Kelly

you can call me ‘Kelly’ 22 / she/her

[lettersunderthecrypt]

Night Terrors [Ch. 4}

Pairing: AFAB!Reader x Yandere!Batfamily

Summary: A woman wakes in a mansion she doesn’t belong to and discovers that escaping it means stepping into a city that shouldn’t exist.

Words: 7k

Content Warning: Disorientation, Identity confusion, Emotional Distress, Panic, Existential Dread, and Mild language, Claustrophobia, Stalking, Paranoia, Creepy Old Men, Idk, Use of Y/N

A/N: Last update for tn :)

Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Y/N sat at the kitchen island, her hands trembling faintly around the mug Alfred had placed in front of her. The smell of hot chocolate, rich, warm, and comforting, didn’t do much to ground her, but Alfred’s steady presence beside her helped.

Dick sat close, elbows on his knees, watching her face like he could read every flicker of emotion that passed through it. Jason lingered in the corner, arms crossed, leaning against the wall near the doorway. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else, but the muscle in his jaw kept ticking, betraying that he was just as unsettled as the rest of them.

Alfred broke the silence first, his voice low but measured.

“Miss Y/N, perhaps you can tell us what exactly happened.”

She blinked down at her drink, the reflection of the kitchen lights shaking with each tiny tremor in her hands. “It’s… I don’t know,” she said softly. “It just…it freaked me out. The letter, the handwriting. It was addressed to someone that doesn’t even exist.”

Dick’s brows knit together. “How would he even know that name?”

That made Jason push off the wall. “Better question: how’d he get that letter in the damn car?”

Alfred’s face tightened at that. He was trying not to show it, but she could see the worry working its way into the corners of his eyes. “I inspected the vehicle myself this morning,” he murmured. “There was no sign of tampering.”

“So either he got to it before she even left,” Jason muttered, pacing slowly, “or he’s good enough to do it without being seen.”

Y/N tried to follow the conversation, but it all meshed into a blur. The mug in her hands was warm, grounding, but her head felt stuffed with cotton. Every word, every sound came through the fog.

Jason’s voice broke through, sharp but not cruel. “Look,” he said, coming to stand a few feet from her. “You gotta be straight with us now. This isn’t something you can just handle on your own anymore. Whatever this is, it’s serious.”

She looked up at him, tired eyes rimmed red. “I’m not lying.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Jason replied, softer now, though his tone still carried an edge. “I’m saying you can’t keep things to yourself. Not when you’ve got people worried sick.” His gaze flicked toward Alfred, who was busying himself with tidying the already immaculate counter.

Y/N hesitated, chewing at the inside of her cheek. “I met him at Ink and Steam. The bookstore.”

Dick leaned forward slightly. “The one off downtown?”

She nodded faintly. “Yeah. He… he was weird from the start, I guess. Talked about wanting to leave an imprint on people. He said his name was Thomas. I thought it was just a strange conversation until he started showing up everywhere. Coffee shop. Grocery store. Just… places I went.”

Dick’s eyes hardened. Alfred looked like someone had knocked the breath out of him.

“And you never mentioned this to anyone?” Alfred asked quietly.

“I didn’t think it was serious,” she murmured. “And I didn’t want to…” She stopped herself, glancing away. Didn’t want to make you worry. But she didn’t say it out loud.

Jason muttered something under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “Great. So we’ve got a stalker who’s playing shadow games and writing creepy notes.”

Y/N tried to take another sip of her drink, but her eyelids fluttered, heavy now that the adrenaline had started to drain from her system.

Dick noticed first. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’re wiped out.”

“I’m fine,” she murmured, though her words slurred slightly.

He stood and gently took the mug from her hands before she could protest again. “C’mon.”

Jason stepped aside as Dick guided her up, one arm braced around her shoulders. She barely had the energy to argue. The hallway lights blurred into soft streaks as he led her upstairs.

In her room, Dick helped her sit on the bed before pulling the blanket over her. She looked dazed, almost weightless, eyes unfocused as exhaustion swallowed her whole.

“Hey,” he said quietly, crouching beside the bed. “You’re safe here. You hear me?”

Y/N nodded faintly, curling under the blanket.

Dick lingered for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, gently, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. His voice was low, barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner,” he said. “I’ve been too caught up in everything else. I told myself you were fine because I wanted it to be true. But I promise you this... No one’s ever gonna hurt you again. Not while I’m still breathing.”

His throat tightened, and for a split second, he was eight years old again—kneeling on the cold ground under the circus lights, staring at two still forms, swearing to himself he’d never let anyone else he loved get hurt.

Not again.

He stayed there until her breathing evened out, quiet and steady against his shoulder, before finally pulling back. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, then stood and left the room without a sound, his promise echoing silently in his chest.

The elevator doors hissed open, the sound of hydraulics echoing off cold concrete. Bruce strode into the Batcave, his steps heavy, his jaw tight. The tension rolled off him in waves—the kind that meant something had gone wrong topside.

“Report,” he said flatly, not even looking up as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it across the console chair. “Are we ready for the drop tonight?”

Tim, who’d been hunched over the main workstation, froze. His fingers hovered uncertainly over the keyboard. “Uh… mostly.”

Bruce’s head snapped up. “Mostly?”

There was steel in the word, enough to make Tim’s shoulders tense. “I’m missing a few things,” he said quickly, “but I can—”

“What things?” Bruce’s tone was clipped. “You’ve had the files since last night. We’ve been planning this for a week. What could possibly be missing?”

Tim hesitated, glancing at Alfred, who was standing near the med bay with a faint frown. “I was helping Alfred with something,” he said finally.

That made Bruce turn fully. His glare was sharp enough to cut glass. “Helping Alfred?”

Alfred drew in a quiet breath, already anticipating where this was going. “If I may, Master Bruce...”

But Bruce was already pushing forward. “Tim,” he said, voice low but cold, “we’re talking about a major drug operation moving through the Narrows tonight. I need you focused. And you’re telling me you’re behind because you were… helping with house matters?”

Tim winced. “It’s not just house matters,” he muttered. “It’s Y/N. She’s got someone following her.”

Alfred wasted no time trying to cover for Tim; after all, it was he who had asked. “Just today she received a letter, it rattled her quite badly.”

That gave Bruce pause, but only for a heartbeat. His expression didn’t soften. Alfred, you should’ve brought it to me if it was that serious.”

“I tried,” Alfred said evenly, though there was the faintest edge beneath the calm. “But you were rather preoccupied with the case.”

“I am preoccupied,” Bruce snapped. “Because this city doesn’t stop burning just because someone left an anonymous note in her car.”

That hit harder than he realized. Dick, who had been standing off to the side cleaning his gauntlets, straightened abruptly. “You think this is about an anonymous note?”

“From what I’ve heard,” Bruce said without turning, “it’s vague. No name. No confirmed threat. You can’t expect me to divert the team for something like that when…”

“Something like that?” Dick’s voice rose before he could stop it. “Bruce, she’s terrified. She’s barely been sleeping, she’s not eating, and some psycho got close enough to leave something in the damn car. You think that’s nothing?”

Jason, standing near the stairs, crossed his arms but didn’t interrupt. His eyes flicked between them, unreadable.

