Reiya

“You can't change the past, but you can share the loneliness of the moment.”

★ [M.LIST] ★

★ [RULES] ★

ABOUT ME!

✧ Reiya / Rei — INFP | Central Asian | Multi-Fandom, Lesbian

Fandoms I'm in:

DC, FNAF, MCU, Sally Face, Arcane, Anime (Link Click, BSD, Chainsaw Man, TBHK, TSHD, Lain, Demon Slayer, Given, MTP, Death Note, Seraph of the End, ALSNT), Dexter (only 2-3 seasons), No, I'm Not a Human, Lord of the Rings, DDLC (just Natsuki actually), Genshin

✧Pronouns: She/They—

ASK ME ANYTHING: My inbox is always open for questions! (No hate please 🩷)

— WRITING: I’m writing for fun and still learning. English is my second language, so thank you for being patient with my style!

— REQUESTS: OPEN. I’ll do my best to write your prompts, but please note that updates might be slow.

TW!

I usually write dark themes. For my "x Reader" stories, I use GN!Reader (Gender-Neutral) perspective.

Batfam x Neglected Jinx!Reader x Silco

Sm: You were always someone who could be easily discarded.

Your family never cared about you or saw your potential.

And when you were blamed for the death of the only person who was ever good to you, you knew you couldn't stay there anymore.

You ran away and were taken by Silco.

He didn't kill you, though; he saw the potential in you and used it.

When you crossed paths with the people you used to call family, they realized you were irreversible—that you had become Silco’s daughter.

Yet they couldn't stop trying.

Even knowing you would never go back to being that sweet child.

Tw: ​Tw: Female Reader, neglect, reader is Jinx, Silco is your father, mentions of psychological disorders, mentions of Vi and Vander's deaths, reader being blamed for their deaths, running away, mentions of Silco manipulating you, violence, gunshot injury (not caused by the reader)

a/n: I wrote this based on a suggestion.

This isn't yandere content; they will simply regret it for the rest of their lives, and Jinx will stay away from them.

Sevika is like an older sister to you.

And I know Silco didn't call Jinx his daughter this much in the show, but he views her as his daughter, so in a situation like this, the immediate thing he would say is that Jinx is his daughter.

And Bruce can't say anything because, no matter how much Silco manipulates you, he claims you as his own and acts practically like a father to you.

Bruce knows that even if he gave Silco everything he ever wanted, he couldn't make him give you up, and that shatters him because he wouldn't have done the same.

Please don't hesitate to ask questions or make requests!

If you're interested, you can also check out my Yandere Batfam x Isha!reader x Yandere Jinx fic.

Enjoy reading!

You were left with no one when the people who looked after you died.

Vi had always played the role of the protective older sister; your innocence had triggered that instinct in her. And Vander was known for caring for orphans. You were his daughters. Nothing could ever change that.

Until they died. Both of them died.

You didn't know who killed them, or why they died. All you knew was that Zaun was no longer a home to you.

You loved this place, but it wasn't doing you any good; it played a part in your descent into madness.

You had always been strange, the one who was easy to discard.

And the person defined as your biological father had been able to cast you aside just as easily.

You didn't even want to mention your siblings.

What was it about you that pushed them away? You were just a child, you wanted attention and to be loved, but you could never get it.

The only one who gave you the love you actually deserved was Jason. His innocent personality and the fact that he had seen the harshness of Gotham’s streets made him feel close to you. He even taught you how to fight.

He wasn’t at the manor very often, and after his death, you didn't really want to step foot there. But you tried to endure it for his sake.

You were never afraid of him; it didn't matter that he had killed people, he would never hurt the innocent.

He always had a stubborn nature and was constantly standing up to Bruce. And you were to blame for that. Bruce had blamed you.

You had led him astray.

This deeply upset you because you had only supported your older brother and stood by him.

Was it your fault that you became his only treasured possession after his death?

He was the only one who showed you affection, aside from Vi and Vander.

They had argued over it.

You had defended him, throwing his indifference right back in his face.

"I don't think someone who leaves his own daughter in loneliness can call himself a father to us."

Perhaps that was the very remark that made Bruce grow even harsher toward you. He had no sympathy left for you; to him, you were just a harbinger of bad luck who shouldn't exist.

Dick was polite to you, he would say hello, but that was all. No matter how hard you tried to approach him, you couldn't tear down the walls built between you.

Tim simply didn't see you.

He genuinely didn't see you. You weren't interesting, you were an annoying brat, and you weren't worth paying attention to.

That was why he never paid attention to you.

Damian despised you.

At every opportunity, he was the reason you cried, got upset, and had breakdowns. You were weak, you brought bad luck upon them, and you were a piece of worthless trash.

Nothing less could be expected from someone coming out of Zaun.

Jason was the only one who comforted you, but they tried to pull him away from you.

They were stripping away your only lifeline.

No one could ever know how much you hated that it worked; Jason couldn't spend time with you due to his already short-tempered nature and his frequent absence from the manor, which pulled him further away from you.

When your fear of abandonment surfaced, you wrapped your small arms around his waist, crying and begging.

All you wanted was not to lose your older brother, just like you lost your sister and your father—no, not Bruce, Vander.

Too late.

He pushed you to the ground and said things you would never, ever forget.

"Stop being a spoiled brat, you're as annoying as Damian. Leave me alone."

Running into him during a moment of anger was pure bad luck.

Or, as Mylo would say, it was just because you were Jinx.

Your mental health steadily deteriorated, and you started seeing hallucinations. In the corner of your room—calling that place a room made your stomach turn—you would suffer breakdowns, screaming and crying.

When that incident happened, the one that drove you to flee the manor, you finally understood that you would never have a family.

"She ruins everything, these things happen to us because of her jinx. That woman and man probably died because of her, too."

No one objected to Damian's words.

Déjà vu.

It sounded just like what Mylo used to tell you.

Jinx.

How dare she blame you for the deaths of your sister and your father? You would never hurt them.

With tears in your eyes, you fled the manor and ran through the streets of Gotham. It was a huge stroke of luck that the Joker didn't notice you.

Without realizing it, you crossed the borders of Gotham and set foot in Zaun. The tears had dried on your cheeks.

You didn't know how it happened, but somehow you ran into Silco. Even though his eye looked a bit frightening, he caught your interest; he was quite bizarre yet cool. Despite his thin build, he had a self-assured stance. The people you used to call your family were built and never hesitated to use their physical strength. Silco, on the other hand, looked like he could defeat anyone with his mind alone.

You didn't know it yet, but he could defeat everyone except you.

You looked at him with both fear and admiration.

You couldn't possibly know how shocked Silco was when he saw you. He had assumed you were dead; after all, you were a nothing without your sister and Vander.

Yet, you were alive.

To Silco, this situation was annoying; he had wiped out everything left of them, but apparently, he had been wrong.

He couldn't exactly say he enjoyed killing a child, you were small, but he wanted to eliminate any possibility of you getting in his way.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, something completely unexpected happened.

Sobbing, you hurled yourself at him. His men, thinking it was an attack, moved to intervene, but froze in their tracks when they saw your arms wrap around the old man's waist and your head bury itself in his chest.

You had knocked him to the ground and were hugging him with all your might, crying.

Silco couldn't move; saying he was shocked would be an understatement, he was experiencing perhaps the greatest shock of his life. Even being betrayed by Vander hadn't left him completely frozen like this.

"They're not my family, he is not my father! They betrayed me!"

The words you spoke with hatred and anger touched his heart. You couldn't see the understanding blooming on his face, but when he wrapped his arms around you, you finally felt accepted.

This terrifying, foreign, old man had hugged you.

