Synopsis: Death is cold and dancing on it is cold too. That day she danced with death, dancing to see who would dominate the dance. Death dominated.
Slowly, one by one the lights went out, four five in total, she thought she would never see them again.
So why did the lights come back on now? Why are they now in the mansion above her? Since when were they so bright? Since when did they burn?
“𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀”
WARNING: Suicidal thoughts, slight mentions of abuse, slow burn, Yandere themes, Child Neglect, Platonic!Batfamily x Fem!reader, mentions of blood and death.
[As the story progresses and the chapters continue, there will surely also be content warnings. But don't worry, at the beginning of each chapter there will be a warning if necessary.]
“𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖.𝐅
𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄!”
“𝐈 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘...”
First act: “From the roots”
• Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”
• Chapter I: “Happy birthday to you (me)”
• Chapter II: “Dancing with fabrics (and glances)”
• Chapter III: “I admired you” [Coming soon...]
• Chapter IV: “(CRIES) Whispers of conscience.” [Coming soon...]
“𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅...”
Second act: “From the plant”
• Chapter I: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter II: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter III: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter IV: [Coming soon...]
“𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎...”
Third act: “In the tree”
• Chapter I: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter II: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter III: [Coming soon...]
• Chapter IV: [Coming soon...]
“𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓”
Act Four: “The delicious apples...”
Chapter I: [Coming soon...]
Chapter II: [Coming soon...]
“𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄
𝐊𝐄𝐘...”
"Last" act: “...are rotten”
Final Chapter: [Coming soon...]
“𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 [𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄]”
NOTES: I FINALLY FINISHED IT, I love how it turned out and I hope you do too. I love you all muak muak💋💋
I also want to clarify something, anyone who wants to be on the taglist, let me know in the comments, so no one misses anything😽💖
Helloooo...Yes I know, it's just the inspiration to want to write more always comes when I'm STUPIDLY busy studying/doing something from school.
Well, that's my point. Will I continue with the series? Yes.
Will I start writing things outside of the series? Yes, too.
More than anything, to try to inspire myself or slowly regain my taste for it and not get stuck with the same idea/scenario. I will continue writing about the Batfamily, that's for sure, but it won't be just about the series anymore😽
But anyway, I'm very sorry for my inactivity, and I'm also not promising anything about being very active. I'll do things at my own pace so as not to overload my head🫶🏻
I love you all and thank you so much for the support, again, I'm sorry for my inactivity🫶🏻
@mariadvorak: “Love it!!! Can you show us the inspo of alfred's present ? Tnks for the chapter”
Of course!💋😽
Masterlist
The skirt:
• I got this from Pinterest while I was looking for the clothes I was going to describe, there were other ones among these but they weren't what I was looking for, so I decided on this skirt.
Shoulder pads (accessory):
• Just like with the skirt, here I had this one and another one in mind, but here it was faster because I immediately fell in love with this accessory.
Here is the other option.
The long fabric:
• Just as its name literally indicates, it is a long fabric to create tops just for you or whatever you imagine, I couldn't decide on just one so I opted to just say "And a long fabric" to let your imagination do its thing.
Let me say that with this I mean that these are the only combinations that can be made with the fabric, I will never describe in detail when the point comes to having to use it.
I'll leave that to your own imagination.
The fans:
• Regarding the design of the fans, it is not like that, unless you want, because as with the long fabric I will only specify certain details and that's it.
For example, with the fans I will only specify the colors, but I will leave the design to you.
But this video and another one were the ones that inspired me for the color of the fans and also the way [Name] danced before returning to her 15-year-old self.
And before finishing, a curious fact: This was the video that also inspired me when creating the scene at the beginning of the third chapter, when I heard the music like that I imagined [Name] dancing.
And with that I hope I have answered your question dear💋💋 muak muak muak😽
I was on a stage, too big to be a normal one or at least that was my perspective. I was wearing my suit, with the fans in my hands as the fabric touched the floor.
There was no one by my side, I was alone.
There was no one in the seats in the audience either, not a single person to watch me dance at that moment.
I let out a sigh. I started dancing.
The music in my head started playing but now it also started to be heard on the stage. slowly. Little by little. The music continued to grow.
I moved with the fabric of the fans that slowly became longer and longer.
I reached a point where I could no longer appreciate what was in front of me, I could no longer feel the cold floor of the theater.
But the lights. They were getting brighter as the music came to an end.
They wrapped me up in such a soft way, it was so suffocating.
I always wanted to be in the spotlight, to be the leader, to be the one leading the dance.
Why does it feel so different now?
I fell to my knees at the same time that the music slowly stopped along with that voice that made me remember that everything was a dream.
I hadn't realized how big the fan fabric was now, so long that it reached to the ends of the stage, The skirt also grew now it was so long and big that I couldn't stand up because of the weight of the fabric on my waist.
It shouldn't have been heavy, but it was.
It's too big for me.
When the fan fabric stopped, I fixed my gaze on the audience.
The only lights were above me, they moved where I was going but never where I wanted.
I couldn't shine light on them. I wanted to shine light on them to see their faces.
What expressions will they have? Are they waiting for me to keep dancing? Even though I can't get up, they want me to continue with the show?
Just talk, say it.
I will, just please...
Stop
Looking
at me.
[Name] immediately gets up from her bed feeling her heart beating quickly and painfully, her feet were numb as were her arms.
While she was sitting in her bed, she tried to relax. Is this what people call "lucid dreaming"?
When she finally felt her legs and arms move just a little to get used to it, it felt like a million ants were walking on her limbs.
She sighed and then tried to get up, she managed it but a little wobbly.
She grabbed a towel along with a set of clothes to go to the bathroom.
She loved her new room, I think it would be more accurate to call it her fiveteenth room.
Compared to the previous one, which was already starting to be quite small for her and too childish, in an attempt to free up her room a bit as she ran out of space.
She found a not so small door in the ceiling, she could barely open it and saw the enormous space that had moved to that hidden part of the mansion.
But obviously being a attic, it didn't have a bathroom, that was the only thing [Name] regretted.
Once she could feel her arms and feet much better she opened the attic door and carefully went down the stairs.
"What are you doing up there, little one?"
[Name] almost fell down the stairs from the fright, she immediately looked back even though she was on the stairs to...
"First with the child...and now with the hypocrite." [Name] thought, trying not to frown, well, not so much.
"Dick, you scared me!" She did her best to fake that squeaky voice she remembers.
And thank goodness it worked. Except for one small detail.
Dick frowned.
"Dick?"
"Did something happen? Or why that face?" She finally came down from the stairs and with a little force, she pushed the stairs up and in turn closed the attic door with a small 'click'.
"What face?"
"Well, you know, that confused face..." She smiled slightly, but inside her head she was analyzing him, exactly his expression.
Dick genuinely had a face of confusion hidden, he was smiling and using his body to express otherwise.
But his eyes narrowed for a few moments before she asked about his expression.
"Oh! Don't worry little one, It's just that I've never seen that attic, and with good reason."
Dick walked past [Name] and checked the entrance to the attic better, either tensely or intentionally the entrance was very well camouflaged.
[Name] nodded. "I thought you'd be in Bludhaven by now."
"I decided to stay a few days, mostly to rest." [Name] nodded again, keeping that small smile. "And you didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
Dick laughed at her confusion.
"What were you doing up there?"
[Name] opened her mouth slightly and then closed it instantly, What the hell could she say?
"Umm, well, I was looking for some things for my dance classes!"
"Your dance classes?"
"Yep! When I found that place I started using it as a place to store some clothes or supplies that they sometimes ask us for in class." This time the tone was a little shriller, it was a mix between the voice she was faking and the nervousness of being caught.
Dick only looked at her for a few moments before instantly lowering the attic door without breaking his gaze.
"First, it's bad to lie to your brother and second, you're a very bad liar, little one." Dick smiled before carefully climbing the stairs, frowning at the unsteady ladder.
[Name] just sighed in frustration. "Let's see, how the fuck did Dick fucking Grayson know I'd be here?" She didn't say anything, nothing came out of her mouth.
Dick on the other hand was greatly surprised by what was inside, two mattresses one on top of the other, a nightstand, two not so large trunks accompanied by drawers to store clothes.
There were some hand-painted colorful bottles hanging in the higher parts of the attic, surely her creations.
The only lights illuminating the place were the skylight, a row of light bulbs, and the lamp on the nightstand.
It was a room.
Why would his sister sleep here?
Why didn't he know this?
Why...she didn't tell him about this?
"[Name]" He called her but there was no answer.
He turned around and with a leap landed in the hallway of the mansion, leaving the attic.
Only to realize she was gone.
"Shit..." He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up a bit. "Was this always her room?.."
Of course not.
And that was what was causing him an uncomfortable stomach ache.
He glanced at the attic that was still open, his curiosity got the better of him again, he went back in.
But this time he looked more closely at the "room."
The lights were off leaving only the skylight as a light source, it felt quite comfortable actually.