Bruce’s tone stayed even, but it grew sharper. “I’m saying we have to prioritize. The city comes first.”

Alfred’s composure finally cracked. “And what of your family, sir? When do they come first?”

The words hung in the air like a slap.

Even Barbara, her face lit in blue on the comm screen, frowned deeply. “Bruce,” she said through the speakers, “you might want to rethink how you’re phrasing that. We’re talking about your daughter. She’s in danger, whether you think it’s minor or not.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond right away. He just stared at the tactical display on the screen, watching as red lines traced the routes of the dealers they were supposed to intercept tonight.

Finally, he exhaled slowly through his nose. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“Bruce…” Dick started.

“Later,” Bruce repeated, voice firm enough to end the argument. “We move on the drop at twenty-three hundred. Cassandra and Stephanie will handle ground surveillance. I want eyes on the secondary routes and all comms open.”

Barbara’s sigh crackled through the speaker. “Copy that. Cass and Steph are already en route.”

Bruce nodded once. “Good. Tim, you and Jason stay here and monitor. Alfred, make sure the feeds stay up. I don’t want interference.”

No one said anything after that.

Bruce turned, the cape on his back catching the cave lights as he walked toward the Batmobile. The sound of his boots echoed against the rock, heavy and final.

As the car roared to life and the noise filled the cavern, Dick muttered under his breath, “Yeah. We’ll talk later. Sure.”

Jason shoved his hands into his pockets, scowling. “He’s got a one-track mind. Always has.”

Alfred stood a few feet away, face drawn, the faint tremor of anger replaced by something heavier, worry and exhaustion.

Tim looked back at the screen, where Barbara’s face lingered before she cut the feed. “I’ll keep working on the footage,” he murmured. “Maybe there’s something we missed.”

“Do that,” Alfred said quietly. “Because I fear the situation is far from over.”

The night at the docks was cold and heavy with fog, the kind that clung to the skin and dulled the sound of footsteps. Gotham Harbor slept in patches of shadow and sodium light, cranes and shipping containers looming like skeletal giants under the low clouds. The smell of salt and oil filled the air.

Bruce crouched on the edge of a corrugated rooftop overlooking the loading yard, his eyes tracking the movement below. A dozen men in dark jackets moved crates off an unmarked truck. The sound of muffled grunts and the metallic clink of crowbars carried through the mist.

“Confirmed,” Stephanie’s voice came through the comms, steady and low. “It’s Venom. I count fourteen in the open, three near the truck cab, maybe more inside.”

“Copy,” Bruce replied. His tone was clipped, controlled. “Cassandra, take the north perimeter. Steph, on my mark, move in with me. Dick’s approaching from the east.”

Cassandra didn’t respond with words, just the faintest static crackle, the sound she made when she acknowledged orders. Bruce watched her form melt into the fog below, silent and swift as smoke.

From the far end of the dock, Dick’s grapnel line hissed as he swung down onto a stack of containers, landing in a crouch. “Got eyes on your left flank, B,” he said over the comm. “Looks like they’re packing more than usual tonight.”

Bruce grunted quietly. “They’ve been consolidating supply since the last raid. This must be the main hub.”

Stephanie perched on the railing beside him, her purple hood pulled low. The glow from a nearby floodlight caught the edge of her mask. “You ever think maybe Gotham just likes being poisoned?” she muttered. “Feels like for every one of these rings we take down, two more pop up.”

“Then we take those down too,” Bruce said simply.

Steph rolled her eyes under the mask but tightened her gloves. “Yeah, yeah. Eternal crusade, no sleep, no fun. Got it.”

“Focus,” Bruce ordered.

She grinned under her breath. “Always.”

Down below, one of the dealers barked something at his crew. A crate lid clattered to the ground. The fog shifted just enough for Bruce to spot the glint of gunmetal. He tapped his comm twice.

“Now.”

The world exploded into motion.

Cassandra struck first; a blur of black and movement, taking down two men before anyone even registered her presence. One’s body hit the concrete with a dull crack. The other’s weapon flew into the harbor with a splash.

Dick dove from the container stack, his escrima sticks sparking as they met the first man’s rifle. “Evening, boys!” he called out, ducking a swing and flipping the guy onto a pallet of crates. “You missed your shipment deadline.”

Bruce dropped from above, his cape spreading wide before he landed squarely in the center of the chaos. The impact made the ground shudder. Two men turned, raising their guns, but Bruce was already there: one arm blocking, the other driving a heavy punch that sent the first man sprawling.

Stephanie hit the dock behind him, kicking a third dealer square in the back before he could draw his pistol. “You know,” she said between hits, “you guys should really unionize. Might get better benefits than this.”

Gunfire cracked, sharp and wild, cutting through the fog.

“Steph! Cover!” Bruce barked, and she dove behind a forklift as bullets chewed through the air where she’d been. He moved in, fast and brutal, disarming the shooter with a blow to the ribs and an elbow that broke his nose clean.

Cassandra emerged again from the smoke, landing a clean roundhouse that dropped another man instantly. She didn’t speak, but her movements said everything; controlled, deliberate, efficient.

“South side’s clear,” Dick reported, vaulting over a crate. He flipped his baton, knocking a gun out of another man’s hand. “You good, Steph?”

“Peachy,” she said, popping up from cover and landing a solid kick to the last standing dealer. The man hit the dock hard and didn’t move.

Within minutes, the sounds of the fight faded—leaving only the crash of waves and the hiss of the wind between the containers.

Bruce stood at the center of it all, chest rising and falling beneath his armor. He looked over the scene: unconscious men, shattered crates, Venom vials spilling across the concrete.

Dick exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “That’s the fourth one this month,” he muttered. “You think it’s connected to Black Mask again?”

Bruce was silent, scanning the area. “No. Something else is pushing distribution. Too organized.”

Steph nudged one of the crates with her boot. “Then who?”

Bruce didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered on the shadowy edge of the pier—darkness pooling unnaturally deep between the lampposts. For just a second, he thought he saw movement. Something that didn’t belong.

Then it was gone.

Cassandra stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You see it too,” she said quietly.

Bruce didn’t respond. He turned instead toward the Batmobile parked several blocks away, the faintest flicker of unease passing behind his stoic expression.

“Bag and tag everything,” he said. “We’ll analyze it back at the cave.”

Dick and Stephanie exchanged a glance.

The fog thickened as they moved out, swallowing the last traces of the fight. The harbor lights flickered once, and in the dark water below, something shifted—watching them go.

The night at the docks was too quiet. Too clean. The air itself felt heavy with wrongness, the kind that settled in the gut before a fight.

Bruce crouched on the rusted edge of a shipping container, eyes scanning the maze of metal and shadow below. The workers moved with practiced precision, unloading crates marked with coded insignias he had seen before. Venom, again. The operation had been resurrected faster than expected.

Steph’s voice came low through the comms. “Fifteen hostiles, maybe sixteen if that guy behind the truck isn’t just smoking. Same product as last time.”

“Copy,” Bruce replied. “Cass, north perimeter. Steph, stay close. Dick, take the east approach.”