"It's alright, we'll show them, we'll show all of them."

Those words sank deep into your heart, and you held onto him even tighter. He held you back as if he would never let you go.

You entrusted yourself to him.

The sheep had given herself to the wolf.

At first, Silco only intended to use you. You were merely a tool to be utilized.

You were smart, skilled at crafting things, and easily manipulated.

He fed on your fears.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he saw that childish, pure determination within you, your admiration for him, and that mended the first cracks in his frozen, hardened heart.

The way you looked at him was so captivating that he found himself inexplicably drawn to you.

He turned you into a magnificent weapon for Zaun, manipulated you, and used your fragility.

Yet, at the same time, he was the very first person to accept you as Jinx.

For the first time, someone spoke your name not with disgust, but filled with belief and awe.

Before long, the two of you grew attached to each other, and you were his most precious possession.

You were his daughter.

Not that man with warped morals, nor his blind sons.

They were nothing to you.

You belonged to him.

His daughter.

Sevika didn't like you at first, she saw you as annoying and didn't understand why Silco was so attached to you.

But then she slowly started to warm up to you.

She became your older sister figure, she taught you how to fight.

You caught on quickly, you made annoying pranks, but you were cute.

You found your real family.

By now, you were one of Gotham's living nightmares, everyone knew you were insane.

The only person who could rein you in was Silco, and he hated Gotham so much that he didn't do a single thing to stop you.

You still saw visions, you still had breakdowns.

But you were happy nonetheless.

You blew places up, you spent time with your father.

What more could you possibly want?

With your long hair, weapons, and revealing clothes, you were recognized everywhere you went.

You had become a symbol.

It didn't take long for your fake family to notice this state of affairs.

When they saw you, you were blowing up a place, you had grown up so much, and the madness in your facial expression separated you from your innocent self, but they still recognized you.

They tried to stop you, filled with regret.Bruce had failed once again, Dick had failed his duty as an older brother, Jason had lost what mattered most to him, Tim hadn't realized your brilliance, and Damian had ruined his only full sibling for nothing.

You were beyond repair, but that didn't stop them from trying.

Because you were still a part of their family.

Right?

They found out how wrong they were very quickly.

This time, they were so determined to bring you back that they had planned things out meticulously.

But there was someone they hadn't anticipated.

Silco.

You were by his side, and Sevika was guarding you.

You looked happy.

You still looked out of your mind, but you were happy.

Bruce stepped forward, all of them in their vigilante costumes.

Seeing them made you furious to the point of madness.

"What do you want?"

Your harsh and hate-filled voice made Dick flinch. He tried to coax you into thinking rationally, but he was cut off by a bullet that deliberately missed him.

"I don't have time to deal with your fake affections."

Silco stood proudly, while the Bat-Family was left devastated.

"Look, Y/N—"

"Jinx! My name is Jinx."

You didn't care that you interrupted him, and he continued.

"We realize we neglected you and we are so very sorry, won't you give us a chance? You are still my daughter."

Silco's harsh voice cut in, and everyone looked at him.

"She is my daughter. Everything ended when you didn't let her leave that night."

You would have had to be dead not to feel the boiling rage radiating from your supposed father and brothers. Sevika shielded Silco and you with her metal arm, glaring at them with a vicious look.

"She has nothing to do with a psycho like you!"

At Jason's shout, you turned to him and wished you hadn't. The pure hatred in your eyes made him want to drop to his knees and beg.

"Didn't you tell me the last time we spoke that I was just a spoiled brat, Hood? Or did death make you forgetful?"

Those words shattered him completely. He hadn't realized how deeply he had hurt you.

"All of you are just hypocrites. You showed me zero attention during the time I was at the manor, and now you dare claim I'm part of your family? For someone who claims to be a father, Batman, you were far too absent. And what about you, Dick? I constantly begged to get attention from you, but all you ever did was cater to Damian, because I hadn't suffered as much trauma as him. Tim, you have no right to speak at all. You didn't even notice my existence. And my only full sibling treated me like I was the criminal. I was nothing more than Zaun trash, wasn't I? Now I'm where I belong, you can be happy."

No one could speak a single word after your tirade. You were furious, ready to shoot them, and just waiting for a single signal.

That signal came from Jason. He fired at Silco, who was standing right behind you. To him, Silco was the one who had warped your mind.

Your reflexes kicked in instantly, and you wounded Jason in the shoulder. No one expected that.

But any move made against your father was a move made against you.

You didn't kill Jason; you couldn't bring yourself to kill him. If it had been anyone other than Jason, you would have killed them without a second thought.

No, you were angry at him and you hated him.

But he was the only one who had treated you well in the manor, the one who defended you against them. No matter how much he had drifted away from you and said things you could never forgive, you cared enough not to kill him.

He was already dead anyway, there was no need for him to die twice.

As long as he didn't kill Silco, you wouldn't kill him.

"If anyone lays a hand on him again, I'll shoot them straight through the heart."

And with that, you turned your back and walked away. They could only watch you leave.

For the first time, Damian ran toward you with tears in his eyes and hugged you. You didn't turn around. You didn't look at him. But you didn't push him away either. You just waited for him to let go.

This was your last act of endurance toward him.

"I'm sorry."

And he let go.

He couldn't stop you, they had to let you go.

Yes, they would fight you, they would try to stop your crimes, and they would look at you with longing in their eyes, but they wouldn't try to drag you back anymore.

Because you had built a new life, you had found a new family.

Y/N was gone.

Jinx was here.

And not even Silco could stop Jinx.

They had lost you, and it was simply too far gone to turn back.

Some mistakes cannot be undone, and the regret of it lasts a lifetime.

(I saw you had both arcane and dc on your fandoms so i mashed them together!)

Platonic Yandere Batfam x Isha!Reader

Chapter 5

Tw: Death, violence, blood, neglect, alcohol, Zaun-specific concepts, Jinx, psychological disorders, yandere behaviors, obsession, kidnapping, jealousy, angst, and many more.

a/n: English is not my native language, so there might be some mistakes. Please be kind 🩷

Jinx finally appeared!

And the Batfamily's yandere tendencies are fully out in the open, too.​

I didn't expect this to be so long, but let's just assume it's an apology for not updating in such a long time. My phone broke, so I'm writing this from another device.

​In the next chapter, I'll also touch upon Jinx's point of view.​

The events will be tied to Arcane—yet at the same time, not entirely. To explain: yes, a long time has passed since Silco's death, and Jinx encounters [the reader/Isha-esque dynamic] shortly after. But in my timeline, Jinx has taken a break for months. Sevika has tried over and over to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge, and eventually, they had an even bigger fight. Jinx went right back to mourning Silco, wandering around Zaun just to get away from Sevika for a bit.

​Also, Jinx is wanted by Gotham.​

The events will kind of follow the show's flow, but I'll be adding my own things to it. And Jinx is going to be seriously, intensely protective—a true Yandere who would do absolutely anything for the reader.​

I'm guessing the next chapter is going to be long, too.

​Anyway, please leave comments and show some engagement 🩷

First - Next

"Didn't anyone notice Y/N was here?"

Damian's question was enough to silence everyone and make them look at him. Even the family members who talked the most had fallen silent and were struck dumb.

Damian, on the other hand, was furious. Yes, he was a hypocrite and he had done the same thing, but at least he had noticed and fought for you.

These people hadn't even bothered to notice you.

"I mean, do you really call yourselves a family? You care so little about a little girl that you don't even notice she doesn't exist."

When Tim opened his mouth to defend himself, Damian stopped him with a hand. He wouldn't turn a blind eye to excuses.