The orange and yellow light of dawn began to stream even further through the skylight, starting to flood some parts of the room with its light.
But the moment the light reached a certain angle of the room, everything lit up with colors, distracting Dick a little.
The lights from the bottles illuminated the rest of the room, which was still dark.
Now the whole room was illuminated without even a single artificial light switch on. Dick stood admiring for several long minutes the little light show his sister had created.
That admiration turned into something else when he noticed that on top of one of the trunks was a medium-sized box.
He walked over slowly, grabbed the box and sat down on the makeshift bed.
A long skirt and a very long fabric was the first thing she saw, but what caught her attention was the only colored fabric that was in that box.
Two fans with gradients of warm colors, yellow, orange and red. Red was what remained the most on both fans.
"This is what Alfred gave you...I don't think it's suitable for a girl of your age-"
Wait.
"How old are you?."
[Name] arrived at the bathroom tired from running, well, now she has to get away from Dick, how ironic.
"Oh. My. GOD." She immediately leaned against the bathroom wall and slowly lowered herself until she ended up sitting.
She brought her hands to her hair, ruffling it quite a bit.
"Will this affect anything? I mean, technically do I travel back in time, or am I reincarnated? IT DOESN'T MATTER." She jumped back up and began pacing back and forth.
"Actions have consequences, allowing Dick into my room will surely change something..." [Name] stopped instantly.
"In fact... he, no, no one, found that place, at no time during my childhood until I left...What did I do?-"
Her breathing gradually began to become more agitated than before.
She felt her palms getting sweatier than before, she felt like she had been punched in the stomach and all the air she had been knocked out of her but she couldn't get it back no matter how hard she tried.
Gradually her legs as well as her hands began to shake, she didn't feel it because she was so lost in her head until she fell to the floor.
Her legs gave out as she trembled and she brought her hands to her chest. She felt dizzy.
Ten minutes passed, she still felt the trembling in her hands but her legs stopped shaking, she was still kneeling on the floor.
The dizziness disappeared but the result was a sharp headache.
"Shit...and I have to go to school." She muttered as she tried to stand up with the help of the sink. "Please, just for today, no more surprises."
"Whoever is behind this, leave me the surprises when I find a way to get back and leave here..."
If there is any way. Safe.
NOTES: Heyyyyy guess who's back? Well I genuinely hope you all like it.
You know, if you want to ask questions, ask them, and if you want to be on the taglist, let me know in the comments.
Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error
the ocean
That's where you belonged, you had arrived at the coast a few months ago everything was so new to you
It was the first time you left the sea on your own all you knew about this new world were relationships that the other selkies told you.
But you were brave and decided to go out.
This whole new world was too new for someone as inexperienced as you, you knew that selkies in their human form were too attractive for ordinary humans.
So it was not strange that no one could take their eyes off you, in the eyes of ordinary humans you were an angel fallen from heaven.
And then you met him
bruce wayne
He fell for you as soon as his eyes fell on you, you were the most beautiful and charming woman he had ever met
For you he was not Bruce Wayne, the multimillionaire playboy of Gotham
Just Bruce, the kind man who deep down cared for others, although he will not show it
Some time later he told you his big secret, he was Batman and he introduced you to Richard who was his adopted son and also Robin.
You were like a mother figure Richard at that time, it had been a short time since the death of the little boy's parents leaving a big mark on him
But since you arrived everything had changed, forming a family was not in Bruce's plans.
But he didn't regret having met you, you were the only thing he needed
And he wasn't going to let you leave his side
_
The waves were getting bigger and bigger, a big storm was about to start
It was time to go back to the ocean, to your home.
Even if you wanted to stay you couldn't, a part of you said you would stay with him but another part said you should leave.
That very day Bruce had proposed to you, he had only known you for a few months but he was sure you were the love of his life.
But all you did was give him a confused look and then you ran away.
He thought he had pushed you too hard, didn't you love him?
He chased you to the coast, a few weeks ago you had started to behave strangely
He asked you if something was happening to you and you just said it wasn't important, he knew you were lying.
"Bruce I...I haven't been completely honest with you"
"What do you mean?"
You asked Bruce confused, he didn't understand what you meant, was it something so serious that you weren't even able to tell him
"I...I'm not the person you think I am"
You said as you turned to look at him, at that moment you didn't know what to do, if you stayed with him you were betraying your home, your family and culture.
But if you were going to betray him, you loved him more than anything and you knew that he loved you too
At that moment you were too stupid and you didn't know what you wanted
"I love you Bruce, but you're not mine"
You said for the last time before a great wave consumed your body, Bruce tried to stop you but it was too late.
He watched as your presence disappeared among the waves of the sea
That day I felt like I had lost again what I loved the most
And again he couldn't do anything about it
For years he went to that beach looking for you, hoping that one day you would come back
But you never did, you disappeared from his life like dust.
But he swore that if one day you came back he wouldn't let you leave him again
Never again
_
After a year you went back out to the coast, the summer sun hitting your shiny skin
Your old skin fell off your shoulders
You had to get clothes as soon as possible, you weren't going to be naked on the beach, you had manners!
You just had to wait for your collaboration to peel off your body and you could finally walk again
You thought you were alone, you chose the most desolate place without people on the entire beach
You were so distracted that you didn't even notice the dark-skinned boy who looked at you in amazement
As soon as you looked up your eyes met his emerald eyes
At that moment you felt your body filled with nervousness
You greeted him awkwardly while giving him a nervous smile
"Are you a mermaid?"
The younger one asked, it was the first time Damian had seen a creature like you
"No, I'm a selkie" you quickly denied, it was the first time a human had seen you before you completely transformed "besides mermaids and salkies are different because-"
Before you could finish speaking you heard a distant voice calling the young man
"Damian! I was looking for you all over the beach, you can't-"
Bruce's eyes widened in surprise when he saw you, after so many years you had returned?
He had waited for you for more than 20 years and now he was back
"(Name)..."
Your name came out of Bruce's lips, you could barely react when you felt Bruce lunge at you to hug you
Damian frowned confused, because his father was hugging a strange woman
You felt like your body was about to break from the force of Bruce's hug
After so many years he had you in his arms again
And this time he wasn't going to let you leave his side
_
He had taken you to the mansion as soon as possible, he wasn't going to let you stay on that beach alone
Bruce had introduced you to all the members of the family, apparently he had adopted many more children than you imagined
You felt a little bad for having missed so many things
Your relationship with them was pretty good, well with almost everyone
Richard was still as sweet as when he was a child, when he saw you again he didn't know He took off from you
It seems that he was still a mommy's boy
With Jason it was a little difficult, you found out that he had died and then revived, leaving the poor guy with a lot of trauma and problems
You tried to understand him and show him that you were always going to support him, it was difficult but you managed to gain his trust
You knew that deep down he wanted that support that they could never give him when he was little
Sometimes you had your doubts about Tim, how is it possible that someone as young as him could survive with so few hours of sleep!?
The first time you found out you asked him to improve his sleep schedule, you couldn't let him stay up so late
It made you happy that he listened to you, well almost
He still had horrible sleep schedules but he tried to take some breaks
It was quite difficult to get along with Damian, maybe your first meeting with him was calm
But after he found out about your history with Bruce he completely hated you, so you were the one to blame for Bruce looking at the sea all the time in a melancholy way
You tried to have a good relationship with him but nothing worked, he ignored you or said that you could never be his mother
You understood that he was angry because his life had changed, it wasn't easy to get used to something
So you gave him his space and didn't pressure him, even so you were kind to him
Over time you started to get along better, you told him about your adventures in the sea and facts about marine animals that he had never heard
He would never admit but he liked spending time With you, something in him wanted you to never leave
Barbara was someone quite kind, you got along well since the first time you met her
You used to go out with her and the other girls to walk and talk
Cass was someone quite quiet but she still liked being with you, it was a little difficult to have a conversation with her but even so she was the sweetest girl you had ever met
Stehp was someone quite good, she spent most of her time with cass
You could tell they were good friends, and you used to bring cookies for them
In stehp's words your little streets were the best in the world
All this was so perfect, but you knew you shouldn't get attached
You knew it was wrong to abandon them but you couldn't stay
The day was approaching when you had to return to the coast
But what you didn't know is that none of them were going to allow you to leave
_
"You can't go (name)! After all this you're going to leave me again!?"
Bruce said trying to get you to see reason, you couldn't leave him again, didn't you love him enough?
"You don't understand Bruce..."
You tried to back away but he ended up grabbing your wrists and pulling you closer to him
"Understand that (name)!?"
His grip on your wrists tightened and made you let out a sound of pain, you were sure that would leave a mark there
"Let me go, it hurts!"