Cassandra’s silent acknowledgment came in a short click over comms. Dick’s voice followed, steady but taut with anticipation. “On your go, Bruce.”

Bruce waited. Watched, counted the rhythm of movement, the steady pulse of opportunity in the dark. Then he moved.

Cass struck first, a blur of motion, her fists finding pressure points before her targets even realized she was there. Bruce dropped from above, cape flaring, the crack of impact echoing like thunder. Dick was a flash of blue and black, his escrima sticks sparking as he cleared the path ahead.

Steph kept their flank covered, moving swiftly between shadows. Her punches landed clean, her kicks sharp. She smiled behind her mask, a flicker of pride breaking through the adrenaline. “Almost too easy,” she muttered.

“Don’t say that,” Dick warned.

The shot came before the words finished leaving his mouth.

It tore through the dark, a sharp, vicious sound that froze everything. Steph stumbled, her hand flying to her side, her body collapsing against the concrete. The bright purple of her suit grew darker, spreading red beneath her fingers.

“Steph!” Dick’s voice cracked as he sprinted toward her.

Bruce was already there, sliding beside her and pulling a patch from his gauntlet. His movements were automatic, efficient, but his chest felt tight. “Stay with me,” he said, pressing the sealant into place. Steph’s breathing hitched, uneven.

Cass landed nearby, her eyes wide. “Through,” she said softly. “Bullet went through.”

“Alfred, prep the med bay,” Bruce ordered. “Now.”

They finished the fight in silence. Cass and Dick tore through the last of the men with brutal precision, no words, no mercy. By the time Bruce carried Steph to the Batmobile, the air around them was thick with gunpowder and guilt.

The Batcave was colder than usual when they arrived. The echo of Bruce’s boots on stone matched the steady rhythm of Steph’s shallow breathing. Alfred had the med bay ready, his sleeves rolled up, hands steady but pale.

“Lay her here,” Alfred said, voice tight but controlled. Bruce obeyed. Alfred worked fast, cutting through fabric, cleaning blood, and sealing the wound with practiced efficiency. Dick hovered near the table, face pale and jaw set. Cass lingered in the corner, silent, her eyes dark with worry.

Tim appeared on the stairs, confusion etched across his face. “What happened? You said recon, not engagement.”

Bruce turned sharply. “We didn’t have full intel. You were supposed to have the shipment routes mapped.”

Tim hesitated, the realization dawning. “I was helping Alfred with Y/N. She’s been...”

“Enough,” Bruce interrupted, his voice low but edged. “We can’t afford distractions when people’s lives depend on it.”

Tim’s expression fell. “I was trying to help your daughter.”

Bruce’s eyes hardened. “That’s not your concern.”

The words cut deeper than they sounded.

Tim’s pulse quickened, anger rising with every breath. He remembered empty nights in the Drake mansion, dinners for one, long stretches of silence when no one cared to ask where he was or what he felt. He had seen the same hollow ache in Y/N’s face—the kind of loneliness that didn’t come from being alone, but from being unseen.

And now Bruce, the man who had built a family out of broken people, was repeating the same pattern.

Tim’s voice broke through the hum of machinery. “You don’t even see it, do you? You’re mad at me for doing what you should have been doing.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched. “Watch your tone.”

“No,” Tim said, louder now, the frustration spilling over. “I wouldn’t have to focus on Y/N if you took care of your daughter like you’re supposed to.”

The silence afterward was deafening.

Bruce didn’t move. His expression didn’t shift, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him. Dick’s eyes flicked between the two, ready to step in, but even he couldn’t find words to break the tension.

“Get out,” Bruce said quietly.

Tim froze. For a moment, he thought about arguing, about pushing back until Bruce heard him, but the sight of Alfred bent over Stephanie’s bloodied body stopped him cold. He turned and left without another word.

The sound of his footsteps faded up the stairs until only the beeping of the monitors and Alfred’s calm, precise voice filled the space.

Bruce stood motionless. Dick rubbed his face, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his voice. “That was harsh,” he muttered.

Cass remained silent, her gaze on Bruce. She didn’t speak, but there was disappointment in the way she looked at him.

Bruce didn’t respond. His mind had already started to spiral.

Tim’s words repeated, clear and cutting: If you took care of your daughter like you’re supposed to.

They settled into his thoughts like a weight he couldn’t shake. Why were they all so fixated on Y/N? Why was his team scattered, their focus slipping away from the mission? He had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to have them lose sight of what mattered.

If he finished this case, if he found this stalker once and for all, maybe they’d remember their priorities. Maybe they’d remember why he built this team in the first place.

He turned toward the Batcomputer, the glow of the monitors casting his face in cold light.

Behind him, Dick helped Alfred clean up, his voice low, steady, and worried. Cass stood silently by Steph’s bedside, her fingers lightly brushing Steph’s wrist to make sure she was still breathing.

But Bruce didn’t see any of it.

He focused on the case file on the screen. Names. Routes. Data. A world he could control.

If he stayed here, in this clarity, the noise may fade. Maybe the doubts would go quiet.

He stared at the glowing screen, jaw set, and forced the words echoing in his head to disappear.

Solve the case. Fix the problem. Get control back.

That was what mattered.

Tim had not gone to bed.

He sat at his desk, the blue light from his monitors spilling across his face in sharp angles. His room was quiet except for the faint buzz of the computer fans and the hum of Gotham’s night pressing faintly against the windows. The chair creaked every so often when he shifted, though he barely moved.

His notes were still open on one of the screens. The footage from the café on another. He kept replaying it over and over, watching the moment Y/N turned to leave, the blur of the man waving after her. It was impossible to make out a face. Every filter he ran, every enhancement tool he coded, only made it worse. The image warped. The pixels bled. The shadows deepened until it looked as if something were eating away at the frame.

Tim dragged a hand over his face, feeling the ache behind his eyes. Bruce’s words still echoed in his head, low and sharp. Priorities. Real problems. Minor inconveniences.

He should not have cared this much. Not about one person. Not about her.

And yet, every time he thought of Y/N standing in that driveway with that letter clutched in her hand, her breath coming too fast, her eyes wide with something close to terror, he felt sick.

He remembered how Bruce brushed it off.

He remembered Alfred’s face when they read the new message.

He remembered doing nothing when Bruce dismissed them.

Tim leaned forward until his forehead pressed against the cool edge of the desk. He tried to breathe evenly, but his chest felt tight.

The glow from the monitors flickered once, then again, as if the power was about to dip. Tim frowned, looking up. Every screen had gone a little darker, though he hadn’t changed anything. The café recording opened again, looping silently.

Y/N walking away. The man is waving.

Then, for half a second, the blur around the man’s face seemed to turn.

It was not possible. The camera was stationary.

But for that half second, the dark static aligned in the vague shape of a grin.

Tim’s pulse jumped. He pushed back from the desk, staring. The image stayed still now, nothing wrong, nothing moving, just shadows on a feed that should not mean anything.

He sat there for another long minute before reaching over and shutting down every monitor. The hum stopped, the room suddenly feeling too quiet, too empty.

Tim leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

He thought of Bruce and how he had called Y/N a distraction.

He thought of how Alfred had looked when she came home shaking.