"I realize I did the same thing, even that I hurt her. But I'm trying. I went to the old place she lived to be a good brother to her. I'm doing what you aren't."

His harsh voice caused everyone to shrink into themselves; his words were true, they had affected everyone and frozen their blood.

"You aren't even mature enough to realize you neglected her. Do you know how horrifying a place Zaun is? Of course you don't; you didn't try hard enough to gain knowledge about that spooky place everyone fears, because you refused to face the reality—we refused."

Now, don't get it wrong—Damian of course respected his family and knew they had neglected you unintentionally, or at least he guessed so—but they still should have realized. You were a child, younger even than Damian, and how could any of them see the place you lived and just ignore you?"

(Y/N) belongs in this manor, and nothing can change that. I am not going to lose my only full sibling."

How could they not realize that you were trying to create a safe space for yourself because of your loneliness?

They had failed as a family, and Damian was going to fix it.

Without waiting for a single word, he walked out.

Cass

Ever since she heard those words, Cass had been lost in her own thoughts and couldn't lift her face. Words weren't enough to describe her regret.

No, she hadn't wanted to neglect you, and she truly loved you. She was aware of you; she was always aware.

She understood the hardships you had lived through, knew how terrifying the place you came from was, and would have loved to approach you.

Mais she was so scared and hesitant that she couldn't gather the courage. She couldn't even describe the weight that sat on her chest every time she saw you.

She still saw herself as a monster and didn't want to scare you. You had already been through enough, and you shouldn't have had to deal with her weirdness. She was afraid she would startle you. She was aware that most of this was due to her own paranoia; you had grown up in Zaun and faced much scarier people, but she couldn't help it.

She didn't know how to approach you.

That's why she was blaming herself even more right now. She thought, "I wish I had tried to get closer to you."

To make up for it, she would spend more time with you and give you the attention you deserved.

She hoped you would forgive her and let her be a good sister to you.

Jason

At first, he hadn't cared about these sentences. With enough on his plate in his own life, he hadn't wanted to deal with you. He knew Zaun was bad, but how bad could it really be? Besides, Bruce was supposed to take care of you, so he wasn't needed.

Right...?

Who was he kidding? Of course he was. He was the one who should have understood you best. Who knows what horrors you had witnessed, and Jason was so angry because of it. He should have looked out for you. He himself had been cast out, let down by his family. And now, he had ignored a child whose mother had died, who was forced to stay around people who made her unable to speak, and who had been left out.

What made him any different from them?

He had never claimed to be a good person or a good brother; he definitely wasn't a good person, but kids were his red line, and you were a kid, too. He was so remorseful for leaving you alone.

He didn't know how to approach you; actually, that was the reason why he hadn't talked to you in the first place, and then he had just forgotten your existence.

From now on, he would treat you well, be by your side, and look after you.

There was nothing he could do other than hope you wouldn't abandon him.

Bruce

Bruce had never been a good father, and he was well aware of it. Of course, you couldn't exactly call him a bad father either; he cared about all his kids, but he had made such irreversible mistakes that he felt incapable of fatherhood.

Jason might just be the biggest example of that.

He was well aware that he frequently let him and the others down.

He argued a lot with Dick, and Jason wouldn't listen to him anymore.

He might be the protector of Gotham, but he could never be the ideal father.

He couldn't help the guilt eating away at the inside of him. He hadn't shown you any attention at all, hadn't even tried to talk to you.

Among all his children, you were the only one he had completely failed at.

You were so small and fragile, he should have protected you, but instead, he had ignored you.

He knew the reason was absurd, and he hated it.

He was afraid of you.

Zaun had always been an unsolvable puzzle to him.

He protected and defended Gotham, but Zaun was full of the unknown to him. It was too far gone, corrupted beyond salvation.

After all, it was a place managed by someone like Silco and where Jinx emerged. And you had come from there.

Yes, you were an innocent child, but you carried the blood of that place.

Silco had messed with him for years, caused him trouble, and he had never been able to get a grip on Zaun. Even when Silco died, he hadn't dared.

Because Zaun hated him.

He knew it; it was impossible not to notice the anger in their eyes. Silco's real goal was to destroy him and Gotham—actually, he knew Silco wanted respect, but they wouldn't hesitate once they got power—and as much as he hated to admit it, he was scared.

That's why he was scared of you, too.

What if you were like them? What if he couldn't stop you?

He couldn't maintain control, and he had found the solution in forgetting you.

A mistake. A huge mistake.

Now he had neglected his only biological daughter, and he wouldn't even have known if Damian hadn't said anything.

He would conquer his fear, take care of you, and be a good father to you. At least he would try.Please forgive him and love him.

He was your father.

Dick

Dick was completely shattered.

He was aware of his obsession with being a big brother and tried very hard to be a reliable, perfect brother to everyone.

Well, how could someone who neglected his sibling be a good brother?

Actually, he loved you. Truly loved you. You just weren't around the manor very often, and you had only recently joined. He needed to be given time.

Still, he knew none of these were excuses.

He had neglected you and failed.

How could he not be like this toward you while being so attentive to the others?

It hurt, he wanted to hug you, but he had to hold himself back right now. He had to prevent his fragile emotions from transferring to you.

Please tell him he's a good brother.

He could make up for it; he could do it.

Just as long as you forgive him.

That was all he wanted.

Tim

Tim's brain was in total chaos. He was a complete control freak, and he had completely missed you.

How could he?

How did he know nothing about you except that you were from Zaun?

You hadn't caught his interest, you were just from Zaun, and the fact that he knew almost nothing about Zaun drove him crazy.

That's why he had dismissed you, why he hadn't cared.

But you couldn't just blame him; you hadn't tried either—he knew the reason why you hadn't tried, but he was trying to make excuses anyway—.

His obsessive brain was on the verge of a breakdown; knowing absolutely nothing about you drove him nuts.

He knew pretty much everything about everyone in the family, but you were an enigma.

When he realized he didn't see you as part of the family, he was devastated.

Maybe you were one of the most intriguing people, but he hadn't been able to notice it.

But he could fix it! Just let him get to know you.

He would fix everything.

Steph

Steph didn't feel much. Yes, she felt guilty, but it didn't affect her as much as the others. She didn't feel like she belonged to this family, not entirely anyway. And you were so young.

What could she even talk to you about?

Of course, ignoring you was wrong, but she had enough going on in her own life. Was it wrong of her to assume you were getting attention from other family members?

Besides, you had never tried to approach her; if you had talked to her, she would have gladly spent time with you—she had forgotten that you couldn't speak—.

Still, she felt a little bit of guilt.

But she could make up for it; she could love you like her little sister.

You would go shopping together, dress up, and watch TV shows.

Now that she thought about it, she could shape you. She could turn you into a copy of herself and be your favorite older sister, as if you were her biological younger sister.

That's why she hoped you wouldn't be too angry with her.

She was going to be a great older sister.

Barbara

Barbara's feelings were mixed. When she saw you, a protective feeling had welled up inside her; you were so weak and beat down. But she was so overwhelmed by her own problems that she hadn't found the time to approach you.

The fact that you also had a disability and that they had contributed to the formation of this disability deeply affected her.

Moreover, she hadn't done it despite being one of the people who should have felt closest to you and claimed you the most.

She swore she didn't do it on purpose, but that still didn't justify her.

You couldn't even imagine the guilt she was feeling right now.

She promised to give you all her attention from now on, she would give you the love you deserved.

Please don't shut her out.

Duke

At first, Duke didn't understand. Of course, them ignoring you was bad, but it wasn't something that couldn't be fixed right away.

Right?

After all, you were a child and every member of the family was busy. You would forgive them.

