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sitepathos · 14 days ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 15: The End (B)

As the needle comes ever so closer to your neck, your time at the manor flashes before your eyes; the loneliness, the despair, the sadness, the anger, all the feelings that built up over the years to the point that there were days where it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

No, you refuse to go back to that. You won’t let these assholes win. You waited for years to return to Goodsprings and when you’ve finally gotten used to truly living, they come back into your life.

You let out a massive scream as you channel what strength you have in your current state, breaking out of your icy enclosure, sending ice chunks flying on all directions. Bruce falls on his back directly in front of you and you take advantage of it, slamming your foot down on his chest so he can’t get up.

“Time’s up, Mr. Wayne,” you say as you summon a blade and hold it up to strike. “When you get to hell, tell your parents and Joker I said hi.”

Before you can deliver the strike, you feel something jab into the back of your neck. You reach back and pull at the thing you feel sticking out of the nape of your neck to find out it’s the needle Bruce had in his hand.

How did—

You turn around to see Tim standing behind you, staring at you as if expecting something to happen.

The anger you felt a moment ago is now back in full force and you grab Tim by the throat and hold him up, readying your blade to stab him in his wretched black heart.

“Hope you enjoyed that, you little freak,” you hiss, venom dripping from your every word. “Because it’s the deepest you’ll ever be in another person—“

All of a sudden, you feel as if your body’s on fire, causing you to drop Tim and scream and flail around in pain.

“What’s happening to me,” you gasp as you fall to your knees.

(We are being destroyed,) the Megamycete responds, clearly just in much pain as you. (That cure of theirs is tearing us apart piece by piece!)

Just then, your mold armor begins to crack and fall apart, exposing your actual body. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the Waynes gather together from a distance, watching you writhing in pain, but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment as you can feel your cells begin to disintegrate and your mind begin to segment and wrinkle out of existence.

“No,” you cry out as you feel the Megamycete begin to fade from you. “No, you can’t die! Please, don’t leave me!”

(We are sorry, Y/N,) the Megamycete answers back, its voice barely audible. (We cannot stop what has been set in motion. It would seem this is the end for us. Know that we have enjoyed every moment of our bonding and would not change a single moment. We could not have asked for a better host. Or a better friend. We love—)

It’s then you feel the Megamycete fade away from both your body and your mind, leaving you feeling like your practically swimming in your body due to the empty feeling you have.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, your mind is even worse; since you became the Megamycete’s host, you always felt it in the back of your head, even when you slept; at first, it was weird always having a presence in the back of your mind twenty-four seven, but you came to appreciate it. You spent years being and now you always had a friend at your side and when you needed someone, the Megamycete was there on your shoulder, whispering.

Now, you’re alone in your head and the quietness is so deafening you feel like you’re about to go insane.

“Why,” you cry out as tears begin to pour from your eyes. “I was finally happy and you had to come and ruin everything. Are you people that miserable that you can’t stand it when someone else is happy?”

“That thing was poisoning you, Y/N,” Bruce answers as he and his bastards approach you. “We had to get it out of you. Now, it’s time to come home. I promise things will be different this time.”

Bruce’s words piss you off that you pounce, ready to punch the bastard in his face, but he quickly grabs your arm before you could land the hit. You pull hard to free your arm and when you do, you watch as your arm begins to crack and break off form the rest of your body, causing you to fall back to the ground.

You look up to see Bruce and the others staring in horror at your now detached arm as it suddenly calcifies and crumbles like it were a stale cookie and not your limb.

It seems that without the Megamycete, your body’s beginning to fall apart. Even now, you can feel parts of your body begin to deteriorate and the knowledge you once had is fading from your mind.

“I don’t care what it takes,” you growl as the dome around you begins to collapse and the tower starts to shake. “I don’t care how long it takes, I will find a way to kill you all. You’ll all suffer every agony and every violation before suffering the worst death I can think of.”

“What’s happening,” Bruce asks as he braces from a particularly strong shake.

“The Megamycete took out the support struts holding up the upper levels,” Tim explains as he types away at his wrist-mounted computer. “Its roots were the only thing holding the tops floors, and with it gone…”

Just then, the roof begins to crack and large sections of it fall into the tower. You watch as the roof you’re sitting on cracks and you fall with into the tower.

You feel the last of your energy leave your body and your eyes begin to close, the last thing you see before losing consciousness is Bruce leaping in after you.

You open your eyes once you wake up and once again curse that you now have to deal with another day in this hellhole you call your life.

It’s been a month since that night at the top of Wayne Tower.

A month since you lost the best friend you ever had.

A month since you were dragged back to Wayne Manor and locked away in this prison cell they call your room.

You look around the room they put together for you after Alfred reminded them of your existence: the California king sized bed you’re in draped in expensive Egyptian cotton sheets with equally expensive pillows lining the head of it, the hundred inch flatscreen TV mounted on the wall in front of your bed still playing some episode from an anime Tim thought you’d like, an oak desk with a highly modified gaming laptop Tim brought in and your Momma’s gold pen on a fancy pen stand Bruce bought, a massive bookshelf filled with various manga, books, and other odds and ends and a plush chair sitting in the corner next to it that’s big enough to fit two people, and on your walls are posters of various games and anime you like with a couple pictures scattered here and there, with your favorite being on old picture of you and your Momma at the fall festival and your least favorite being a “family” photo of you surrounded by the Waynes.

Years ago, you would’ve killed to have a room like this (minus the countless cameras and microphones you know are in here) while you were stying here instead of the sad closet you were given when you first moved in.

Now, however? This room is a cage, no matter how much they pretty it up.

You think about your house in Goodsprings and the overwhelming feeling of loss and sorrow, a feeling you’re on a first name basis with these days, fills you.

The death of the Megamycete didn’t just affect the roots in Gotham, it also had an affect on the root in Goodsprings; the roots surrounded your house decayed when the Megamycete died, leading to your house collapsing and sinking into the ground, destroying your childhood home. That’s how they managed to fool the rest of the world that you were back here on your own volition: the story they managed to trick the public with is that you invited them to your house to reconcile your differences when your house collapsed, severely injuring you and they brought you back to Wayne Manor for you to get the best treatment Bruce’s money could afford and recover. And of course, you’re in no condition to make any sort of appearance, so that’s why no one outside your “family” has laid eyes on you.

Bruce said they salvaged everything they could, which consisted of your baby books, photo albums, and everything that belonged to your Momma, but everything else was destroyed (although you suspect that Bruce only wanted you to have things that he and his bastards gave you).

You wish you could cry, but after all the tears you’ve shed over the span of your lifetime, your tear ducts have finally run dry. You have no more tears to shed.

And it’s not just your tear ducts that are ruined. You look down at your lower body under your sheets and see the stumps that once held your legs and grimace at the loss.

Your body suffered massive damage thanks to the death of the Megamycete, losing your right arm, both your legs, and your left eye, leaving the left side of your face blank with a few scars here and there; you also have cracks of various shapes and sizes up and down your body, making you look like one of those antique porcelain dolls that’s decades old and the slightest touch could make it crumble to dust. You’ve gone from being in the best shape of your life to being a bedridden mass with a barely working left arm and a right eye that you can barely see out of.

Your mind isn’t in the best shape either; aside from the obvious mental issues, you’re still struggling to cope with the loss of knowledge from countless people over the ages. There’s times where you can recall something, like how a dancer did ballet in the 1800s or the memories of a man as he left to fight in WW2, but you quickly lose it.

A knock at the door brings you out of your depressing thoughts and roll your eye.

Time for another day of bullshit.

“Good morning, Master Y/N,” Alfred says as he enters, carrying a tray, and turns on the lights, making you wince a bit at the new brightened room. “I trust you slept well?”

You don’t respond and Alfred, the professional that he is, doesn’t comment on it; instead, he places the tray on the desk and goes about his morning routine.

“Your breakfast shake,” he states as he holds up the glass with a straw sticking out of it. “Unless you wish to dine with the rest of the family this morning?”

You say nothing and he holds the glass up to your mouth with the straw facing you and you turn your head, not wanting to accept anything from him.

“Please drink it, Master Y/N,” he pleads as he moves the glass to follow your mouth. “If you don’t, your father will go back to the feeding tube.”

You wince a bit at the memory of Bruce force feeding you the first week you were dragged back here when you refused to eat at the dinner table; thankfully, Alfred was able to convince him to switch over to blended shakes that he alone feeds you in your room, claiming you were more receptive to eating the shakes and not surrounded by him and the others.

You give in as you do every morning. You know you’ll always end up doing as he wants, but you have very little power these days and these little moments of rebellion are all you have to fight back. Even if it’s only for a bit.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he says as you quietly sip your breakfast. Once you’re done he wipes your face with a cloth napkin. “Now, time for your medicine.”

He spends the next twenty minutes giving you a battery of pills, syrups, and shots that Bruce created to help your body cope without the Megamycete before taking your nightclothes off and putting on a t-shirt and some mesh shorts. There’s nothing Bruce can do to restore what you’ve lost (and you highly doubt he would of he could), but the drugs he’s made should stop what’s left of your body from decaying and you really don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

As he tidies up and places everything back on the trey, the door opens, revealing Bruce.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he says as he enters your “room,” the smile on his face so sincere that it makes you want to punch his teeth in. He bends down by your bed so he can be level with you. “How’re you feeling today, baby?”

Like with Alfred, you don’t respond to him and turn your head so you don’t have to see him.

“Still not feeling up to talking? That’s ok, your siblings and I can do all the talking today, too.”

Ever since you were dragged back here and placed in this room, you haven’t uttered a word. Sure, you could’ve shouted, threatened, and swore at them whenever they visit you, but when you realized that you’re a shell of your former self and this is your new life, you resigned yourself to this fate. Plus, you’ve said all you have to say and you know the Waynes all know how you feel about them by now. There’s nothing you can say to any of them that will free you of this hell.

“Master Bruce, I thought the rules were quite clear on there only being once person in his room at a time,” Alfred scolds. “And we didn’t make that schedule for show.”

Yeah, they actually made a list of rules and a schedule about coming in your room, going as far as to laminate it and post it next to your door, like you were a fucking zoo attraction and not a prisoner in this godforsaken place.

“I know, I know,” he responds. “But I just couldn’t wait to see him! And you were done anyway, right?”

“Yes, I was,” he relents. “Do you require anything, Master Y/N?” You remain quiet and he takes your silence as no. “Very well. I’ll see you again for lunch.”

And with that, he exits the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone with the man you hate most in the world.

“Do you want to do anything special, Y/N,” he asks as he sits at the foot of your bed. “We can watch TV if you want; whatever you want, just name it and we’ll watch it. Or maybe I can read to you? I know Jason normally does that, but I never got to read to you growing up and I’d like to make up for lost time.”

You remain quiet and turn your head to the right so you don’t have to see him, wishing he’d finally understand you want nothing to do with him and leave you alone.

“I know you can speak, Y/N. Your scans show your vocal cords were intact, so you’re choosing not to talk.” He leans in and turns your head so you’re facing him, but you move your eye so you not looking at him directly. “Please say something. Even if you say you hate me and wish I’d die, let me hear your voice.

Several weeks ago, you would’ve screamed at the top of your lungs that you rue the day he was born and hope he burns in the lowest level of hell, but you’ve said all you have to say to him. You’re tired now.

Plus, this is another instance where you can exercise the little power you have. By remaining silent, you’re not giving him what he wants and that gives you some form of joy, no matter how small it is in the grand scheme of things.

“Alright,” he relents, releasing your chin. “I get it: you don’t wanna talk right now. That’s ok, you’ll talk when you’re ready. Well, I thought we’d watch some TV together.” He moves so that he’s now sitting next to you on the bed and wraps his arm around your shoulders so he can pull you closer to him. “You like that Spirited Away movie, right? I’d like to watch with you.”

You remain silent and he sighs, but pulls up the movie anyway.

Apparently, he’s decided to use his allotted time in their fucked up schedule to do “father-son” things with you, which included watching shows and movies with you, particularly anything they saw you watching frequently in your various streaming services. He does other things to, like talking to you about his parents, going through your photo albums, and carrying you around the house whenever he has to do something outside your room.

You hate every second of it, but the thing he does that you hate most of is him taking care of your bathing. Alfred insisted on doing it himself as he did the same when Bruce was a baby, but the asshole wouldn’t be swayed, claiming the butler was too old to be doing things like that and Bruce missed out on bath times while you were a baby and now that you’re in your current state, he sees an opportunity to make up for lost time.

The only solace is that he does it at nighttime before he and the others go out on patrol, so you have some time to prepare yourself.

You try to watch the movie, wanting to focus only on Chihiro on entering the Spirit World after her parents were turned into pigs, but your eye is too damaged and all your mind can think about is how far you’ve fallen.

At the part at the iconic hallway chase scene, Bruce’s phone rings and he declines the call without even taking it out of his pocket. A few seconds later, it rings again and Bruce declines the call only for it to ring again a few seconds after that. With an irritated sigh, he pulls his phone out and looks at the screen and lets out another irritated sigh.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Bruce says as he pauses the movie and stands up. “It’s Lucius. He wouldn’t be calling unless it were an emergency. I promise I’ll be back as fast as I can.”

And with that, he kisses your forehead and quickly exits your room, leaving you alone.

“I’m with my son, Lucius,” you manage to hear Bruce on the other side of your door. “I gave you a list of times you could call me and I know right now isn’t on there.” A minute of silence while the moon on other line responds. “I don’t give a damn what the board wants. I’m in charge of the company and if I don’t want to go to some arbitrary meeting, I’m not gonna go.”

Another minute of silence.

“Tell Bannister she can make all the threats she wants, nothing’s more important than taking care of Y/N.”

Another Monet of silence.

“Fine,” he sighs. “If Y/N says he doesn’t need me, I’ll go. But only for the first twenty minutes, so tell her that anything I need to know about should be discussed within that time frame. And Lucius? This won’t happen again.”

And with that, Bruce returns as he pockets his phone. “Baby, there’s a meeting at work that Lucius says I need to be at and I told him I’d only go if you don’t need me.” He bends down so he’s level with you. “Please say you need me here. I don’t wanna leave you.” He gently grass your chin and moves your head so you’re facing him, but you move your eye to look down. “Say something. Even just a little noise and I’ll stay here.”

He grasps your left leg stump and applies some pressure in an attempt to make you make a noise out of pain.

Of course he’s playing dirty. Well, he can do this all he wants, he’s not getting anything out of me.

After a few minutes of silence, he sighs and admits defeat. “Alright, fine. I’ll go. But I’m only gonna be there for twenty minutes and I’ll be back home before you know it.” He places a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sorry, baby, but I’ll be back soon.”

Just then, there’s a knock at your door and it opens to reveal Dick who’s smiling ear to ear.

“Heard you’re leaving for a meeting, Bruce. Thought I’d come and keep my baby bird company.”

“Dick, you know only one of us is allowed in here at a time,” Bruce growls, acting like he cares about the rules when he broke them earlier today.

“But you’re leaving, so why not give me what’s left of your time so I can stay here and take care of Y/N?”

The two stare at each other and for a second you think you’re about to witness another fight.

Yeah, fights have broken out over disagreements about spending time with you, like you’re a toy that has to be shared between children and not a prisoner.

“Fine,” Bruce relents. “I’ll give you what’s left of my time with Y/N. Just don’t go bragging about it to the others, we don’t need another fight to break out. We just got the foyer’s chandelier fixed.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Dick cheers as he picks you up bridal style. “Come on, baby bird, let’s get you some fresh air!”

Dick zips through halls and rooms and finally stops at the gym.

“Now, time for your exercise, baby bird,” he cheers as he gets on his knees and braces your back against him.

Dick insisted on being the one responsible for keeping you in shape, which consisted of stretching your last remaining limb and moving your three limb stumps to prevent atrophy.

“Doing good, baby bird,” he says as he rotates your arm in a circle. “Think you can handle doing some weights?”

Once again, you say nothing.

“You know, you really should say something, baby bird. If you don’t your vocal cords’ll probably atrophy.” He turns you around so that you two are facing one another, but you keep your eye down. “Come on, Y/N, we have’s heard your voice since that horrible night. Will you please just say something? Anything?”

Like always, you say nothing.

“Ok, you don’t feel like it. I get it, you’ll talk when you’re ready.” He stands up and picks you up. “You did good today, Y/N. Wanna watch me do my exercises?”

That’s another thing that happens when you’re with Dick, he props you up in a chair so you have a front row seat to his acrobatic exercises because Dick loves showing off in front of you, but you always look down, not giving him any attention; you hate this part of your day because not only does Dick’s cheerful energy piss you off, but it reminds you of what you’ve lost. The Megamycete gave you abilities you could only dream of, but now you’ve lost everything and you’ll never be able to move like a world class athlete or take flight and soar among the clouds.

After some time, Dick finally calls it a day and lands right in front of you and gives a little bow, as if he were performing for an adoring audience and not a “brother” he had a hand in kidnapping.

“That’s enough exercise for the day,” he says with a grin as he picks you up. “How about we go relax and watch some TV?”

The rest of Dick’s allotted time is spent in your room, him holding you in his lap and watching whatever he thought you’d be interested in which consisted of various cartoons and animated movies.

At least it’s better than the usual Disney movie marathons he normally puts you through.

“Hey, dickhead,” Jason says as he enters your room without knocking. “It’s my time with the kid.”

“Already,” Dick whines as he holds you closer. “Can’t you give us five more minutes? This movie’s almost over!”

“You know the rules, we stick to the schedule, no matter what. Unless you wanna give me five extra minutes and deal with the others when they come bitching about it?”

“Fine,” he relents. “We’ll finish the movie tomorrow.”

Jason quickly walks over to your bed, scoops you up, and storms off while carrying you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Like he’s done every day for the past month, Jason carries you to the library, locking the door behind him and barricading it with a nearby table, and sets you down on the sofa. He uses his time with you to read books to you in the library, with many of the books being those you had at your house while others are books he thought you’d be interested in.

“So, got any preference on what you wanna hear today,” he asks as he sits on the other end. “We finished Sea of Rust yesterday, so we get to start a new book.”

Silence.

“Don’t wanna talk? Alright, well, unless you say something in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna get Pride and Prejudice and that’s what we’re gonna read.”

You resist the urge to roll your eye at his threat. Sure, you weren’t the biggest fan of it when you had to read it back in high school, just like you didn’t like much of the books you were forced to read back then (the time you had to read The Scarlet Letter in sophmore year was the first time you actually fell asleep in class), but he’s kidding himself if he thinks he’s gonna get the best of you. He can read everything Jane Austin ever wrote and go into a three hour rant on each of them and you’ll never give in.

“Ok, Pride and Prejudice it is.”

And with that, he gets up, goes over to where the book is in the library, and sits back down and starts reading aloud.

You know this is Jason’s favorite book, but you zone out, his voice becoming white noise to you. Years ago, you would’ve loved to have been read to like your Momma did before your life went to shit.

Now, you have Jason practically tripping over himself to read to you and you wish to be anywhere else.

“Master Jason,” Alfred says from the other side of the door. “I have Master Y/N’s lunch. May I come in?”

“Yeah, hold on, Alfred,” Jason replies as he places a bookmark in the book before putting it down and getting up to unblock the door.

“Thank you, Master Jason,” the butler says as he enters the library, tray with a glass on top of it in hand. “What’s the book of the day?”

“We’re reading Pride and Prejudice. Figure I gotta show the kid some real literature every now and then; he can’t read trash all the time.”

“Indeed. Good afternoon, Master Y/N. I trust you and Jason are having fun reading?” Silence. “Hope you’re ready for lunch.”

Unlike with breakfast, you don’t try to fight with Alfred about lunch because you have no idea what Jason would do. Knowing him, he’d pry your mouth open and pour the shake down your throat.

“You seemed to enjoy this one,” Alfred says as he wipes your mouth. “I made it with apples and grapes. I suppose I’ll be making this one more in the future. I’ll see you tonight for dinner. Good day, you two.”

And with that, he leaves the library and the two of you to resume your “bonding.”

“Hey, it’s my turn now,” Tim says as he enters the library through the entrance to the Batcave.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, Replacement,” Jason growls as he places the bookmark back in the book. “Unless the kid would rather stay with me?”

He looks over to you and you remain silent and looking down.

“There’s your answer,” Tim says as he picks you up. “Later, Jason.”

He leaves the library by unblocking the door and walks all the way back to your room and you’re both happy to be back in your room and away from the rest of the house and angry that you have to share your space with Tim.

“Alright, what game are we gonna play today,” Tim asks as he places you on your bed and gets the gaming laptop from the desk and sits down next to you so he can place the computer on the desk table he has on his lap.

Tim uses his time to play video games with you using the laptop he provided you which is full of games that he found at your house and Steam library (and features a biometric scanner that only allows him to unlock it) and talks while he plays. The subject of your “conversations” vary depending on the day, as he’ll talk about his thoughts about the game and provide commentary about his playthrough, a case he’s working on, what he’s up to at Drake Industries, vent to you about the others, or whatever weird topic he’s currently obsessing over. He, of course, pauses so you can respond, which you never do.