He thought of his own reflection, how tired it had looked lately, how much it resembled the man downstairs in the cave.

Maybe Bruce was right. Maybe Tim had lost focus.

Still, when he finally pushed himself off the chair and crawled into bed, one thought circled back like a broken record:

If he didn’t look after her, no one would.

And in the faint silence before sleep caught him, something in the corner of his room shifted, so slight he could have imagined it. The air grew colder.

He exhaled and stood, pulling on the sweatshirt he’d left draped over his chair. The manor was cold this early, the kind of cold that seeped into the walls and stayed there. He told himself he was only walking to clear his head, that he needed space from the noise in his thoughts, but his steps carried him down the long hallway before he even realized where he was heading.

Y/N’s door was half open.

The faint light from the hallway stretched across the room, soft and golden against the edges of her blanket. She was still asleep, curled on her side, breathing steadily. The curtains stirred slightly with the draft.

Tim hesitated in the doorway. He told himself to turn back. This wasn’t right; she deserved privacy, peace, rest. He had no reason to be here.

But he couldn’t make himself leave.

There was something about seeing her like this, so still, so small against the vastness of the room, that made his chest tighten. The bruised shadows beneath her eyes had faded, though not wholly. The corners of her mouth twitched now and then, the way people do when they’re trapped somewhere between a dream and a memory.

He stepped inside quietly, his hands in his pockets, his heartbeat too loud.

The morning light caught on the frame of the photo on her nightstand. A picture of her when she was younger and Alfred, her grin wide and awkward, his expression patient and proud. It made Tim’s throat ache.

He remembered being that small once.

He remembered waiting by the window for parents who never came home.

He remembered telling himself they were just busy. That maybe if he stayed quiet, if he didn’t cause trouble, they’d notice him next time.

And suddenly, looking at her, that old feeling crawled back into him, the one that had never really gone away.

The loneliness.

The waiting.

The ache of wanting someone to see you and realizing they probably never would.

Tim swallowed hard and lowered himself into the chair by her desk. He stayed there for a while, elbows on his knees, staring at the pattern of light moving slowly across the floor.

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t fix this; not for her, not for himself, not for anyone. Bruce was too far gone into his mission, the family was stretched thin, and Alfred could only hold so much together before it broke.

But sitting here, listening to her breathe, Tim felt something steady for the first time in a long time.

He wasn’t the lonely boy in the empty house anymore. He wasn’t forgotten.

And neither was she.

He stood just as the first full wash of sunrise touched the windows, soft gold spilling over the walls. He lingered for a moment longer, his hand brushing the doorframe before he turned and left as quietly as he came.

Behind him, Y/N stirred faintly in her sleep, brow creasing like she’d felt the air shift.

The early morning light filtered in through the tall windows, soft and gray, glinting off the marble floor. Her footsteps sounded too loud in the hallway. For a moment, she thought about turning back, crawling into bed, and pretending none of this existed. But the smell of coffee and something sweet drew her forward.

The kitchen was full when she stepped inside.

Dick sat at the counter, one hand curled around a mug, looking like he hadn’t slept. Jason leaned against the wall, a permanent frown carved into his face, arms crossed as if daring the room to challenge him. Alfred stood by the stove, quiet but sharp-eyed, stirring something that steamed faintly.

And at the far end of the table sat her.

Cassandra Cain.

Y/N froze, her breath catching before she could stop herself. She knew that face. She knew that posture, the stillness that wasn’t still at all, the way her eyes tracked everything, the way her presence filled the room without a word.

In the comics, Cass had been silent, deadly, and compassionate all at once. Here, she was real. Solid. The quiet between her and the others wasn’t awkward; it was instinctive. Like the silence was a language only she spoke.

Y/N shifted her weight and muttered a soft, uncertain “morning,” to no one in particular.

Dick glanced up, managing a tired smile. “Hey. You’re up.”

Jason grunted something that might’ve been a greeting. Cass didn’t move. She just looked at Y/N for a beat, eyes unreadable, before dipping her head in a slow, almost polite nod.

Y/N nodded back before slipping into the nearest chair. The silence stretched, filled only by the faint hiss of the coffee machine and the clink of Alfred’s spoon against a mug.

“Coffee?” Dick asked, voice low.

“Sure,” Y/N said, though she didn’t feel like drinking anything. She wrapped her hands around the warm cup when Alfred set it in front of her. The warmth helped steady the tremor in her fingers.

Something was wrong. She could feel it. The tension in the air wasn’t just tiredness; it was worry. Fear, maybe. No one was saying anything, but the silence wasn’t comfortable. It was hiding something.

After a moment, she glanced at the empty chair across from Cass. “Is Steph coming down too?” she asked, careful and casual, like she wasn’t trying to read the room.

The words landed like a stone in water.

Alfred froze. Dick’s head dropped slightly. Cass looked down. Jason sighed.

“She’s not coming,” Jason said, his voice edged and tired.

Y/N frowned, glancing between them. “What do you mean?”

Jason pushed off the wall, dragging a hand through his hair. “She got shot last night.”

The words hit her like ice water. “What?”

Dick shot Jason a sharp look, reprimanding, before turning to Y/N. “She’s okay,” he said quickly. “She’s stable. It was a bad night, but Alfred handled it. She’s resting.”

Y/N’s throat tightened. “That doesn’t sound fine,” she murmured.

“We didn’t want you to worry,” Dick said softly.

Jason scoffed. “Yeah, because that always works out.”

“Jason,” Alfred warned, still not turning from the stove.

Jason didn’t respond, just folded his arms again, jaw clenched.

Y/N stared into her coffee. The steam blurred her reflection. Her mind spun with fragments, Steph laughing, bright and reckless; her being shot, lying somewhere bleeding. She didn’t know her well, but the thought still made her chest ache.

No one spoke for a long time. Even the air felt heavy.

Finally, Jason muttered, voice rough, “She’ll be fine. She’s tougher than the rest of us combined.”

Dick nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. “She’ll bounce back. She always does.”

Y/N managed a quiet, “Yeah,” but it sounded small.

Cass looked up then. Their eyes met, just for a second, and Y/N thought she saw something there. Not pity, not sympathy. Something quieter. Understanding.

Then Cass looked away, her face unreadable again, and the silence fell over them once more.

Y/N took another sip of coffee she couldn’t taste, pretending she didn’t notice the weight pressing down on everyone, pretending that everything would go back to normal.

It wouldn’t. She could feel it.

Before she could dwell on it, Tim entered the kitchen with the hollow look of someone who hadn’t slept in days. His hoodie was creased, his hair pushed back like he’d dragged his fingers through it one too many times. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the room; the silence, the coffee cups, the lingering smell of burnt toast.

For a moment, no one said anything.

Then Dick started, his voice careful, too light for how brittle the air felt. “Hey, Tim. You should eat something. Alfred—”

“I’m fine,” Tim said flatly, cutting him off without looking his way.

The sharpness in his tone froze the air again. Jason’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t comment. Alfred sighed softly behind the counter. Cass turned her gaze toward the window.

Tim walked straight past all of them until he stood beside Y/N. He didn’t say anything right away, just leaned slightly against the counter next to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his shoulder brushing hers. His posture was tight, his eyes scanning the mug in her hands like he was counting her breaths.