You tried to get out of his grip but it was impossible, in your human form you were too weak, maybe you should have listened to the other selkies and never returned to the surface
"I didn't want to do this, (name), but you leave me no other choice"
You could barely do anything when you felt something embedded in your neck
It was a sedative, your vision became blurry, and you could only feel Bruce's arms wrap around your almost unconscious body
You could see a cynical smile forming on his face
Who would have thought that at that moment your nightmare would begin
_
Every day was worse than the last, you spent all day locked up in the mansion
Bruce had told everyone your secret and from that moment on everyone had become more possessive
All the time you felt watched, plus the whole family had become more clingy with you, they were not going to allow their mother to abandon them
You should be happy that they are with you! They only want the best for you
Not only did you have to spend all fucking day with kids who wouldn't leave you alone
You also had to put up with a "husband" who wouldn't even let you go to the bathroom alone
Every day that passed you hated Bruce more, because he was the one who put those ideas in the heads of others
You were very stupid to trust a man like him
Bruce started to think that maybe he should get you pregnant, so you could never leave his side
But the first time he approached you with ulterior motives you hit him
And during that whole week you didn't say a word to him, maybe when he regains your trust he could get closer to you again
But you weren't going to allow it, you hated Bruce with all your being, sometimes you wanted to kill him but you knew that would only cause more problems
For now you will have to learn to live like this
Who knows, maybe at some point you'll get used to it!
Or maybe you'll live the rest of your life miserably locked up in a mansion.
You just hoped that this nightmare would end one day.
I finished this pretty quickly, I really liked the concept of this story
I was thinking of making it a bit romantic but I'm better at writing angst than romance
WARNING: None for now, just a little sad background at the beginning with a calm ending. Enjoy!
Prologue
Masterlist
The hallways are the same as I remember, white walls and full of marked photos, there weren't that many, but enough to make me think that I don't appear in any of them.
Although I am grateful that my room is not that far from the stairs, but at the same time, it hurts.
Looking at all those photos, looking at how everyone is smiling carefree (except Jason), everything is fine, except that one member of the mansion is missing.
And you know what the worst part is? Today is supposedly my birthday.
And I bet you anything that none of them remember.
The last photo they took was still next to the stairs, a photo big enough for all the Waynes to fit into it.
But since I'm not a Wayne, I didn't appear, I'm not, in any sense.
Because I would never "save" a child from the streets so that he would later receive the same treatment he once received there.
I would never allow the child to be insulted and denigrated for coming from the slums much less would I justify it by saying 'he's just a child'.
I would have taken that child directly to another family who could give him the attention that every child deserves. I wouldn't have taken him to a house where he would suffer.
Of course, they never touched him, they never hit me.
But words hurt worse than a sword.
Anyway, I doubt I'll be spending much more time than I should, I have to get back somehow.
But how?
[Name] stared at the photo for a few more moments before finally rushing down the stairs.
Her thoughts were a whirlwind out of control, so many questions hovered around her, stalking her, but there was only one that did not disappear.
Why? Why her? Of all the people who would long for this chance, why choose the one who would hate it the most?
"Lord, or whatever higher being is behind this, if you hear me... I hope you find your partner with another man, you damned wretch." She thought, completely ignoring her surroundings, until Alfred's voice called her.
"Miss" Alfred said, looking at her somewhat strangely. His expression didn't say it, but she noticed it. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm still a little sleepy." She replied smiling a little. Alfred just raised an eyebrow but didn't reply further. "Alfred, do you know why the mansion feels so... empty?"
Alfred headed to the kitchen to finish preparing her breakfast before answering, "Today is Monday, Miss. It's normal for the mansion to be like this, even more so in the morning."
[Name] didn't say anything, she looked at him curiously. "I mean, yeah, it's normal, for now it's just Tim, Damian and I living in the mansion." She thought as she sat down in one of the chairs.
"There are two more years until I officially leave the mansion, but, I don't think I can handle two years of pretending to be the same girl who wants approval...I have to-" [Name] snapped out of her thoughts, again, as she watched Alfred place a plate of food in front of her, pancakes with cream and strawberries.
"Happy fifteenth birthday, miss." Alfred said with a small smile adorning his normally serious and expressionless expression.
"Alfred"
"Yes, miss?"
"Is there another important date today? You know, some event, gala, party?" [Name] looked at him curiously and attentively for his answer, Alfred on the other hand didn't say anything.
"No, miss, there is nothing planned for today."
Oh.
Oh.
"Alfred... Were you always this bad at lying or was I just really naive?" She thought with a smile, smiling trying to fake a hopeful look.
"That's great! That means I can spend today with my family!" She said with a smile, she seemed genuinely happy. She seemed.
Alfred fell silent.
"Of course, miss, today will be a special day for you." Those words distracted her a little, but she didn't show it, she had to keep up the role.
"YAY! Well, nevermind, I need to go find a dress and look nice! I want to show Dick the dress I bought, it's blue! I'm sure he'll love it! Bye Alfred, thanks!" [Name] stood up from the chair so quickly that it made a high pitched, annoying noise, Alfred simply tried to ignore it.
He just watched her run up the stairs with a smile, a smile that the butler could sense was strange.
[Name] on the other hand, barely left Alfred's sight, her smile disappeared, now being replaced by an expression of curiosity.
"Well, what happened today? Besides my birthday..." She muttered as she slowed her walk back to the squares in the hallway.
Observing each one of them one by one.
"What are you looking at?"
[Name] almost screamed when she heard the other voice, she turned around to see boy younger than her somewhat sleepy.
Black hair, Green eyes. Damian Wayne.
"Honestly, have I always had bad luck or is it just because I'm in the mansion? Damn it." [Name] thought as she looked at the boy who was looking at her in an angry and discontented manner.
"Good morning to you too Damian."
"Answer my question."
"I was just looking at family photos, I already had breakfast." [Name] said as she turned her gaze back to the photograph, with that she also turned her gaze to one in particular.
"Oh, you mean MY family?" Some won't notice it, but she will, that little silent mockery.
She knew what that boy was trying to do, ever since he arrived a year ago he always tried to do the same thing, to have everything in his favor.
Trying to provoke her.
He had done it with Tim before, a few months after his arrival, and it seemed that now his new target was her.
But this time [Name] couldn't care less about that comment.
She was no longer a Wayne, [Name] already took that for granted the moment she left this mansion.
So why should she be affected by a comment from someone she doesn't care about?
Comment coming from someone who doesn't care about her well-being either. Again, does she have to care?
Obviously not.
"Yes Damian, YOUR family, come down now, your breakfast will get cold." [Name] could feel Damian's normally serious and emotionless expression falter at her response.
A faltered that no one would notice except Bruce, Alfred, or an adult.
A faltering she noticed, technically, she is an adult only she is trapped in the body of a fifteen year old girl.
Damian wanted to say more, but he just closed his mouth, giving her a look of contempt and annoyance.
[Name] felt that gaze leave her and then return all her attention to the photograph that caught her attention.
It wasn't a photograph as such, it was a kind of family tree.
Below each small photo was the name and birthday. In the case of the adopted children without parents, their birthday was the day they came to the mansion.
[Name] looked for his photo and realized that it was very outdated compared to the others.
This was her when she was around ten or eleven years old. Birthday: July 19th.
"Wait..." [Name] began to check the birthday dates of the family members.
Until she got to Tim's.
July 19th. Damn.
"No wonder there was so much silence, now it makes sense because no one remembered mine..." She thought as she touched Tim's photo to frown a little. "But that doesn't justify them in the slightest."
[Name] walked away from the family tree to return to her room. She had already lamented before, what would change if she continued to lament now?
Nothing.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, the silence from before had disappeared over time, just as the morning turned to afternoon and afternoon to night.
"This doesn't affect me, no, it doesn't affect me one bit." That kept repeating in my head like a broken record. But that statement stopped working when I heard them sing.
Their voices were not annoying, on the contrary, those voices were soft and happy.
Even Bruce's voice sounded soft, Haha, it feels strange.
It's been a while since I spoke to him, no, rather, it's been a while since I heard his voice.
He always listened to my voice, my shrill voice demanding his attention and support. That little voice that always wanders through my mind, But will never wander through his.
I'm not complaining, I'm convincing myself.
Convincing that shrill voice that this is not an opportunity, that it should not have hope that anything will change this time.
I don't want it to change, I like my future, where I work and my life before this.
I don't want to hold on to a past that I know, I want to hold on to my future which is not more uncertain.
I want my life, MY life. Not her life. Not anymore.
I just want—
*TOCK TOCK TOCK*
Three continuous knocks managed to get me out of my mind, I'm grateful for that, if I continued like this I wouldn't be able to sleep.
I get up from my bed to go to that attic door and open it. There he was, Alfred looking at me with a small smile.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up, Miss."
"Don't worry, I couldn't sleep, did something happen?"
"Nothing you need to worry about, just a request from me." I raised my eyebrow curiously, it's not unusual for him to do this kind of thing, but I couldn't help but have a little deja vu.
"Could you accompany me to the kitchen?"
I stood still for a few moments, until I nodded in approval, Alfred moved to the side of the small staircase so I could pass.