“So, what game are we gonna play today,” he asks as he boots up the laptop. “Are we gonna try to wrap up our current playthrough of Cyberpunk? Or did you want to play a new game?”

Silence.

“Well, I thought we could play Final Fantasy XV. I saw you bought it a couple years back, but barely played it.”

That’s right, you bought it around when it first came out, but due to your old laptop being a piece of outdated crap, you were barely able to play it before the lagging made you rage quit and you decided to wait until you had a better laptop (even if it took you a few years to save up the money). Unfortunately, you had gotten other games since then and FFXV ended up in your backlog that you’ve yet to scratch at.

Now, you’re coming back to it under the worst possible circumstances.

“Hey, while I got you, I figured you’d want to know that I hired three more people for Gould Games. They came from some of the best triple-A studios in the business and I screened them personally. I’m sure they’ll make your studio proud.”

Not long after your return to the manor, Tim was quick to use his resources to acquire Gould Games, claiming he wanted to “preserve your work.” Bruce was pissed because he wanted to be the one to acquire it and turn it into a subsidiary of WE, but Tim beat him to it. When he told you, you remained silent and didn’t react, but it burned you up on the inside to know that the studio you created and your game is now Tim’s property.

“The team I’ve gathered has a few ideas on what new game to develop and I wanted to run them by you, see if there’s one you like or if you have some thoughts of your own.”

He spends the next few hours talking about the ideas Tim’s hires had on what new game your studio was going to make and his thoughts on them, going into gross detail about gameplay mechanics, possible issues, and a million other things that you paid no attention to.

His phone buzzes and he takes it out and based off the noise he makes, you assume it’s something bad.

“Drake, I’m coming in,” Damian says seconds before entering your room, pushing an armchair in. “Father said—“

“Yeah, I just got the text,” Tim groans. “He needs my help on Black Mask’s arms smuggling ring and with Steph and Cass working on with Barbara on finding Riddler, you’re getting additional time today.”

Seriously, fuck your life. You hate to be around them all, but Bruce takes the number one spot with Damian being a close second. It makes your stomach churn at the fact that you share DNA with him.

“I’m taking my brother now,” he says as he pushes the chair closer to your bed.

“Alright, alright,” Tim responds as he saves the game and closes the laptop.

And with that, Tim places the laptop back where he got it from before leaving the room while Damian places you in the wheelchair and pushes you out so you two can have your time together.

While you’re glad not having to deal with Barbara, Steph, and Cass today, you hate that now you have to be around Damian even longer.

“Now that we have more time today, I’ll finally be able to finish my painting of us,” he says as he pushes you into his room, an easel with a canvas on it set up in a corner of the room with a small table covered in jars of paint nearby.

For the past month, he’s been working on a portrait of the two of you; when he gets you, he’ll spend most of the time painting with you in the center of the room surrounded by his damn pets.

“Do you need anything, brother,” he asks as he sets you up in your usual spot and the pets currently in the room (Titus and Alfred the Cat) make their way over to you and cuddle you like they’ve always been sweet little creatures and not beasts from hell that would chase you around the manor, barking, hissing, and damaging anything of yours like they did when you still lived here.

You say nothing and Damian begins, putting on his apron, grabbing his brush, and begins painting on the canvas. The only good thing about this is that he’s quiet while painting, so you’re not forced to listen to his voice like you are with the others.

Of course, you’re left to deal with your extremely depressing thoughts and the deafening silence from not having the Megamycete anymore, but you can’t have it all.

“Done,” he says after a few hours of nonstop painting. He turns the easel around to show you the painting. “What do you think, brother?”

When you don’t look up to see the painting, Damian softly cups your chin and pushes your head up so that you see the painting he’s been working on for the past month. The painting consists of you sitting in a chair, with the painting you looking exactly as you do now, with Damian standing behind you with his right hand on your left shoulder in some gesture of brotherhood, respect, and admiration.

It made you sick to see the two of you smiling like you’ve always been close and he didn’t try to kill you on day one and then proceeded to make your life hell.

“I’ll hang it up in your room later. Now, it’s time for our daily walk through the gardens.”

He pushes you out of his room and down the hall with Titus and Alfred following close behind.

This is the part you hate the most when you’re with Damian, the “walk,” which is him pushing you around the yard while he talks about his time in the League of Assassins, his work as Robin, and his complaints about having to socialize with Gotham’s elite at galas, dinners, and charities.

Fort he next few hours, you’re pushed through the vast gardens of Wayne Manor while Damian talks about having to climb up a tall mountain when he was six and still reached the top despite breaking his foot. Of course, he has to take you to the barn where his pet cow resides (you lost your shit when you found out Bruce gave him a pet cow when he couldn’t even give you a birthday card), laughing when the damn thing licks the damaged side of your face and your fantasize about having the Megamycete and turning that thing into a burger.

Finally, he brings you inside, where Bruce is waiting to take you for your bath.

“I look forward to our next outing, brother,” he says, bowing before leaving to get ready for patrol.

“You two have fun,” Bruce asks as he carries you to your bathroom and begins drawing the bath. “I saw Damian’s painting of you hanging up. He did a great job. Maybe I should have him paint the new portrait of us.”

You zone as he strips you of your clothes and slowly lowers you into the bath when he proceeds to lather up a wash cloth with soap and wide your body. You’re filled with anger and humiliation at being reduced to such a pathetic thing when you were once on par with a god.

“There we go, baby,” he says after rinsing the last of the shampoo out of your hair. “Nice and clean. Now, let’s get you into your night clothes and get you ready for bed.”

While Alfred dresses you for the day, Bruce handles dressing you for the night.

“There we go,” he says as he dresses you in one of his shirts that’s similar to a dress on you before tucking you into bed. “Now, Alfred will be here soon to give you your dinner and we’ll be leaving for patrol. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a busy night tonight, so we’ll be back later than normal, so no after patrol dinner.”

Well, at least life’s nice enough to throw you a bone every now and again.

“I love you, baby,” he says before placing a kiss on your forehead. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

And with that, he leaves just as Alfred comes in to give you your dinner shake and nightly meds and brush your teeth.

“You had quite the day, Master Y/N,” the butler says as he turns the TV off. “I hope you get some well deserved rest.” He then gives you a hug. “I’m sorry, my boy. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

And with that, he heads to the door and turns the lights off before closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

For the umpteenth time you wish you could cry, but your tears have long since dried up and you just don’t have the energy to do more than just exist.

As you close your eyes to go to sleep, you pray to whatever god’s out there that you don’t wake up in the morning, even though you know that prayer’s gonna go unanswered like it always does.

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#from gold to mold #yandere batfamily #male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily #batman #dc x male reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere stephanie brown #yandere dc #yandere alfred pennyworth

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sitepathos · 18 days ago

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From Gold to Mold

Chapter 15: The End (A)

Warning: This chapter will contain blood, gore, and violence. Read at your own risk.

Just then, the anger, misery, and pain that has built up within you for the thirteen years you were trapped in Wayne Manor fills your body and it feels like you’re a furnace that’s been filled with tons of coal and is now an inferno.

No, this is not how things are going to end! You didn’t survive all those years in that wretched mansion with the worst people imaginable just to be dragged back there and forced to live in some sick joke that calls itself a family just when you finally got your life together!

With your newfound strength, you burst through the ice encasing your body, sending chunks of ice of various sizes flying in all directions. The Bats put distance between themselves and you to protect themselves, which gives you the perfect opportunity to charge Bruce and grab him by the throat; he gasps and his hands immediately grasp yours to try to dislodge them, but your strength is in handed not only by the Megamycete, but the righteous judgment you intend to deliver onto the Waynes.

“Let’s get rid of this,” you mock as you grab his cowl and rip it off, ignoring the shock the fabric gives you, revealing Bruce Wayne’s shocked and pain filled expression, “I want to see the fear in your eyes!”

“Father,” you hear Damian yell as he and the other bastards rush towards you in an effort to save Bruce.

In response, you summon a pair of mold wings and take off with Bruce in your grasp while mold tendril emerge from the dome’s walls to keep the others distracted.

“I’ve thought about this day for years,” you say as you slam Bruce into the dome’s wall. “Every time you and your bastards made me feel like shit, I thought about how I would give it back to you tenfold! Once you all are dead, I’ll finally be able to move one with my life!”

Several tendrils emerge from the wall and pierce through Bruce’s limbs, causing him to yell in pain as they worm through his limbs and wrap around his body, trapping him and leaving him unable to escape. While you’re sure the tendrils are enough to keep him there, you know better to underestimate him, so not wanting to take any chances, you rip off his utility belt, once again ignoring the shock it emits, and crush the entire thing into bits and pieces.

“Don’t go anywhere, Mr. Wayne,” you mock as you turn around so you can carry out the rest of your revenge. “And enjoy the show.”

“Y/N, wait,” he shouts, fear and desperation completely audible in his tone, but you pay him no mind.

You have work to do.

Thankfully, the rest are still distracted by the tendrils, so you’re able to sneak up on your first target: Dick. It always pissed you off to no end how Bruce’s “golden boy” was always called the best big brother; how people would swoon over the sight of him spending time with the others, no matter what time it was, or what he was doing at the moment.

You always wondered what it would be like to have an older brother since the ones you saw on TV were always nice and strong and funny, but it didn’t take you long to realize Dick was like that to everyone else but you. To him, you were an outsider, never a brother and over the years, your resentment towards the man piled up enough to rival Mt. Everest in scale.

“Guess we’re finally spending time together, Dick,” you mock as you grab him by the neck and fly up high, causing everyone to shout his name in fear as they could only watch on in horror about what’s about to happen. “Too bad it’s over a decade too late and it’ll obly be for a few moments.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. “I’m sorry for—“

He’s cut off by you ripping off his right arm, causing him to shout in utter agony. You look at the arm you just ripped off, examining it like it were a weird rock and not the limb of a person before you drop it onto the floor below you.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if a bird had its wings ripped off,” you say nonchalantly, like you were about to commit murder. “I mean, for a creature that spends most of its life in the air to no longer be able to take flight? That has to be a death sentence, right?”

You pull off his left leg, causing another round of yelling and everyone to shout both his name and yours.

“You may not be a bird, but you’re an acrobat, so you know what it’s like to soar through the air. So, it’ll probably be the same thing for you, right?”

You rip off his left arm.

“To no longer be able to swing around and do those tricks of yours? That has to be a serious tragedy, yeah?”

And with the right leg ripped off, he now just a torso that can only convulse and yell in pain as his blood drips from the blood stumps where his limbs once were.

“You should’ve left me alone. Goodbye, little birdy.”

And with that, you release him, letting gravity bring him back down to earth. His siblings try to gather around to catch him, but you command a tendril to emerge through the root and pierce his heart, holding him up as his blood rains down below.

You watch as he tries to say something, but all that comes out are a few weak, wet gasps before he goes silent and his body goes still, signifying that he’s dead.

“Dick,” Bruce shouts, the pain in his voice now apparent for all to hear and you can see tears begin to fall from his eyes.

(Yes, he now knows a fraction of your pain! Finish the rest! Make them suffer!)

Next up is Jason.

You always hated Jason because he always thought his pain was the only one that mattered. He went on and on about how Bruce failed him and replaced him with Tim, but instead of leaving Bruce and Gotham behind, what does he do? He comes back and goes on glorified tantrum just so he can get Bruce’s attention, unsure he wants Bruce’s job or his approval.

He had his head so far up his ass that he actually thought you were a replacement for Jason, but had he thought about someone other than himself, he would see that Bruce only brought you into his house because he had a legal obligation rather than out of fatherly love. Anyone from the outside looking in would see no one thought you a part of the Wayne Family.

And you know the real sad part of it? The two of you were in the same boat.

Bruce failed you just as much as he did Jason and you both wanted him to take you into his arms and promise to take care of everything and never let go.

Had he came to you during his early Red Hood days, you would’ve helped him become a better Batman than Bruce ever could be before killing both Joker and Bruce. The thought of you being a sort of Robin to him almost made you laugh.

Almost.

Now, all you want to do is make him feel the pain he made you feel when you first met.

You slam him into the dome’s wall and summon a moldy crowbar and hold it high above your head. Even with his helmet, you can tell he’s having serious flashbacks to that night in the warehouse with Joker.

“You go on and on about how you died,” you say as you begin to repeatedly beat him in the head with your weapon, making some serious cracks in his helmet. “How he failed you. But think about it, Jason, with your personality and people skills, you were always gonna die! Whether it was being shot by a cashier in a failed robber or gunned down in a gang war, you were doomed to die early!

“Maybe instead of blaming him, you should blame yourself, Jason!”

You broke through his helmet and Jason’s face is now various shades of black and blue with dark red blood mixed in. He long stopped fighting you and is now looking at you, all signs of fighting gone and replaced by fear and pain.

“This time, Jason, stay in hell where you belong.”

And with that, you shove the crowbar in his forehead, piercing through his skull and brain, and holding him up as his body goes slack.

You hear Tim yelling Jason’s name and charging towards you in some sad attempt of revenge, but you quickly turn around and use a newly summoned tendril to pierce his stomach, stopping him dead in his tracks.

While all the Waynes gave you the creeps, Tim always creeped you out more than the others combined; not long after he moved in, you learned he had an obsession with Batman and the Robins, following them around and taking countless pictures of them over the years.

In fact, that’s how he managed to worm his way into the family, by blackmailing Bruce into adopting him.

It pissed you off to no end that he was treated so well after doing such a dirty tactic while you, Bruce’s biological son and legal responsibility, were treated like shit on the bottom of Bruce’s shoe.

You always thought there was something wrong with Tim, but when you discovered that Tim was always spying on everyone in the manor, keeping track of every aspect of their personality like they were some goddamn psychology experiment.

“I gave you the chance to leave me alone, Tim, and you still kept putting your nose where it didn’t belong.” You bring him closer to you and tenderly place your hands on either side of his head in a mocking gesture, your thumbs directly below his eyes. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

And with that, you jam your thumbs into his eyes, causing blood to drip from the sockets and Tim to scream in pain. You allow his screams to go on for a while before crushing his head like a tin can, covering your hands in blood and grey matter; you dismiss the tendril, sending his body falling to the ground, landing with a unceremonious thud and sprawls across the ground.

(Three have fallen to you. The rest will soon follow.)

Cass, like the psycho she is, leaps out of nowhere, blades in hand and tears streaming from her eyes, towards you, clearly more interested in revenge than capturing you.

You never interacted with Cass much. In fact, the only time you two were in the same room with each other was when Bruce brought her to the manor. You never will forget those cold, soulless eyes of hers, how she seemed to be looking into your soul for… something and based off the look she gave you, she didn’t find what she was looking for and ever since, she’s given you a wide berth.

“What’s the matter, Cass,” you mock as you dodge her attacks with ease as her anger makes her sloppy. “Mad that I swatted them like the gnats they are?” That clearly pisses her off more as she becomes more aggressive in her attacks. “Did you love them? Are you capable of feeling love? Do you even know what love is?”

You summon a blade in your hand and meet her weapons with yours and when you look at her eyes, you see nothing but sadness and hatred in them.

(You must have hit a sore spot. This could be beneficial to you.)

“Come on, Cass, with your upbringing, you should know you were never going to be a real person. Hell, that’s why Mr. Wayne took you in in the first place. He took one look at you, saw how fucked up beyond all repair you are, and decided to bring you into the fold so he wouldn’t be the only that wasn’t human!”

Her rapid breathing shows she’s furious beyond words at this point and you can’t help but widen the grin that’s adorning your face.

(It will not be long now. Just push her a little more.)

“He saw himself in you,” you continue as you block more of her attacks. “You’re both so fucked up, you’re not even human.” You two clash blades and look each other straight in the eye. You lean forward so you can say something that should set her over the edge. “He wasn’t your father, Cass, he was your master. And without him, you have no purpose.”

If she could talk, she’s no doubt be screaming in rage right now, but all she can do is hack away at your blade and you allow it to fall apart so you could lure her into your trap. Once your blade was destroyed, she leapt forward so she could deal a fatal blow.

She was cut short when you summoned two blades and slashed quickly, stopping Cass in her tracks. She looks at you, her eyes wide in disbelief, before she looks down at her abdomen.

Slowly, a steady stream of blood trickles out of nowhere before quickly gushing out in a torrent, staining the ground beneath her feet. Then, Cass’ upper body slides to the right and lands on the ground while her lower body slides to the left.

You can see Cass move her arms, like she’s trying to crawl away, but she’s lost too much blood, so she quickly goes still, never to move again.

Stephanie shrieks out in sadness before charging at you.

Unlike the others, Steph actually spent some time with you after she moved in. That lasted for about a week and once she found out that you weren’t like them, that you were normal, she discarded you like a puppy that had gotten too big and she had nothing more to do with you.

“You killed them,” you shrieks as she try’s to punch you. “They were your family and you killed them!”

“They were never my family,” you growl back as you dodge her fists. “And had they left me alone, they’d still be alive.” You summon several tendrils and thrust all of them towards her at once, skewing her like she were a pincushion. “But don’t worry, you’ll be joining them soon enough.”

You pull the tendrils out to reveal Steph has been reduced to a bloody hole-ridden chunk of meat. Her body wobbles a bit, as if she’s going to move, before collapsing into a heap onto the floor.

“And now, there’s only you,” you say, turning to Damian, who is obviously crying, but he still stands confidently.

“Brother,” he says, his voice wavering a bit. “I know we committed many transgressions against you and we do not deserve your forgiveness, but what you have done cannot go unpunished.” He holds up his sword towards you in a threatening manner. “As the heir of the Wayne Family, it is my duty to avenge my fallen brothers and sisters.”

“How cute, you’re pretending you love them.” You summon twin blades. “Look at your upbringing, Damian: Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Ra’s al Ghul, League of Assassins. Face it, you had no idea what love was growing up and you still don’t. You’re not human, you’re a demon. And I’ll take pleasure in killing you.”

With that, you two clash blades, both of you trying to get the upper hand, taking advantage of every perceivable opening, and quickly covering any drop in guard.

“Remember how you went on and on about how easy it’d be to cut me down,” you say as you swipe at Damian only for him to dodge. “You were so damn smug that you were taught how to swing a sword before you knew how to crawl and if you decided to get rid of me, it wouldn’t remotely be a challenge. How about now, Damian? We’ve been going at this for a while now and I’m still standing!”

“I’m sorry for how I treated you, brother. I knew you had no training whatsoever, but I was so determined to prove myself the true heir of our father that I went out of my way to berate you.” He thrusts his blade towards the center of your body, but you jump back just out of his reach before locking blades.

“He’s not my father!”

Bruce Wayne is not your father, nor will be ever be; he was just a man that slept with your Momma and managed to get her pregnant.

And thats what pisses you off so much: no matter how much you hate and wish it weren’t so, half your DNA will always be linked back to that bastard.

Even the Megamycete can’t fix that.

And every time you think about it, you feel your insides heat up to the point you feel like you’re about to melt.

With your newfound rage, you bash your blades against Damian’s sword with so much force that it shatters like it were glass and not tempered steel.

Even with his mask on, you can tell you’ve shocked Damian so much that he’s frozen like a deer in headlights.

(This is your chance! Take it! Take it now! Kill him!)

And you do. You swing your blades down in vertical motions, cutting his arms off, causing him to yell in pain.

“Take this, you son of a bitch,” you shout as you slice his legs with each blade, cutting them off and sending him falling to the ground. “This is what you get! All those years of treating me like shit and I’m the one on top I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

You continue to shout hate-filled declarations and insults as you slice Damian over and over with your blades, reducing the once proud young man into ribbons of meat and blood.

Once you get out of your rage-fueled blackout, you see that very little remains of Damian. In fact, had you not known better, you’d never know it was once a human body.

“Burn in hell, you little bastard,” you mutter before spitting on his remains. “You won’t be missed.”

“Damian,” Bruce shouts as he cries over his last child being slaughtered before his eyes.

(Now there is only him. Finish him.)

“So, that’s the last of your brood,” you mock as you sprout your wings and fly up to him. “And don’t think I forgot about Barbara. While I was busy killing your bastards, I ordered countless of the Megamycete’s roots to the Clocktower and had them crush her into bloody paste.” You chuckle as a thought squirmed into your head. “Think she’ll get her legs in hell, or is she doomed to be a cripple there, too?”

Bruce lets out a tearful whimper, but remains silent.

“Tell me how much you hate me,” you say as you pierce his lower torso with your blades, causing him to yell out in pain. “Go on, do it! Say how much you egret bringing me into this world! Shout at the top of your lungs how you wish you never met my Momma! Do it!”

“I’m sorry I failed you,” he whispers, but you’re able to hear it well enough. “I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve given you the love only a father can give his son.” He looks you in the eye and you can see sorrow, regret, and mourning in his gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry for everything.”

Once upon a time, you would’ve given anything to hear that. You spent countless nights in bed, wondering how it would feel to hear Bruce admit his mistakes, to hold you in his arms and promise to never let go, to declare his love for you and to do better.

