Another Facts About Me Is That I Actually Wanted To Join The Military But My Parents Didn't Like That

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

-👻anon

Bro same man ( I scarf down cheetosnbefore writing this)

What kind of theme were you gonna go for?

I genuinely don't know?? Like I'm attached to my current theme but like I wanna switch it up to something ( I had an amino phase) like IL my 12 year old self is probs gonna see my blog and wonder why it's so unaesthetic 💀💀💀💀💀

Like I used to have everything in theme and matching but lowkey I'm lazy now . props to those blogs that do look so pretty and aesthetic ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ like yall are so stunning

I’ve been waiting so long to request a part two to the story you wrote where Makarov learns he has a daughter and takes her from her mom. Like especially if said daughter puts up a fight and tries to refuse everything he gives her.

Cw: DARKFIC, kidnapping, forced relationship, tell me if I missed any.

“милая,” Makarov - or your father as he liked to call himself - sighed exasperatedly, his dark eyes glued to your figure, “You’ll eventually need to listen, the world isn’t a safe place.” [Darling]

He watched you roll your eyes, acting like a petulant child despite the years you’ve spent by his side. Five years in and you still fought him at every turn. You were studious, smart and quick-learning, but you feigned oblivion - faked stupidity - just to enrage your tutors enough to force them to leave, if not, you’d force their hand by thinning their already strained patience until they cracked.

He’s been forced to hire different tutors again, and again, and again, the unending cycle of hiring and quitting weighing on his mind more than it did on his wallet. Although they left within the first few months, Makarov learned that you had caught on, however small you were taught was ingrained in your mind. Perhaps not a photographic memory, but a fast and good one.

“And that’s because of who, huh?” you scoffed, crossing your arms and slouched on your chair, the plush fabric moulding to fit your shape, “Cuz last time I checked, I lived a perfectly safe life with mom.”

You stared idly at the plate, the perfectly cooked steak with sauce and spice peppered with perfection and vegetables decorating the sides as if your diner was a piece of art. You always complained about what a waste of time and money it was to be spending on embellishing food when it’d end up disfigured and cut and digested, but to him, it was all about the image. Maybe it was different for you —it certainly was. Everything in his organisation was about the strong image he held, and you were just a part of it: his rebellious and angry daughter, but smart and independent, quick on her feet and silver-tongued with her words.

That made him the proudest. How people underestimated you, spoke in Russian and let a few secrets slip when they were near you simply because you’d never bothered to speak the language or hadn’t grew up beside him. Everyone knew you were his bastard-turned-princess daughter, but you looked like an angry child, moody and childish, untaught and too western to understand them.

“You weren’t, милая,” he shook his head, cutting into his medium rare steak, admiring the pale red that oozed around the cut, “It’s safer for you here —with me. They would have found you, perhaps not then, but later, one day.”

He couldn’t afford losing a piece of himself to his enemies or allies-turned-traitors, to willingly hand them his precious child. So he reached out first, took you in and made sure you were taught from the best. Where you lacked in ballet and dance and piano, you excelled in academics and martial arts. You fought him on it, but still attended these class, knowing that it would only help you. You were stubborn, but not dumb, something he loved about you.

“Eat, you have a new tutor coming in an hour.”

taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce 

I'm not accusing you! I really liked your work, but as someone remotely connected to the Russian special services, I can add that there is no CIA in Russia, there is the FSB.

Heyy thanks for the feedback bcz I didn't know !!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thank you for reading !!

HI! I love your writing style and I love the way you wrote the characters! I was wondering if you'd continue the "pull me in" work. No pressure though! It's just really good! You have a marvelous day :3

Hihi !!! >.<

I'm not sure when I'll update any of my works atm but I'll try

WAIT SAME OMG WE'RE TWINING

↪ 07. An explosion of emotions

PREV PART trigger warnings: anger, medical + emotional neglect, shouting, Reader loses their shit because Jason triggers their fight and flight, mental breakdown, mentions of wanting to die, basically a very angsty and dark chapter misgendering (Reader isn't out yet), introduction of a dc character main m.list           series m.list

Ignorance is bliss, and you wish you kept that ignorance. After Maria sent you an article that has been logging Penguin crimes, you just couldn’t help but research them obsessively as you walk back to the manor.