Y/N blinked, startled. The last time she’d spoken to Tim was weeks ago, his sarcasm still sharp, his patience already worn thin. He hadn’t so much as looked at her since. Now he was standing beside her like he was guarding her.

She shifted in her chair, uncertain. “Uh… morning.”

Tim finally turned to her. His voice was quieter than she expected. “Morning.”

Dick cleared his throat, trying again. “Tim…”

Tim ignored him completely. His focus stayed locked on Y/N, his eyes flicking briefly toward her bag near the chair, then back to her. There was tension in the way he stood; shoulders hunched, but every muscle alert, as if he were waiting for something to happen.

“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” he asked suddenly.

Y/N hesitated. “What?”

“Out,” he repeated. “You can bring your laptop, study somewhere else. I have to go over some Wayne Enterprises stuff, but…” He trailed off, shrugging like it didn’t matter. “It’s better than sitting around here.”

Dick frowned. “Tim, I don’t think…”

But Y/N was already nodding. The air in the kitchen felt suffocating; the quiet grief, the tension still hanging heavy from the night before. And Tim looked… different. Not angry. Just exhausted, but determined in a way she didn’t understand.

“Okay,” she said softly.

Tim blinked, as if he hadn’t expected her to agree so easily. Then he nodded once. “Good. Ten minutes.”

He turned and left as abruptly as he came, footsteps fading down the hall toward the garage.

Y/N stared after him, then looked down at her untouched coffee. “He seems…”

“Like he hasn’t gotten over it,” Jason muttered.

Y/N’s head cocks in confusion, and tries to ask about what, but Dick already starts to speak, sighing, he rubs his temples. “He’s been under a lot of pressure.”

Alfred set down his spoon and gave Y/N a look that was half warning, half worry. “Please do be careful.”

“I will,” Y/N promised, though her chest felt tight. She didn’t really know why she said yes, maybe because Tim looked like he needed company more than she needed peace, maybe because she couldn’t take the silence of this house anymore.

Maybe because if she sat still too long, she’d start thinking about the letter again.

Either way, she grabbed her bag and went to get ready, ignoring the faint tremor in her hands.

Outside, she could already hear the low rumble of the car engine waiting in the driveway.

Next Chapter

A/N: Maybe a little Dami action next chapter

Taglist: @shycreatorreview @lilyalone @cupid73 @thatbitchanna27 @jovialthings @shirayukiuzukaze @bk-4-trash-fire @coldcomputerpanda @faelvz @lunadi1una @cssammyyarts @yuurisfavblog @mymmyrym @wosoarchives @chaosandcandies @natllo @vikkus-main @unclearblur @calico-cheriies @maaaahhhiii @odetteandink @yuurisfavblog @degenerates-posts @

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[maryyloveslilacs]

I've been binged reading this series and damn it is peak🔥🔥🔥

[maryyloveslilacs]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader Idea

part 2 of this

A/N : Hi guys! Thank you so much for all of the comments, likes and reposts. I really appreciated it! Sorry if part 2 takes too long but yeah I finally got courage enough to post it lol

English isn’t my first language. So sorry if it’s hard to read, having any mistakes, misspelling or grammatically incorrect sentences. Hope you guys enjoy it! 

TW : Death, Suicide Attempts if you squint, Bullying

divider by @cafekitsune

Alfred is the first one who remembers everything and he is the first one to make a move, he confronts you about the bullies telling you that he noticed it and he couldn’t wait until the situation became worse (it sadly did). You, who are already tired and couldn’t tolerate and hide it anymore, confess everything to Alfred. You are so tired and don’t want to go to school anymore, you don’t want to see those bullies and get hurt by them again. You cry so hard until you fall asleep in Alfred’s embrace.

Alfred calls in sick to your school and decides to approach Bruce before he drives Damian to school. He tells Bruce that tomorrow is your birthday and he wishes he would stay for it. Unfortunately Bruce brushes it off and starts to prepare for an outer space mission he has with the justice league. Alfred couldn’t accept this anymore and blurts out “Master Bruce, This is really important. Miss (Y/N) got bullied at school, Do you know it?” Bruce stiffen. He stops everything and asks Alfred back “What do you mean?” Alfred sees a chance and tells Bruce about everything, every single word you had told him and every cuts and bruises he saw on your body.

Bruce’s mind goes spiraling. You got bullied? Who did it? How long? When did it start? How much did you get hurt? Where are you now?

Alfred senses Bruce’s anxiety and answers “She’s sleeping in her bed and I already called in sick to the school.” Afterwards, he goes to the garage preparing to take Damian to school, leaving Bruce alone with his anxiety and spiral mind. Alfred knows how important you are to Bruce. Blood related or not, you are still the only child that he had raised since an infant. Bruce has a soft spot for you and knowing you got bullied and tried to hide it made his heart shattered. Do you not trust him? Is he not trustworthy? Is he an inadequate father? He thinks too much until he gets a headache. Suddenly everything is so blurry and all of the memories about your death rush into his thought. He canceled the mission right away and rushed to your room. Seeing you sleeping safely and sound calms him down a little bit. But the cuts and bruises that appear outside the sleeves and pants made the yandere develop inside him. How dare those bullies did this to you? He picks up his phone and tries to take a photo of your wounds as quietly as possible so that he wouldn’t wake you up from your peaceful sleep. His hands gently brush your hair out of your face. Eyes full of sadness and guilt. He still remembers how cold and lifeless you were when he saw your body in the batcave with Jason beside you. His fragile little angel. He’s not going to make the same mistake again.

Bruce gathers the batfam (except Damian) down the batcave, saying it was an emergency. He demanded Dick to cancel the mission he had with the titans and it confused him, confused all of them. This has to be literally an emergency that he demands all of the family right here in the batcave or they will really piss off. 

Jason : What the fuck B? Why are you gathering us at 8 in the morning? because if it ain’t emergency enough I’m gonna—

Bruce : (Y/N) got bullied at school.

It is really an emergency. They were all shocked by the information Bruce had told them. Bruises and cuts outside your shirts and pants display on the screen reminding them how much they have failed you.

Dick : H—how long is this?

Bruce : I’m not sure but probably 5 months

When Alfred comes back from taking Damian to school and buying some groceries at the supermarket, he already sees most of the batfam down the cave investigating about those bullies and what they had done to you. He felt relieved all of the sudden. Even though there’s no guarantee that you will live through your birthday, still he believes that Bruce and your siblings won’t let something like that happen again.

Tim decided to go to your bedroom. He has to confirm with his own eyes that something like this really happened. He prides himself to be a caring brother even if he rarely talks to you, he still tracks your location, makes sure you went home safely, even when Alfred told him you went to your friends’ house to do some group project. Then it sparks in his thought. He was so reckless. Those friends weren’t actually your friends and those many group projects weren’t a group project. You got bullied all along but he didn't notice it. Seeing cuts and bruises around your limbs shocked him more. How dare they? HowdaretheyHowdaretheyHowdarethey?!