Now, however? It just pisses you off.

“You’re apologizing to me?”

Left leg.

“I don’t;t need your apologies!”

Right arm.

“You had your chance to do that and you fucked it up! Just like you do with everyone and everything you come in contact with!”

Just half an inch from his heart.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

After a few more stabs, you release him from his bindings and grab him before he can fall.

(It’s time to put an end to it all. Go. We will go on ahead and make preparations.”

You summon several tendrils and use them to gather the remains of Bruce’s children and bring down the dome so you can fly off into the night sky.

“Take a good look, Mr. Wayne,” you mock as you position him to face the tower behind you. “You’re legacy’s about to come crashing down.”

With that, you order the roots in Wayne Tower to begin taking out what little support structures are still in place, sending the tower crashing down in a sea of debris and dust.

This isn’t just about killing the Waynes, you need to completely destroy everything that would allow the Wayne name to carry on; if order to be free, you need to make sure that no one will ever utter their names ever again.

And after tonight, the Wayne name will die. Sure, people will still talk about them for the immediate future since your destruction of them will give people something to talk about for some time, but humans are notorious for having short memories.

How many statues of heroes are passed by everyday by countless people without so much as a glance?

How many monuments are talked about without anyone truly knowing why they’re there?

How many people learn lessons just to turn around and make the same one over and over?

In time, the name Wayne will slip from everyone’s minds before eventually being forgotten about. And with the Megamycete, you have all the time in the world.

You arrive at Wayne Manor and crash through the front doors, releasing everyone and sending them scattering across the foyer. From the second level, roots emerge from all directions, carrying various items, ranging from from jewelry and cash to vintage bottles of wine and priceless antiques.

“What’re you doing,” Bruce says before coughing up blood on the marble floor.

“Just taking a few things,” you reply as you take stock of everything the Megamycete has collected. “With everything you assholes have done to me over the years, I’d say I’m owed some monetary compensation as well as blood payment. You don’t mind, right? I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna need them where you’re going and it’ll be a shame for everything to be lost. Don’t worry, I’ll put it to good use.”

Just then, a tendril emerges with an unconscious Alfred in its grasp.

“Alfred,” Bruce shouts before you slap him with a nearby tendril.

“Shut up, you’ll wake him. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna kill him.” You order the tendril to stop and you look down at the sleeping man before, someone you once trusted with your life and secrets. “Despite his betrayal, I still love him, you know. He was the only one that was kind to me in this godforsaken place. The only one that the days here even remotely bearable.”

You bend down to kiss the man on the forehead before ordering the tendril to resume taking him outside.

“So, this is it,” you say as you turn back to face Bruce. “This is where you die: alone and surrounded by your children as your watch your world collapse around you.”

Just then, several explosions go off in various parts of the manor, both on the surface and in the Batcave, and with the Megamycete’s preparations complete, the explosions cause massive fires to break out all over, burning everything they touch and allowed to burn uninterrupted as the sprinkler system’s been clogged with roots.

“You know how they say it’s been a pleasure,” you ask as fire begins to enter the foyer from every direction. “It hasn’t. Burn in hell, Bruce Wayne.”

And with that, you march out of the house, closing the doors behind you and steeping back to watch as the place and people that caused you so much misery goes up in flames, consumed in a blaze that will never rival yours.

At your feet, Alfred makes a noise and when you look down, you see he’s still out.

(We were surprised you allowed him to live. It is as you said to the bastard, he betrayed you. He allowed your torment to go on for so many years. Why allow him to be the only survivor?)

“Because he was the only family I had. He made surviving that hellhole easier. I owed him one.”

(There is a possibility he will retaliate. After all, he loved them, as well.)

“I know,” you sigh as you watch a portion of the manor collapse, causing the fire to burn even more. “We’ll deal with that if and when the time comes.”

You place a bundle of the butler’s most prized possessions next to him before gathering up your gains and departing into the skies.

(So, what is next?)

“What?”

(You exacted your righteous vengeance and slew the Waynes and destroyed the monuments to their name. Where will you go from here?)

It’s a logical question. Anyone who ask you that after everything you’ve done tonight. You’ve thought about this moment for years, thinking it was impossible for most of that time, but now, here you are, still standing after all your demons have been conquered.

“That is the question, isn’t it? Guess I spent so much time thinking about getting to this point that I never really thought about what would come next.”

(Understandable.)

“But, with the Wayne Nightmare over, I’m ready for what happens next. Get ready, ‘cause we’re about to grab life by the horns!”

(We look forward to it.)

You awake with a slight start and when you look at your surroundings, you see you’re on the mini yacht you bought a year ago after that night in Gotham. You’re in your favorite folding chair on the deck with the sun setting directly in front of you, painting the sky in a beautiful assortment of oranges and pinks; you’d fallen asleep while getting some sun.

As expected, news outlets all around the world had a field day when the smoke finally cleared and it was revealed that Wayne manor had burned down and the famous family within had perished; many assumed Alfred had some hand in their fate, but he was eventually cleared of any foul play.

Your heart aches a bit at the thought of the old butler.

Naturally, the Waynes’ funerals were extravagant and widely attended by all, guests ranging from city officials like the mayor and Commissioner Gordon to common everyday people who said they owed the Waynes a debt of gratitude that will never be repaid and at the center of it was Alfred.

You approached him after all was said in done, taking the form of one of the many countless people in the Megamycete’s records so you wouldn’t be recognized.

“I’m sorry, Alfred,” you told him. “Not about what happened, but what it did to you.”

“I’m sorry, too, Master Y/N. I wish I had done things differently back then. I should’ve tried harder to get them to notice you, to make them stop treating you so poorly and to embrace you as you deserved.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him they were never going to accept you.

He moved back to Britain the next day and a month after that, he killed himself, claiming in a letter that he could no longer live with the weight of his failures.

You cried when the news reached you and visited his grave, which was right next to the Waynes. He said he wished to be buried next to his family. You refused to allow the Megamycete to absorb him, wanting him to finally know rest, and used the nearby roots so that his grave would always have flowers.

Of course, all sorts of reporters visited your house, wanting to know your thoughts about the death of your “family,” but you declined to answer any of them, your only comment on the subject being: “If I wanted nothing to do with them while they were alive, what makes you think I want anything to do with them now that they’re dead?”

With all the valuable things you looted from the manor, you amassed a fortune that would guarantee you a life without a day of work. You kept the cash and sold all everything else to Cobblepot, who was over the moon at the thought of owning anything taken from Wayne Manor just before it was burned down, especially anything that was precious to the Wayne Family itself. He said if he couldn’t do in the Waynes himself, he’ll just have to settle for desecrating their heirlooms, his favorite being the famous pearl necklace Martha Wayne wore the night she was murdered.

You also aided Lex Luthor in his mission to acquiring what was left of Wayne Enterprises, selling off every last secret you had that would allow him to turn the once great empire into another one of his subsidiaries. Once the purchase went through, he added millions into your already vast fortune. Last you heard, he was working on turning Gotham into Metropolis 2.0, tearing down all the older buildings and replacing them with gleaning skyscrapers made of steel and glass.

A small, petty part of you was glad to hear that as Lex would further speed up the erasure of Bruce’s legacy with all his new plans and his drama with Superman. Plus, Bruce would no doubt be furious at the thought of someone other than his family being responsible for Gotham.

With your seemingly endless riches, you bought this mini yacht and decided to go sailing around the world, a dream your Momma had said she was going to fulfill one day, but unfortunately never had the chance to see through. You even named it after her, that way it was like you both were doing it.

But that wasn’t the only reason why you did it. With you being the last surviving person with Wayne blood, many people wanted to ask you about your thoughts on the Waynes’ deaths, what you felt when you heard the news, and were you involved in any way.

You expected people to hound you, so you decided to disappear for a while. You still own your house and plan on returning to it, but escaping from the public eye and letting the drama play out before eventually dying down was definitely the smart thing to do. Plus, no one ever said they regretting traveling to see the world.

“Never realized how beautiful the world is,” you say as you pick up your glass of champagne.

(Neither did we. We look forward to seeing it with you.)

“And we will. After all, we have all the time in the world. And no one to stop us.”

You take a sip and lean back in your chair, content in the sunset at sea before you.

You look forward to seeing what this new chapter has in store for you. And if someone tries to get in your way?

Well, they say hi to the Waynes in hell for you.

#from gold to mold #yandere batfamily #male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily #batman #dc x male reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere dc #yandere stephanie brown

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sitepathos · 30 days ago

Text

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 14: The Apex

It’s been about a month (you lost track of time long ago, so the only way you know that is the Megamycete) since you learned that the only person who gave you any sort of hope during your thirteen years in hell was the mastermind behind your reunion with you tormentors and you still feel as bad as the day it happened. You might have withdrawn the tendrils covering the outside of your house so as to not draw attention should someone happen to wander by, but you’ve still remained inside your room, the window and door covered by tendrils protruding from your body.

You’ve stayed in bed since you learned of Alfred’s betrayal, passing the time by crying until you pass out and starting the whole thing over once you wake up.

You still don’t understand how he could’ve done this; how he could completely betray you and sacrifice your happiness just so he could see you back at that godforsaken mansion. If he really missed you that much, he could’ve come and visit at any time like a normal person. But, in his deluded mind, you’re a Wayne, not a Gould, and that means you belong in that horrible mansion in that cesspit of a city, surrounded by the worst people you’ve ever known.

And to make things worse, you know they’ll never allow you to remain the host of the Megamycete. They can say it’s dangerous and list all the reasons having such a thing in your body is a bad idea until the sun explodes, but you know it’s because you’re not only on equal footing with them, but because you’re now better than them in every way. Where they slink in the shadows, you can turn into anything so you can enter any room you want; where their bodies take weeks to recover from serious injuries that still linger, you can take a bullet to the brain pan and still keep ticking; and where they’ve spent their entire lives perfecting talents, you have the knowledge, memories, and experiences of millions of people throughout centuries and thanks to the Megamycete’s roots present throughout Gotham, you’re constantly updated.

All of them are so used to being the smartest and strongest people in the room and with all of them remembering how easy you were to push around when you were younger, they’ll never accept you being something more than they can ever be.

You feel tears begin to stream from your eyes again at the thought of them.

“Why,” you croak out. “Why can’t they leave me alone?”

(Because you chose to walk away,) the Megamycete answers. (They have always walked away from others, even from one another on multiple occasions, but never once have they been the ones to be rejected. They think now that they are ready to deign you with their attention, you should be running towards them and their pathetic egos will not accept the thought of you wanting nothing to do with them.)

“Yeah,” you say, trying to chuckle a little, but it comes out as some sort of pained noise. “That sounds about right.”

(You realize they will never stop, do you not? None of them know when to walk away from something and now you are the object of their collective obsession. They might have removed our roots from their territory, but it does not take a hive mind such as ours to know they are working on a way to separate us. They realize they will never be able to stop or contain you, but if they find a way to purge us from your body, they will be able to take you with no difficulty.)

Your heart stops at the thought of the Megamycete being taken from you. Sure, the two of you might have joined together because you didn’t want to die and it wanted out of that cavern, but you’ve both spent countless hours getting to know one another and you like to think you’ve built up a strong and healthy friendship.

Hell, you’ll go as far as to consider the Megamycete you’re best friend (as odd and maybe a little sad that may sound).

Plus, you’ve long since grown accustomed to having the Megamycete’s abilities at your disposal. You have the minds of countless people at your fingertips and can sprout wings and mold weapons without even thinking about it.

To lose all that and go back to being that pathetic little whelp you were when you were dragged to Wayne Manor…

“Wait, can that even happen,” you exclaim, you’re Ming having thousands of thoughts a minute. “You’re a part of me and have been for years! Can we even be separated?”

(We do not know,) it answers, sounding… completely lost. (We have never had a host before you, so we know not if we could even be separated. Or what will happen to you should it come to pass.)

“So… you’re saying I could die if they pull you out of me.”

(It is entirely possible.)

As the words sink in, you feel fear.

And not the fear you felt for years while you were trapped in Wayne Manor, where you were constantly looking over your shoulder as you shuffled through the endless halls and past every corner before you entered a room for fear of attracting attention or running into one of them.

No, this fear is similar to the kind you felt when you were kidnapped by those three thugs and beaten within an inch of your miserable life before having a bullet planted in your head. It’s what you feel not because of what will happen next, but because you have no idea what will happen afterwards. Back then, you had a feeling you weren’t going to walk away from the kidnapping and after that phone call, any hope you had on seeing another day vanished into thin air and you were afraid of what would happen when everything was said and done.

Would death be like sleeping? Would you just close your eyes and never wake up? Would you know time has passed, but be unable to distinguished between ten minutes and eight hours?

Or was there an afterlife, complete with heaven and hell? And if so, which one would you end up in? Sure, you weren’t religious, but you thought you were a decent person, so surely you’d be allowed to enter heaven. And maybe see Momma again?

Or, if you did end up in hell, how would it differ from your time at Wayne Manor?

Maybe reincarnation did exist and you’d come back as another person. If that were the case, it’d be nice to end up in one of those fantasy worlds you saw in anime, where the protagonist was reborn with magic powers stronger than anyone else’s (and maybe end up with a harem of hot guys).

Or maybe it would it all just end? Like turning off a TV or when a toy’s batteries run out of juice. You’d die and your body would just decompose in whatever shallow grave those three would give you and the world would go on, uncaring about your death and millions would go about their lives like you never existed in the first place.

Of course, none of that happened and you’re so grateful to the Megamycete that you’re still here and were able to return to your beloved childhood home like you dreamed about. And you’ve lived these last four years without fear or a care in the world.

Now, you’re filled with that same fear. Would it even be possible to separate you from the Megamycete? And if so, what would happen to you? Just go back to being a regular human that requires food and sleep and can sick from just about everything?

Or would something else happen to you? And if so, what?

(We cannot allow them to separate us,) the Megamycete hisses. (We must kill them all! We can only be free when we bathe in their blood!)

You know that the conflict between you and the Bats has been building to this moment and their unyielding obsession killed any possibility of this ending peacefully, but to know that moment is now upon you, when you’re at your most vulnerable.

Yes, you’ve fantasized about killing them for years and have daydreamed for hours about subjecting them to the most gruesome torture methods you have in your vast archive of knowledge so they could feel even a fraction of the pain and misery you had to go through for years.

But, after Alfred’s betrayal, do you have the strength to go through with it? Can you really do what must be done?

��Is there no other way but to kill them?

(Do not allow doubt to cloud your mind. They have shown that they will never let you go, no matter how much you struggle against them. They do not care about their past transgressions against you, nor do they care about your current wishes. All that matters to them is their own selfish desires, which is to drag you back to their fold and imprison you in their twisted delusion of a “family.”

(You must do this. This is the only way you can be free.)

It’s right. They need to die. They’ll never give up until they have you in their clutches and strip you of your wings. They forgot about you the moment you entered their lives and now that they remember you, they won’t rest until they have back in their disgusting excuse of a family.

Also, their deaths won’t just deliver you your freedom, it’ll also finally close the darkest chapter of your life. With their deaths, you can finally move on with your life.

“You’re right,” you say, standing up and withdrawing all the tendrils back into your body. “It’s finally time to end this.”

(We are with you, Y/N. No matter how this ends, we will be with you until the end.)

Yeah, one way or another, all this ends today.

You climb out of your window and create the strongest mold armor you’re capable of and a pair of wings and take flight.

Your destination: the place where it all began.

Gotham.

Bruce looks up at the Batcomputer’s monitor, his vision blurry from lack of sleep and constant blue light exposure, but the month of nonstop research was worth it.

“It’s finally done,” he says, getting the attention of his children who are preparing to go out on patrol. “I finally found it.”

“Is that it,” Dick asks as he walks past to him, looking at the monitor displaying a complex chemical formula.

“Yes,” he answers as he orders the chemical synthesizer to begin creating a solution according to the formula he just developed. “The cure to Y/N’s affliction.”

Ever since the fight in the Mojave and the collection of a blood sample, he’s been working nonstop to develop a cure that would purge the Megamycete from your body and make you normal again; it took countless hours and cost a fortune in various expensive compounds, but he’s finally found something that will target the mold polluting your body and destroy it.

The only drawbacks are that his countless previous attempts left him with enough resources to make one vial and the only way of testing the cure is by injecting it into you.

Sure, the simulations he ran showed the Megamycete being destroyed by the cure, but he has no idea what it’ll do to you as a whole. What little original blood he had in his sample showed some parts having no effect while others had an adverse reaction. There’s just too many variables to really know what the cure will do to you as a whole. You could be alright if somewhat weakened by the loss of the virus, or you could be left hospitalized.

It’s then he feels a dark part of his mind react strongly at the thought of you being confined to a bed for an unforeseeable amount of time. You wouldn’t be able to escape and be unable to turn away their love.

Of course, he’d never wish for anything bad to happen to you and he’d be devastated if you lost that healthy complexion you obtained in that godforsaken backwater town, but if you were bedridden, then he could wake up every morning and feed you breakfast by hand and your siblings could spend time with you without having to worry about your attempts to fight them (of course he’d have to draft up a schedule about who can be in your room at what time and how long they can spend in there, as well as rules about getting extra time and consequences for violating said rules).

He knows you had to become independent during your time here (he hates himself so much for ignoring you for over a decade) and your independence has only strengthened since you moved to Nevada, but it’s time for you to come back home and let them take care of you. The world is a dangerous place full of dangerous people who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you.

You need to be back here where it’s safe and let them shower you in their love.

The synthesizer beeps and he walks over to the machine and takes the syringe from it, looking at it like it’s the key to everything (which is practically is for both him and his family).

With this, his family can finally be whole again.

Now, all that’s left is to find a way to get to you so he can inject it…

Just then, the Batcomputer lets out an ear piercing alarm, it’s screen displaying some kind of alarm that he’s unable to see from where he’s standing.

“Report,” he shouts as he runs over to the computer.

“Alert from Wayne Tower,” Tim answers as he sits in the chair and frantically types on the keyboard. “Something big’s attacking it.”

Something’s attacking Wayne Tower? What could it be, all of Arkham’s most dangerous are secure in their cells and he hasn’t heard of any robber planned from Gotham’s underworld or beyond.

So what could it—

Tim establishes a link with the surveillance system at the tower and displays five different camera feeds, all of which are showing massive and seemingly endless mold tendrils busting through floors and crashing through walls.

“The Megamycete,” he says, completely awestruck at what he’s seeing.

Tim switches to another camera just in time to see a figure in mold armor burst through his office doors.

His heart stops at the sight. You had come back to Gotham.

Sure, you’re attacking his company’s headquarters and making an absolute mess of the place, but you’ve come home. He looks down at the syringe he’s clutching in his hand and knows he has to seize this opportunity; Gotham is their home and they have the advantage here, so if there’s a time to use the cure, it’s now.

He watches as four mold tendrils emerge from your body and shoot out in different directions, breaking the various knick-knacks and decorations he has on display, crushing his priceless solid oak desk and desktop, and smashing his windows before retracting the tendrils, sprouting a park of wings, and flying through the ceiling, where you come to rest on the roof, clearly waiting for something.

Waiting for him.

“He’s calling you out, B,” Jason says, his eyes completely fixated on the monitor. “Gotta admit, I’m proud of him. Like, he just wrecked your shit and now he’s waiting for you so he can kick your ass. Kinda debating on joining him.”

“If you aren’t going to be helpful, Todd, you know where the exit is,” Damian retorts while rolling his eyes before looking at him. “What are we going to do, Father?”

Jason’s right, you wouldn’t be doing this unless you came here to fight. And if you’re looking to fight, it means you’ve most likely come to settle things once and for all.

He feels a dread surge through his body and he’s nearly knocked off his feet by it. In the past, they were the ones to come to you and all their attempts to bring you back home were met with defensive measures. You’ve never once brought the fight to them.

So, if you’ve come to them, it means this is the end and tonight can only end one of two ways.

Wither they win and you’re purged of the Megamycete and they bring you home.

Or you win and…

“Bruce?”

Dick’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he sees his children looking at him, waiting for his instructions.

He may not be the best father, but he’s trained his children to be the best they can be and he’s so proud at the men and women they’ve become today. He has no doubt that they’ll do everything they can to win and bring you back home.

“He’s clearly here to fight,” he finally says. “We go there, he won’t hold back N’s we have no way of knowing how it’ll go down.”

“We don’t need to win, Bruce,” Steph says, pointing down to the syringe he’s holding. “We just need to get close to use that. But, we’ll still gonna win.”

“Brown is right, Father. We’ve faced far worse than some sentient parasitic mold and have prevailed. This will be easy.”

“Hate to agree with the brat, but he’s right,” Jason jokes. “That thing’s got nothing on us.”

“We need to get that thing out of him, Bruce,” Dick adds. “It’s time to bring him home.”

His children nod in agreement and his pride in them grows even more.