Once done, we both began to walk side by side. my gaze wandered through the photographs again, and there was silence again, which was not surprising.
It was nighttime, but there was still a small light on in the kitchen when we finished going down the stairs.
With that light she was accompanied by a small cake along with a box wrapped in gift paper.
"Happy birthday, miss." Alfred said again as he approached the table where the cake was, the decorations from the old party (if there were any decorations) had disappeared.
I stared at the scene in front of me.
"This isn't the way I would have liked to celebrate your birthday, miss, but it's not an excuse not to celebrate it, don't you think?" Alfred looked at me, his smile never faltering even as I stood there staring at the scene, seemingly paralyzed.
"Thank you Alfred..." This time, his smile faltered for a few short seconds, perhaps it wasn't his smile, maybe it was his look or something else.
I didn't know what my expression was right now, but it must have been something new for him, maybe I'm wrong, but his gaze seemed slightly surprised and comprehension.
As if to say, "Since when could she make that expression?"
But that look changed as soon as I started to approach the box.
Being careful not to make any noise, I tore the paper open to open the box. I opened it, my look now one of slight surprise.
The box was not that big, but it was big enough to fit three items of clothing.
A long, wide skirt with cascading ruffles that give it a flowing and elegant effect.
Sheer fabric cape-like sleeves fasten to the arms with delicate flower-adorned bracelets, creating an ethereal and elegant effect that flows as you move.
Finally, A long white cloth that was soft to the touch. As I pulled out my things I looked at Alfred in confusion.
"This is a big thing for me, Alfred."
Alfred nodded "I know, miss." He carefully grabbed the white cloth, then folded it and put it back in the box, but not before looking for something else inside. "Some time ago you told me that you liked those dancers' dance outfits."
"That's why I decided to ask a friend for a favor and make these clothes." Alfred took out two fans from the same box, he opened one of them revealing that it was not an ordinary fan.
It was a fan that when extended was considerably large, in turn releasing a colorful silk fabric degrading in warm colors, like fire.
"Obviously, I couldn't forget about this." He handed them to me, I took them carefully, with precision and with a little difficulty I extended them both at the same time.
I stepped away from the table and Alfred to spin around a bit, admiring how the fabric circled around me as it spun, then stopped peacefully and elegantly when I did too.
Now I remember this Deja vu, the gift, the outfit and the fans, that outfit was the first one I wore for my first performance at eighteen, when I had just left the mansion.
"It's obviously not for your size because I don't think it's the right outfit for you yet, but once you grow up and still have dancing in mind, it will be perfect for you Miss [Name]." Alfred said as he approached me with the box in his arms.
"Does Dad know about this?"
Alfred shook his head. "No, miss, he doesn't know."
"Alfred..." I said in a scolding tone, which is ironic considering he's, technically, the adult here.
"I know what you're thinking, and let me tell you that money comes and goes, but this isn't going away for a long time." He placed the box in my arms, until now I had only seen his gaze falter once, but now it happened again.
Before I had thought it was a look of pity.
But now, I only see flashes of guilt. Why?
That guilt in his eyes did not reach his smile, which remained intact.
I let out a small sigh that was later accompanied by a smile.
Without warning he dropped the box along with the fans to hug him, I let my head settle under Alfred's chin, I could feel him smile.
Not that polite smile, a smile he formed because he wanted to.
"Thank you Alfred."
Alfred returned my hug shortly after by stroking my head.
"You're welcome, miss."
As he hugged me, I felt a strange sensation, a gaze that pierced my body and soul. A gaze that I decided to ignore, for now, I just wanted to feel like a part of my past, it was good.
NOTES: I'M REALLY SORRY FOR THE LATENESS, god, I think this is the first time I've had so much trouble with a character's age/timeline. But hey, here you go, eat and ask questions my children.
Because I will be more than happy to answer them💋💋.
And also, any ideas or advice to start the masterlist?
OMG I LOVE UR WRITING ITS AMAZING! ok maybe I'll tone down the caps, but I love ur writing good god I never felt so in love, its so clean and dark I just- it gives me dark academia vibes I love it! I don't what to ask or if I'll get reply I just hope u understand how much I like ur writing and pls continue to do so!
AWWWW THANK YOU VERY MUCH MY LIFE MUAK MUAK MUAK💋💋
Obviously I will continue updating, not as fast of course, but I will always make sure that when I do it I have good quality writing and no spelling mistakes. But again, thank you darling 😽💖
My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.
I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.
I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.
God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.
Anything, but all that never leads to anything.
Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.
But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.
Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.
Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.
The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.
As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.
Oh wait, that's literally what happened.
And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.
And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.
In this case, the bird.
It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.
Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.
It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.
Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.
My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.
But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.
“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.
I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.
I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.
As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...
Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.
Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.
“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.
I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.
But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.
Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.
"[Name]"
"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.
Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.
"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.
I sigh as I turn around to look at him.
"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.
"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"
A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.
As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.
Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.
And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.
I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.
"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."
Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"
I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."
That wasn't a lie.
Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.
"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."
"Sometimes?"
"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.
"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.
Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.
Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.
Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.
What happened? Why am I bleeding?
Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.
It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.
I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.
Please...
I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...
Please...
She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.
But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.
"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.
The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...
[Name] sat up in bed right away.
"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.
She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.
But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.
"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.
If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.
"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.
She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.
[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.
On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.
"Miss [Name]"
[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.
"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.
"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.
She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.
"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."
She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.
Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.
"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.
She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.
And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.
"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."
With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.
It was her birthday and she had to look good.
And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.
NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".
I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).
But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.
Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋
The boy’s footsteps echoed between the empty buildings, their rhythmic pattern navigating the uneven bricks on the sidewalk’s edge with practised ease, each step a silent, steady dance against the rough textured concrete. A pang of disappointment tugging at his heart as he turned his head, meeting your gaze. His voice breaking the silence. "You're... seriously leaving?" The older boy muttered bitterly, a tinge of disbelief on his tongue.
Your throat constricted, your eyes unable to meet his pained, searching gaze. You halted in your tracks, your fingers instinctively reaching out to grasp the fabric of the back of his shirt weakly, hesitating for just a moment. Your chest tightened with mixed emotions as you felt the rough material in your palm.
"It's not... my decision to make. You know that, Jay." You rest your head against his back, a choked breath escaping your lungs. "She's... She's back."
The boy’s shoulders tensed under your touch, his breath hitching as your head rested against his back, the fabric of his shirt dampening slightly from the tears forming in your eyes. "...I know." He whispered hoarsely, his voice catching in his throat. "But it's not fair."
Frustration and helplessness rose in Jason’s chest, his hands clenching and unclenching in a futile attempt to release the tangled emotions swirling within. "It's not fair. Why does she get to decide everything? What about... what about what I want?"
“Jay..”
“No.” He snapped suddenly, the raw frustration in his voice catching you off guard. "You always take her side." The anger in his words stung you as he shrugged off your touch on his shoulder, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
The sharp edge in his voice cut through the air, making you recoil as if you'd been struck. You clutched your hand against your chest, your body going rigid as a wave of hurt washed over you. "She's my mother." Your jaw tightened, the words escaping through clenched teeth as pain stung your eyes.
The silence that settled over them was a heavy, uncomfortable one, filled with unsaid words and emotions too complicated to articulate. You met his gaze again, the hurt in your eyes betraying the turmoil within. "She's all I have left, Jay." You whispered, your voice softer now, laced with a hint of vulnerability.
The sound of your whispered words broke what little composure he had left, a pang of guilt shooting through him at the sight of the hurt in your eyes. He could feel his anger dissipating, replaced by a mix of regret and shame. "I know," he muttered, his voice softer now, lacking the edge it held earlier.
Jason’s tone shifted, losing the defensiveness of before as a hint of pleading entered his voice. "God- Of course I know." He muttered, his tone a mixture of frustration and resignation. "But... what about me?" His jaw clenched as he spoke, his eyes flickering up to your form before darting away again. He chewed at the inside of his cheek.
Your eyes squeezed shut for a moment as you grit your teeth, your hand dropping from his shirt back down to your side. You focused your gaze on the ominous-looking sky above, the clouds dark and threatening in the distance. "I can't lose her again," the words slipped out, quiet and pained. “I.. I can’t let her leave me again..”
You swallowed hard, forcing your gaze back to his figure. Taking a hesitant step forward, your hand reaching out as if to touch him, but stopping as your knuckles brushed against the fabric of his shirt. A mixture of pain and helplessness etched your face, your voice breaking as you spoke. "You understand that, right? Even if it hurts, you get why this has to happen.."
His eyes flickered to your hand, his heart clenching at the aborted gesture. He could feel the tension in your body, the pain in your voice. The pain of his own anger faded as he met your gaze, seeing the hurt mirrored in your eyes. He let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair. "... Yeah. I get it."
You woke up with a startled start, your ears laid back against your head as your gaze darted around the lavish space. A staggered breath leaving your lips. What happened?