But for some reason, he couldn't be sure of that.

When Damian treated you badly, no one had defended you, and Duke was included in that.

Thinking about it now, Duke also felt like a foreigner in this family, and you probably had felt that way too.

He felt regret, but he couldn't turn back time. So, he would spend as much time with you as possible and teach you almost everything.

He would do anything with you, as long as you gave him permission.

Maybe then he would understand better why the family felt so terrible.

Suddenly, you didn't know what changed, but the whole family started revolving around you, and it was driving you crazy.

You could tolerate Damian a little bit; yes, he was the first one who hurt you, but at least he had made up for it.

And because the animals were constantly with you, he had become a good companion.

He was a little too intense; even though he didn't like physical touch very much, he wanted to be with you every second and acted like a rabid dog toward the others, but you couldn't stay mad at him.

"You must learn to defend yourself, you are my sibling!"

He had lectured you about this for an hour straight and dragged you to the training room by force. Sometimes he was really, really annoying.

Other than that, you were grateful to him for making sure you didn't get bored before leaving this manor. He had taught you how to write, and you drew pictures together. Even if you weren't as good as him, he taught you.

Then there was Cass; her presence was even more intense than Damian's, acting like your shadow. Most of the time, wherever you went, she was there, and this made you uncomfortable.

You couldn't go to your secret spot!

She also had a habit of holding your hand; it was as if this gave her strength. Even if you weren't sitting next to each other at meals, she would find a way and hold your hand.

The only thing you liked was communicating with sign language. Unlike you, she could speak, but she felt more comfortable expressing herself with hand movements.

She had taken on the role of your protective older sister.

You didn't want to be mad at her, and it wouldn't have worked anyway. Since you couldn't speak like the others, you couldn't even yell. But there was something about her that stirred sympathy. And this scared you.

Because in Zaun, sympathy was a sign of something that shouldn't exist.

Still, you had gotten used to it.

Jason didn't stay in the manor very much, it seemed like there was a feud between him and Bruce. But he dropped by more often to spend time with you.

Generally, he would carry you in his lap, take you to the library, and read classic books to you. He would make you lean against him.

Once you had cried in front of his eyes, and this had driven him into a panic. He hadn't understood what was happening and could only hug you.

Because whenever you read books, he would make you lean against him and his warmth would embrace you. This reminded you of your mother.

Your mother was a cultured woman and took pleasure in reading books to you. Back then, you would lean against her, nestle into the warmth of her body, and fall asleep listening to her peaceful voice.

Jason had reminded you of your mother.

That's why you did something you hadn't done before and grabbed his shirt, crying. He felt both astonishment and pride, but he misinterpreted the reason why you sought refuge in him.

You just wanted your mother's warmth.

"Shh, I've got you, my angel..."

This made you cry even more.

After that day, it never happened again because no matter how well Jason treated you, you didn't want to get attached to him.

Bruce, on the other hand, was weird. He was trying to father you, but you never wanted this.

He would seat you next to him or even on his lap while eating, fuss over you, and act quite gentle toward you.

But you didn't like this.What had changed? What had happened that he suddenly started showing you attention?

Once you had fallen ill, and he had hardly left your side.

"Let your father take care of you, sweetie."

He had said, and you hadn't said a thing.

The only person you wanted to take care of you was your mother.

Why didn't he understand this? You weren't going to accept him just because he suddenly started acting like a father.

Was he trying to make a fool out of you?

You showed no interest in him at all.

Tim, on the other hand, was almost as if he wasn't there, yet he was. He would examine you, sometimes ask you questions, and look at you with an expression you couldn't make sense of.

Every now and then when he couldn't sleep, he would come to your room and sleep with you, and this made you quite uncomfortable.

You thought he was quite weird.

Once, he had locked you in his room and interrogated you.

"Tell me everything about yourself."

When you refused, he had said you couldn't leave this room until you told him, and you finally gave in and told stories full of lies. You weren't stupid.

Steph treated you just like you were her toy doll. She dragged you to the mall by force, made you try on clothes, watch TV shows, and constantly talked about how cute you were.

It was as if you weren't a child, but her toy doll that she could make do whatever she wanted.

"A new store opened, we have to go try it out together!"

When you showed that you didn't want to, she would become terrifying.

That's why you listened to her and begged for whatever came to your mind just for this torture to end.

Barbara, on the other hand, might have been the most understanding of them all. She gave you space, but she didn't leave your side either. Of course, because of her work she couldn't always be with you, but she was by your side as much as she could.

She would talk to you, read books to herself next to you, and listen to you when you explained things with hand signs.

But you were wary of her.

She wasn't a bad person of course, but her approaching you with maternal affection upset you. You didn't want this.

The only person who could approach you like that was your mother. No one else, and even if there were, it couldn't be this family.

Still, you kept this to yourself; you didn't want to upset her.

Duke, on the other hand, would come to your side when he got back from school and spend time with you. He had taught you how to play video games, but you preferred to take the consoles apart and mess with their internals.

Still, you held yourself back. You thought this would draw the attention of the others.

Ever since you were little, you loved tinkering with things, and breaking things down to turn them into different things was part of that.

You could make things like hand grenades, and you took pride in that.

In your spare time, you had made a hat—it looked a bit like a helmet—and you were proud of wearing it too.

Duke noticed this and offered to help you, but you had refused.You spent most of your time with his ideas.

It was fun, but it didn't really catch your interest.

Dick, however, was the clingiest one. He constantly made physical contact with you, hugged you, carried you places, and touched you. Of course, it was a bit exaggerated, but you were like his personal, giant teddy bear, and he was content with that.

Even if you liked it sometimes, you couldn't say you loved it.

But you couldn't say anything against his smiling face.

He was unintentionally manipulating you.

He also talked to you very often—it was mostly a one-sided conversation—and frequently told you about his days. Of course, he had a life, he lived in Blüdhaven, but whenever he dropped by the manor, he definitely spent time with you.

You didn't know why these people, who hadn't cared about you before, suddenly changed their minds, but you didn't care. You were leaving no matter what.

Yes, returning to Zaun was dangerous, but leaving it unsettled your stomach. You had accidentally entered Gotham and sought refuge with Commissioner Gordon purely in search of a momentary solace.

You never had any intention of leaving Zaun.

Actually, you were going to wait a bit longer and then leave, but your blood ran hot with what you heard.

They were arguing and assuming you were sleeping, but you weren't.

As you listened to them through the crack of the door, you froze at what you heard.

"(Y/N) is making plans to leave, we have to stop her."

You startled at Damian's voice, and your eyes widened. How did they know? You were sure you hadn't given anything away.

Ah, right...

There was a notebook where you wrote your escape plans, hidden in your secret spot. You had found a random place in the manor and made sure no one would read it.

You were wrong.

Did Damian know your spot, then?

You got so scared you almost fell to the floor, but you pulled yourself together.

You couldn't let them stop you.

You had to leave, and you had to do it right now.

With quick steps—luckily your steps were silent—you headed to the place you had planned to exit. Everyone was there, and it was impossible for them to see you from the cameras. Of course, Tim might have found a way to watch from afar, but he shouldn't have been fast enough to prevent your escape.

Before getting there, you grabbed the bag and hat you always kept ready. You were already constantly checking if there were cameras on you; Tim often did these things around you thinking you wouldn't understand, but being smart for your age, you had figured it out.He had attached a camera to you, but you had taken it off and placed it in your room.

It annoyed you that they treated you like a fool.

That's why you checked one last time and went to the spot you would use to escape, managing to get out into the garden with a bit of difficulty. There was a chance Alfred could see you; the old man could pop up anywhere at any time, and this was quite spooky, but you knew if he saw you, he would stop you instantly.