“Well then,” he says, walking towards his suit, his children rolling close behind. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

“Gotta admit, it felt great to do that,” you say as you command roots to make their way through the center of the tower and up to you. “Even if things don’t go our way tonight, at least people will remember what we did.”

(While we agree with your joy in vandalizing the tower, we find your lack of faith in our victory disturbing. Do you doubt your skills that much? Or our ability to keep you safe?)

“No, I don’t. But we’re going to be fighting against all of them and they probably have a routine all polished and rehearsed for fighting against people like us. Even you have to admit our odds aren’t the best looking.”

(We will admit, we will be fighting against them all on their own territory and they no doubt have some plans to work together to overwhelm us. But remember, you are better than all of them combined. You are fighting for a just cause: your freedom and for justice for years of transgressions committed against you. They are fighting to sate their own selfish desires and to rid themselves of their guilt.)

Just then, the roots show them nearing the tower. And to you.

(They draw near. We would expect no hesitation or mercy from them. We advise you to return the sentiment.)

“Don’t worry, I won’t. They’ve had this coming for years.”

(Regardless of how this ends, just know we are forever grateful for having spent the last four years with you. Out of the many people we have encountered throughout our existence, we have not met another like you.)

“I promise we’ll win. And when we do, we’ll finally be able to move on with our lives.”

It’s then the Bats land on the roof in front of you, all of them spread out so they have you surrounded.

That’s almost laughable.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” you mock as you withdraw your mold helmet. “Though, I thought you’d be here way sooner. Guess after all this time, you still can’t find the time for me.”

Of course, all of them have been trained to repress their emotions, so their faces remain expressionless, but you can tell your statement cut them deep.

“Y/N, please,” Dick says, stepping forward by two steps and his arms spread out like he wants to hug you. “Just stop this. We can go home and use the serum B made to get that thing out of you. And when you’re back to normal, we can be a family.”

You feel your blood go cold at Dick’s plea. You knew Bruce would try to make something to purge the Megamycete from your body, but to know they finally came up with something makes you incredibly uneasy.

Just what would happen if it’s purged from you? Would you go back to how you were before? Or would you die without it?

“Y/N,” Bruce says, breaking you out for your thoughts. Like Dick, he approaches you like you were some startled animal. “I know I messed up with you. When you came to me, you lost your mother and were taken away from everything you’ve ever known; you were scared and grieving and needed a father to hold you and tell you everything would be alright, but I wasn’t strong enough to be that for you.

I was too wrapped up in my own grief and anger to see I was throwing away something very beautiful: my firstborn son. You needed me and I failed you in every way possible.” You notice his voice begins to waver a little bit. “If I could go back in time, I’d beat my past self to a bloody pulp and tell him to do the right thing. We may not be able to get the time we lost, but we can still have so much time together.

He holds his hand out. “Please, son, come home with us. We’ll get that thing out of you and when you’re fixed up, we’ll give you all the love in the world. You’ll never want for anything or be alone ever again.”

His words resonate in your head and the area goes so silent that a pin dropping would be as loud as an explosion.

Then, you start laughing.

And it becomes louder.

And louder.

Even with their masks on, you can tell you’re freaking them out as you’re now laughing how Joker did before you silenced him for good.

“You really think I’m that stupid,” you say as you’re bent over from laughing so hard. “You really think some pretty words and promises of never leaving me alone will make up for what you all put me through? For all the years of loneliness? For completely forgetting that I exist? For hurting me?

“You’re not doing this because you want to make me a part for your family, you’re doing this because you all feel guilty and you hate it. And because I, a lowly peasant, dare walk away from Gotham’s royal family! Admit it, you’re so used to people tripping over themselves to even get a glance from you and the thought of someone wanting nothing to do with you keeps you up at night! I should be on my knees, right? I should be thanking you for this opportunity and swearing to do whatever you want if it means getting even a second of your time!”

“No, Y/N,” Tim begins to say. “We—“

“Shut the fuck up,” you screech, making them all jump slightly in shock. “I fucking hate you all. I loathe you. I despise you. I wish nothing but the absolute worst for every single one of you and pray that your final moments of life is nothing but suffering before you’re dragged to hell and spend all of eternity.”

It’s then several tendrils emerge from the edges of the roof and slowly curl above you, forming a dome that blocks all light, leaving you all in darkness, but the Megamycete gives you the ability to see in the dark and you know those masks of theirs have night vision functionality. You command the mold within you to form twin arm blades and four tendrils emerge from your back and you reform your helmet.

“This is the end, assholes! After tonight, you’ll all be dead and I can finally move on with my life.” You can’t help but laugh at their shocked faces. “Don’t pretend you didn’t know this is how it was going to end! You were given every opportunity to leave me alone and let me live my life, but your delusions have gotten us here! You’ve all made your decision, there’s no going back now!”

“Brother,” Damian begins, but you cut him off my surging forwards and swiping at him with your twin blades.

Naturally, he counters with his own sword and you command the tendrils to lash out at the others, forcing them to retreat lest they get hurt by your attack and you command additional tendrils to emerge from the dome to keep them busy; it’ll be much easy to kill them when they’re separated.

The bastard’s good, you can admit that, but you have the minds of countless people coursing through your head and an intense inferno of hatred burning brightly in your body, so you put him on the defense no problem.

“All those years bragging about how you were hit shit,” you snarl as you take another step forward and he takes another step back. “Never once thought I’d be a match for you, huh, demon?”

“Brother, please—“

“You know, I never did return the favor when you gave me that scar when we first met. Here, allow me.”

You have a very small, but very nimble tendril emerge from your shoulder and shoot out towards Damian and just as he goes to cut it, the tendril cuts his face at the same spot he cut yours with his sword; the cut isn’t fatal, but it’s deep enough that it’ll scar and that’s more than enough for you at the moment. Blood starts to flow from the wound and when he drops his guard in response to it, you deliver a strong kick to his abdomen, sending him flying towards the other side of the mold covered arena.

“You bragged about being the Wayne heir and how I was nothing but ‘the bastard born of a dalliance with a low class whore.’ Well, looks like this bastard is about to end your fucking life!”

Of course, just as you’re about to do the deed, you’re interrupted by Bruce, who slams into you with his full body, sending you flying.

“Alright, you wanna die first, that’s fine by me,” you growl.

Unlike your fight with Damian, you decide to do this with your own hands, so you throw several powerful punches, but the motherfucker manages to duck.

“Y/N, stop this! You’re hurting your family!”

“You call this collection of dysfunctional misfits a family,” you mock with a laugh. “They aren’t your children, Mr. Wayne, they’re the next generation of you. I spent years under the same roof as you and watched as you molded them to be just like you. You have nothing to offer but loneliness, paranoia, and an obsession of some perverted sense of justice! Admit it, you’re incapable of feeling real love!”

You can tell you’ve touched a nerve because he flinches just enough for you to grab him by the throat and begin to strangle him. He grabs at your arms to try to break free, but you’re too strong for him.

“You’re about to die at the hand of your biggest mistake, Mr. Wayne,” you mock as you sprout wings and begin to hover above the chaos below you. “Don’t worry, your brood’s be joining you soon enough.

You feel something hit your back and explode, severing your wings and sending the two of you tumbling to the ground below. You lost your grip on Bruce, which allowed him to back off, and you turn around to see who had the balls to deny you revenge.

“Should’ve known it was you, Tim,” you growl at the bitch. “You’re always sticking your nose in other people’s business.”

You go to lash out at him, but you feel something hit your back, but instead of a normal explosion, this one was an explosion of freezing gases, making you scram in pain as your body is frozen in place, leaving you unable to move.

(Hurts,) the Megamycete hisses. (Hurts! Hurts! Hurts!)

You can’t help but yell in pain as you feel the cold creeping into your body and slowly shutting it down; while most of your armor is encased in the ice, your helmet is exposed and it crumbles, leaving you exposed to the Bats that have you surrounded.

“Alright, Y/N,” Bruce says as he takes out a needle from his belt and approaches you with it. “This will get rid of that thing in your body. Once it’s gone, we’ll bring you back home and get you looked at.”

You can’t help but look on in horror as he stands in front of you and brings the needle closer to your neck so he can inject you with fuck knows what.

(You must do something! If he does this, we have no idea what will happen!)

As the needle comes close to your exposed skin, your mind is flooded with memories of your time during at Wayne Manor and visions of you being dragged back to that damn place and doomed to spend the rest of your life surrounded by the people you hate most and forced to take part in some twisted delusion of a “family.”

And, past all that, is the time you spent with your Momma and you’re overcome with sadness and loss, wanting nothing more than for her to be with you. No matter what the problem or how bad your day was, she always seemed to make everything better.

Is this how it ends? Did you soar to close to the sun with your new life like Icarus did and now you’re about to pay for it? Were you always doomed to be intertwined with the Waynes, unable to exist outside their shadow?

Were you doomed from the start to live in misery?

#from gold to mold #yandere batfamily #male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily #batman #dc x male reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere dc #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere stephanie brown

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sitepathos · 1 month ago

Text

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 11

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

In the end, you didn't tell Duke what you were.

It was cowardly of you, perhaps. Disrespectful of Duke's person. But when you looked straight into his eyes and remembered the boy you protected back then, remembered how he hadn't forgotten you either and now chatted with you so happily...

You didn't want to–sully it? Ruin it? By telling him how now you were a beta too. You didn't want to stop chatting like this, you didn't want to start empathizing with Duke over how awful it was to live as a beta in this world, you didn't want to put Duke at risk for knowing what you were.

But you didn't want to lie to him either, so in the end you asked Duke, "Actually, I'm... Well, I kind of miss you? Can we... if you don't mind, can we hang out, from time to time?"

Duke looked a bit surprised, then abashed, then eventually–pleased. He beamed. "Sure thing! It'd be great to hang out with you again, Reader!"

The two of you traded smiles, followed by phone numbers. Starting that day, you and Duke began to hang out–only from time to time, considering you still had to prepare and Duke himself had his own thing to do, but whenever you couldn't meet you still messaged or called each other.

It was nice.

It was fun.

It was, unbeknownst to you, the last month you could spend peacefully before the worst happened:

The Waynes found out.

The Wayne pack did not care about you.

For the past nine years, ever since they knew of your existence and you came to live at the manor with them, all the pack members from that time and subsequent ones had displayed their lack of care for you openly. Shamelessly. Guiltlessly, as neglecting you wasn't a wrong thing to them.

But when Bruce summoned his chosen children to the manor for a pack meeting concerning you, they all turned up.

Damian returned from school as soon as class ended–although that was his regular habit. Tim shambled down the stairs from his room where he'd been sleeping off the high of solving three cold cases. Jason arrived accompanied by the loud revving engine of his bike. Dick burst in at the last minute, hair askew despite still looking as though it had been artistically arranged that way, before all but throwing the whole length of his body on a chaise.

"This better be super important, B," groaned Dick, half-muffled into a cushion. "Oh my God. When I meet whoever it is has been leaking all those stuffs I'm gonna kiss them. Kill them. Both. Either. Oh my God I'm tired."

"We do not kill," reminded Bruce. Dick flipped him off.

"We do not talk about Reader at pack meetings either," added Tim evidently without thinking, judging from how he winced after blurting that out. Though the way Damian glared and flashed a knife his way likely also contributed.

Jason snorted. "So what's this about, B? The pup finally bit off more than they could chew, or did they chew your handmade Italian leather shoes?"

"Refrain from equating my sibling's behavior to a dog, Todd," Damian snarled. Jason sneered and opened his mouth likely to provoke Damian, but was cut off by Alfred coughing pointedly.

"If you two young gentlemen would be so good to listen to Master Bruce's answer, please?"

A mumbled sorry Alfie and similar sounds were uttered by not only Jason and Damian, but also Dick and Tim. Bruce observed all but one of his children and felt a mixture of fondness and pain.

Fondness for his children. Pain for you, who somehow had been overlooked by everyone in the pack including himself.

But not anymore. Nevermore, Bruce swore to himself.

He spoke, "It has come to my attention... at the very least, that I have been neglecting Reader."

A series of frown answers him.

"You, Bruce?" Dick paused, rising from his prone position on the chaise. "...I might have been the same. In my defense, well. You guys know what is happening in 'Haven right now."

Tim nodded, hesitantly adding, "I've been trying to talk with them these past few months, but... I never did before..."

Jason scoffed, but self-consciously averted his gaze. "I took it for granted you'd take care of your biological kid yourself, B. I–the me from–before, wouldn't want to discover how welcome he'd be. And after... Eh." He shrugged, still not looking at anyone.

Damian alone looked at his brothers one by one, clearly confused in spite of the forbidding scowl on his face, before directing his gaze to Bruce in disbelief.

"Am I meant to conclude that you not treating Reader as pack member was not deliberate?"

Everyone exploded at that. Bruce reeled despite remaining seated on his armchair.

"Gods, Dami, of course it wasn't?!"

"Hold on, hold on. You knew?"

"Old man!" Jason snapped, eyes now flashing fiery and green at Bruce. "Tell me you didn't!"

Bruce slowly blinked once, twice, like a man concussed. His face pale and his voice hoarse when he finally spoke, "Yes, Damian. I didn't–sincerely, I didn't notice."

The disbelief on Damian's face was now mixed with anger and disgust. "So you are telling me," he intoned, "that I could have laid claim on my blood sibling from the start?"

"You were going to...?" Dick's voice faltered as a thought struck him. "Guys," he called, "who assisted Reader back when they presented?"

Tim, Jason and Bruce traded uneasy glances with each other. Bruce paled even more at this and hurriedly sought Alfred, silently pleading that at least his always-reliable butler, his sole caretaker after his parents' passing, his pack omega had been there for you when no one else was.

His heart sank when Alfred pressed his lips and refused to meet anyone's eyes.

Dick began to tremble. "Nobody did? None of you did?" He whirled towards Bruce. "B, how could you?! You know how dangerous a first heat can be! You told me all about it when you sat through my first heat!"

Tim shrank into his seat, palm over his horrified face. His brain very likely going at mach speed at the implication and various possibilities while his mouth was only able to mutter "Oh my God, oh my God–"

Bruce himself seemed to be experiencing the same thing as Tim, before he belatedly realized something odd.

"Heat?" Bruce looked back at Dick, bewildered. "Dick, Reader is an alpha."

"They're what?"

Not only Dick, but Tim stopped at that. Jason blinked the green off his eyes, confused as well, but in opposite direction.

"Of fucking course kid's an alpha? They snarled at me when I–hold on." This time, it was him who turned to Bruce. "Hey, B, did you know Reader is attending Park Row High?"

"They what?"

"Attending Park Row fucking High. According to their files, they'd been there since freshman year. They're a junior now. I confronted them about being there in Crime Alley to keep an eye on me under your order or something, and they told me you probably knew nothing about it."

Tim all but leaped to his laptop, fingers rapidly clicking to hack your academic files. Meanwhile, Dick shook his head, unable to come to terms with the concept of you being an alpha instead of an omega like your mother.

"Reader is not an alpha. They never said they were–" Suddenly he stopped, realizing that you never explicitly said you were an omega either.

But. But if you weren't an alpha... or an omega...

"Tt."

As Damian clicked his tongue, for some reasons everyone fell silent. Even Tim paused his hacking to look at Damian, whose eyes swept the great room and all its occupants with condescension before he went on,

"I don't care what my sibling is. Now that I know I did not need to wait until I become pack alpha, I shall claim Reader as my beta."

A literal bomb could not stun the rest of the pack more. They either stood or sat still, stupefied. Until an alarm set to their respective phones or other devices suddenly rang, alerting them to an even more urgent matter.

An Arkham breakout.

Despite the alarm blaring through the whole city, you remained rooted to your seat, earphones on from when you listened in on the Waynes via the bugs you made yourself.

You still felt the figurative icy water down your spine hearing Damian state his intention for you. Your hands shook. Your eyes stared without your brain registering anything. You had no idea how many times in a minute you thanked fates for deciding to plant those bugs and make the program to alert you exactly for a situation like this.

Had you not done so, had you cluelessly been there...!

Blindly, you groped for an inhaler. You wheezed to yourself, remembering how you thought that had to be excessively prepared of you to get an inhaler alongside the rest of your med supplies. Dimly, you wondered if you were dissociating.

You had to leave. Run away. Hide? Fake your death? The timing was perfect actually, what with Joker out there.

You wheezed again until you choked. For a brief moment, you scolded yourself for not having the forethought to prepare a fake corpse to dump. Was this a panic attack?

Wait, you heard them speaking again.

"–suit up."

"Robin, you're with me."

"Red Hood–"

"I'm fucking peachy, Nightwing. Shut it."

Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a freaking minute.

All those names–weren't they...? But wouldn't it mean the Waynes–legally your family members–were the vigilantes of Gotham?

You hadn't even finished wrapping your head around the idea when you heard something else. Something almost as terrifying, actually.

The window nearest you shattered by the swing of a crowbar. With a stifled gasp you rolled away, arms shielding your face from the glass shards. Before you lowered them, you could already tell who it was from their speaking.

"WHAT'S THIS?! A LITTLE BIRDIE FALLING OUT OF THEIR NEST! C'MON, BIRDIE, LET'S PLAY A GAME WITH UNCLE JOKER!!! HAHAHAHA!!!"

A/N: *evil dramatic music intensifying*

We're getting to the climax, folks! Brace yourselves, I predict about three to five chapters left!! This one is kinda rushed in pacing I think but hopefully you guys still like it. Please send asks and replies to motivate me! 🙏

Btw in case it was unclear, the scene with Duke in the first half happened on the FIFTH month mark right after Damian left Chinatown. So reader still had one (1) month left with Duke before the Batfam found out in the second part on the SIXTH month mark. Yeah yeah I know it was unnecessarily complicated, my bad 💕

Also catch Alfred trying to avoid confessing he had been deliberately neglecting reader lmao

P. S. Question. Does the tag still work if it can't be clicked? Like it's just the name with the @ symbol, does it still work or is there a limit to how many people I can add to the tag list?

Taglist: @randomlyappearingartist @bellethesleepypotato @nirvanaxx1942 @tenswife @galaxypurplerose @shycreatorreview @cupid73 @time-shardz @mikusamsan @simpingpandas @kore-of-the-underworld @elmichi0 @mirabilis-polaris @farsketch @altumsomnum @hai-there-how-are-you @vanessa-boo @ashjade19 @yandere-enthusiast @a-lurking-fae @hyperfixatedcatlover @leeiasure @luckynemi @lowkeyjarrr @lunoorbonoor @deathbynarcisstick @tacendxx @staarflowerr @anonlikesfics @magical-panda2 @whognuthis @arwenyukiamoto @hon3ydewcaram3l @lilyalone @jazzyspaceghost @teabutnerdy @bunbunbread @darktrashpoetry @conqcakes @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @unrelatedlily @ciatin @ratchetprime211 @mybones537 @anonasatoruu @vikkus-main @shqyou @sitepathos @ee-1ovelifedownthedrain @totallynotacat13 @ratterpatter @hayourdadgon @justannie18 @jungkooks-tiny-waist @holderoflostmemories @woodscranesbill @neverdead2 @iansimpsforeveryone @numbu5 @eas-kat @hanz-176 @alishii @holyfishbailiffpeanut @type-ink @mysh-lynnn @juskonutoh

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

Give y/n his harem of men 🗣‼️‼️🙏

Sorry, unfortunately, you won’t be getting your harem in the From Gold to Mold verse. I’m afraid the stars just won’t align for that to happen.

But, I do have an announcement while we’re on the subject.

Since we’re so close to the end of From Gold to Mold, I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do afterwards. I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting to get so popular when i first started posting stuff. I started out just making CoD x HP stuff that I daydreamed about once and couldn’t get it out of my head and the next thing I know, I’m creating a Yandere Batfamily that so many people love!

It’s amazing!

But, lately I’ve been thinking about a new original series, but there’s two things that are keeping it in limbo.

One: since it’s essentially gonna be homoerotic, I’m not sure if many of you are gonna go for it. I mean, it’ll be a vast departure from what I’ve written so far.

And two: I’m aiming on making it mature, and I’m not sure if our Tumblr overlords will appreciate it.

But, let me know what you guys think. If you want it, let me know. If you’re interested, let me know and I’ll put together a little preview and post it. And if you’re not into it, let me know.

Seriously, I love getting feedback. It sustains me.

#asks

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

Will the Batfam be more open to Omega reader having a mate if it was with one of them? Since they're all about keeping him in the pack by all means, what better way that having him mated to one of them?

Would they go as far to consider that??

Oh yeah, pretty much EVERYTHING is on the table when it comes to Omegaverse, from Alpha parents mating with their Omega children to Alpha siblings mating with their Omega siblings, uncaring about the birth order or age gap.

And I mentioned Tim in one of my Omegaverse posts because while all of them would probably think of claiming you as a mate so they could bring you back to the manor, Tim would absolutely be the first to think of it and would already be drafting plans.