The young Wayne’s eyes were piercing, watching your every move as you darted towards the door, making a break for it. You could feel his gaze burning into you, the mixture of anger and tension still present in his expression, not at all focused on the older man's words.
The billionaire speaks up again in an attempt to intervene, his voice smooth and calm, "Damian, that's not necessary." But his words fall on deaf ears, his son not acknowledging his attempt to diffuse the situation.
The boy's focus was fixated solely on you, as if Bruce's words had no effect. Watching you intensely. You could sense the tenseness in his body, coiled up like a spring ready to snap at any moment.
He takes a single stride forward, his hand held out in front of him. Your breath hitches involuntarily, anticipating some sort of attack. But instead, you watch as he drops the object in his hands onto the floor. It falls with a loud thud on the ground, a weapon of some sort. You eye it warily, suspicious of his intentions.
Your body tenses as he steps towards you, your heart beating fast in your chest. His actions are slow and controlled, but there's something dangerous about his movements. He continues on, keeping his hand extended, his palm facing upwards. He's still staring at you intently, assessing the situation. From the way you avoid stepping on one of your front paws, to the way you’re swaying. Still clearly affected by the sedatives they’d had to use on you.
He moves forward, closing the space between the two of you. Standing only a few feet away now, his height making him loom over you. Your claws dig into the ground beneath you, ready to run away at the first sign of danger, but he stays in your line of sight. His hand remains extended, palm open and empty.
You find yourself hesitating, nose twitching as you take in his scent. You stand your ground for a moment longer, your tails movements slowing down to a moderate sway as you lean forward to sniff at his outstretched arm. Watching as he slowly lowers himself onto one knee in front of you.
His expression is hard to decipher, waiting patiently for you to approach on your own terms. His body language is careful and non-threatening, despite the obvious anger and tension that still simmers just beneath the surface. You cautiously inhale, taking in the Robin’s scent. It's a mix of fresh linen and some sort of woodsy aroma, with hints of something warm and familiar, likely belonging to the billionaire standing behind him. You catch a whiff of something else there too, something sharp and dangerous, like steel. As your nose moves, you could see him watching you intently, his expression still intense but somewhat more patient now. He doesn't move, simply kneeling down in front of you calmly.
You take a small step, tilting your head upwards to present your fluffy little chin to him. Your tail swaying languidly behind you. His expression softens slightly as he sees your action, the small step forward and the way you present your neck. His eyes widened a miniscule amount, his expression shifting from intense to something more vulnerable, more open. He lifts up his arm a bit, as if to move forward to grab at you, his hand pausing just a few inches away from your scruff. For a moment, he appears conflicted, torn even. His eyes darting to his father unsurely for a moment before moving back to you.
You brush up against his arm, moving forward to his extended hand. Nudging against his arm, silently coaxing him to move his fingers along your spine. It's instinctual, an unconscious action used to convince him to pet you. Your thoughts beginning to blur as the lines between your human brain trying to run and block out the pain clashes with your cat side that just wants comfort and rest.
His calm demeanour wavers for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek to keep from letting a soft smile form on his lips. It's a strange reaction, one he can't quite explain, but something about your actions make him feel all warm inside. Seeing you brush up against him willingly, moving closer and nudging your head along his skin, silently coaxing him to just touch you.
And then, his thumb slips beneath your collar, causing a brief pinch before you go limp, sinking into his awaiting arms. Your vision starts to blur, the world around you fading into a hazy blur of colours. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you closely to his chest as you start to feel the sedation taking hold of you again, the world around you fading into nothingness.
You let out a deep, guttural hiss, your muscles feeling tense and worn out from all the shifting and stretching. Your joints ache with every little pop and squeal that escapes. Your ears flex back against your head, and your tail sways in lazy circles behind you. This shit is getting repetitive.
Your mind briefly drifts back to the dream you had, before quickly pushing those memories away. The last thing you needed to be doing was get all sappy and nostalgic over your past when you’re stuck in some deranged psycho families manor.
You transform back, feeling your limbs stretch out as you shift from cat to human. A deep, disgusted sneer passes your lips as you take note of the tacky clothes you're now wearing, an obviously well worn, tacky sweater that's a bit too big hanging off your shoulders and a pair of tight-fitted shorts. It's a clear display of vulnerability to be seen so exposed and in a state where they'd strip away your autonomy. It leaves a sour taste in your mouth just thinking about it. You're pissed, the anger bubbling up inside of you like a hot flame. Your teeth gritting in frustration.
You slowly climb off of the bed, feeling like a newborn foal trying to walk for the first time. Your legs heavy and unbalanced as you take tentative steps towards the door. The large wooden framing stands wide open, completely unguarded. They hadn't bothered locking it.
You poke your head out cautiously, your eyes darting around the hall for any signs of life. Seeing nothing but empty halls and closed doors, you slowly creep out of the room, moving towards the exit at the end of the hallway. Your gaze flickering between every door you pass, on high alert for any movement.
The large foyer of Wayne manor stretches out in front of you, the dim lights casting long shadows across the floor. At the far end, the grand staircase leading up to the second floor loomed in the distance. It's eerily silent here, the only sound being the gentle tapping of your feet against the floor. You take a few steps towards the staircase, feeling the weight of the silence that fills the grand foyer. There's a sense of dread surrounding the entire area.
The heavy wood of the staircase groans under your feet as you begin to ascend. It creaks and wobbles slightly, but doesn't break or give way. It's been there for years, the weight of centuries of people passing through. The top of the staircase leads into the second floor hallway, a long stretch of wood and plaster that you can't see all the way down. Your ears strain, listening closely for any sound.
Your heart beats loudly against your chest. The thump of it pounding in your ears, like it was trying to escape the confinements of your unrelenting ribcage. Loud enough that you were sure the entire mansion must've been able to hear it.
Yet everything else was dead quiet. The hallway, the floors, the air. The silence was almost deafening. Your ears strained to hear even the smallest movement, your eyes darting across every corner and every shadow.
You straighten up, a relieved smile stretching across your face when you notice a familiar figure. Red Robin. He's here, investigating the Waynes. He must be. Without thinking, you sprint over to his hunched over form, your bare feet tapping against the wooden floor as you cover the distance between you two in moments.
Finally. Someone here in the manor who might, hopefully, not be involved in all this insanity. You speak up, your voice a strained whisper as you approach him, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. "Red Robin." The name rings out in the stillness as you finally reach him.
He turns towards you, his brow raising under the mask as a dark grin spreads out across his face. His hand shot out, steadying you by the hips, his grip firm but not painful. He was being careful.
“You have–” Your voice croaks, rough from disuse. You reach out, your fingers grabbing at the edge of his cape, your hands trembling. “You have to help me.” You plead, your eyes darting around, watching for any sign of someone lurking in the halls.
“Help you…?” He echoed, his voice low and controlled. Head tilting to the side as he fully turned to face you. There was something about his expression that you couldn’t place - a hint of something amused, perhaps.
“Help you with what, exactly?”
You swallow, your tongue suddenly feeling like sandpaper in your mouth. You grip his cape tighter, using it as support as you try to speak. Your eyes are locked firmly on his cowl-covered face, searching for any hint of emotion.
“The Waynes…” you whisper, your voice hoarse and broken. “I need your help. Please. They– they kidnapped me!”
The vigilante is silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he speaks, his voice still controlled but different somehow. There’s a faint edge to it now, his eyes fixated on you like nothing else in the world mattered.
“The Waynes?” He pauses, his voice deceptively casual. There’s a strange note in his tone, almost like he was humoring a distressed child. “Why do you think they kidnapped you?”
You grit your teeth, frustration sparking in your chest. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, his words like a slap in the face. Did he not believe you?
“What do you think?!” You whisper back harshly, your grip on the thick material of his cape so tight your knuckles begin to turn white. The tone of his voice was riling you up, like he was making a joke of your situation. As if this was all some sick game.
His head tilts to the side again, like he’s observing you closely. Studying you, almost. There’s an edge to his expression, a spark of something unreadable in his eyes.
You shift under his gaze, your heart beating loudly in your chest. His sudden intense studying of you was making you uncomfortable, his eyes scanning up and down your body from head to toe. Like you were being dissected, broken down like a specimen under a lens.
“Where did they keep you?” The vigilante continues, his eyes lingering on your bare feet. Clicking his tongue disapprovingly. There was something about the way he spoke that felt… off. Like he already knew some of the answers to his own questions.
Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, your mind racing for a response. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of everything around you, flinching as your eyes follow his gaze down to your own bare feet. The cold hardwood floor against the tender skin of your soles suddenly feels icy and unpleasant. You can’t help the slight involuntary shiver that wracks your body as he clicks his tongue in disapproval.
“In… in some room,” you finally respond, your voice a whisper. Your eyes glued to his face, trying to decipher the strange look in his eyes. You could feel the hair on the back of your neck standing up. “A nice room, sure, but a prison all the same.”