You wince as you see a mugshot from your supervisor flash by. Yeah, you are closing this article and forgetting everything you read. The job pays well, and when you get into university you’ll just quit and get a job or two on campus. It will most likely be shit pay, but at least it wouldn’t morally weigh on you. “Just until you can move out,” you mumble as you open the front door. “and the colleagues are kind…”

When you walk through the door, there was Jason, you try to ignore him. Swimming in your thoughts, yet to notice how impatient he has been, how irritation was brewing in the air.

“You and I are going to have a chat about your behaviour towards Alfie,” Jason says, snapping you out of your thoughts and your eyes snap up to his. You could feel your heart start to pound, why was Todd speaking to you. “and before you refuse, we are going to the park.”

He looks irritated, but his eyes aren’t that glowing green. They are dull, not the vibrant colour that haunts you every time you close your eyes. “...No…” you assert, picking the skin around your fingers, your posture slumped and you look terrified. “I see no need to go anywhere with you, I see no reason why you would need to speak to me about my behaviour.”

He just sighs and shakes his head. “My god, I suggested a public area, we need to talk because you’re a disrespectful piece of shit. Stop being a---”

“No. We don’t, and you are the piece of shit! I am just done taking everyone’s bullshit.” you interrupt, your tone harsher and your stance more confident than before but you still look pathetic to Jason. You still look like the same teen he beat up that day, sure your eyes are harsher and your body is littered with scars he gave you. But you are still the same pathetic child clingy to the memories of your mother. “You have yet to show remorse for your actions after all these years, I will never be alone with you again.”

He scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s not like he could deny that the apology was insincere, and he still feels little to no remorse. He sighs; “It was years ago, grow up.”

“Why don’t you fucking grow up!” you suddenly shout, throwing your bag on the ground. The echo of your shout loud and you could hear doors open. “You beat up a child! I was barely a teen and you still can’t fucking apologise! You still can’t look me in my eyes and admit what you did was wrong! None of you can! I was attacked by my supposed brother in my own room!” You could feel your muscles tense as your pain intensifies, anger is a painful emotion to have. But to hold it in is even more painful. “You destroyed most of what I had left of my mother and her family! Why?! Because you were jealous that Bruce took in his recently orphaned biological child?!”

You step closer to Jason, your eyes are scaring him, you look like you are in pain. But at the same time you look vengeful. You look like you’ve been pushed to the limit. “You don’t understand,” he hisses, stepping closer to you. He won’t be intimidated by a civilian.

“Then fucking let me!” you shout, basically spitting it out. Your nose flaring and your hands shaking. “You all tell me that I don’t understand, yet you all tell me that I have to forgive and forgive as you tear my heart out! And I am done! I am finally getting my life together, finally taking the next steps. And now you suddenly want to talk?! But you still refuse to explain?!”

You laugh, it was hysterical. If Jason didn’t know the laughs of the Joker, intimately, he would compare them in a heartbeat. Without thinking he grabs your arms, trying to force you away from him. Your siblings were watching the fight, he didn’t want to turn around to see Stephanie, Cassandra and Barbara. If he did, he would see their confused faces. He would see how they don’t understand your anger, and he would see Tim finally telling them the full story. A story that Cassandra had deciphered from just your shouting. A story that made it seem like you were in great physical pain.

“None of you have any rights to my time!” You shout, trying to get your arms lose from Jason’s grip. “And you have no right to touch me!” But Jason still didn’t let you go, you want to keep shouting, you want to shout at him until he let’s you go. Until he realises what harm he has done to you. Until your whole family finally realises all they’ve done, why did Tim seek you out? Why couldn’t Alfred just leave you be?! Why couldn’t you just keep your anger hidden until you were gone?! “Stop touching me, I hate you. I wish I died that day! I wish I didn’t have to live like this!”

You weren’t even shouting at him anymore. You were shouting at all of them, you were shouting about everything they’ve put you through. But you were also finally letting out the emotional pain your illness has given you. You’re shouting to the heavens, you are shouting to whoever will listen. You are shouting because the pain has finally become too much to handle.

The straw that breaks the camel's back has finally come.

You’re like a bucket overflowing with water, you are full of emotions that Jason had never seen you express. The only time he has ever seen you shake like this was that day, oh gods, what has he done?

You’re broken in ways he will never understand. You are in pain, and he’s the reason why. You are slipping, you’re breaking down and he doesn’t know what to do. “Step away from them,” he suddenly hears Duke’s voice, a boy that Bruce had recently thought about adopting, a meta that joined their ranks. Wait, is he calling her, them? “before I knock your teeth out.”