Seriously, this guy’s never even heard of personal space, so he’s immediately researching everything about you he can get his hands on, from analyzing what little was left behind in your old bedroom to studying the code of your video game. If it’s relating to you, he’s examining it to hell and back before putting it in the file he has on you on his computer under heaviest guard. He even buys all your Momma’s books ever wrote and reads them all three times, writing notes and highlighting entire paragraphs.

And you can bet your ass that once he’s ready to put his plan in action, he makes it known in the most public way possible. Probably when he’s being hounded by reporters on his way to Drake Industries.

“Mister Drake, do you have anything to say regarding your treatment towards your pack’s only Omega?”

“Only that I’m ashamed that I was too stupid to see that I was living with a treasure many would kill and die to possess and I wish to make amends with Y/N. Starting by announcing that I intend to begin courting him, starting today. I can only hope that he can find it in his heart to forgive me and give me a chance to prove my love for him.”

As expected, the entire world loses its shit once the news begins to circulate. For years, the media has asked each Alpha of the Wayne Pack when they intend to court an Omega and many have made it clear that they wish to be courted by the Waynes, but they always find a way of evading the question or saying they have other things they must attend to before they can court an Omega before excusing themselves, but now, a member of the Wayne Pack is publicly showing interest in an Omega and intends to court him!

Of course, it does not take long for you to hear about it and you are pissed!

You don’t even want to be in the same state as these people and now one of them is wanting to become your mate.

Before you know it, you have media outlets from all over Nevada and the surrounding states surrounding your house, taking pictures and yelling questions at you from the curb as you attempt to get in your car.

Of course, you’re not the only one pissed as everyone in the Wayne Pack loses their shit once they hear about it.

Bruce knows that if this succeeds, you’ll be back home, but he’s still your father and your Alpha (if only in his own delusional mind), so he sees Tim courting you without his permission as an insult and the two get into a fight once Tim gets home, but Alfred manages to separate the two of them before it gets physical.

Dick is angry that Tim would say such a thing in public. They’re a pack and such things should be discussed before doing something that can’t be undone. Also, he sees himself as your older brother, so the thought of someone showing any sort of interest in you is enough to make his hackles raise.

Barbara isn’t sure how to respond to the news. On one hand, she thinks this is a fast of way of bringing you back home and into the pack. On the other hand, however, she thinks it’s an underhanded and shameful tactic that no one in their right mind would ever consider (what does she expect, this is the Waynes we’re talking about).

Jason is fucking furious when he hears the news and plans to shoot both Tim’s kneecaps the moment he sees the bastard (Alfred puts a stop to that quickly). To him, you’re a person first before an Omega and you should be allowed to choose who you want to court you and not have some Alpha fuckhead decide from you. But… there’s a part of him that wishes he had thought of it first.

Steph laughs for a full ten minutes once she sees the news and the fallout that happens because of it. She lives for drama and this promises to deliver drama that she never thought she’d see in her wildest dreams. Of course, she’s pissed that Tim is using such sacred and action like courting to bring you back home and while she wants nothing more than for you to be back at the manor, she plans on giving Tim hell until everything’s said and done.

Cass knows this is probably the most efficient way to bring you back home since Omegas are required to accept an Alpha’s offer of courtship due to centuries of tradition, but she’s angry that someone like Tim is courting someone like you. She knows the two of you have nothing in common and you hate them enough to try to kill them, but if this brings you back into the pack, so be it.

Damian is planning to slit Tim’s throat in his sleep (although that might take a while since the guy practically never sleeps). You are a member of the Wayne bloodline and the thought of someone like Drake thinking he has any right to court you and knot you like some shameless mutt is repulsive to him. Besides, according to League tradition, your life is his thanks to him cutting you with his sword the first day you met (he regrets his actions everyday, but if it works in his favor, he’ll bear the guilt) and if anyone has the right to court you, it’s him!

With Tim courting you, you can expect multiple gifts to be delivered to your house on a daily basis (seriously, every delivery service in the state of Nevada hates you) and each gift falls into one of two categories: something you expressed interest in buying but choose to wait or something related to your interests.

For the first category, Tim is actively monitoring your internet activity; you wishlist a game on Steam, you see it’s already been bought for you an hour later. Or you look up a book and you have everything that author’s ever written on your doorstep. Or even researching what brand of headphones is best and every brand you looked at is being delivered to you by the end of the day.

For the second category, he’ll buy you anything that’s even remotely related to your interests. And he’ll go so overboard. For example, you have a favorite Pokémon? Well, now you have every plushie of that Pokémon available on the Pokémon Center, no matter how little or how small it is.

And of course, he’ll make regular visits to Nevada so the two of you can be seen in public. You can flip out, scream, hit, and threaten him all you want, he’ll still look at you with love in his eyes and a sincere smile gracing his face (that you begin to daydream beating to a pulp).

#from gold to mold #asks #alpha batfamily

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

I am curious: since From Gold to Mold reader can shapeshift, couldn’t he sell everything he knows to Lex for a pretty penny, discard all his bugged electrics, etc then shapeshift, travel to country A, shapeshift again, repeat that a couple times and end up assuming someone’s identity somewhere far, far away from the sickos the Batfam?

Hmmm…

You MAY see that at the end of the series…

But who can say?

I know I can’t.

#from gold to mold #asks

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

You know, each time reader from gold to mold thought of himself as an "average looking" person, is he aware that he's basically calling his ma the same thing? Cause it was mentioned a few times that he's taken his ma's genes more than Bruce's lol

Well, you know what they say: you are your own worst critic.

After years of neglect at the hands of the Bats, your sense of self-worth is pretty much nonexistent, so you can’t see yourself as anything that would catch anyone’s eye. Also, keep in mind that everyone in the Wayne Family is gorgeous, like all of them could be on the covers of various magazines. Spending most of your life surrounded by people like that while being completely glossed over, it wouldn’t be that out of the question to view yourself as unattractive.

Also, your Momma had confidence that made up much of her attractiveness. She held her head up high in life and was determined to provide for both you and herself, making her very attractive in people’s eyes. Unfortunately, your confidence was crushed over the span of thirteen years during your time at Wayne Manor.

You see similarities between you and your Momma, but you think all her attractive traits skipped you, leaving you with enough so that you tear up when you look in the mirror.

The Megamycete has told you many times that you are attractive and even offered to help you change your appearance so you can change how you look to whatever you want, but you’re adamant on staying how you look. By staying the way you are, some part of your Momma lives on.

#from gold to mold #asks

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

OH DEAR AUTHOR!!!!! PLEASE UPDATE FROM GOLD TO MOLD AND I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL!!!!!!

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 13: The Talk

(A/N: I humbly accept your offer! With your soul in my possession, you feel slightly more empty than normal!)

Warning: this chapter will feature self-mutilation. Read at your own risk.

Alfred suppresses a sigh as he looks upon Master Bruce and his children crowding the Batcomputer, obsessing over the readings of the sample obtained from you that night in the Mojave Desert. When he, Master Dick, and Mistress Cassandra returned, Master Bruce refused to be confined to the infirmary, determined to analyze your blood as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

Then again, given the family’s obsession with you and their desire to bring you back to the manor, that might very well be the case.

When he reviewed the footage of the fight, Alfred was blown away at just how… ferocious you’ve become. Yes, he’s heard how every interaction with your father and siblings has gone, but he’s always excused that as years of unreleased anger and resentment coming out now that you could do so safely.

But taking a chunk out of your father’s arm? That took a rage he thought you incapable of.

However, unlike your family, he doesn’t think this “Megamycete” is controlling you; that night it came to visit them has stuck with him and while it’s a bit bizarre to converse with sentient fungus, Alfred really believes the two of you have formed some sort of symbiotic relationship (although he still wishes you were never put into a situation where you needed such a thing in the first place).

While he never admitted it, he noticed your behavior prior to you departing the manor had changed drastically. For most of your tenure at Wayne Manor, you walked through its halls as if they were a minefield, inching slowly as though the slightest misstep would lead to tragedy, and avoiding any room where Master Bruce and the other children were in. During your final days, however, you walked as though you had nothing to fear, uncaring if Master Bruce or any of your siblings were to discover you.

And then there’s your appearance, starting with the disappearance of the scar Master Damian gave you when the two of you met (oh, how his heart aches at how the events of that day unfolded). At first he just thought you found a way to hide it using some kind of concealer, but now he knows that the Megamycete must’ve healed you.

Of course, you look completely different now compared to four years ago, but he doesn’t think your transformation can be solely attributed to the Megamycete. For years, you suffered in the halls of the manor, forced to rely on an old man for company and learn to move about silently so as not to attract the attention of the rest of its inhabitants, so it would make sense that the toll of that kind of emotional and psychological stress would affect you physically.

Now, after living in Goodsprings and being away from them, you have a far healthier glow to you (although that could also be due to Nevada’s regular exposure to sunlight versus Gotham’s constant gloom) and carry yourself with a kind of pride he never expected of you.

And when he saw your speech at the award ceremony, he knew you were truly happy with your new life.

On one hand, he’s happy for you. You lost your mother at such a young age and it happened so suddenly that you weren’t able to say goodbye; on top of losing the only parent you’ve known, you were dragged to the other side of the country to live in a place you’d most likely never heard of before to live with a father you’ve never met before. And to top it all off, you spent over ten years living in a place that made it clear you weren’t welcome, that you were only here due to a legal obligation and not love.

If there’s anyone in the world that deserves a happy ending, it’s you.

But, on the other hand, he can’t let you go.

Out of everyone in the Wayne Family, you’re the only one who’s had a normal life, thus bringing a much needed balance to the manor; you’re a breath of fresh air to the eccentricity of his charges.

And, like it or not, you are a Wayne, therefore making you a member of the family. You belong here, in Gotham and with them.

With him.

And he thinks he knows how to bring you back home… or, at the very least, get you talking to them.

You glare at the blank notebook on your desk as if it had insulted your good name and debating on stabbing it a mold tendril with enough force to puncture both it and the desk it sits on.

(Doing that will not solve your current dilemma.)

“I know,” you whine before throwing the pen on the notebook and slouching into your chair. “But it’d be the only idea I’ve had and it would make me feel better.”

The problem you’re currently facing is coming up with your next game. Sure, Salvage Rights is still going strong and the Lost Paradise DLC has been received well, but gamers today are always looking for the next big release (you’ve had countless people flooding your business email asking about future games) and if you don’t keep your players satisfied, they’ll go back to CoD or Fortnite.

And while you’re proud beyond words about Salvage Rights and its success, you didn’t get into making video games just to be a one-game designer. Ergo, the brainstorming session that is currently kicking your ass.

Should you keep making visual novels? It’s the type you’re most familiar with and it has a charm no true gamer can deny.

Although, you’re more than capable of designing 3D models and a 3D game would appeal to more people.

But, it all depends on what your new game will be about, hence why you’re angry at the notebook with only the words “New Game Ideas” written at the top of the first page. You’ve been in here for almost three hours and the only thing you’ve done is look up obscure YouTube videos you watched years ago that popped into your head while you attempted to work.

You have an archive full of the ideas, memories, knowledge, and experiences of countless people throughout the ages and you’ve come up with exactly zero ideas.

(You should not force yourself to do this,) the Megamycete says in a calming tone. (If you do, you will continue to have no success and any ideas you do have will not be as well-thought of as and will fall apart the moment you begin to work. The right idea will enter your mind when the time is right.)

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sigh. “I’m just getting more pissed and it’s not helping me.” You stand up and begin to make your way to the exit. “How ‘bout we binge watch some anime and pig out on junk food?”

(We wish to watch one of those ‘isekai’ anime you watch. We find the concept of being in another world fascinating.)

“Sure thing, buddy,” you say with a chuckle as you make your way to the kitchen and begin grabbing random junk food and bottles of soda and water with your mold tendrils.

While you’re not the biggest anime watcher in the world (you consider yourself more of a casual anime fan more than anything else), you absolutely devour anything isekai; you discovered it during your time and Gotham and the thought of being transported to another world full of magic, fantasy creatures, and adventure and having the most powerful abilities in said world appealed to you almost as much as making Salvage Rights.

Hell, you wished to be transported to a magical world for your birthday for three years in a row before you finally accepted the hellish reality that was life in the Wayne Manor. While being in such a world was great on its own, the thought of being in such a world with a harem of attractive men plagued your daydreams at the manor, at school, and at work.

(It would have been nice to be in such a world,) the Megamycete says as you plop down on the couch and begin pulling up your anime streaming platform on your tablet, your junk food and drinks scattered across the table.

“Guess we’ll have to make do with anime,” you say as you scroll down the list of anime.

(Wait,) it says just as you’re about to select a series. (We are about to have company.)

“Company,” you repeat, confused. “Who is it?”

(It is them,) it responds, its tone full of hatred and resentment.

There’s only one reason the Megamycete would speak like that.

You patch into the roots surrounding your house and sure enough, it’s the Waynes. Specifically, all of them.

“That’s not company, it’s an infestation,” you growl.

You get up and storm over to the door, mold tendrils at the ready and your bloodlust already threatening to boil over.

“Why can’t you assholes leave me the fuck alone,” you growl once you throw open the door just as Bruce stepped onto your porch, hand raised to knock.

“Now, now,” a familiar voice says in response. Your eyes widen when the merry band of misfits parts to allow Alfred through. “Is that any way to greet guests, Master Y/N?”

Your breath hitches and eyes mist up at the sight of the man you consider a grandfather. While you have no regrets leaving Gotham and returning to your home in Goodsprings, you’ve missed Alfred since your graduation night and have thought about inviting him for a weekend visit on more than one occasion.

“Alfie,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper and not caring that the people you hate more in the world know about your nickname for the butler that you came up when you were six.

You move a little so you could hug the man, but quickly remember the “audience” around you.

“Please, come in, Alfred,” you say once you recover, stepping aside to allow the man entry, mold tendrils emerging from your body.

Alfred begins to move, but the instant you notice Bruce trying to enter, you quickly move to block his entry. “Not you. No one but Alfred is allowed in my house.”

“You call this hovel a house,” Damian asks, looking up at your home with visible disgust in his eyes.

“Get the fuck off my property,” you growl, your tone leaving no room for argument. Damian looks to his father, as if he had commanded him and not you. “Don’t look at him, I’m telling you to leave.”

Bruce gives him a nod and the little demon relents, returning to the luxury car parking in front of your house.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, returning your attention to him. “There’s no need to be rude. I’m confident I raised you better than that. Surely there’s room in your home for all of us.”

You do your best to suppress the flinch at the butler’s words. Yes, Alfred was the one to raise your during your time at the manor, reinforcing your Momma’s lessons on being polite and courteous, but the thought of these people being anywhere near your house makes you want to puke up your guts and use them to strangle all of them.

“I’ve missed you ever since I left Gotham, Alfred, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting them in the house my Momma raised me in and that I thought about for years. Don’t make me choose between my love for you and my hatred for them. I promise you won’t like the outcome.”

He looks at you and you return his look, the butler clearly mulling over your words before saying, “Alright, if that’s what it takes for us to talk.” He turns to the others crowding around your porch. “The lot of you will wait out here and behave yourselves.”

“Alfred,” Bruce starts to say as Alfred moves towards your door.

“That warning applies to you, too, Master Bruce,” the butler says in a tone akin to that of a parent scolding a kid, which almost makes you laugh, but you suppress the urge, determined not to laugh in front of the people you hate most in this world. “Shall we go, Master Y/N?”

You stand aside to allow Alfred in and throw one last dirty look at the pests on your lawn before slamming the door shut and commanding mold tendrils to emerge from the ground and cover your front door before countless spike-like thorns extend from them, making the message very clear: stay out.

“Your house is quite lovely, Master Y/N,” Alfred complements as he takes a look around, making you swell your chest out in pride. “I can see you take care of it.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” you say as you motion to the living room. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?”

“A cup of tea, would be lovely if you have it.” He makes his way to the living room before sitting on the sofa, but not before he glances at your supply of junk food and soda. “Honestly, Master Y/N, I know I raised you better than this. Please tell me you haven’t been subsisting off this garbage since you left the manor.”

“No, I eat lots of things,” you retort as you prepare a kettle with earl grey, thankful you keep a box of the butler’s favorite tea just in case he ever dropped by for a visit. “All that is for an anime binge watching marathon I was about to do before you surprised me.”

“So you’ve been eating healthy and nutritious home cooked meals since you left the manor?”

You freeze up at the thought of the all the take-out and fast food you’ve gorged on since coming back to Goodsprings; sure, you’ve cooked at home many times… if you count frozen pizza, instant ramen, and microwave meals as cooking.

“I thought as much,” the butler says after a moment of silence. “Honestly, Master Y/N, you’re as bad as your father and siblings. Lord knows what they’d consume if I left them alone for a month.”

The comparison makes your blood boil and it takes every last ounce of willpower you have not to command the mold underneath your house to lash out at the pests outside in anger.

“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, Alfred,” you say, some of your anger leaking into your tone. “The Megamycete has the knowledge and experience of countless people, many of them skilled in the kitchen. If I wanted to, I could prepare a five course meal that would make even Gordon Ramsey look incompetent.” The kettle whistles and you quickly take it off the stove, pour some into a mug, and make your way to the living room. “Plus, the Megamycete provides everything I need; I could eat nothing but fast food for a month and I’d never gain any weight or get sick.”

It’s true, the Megamycete sustains your body, making food and water completely unnecessary, so you can go the next hundred years without any kind of sustenance. Although, could you really call life without a burger and milkshake “living?”

“Besides,” you add, placing the mug on the table in front of Alfred before sitting in your favorite chair. “I’m nothing like them. They may be able to go toe-to-toe with people like Bane and Killer Croc on a nightly basis, but they’re complete disasters in the normal world. Hell, I saw Bruce treating tying his tie like defusing a bomb, sweat and all!”

It’s true, your status as the Ghost of Wayne Manor gave you plenty of opportunities to witness such embarrassing moments, your favorite one being watching Bruce struggling with his tie for ten whole minutes before he finally admitted defeat and called for Alfred to help him with it. To see the “mighty” Bruce Wayne be defeated by a mere tie… it put a smile on your face for the rest of the day.

“I didn’t mean any offense, Master Y/N. I have every confidence that you can successfully manage a household and the proof is all around us.” He looks around the living room to emphasize his point before looking at a framed picture on the table next to the sofa. “I take it this is you and your mother?”

The picture is you and Momma at the fall festival the town holds every October. Specifically, it was the last festival you to went to before she…

“Yes,” you answer, breaking out of your depressing line of thinking. “That’s us at the fall festival Goodsprings have every year. It has a pumpkin patch, hayrides, games, and tons of food.”

“It sounds lovely,” he says, gently placing the picture back down. “She looked like a lovely woman. I can tell she loved you and you her.”

“Yeah,” you say, eyes falling to the carpet as you start to think about what little memories you had of her. You lost her when you were so young, so there’s very little actual memories you’re able to recall, making even the smallest recollection more valuable than gold.

“Master Y/N,” the man says, his tone making you look up at him. “I’m so sorry. For your mother’s passing. Losing a parent is never easy, but losing one at such a young age is nothing short of horrific.”

“It’s fine, Alfred,” you answer, trying your best to dam up the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the bastard that decided to drive drunk and slammed into her car. She’s been gone for years and I made peace with the fact that she’s never coming back.”

“But I’m also sorry about how you were treated during your time at the manor. You’re Master Bruce’s firstborn son and you had every right to be there as the rest of them did. No matter what the reasoning, there’s no excuse for their behavior. I should’ve put an end to it when you first arrived.”

(His words ring of sincerity, but they come too late.)

As much as you hate to admit it, the Megamycete’s right, he should’ve said all this years ago when you could still be convinced they were capable of love. After several years and many scorned attempts to reach out to them, you’ve realized the Wayne Family is full of sick and broken misfits who should be locked up in Arkham.

You open your mouth to say something to reassure the poor man, but you quickly realize that you have an eavesdropper. You connect to the roots to see Tim hanging just by your living room window, which faces the front of your house.

With a mere thought, a tendril emerges from beneath the soil and behind the little creep and whips him away from the window before he can even react, Tim letting out a yelp as he flies through the air and lands near the parked car. As the rest of them gather around Tim to help him up and provide whatever protection they think they’re capable of, you decide to add insult to injury and flex the tendril in a way that it looks like an upraised middle finger, telling each of them to fuck off before you command the tendril to return to the soil, holding in your laughter as each of them have a slack jawed expression on their faces.

“But most of all,” Alfred says, bringing you back to the room you’re physically in. “I’m sorry for what happened that night. You were put into a situation you never should’ve been in and we… I almost lost you. Ever since the Megamycete told us what happened, not a day goes by that I curse myself for being away. I assure you had I been at the manor and learned of your abduction, I would’ve tore all of Gotham apart until I found you and brought you back to the manor. And rest assured, those thugs would’ve never hurt anyone else after I was finished with them.”

“I know, Alfred,” you say.

And you do, knowing the man is like Jason Borne, James Bond, a Lara Croft had a baby together and said baby was trained by John Wicke. You can remember seeing the frankly shocking amount of weapons in the butler’s room many years ago and when asked, he said: “Those are to protect the manor and all of you should anyone be foolish enough to break in.”