“They-“ you start, your voice shaking. Your hands trembling as you release the grip you had on his cape. You have to force the words from your mouth like poison, your voice wavering as you try and keep it together. “They drugged me.. they put.. they put these things,” you pause, blinking rapidly to clear the tears gathering in your eyes. You were starting to feel phantom pains where they’d incisioned the trackers under your skin. “In my body. Fuck— they undressed me, they—“ your voice falters, your throat suddenly tight with emotion. “They have me in a bloody collar!”
The vigilante’s face remains impassive as you tell him your story, the strange look in his eyes never wavering. He nods along, his expression showing little to no emotion besides the occasional tightening of his jaw. Despite his calm demeanor, there’s something dark in his expression, a storm brewing beneath the surface.
He listens intently, his gaze never leaving your face. His eyes are fixated on you, intense. Like he’s searching for something in your expression, something missing.
He bites the tip of his glove, tugging the material loose before pulling it off completely. He gently moves his hand to your cheek, his fingers brushing delicately against your skin. His eyes are intense, deep like a frozen lake. You can see the mixture of emotions swirling in their depths - anger, something resembling possessiveness, and a strange sort of affection, almost.
His voice is low when he speaks, quiet and steady. “All of that is for you, darling.”
“To keep you safe, protected,” he continued, running his thumb across the flesh of your cheek. The motion is gentle, almost soothing. “To make sure you finally feel loved.”
His soft, almost soothing actions suddenly feel like they’re suffocating you, his words sending a cold shiver down your spine. You stumble back, trying to get away from his touch. Your eyes widen as the realization of what he’s saying sinks in.
You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is to you, how close he’s been standing the entire time. You can feel the cold sweat building on the nape of your neck, your heart hammering against your chest. It’s hard to breathe, for some reason, and your vision momentarily swims as you continue to stumble backwards. He was supposed to be a vigilante. A hero to the people of Gotham.
You stumble back, your feet moving before your brain does. Without thinking, you turn around, spinning on your heel and breaking into a run. Your bare soles slap loudly against the hardwood floors, the sound reverberating throughout the entire mansion. Your heart is in your throat as you try to put as much distance between you and the vigilante as you can.
You managed to take a good few steps before you suddenly buckled, falling to your knees with a hard thud. A strangled gasp leaving your lips as your hands shot up to claw at the collar around your throat, your heart racing even faster. It felt like you were running out of oxygen, the collar suddenly constricting your airways. You feel like you’re choking, like you can’t breathe, the sudden pain making tears spring to the corners of your eyes.
Despite your efforts to attempt to breathe calmly and slowly, you just couldn’t manage it. Every gasp, every breath, was painful, like your airway had been forcibly closed up by a cruel fist. Your vision began to swim from the lack of air, fuzzy and unfocused. Your fingers clawing desperately at the hooks of the soft collars edges, gasping desperately as it doesn’t budge.
You were on the verge of hyperventilating, the sound of your own panicked gasps filling your ears. It’s all consuming - your panic, your utter fear.
He approached you slowly, each measured step he took echoing throughout the empty hall. He kneels down next to you, his movements deliberate and smooth. Tim coos softly, gently shushing your trembling form as you curled up into a tight ball on the cold floor, shaking.
He threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sickenly tender as he caressed you. “Shhh… It’s okay..” he murmured, his voice deceptively low and soft. “You’re alright. It’s okay, kitten.”
You’re suddenly able to breathe, air rushing into your lungs like a tidal wave. Even though the collar still firmly encircles around your neck, the pressure around your airways loosened up. Your body greedily sucking in mouthfuls of air, your mind swimming and dizzy with both lack of oxygen and a hazy relief.
You can feel Tim staring down at you, his gaze intense. A smile on his lips as he watches you gasp for air. His thumb hovering over the release button on the remote in his palm.
“There you go..” he whispers, his voice a low hum of satisfaction as he watches you take in shuddering gasps of air. He continues to pet your hair, his fingers carding through your locks softly. “That’s it. Nice and easy, sweetheart.”
“Do you understand now?” His tone is sickly sweet. It felt like your skin was crawling every time he touched you, your body cringing and flinching away almost involuntarily.
His hand continues stroking, the motion gentle but somehow threatening. Like every soft caress was an attempt to coax you into submission, his touch a strange sort of warning.
“Hm?” he prompts, his head tilting to the side. He looks expectant, like he’s waiting for a certain answer.
Your eyes glare up at him, your lips fluttering desperately as you try to speak. Every word you try to say is cut short by another deep gasp of air, your throat raw and sore from the crushing pressure applied earlier.
You want to scream at him, to yell and thrash in his grip. But your body feels weak and shaky, the adrenaline coursing through your veins still thrumming with panic and fear.
This wasn’t the same boy you’d rubbed your body up against on that apartment’s balcony. The same young man who’d smiled at you as you weaved around his feet, begging for his attention.
That Robin was kind, warm. Gentle. This man… wasn’t. Not even remotely. There was something dark in his eyes. Something feral and predatory.
His grip on the remote in his hand is so tight that his knuckles are turning white. It was like he was claiming some sort of disgusting ownership over you, like he believed you belonged to him in every sense of the word.
Something cold and terrible curls in your stomach as you watch his expression, a quiet horror slowly setting in as it sinks in just how dangerous the situation you’ve gotten yourself into is.
You should’ve trusted your instincts, should’ve listened when something felt off. You should’ve run. But you didn’t, thinking it was all the strange circumstance, that you were just overreacting.
Now, you’re pinned like a specimen under the grip of an unstable hero. At his mercy. At all of their mercy.
You feel your thoughts swirling in your mind, like a maelstrom of confusion and fear. Was it not just the Waynes…? Had every hero been in on it? Were you never going to be safe?
Your heart races as the realisation dawns on you that Batman himself might be part of this. The most powerful man in all of Gotham, the one who was supposed to be the symbol of good.
You were feeling lightheaded, your thoughts swirling in a hazy panic. How could this be happening? How was this real? You were nobody. You lived day to day struggling, how could somebody like you ever catch the attention of so many people? And why?
Tim continues to stare down at you, his smile turning almost unnervingly sweet. It was like he knew exactly what you were thinking, like he could see the questions swirling around in your head.
He chuckles softly, his voice disturbingly casual as he speaks. “You’re wondering why, right?” his words carry a hint of amusement. But his tone is almost pitying, like he was comforting a child about to be told a bad truth.
He pauses, a small hum leaving his lips. He looks like he’s thinking, like he’s contemplating something. Then he reaches out to gently brush a sweaty lock of hair from your face, his touch strangely tender.
“It’s because we’re family.” he states firmly, his tone so casual it chilled you to the bone. There was no hint of doubt in his voice, like he fully believed it. Like he knew that it was the hard truth.
He leans down closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek again. He watches your expression closely, a strange sort of affection behind his eyes. Something bordering on possessive.
You couldn’t help but shiver at the sheer intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes felt like they were boring into your soul. “You’re ours." His words are low and firm. Definitive.
“You’d do well to remember that. You’re family, whether you like it or not.”
“We take care of family,” he continues, his thumb rubbing against your skin in a gesture that’s almost soothing. Or it would be if you didn’t know the meaning behind his words. “We take care of each other. Family protects each other. Family makes sure nobody can hurt each other.” His voice takes on a colder, darker tone. Which contrasts the gentle way in which his thumb strokes your cheek. “This manor is the safest place for a little kitten like you in Gotham. Where we can protect you.”
His fingers travel from your cheek down to your chin, his grip gentle but firm as he tilts your head up. Making you look into his eyes.
They’re so blue. Not in a gentle, calming way, but in a piercing way. Like staring into the depths of an ice-cold river. The look he gives you is intense, his gaze unblinking.
“You’re safe here,” he murmurs, his voice low. “Where you belong.”
Safe? He says the word with such conviction. As if he truly, wholeheartedly believed it. Like he wasn’t the one holding the switch in control of the collar locked around your throat.
The word makes a bitter, dark laugh bubble up from your chest, the sound harsh and rough. “Safe?” You manage to rasp out through your ragged throat. “You fucking kidnapped me. Yo–you’re treating me as if I’m not a prisoner here.”
Tim’s eyes flash at your harsh words. There’s a hint of anger there for a brief moment, a shadow flickering through his gaze as his jaw clenches tightly. He looks like he’s having a hard time keeping himself in check.
“You aren’t a prisoner.” he grinds out, his voice still controlled, if a bit tighter than before. “You can do anything you want, go anywhere you want. Do anything to please us.”
He pauses for a moment, seeming to rein in his anger before continuing. “You’re being provided for, given anything you ask for. You’re protected, in a beautiful home, and kept away from the harshness of the streets. I’d say that sounds like a pretty good deal…”
His grip on your chin tightens, the smile on his face turning almost sickly sweet. “But since you want to be so ungrateful about it,” he drawls, his voice dripping in saccharine sweetness. “Maybe you’d like to go back to the streets, hm? To your cold apartment, your lonely existence, the struggle to find your next meal?”