All of the batfam slowly got the memories of your death back, the last person to remember is Damian. He still doesn't know what happened to you until you go downstairs to have dinner with the family. You wear a basic t-shirt with shorts. Eyes puffed from crying. And Damian immediately notices them. He’s not stupid. He knows what those cuts are from. Suddenly, an image of your cold body flashes through his mind, he has to make an excuse to go to the bedroom to clear his mind because those weird memories rush into his thought. No one minds Damian's sudden behavior. They all know what happened because it had happened to them before.

The way the batfam stared at you during dinner was very awkward for you. They didn’t say anything, just staring like they were waiting for you to say something. You just ate your food quietly and went to bed. You don’t know what happened to them and you don’t really care. Tomorrow is your birthday and Alfred promises to take you out to your favorite café. 

Hours later Dick walks into your room. Your steady breath echoes in his mind reminding him that you are already asleep and you wouldn’t wake up any time soon since Alfred put sleeping pills into your glass of water. He presses a gentle kiss on your forehead before cradling your body into his arms and slowly walks down to the batcave.

Dick feels like he’s going to cry when he sees you again. That incident breaks him. You were suffering from bullying while he went on the mission. Would you think he doesn’t love you? Would you think he left you? He hopes you didn’t have those thoughts because it’ll break him more.

When he arrived at the cave, Dr.Leslie was already there. He gently put you on an operating table and let her do her job. Leslie must admit that this is one of the stressful operations in her life. She was called to put a microchip into Bruce’s daughter's body and most of them (Tim and Jason aren’t there) stare at her like if she makes any mistake, they’ll kill her in a blink of an eye. Everything is done and Dr.Leslie heads back, leaving batfam with their own thoughts. After that Jason and Tim are back into the cave.

Tim : The camera settings in her room and the hallway in front of her room are done. Tomorrow I’ll add cameras around the manor.

Tim informs Bruce and he just nods while checking on the computer if the cameras are really working. They won’t let anything happen to you again. The microchip they put into not only detect your location but also detect your heartbeat. If something strange happens, it’ll report to the cave immediately.

Tomorrow comes and you are so excited because you are going to hang out with Alfred today. Little did you know something unexpected is waiting for you in the evening. The plan is Alfred will take you to hang out outside while the batfam will prepare for your birthday party and when you come back, they will surprise and apologize for everything they had done. Hopefully you’ll forgive them, right?

They are really really wrong ‘cause when you come back and see all of your family appear out of nowhere singing happy birthday to you, you run upstairs to your room immediately. You lock yourself up in your room and try to process what actually happens to your family, leaving them confused if they have done anything wrong.

(And for those bullies, many days later you see the news on the TV that they went missing. You wonder where they went but never say anything about it since you don't want to see them again. Even though you heard your dad and siblings talking about ‘an experiment’ on someone but you just pay no mind. Their vigilante life is none of your business and you don’t want to get involved either.)

A/N : There might be a part 3 of this, expanding batfam relationship with reader after their yonder get develop. I'm currently working on it, not sure when will I post it tho.

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[cafekitsune]

ANIMATED LINES | myth 001.

──────── ⵌ LIGHTSEEKER ..

──────── ⵌ FORESEER ...

──────── ⵌ ABYSS WALKER ...

──────── ⵌ RELENTLESS CONQUEROR ...

──────── ⵌ FARSPACE COLONEL ...

listen …… it’s insane how much this game has consumed me. am I crying over hot fictional men ? yes. their lore is just heart wrenching. anyway ! I wanted to do their standard myth colours in my animated line collection. :’))) hope you like !

heads up, since these are soooo smolllll it’s better to save these via desktop !

blends : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004

read my pinned for usage rules !! like, reblog, and credit if you use :)

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[maryyloveslilacs]

I’m not sure if you guys have read an isekai manhwa but this scene from the manhwa named ‘Villains are destined to die’ stuck in my mind and I just thought that what if it’s Bruce and Neglected!reader conversation instead. It’s the talking scene from chapter 152.

A/N : English isn’t my first language and this is my first time writing a one shot so please be kind to me. I also used a translator in some sentences. So sorry if it’s hard to read or there are some misspelling and mistakes. Hope you guys enjoy it!

This post got inspired by manhwa Villains are destined to die chapter 152. You can read it on Tapas!

TW: Mention of starving, death and neglecting

A little background : GN!reader was isekai’d into a batfam fanfic they had read as a villainess and Bruce adopted them after ‘Yvon’ his child with his passed away spouse got lost. The batboys think that Bruce adopted you to replace Yvon so they kinda feel awkward around you and some of them hate you.

divider by @cafekitsune

“(Y/N), Do you remember the first time I met you?” You didn't answer Bruce back, letting him continue.

“You were so small and skinny. Your eyes looked so dull begging for food unlike a child's and it made me worried that Yvon would end up like you somewhere” Your small and skinny figure appears in Bruce’s mind. He still remembers that day clearly even if it has been 10 years.

“Everytime I passed by, I tried to give you some food and one day you smiled at me for the first time when I gave you money.”

Your (E/C) suddenly got brighter when you see a lot of money on your hands. You said thank you to him. Eyes full of hope thinking this money could buy you your mother medicine so that her condition would get better. It was the first time he saw you smile and it made his heart ache. A kid like you shouldn’t have a miserable life like this. You shouldn't worry about anything. You should go to school and hang out with kids your age.

“The hope of finding Yvon had slowly faded away and you were starving to death next to your mother's corpse. I couldn’t leave you like that. So I made a decision to take you in.”

‘Do you want to come with me?’ Younger Bruce Wayne knelt down to your level. You were only 7-8 years old Bruce supposed.

Your (E/C) looked up at him. Nothing flashed in those (E/C) eyes but fear and hesitation. You knew him. You knew he was the Bruce Wayne. Everyone in Gotham knows him. But was he worth trusting? 

Could you trust this man in front of you who gave you food when your mum laid dead beside you? But mum always taught you to not trust people easily especially in this city.

Bruce sensed your fear and said ‘I would take you as my child and feed you so that you won’t starve anymore.’

At that moment you didn’t have many choices. Go with him or starve to death here beside your mother. You chose to go with him.

Those memories rush into your mind. Your hands clenched tightly together without you realizing it. This was information you didn't know before. The author never mentioned the past story between you and Bruce in the fic. You paid no mind about it since you truly believed he brought you in just to replace Yvon and the guilt of not finding his lost child.

“I was a fool. I took you in but I didn’t know how to raise you.” Bruce admitted. His gaze lowered to his hands that nervously placed on the desk.

“I did you wrong so many times. I thought that just giving you anything you asked for and ignoring you when you had done something bad would be enough.”

“It was not enough. I know. When I saw you sneak out with your friends during that night it scared me. I’m scared you will end up like Yvon. I didn’t know how much you deeply cared for them and I just want you to be safe.”

“So If you want to keep hanging out with those friends, it’s ok. But please don’t skip the meal again. I don’t want you to get sick.” His voice showed genuine concern. But it left you confused. 

You still haven’t said anything. You just don’t understand. There’s so many chances for him to talk about it but he always brushed it off. What’s the point of bringing it up now when you already give up and finally find out how to come back to your real world. You don’t really care anymore whether he would let you do or not do anything.