To be honest, you were surprised that Bruce allowed Alfred to have such an armory given the man’s no-gun rule, but everyone knows that Alfred is the one who really runs Wayne Manor and if the butler wishes to stockpile guns for a zombie apocalypse, then there’s nothing the “World’s Greatest Detective” can do about it.

“And you don’t have to be sorry about that. It wasn’t your fault those three dicks decided to kidnap me and it sure as hell wasn’t your fault that they didn’t save me.” You can feel your anger beginning to rise again. “They didn’t care about me in the first place and left me at the hands of those thugs!”

The memories of that night rush your mind all at once, from the mocking tones of Bruce and the others to the pain the leader inflicted on you.

(And how can you forget being thrown into a cavern in the middle of the woods,) the Megamycete hisses. (You were discarded like trash into a grave no one would ever find, your body left to rot while they would be allowed to live!)

You can feel as numerous tendrils emerge all around your house and the point their massive thorns at Bruce and his bastards, threatening to turn them into Swiss cheese, and despite their defensive postures and reaching for weapons hidden in their clothes, you know you have a high probability of killing them all.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, bringing you out of your hate-fueled trance and back to the living room.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, you recall the tendrils back into the ground. As long as Alfred’s here, you’ll set aside your plans to tear them to shreds and paint Wayne Manor with their blood… for now.

“You have every right to be angry, Master Y/N. You never asked anything of them in the years you lived with us and the one time you reached out, you nearly died. Such behavior is inexcusable.”

“Alfred,” you say with a sigh. “Why are you really here? I appreciate the apologies, but I know you didn’t come here just for that. If it was, you would’ve come alone, or at least told them to stay away while you visited.”

“I had hoped you would allow them to make their apologies in my presence. I know they all came here, one after the other, but they were more determined to bring you back home.”

“But I am home, Alfred,” you respond with a sigh, dredging where this conversation is going. “This was my home before I lost Momma, it was the place I called home when I was in Gotham, and it’s my home for the past four years ever since I graduated. Gotham was never my home, Alfred, and that damn manor sure as hell wasn’t a home, let alone my home!”

“I know how you feel, Master Y/N, I truly do! But—“

“‘But’ what, Alfred? There is no ‘but!’ You know how they treated me! For years, I was either invisible or a nuisance, but I was never family to them! Hell, I wasn’t even someone they tolerated! To them, I was a stain that they couldn’t get rid of, so they just ignored me until I was wiped from their collective memory!”

“But they know they wronged you and wish to make amends.”

“I don’t fucking care what they want! I’m finally back home and doing what I’ve dreamed of doing and just when everything’s going my way, they come in and try to take it all away!”

“But Gotham is your home, Master Y/N,” the butler responds, making you go silent. “I know you only wish to acknowledge your mother’s side, but you are a Wayne as much as you are a Gould! Gotham is the city of the Waynes and it’s where you belong.”

“No, it’s not,” you shout, your voice making the room shake and you feel as multiple mold tendrils burst out from your back as you struggle to contain your anger. “I never belonged there and if it wasn’t for that drunk fucker, I never would’ve been dragged there! It’s the City of the Damned that no decent person with even half a working brain would live in!”

The two of you stare at one another, the only noise in the room being the sound of your taking short, rapid breaths to replenish the breath you lost from your angry rant.

“Am I decent person,” he asks after a while. “Do I belong in that ‘City of the Damned?’”

At first, you wanted to say no, that he’s a kind man who doesn’t belong in a place as terrible as Gotham.

But, there’s a part of you, composed entirely of anger, hatred, and pain, that wants to say yes.

For all the help Alfred gave you, he also enabled Bruce and the others to ignore you and treat you like shit; at any point, he could’ve put his foot down and forced them to give you the bare minimum of attention most children need, but it never happened.

Hell, he was often in the living room watching movies and eating delicious food while you were left in an abandoned part of the manor upstairs, the only thing keeping you company was the sound of your muffled cries and vague memories of a better time, where Momma was still alive.

“I think,” you finally say as you retract the tendrils into your body, your breathing returning to a semi-normal level. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“What,” he asks, his eyes wide like saucers.

“It’s time for you to go, Alfred,” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument.

You stand up and he does as well, but when he makes no move to walk to the door, you gently but firmly grab his arm and walk him to the door.

You’re not surprised to see the peanut gallery when you open the door, knowing they were all listening in the entire time, even though Tim was the only one who made it obvious and you’re even less surprised to see Damian standing on your property again, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing that matters is putting an end to this.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says as you move him outside the door and begin to close it. “Please, come home! I waited since the day you left for Master Bruce and the children to notice you were missing! When they didn’t, I had to take matters into my hands.”

You freeze, the door half closed, as the words sink in.

Take matters into my own hands.

What did he mean by that?

No…

It can’t be…

There’s no way…

He wouldn’t…

Right?

“What,” you respond as you open the door, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Master Bruce and the children learned of your departure when they discovered my laptop in the kitchen, your game running and the title music blaring for all to hear. I engineered that so they would eventually learn of your career as a game developer; from there, they would realize you had left the manor after graduating high school. I knew their sense of justice would do the rest.”

His words hit you harder than that thug and based off the looks Bruce and the peanut gallery have on their faces, they’re just as shocked as you.

Bruce looks especially shocked, which makes sense as no one ever thought Alfred could be capable of such manipulation.

“So it’s your fault I have to deal with these assholes again,” you say after finding your voice. “If it wasn’t for you, they would’ve still forgotten me and I’d be living my life in peace!” You feel tears streaming down your face, which is now molten hot. “Why, Alfred? Why do that when you know how I felt about them? Don’t you remember all the times you held me in your arms while I cried my eyes out about how they treated me?”

“Of course I do,” he responds, his eyes visibly glossy. “I remember every last tear you shed because of something they did or something they said. But I set all this in motion so you’d eventually be brought home. You’ve belonged at the manor since the moment you were born and I’ll be damned if all members of the Wayne Family aren’t together.”

“You did all this because you’re selfish and want me to live somewhere that made me miserable for years just because I happen to share DNA with this bastard?” You gesture to Bruce, who gawks like an absolute idiot. “I… I hate you.”

All of them, Alfred especially, gasp and their eyes go so wide they look like they’ll pop out of their sockets. Hell, you’re even surprised by your own words; saying that you hate Alfred left an extremely bitter taste in your mouth and you’re actually wanting to take it back.

(Do not,) the Megamycete hisses, clearly pissed beyond words. (He knows the transgressions they have wrought against you and he still orchestrated the reunion of the people who have brought you nothing but misery ever since you were a child. He has betrayed your trust and should never be forgiven for this!)

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, clearly upset by what you said. “I—“

“I hate you,” you say again, louder. “I hate you ! I hate you! I hate you!”

At this point, all your control and restraint has been destroyed and you don’t attempt to fight it when a tendril emerges from your back and whips the lot of them away from your porch, sending them tumbling onto your lawn.

Your chest is heaving as your anger and sadness fill your entire body until there’s nothing left but those two emotions.

You thought there was nothing worse than losing your Momma, but being betrayed by the man you’ve trusted and depended on for years is a close second and for a moment, you’re six-year-old again, completely helpless as your world crumbles beneath your feet and you’re once again completely alone.

Alone. That sounds like the perfect solution to this problem; if you’re alone, you can’t be hurt anymore and you can completely fall apart and not give these heartless bastards any satisfaction.

Plus, you spent the first part of your life all alone. You’ve been alone since your sixth birthday, so it’s nothing new to you. In fact, you’ve come to appreciate solitude.

You command countless mold tendrils to sprout from the ground and surround your house, covering it to the point where you can’t see the paint.

“Stay away from me, all of you,” you say, your voice cracking while you fight with the last of your mental strength to keep from completely falling apart in front of them. “This is your last warning. Next time I see any of you, I’ll rip you apart, and I won’t give a shit where we are. Do you hear me? I’ll fucking murder you!”

And with that, you turn around and step back in your house, a tendril shutting your door and covering it so no one can enter.

Once you know your house is completely covered in tendrils to the point even a chainsaw won’t be able to cut through, you head up to your room as fast as you can manage in your current state. Thanks to the tendrils covering the windows, it’s pitch black in your room, but you’re more than capable of seeing thanks to the Megamycete.

You shut your door, knowing you most likely cracked the frame from the force of it, and fall to the floor and put all your weight against the door, all your strength gone and your willpower extinguished. You still in the dark, the only noise being your choked sobs.

All you can think about is how betrayed you feel in this moment by the one person on this planet you thought would always have your back.

Alfred was the only thing that kept you going after losing Momma and living in that fucking manor surrounded by the most distant, paranoid, and emotionally-stunted people on the planet.

Once again, you’ve lost the one person who was closest to your heart and you feel like it’s you against the world.

(It is ok,) it says to you in a calming manner. (It is just us. You can fall apart.)

And with that, you allow the soul-piercing sobs to emerge from mouth at maximum volume and tears the size of pearls fall from your eyes.

But this isn’t enough. The sobs and tears aren’t enough to vent the frustrations and sadness you feel in this moment and you look down at your Star Wars shirt, which is barely a step above rags due to the tendrils you’ve created in the last half hour, which has completely destroyed the back of it.

Deciding to write it off so you can properly express the deep sense of helplessness you feel in this moment, you create talons on both your hands and dig into your torso, ripping both the shirt and your flesh, sending scraps of cloth, bits of flesh, and splashes of blood onto your carpet. What remains of your rational mind tells you that you’ll have to replace the carpet and destroy the old one to prevent anyone from finding out what’s happened, but you don’t care.

Right now, you’re hurting and all you want to do is express that hurt in the only way you can think of. Sure, it’s not healthy in any definition of the word, but you’re able to heal from the injuries, so it’s not like you’ll have to deal with any consequences of what you’re doing.

You pierce your talons into the center of your chest and rip it open, blood cascading down your body and pooling around where you’re sitting, and reach into your chest cavity, past your rib cage, until you find what you’re looking for: your heart.

With another sob, you rip the organ out and hold it out in front of you, the little thing still beating despite there being nothing to pump blood into.

One would think ripping out one’s own heart would be a pain unlike any other and seeing it before one’s very eyes would be an extremely frightening sight, but in this moment, you feel nothing. After all sadness, loneliness, and disappointments you experienced for the majority of the last fourteen years, you barely registered the sensation of your heart being ripped out of your chest by your own hand.

Am I incapable of feeling anything but sadness and anger, you think as you look at the organ in your hand, perfectly fine without it being in your body. No matter how fast or how far I run, I’ll never be able to escape the hold those people have on me?

And with that depressing thought, you squeeze the organ until you hear a sickeningly wet splat! and it burst like a balloon, coating your hand in blood and dripping onto the carpet. You allow your hand to fall to the floor and what remains of your heart reassimilating into your hand as your torso begins to stitch itself back together with a new heart eventually emerging and beating as soon as it was complete.

Ever since you became the host of the Megamycete, you’ve noticed that you don’t have the same bodily requirements you once did; you eat despite not feeling any sort of hunger, drink despite not feeling any sort of thirst, and sleep despite never feeling any sort of fatigue. It didn’t take long to realize that the Megamycete provides everything you need, eliminating the need for food, water, and rest and despite its wishes, you often took advantage of this, forgoing eating and sleep for weeks at a time so you could finish the goal you set for the development of your game.

Now, however? You feel like you have no energy left in your body that even lifting your head feels like a Herculean task right now. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, you have nothing left in the tank.

(Rest. Today has been an extremely draining day for you. You need to regain your strength. We will keep watch over you.)

You lean your head against the door and close your eyes, falling asleep immediately.

Bruce looks over to Alfred, who’s sitting in the seat next to him.

Ever since leaving your house after the… incident, he’s been completely quiet and emotionless, despite his and his children’s attempts to get through to him.

Even now, on the jet, he remains silent, but it doesn’t take a world class detective to figure out he’s completely devastated by what just happened. He can tell that he cares about you very much, which isn’t that hard to see why since you weren’t trained in crime fighting and detective work like them, so hearing that you hate him would be similar to a death sentence for Alfred.

“Alfred,” he says, holding the man’s hand in his own. “Y/N didn’t mean that, he was just angry at us for what we’ve done to him and he was taking his anger out on you.”

“He has every right to hate me,” the man says, his voice hoarse from tears not shed. “I should have done better while he was growing up, but I didn’t and now I have to bare the consequences of my failures.”

“We’re gonna bring him back, Alfred. We’ll find a way to beat that damn mushroom in his body and bring him back home. And when we do, we’ll show him the love we should’ve when he was growing up. We’ll make things right… I’ll make things right. And then we can be a family.”

Alfred say nothing and Bruce can feel the weight of this failures quadruple.

I’ll find a way to fix this. I have to. I’m his father. I need to make this family whole again.

And come hell or high water, he’ll bring you back home or die trying.

#from gold to mold #yandere batfamily #male reader #batfamily x male reader #batfamily #batman #dc x male reader #yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere dc #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere alfred pennyworth

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Note

When are you coming back king 🗣‼️‼️🙏

I’m still here, everyone!

Sorry, school and family business has taken up a bunch of my time the last few weeks, but my schedule’s clear and I’ve resumed work on the draft of the latest chapter of From Gold to Mold!

In fact, I’m working on the ending and I’m fairly confident that it’ll be out later today (don’t ask for a time, I’m struggling with the ending something fierce)!

And here’s a bit of news for you all: after this chapter, I have one mini chapter planned (I may release it within the next few days, idk) and then we arrive at the endings! We’re nearing the end of the series!

And as a reminder, per the results of the poll, the ending where you win will be released first before the Batfam Victory ending.

Please bear with me and I promise I’ll deliver!

#from gold to mold #asks

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sitepathos · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! I hope you’re doing well!

If I wanted to write a fic with yandere batfam and neglected reader, and include the megamycete from resident evil, would that be okay if I tag you and link your fic as inspo?

Gasp, you want to use my work as inspiration!

That makes me so happy, I actually wanna cry!

Yes, I’d be honored if you wrote your fic and included the Megamycete and tagged me and my work! I look forward to reading it!

Also, I’ve been meaning to post an update for a while, so here it is: the next chapter of From Gold to Mold is in development, but with finals right around the corner and my Capstone presentation being on Monday, I haven’t had the chance to work on it. But, as soon as everything is done, I promise I’ll get back to it. Thank you all for your patience and understanding.

In the meantime, I hope you all continue to enjoy what I’ve posted so far and continue to send me asks. I may not answer any of them right away, but I always see them and always think about how to go about answering them.

#from gold to mold #asks #yandere batfamily

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sitepathos · 5 months ago

Note

I was thinking since mushrooms release spores could Gould reader be able to just turn the batfamily into fungus zombies like I'm the last of us

You could, but you won’t.

To be infected with the Megamycete is to be a part of you; when the Megamycete infects something, it assimilates everything, from DNA to memories, and adds it to its archives.

And there’s no way in hell you’re spending the rest of eternity (or however long you have) with their memories swimming around in your head.

#yandere batfamily #from gold to mold

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sitepathos · 5 months ago

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I keep thinking. because the Omega reader grew up around Alphas and was treated horribly by them for years, what if he feel uncomfortable and unsafe around them and couldn't help but feel negative about them. It also doesn't help how omega's are seen. I'm sure the reader will meet a lot of creeps in his four years in Vegas after his body allowed his second gender to show.

Also Alfred, the only one who took care of him is the only beta in the Wayne pack. So what if the reader's mate was Beta. Or even an Omega?

Here’s a birthday present from me to you guys! Happy 24th birthday to me!

That’s actually a very realistic look and not entirely outside the realm of reality.

Yes, you know that not all Alphas are like the Waynes (mostly because the Waynes are totally batshit crazy), but years of neglect and mistreatment take their toll on even the strongest of souls and your wounds run deep.

Even with the Megamycete, you can’t help but flinch when you’re around an Alpha who gets angry, even if it’s not directed at you. Every harsh word or loud bang reminds you of being around people who treated you like shit and you begin to spiral, thinking you’re still imprisoned in the manor and hiding from the Waynes.

And while Vegas allows all to come and work and gamble, it hasn’t earned the nickname “Sin CIty” for nothing and it’s not uncommon for you to hear Alpha man comment on your looks and an Alpha woman to allude to what she’d do to you in bed. At first, you were a little flattered because the Waynes left you with no self-confidence and you liked hearing people liked what you looked like, but when it became apparent that they were acting on your Omega status, you quickly found ways to avoid going out.

Fortunately, Goodsprings is a small town that’s full of mostly older folks that try to look out for one another, so you always have a safe place to retreat to. Plus, it’s full of aging Betas who don’t really feel one way or another about you being an Omega.

Now, as for Beta and Omega mates, that’s when things get a bit tricky.

Since the dawn of mankind, Betas get together with other Betas and Alphas get together with Omegas; this is because Alphas and Omegas are able to react properly to each others’ ruts and heats and their scents. Sure, you often hear about Alpha-Alpha couples, but this is acceptable because Alphas have a need for dominance and conquest, so having sex with another Alpha can appeal to that need almost as well as having sex with an Omega.

But Omegas getting with Betas? Almost unheard of, but there’s been a few instances of that, but society is heavily mixed on that. Omegas getting with Omegas? Yeah, that’s a hard pass for even the most progressive individual because Omegas are submissive by nature, so outside of porn, no one’s interested in seeing that.

If you have a Beta as a mate, you can expect him to be kinda dominant, but not as much as an Alpha naturally is. Also, you can expect your heats to be very painful since he doesn’t have a knot, so you’ll have to find a work around, like using a toy.

Having an Omega as a mate? You can expect to have to hide your relationship with him because such a thing is frowned on everywhere in the world. If you’re wanting him to be the dominant one, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a dominant Omega as once someone presents as an Omega, you start undergoing Omega etiquette classes to prepare you for being the perfect Omega mate. If you want to be the dominant one, you’ll be spoiled for choice, but you’ll still be hard-pressed to find an Omega that wants to be with another Omega; in fact, if yo want to be with another Omega, you’ll probably end up being the dominant one since your upbringing led to you becoming an Omega unlike any other.

Now, for everyone’s reactions…

For Bruce, it doesn’t matter whether you’re with a Beta or an Omega, he doesn’t approve for you being with anyone. In his twisted mind, all you need is him and your siblings and anyone who tries to get close to you is trying to take you away from your pack and he’s not going to let that happen; you’re his son and Omega and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. He almost lost you once, he’s not about to let that happen again.

“Our pack is all you need, Y/N. A mate can always leave, but we’ll always be here for you.”

Dick hears that you have a mate? Oh, hell no, he’s going to Goodsprings and is bringing you back to the manor immediately. This guy is clearly taking advantage of you and he’s not about to let his precious baby bird be taken advantage of by some opportunistic Beta or clout chasing Omega! If you really need someone to be with, he’ll be more than happy to be by your side all the time, from cuddling you in your sleep to having you sit in his lap and being fed by hand.

“Baby bird, he’s clearly trying to use you! Come on, he didn’t even ask to meet with us! He’s going to hurt you and leave you all alone!”

Barbara immediately disapproves of any mate you have, regardless of his designation, because she thinks just like Bruce, that no one can ever be truly worthy of you and really, all you need is them. She’ll dig up so much dirt on him and bombard you with everything she finds, stuff dating back to kindergarten and even the most minor and ridiculous of infractions, like him cutting in line for snack when he was five. Also, she may be in a wheelchair, but she’ll sure as hell show up in person to scare the living hell out of him.

“Look, I understand that you want a mate, but you need to have some standards, Y/N. Just come home and maybe I can find you someone better and maybe convince Bruce to let you date him. Just remember that you’re our Omega first and always.”

Once Jason learns that you have a Beta mate, he’s immediately suiting up to beat the living shit out of the guy; and he’s not holding back just because the guy’s a Beta, in anything, he’s going way harder because that fucker should’ve known better than try to get with an Omega if he didn’t have any combat skills.

Now, if your mate’s another Omega, he hesitates. On one hand, he’s getting close with you and trying to take you away from the pack (from him), but on the other hand, the guy’s another Omega and Red Hood is kind to all Omegas. So, he’ll probably just kidnap you during the night and forge a note saying you’re leaving your mate and going home.

“Look, kid, I get that why you’d want someone else since we treated you like shit, but you’re still a part of this batshit crazy pack and it’s time you rejoin it.”

Tim acts just like Barbara, but he takes it to the EXTREME. Like, he’ll not only look into everything retaining to your mate, but everyone even remotely close to your mate, be it their original pack to a co-worker they interact with every fourth Friday of the month. Doesn’t matter how obscure the “discover” is, Tim will find it, put in in a PowerPoint showing why he’s unfit to being your mate, and present it to you like he’s in a board meeting.

Also, he’s not a huge traditionalist, but his upper class upbringing has drilled it into his head that Alphas and Omegas become mates and while he’s a bit of a modern thinker, he thinks you being with a Beta or another Omega is doomed to fail. If you really want a mate, perhaps you could allow him to court you?