Don't get it wrong, he valued you quite a bit, wanted your well-being, and respected your wishes, but Zaun and the streets of Gotham weren't suitable for you.

How could a small child live there?

Still, it was great luck that he didn't see you, and you made the most of it. You had previously found the opportunity to take a walk in the garden, so you had calculated where you could exit.

That's why when you got out of there, you felt so smart that if you could speak, you would have gone to a safe place and given a victory speech.

Through the map you had stolen, you quickly advanced toward the spot leading to the Zaun border; it was quite far, but if you took very few breaks and were fast, it wouldn't take that long. Zaun never gave you the chance to be lazy, and you were quite a punctual person.

Along with occasional rest and food needs, you had finally arrived in Zaun, and its toxic air immediately took its toll on you.

The months you spent in the manor had unaccustomed you to it, and its air thus caused you to go into a crisis. But you knew you would get used to it.

As you quickly walked through the corridors, you felt as if you were right at home.

Wherever you were born, you were doomed to that place, and you had accepted that a long time ago.

While walking with rapid steps, it happened that you bumped into someone and fell to the ground. When you lifted your eyes upward, fear instantly seized your body.

God must have hated you.

The child traffickers who had caused you to flee to Gotham were right in front of you, looking at you. Then they started laughing out loud, and your body reacted instantly, turning around and running in the opposite direction.

"You won't escape this time, brat!"

They were fast, but you were faster. Moreover, faster even than the first ones who chased you.

You were grateful to Damian for making you train.

You had been running for minutes, and you couldn't shake them off. When the bag started feeling heavy, you threw it away and started running just like that.

Knowing that if you kept going like this you would collapse from exhaustion and get caught, this time you headed toward places you would never deviate into.

Thus, you reached the middle corridors of Zaun, the places where the last drop was, and entered a sewer pipe, moving through it. Your tiny body fit completely, and the giant pigs were left behind you.

Still, they didn't give up on your trail. Every time you tried to come out, they appeared in front of you. You bit their hands a few times and heard curses from them.

Now the pipes had grown larger, and your paths had intersected somehow. The pursuit from the outside had ended.

As the footsteps coming from behind increased your panic, when you reached places where one half was empty and the other half was the opposite ground, you jumped even though you hesitated at first, and barely held on. Still, because your lower body remained suspended in midair and you were weak, unfortunately you couldn't hold on any longer and started falling.

Just like that, your work was done, and you were going to fall into the hands of the child traffickers.

Maybe staying at the manor would have been better?

Or maybe you should have died with your mother that day?

While expecting a hard fall, this didn't happen. When you opened your eyes and straightened up, you noticed that a woman was standing in front of you, her pink eyes watching you.

While looking at her with fear and trying to back away a little, the burly men had descended down to where you were and were approaching.

Letting out a whimper, you took refuge in the woman. You begged God for her to save you.

When the woman pulled down the hood on her head, the men stepped back but still tried to approach.

The woman pointed her gun at them, quickly finished their job, and saved you.

SHE SAVED YOU!

When you turned and looked at her, you had noticed her blue hair.

She was so pretty.

When she finished examining you with her pink eyes, she pointed her gun at you, and you startled too. You let out small sounds.

"You feel it? That..."

Making sounds, she first twirled the gun in the air, pressed it against her cheek, looked down at the ground, and then looked back.

Then she pointed the gun at your face again, and you looked at her with curiosity.

"Buzzing behind your eyes?"

Then she started talking again, and you listened to her curiously.

"Because you know, in a moment,"

She brought the gun toward her own head.

"It could all..."

And pressed it to her head, pulling it back as if she had shot.

"Poow!"

Laughing to herself, she looked at you again and continued talking.

"Best feeling in the world, kid."

After looking at her for a few seconds, your eyes drifted to the wall and you saw her picture.

A wanted poster for Jinx.

Jinx.

When you realized the woman in front of you was Jinx, excitement filled your inside.

"Yep, that's me."

She rolled her eyes and looked away from there. As she stood up, she continued talking, picked up your hat from the ground, and shoved it onto your head.

"You ever need to curse a sibling or a family, or a society... my kard."

After getting up from the ground and saying these to you, she pointed to the poster and continued walking. While looking at her with one hand raised in the air, you were indecisive about whether to follow her or not.

You looked at the movement behind you, and one of those men tried to get up but failed.

Looking back at Jinx, you saw that she pulled her hood over her head. You quickly stood up, ran after her, and when you dropped your hat, you took it back and continued again.

This woman, called crazy, had managed to enter your heart.

How ironic, right? She felt realer, more sincere than the people called your family.

That's why you had fallen for her, tagging along behind her.

And a voice inside you told you that you wouldn't regret it.

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Romantic Yandere Batfam x Fox!Reader

Foxes are cunning, intelligent, and hunters.

But when surrounded by wolves, it is impossible for them not to become prey.

By the time Y/N realizes this, it is already too late.

TW!

Animal hybrid reader, yandere, violence, obsession, confinement, non-consensual touching (probably not sexual, I'm not really sure about sexual assault from the Batfam), non-consensual drugging, victim blaming, maybe Stockholm syndrome, panic attacks, dark Batfam, reader has orange hair, violence towards animals (more in the form of a collar/leash, no hitting).

Sm: I know, I already have an ongoing series I'm writing and another one I need to write, but I'm going to write this one too. Once my current series is finished, or at least has made a lot of progress, I'll write chapters for my Sally Face!reader series and this one.

First of all, the reader's hair is orange, I'm obsessed with orange foxes and I thought it would be so cute for the reader to have naturally orange hair. But you can imagine them however you like.

The reader's gender is unspecified.

As for the romance part, when the reader turns completely into a fox, there won't be any romantic attraction between them. It will only be when they are human or in their human-fox hybrid form. Yes, yanderes are never normal, but still, I don't think I could ever write animal abuse. Honestly, even writing about violence makes me feel bad.

Please don't spread hate, I do not support these behaviors. Just think of this as a psychological series.

Now, I'm not sure if Bruce should be romantic because his age is too high and the reader goes to the same university as Tim. So he might be platonic. Damian's age has been aged up and he's fully an adult.

This might feel weird, but I really wanted to write it. Please don't hate me 😭

If you want to be added to the tag list, leave a comment and please feel free to ask questions.

English isn't my native language, so there might be mistakesr.

Platonic Yandere Batfam x GN!Reader

sm: They say children must be innocent.Kind, obedient, submissive, and silent.

If they are obedient, they are good; they cannot make too much noise.

They become puppets of monsters and no one says stop to this.

When you steal a child's soul, what is left in their hands?

Tw: Violence, rape, child abuse, yandere behavior, murder, suicidal thoughts, non-consensual drug use, gender-neutral reader, emotional numbness of the character, no comfort, forced confinement, ensest

Songs used: Mitski - Class of 2013, KORN - Daddy

a/n: English is not my native language and there might be mistakes, I'm sorry.

This writing took a lot of effort from me.

First of all, I do not support or romanticize anything in this fiction. I was also raped. If you are easily triggered or underage, please do not read.

If you have been through these things, you are not alone, and if you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me or get professional help. Your health is important.

Likes, comments, and reposts make me very happy 🩷⭐️

Mom, I'm tired.

Tears stream endlessly from your eyes as you gaze at your hands, stained with blood and scarred with wounds. You stand there barefoot, unconcerned, while the ground is littered with shards of glass.

Because when you feel that physical pain, it's nothing but trash compared to those ugly, twisted, raw emotions.