“No, it’s ok. I won’t hang out with them anymore. I know they have a bad influence on me.” You reply bluntly. Your eyes met Bruce's blue eyes, and it made him shiver. The eyes that had once begged for his love were now empty. As if you had never known him before.

“But I thought you—”

“Mr. Wayne, You don’t need to worry about me.” Bruce’s eyes widened. He stood up quickly with his hands slapped on his working desk. 

“(Y/N), What—”

“I owed you a lot while staying in the manor for 10 years replacing Yvon. I don't want this family to be insulted or humiliated because of me. I know I don’t belong here. I will leave quietly after my 18th birthday.” 

“Leaving? How can you leave (Y/N)?! You’re only 17!”

“Your real child has returned. No need to celebrate my 18th birthday anymore. You can just cancel it.”

“(Y/N) Wayne!!” Bruce shouted without realizing. He was shocked that his child could say such words with such an indifferent expression.

“I know there will be some bad news after you cancel it. But if you celebrate Yvon's birthday instead and make it really big, I’m sure those reporters won’t pay any attention.”

“I don’t care about what people will think!” Bruce sighed. He can’t even look into your eyes right now. Afraid of seeing that expression. The expression of yours that has nothing in it. You used to be so easily upset and threw a tantrum when something didn’t come out as you wanted. Now you just accept it willingly like it doesn’t affect you.

It does affect you but what can you do? You have failed so many times it made you realize that your voice, your opinion, your thoughts or anything about you aren't important anymore. Just tolerate it. Suppress it deep until you feel nothing so that his ignoring, their ignoring wouldn’t hurt you anymore.

“Your birthday is an event that comes only one time in a year and I really want it to be the best. I missed your birthday so many times but this time I won’t. I know it’s too late but still I really want to make it up.” Your mind starts to spiral. You don’t know how to feel, don’t know what you should say in this situation.

“To be honest, I’m so happy that Yvon has come back. I even cried that night. But (Y/N), you are my child too. Since the day I brought you into this manor. You aren’t here to replace anyone. Am I wrong to want to celebrate my child's birthday?”

You clenched your hands tightly. Gaze lowered to your hands. Afraid of him seeing how much his words affect you. This shouldn’t happen. You already prepared everything in case Bruce decided to kick you out or punish you when he thinks you do something harmful to Yvon. But hearing him confess everything? You didn’t prepare for this.

“Then why don’t you do what I ask for?” Your voice quivers and luckily Bruce doesn’t notice. You try so hard to suppress the tears that threaten to fall off. You don’t understand why you feel this feeling inside your chest. This man in front of you is just a fictional character. You are only here to replace his adopted child. You aren’t the real (Y/N). You aren’t his child.

“The party is tomorrow and I have already organized everything—(Y/N)?” Bruce stopped mid sentence when he saw the fat tears that slowly fell off from your bright (E/C) eyes. He approaches you immediately, hands holding your face while his thumb gently wipe the tears out of your face.

“(Y/N)? sweetheart? Why are you crying? Do you really want to cancel the party? I can cancel it right now. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Please don’t cry. I will cancel it.” Bruce said quickly, his hand slowly sliding down to embrace your trembling body, trying to comfort you.

You hug him back with your face slumped on his shoulder. Letting out a sobbing sound that you tried to hold back. He’s just a fictional character. But right now you feel like you are his real child.

“Dad”

That's the first time in six years you've called Bruce 'Dad'.

A/N : This comes out not that good as I expected and I used all of my free time writing this but still I want to share it with you guys :/ btw no part 2 sorry :(

[cafekitsune]

ANIMATED LINES | blend.

──────── ⵌ RAINBOW ...

──────── ⵌ DAWN ...

──────── ⵌ SUNSET ...

( requested by → @suncreamz )

ahhhhh, these colours are so pleasing it makes me so happy heheh 🤍🤍🤍 ! I added other sizes because why not heehee

again, I recommend saving this via desktop because some of them are suuuuper smol and thin and hard to save on mobile :s

blends : 001 / 002 / 003 / 004

please like, reblog, and credit 〜

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[maryyloveslilacs]

OMGGGGG

YOUR IDEA IS SOOO COOL!!!!

COSVXJFJSBSOFHSKHDHRJFNDND

YOUR WRITING MADE IT EVEN COOLER

CISHDJFIOWBSKSLANDOFHEKNR

UPON MY BENDED KNEES,

I SHALL BESEECH THEE FOR THE SECOND PART OF WONDEROUS TALE

ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ

(⊙_⊙)

Thank you so much!!! I'm working on part 2 but I won't promised that it will be posted since there's a lot of mistake and I think it ain't good enough. Anyway thank you again. I appreciate it a lot😊😊

[maryyloveslilacs]

I have this idea of a Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Female!Reader in which Batfam came back one day before reader died and reader was dead on reader’s birthday and I just want to post it. English isn’t my first language so sorry for the grammar mistakes and misspelling. Might have some OOC and some wrong timeline. Please be kind to me (Part 2 is here!)

Edited : Thank you for all of the comments I really appreciated it! But I'm sorry to break the news, I wouldn't turn this idea into a fic because I don't have time. I'm really busy with my school project right now. If there's anyone who wants to turn it into a fic, you can do it but please dm me first!! thank you!!

Tw: Neglected, Bullying, Gore, Death (If I miss something please don’t be afraid to tell me so I can add it.)

(No specific age but reader is older than Damian and younger than Tim)

Reader is Dick’s biological sister. You were just an infant when all the accidents happened. You barely had memories with your parents. Your life growing up only has Bruce, Alfred and Dick. At first everything was good. Bruce was a caring father, Dick was a caring and clingy brother who always spent time for his sister because you were the only left that reminded him of his parents but then the vigilante mantle made them slowly fade away. Suddenly your father and your brother become busy and don't have time for you anymore. You were just a kid and didn't get it. You asked Alfred and he said that they were busy but they still love you and they will make it up later. You believed it with all your heart. You were just a kid. While Barbara barely interacts with you. She knows that you are Dick sister and is a good kid. She only knew you from what Dick told her.

Timeskip Dick left for Bludhaven and it broke your heart. Like you lived in the same manor but you barely saw your brother and now he decided to move away?? Heartbreaking. But one day a boy named Jason Todd walked into your life. At first Jason didn't like you, thinking you were some spoiled rich kid. But no you were raised well by Alfred so yeah you are a good kid, good manner. You and Jason become inseparable. Dick started to come back to the manor and visit you and Jason more often so You were very happy!!

And yeah..Jason died. You were devastated. You woke up one day and didn't see your brother anymore. You asked everyone but no one told you where he had gone, why did Jason gone?? What happened?? No one told you about it. The manor became more gloomy and Dick didn't visit the manor anymore. You didn't smile anymore and it broke Alfred's heart. You became more lonely. Then Tim Drake walked into your life. You still missed Jason but you were excited that you were going to have a new brother. You wanted to be close to Tim too! Unfortunately, Tim thought you were a vigilante but no, you were a normal civilian and he didn't know how to act to you so decided to avoid you. Tim cared for his sister. He tracked your location to make sure you came home safely. He knew your routine, knew you didn't have many friends etc. But what he didn't know is that you thought Tim didn't like you. It saddened you even more.