Possible future installment?

“Honestly, Y/N, this mate of yours is doomed to fail you. Why don’t you let me bring you home and take care of everything for you?”

Unlike the other Waynes, Steph laughs her ass off when she learns you’ve taken a Beta/another Omega as a mate. Really, her laughter could be heard all over the manor and it only got stronger when she saw a few more grey hairs pop on in Bruce’s hair; she loves to be a menace to the pack and she actually wants you to teach her your ways so she can up her torture game.

Still, she doesn’t approve of him; not because of his designation or anything, she’s no prude. No, you’re a part of her pack and she doesn’t tolerate any outsiders trying to lure you away. She’ll go as far as harassing your mate in her Spoiler gear if it means making him leave you.

“Come on, Y/N, if you really wanna piss off Bruce, why don’t you just put bright green hair dye in his shampoo bottles. Wait, since you’re an Omega, you can get away with whatever you want! Oh, we can have so much fun together!”

Unlike her best friend, Cass doesn’t see anything funny about this; she looks at your mate and sees someone that’s trying to commit an unforgivable transgression on her pack: taking a packmate. While the title of Left Hand may be Jason’s, Bruce often tasks her to deal with things that require a more… subtle touch. And things that require no evidence left behind. To deal with something like this, Bruce doesn’t even have to tell her what she has to do.

Of course, “dealing” with your mate proves to be far more difficult when you meet her donned in your mold armor.

Damian is pissed off at so many levels about this; first at the thought of you being mated to someone because as the true heir to his sire’s legacy, it falls to him to find a suitable mate to produce a son and carry on the Wayne name, something you shouldn’t have to worry about. Second, his strict League upbringing instilled it in his mind that Omegas are only allowed to be with Alphas, just as nature intended.

This… thing you have with a Beta? It’s not meant to be since he lacks the proper biology to properly handle you.

And if you’re with another Omega? Well, let’s just say he’s not a fan and leave it at that.

He goes to Vegas, sword in hand, ready to cut down this interloper who dares lay his filthy, impure hands on you only to find you, mold sword at the ready.

Well, while he vowed to never harm you like he did when he was a child, he thinks besting you in battle should bring you back to your senses. If he defeats you in combat, you’re his to do with as he pleases, such as League law dictates.

“Brother, it’s up to me to carry on our bloodline. You needn’t worry about finding a mate and desecrating yourself to someone who’s obviously beneath you. Come, let’s return to the manor so our pack can be whole once more.”

Alfred’s truly happy for you; after all the years you suffered in the manor, he thinks you deserve someone who makes you happy. If it happens to be a Beta or another Omega, he really doesn’t care. But, as much as he hates to ruin what’s possibly the only healthy relationship someone in the Wayne Pack has been in, he stands with the rest of the pack in thinking you need to leave your new mate and return to them.

In his eyes, you were a part of their pack first (no matter the evidence to the contrary) and that means you need to return to Gotham and claim your place as the Wayne Omega.

“Not to worry, Master Y/N, things will be different this time. And if they’re not, I’ll take care of it.”

#yandere batfamily #alpha batfamily #omega male reader

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sitepathos · 5 months ago

Note

Ok regarding the alpha Wayne's! How would they react of y/n got a mate or found a pack to accept them?

Oh, sweetie, you must want people to pass away! The moment they learn you have a mate and/or a pack is when the gloves come off.

Ok, let’s look at just a pack. Let’s say in this scenario, you met an Alpha and a few Betas not long after you moved to Nevada and they found that you were highly compatible with all of them; you bond over similar interests, like video games, anime, manga, etc (you kept your identity as the bastard firstborn son of Bruce Wayne and the host of the Megamycete a secret from them) and your Omega side appeals to the Alpha’s need for dominance and the Betas’ need for someone to care for them. After a few weeks, they talk it over and present you with an invitation to join their pack. They promise that if you join, they’ll treat you with the respect you deserve and if you don’t want to join, they’ll act like it never happened and all of you can go back to hang out.

All Omegas yearn to be part of a pack, a place where they belong and feel safe, and you’re no different. You were trapped at Wayne Manor for most of your life and were constantly reminded that you’d never have a place in the prestigious Wayne Pack. The Megamycete doesn’t help with this as it records are filled with the memories of countless packs and you want that warm sensation of belonging and safety more than anything.

You agree and they all scent you, merging your scent with theirs and preparing a place for you at their house in Vegas (you’re allowed to keep your house since they know how much it means to you, but you spend the daytime there to work and maintain it while nighttime is spent at with your new pack at their house). As the next four years go by, you feel your decade-old wounds begin to slowly but surely heal thanks to your new packmates, all of them patient and teaching you what it means to be part of a pack and allowing you to decide the Omega you wish to be; you realize that for most of your life, you were freezing, and now with your pack, you know what warmth feels like and order how you were able to survive without it for so long.

Of course, after a year, when it became apparent that you could trust them, you told them everything; when you first met, you just told them that you lived in a place in Gotham so bad to you that you withheld on presenting as an Omega until you moved back home and they were so sympathetic and pissed on your behalf. Now, they knew you were the first biological son of Bruce Wayne and the “bad pack” you weren’t a part of was the famous Wayne Pack that so many would kill to be a part in.

Then, you revealed your connection to the Megamycete and all the powers you had at your disposal. At first, they were shocked and a little afraid, which you could understand; then, the unbelievable happened: they embraced you and said that they didn’t care what you were or who your father was, you were their Omega and they’d never let anything change that. Needless to say, you cried surrounded by the people you trust more than anyone else in the world.

Then the night of the Gamer Gala happened; despite not keeping in regular touch with Alfred, you gave him an invitation to the award ceremony and reserved a place for him with your pack. You wanted to show him the people you’ve come to call pack and show your pack the man that kept you alive during the darkest chapter of your life. Instead, they got to see the man whose face decorates the dartboard you have in the game room and see you hand the world’s richest and most eligible Alpha his ass.

When security came to separate the two of you, your pack came to your rescue and that’s when Bruce discovered that you’re the Omega of another pack.

Shocked. Distraught. Pissed. Denial. Bruce went through all these emotions, and more. He came here to beg for your forgiveness and to bring you back home so you could become a member of their pack and their Omega, but here, right in front of him, are these… interlopers, touching you, scenting you, comforting you in ways that only he and his children should be allowed to! You’re a part of their pack and these actions are solely theirs by divine right!

When he first approaches your pack, offers and threats in hand to make them give you back to them, he finds out just how much animosity you hold towards him when you jump on him and try to rip his throat out with your teeth. The growls that came out of you, the rage in your eyes, the bloody bite marks you left on his neck reminded him that while Alphas are the protectors of the pack, when push comes to shove, an Omega will fight tooth and nail and use every dirty trick in the book to protect their pack if they perceive a threat. While he’s happy and proud to see you’re willing to protect what you see as yours (something you both have in common), he’s pissed that you growl and bear your fangs at him, your sire and true Alpha, and that these people allow you to do such things when you should be kept safe and out of the fighting.

He refuses to admit defeat, he’ll take a variety of direction and indirect routes in order to take you back to Gotham, but you end up in his way, bearing fangs and clad in mold armor, ready to give him the Thomas and Martha Wayne Treatment.

Dick cries the moment he sees you with your packmates, smiling at them, scenting them, and bearing your neck at them. Those are things you should be doing with them, not those fakers!

But, he doesn’t blame you, baby bird! No, not at all! They ignored you and these monsters took advantage of you and tricked you into becoming a part of their sick and twisted pack! Don;t worry, he’ll deal with these monsters and bring you back home and cuddle you in your new nest!

Family is something Dick takes very seriously and to see someone he sees a part of his pack being taken away is an unforgivable sin.

As much as he wants to curb stomp them and take you into his arms and bring you back to the manor, he knows that he must do this in a more dignified manner, so he comes to your pack’s house in his official capacity, ready to lay out the “facts” and negotiate a way for you to be released into their custody. As the Right Hand of the Wayne Pack, he’s more than capable of handling such negotiations, allowed to offer whatever he needs to in order to bring the Waynes’ Omega back home be it money, job opportunities, properties, etc.

His signature dazzling smile was extinguished when one of your Beta “packmates” slammed the door in his face and he looked up to see you pouring a bucket of water down on him, leaving him soaked.

After that, he tries to approach your “pack” in public settings, like cafes and restaurants, but he’s quickly shut down each time, being told that they’ll never let them near you.

He decides being “polite” isn’t getting him anywhere, so he decides to visit your “pack” as Nightwing, determined to intimidate them or even put them into the hospital so he can come and “rescue” you from being packless.

That plan goes south when you tackle him in mid-air, clad in your mold armor. At first, Dick tries to convince you that there’s no need to fight, but when he sees all you want is to fight, he relies on his acrobat skills to evade your attacks and try to tire you out, but you manage to wrap a tendril around his ankle and hurl him as hard as you can into the Mojave.

(Un)fortunately, he manages to survive, but he’s forced to retreat for now until he and his pack can come up with another plan.

Barbara takes the news just as hard as the others, but she’s a bit torn about it. While she’s a legitimate member of the Wayne Pack as everyone else, she’s also a member of the Gordon Pack; she may see Bruce as a father figure and a mentor, she fiercely loves and is loyal to her actual father and Bruce would never take that away from her.

She understands that none of them treated you like a part of the pack and you were well within your rights to find another pack (she felt sick to her stomach when she learned that their treatment of you resulted in your presentation as an Omega being withheld), she’s just as deluded as the others and firmly believes that you’re their Omega and is just as determined to bring you back to the manor as the others.

While the others take more direct methods of bringing you back, she decides that the best way of getting you back will be to ruin your pack’s reputation.

Listing them as the most wanted on every law enforcement agency in the world, fabricating arrest warrants, scheduling them for trials, she does it all.

That falls through when you, with all your computer knowledge, not only deletes all of her work, but actually pulls a Reverse Uno on her, calling on the FBI to come and raid the manor, Wayne Enterprises, and her library.

She’s actually impressed at your capabilities and she’s be more impressed if you hadn’t also gone after her dad, making false reports of embezzlement and corruption, leading to her home being raided and her dad being arrested. Of course, the charges didn’t stick and he was let go, but going after her dad makes it personal to her.

She also didn’t like it when you used the Megamycete’s roots to damage both the library and the Clocktower.

To say Jason is pissed is an understatement; he’s angry at himself for being such a dumbass, pissed at Bruce for failing to be a decent dad again, pissed at your new “pack” for thinking they have any right to you, and even at you for replacing them.

He quickly squashes that last thought because he knows none of them could even be bothered to glance in your direction, so you didn’t “replace” them because the pack bonds were never there, so there was nothing to be replaced.

At first, he’s deeply conflicted at how to go forward with this because yes, he does want you back and wants to make amends and treat you like the precious Omega you deserve, but he knows how batshit crazy and horrible they all are and he understands that need to get away from them and be somewhere you feel cared for.

This conflict is short-lived, however, when his delusions win out and he joins the bandwagon on finding a way to bring you back to the manor.

He tries the direct route once; he approached you and your pack while you were out eating at one of Vegas’ finer restaurants to celebrate a successful night of gambling. It ended with you tackling him and repeatedly punching him in the face that you dislocated his jaw and gave him one hell of a black eye.

Anyone else, he’d be pissed, but you? He’s actually proud. He remembers giving you a black eye when you two first met (something that haunts him at night) and thinking you were some weak little brat. After being taken down by you? He’s sure you’re one of the strongest people he’s ever known and he wants to know everything about you.

(Side note: I had this thought after the first A/B/O Batfam post and I think I’ll use this opportunity to make it canon here: Jason is the Left Hand of the Wayne Pack. Dick is the right Hand, meaning he acts as the pack’s second in command and the first to assume leadership should something happen to Bruce; Dick’s also allowed to negotiate and make major decisions concerning the pack when Bruce sends him to act on his behalf. As the Left Hand, Jason is to deal with threats to the pack and seek retribution; he gets his hands dirty so Bruce and Dick’s hands remain clean.)

He decides to deal with your “pack” as both Red Hood and the Wayne Pack’s Left Hand. As much as he hates to do it, he intends to use your Omega biology aginst you; Omega’s get super attached to their packs and the sudden murder of all those assholes will send you into a depressive spiral and while you’re mourning their deaths, they’ll swoop in and bring you back to the manor. Chances are you’ll never be the same again, but he’ll be there to help you every step of the way.

That plan goes south when he finds you after breaking in, pointing guns at him. He may be an expert with all types of firearms, but you have the knowledge of expert marksmen throughout the ages swimming through your head, making you more than capable than him. He flees through a flurry of bullets. Under normal circumstances, he’d return fire and give his attacker hell, but his attacker in this case is his pack’s Omega, so he’ll fall back for now.

Tim is just as possessive as Bruce is; he comes from a high class family that takes its possessions seriously and doesn’t take lightly to them being “stolen,” especially because such inferiors. He’s not about to take this lying down and is ready to do whatever he has to do so he can have an Omega around him.

As is typical of Tim, he first delves into research, learning everything there is to know about these thieves. Within the span of a few hours, he has their entire lives memorized and filed into his personal server. Needless to say, he’s throughly unimpressed with all of them; they’re all ordinary and just one of millions around the world. The Alpha barely has any financial literacy and has no influence, so this pathetic little pack will always be mediocre. The Betas are even less impressive, with forgettable faces, minimal marketable skills, and no noteworthy talents.

Just what is it that makes you so attracted to them? Sure, he knows that their treatment of you was unforgivable and you should hate them, but come on Y/N, you’re a male Omega, for god’s sake! You’re a jewel many would kill and pay billions for! Did their neglect of you leave with you such low self esteem and sense of worth?

After a little more digging, he realizes that you don’t care about money or influence; while he’s seething with rage, he’s capable of seeing that they treat with you love and respect. They pull you into the living room and surround you while watching some movie you picked; include you in on every conversation, even if you don’t have anything to say on the matter; and scent you every time one of them passes you by or reaches for something.

It also helps that all of you share common interests, primarily video games and he hates them even more with that discovery. He’s played many games with the Titans and keeps up-to-date on all the latest news on games and studios; he’s more than capable of talking about games than them and would make a better co-op partner than all of them put together! And he’s more than capable for getting you the latest consoles and games way before they’re put on the market!

With each interaction, he thinks back to every gala, family dinner, and movie night they had and each one lacks any you being a part of it. Just how did you survive your time at the manor, constantly being reminded that no one wanted or even remembered you being there? It’s no wonder your Omega refused to present, chances are you would’ve withered away from the neglect.

Regardless, what’s done is done and he can’t take back what’s happened; he can only move forward and try to rebuild his broken bonds with you. And he can only do that if he brings you back to Gotham, where you belong.

Despite past failures, he opted to try the polite way; using his stalker abilities, he managed to meet with your pack at a restaurant while you were at your old home doing work and presented them with several options, consisting of large payments, guaranteed lifetime employment at any Wayne Enterprises or Drake Industries owned subsidiary, immediate ownership of any dwelling in the world they desired and assistance on all expenses, and many more.

They laughed in his face and told him you were a part of their pack and a true pack doesn’t treat a member like a thing to be bought and sold.

While he admired the sentiment and commended them for seeing your worth, he wasn’t about to let them get away with keeping you from your real pack. Like all Alphas, he’s capable of getting angry, but unlike other Alphas, his anger runs cold while other Alphas’ anger runs hot; while he is capable of physical violence and has quite the punch (a must in his job as a vigilante), his parents taught him that the real way to go after his enemies is to go after their reputation and livelihoods.

That’s how many of his fellow high society Alphas handled things, exposing hidden scandals and ruining businesses; say what you will, it’s incredibly satisfying as a person realizes they’ve lost everything and their name tarnished forever.

So, that’s how he goes about handling these inferiors and when they realize they have nothing, they’ll beg him for his deal and offer you up to them on a silver platter; either that, or you’ll realize you’re wasting your time with these pathetic wastes of space and look for another pack, giving them an opportunity to convince you to come home.

He goes about ruining the various businesses that your “pack” work at (how pathetic, they’re workers and not owners), but he finds that you’ve safeguarded everything behind thick firewalls, leaving him unable to hack and ruin their systems.

He then decides to ruin your pack bonds, planting seeds of doubt about your place as their Omega; for someone like him; it’s child’s play to fabricate false pictures of your packmates meeting with another Omega, fake texts and phone calls of them badmouthing you, and even planting articles of clothing with another Omega’s scent in their bags.

What he didn’t expect was for you to storm the Drake Industries building during a board meeting, clad in mold armor and wings, drag him out and hold him over the skyline, and tell him you knew what he had done and threaten him should he ever do it again.

Actually, your exact words were, “I know you’re a pathetic creep with no life of your own, Tim, and doing shit like this is something only you’d think of doing cause you can’t stand to see someone else happy. Get your own life and stay out of mine, or I tear your head off, shove it in jar, and send it to that freak Ra’s to keep next to your spleen.”

Ok, he wasn’t expecting you to know about that. Or about what words can cut him deeper than any blade.

Still, he learned something new about you. And with each new discovery, he comes closer to finding a way of bringing you back home.

Steph and Cass react the same way to the news: poorly. Both of them know that they never treated you like a packmates while you were still living here, but to just become part of some pack on the other side of the country is a little much for them to handle.

Steph is angry at the thought of just being replaced, actually forgetting that she did the same to you after a week of her living in the manor while Cass actually becomes depressed because she feels like she’s been abandoned (again), but she knows that she has no right to feel this way after she did the same to you.

The two of them partner up, aiming to take down your pack so that you have no one to turn to, but they quickly find out that you’re more than capable of taking them both on.

(Note: look, I know there’s barely anything here, but this post is long enough and I’ve stated before that my knowledge of Steph and Cass is minimum at best. Cut me some slack.)

Once the news reaches Damian, he becomes enraged and rushes to the Batcave some he can lash out at some poor training dummy with his sword.

It enrages him to no end to learn that his blood brother and pack Omega has not only become part of another pack, but a pack of inferior stock! Come on, brother, you’re of noble blood! Don’t sully yourself by associating with this common, low stock rabble!

When he begins to observe your interactions with you, his rage burns brighter and hotter. His skin itches every time they touch you; his teeth grind to a near powder every time you smile at them; and his eyes twitch every time you look at them.

And when he sees that you’ve created a nest in your room and allow them entry? He howls loud enough to call everyone in the manor to him.

An Omega’s nest is a sacred place, one that an Omega feels safe and secure, comforted by soft and plush things to nestle against their sensitive skin and lulled by the scents of those they trust the most; to be allowed into an Omega’s nest is an honor unlike any other and the ultimate sign of trust. All Alphas strive to be allowed to enter an Omega’s nest as there’s no greater measure of intimacy and trust before mating.

To see you bestow that privilege to these… pretenders actually brings tears to his eyes while he howls in rage.

He knew that the rest of his pack had failed, but that sight forced him to ignore his sire and go to that disgusting cesspit called Vegas and bring you back to your senses. Your proper place is at Wayne Manor in Gotham, not a pathetic little hovel in this hideous city.

He expected to be met with heavy resistance once the door opened, but he didn’t expect you to scruff him like some ill-behaved pup, pick him up by the neck, and toss him like some piece of trash and berate him for entire neighborhood of lowborn scum to gawk at. Yes, he acknowledges that his treatment of you was… less than stellar, but that doesn’t change the fact that you and him share blood and that ties you to both him and his sire.

Unlike the rest of his pack and Drake, he doesn’t bother to negotiate with those inferiors you call “pack” because he doesn’t see the need in asking for what’s his by rite of birth. You’re his blood brother and his Omega, no matter what the laws of that miserable little backwater say.

He decides the best way to make his sincerity known is by proving you with materials for your pack, which is a traditional League courting ritual; by providing an Omega with materials for their nest, you show them that your commitment to them is true and if they use your gift for their nest, it shows that the Alpha that they trust you enough to allow you into their most private of places (both literally and figuratively).

So, he uses his connections to purchase many blankets and pillows made of the finest silks from various luxury nest supply stores, both within Gotham and back in his homeland, all of it costing a small fortune. He intends to show you that only he and his pack (and even Drake) are capable of giving you what you truly need, what you truly deserve.

To say to cut his ego when you threw all his gifts into the fire pit out back and light it on fire is a gross understatement. He holds his mother’s teachings in high regard, especially about how he would go about courting and interacting with various members of his pack, and to see you reject his gift, reject him, hurts him far more than any injury he received during his training.

When he returned home after that, he quietly went p to his room and, for the first time in years, wept, the sting of being rejected by someone he now holds dear to heart making him feel lower than dirt.

Ok, that ended up being WAY longer than I thought. Now, let’s just briefly go over you having a mate. For this scenario, let’s say you met an Alpha in Vegas that doesn’t have a pack and when he saw you, he just had to court you and after seeing him treat you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, you decide to accept his courting offer. Sorry if you were expecting another short novel like up above, but this took way too long and my attention is starting to wane.