You're still so young, so small, and you can't begin to fathom how you ended up here. All you want is to sink into your mother's embrace, and for her to lift the weight of forgiveness onto her shoulders. But she looks at you as if you were nothing more than a bug to be swept away from under her feet.

You were six years old that day, when your mother's heart decided to move on.

Your mother had finally found her financial freedom and left your father. When you first heard the news, your heart soared with joy. You thought your days with your father were over, a chapter closed because you hated him.

You overheard it during a chat with a friend, and if you hadn't caught the rest, you would have rushed to your mother with open arms, bursting with joy.

Can I stay at your place tonight?

“(Y/N)? Of course, they'll stay with their father. I can't bear to look at they anymore. I know it's not they fault, but every time I see they face, my mind flashes back to that night when that man raped me. How could I bring myself to tell they that they the fruit of that horrific night?"

Your feet could no longer carry the weight of your body. Tears streamed endlessly from your eyes, and your screams echoed through the house, making it tremble. When your mother came to you, you wrapped your arms around her feet, pleading with all your heart.

Mom, is it alright?

“Please, Mom, don't leave me alone with Dad! Take me with you! I'm so sorry, I swear I won't be a burden! I'll do everything you say, and I'll even take care of myself! Just don't leave me with him! Please... I'm begging you!"

What if I stay for a year or two?

You begged until your voice faded away.

You were born from a rape. Your father raped your mother. You couldn't bear it. How could you? You were only six years old. It was a devastating blow for an adult, but for a child so young, it was a world-shattering, tenfold shock.

Your mother soothed you with whispers, made promises she couldn't keep, and while you slept, she packed her bags and vanished. Because you were nothing to her, just a problem to be solved. The next day, when you realized this, you went wild, wreaking havoc everywhere. The thought of your father coming home that evening was the last thing on your mind. Shards of glass scattered like shattered dreams, and you, leaning against the wall, your gaze lost in the ground.

Mom, I'll be quiet.

Then the door swung open, and heels clicked in. Your mother swept in, her presence radiating with grace, and her gaze swept the room, taking it all in. Your mother was a woman of unwavering dignity, always rising above the pain she endured.

Your head shot up, and without a second thought, you dashed toward her, barefoot, not even noticing the blood trickling from your feet.It would be just to find rest at night.

“I knew it, I knew it! You didn't leave me, did you, Mom? You couldn't possibly leave me behind, could you? Please tell me you haven't left me behind, that you'll take me with you!"

And I'll leave once I figure it out,

Amid your sobs, a smile bloomed, and with hope shining in your eyes, you gazed upon her. Your hands clutched at his hem, and you crumbled under the weight of his cold, emotionless gaze.

How can I pay for my own life too?

“Could you please shed that selfishness, just a little bit? You're just as helpless as your father. I can't believe you're really my child. You're nothing but a problem.”

Mom, could you wash my back, please?

After those words, it's no exaggeration to say the world collapsed around you—you were utterly devastated. Your mother flung you to the ground, against the windows, as if you were nothing more than trash to be thrown away. As blood spilled across your bodies, your mother placed a document on the table and vanished.

Just this once, and then we can let it all go.

Your screams echoed through the neighborhood, shattering like delicate porcelain.

Your mother couldn't have left you, could she? How could that angel-hearted, gentle, beautiful woman—whose eyes sparkled with a love you later realized wasn't real—say those words to you and then vanish? No, no, she most certainly DID NOT LEAVE. She couldn't leave; she couldn't abandon her precious child. SHE JUST COULDN'T.

She couldn't bear to leave you alone with that monster.

And I'll let go of what I've been chasing,

After your mother left, you remained there, lying still, as if time had stopped. Your whole world vanished, leaving you to face death alone. All you wanted was to follow him, to stay by his side, and to keep your father far away. Were you truly that selfish? Your mother endured so much pain, putting up with that vile man because of you, and now you dare be angry with her for leaving you? My God... How utterly selfish you are. You must gather your strength and blossom into the noble child your mother envisioned.

For the other girls (people) to chase after.

But you can't be. Your mother wants you to grow; you're still a child. So, that's who you are, isn't it...?

Mom, am I still young at heart?

Reality slipped away, and you were lost in dreams, oblivious to the passing of time. This was the moment you first let your mind drift, floating away from reality.

Can I let my dreams dance a little longer, just for a few more months?

And your father came home.

You were still in the same place, lost in yourself and shut off in your own fantasy world. You felt nothing as your father yelled at you, kicked you, hit you, and threw you around. Your face was blank and emotionless. You were six years old the first time you became detached and felt no pain.

The pain you endured the next day didn’t help much, but it was manageable.

Your father became even harsher.

“You good-for-nothing brat! You should never have been born!”

The insults grew even harsher. You remained silent; you didn’t speak, because you knew that staying silent was the only way to survive.

Some nights you couldn’t sleep; you’d stare into the void and imagine your mother taking you away. It was an impossible dream.

The next day, your father would take his anger out on you again, smashing things and beating you until you were unrecognizable.

You didn’t know why you were still alive; there was nothing worth living for, but you didn’t have the courage to die either. Your father would kill you eventually anyway.

A year like this passed, and your faith in your mother faded.When you turned seven, you experienced your second withdrawal.It was also the first time you began to hate your own body.

This time, your father had drunk more than ever before; even though you tried to stay away from him, he constantly demanded more and more from you. Sometimes you wondered whether you should smash whatever was in your hand over his head.

As things continued this way, suddenly everything fell apart.

“Little child looking so pretty.”

He grabbed you and sat you on his lap, and continued without paying any attention to your pleas. It was impossible not to remember how much it hurt. The disgusting words coming out of his mouth made you want to vomit. The things he did to your body were so repulsive in that moment that you wished God would take your life.

“Come out and play.”

You wished your father had killed you long ago.

“I’ll be your daddy.”

You struggled as tears streamed down your cheeks, begging him to let you go.

“Innocent child, looking so sweet.”

His laughter echoed through the room—repulsive and ugly. He was mocking you, taking pleasure in your pain.

“I rape in my eyes, and on your flesh I'll eat.”

What have you done to deserve this? You’re just a CHILD.

For God’s sake, he was your father.

YOUR OWN FATHER.

How could he rape you?

HOW COULD HE RAPE HIS OWN CHILD?

YOU RAPED, I FEEL DIRTY.

You wanted to scream but you were in shock; you couldn’t even move.

It hurt as a child.

Your mind was shattered; after a while, you felt as though you weren’t even in your own body.

Tied down, “that’s a good boy.”

When your father finally fell asleep, you grabbed your torn clothes and crawled into the room. It took you a long time to do this; it took a while for you to come to your senses.

And fuck your own child.

And it hurt so much. God is my witness, it would have hurt less if you’d died in a fire. I wish your father had died today.

I scream, no one hears me.

You wanted your mother. At least she would have stopped it, wouldn’t she?

It hurt; I’m not a liar.

Would your mother have believed you? She had to believe you. She had to.

My God, I saw you watching.

Who were you trying to fool? He’d watch and then leave. Your mother had given up on you.

MOMMY, WHY? Your own child.

I wonder if things would have been different if you hadn’t been born in Gotham? Was this city’s curse affecting you?

That was the day you tried to commit suicide but failed.

When you turned eight, you experienced your third episode of isolation.

It was also the time when you became completely numb.

Your life was miserable and awful; you tried to kill yourself countless times, but God—if He exists—seemed to hate you. Or perhaps He didn’t even notice you existed.

Your father ran out of money and started making you work. Your small body was strained, in pain, and on the verge of fainting. You still couldn’t understand how you were still alive. You should have died long ago.

