Batboys x Reader

Old Love Shall Never Die (Damian Wayne x Reader)

Hi! Doing a new thing with the switching of Pov's as I think it looks better (Maybe more professional idk). This involves prompt 13 (This is supposed to be serious! Why are you wearing that ridiculous hat?) and 20 (For once, can you do what you are told?) requested by @posiedens_daughter

I hope you enjoy!

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Damian Wayne POV

The girl almost belongs, but not quite. She's smiling in that same way mother does when she greets someone she plans to kill, not scared but not relaxed enough for a genuine smile. Something is wrong with the way she moves about the room, every movement she makes seem to be calculated and with solid intent. I watch her let out a slow controlled breath as if she wanted to loosen her body movements. She gave her shoulders a wiggle and lolled her head in a circle, let her stride slacken to a more casual pace. It is a decent effort, enough to fool the casual observer, but for the onlooker with a keen eye such as myself, she is a walking advert for tension. Her eyes move with an alertness that could only come from training and experience, she observes each person approaching as if they are about to attack. There is something about this girl, she's familiar. The worst thing about this feeling is that no matter how hard I try, I cannot call to memory my affiliations with this girl. I begin to move towards my brothers to alert them of this suspicious woman.

(Y/N) POV

If you told ten-year-old me that I would be an assassin when I grew up she wouldn't believe you, I mean she's ten and innocent, why would she believe you? It took some time before I was certain this was the right choice for me. I was never cruel or coldhearted but compassionate and warmhearted, giving love to everyone who would take it. But living in Gotham changes a girl, you know. No one looked after anyone but their blood except for those vigilantes. I tried that for a while too, I made my costume and got all the gadgets, hell I even trained with the best of the best. But it was never quite good enough, no one trusted me... even the ones I saved. So I turned to the darker path set out for me, I'm basically a glorified secretary but instead of dispatching invoices and emails I dispatch people to whatever came after this life. I guide them to their final destination because no one else has the guts too. Everyone has to die sometime, and I consider my way a good way to go. No illness, no drawn-out goodbyes, well, unless they're annoying or a criminal. But that's different. They're happy and oblivious one second and gone the next. Simple. Convenient. Painless.

I adjust the bust-line of my ball gown and smooth my (H/C) hair back, removing the hair-pin vile of poison. In seconds the contents are swirled in bourbon and my smile is truly vivacious as I hand it to my victim, Bruce Wayne. He gazes at me for a moment, something wary behind his blue eyes. He tilts his cup high, drinking the entire thing in one swig, and wiped the remaining liquid from the bottom of his lips. In those few final seconds, he is quite boyish and I can see everything his mother must have loved about him, a spirit that must have attracted friends and lovers in equal measure. It quickly fades as he begins coughing, and coughing.

I look around the room and hear a few people gasp once they notice the man on the floor and the red liquid seeping from his lips. Three men and his butler immediately take action, two hoisting Mr Wayne on their shoulders while the other two follow in pursuit. Unknowing to them that he's already dead. They don't know I did this but there is a part of me which wants them to know. I want them to know that a young woman is capable of destruction such as this. They underestimate women like me but there's always a little fun in that. For now, I'll play the part they expect me to. I become the part, not another version of myself, but truly live it as a separate person. It's the only way to be authentic, don't you think? I, unfortunately, have to feel an emotion I do not crave. But this is the only way to give a believable performance. I've been told that if I hadn't chosen to live this life I could've been an actress. It's always nice to know I have other options if this career falls through.