His words are cold and calculated, like he’s reminding you of the harsher realities of your life. “Because you have nothing, you know. No one. No safety. You’re completely vulnerable like that.”
He bends down to your level, his face uncomfortably close. “You’re a stray, little one. A feral, scared, little stray, with no one to look after you. And the streets of Gotham aren’t kind to strays.”
Your eyes glare up at him, your teeth gritted as you rasp out your response. "Fuck. You.”
Tim’s expression darkens at your words, his grip tightening ever so slightly as his glare deepens. He doesn’t speak for a moment, just staring at you with an intense glare. It feels like he’s trying to decide if he should punish you for your harsh words or not.
You feel the familiar prickling sensation of transformation overcome your body, your bones shifting and compressing as you shift forms.
In an instant, you’re on all fours, your now-furred body feeling surprisingly agile and light, your claws scratching against the hardwood floor. You shift backwards, your tail lashing as you release a low growl up at Tim.
His expression seems to soften for a moment as he watches you transform, it was a familiar sight that he’s grown used to watching over the cameras. But the look is gone in a flash, his frown returning as he looks down at you with disapproval. His hand shooting out to grab you before you get the chance to dart off.
Your front paws circle around his wrist, grasping for purchase as you begin clawing and scratching at his arm. Your hind legs kicking and scraping against his skin, your body writhing violently in his grip. Sharp teeth digging viciously into his thumb.
Tim lets out a loud shrill of pain as your teeth dig into his skin, your sharp canines puncturing his flesh. He hisses out a curse, his hold on your scruff tightening unconsciously in response.
You feel him almost frantically throw you away, the shove hard enough to make you stumble backwards. You land on your paws as you look back up at Tim, your head tilted as you watch him cradle his arm.
His limb is bleeding heavily from the deep cuts you’ve inflicted on his skin, multiple long puncture wounds and slashes littering his wrist and forearm. A string of curses leaves his lips, his hand coming up to grasp at his torn skin in an effort to slow the bleeding. The blood gushing out all around and onto the floor.
The scream that came from Tim’s lips echoed loudly down the long hallways of the manor, the sound carrying through the air sharply. Within moments, the sound of hurried footsteps and hushed voices filled the air as the inhabitants of the manor seemed to gravitate towards the source.
You were preparing to make a run for it, your body tensing and preparing to bolt, when a sudden sharp sting went through the back of your neck, the sharp prick from the collar’s latches lodged in your skin.
Your legs buckled under you, your mind hazy and your vision starting to swim with an all-consuming blackness just as a pair of heavy duty black boots entered your field of vision. Your head felt so heavy.
You vaguely managed to glance up, your eyes registering the sight of Bruce Wayne towering over you before you finally lost consciousness.
For plot purposes, Alfred is Vet trained. TW for the following. If you are uncomfortable with animal cruelty or non consensual body modification, then either skip to the next banner or click off.
Once you slowly come back to, your head feels foggy and your thoughts sluggish. You blink your eyes open, your vision slowly refocusing as you try to take in your surroundings.
The first thing that you notice is that you can barely move. Your entire body felt immobilized, your limbs strapped down to a large, padded table. You attempt to yell, to cry out... but you couldn’t move your mouth. It’s as if your jaw is glued shut by some invisible force.
The more you struggle in your bonds, the quicker it becomes painfully apparent that you couldn’t seem to move anything. Your arms, legs, head, tail, ears. Nothing.
The only thing you could move was your eyes, your pupils darting around the room as you desperately tried to take in your surroundings through a haze of panic and confusion.
You watched as a tall, older man enters the room directly in front of you, his unmistakable white mustache and suit immediately recognisable. He was the Wayne family’s butler.
He was dressed in a pair of sterile scrubs on top of his usual outfit, an air of professional seriousness surrounding him as he stared down at you.
“I apologise for the predicament you find yourself in, young master,” the butler's deep voice rings out around the room, his tone gentle and comforting. "But now that you are awake, we can begin the procedure."
He pauses for a moment, eyes locking with yours. “Just try and stay calm, the faster we get this done the better.” The words are said sincerely, as if he's trying to reassure you.
However his words did nothing to calm your mounting panic, if you could, your body would be trembling against the bonds that held you fast to the table.
You wanted to scream, to protest to whatever it was that he was talking about. But you couldn’t even speak, your jaw stubbornly refusing to move despite how desperately you tried to open your mouth. Not even one pitiful mew left your lips.
“I understand that this situation may not be the most comfortable for you,” the butler continues, his tone lowering in an attempt to sooth you as he speaks. “So I’ll explain the procedure as we go along."
He takes a moment to glance at the various machines stationed around the room as he speaks, before turning his attention back to you. “Just try and remain calm. It will all be over shortly."
The butler’s words wash over you like a cold wave of horror, his voice strangely calm as he explains the medical procedure that’s about to take place.
“I’m going to perform what is called laser onychectomy,” he informs, his footsteps echoing slowly as he disappears from your line of sight.
Your heart plummets at the loss of visual once he moves behind you, fear making your heart drop in your chest.
“This involves using a laser,” the butler continues bluntly as he moves around. “Instead of a scalpel or clipper,” the sound of something metallic being picked up sounding from behind you. “Which is more commonly, or rather outdatedly, used when performing this surgery.”
“This technique targets the bone and tissue,” the butler explains clinically as he works. “Which provides a more precise and controlled removal. Unlike traditional methods," he says with a tone of distaste. “That can be more invasive and painful.”
The sound of a switch being flicked on rings in your ears.
“It aims to minimise discomfort and improve recovery.”
The butler reenters your field of sight, now standing by the table you’re strapped down against. You can see a pair of white latex gloves now covering his hands, along with a sterile face shield now covering his face as he continues to speak.
“I assure you that you won’t feel a thing. It’s completely painless. With the sedation you’re under, the only thing you should feel is a slight heat against your paws."
He hums softly as he adjusts the face shield, “The laser will cauterise your blood vessels and nerve endings,” he continues, a hand diligently peeling back the fur surrounding your claws. “Minimising any bleeding and significantly reducing the post-operative pain.”
His hands move out towards the nearby machine placed beside the operating table, adjusting it to come closer before turning it on. You could hear the faint hum of the machine’s mechanics as it starts up.
“Because the laser sterilises as it cuts, there is no risk of infection."
The elder man uses an instrument similar to tweezers to take ahold of the base of your first front claw, and with his other hand he brings close a U-shaped metal device, which you can safely assume is the laser by how warm it is against your fur as he brings it close. You try desperately to move away, to struggle, but the sedatives leave your body unresponsive.
“It will take less than a second,” he reassures, the soft hum of the laser steadily getting louder as he brings it ever closer to your paw. “I promise,” he murmurs softly.
He works in a methodical and efficient manner, his hand steady as he places the end of the laser against the base of your claw. The device hums louder, a low buzz sounding as it warms up. Seconds later, he wordlessly turns over your paw to make another incision on the underneath of your nail. Using the forcep to pull out your claw. As a string of muscle and tendons follows, he uses the laser to burn it off completely.
Throughout the entire process, the butler remains cool, efficient and collected, his movements precise and his voice professional. Choosing to ignore the way you’ve closed your eyes tightly, as the only thing you could actually control, the rest of your body remaining completely helpless and unresponsive to your mental struggles. You laid there limp, unable to reign in the tears that well up in your eyes.
You only break out of your dissociative state once he's cleaned out any blood that had dripped from your paws onto the table, your eyes weakly fluttering open as he turns the machine off and sets it down next to you. His hands moving to release the straps around your limbs, your body remaining immobile even as he frees you from the bonds.
“As the laser seals up the incisions, there is no need to apply any bandages.” he assures, his voice controlled and monotone as he tugs off the surgical gloves.
“You must rest,” is all the butler says as he turns away to clean up, tidying the used instruments and tools before disposing of any blood-soaked tissues into the bin and gathering the used sheets into a basket.
You manage to open your eyes wide enough to watch him work, your whole body feeling heavy and weak from the effects of the sedatives still working through your system. Your limbs remaining unresponsive to your attempts at movement, your body feeling like lead.
The butler finally comes back into your line of sight once he's finished, his hands now empty and his face clear of the protective shield. He crouches down in front of you as he gives you a gentle, almost fatherly look.
“You will probably still experience some nausea and weakness for a short while," he comments. “The effects of the sedatives will need to take a few hours to wear off. But other than that, young master, the procedure was a complete success."
He watches you quietly for moment, his hand reaching out to gently pat you on the head between your soft ears.
“Rest now, little one…” he whispers with a gentle smile, a hint of pity in his eyes as he watches the way your small form trembled. “Just rest. It’s all over."
With that, you could feel the butler release a soft sigh as he straightens back up, before turning and quietly leaving the operating room, abandoning you on the cold, metal table. Your ears twitching softly, listening intently as his footsteps echoed out, the sound of the heavy door closing behind him being the only sign that he’d left.