Whenever your father drank, he would continue to sexually abuse you, and this had pushed you to your breaking point.

You couldn’t earn enough money, and most of it went toward that monster’s booze. If you didn’t work, he’d become even more ruthless—he wouldn’t let you leave the house and would literally chain you up.

When your birthday came around, you thought about secretly buying a simple cake and celebrating on your own. Yes, life was terrible, and you cursed the day you were born, but you figured you at least deserved a cake.

When you walked into the house, there was another man standing next to your father; he was old, too, and he was staring at you with a repulsive look in his eyes.

“What a sweet little child.”

As fear coursed through your veins, you tried to rush into another room, but your father grabbed you by the arm and shoved you in front of the man.

No, no, please, not today. NOT TODAY!

You screamed, struggled, and tried to run away. It had finally sunk in.

You didn’t even know how you’d managed to hold on this long; you were on the verge of losing your mind, and the thin thread had snapped.

That scumbag dragged you into a room and raped you. Something inside your mind snapped, and you just stared at the ceiling. You barely even blinked.

You didn’t move, you didn’t make a sound; even as your eyes turned bloodshot, you kept staring. Your senses died, your emotions vanished, and you had become a monster.

What would a monster do?

It would destroy everything around it.

The man must have been startled by the situation, because he stopped and backed away.

“You freak of a kid, you ruined my whole mood.”

When he still didn’t react, he collapsed onto the floor next to you. You stayed there until he fell asleep; as soon as you heard him snoring, your body automatically stood up and made its way to your makeshift kitchen.

Grabbing one of the kitchen knives and with a smirk on your face, you made your way to where the man was sleeping.

First this scumbag, then the other creature.

They won’t be able to hurt you anymore.

You raised your knife and plunged it into his throat without a second thought. He didn’t even have time to scream. With blood covering you from head to toe, you walked straight to your father’s room without wasting a moment.

If you didn’t finish the job in one stroke, you wouldn’t be able to do it again.

After raising the bloodied knife and slitting his throat as well, you gouged out his eye. After placing his eye in his mouth, you walked slowly out of the house. You didn’t care if anyone saw you. Living in Gotham meant dealing with things like this.

You kept walking down the streets, stepped into the crowd, and passed through them with an expressionless face, ignoring the fearful stares of the people around you. You still had the knife in your hand, and even when someone tried to stop you, you glared at them menacingly. They called the police, but you were faster.

This time, you were going to end your life. You were going to do it by the side of the road, just as you deserved.

After all, kids like you deserved this.

You came across a few people fighting in a side street. Two of them were wearing strange costumes, and one looked like a criminal.

Just like you.You watched; you had nothing left to fear.

After the people in costumes caught the criminal, one of them noticed you. You weren’t afraid; you didn’t react. If they were going to kill you, you didn’t care. You’d rather have killed yourself, but you weren’t really in a state to care.

You dropped the knife on the ground and stared at them with empty, lifeless eyes. One was wearing a helmet; the other was wearing a mask.

The one wearing the mask crouched down to your height.

“Why are you covered in blood?”

He seemed to be trying to be gentle. You found it meaningless and thought it was ridiculous for him to feel sorry for you.

You were a murderer, you were filthy, you were repulsive, and you had now turned into an emotionless monster.

Also, why do these people care about a child covered in blood and holding a knife?

"I killed my dad and his friend."

Everything froze. It really froze. They didn’t move; they just stared at you.

They were supposed to kill you. Right?

Something unexpected happened. The man in the helmet took off his helmet and approached you.

You couldn’t see his eyes; even though he was quite muscular and heavily built, he didn’t look threatening. The streak of white in his black hair was striking.

As he crouched down beside you, he brought his hand to your cheek and simply touched it.

“Why don’t you come with us and tell us what happened?”

Jason’s POV

He couldn’t even begin to describe the pain that pierced his heart the moment he first noticed you. You were covered in blood, holding a knife, and your eyes were emotionless. But Jason didn’t see a psychopath or a killer in you.

He saw himself in you.

He had grown up under harsh conditions, had been killed, and was now killing people himself. He had no idea why you were doing it, but he could sense the horror of what you’d been through.

He was furious at everything that could have turned a child into this.

And you looked so vulnerable.

Yes, you may have killed someone—your own father, no less—and you may have the eyes of a psychopath, but you’re still a child, and you’re so weak.

For God’s sake, why are you so weak?Jason wanted to cry. He really wanted to cry.

When he crouched down beside you and spoke, you showed emotion on your face for the first time. Your eyes widened, and you flinched.

Jason studied your movements as his hand hung in the air.

“Aren’t you going to kill me?”

Both Dick and Jason froze at the same moment.

Kill? You?

What...?

What must you have gone through to feel the need to say that?

All Jason wants right now is to wrap his arms around you and keep you safe.

He was certain Dick felt something similar. He could see his hands twitching.

“Why would we do something like that?”

You furrowed your brows at what came out of Dick’s mouth.

“Because I killed someone?”

Jason let out a deep sigh and stood up. He was trying to look as gentle as possible toward you.

“Let’s not talk about this here.”

Dick’s voice cut through the silence, and he moved toward you. At that, you started running—if they weren’t going to kill you, you had no business with them. You couldn’t go on living.

Jason was taken aback at first, but he came after you without wasting any time. Your frail, small body was quite slow; you were staggering as you moved. Dick was right behind him.

Jason quickly caught up to you, grabbed your arm, and lifted you into the air with his other hand. You struggled, kicking out and screaming as he hoisted you onto his shoulder. Even when you sank your teeth into him, it didn’t help.

“Let me go, damn it!"

Your screams were ignored; Dick was trying to calm you down. You growled back at him.

“Listen, kid, struggling won’t do you any good. You’re coming with us either way.”

It really didn’t work.You didn’t know what you’d gotten yourself into, but you were furious. The only emotion you could feel was anger.“Either kill me or let me go!”

You screamed as you walked toward a car, not caring about the stares of the people around you.

Jason sighed deeply and put you in the Batmobile. Even though he wasn’t too fond of Bruce, he had no choice but to trust him on this matter

Dick’s POV

He looked at your sleeping little body.

You hadn’t calmed down; you’d thrown everything you could find in the cave at them and even hurt yourself. They had no other choice—they had to give you a sedative.

Dick’s heart ached; he wanted to hold you and wrap you in a big embrace. While changing your clothes, he’d seen the marks on your body.Every bruise, cigarette burn, and injury tore at his heart.

But what devastated him the most...were the signs that you’d been raped.

The whole family was in shock, struggling to cope with the boundaries of rage and madness.

Of course, they’d dealt with cases like this before, and you weren’t all that different. But the fact that you’d been raped by your father triggered something in them.

You were just a little kid—how could you have been subjected to such abuse by the person you should have trusted most? Where was your mother?

Dick wanted to make those who did this to you suffer worse than death.Your apathy toward life, your fragility, and your anger triggered something in him.

He saw how Jason was trembling. How much you two resembled each other. Both of you had been let down by your fathers.

Dick hated this situation. While you were sleeping, he never left you alone for a single moment—not even with Cass and Jason. They knew you weren’t much different from the other victims, but they couldn’t stop it.

You were so fragile, you’d suffered so much. For God’s sake… you were only eight years old.

Tim was trying to look into your case, but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Damian couldn’t calm his nerves and had slammed the door, heading off to train

.Bruce, on the other hand, had broken down. How could they dare to take a child’s innocence, defile him, and steal his very sense of self? The instinct to protect and care for you never wavered.