Jason steps backs in shock, his hold of you disappearing, but you didn’t even notice. Your hands going up to your shoulders as you start scratching. Oh my dear, you look crazed, you look as if you belong in Arkham Asylum. And Duke, he looks like he knows you. “(Name)” Duke whispers, trying to get you to stop scratching yourself. It almost seems as if you were trying to scratch away your pain, and by the gods, you were attempting to. Your fingertips bleeding, your eyes full of tears. “I am here, it’s Duke, your lab partner, what can I do for you?”

“I need to die,” you whisper, your eyes snap to his. “can you kill me?”

“You know I can’t,” he whispers, brushing some of your hair out of your face. Carefully making sure that his fingers don’t get tangled in your hair, if his fingers were to do that you would panic even more. Your mind would set you back even more, at least now you seem partly lucid. “but I can and will listen.”

You choke on a sob, and tears start streaming down your face as you slowly stop scratching. You barely know him, and here he is in your home (for whatever reason unknown to you), offering his ear to you. “What’s going on?!” Jason whisper-shouts, staring at Dick for guidance. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know how to act, not with the slimy feeling in his chest. Not with this voice in his head whispering that this is all his fault. Dick stares at him and mouths; ‘I have no idea’

But you ignore it all.

“You promise?” You ask Duke, your eyes show how scared you are to be hurt. Your body language defensive. Black spots were slowing clouding the corner of your eyes.

“I promise.”

And with that you close your eyes.

NEXT PART Notice how I was in a dramatic mood here?

taglist: Taglist: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways (is there a limit with tagging people or something???)

Incorrect Quotes

summary : incorrect quotes for my lone warrior series .

read lone warrior series here || like + comment + share please !!

Batfam : Damian who is your favorite family member?

Damian : No one, you all are incompetent

*reader walks in*

Damian : *running towards them at full speed* BLOOD SIBLING YOU'RE BACK !!

Batfam : *watches in jealousy*

Jason : Where is a good place to hide if you don't want to be found by the government ?

Reader: - 77° 50' 59.99" S , 166° 39' 59.99" E

Dick :WHY DO YOU KNOW THAT BY HEART???

Reader: :D 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯

Tim : *staring at reader intently*

Reader: *stares at him in boredom*

Tim : you look familiar .......

Reader: Yeah, I think I went out with your mom once *absolutely shitting with him*

Tim : *mortified* WHAT ????

Reader: It wasn't my fault she was charmed by the male version of myself.

Dick :It must suck to be in a morgue like there's nothing fun there .

Reader: I once won a competition for being the prettiest person in a morgue - you can say I practically killed it . Oh, off note the beds there are great to sleep in-

Batfam : *stares at reader in utter mortification*

Bruce : WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY KILLED IT ??

Reader: 😇😇😇💃💃💃

Stephanie :What are your hobbies, reader ?

Reader: I like walking up to random people and shaking their hands only to tell them I have successfully transferred a rare , non - curable disease to them and that they have 1 hour left to live and watch them freakout and cry their eyes out while I walk away.

Stephanie :😨😨😨😨😰😰😰

Duke :any tips for life ?

Reader: You can turn paint thinner into cherry soda if you're desperate for soda that's cherry flavored.

Duke : :that's not a tip-

Reader: *shrugs* suit yourself

Barbara : I would actually like to know more on that.

Cassandra :what's good dating advice ?

Reader: sell it.

this is so random. Sorry 😭😭😭

chapter 3 is still in the works but I felt bad for leaving you amazing pple with nothing for too long so hoped you enjoyed this 💜💜💜💖💖

Taglist

@ellethesleepypotato @1abi @pix-stuff @shadowytravelerlover @cxcilla @vanessa-boo @not-your-average-url @sirenetheblogger @fennecspage @cj-theyoungling @jsprien213 @lonelyladyghost @type-ink @ryuushou @twismare @crazycaoticsimp @bunnyharp @narmothewraith @leelovesmadly @geminis93 @introvertedreader @jellystarjam @glowinthedarkjellyfish @not-a @seemee3 @radomperson2010 @delusiontown-exe @queenofdumbfuckery @bunniotomia @k-homosapien @khalinda-ev @lexi-username-1 @amber-content @yourhornysister @redkarma @scoutyyy @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni

ᴼᴺᴱ ᴼᶠ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴳᴵᴿᴸˢ

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

one of the girls

(by the weeknd)

◁◁ Ⅱ ▷▷

0:00 ●───────────4:51

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOO

I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

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

part 1 of die young

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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