Alfred met Bruce’s eyes through the two-way mirror, his expression solemn and professional despite the pang of sympathy in his chest. He nodded his head wordlessly in a silent report of a job well done.
With that, he leaves the room, the door closing heavily behind him as he exits back into the hallway. His bottom lip trembling as he digs his nails into his palm. Schooling the resentful look in his eyes.
Your eyes slowly flutter open, groggy and disoriented as you regain consciousness. You vaguely notice the comforting feeling of a warm palm gently running through your fur, the comforting sensation bringing a small, gentle purr from your chest despite yourself.
You lean into his touch subconsciously, finding it strangely comforting in the moment. A small part of you screaming at you to remember the situation - to remember that you’re trying to get away from these people, not into their arms. But another part of you craves that comfort, the tender touches and unwavering attention. Especially now, with your instincts going haywire.
“You’re going to be alright…” a low, gentle voice mumbles quietly, the tone strangely pained.
As you grew more aware of your surroundings, you recognise that you’re lying on some type of bed, a firm yet comfortable mattress beneath your small form. You took note of how Damian’s voice had lowered, as he continued to run his warm palm soothingly through your fur. How his head had dipped down, resting against your fluffy stomach as his hand continued to stroke your ears tenderly with each gentle caress.
Your eyes slowly opened wider, your pupils adjusting to the brightness as you realise that you’re not in the medical room anymore. You’re somewhere that you can’t recognise. You let out a low, confused mew, unsure of how much time had passed since the procedure. Your body feeling strangely weak and lethargic, a small ache still evident in your wrists and the pads of your little toe beans.
Your gaze trails down your limbs, your ears folding backwards as you stretch out your front paws. You whine pitifully, suddenly and painfully reminded by the absence of your claws by the aches in your paws, the dull, phantom throb at the base of where your nails were causing a pitiful whine to leave your throat.
Damian makes a soft shushing noise, his nose nuzzling against your stomach once you whine. You watch as he moves his hand down to gently cover your front paws, hiding them from your view.
“It’s okay.. It’s okay..” he whispers softly, his voice dropping into a gentle pained plea. “I’m.. I’m so sorry…” His voice is ridden with guilt as he apologises.
He continues to rub your stomach softly with his other hand, his head still buried against you, his shoulders hunched forwards. You can feel him trembling as he apologises again, his breath tickling against your stomach as he mumbles words of regret against your soft fur.
His quiet apology was a stark contrast to his usual sternness. The vulnerability behind his words present in his voice. You could feel the tremors running through his shoulders, your heightened senses picking up on the way his muscles tense and tremble as he continues to quietly mutter his apology against you.
He shifts you closer, his hands gently pulling you up to sit in his lap, until you’re lying against his chest, tucked against his front. One hand wrapped around your back to rub gently between your shoulder blades, his other still rubbing your stomach gently with the occasional apology mumbled against your ears.
You feel your body relax against his front as he readjusts you in his lap, your senses being engulfed by his familiar scent. You felt comforted by the sound of his racing heart beating against your sensitive ears, the steady thump of the organ lulling you into a state of comfort despite yourself.
Damian adjusts his waist to accommodate you more comfortably, bringing your form flush against his body, both of his arms now wrapped around you as he continues to rub you gently, one hand trailing along your back, the other perched on the start of your tail.
“I should have stopped them…” Damian mutters out in a pained mumble, his arms wrapping tighter around your body as he continues to hold you against him.
You can feel how tense he becomes. His chest rising and falling heavily as he struggles to reign in his breathing. His heart beating against you as he quietly whispers more and more apologies, his voice cracking slightly with each one.
But even in his attempt to comfort you, you felt nothing. No sympathy, no anything. It was as if you were watching a play, viewing everything from behind a blurry lens.
He was no different. He was still a kidnapper. Still dangerous, despite his apologies. You could hear yourself breathing, but it felt distant, almost like a low buzz in the back of your ears.
Everything was wrong. Your head was spinning from whatever was still pumping through your system. Your instincts felt like they were in a frenzy. It was like your brain couldn’t even recognise you as being alive anymore. Like you were watching yourself through the screen of a TV.
You could register Damian’s arms wrapped around you. The way his heart frantically beats out of his chest. The heat coming off of his body in waves, seeping into your own small form.
You watched the ceiling lights above through your half-lidded eyes, their brightness burning into your dilated pupils. Your ears twitch every few seconds as small, pitiful whines leave your throat. Your body was tense yet still trembling harshly, shuddering as your whole world seemed like it was tipping upside down, your heartbeat too loud in your ears and your mind too distant to feel the way the boy was squeezing you. You wanted to scream.
The young Wayne’s voice sounded distant, as if he was calling out to you through a tunnel. You don’t understand what he’s saying, but you can feel the way his fingers keep running through your fur, his other hand running up and down your back in a way that would be calming, if you were able to comprehend it properly.
You wanted to feel safe. But you just felt scared. Your instincts screaming for you to run, to fight, to get away. While you just laid there, motionless.
What did I do? The thought was a painful one, the question playing on repeat in your head as you lie limp. Your paws stretching out, phantom claws dragging across his shirt. You whine pathetically, your eyes squeezing shut from the emotions welling behind your eyes.
It was a simple question. What did you do to deserve this?
You didn’t ask for any of this.
You just wanted to get back to your home, your life.
You had finally adjusted to being alone. To being free. And they’d taken that from you.
They had no right to kidnap you, to experiment on you, to change you. But they did. And they didn’t even care. They didn’t think of you as a person, a living thing with a mind and a soul. To them, your soul purpose was to be theirs. Someone to keep; something to own.
Bullshit. You think to yourself bitterly. They’re NOT your family. This is just some sick and twisted mind game. A weird obsessive tactic to feel in control.
Family does not experiment on each other. Family does not hurt each other. You’d already learnt that the hard way. This, this is bullshit.
You lie against Damian’s chest, feeling his heartbeat through your own. You were aware that he was still apologising. Could hear the way his voice shook as he tried to console you, his hands caressing through your fur. But it was like the sound was being filtered through a heavy wall of cotton. You could hear him, but you couldn’t process his words. You could feel the effects of the procedure still working through your system. Your mind too scrambled to fully realise what had been done to you, too overwhelmed by the wrong, unnatural feelings going through your body. Damian’s arms did nothing but help you stay put and stationary.
Family. The thought made bile rise in your throat.
Never. Your paws dug into Damian’s chest. A small amount of pain seeping through the cotton filter surrounding your mind.
You would never consider them your family.
This chap goes out to @acid-ixx
Merry Christmas🍀
All reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated and encouraged!!
I fr got no clue if anyone likes this, so I really really appreciate all my anons and commenters who go out of their way to say literally anything. Hope you all enjoyed🦖🦖🦖
I apologise for the extremely long delay. I kept rewriting and editing this cause I fucking hated it. Like I’m genuinely disappointed in this you have no idea. I had to watch SO MANY declawing demonstrations and procedures and went trough like four articles to make this as accurate as possible🙏🙏 So if you don’t like it I might cry🥰
Ok, you convinced me, I'll start writing a story about the Batfamily x neglected reader.
And first of all, I don't speak English, I can read it but not write it (I'm using a translator now).
But anyway, here's the idea:
“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”
It's cold, too cold, so cold that she can barely feel her feet that never stopped dancing, Alfred helped her create her dress, a dress that she is now wearing while she dances tirelessly.
The theater was silent, only the music in her head existed, music to which she danced to her invented rhythm, she loved dancing, she loved dancing as much as life.
But now, she felt like the cold hands of death were slowly guiding her at their own pace that she didn't hear, she could have been scared.
But she wasn't scared.
She only let herself be guided by death, which she equaled and even surpassed with her elegant movements.
A light went out, the music continued.
A light went out, that's two, the music didn't stop.
A light went out, that's three, the music got louder.
The last light went out, as did the music.
What a perfect way to close her last show and her own life, which no longer mattered as much as before, she thought that was all...
So why did the lights come back on? Why The first scene was her bedroom in the grand Wayne Manor?
"Good morning, Miss [Name]" A voice said on the other side of the door of her room. "Breakfast is already prepared, please don't be late."
A voice as calm as it was nostalgic called her name.
She didn't say anything for a few moments, pretending to yawn and in a tired voice she replied:
"Good morning to you too Alfred..."
In short: The (not) typical reincarnation of the forgotten/neglected daughter of Wayne Manor.
One thing I would like to clarify first is this:
The chapters will be divided into acts, specifically, Act 1, 2 and 3.
Each act will have a certain number of chapters (probably no more than 4-5 per act).
Why this? Because I'm inspired by the fact that everything is like a play, where literally [Name] is the protagonist of her own play.
This is not really that important, but I wanted to say it anyway because I have so many ideas right now that I'm quite excited and happy.
But anyway, I hope all like it and if you have any questions feel free to ask, and I'm sorry if my blog seems messy in some way, in the future it will be better I promise.