Then Dick came to visit more but he only spent time with Tim. He often said "Next time, (N/N) Promised!" but he never kept the promise. In the family dinner you didn't understand what the others were talking about and started to feel left out. You didn't speak anymore and just ate your food quietly. Then Stephanie came in. Like Tim, Steph didn't know how to interact with you either. You were such a good and naive kid. She was afraid she would break you. So she avoided you too.

You become lonely more and more. You then started to play piano. You are talented in music and you expressed your feelings in a song you had written. But sadly your song is full of sad songs. In school you barely interact with anyone. Everyone knew you were a Wayne and you were always in a school performance playing piano without one of your family showing up. You did tell your family about it and sometimes Alfred show up but it became more rare until you gave up and didn't tell anyone about it anymore

When Cass came into this family you had some hope that maybe this time Cass might not be like Tim and she wasn't. You became close to Cass. Cass likes Ballet, You like Piano. You wanted to play piano while Cass danced ballet along with your music. It did hurt you a lot when Bruce could show up to Cass dance ritual but not your music performance. You were jealous but still you loved your sister. But one day Cass really had a headache with the vigilante work and wanted some quiet peace. Unfortunately Cass heard you were playing piano and it made her head pounding even more. She unintentionally said some mean words to you. It hurts you so much but without music, you have nowhere to express your feelings and keep your mind at peace so you still play it. But that day your heart and relationship with Cass had shattered. You didn't talk to each other anymore and Cass felt so guilty she couldn't show up to meet you anymore.

Jason came back and it confused you so much. Your brother looked older but he didn't act like Jason or Jay you had known. At first you tried to reach out to him but always got rejected. It made your mind twist. This man was cold towards you. Jay would never be cold to you. Jay was kind and always smiled at you. This man was not Jay and it made you believe that this man in front of you was some random man who was imitating your dead brother. Because Jay would never do that. Jay would never ignore you and look at you with such a cold gaze.

Damian Wayne came into the manor. Like some typical neglected reader fic, Damian didn't point a sword at you or try to physically hurt you but he often said something mean to you. He said that you weren't worth the Wayne name. You are neither a vigilante nor a genius. Even though you tried to be nice because you thought he was just a kid, Damian ignored you a lot. Everything became worse when Dick came to spend time with Damian but not you. Imagine your biological brother, a brother who had been with you all your life just said "Please understand, Damian is blahblah—" It shattered you. Thinking that Dick didn't view you as his sister anymore. Why did he protect Damian, a boy who just came to the manor, when he said something hurtful to you, his biological sister? Why Dick didn’t protect you? Why did your brother take side with Damian? WhyWhyWhyWhyWhy

One day during late at night you heard some argument about the family vigilante work and suddenly you kinda get it. Everything was all connected. They ignored you because you weren't a vigilante. They didn't have anything related. Even though Dick and you are related by blood, you didn't have anything in common. You weren’t a vigilante. He can’t mentor you. That’s why he spent time with Tim and Damian.

So you thought that maybe you didn't belong here. You started to seek validation in school. You studied hard, practiced piano everyday. But it attracted you to a bully. You get bullied almost everyday. It became worse when the batfam didn't do anything (because you didn't tell your family and tried to hide it.) The bullies thought maybe you were some kind of unwanted child of the Wayne. Because if you were really a wanted child, your billionaire daddy and brothers would show up by now. The bullying became worse and more brutal until one day, it broke you.

It was your birthday and no one remembered it. Dick and Bruce had a mission in outer space. Tim stayed with the young justice. Jason was still in Gotham but didn't pass by the manor. Damian and Cass tried to ignore you as always. You went to school as usual but the bullies had some plans in their mind. That night you didn't come back to the manor and didn't leave any message. Alfred was worried and called urgently to the Batfam, who was still in Gotham. Which was Jason, Damian, Steph, Barbara and Cass.

Jason was the one who found your crooked bloody body laid dead in an alley. His hands were trembling, cradling your body into his chest. It was too late. He was too late. He was too shocked to process anything he said to the comm to call Doctor Lesley. Had some hope that you might be alive and still breathing. Lesley had to confirm to them that you were dead. You weren't breathing anymore. It shocked everyone and suddenly they just realized it's your birthday. You died without anyone remembering or celebrating your birthday. When Bruce, Dick and Tim heard the news. They hurried back to the manor and when all of the Batfam saw all of the bruises and scars all over your body, their hearts shattered.

Dick was the worst. The only one who still reminded him of his parents, his old roots, his old life in the circus had gone. It was your birthday and he went to the mission instead of staying to celebrate yours.

Barbara was too stunned. Yesterday she just saw you. Now you’re dead. You shouldn’t be dead. A beautiful and naive girl like you shouldn’t end like this. It’s too cruel.

Jason regrets his decision to avoid you. He knew he wasn't the same since he came back to life and he was afraid of hurting you. He regrets it. Your dead body still appeared clearly in his mind. If he noticed the bruises sooner, you would be alive.

Tim felt like he was going to throw up. He decided to clear his mind by staying with the young justice. He stopped tracking your location thinking it was only one week, nothing bad will happen to you. Jason, Cass and Steph were still in Gotham. He shouldn't do it. He should keep tracking. If he didn't stop, you would be home safely by now.

Just like Jason, Steph shouldn't avoid you. She should protect you but look at what happened. An angelic and naive you had gone because she was too late to realize that avoiding you wasn't protecting you at all.

Cass was too shocked to react to anything. You got harmed both physically and mentally by the bullied but what Cass did was rubbed salt into your wound. She also ignored you. She couldn't imagine how sad you would feel and it broke her.

Damian didn't know how to feel. He stayed in this manor for almost a year but all that time what he did was just ignored you. He said to himself that there was no reason for him to be sad about your death. But why did he go to your piano room every night and try to play the song you used to play?

Bruce is a failure. He failed Jason once and now he failed you too. He was busy saving the world while you were murdered on your birthday. He didn't even know you got bullied. But what did he know about you? He always asked Alfred about you. Alfred reported about you every day but did he really pay attention to what Alfred said? In his memory you were still a baby sleeping safe and sound in Dick arms. Not knowing you just lost your parents. That baby is now lying dead in front of him.

Alfred didn't say anything but he knew that it was his fault. He saw you everyday. He was the one who drove you to school and back to the manor. Why didn't he notice it? Why didn't he notice your sad gaze? Why didn't he notice you were wearing long sleeves when the weather was so hot? He was the one who raised you. Saw you since you were just a baby. Now you are gone. After Jason's death. He swore to himself to protect all of the children but he failed again. Alfred can't accept this. You shouldn't die. You were just a kid. A kid he vowed to protect and failed. There are so many things that are waiting for you. Your life shouldn't end like this. He will do anything, even if it means to sacrifice his life. He wants you to be happier.

Alfred wakes up in such a headache. Last night he drank too much alcohol thinking that it will make him see you again. It is such reckless behavior but then when he goes down stairs, he sees you sitting peacefully waiting for breakfast and smiling at him like nothing happened?

Alfred later finds out that he came back one day before your death. He got a chance and he has to make it. You have to be alive.