DIE YOUNG

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

part 2 of die young

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 .

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue

1 month ago

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

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prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue

2 months ago

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

WEEPING WILLOW

summary: alternative universe where die young reader lived and actually met her siblings yet still she meets her end even in another universe.

Time never stops, nor does the world yet, whenever I peer back at your picture name , I feel like time has for you. You still look youthful , still vibrant as if the world's cruelties haven't touched you yet. Haven't gutted you out and left you for nothing.

For the first time in twelve years, I visited that tree you were so insistent on seeing that day . It's an old willow that overlooks a sea - straight out of a picture book like the ones you always read before you sleep.

Home doesn't feel like home anymore name , not without you here anymore . It feels empty and cold without you. Big brother Dick has yet to visit Gotham , his last visit was your own funeral.

Your other older brother Jason started getting violent again every patrol , he beats up criminals so bloody they practically flee. Tim hasn't said much , he's been so quiet, and he just floats around now . Damian took your death the hardest .

He sleeps in your bed every night , wailing to himself about it. Barbra and Stephanie are trying to keep the family afloat, but they know deep down we're cracking. Duke stopped playing hockey - he says it feels so wrong to not when your not there to throw the puck back at him.

Alfred started back drinking and smoking - we hear him in dead of night sobbing and pleading for you to come back home. Bruce stopped living - he barely eats , sleeps , he barely does anything . Every day, he visits your grave , flowers in hand, and just wails about everything.

Again, the willow tree on that hill just sways to the beat of the calm breeze , as if time doesn't affect it. No one would ever understand why on that Sunday you went to that willow tree alone .

No one would understand why you hugged us all so hard before you had set off . No one will ever understand why your body was found laying on the bark of the tree so lifeless and cold .

We will never understand why you choose to go by yourself - why not go with us around you. Uncle Clark told Bruce, " Name was always a kind child , she didn't want you all to have the last memory of her to be sad sad." Your dad punched him in the face - he had argued , " my child didn't have to go through death by herself!" .

We would never know why - it's not like you're here anymore to tell us to comfort us. Long gone with the Friday nights, we all stayed up past 4 A.M. , all ganging up on Bruce and Tim in monopoly, Dick always quick to tackle Tim to the floor because he swears he robbed him of $100.

Gone were the days we'd all make bets if Damian was going to walk in with a new stray to his name and watch him and Bruce go back and forth on it. It feels like yesterday when Barbra , Steph and Cass took you to sephora and convinced you to buy that one overpriced lipstick. It's still sat on your nightstand idly.

Gone were the late nights , Jason and you would have snuck out late to drive around Gotham on his motorbike and stop by Dairy Queen. Gone were the quiet evenings spent with you and Tim building a castle on ya'lls minecraft base.

Gone were the days you and Damian would argue when you would both try to build legoes and would fail miserably . Alfred misses the times where you use to join him in attempting to cook - god knows the evidence of your attempt to fry an egg is still stuck on the ceiling.

Bruce misses your hugs the most - you were the only child he had that actively hugged him, and he missed the way how after patrols you always made him hot chocolate .

Nothing feels right - never will because you're not here . It feels wrong to walk these halls, knowing you would have walked them too . It's weird living knowing you could have been living - breathing along with them.

It feels like no matter what universe we have you in , you always leave, and it always hurts. Why must in every universe you leave us behind ? Why must every other universe does God have to take you away ?

Why must in every universe we always mourn you ? It hurts - it hurts so much to watch your body be covered in soil . No one talks about how you practically hold your breath when you see your loved one go down in that grave as if - by some miracle, they'd open their eyes and jolt out the grave. It sounds so ridiculous, but they'd never get that desperation of wanting that loved one to be alive.

It hurts when we hear about the rumors - the rumors that you killed yourself ? That you went to the willow tree to end your life ? Bruce had practically went raging mad that evening when he got word - that same night, the entire PR team got to work into suing those persons.

Some suspected you got possessed because you had sold your sold your soul off - that's why you hugged us all before you left - you didn't want the demon to follow the family back home. It was a stupid rumor going around in school, and Damian had practically beat the shit out of the senior who started it.

Some said we abused you - that had Alfred cursing them out because how dare they - you were loved in this family and still very much loved even though you are long gone.

No one would know , not even we will - all we know was one Sunday evening . Dinner was being set up when Bruce got a call from Comissioner Gordon , " Two passerbys reported seeing your daughter laid unresponsive atop Willow Hills" .

Bruce dropped everything in that moment and immediately bolted to that willow tree , the others running behind him . He didn't wanna believe it - wants to believe you're just asleep - had just accidentally dozed off and lost track of time because there was no way in hell his 15 year old daughter is dead.

When the others reached him , they just saw him embracing you and crying his heart out . You were long gone , had long passed away without them, and none of them knew how to handle that reality .

We miss you name , please come home , we need you back .

▬▬ Wayne Family