For the first time, Steph wasn’t smiling or making jokes. She couldn’t. You were in such a terrible state. Even if you didn’t say a word, it was clear from your body language.

Duke, meanwhile, had locked himself in the bathroom because of nausea. He knew you saw yourself as a monster, and he understood that too. He despised himself because of his powers, and he couldn’t bear that you, too, despised yourself for different reasons.

Barbara was also helping Tim and felt immense anger toward those who had done this to you. She just wanted to protect you.

Cass, meanwhile, was holding your hand and wouldn’t let go. He was looking at you with eyes full of pain. Perhaps he was the second person—after Jason—who understood you the most.

He swears he’ll protect you forever.

Dick is watching all of this and feels as if he’s about to die.

If only he could take all your pain upon himself. He wishes for this with all his heart. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of this.Hours pass, and you finally wake up. Cass jumps to her feet and continues to hold your hand, as if you’ll disappear the moment she lets go.

At first, you don’t understand what’s happening.

Where were you?

Y/N POV

When you opened your eyes, you weren’t expecting to see a ceiling, nor were you expecting something to be holding your hand.

You sit up quickly—or rather, slowly—and pull your hand away. You didn’t feel fear; you couldn’t even feel any emotion other than anger anymore.

You look at the people around you: the two men who brought you here and the woman who was holding your hand earlier.

You glare at them menacingly. Cass reaches out to touch you, and you flinch away. You don’t like the way she’s looking at you.

She’s looking at you as if you were worth protecting, worth loving, and worthy of life.

You don’t. You’re a freak who shouldn’t be alive.

Right?

“Calm down, little bird.”

The man in blue is approaching you. Now you can see his eyes. He has a gentle gaze, and it makes your stomach churn.

Because he’ll be just like the others. First he’ll treat you nicely, then he’ll hit you.

That’s how people are.

Someone enters the room. He looks older and is approaching you. Jason growls and acts as if he wants to stop him.

He comes over and crouches down next to you, and you burrow into the headboard.“How are you?”You don’t answer.

You don’t understand who this older person or the others are. The woman stubbornly wants to make contact with you; she acts as if she’ll die if she can’t.

With a sudden movement, you leap out of bed and run toward the door. Yes, it’s an irrational move, but you don’t care. You can’t stand these people any longer. You run as fast as you can, not even caring if you fall down the stairs.

When someone grabs your arm to stop you, a disgusting, animalistic sound escapes your mouth, and despite the person’s tight grip, you struggle to break free.

“You’re going to hurt yourself—stop it already!”

You didn’t stop. Damian’s grip never loosened, and his angry voice filled your ears. The others gathered around you as well.

An old man who looked like a servant approached you with a syringe in his hand. You growled at him and bared your teeth. He didn’t seem fazed.

Even as you tried to push the needle away with your free hand, feeling the pain in your neck, the burly, elderly man—Bruce—stopped you. You struggled until your strength gave out, and as you sank into darkness, you didn’t understand what you were falling into.

Will I never find peace?

You spent the following days strapped to the bed, trying not to answer the questions people asked you. You still couldn’t feel anything—there was only a relentless rage, and even that was under control. You couldn’t go a single minute without a sedative.You learned their names.

Dick was too clingy; he actually respected you, but he tended to get too physically close.

Jason, on the other hand, usually came in through the window of the room you were in and would just sit by your side, occasionally talking or reading a book. Sometimes he’d read to you, but when he realized you didn’t want him to, he’d fall silent.

Cass, on the other hand, was constantly either holding your hand or looking at you with gentle eyes—you didn’t trust him, you didn’t trust any of them—and he wouldn’t leave your side unless he absolutely had to.

Bruce was the most interesting one. He was constantly trying to engage with you and trying to drill into your mind that killing someone wasn’t normal. You didn’t listen to him. How much of what you’d been through had he actually experienced to be talking like that? Later, you learned that he and his family were outlaws, and you hated that.

Tim took an analytical approach with you; he enjoyed studying you and asked questions. He kept asking until you answered. Sometimes he’d make physical contact with you and sleep by your side. Because of your handcuffs, you couldn’t hurt him, and he took advantage of that.

Damian, along with Titus, would just stay with you, minding his own business or watching you. Titus would lie on top of you. The only living creatures you could tolerate in this house were Titus and a cat named Alfred. You saw yourself in the animals—wild, mistreated creatures. And you’d never harbored any ill will toward them.

You used to have a dog, too, until your father ruined everything. You’d play, sleep, and feed him on the street. He protected you. That’s why you’ve always had a soft spot for dogs, and Damian had noticed that, too.

Steph, on the other hand, wanted to watch movies with you and was trying to get closer to you. She had a playful personality, but you never laughed at her jokes, and that upset her.

Barbara, on the other hand, would come over to you in her wheelchair, talk to you, or just watch you. You ignored her.

Every time Duke stopped by, he’d tell you about his day and talk about how he’d play video games with you once you were free of these handcuffs.

Alfred, meanwhile, was concerned about your health and was making you eat—even if you resisted.

Your days passed like this, and your resistance was gradually waning. Because you were tired of the restraints and thought that if you cooperated, they would set you free. Maybe you could escape.You were wrong.

Once the restraints were removed, they became even more clingy. They were even trying to carry you around.

“Come on, you can choose what we’re going to do! I don’t even understand why you’re trying to get away from us.”

You ignored Tim’s pleas.

What was it about you that had made them so obsessed? At first, you were just a child they were worried about—yes, some of them paid you extra attention and doted on you, but that was all. Now they’re acting as if they literally can’t live without you

.All you wanted was peace, but you couldn’t even have that.

Maybe you should have killed yourself in that house?

You could never understand Bruce. There was a “no killing” rule, but you’d broken it. What’s more, you’d even intended to kill them.Jason was the same way, but you were a stranger.

“Can’t you just leave me alone? I really don’t understand what you see in me. I’ll never love you, and I’ll find a way to leave.”

At that, they all fell silent. The way they looked at you was strange. When you tried to brush it off and walk away, Jason grabbed your arm and pulled you against his chest.

“Even if you leave, we’ll find you, so don’t push your luck.”

Those words infuriated you, so you wrenched your arm free and ran to your room. You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t even attempt to kill yourself because they’d stop you immediately, and you’d end up back in your handcuffs.

You decided to explore the mansion. Maybe you could find a way out?

And you did.

A window. You could open it. You knew Tim or Barbara were watching you right now, but you could escape before they caught up to you.You jumped out the window, and even though you sprained your arm as you landed on the grass, you didn’t care. That was the least of your worries.

You ran until you found an exit, ran without looking back, and found a place to hide. There was nothing nearby you could use to kill yourself. You didn’t want to live anymore, and you were determined.

Tomorrow you’ll find a high place or a sharp object and end it all.

You curled up on the ground and fell asleep; you didn’t even care about the cold. You didn’t care if your new clothes got dirty, either.When you woke up the next morning, you were on the verge of losing your mind.

A cave, a cage made of glass, and only a few essentials. You screamed, you had a breakdown, but they still wouldn’t let you out.

“You’ll stay here until you agree to live here and we’re sure you won’t run away.”

Hearing Bruce’s voice, you showed an emotion other than anger for the first time.

You cried.

The family was so surprised that they all just watched you for a few minutes.

Then they all climbed into your cage to calm you down.

You were crying because you realized it.

You would never escape from here, you would never die, and you would live a life as if you were part of this obsessive family.

You were crying because you had gone from one cage to another.

You were crying because you would never be in control of your own life.

Not even your death belonged to you.

You were just a puppet brought into this world to make others happy.

I’ll never have a life of my own, will I?

Am I that bad that I deserve this?