Bruce: doesn’t like it one bit and actually has the audacity to tell you to break it off because he’s your Alpha and father, so any and all suitors must go trough him first, but he firmly believes all you need is him and your siblings and he’s not going to let anything come between you and your pack.

Dick: bitch actually has the nerve to say your Alpha’s stealing you away from your true pack and doesn’t actually love you. You backhand the shit out of him for that and yell that he doesn’t;t know what love is.

Barbara: while she knows that you want to find someone to give you the love and affection they denied you for years, she doesn’t want to give you up and aims to remove your mate from the equation by using her computer skills, but you prove to be far better than her when you fry not only her computers, but the GCPD’s as well, leaving her to pick up the pieces.

Jason: he tries to go after your Alpha-to-be, but you quickly prove yourself more than capable of defending him and showing Jason that a pissed off Omega is just as dangerous as an angry Omega.

Steph: she’s delighted to see Bruce nearly have a heart attack and give him a few extra grey hairs; seriously, show her your ways. But, she’s not thrilled to see you on the arm of some strange Alpha. Come on, she can choose someone way better for you. Granted, she firmly believes that ll you need are them, but she can help you envision a relationship.

Cass: absolutely does not approve and lets you know through sign language. You a part of her pack and this intruder will not be tolerated. Will probably partner up with Jason to take him out.

Tim: stalks the ever loving shit out of both of you in an effort to find a way to break you up, but you quickly corner him and insult him by calling him a freak with no life.

Damian: oh, little brat loses his shit and tries to do to him what he attempted to do to you when the two of you first met. Of course, you grab hold of the sword and snatch it in two and use part of it to nearly decapitate him, resulting in a scar that just misses his scent gland.

Alfred: while he’s so happy to see that you found someone who wish to be with and that someone in this family has a healthy relationship, he still believes that your proper place in with your father and his pack, so he will aid in the attempt to separate the two of you.

Ok, not my best work, but what can you do? Kinda burned myself out with the first half of this post. I may do another mate post if there’s a high enough demand for it and if anyone has an idea on who your mate should be, feel free to live a comment. Keep in mind only male options will be considered.

Also, for the mate thing, keep in mind that when it comes to A/B/O, nothing’s off-limits and typically, what we consider taboo is considered “normal.” So, could one of the Wayne men consider forcing a mating bite on you if it meant bringing you back to the fold? After all, Omegas are subservient to their Alpha mates.

Just food for thought.

#yandere batfamily #alpha batfamily #omega male reader

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sitepathos · 5 months ago

Text

Yandere Alpha Batfamily and Omega Male Reader

Been on a bit of an A/B/O kick on AO3 on the last few days, so here’s this. Enjoy it while waiting for the next chapter of From Gold to Mold!

The Wayne Pack is the most famous pack in Gotham and is one of the most influential packs both in America and in the world, not only due to its wealth, connections, and resources, but because it’s populated almost entirely of Alphas (Alfred is a Beta), with Bruce earning the nickname “Alpha of Alphas.”

Everyone knows that Alphas are biologically hardwired to give orders, not take them, but Brave managed to find a way to reign them in and Gotham is in awe that Bruce Wayne was able to raise several Alphas and lead them into high profile galas, auctions, and other events. They also fawn over the fact that everyone in the Wayne Pack has the perfect blend of looks, intelligence, and body.

Needless to say, the Wayne Pack is a pack many wish to join, especially Gotham’s elite. People by the thousands would sacrifice a limb if it meant being a part of such a prestigious pack.

You were the consequence of a one-night stand between Bruce Wayne and a rising romance author Beta woman.

Just like in From Gold to Mold, your mother dies from a drunk driver on the day of your sixth birthday and after a DNA test showed you to be the son of Bruce Wayne, Alfred came to Goodsprings and you were brought to Gotham to live at Wayne Manor.

You always wished to have a Daddy when your friends talked about theirs and now, you were about to be welcomed with open arms.

Needless to say, you were extremely hurt when he barely acknowledged you and walked off, telling Alfred he was going out.

Alfred told you he was dealing with a lot, namely the untimely death of his pup, Jason, and that he just needed time.

Almost a week after you moved in, Bruce adopted Tim Drake and treated him with love and affection. You greeted Tim, hoping to have someone other than Alfred to talk to, but he just gave you a once-over before following Bruce.

You stood by and watched as the two of them would sneak away to the library and stay in there for hours, especially at night.

After a month, when the two of them made their way to the library, you tried to follow and begged Bruce to allow you to join them, clinging to his arm and tears streaming down your cheeks. All you wanted was just a little bit of his love that he shows Tim.

You realized that was never going to happen he shoved you to the floor, growling at you and baring his fangs, his Alpha instincts on full display. And Tim just stood there and said nothing; in fact, he almost seemed to approve.

They didn’t even watch you as you scrambled to get up and run away as fast as you could, fat tears and loud sobs following you as you retreat to your room.

Time passes and as Bruce welcomes more orphans into his house and treats them like his own children, you withdraw more and more into your distant corner of the manor, where only Alfred deigns to tread. And not only do all of them eventually present as Alphas, but they all possess talents, wit, and charm that add to the Wayne Pack’s prestige and social standing.

Then there’s you, smelling of nothing, meaning you’re a mere Beta. Hell, you feel less than that since Alfred’s a Beta and he’s arguably the one who keeps the Wayne Pack functioning. You’re average in every way possible, and in a pack like the Wayne Pack, that’s unforgivable.

You can do nothing but listen as they pile into the pack nest room where they scent one another, eat a stupid amount of fast food and desserts, and laugh at some movie they put on. After the first dozen times, you learned that you’ll never be invited because you’re not pack.

The final straw came when the bane of your existence, Damian Wayne, came to live at the manor. When he tried to kill you with that sword of his and was just carried away and Dick was telling you to turn the other cheek, you realized that no one cares about you and staying in Gotham would ultimately lead to your death.

The next few years play out as they do in From Gold to Mold, complete with the Pen Incident with Damian, your kidnapping and almost murder, and you becoming the host of the Megamycete.

However, when you enter your house in Goodsprings and all the memories come flooding back, you feel an odd sensation coursing throughout your body, like being set aflame, and you smell something sweet, like Alfred’s baking.

It’s thanks to the Megamycete’s archives that you learn that you’ve just presented as an Omega. Specifically, a male Omega, which is less than 1% of the Omega population and is a highly sought after commodity.

You remember from senior biology lesson that Omegas apparently have a built-in defense mechanism; if a would-be Omega feels that their current environment is unable to accommodate their physical, mental, and emotional needs, so much to the point that their life is in danger, they will refuse to present, going as far as imitating Betas until they’re in a proper environment that they feel safe in.

You freak out, knowing that Omegas are looked down on by most of the world and Gotham is ranked one for the worst places to be an Omega due to the residents of Arkham and the archaic laws that deem Omegas unable to function in the outside world and must be kept inside to “shield their fragile hearts and tender souls.”

If it gets out that you’re an Omega, you’ll most likely be sent back to the Waynes and while they may advocate for Omega rights and sponsor many Omega shelters, they’d most likely make an exception in your case and continue treating you like shit.

Hell, they might even throw you on the streets, knowing no one in Gotham would hire an Omega. Or sell you off to one of their rich friends to further their standing in Gotham’s high society.

Then, you learn that Nevada was actually one of the first places to give Omegas equal rights as the state relies on gambling for revenue. They figured that allowing Omegas to work would lead to them using said money at one of the state’s various casinos. And many casinos saw the appeal in hiring Omegas to work in their game rooms, luring countless Alphas in to gamble and drink their hard earned money away.

For the first time in years, you finally felt happy.

For the next four years, the Wayne Pack loses its cohesion. Bruce loses his temper more easily and is more often than not unable to get his children to follow his orders; Dick struggles to keep the peace between Bruce and his siblings; Barbara fails to fulfill her role as Oracle; Jason seems to blow up at everyone for no reason (except Alfred); Tim withdraws more and more from the family; Cass has a hard time focusing on anything, be it ballet or crime fighting; Steph’s usual witty remarks become more harsh and scathing; and Damian refuses to let anyone near him, only allowing Alfred and his loyal pets into his personal space.

Bruce is at his wit’s end at the state of his pack, all his efforts to bring them together only drive them apart. And he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something missing. Something that he never noticed, but was apparently extremely important.

His burning desire to solve this mystery is satisfied when he discovered a gaming magazine mixed in with his newspapers (Alfred claims it’s one of the children’s and must’ve gotten mixed up with Bruce’s papers, but Alfred totally arranged for that to happen) and when he took a good look at the cover, he saw an older version of you staring back at him.

“This is Y/N,” he asks Alfred, totally baffled at what you look like. “That can’t be him! He’s not old enough!”

“And how old do you think he is, sir,” the butler retorts, an eyebrow raised.

Bruce is capable of answering thousands of questions with highly detailed answers almost instantly, but this one makes him freeze due to him not having an answer.

You were… how old when you first moved in? When was that? How old are you? Wait, when is your birthday? And what is your scent? Actually, when was the last time he talked to you?

As he slowly realizes that he knows less than nothing about you, from your birthday to your age to your scent. He bolts out of his office and to the family’s wing of the manor, but he discovers that the only occupied rooms belong to his children and the room next to his has been unoccupied for over a decade.

He frantically asks Alfred where your room is, quickly leading to the others coming to see Bruce almost on his knees and begging to see you, someone none of them have even thought about in years.

Without uttering a word, Alfred leads them to your old room and all of them are ashamed to learn that you spent years in some dingy guest room with a bed that’s barely large enough for a child, let alone a young adult.

“Where’s Y/N,” Bruce asks, trying to keep his composure. “Is he in Gotham?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. Master Y/N left the manor after his graduation (many of them whimper when they learn they missed your graduation) and moved back to his childhood home.” He pauses and when it sinks in they don’t even know where you lived prior to moving into the manor, he adds, “Goodsprings, Nevada.”

It takes everything Bruce has, but he’s able to force his kids to remain in Gotham while he travels to Metropolis so he can attend your award ceremony and convince you to return to his pack where you belong. As he travels, he has Alfred arrange for the unoccupied room to be turned into a proper room for you, complete with anything you might need. He also plans for you and him to have some quality time with each other before the others fight one another over who gets to have you next.

When you finally take the stage to accept your award and give your speech, he realizes something unexpected: you’re an Omega.

Omegas are barely 10% of the global population and males are practically nonexistent and any that are found are quickly scooped up by opportunistic Alphas.

How could he not have known that?! Even if none of them have spent any time with you during your time at the manor, the smell of an Omega would’ve been smelled by someone. Especially Alfred. Lord knows nothing gets past that man.

Were you taking suppressants? And what kind? And how many times a day? If you’ve been taking them since you presented, there’s no telling what kind of damage has been done to your body!

As he begins to draft up a recovery plan for long term suppressant use, it dawns on him that anyone with a functioning nose can smell the tantalizing sweet smell Omegas are known for. Why aren’t you on suppressants now? Did you run out? Or is it too dangerous for you to take them anymore?

Questions begin to pile on top of one another and as much as he’s glad to hear your voice, he wants the ceremony to wrap up quickly so he can take you into his arms and carry you back to the manor so he can burn your scent into his memory and smother you in his scent.

As the ceremony continues, he hears many Alphas in the audience talking among themselves, all of them wishing to drag you into their beds and knot you. It takes everything in him not to break every one of their jaws and ruin your night.

You’re his son and his pack’s Omega! Anyone wanting to court you will have to go through him and your siblings and there’s no one in this galaxy or the next that will ever be worthy of you! Besides, he and your siblings are all you need!

While many of Gotham’s elite consider Omegas to be status symbols and breeding tools, the Wayne Pack is one of the very few to consider Omegas something to be cherished and valued; Omegas bring life into the world and nurture pups and help bring stability into a pack, no matter the personal cost to them.

All packs yearn to have an Omega and while he’s denied any such need, he’s yearned to add an Omega to his pack that they can all trust and work with due to their nightly activities.

It pains him beyond words to know he scorned such a perfect, beautiful gift and he intends to spend the rest of his life atoning for it.

Finally, the ceremony ends and he manages to find you and he commits very detail about you to memory (he’s saddened to see you inherited none of his physical traits and with you using your mother’s maiden name, there’s nothing showing you’re his pup), from the way you stand to the way you look… horrified at the sight of him.

He tries to speak, to apologize for his actions, to beg you to come home, but he barely gets you name past his lips when you throw your glass at him. He can only watch in horror as you berate him for being here and yelling for him to get away from you.

“Y/N, please. We know we messed up… that I messed up. But things will be different, I swear! Just come home, Y/N! We’re a mess without you—“

“Oh, you people are so dysfunctional that the only way you can live together is if you have someone to take your insecurities and shortcomings out on? And it’s fine that it’s me because I’m an Omega since that’s my lot in life?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that—“

Before he knows it, you’ve backhanded him so hard, black spots dance across his field of vision and before he can recover, you shove him hard and he falls onto the floor. When he looks up, he sees a look on you he’s only seen on Jason and himself: pure rage; the kind that leads to people being seriously injured or dead. It’s also then he smells the putrid stench of hate-pain-rage wafting off you; the smell is so thick that it catches in his lungs and leaves him unable to take a breath.

Before you can do anything else, security comes and separates the two of you. At first, they were going to escort you out for daring to strike an Alpha (New York has strict laws about Omega behavior in public, though not as strict as Gotham), but Lex-fucking-Luthor swooped in and told them to let you go.

“An Omega should never be treated like some common criminal,” he says in an infuriatingly sweet tone. “And it seems to me Bruce Wayne was asking for it.” He holds out his arm. “Might I have the privilege of your company for the evening, Mr. Gould?”

His vision went red and it took all his self control to keep from growling and tearing the man apart as you take his arm and walk with that son of a bitch. When it became clear he wasn’t going to be get close to you again, he leaves the building and lets his children know that there will be a family meeting when he gets home.

They already knew you were an Omega thanks to countless videos taken during your interaction with Bruce, complete with your throwing your drink at him and slapping and shoving him.

Needless to say, they’re all broken up about how their treatment of you for years led to you forgoing on presenting as an Omega and running away to the other side of the country, far away from them.

Bruce knows he’s not the best father in the world (being called the okayest dad would be extremely generous), but this realization really drives home just how much of a failure of a father he is. Not only did he treat his firstborn son like an intruder, but he drove away a vital piece of his pack away. All he thinks about now is holding you in his arms and never letting you go, showering you in his love and merging your scents into one.

He gets more and more pissed since now that everyone knows the firstborn Wayne son is an Omega, he has all of Gotham’s elite petitioning him everywhere he goes to allow them to court you, offering him money, business opportunities, and various luxury goods.

How dare these parasites think you’re something to be bought and traded! You’re a person, for fuck’s sake!

However, he’s ashamed to admit and he keeps this in the darkest corner of his mind, but he does get possessive and territorial when he thinks of you. He thinks of everyone in his pack as his, no matter how old they are or how much he fucks up, and you, his firstborn son and an Omega sends his Alpha instincts into overdrive.

You’re his and his pack’s and he’s not going to rest until you’re in the pack nest, surrounded by all of them.

And once you’re home and covered in all their scents, he’ll throw the biggest gala Gotham’s ever seen in your honor, showing off the Wayne Pack’s treasured Omega, where everyone can seethe at the fact none of them will ever have you.

Dick got misty eyed when he realized that he all but forgot you existed, but when he saw the video that exposed you as an Omega, he couldn’t hold it back and broke down crying for all to see.

If there’s one thing in life Dick holds sacred, it’s his status as the pack’s big brother; in fact, Bruce knows Dick will do everything possible to keep his siblings safe that he made his eldest son the pack’s Right Hand, a position that makes him Bruce’s second-in-command and the first to take over should anything happen to Bruce.

He loves all his siblings equally and goes out of his way to make sure they’re well-taken care of, from calling them on a weekly basis to picking them up for one-on-one outings.

To see you look at them, look at him, with such hatred and contempt in your eyes makes him feel that he’s failed in his role as the pack’s big brother and Right Hand.

And don’t get him wrong, he’s a major advocate for Omega rights, but the world is a dangerous place and being so far from your pack is just asking for trouble! There’s all sorts of people that would love to prey upon an innocent Omega like you!

“Come on, baby bird, the manor’s your real home! Here, let me come get you, and we can order in and have a movie night just for us!”

Barbara actually throws up when the guilt hits her.

When you moved in, she hadn’t been crippled for too long and she was still dealing with having to retire from being Batgirl; when you first approached her, she lashed out at you and made you, a six-year-old who had just lost his mom and had to move across the country, cry.

Her guilt only grows when it hits her that she had not only the love and attention of her dad, but Bruce’s as well; she’s greedy and she feels disgusted whenever she looks in a mirror.

But she wants to make amends and she’s not going to take no for an answer; she use every trick and resource at her disposal to bring you back into the pack and she’ll be one of the first to give you a big hug.

“I know I’m selfish and you have every right to hate me, hate us, but we need you. And we’ll have you, one way or another.”

Jason, arguably, takes this revelation worse than any of them, potentially surpassing Bruce’s distress.

As Red Hood, he seeks to protect all the people of Crime Alley to the best of his ability, but there’s two types he prioritizes: children and Omegas. Children are powerless, rely on the adults of their lives to protect and provide for them, and are the first to suffer when things go wrong and Omegas are kind hearted creatures that care for all their packmates equally (even when said packmates treat them like shit) and everyone thinks they can walk all over them just because they’re smaller and weaker than the rest of the world.

And everyone knows that if Red Hood catches you hurting a kid or an Omega, not even the Bats will be able to find your body.

He beats himself up as every time he hit, threatened, or insulted you, going as far as to claw his chest, drawing blood as some form of penance for his transgressions.

He was pissed at Bruce for allowing Joker to live after killing him and for replacing him with Tim and he had to take it out on you, thinking you were just like Bruce because you shared his DNA, but he was too blinded by rage to see you were just a kid who was unlucky to lose his mom and have Bruce Wayne as a dad. Had he pulled his head out of his ass, he would’ve seen you were a scared pup looking for someone to hold him and tell him everything would be ok.

You two are so much alike it hurts; hell, he might be more of a brother to you than Damian.

He gets why you want nothing to do with them, trust him, he’s been there. Unfortunately, when the Wayne Pack has its hooks in you, they’re impossible to remove and the more you fight, the more you become ensnared in them.

“Look, kid, I get it, really, I do. But, just come home. Trust me, it’s not worth the headache. If you want, I’ll keep them out for your room until you’re ready for them.”

Tim is beating himself up for not finding out about this sooner.

While you and Damian are Bruce’s biological sons and all of them possess traits that are similar to Bruce, it can be said that Tim is more like Bruce than anyone else in the Wayne Pack, complete with his obsessive need to know everything about the people close to him and his inability to understand the concept of personal space.

He has entire archives on everyone in the Wayne Pack, full of personal observations, psych profiles, likes and dislikes, etc and when he goes to find yours, he discovers he has no file on you. At first, he can’t understand how you could’ve lived in the manor and just fly under his radar, but then his very first interaction with you comes rushing back and he realizes that he never considered you worth his attention and now he’s paying the price for his stupidity.

His parents, both Alphas, never really taught him how to interact with Omegas since they were always busy with work and travel, but after seeing Omegas caring for their pups, he began to long for one; all he wanted from his parents was love, but they were too busy to even glance his way.

But Omegas never neglect anyone, and when he was old enough to take over Drake Industries, he’d get his own Omega and keep them in the lap of luxury so all their time could go to loving him and he’s love them.

Of course, his parents’ death happened and he was adopted by Bruce and became robin, so that dream kinda fell to the wayside, but it was always there, whispering to him whenever he felt like he wasn’t enough. While his job as CEO of Drake Industries and Red Robin takes up all his time, he does allow himself to daydream what it would be like to have an Omega mate.

He was so close to having an Omega and he had to go and ruin it! But, he won’t allow you to remain outside the pack. They need you… he needs you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back into the fold, be it intimidating you by reciting crime rates against Omegas to using your biology against you. After all, Omegas are submissive by nature and he spends his nights intimidating Gotham’s criminals.

And once you’re back, you won;t be able to do anything without him knowing about it and adding it to your file on his computer.

“Did you know that Omegas who remain packless are more likely to become depressed? So, not coming home will do you more harm than good in the long run.”

Steph is known for being a bit of a bitch, but it’s always done in good fun. This time, however, she feels like a total bitch and there’s nothing to be proud about it.

When the two of you first met, she spent some time of you for like a week before discarding you like a puppy that got too big to be considered cute. When she learned that you were normal and not like them, she didn’t see the point in being around you.

But she knows she screwed up and she wants to fix that! You can join her, Babs, and Cass on Girls’ Night, and she’ll show you all the ways to screw with the others, and you can watch her cut all your suitors down to size (metaphorically, of course… but she’ll literally do it if you want her to).

She really wants you to come back; she sees how it’s affecting everyone, which is what happens when a pack is fractured, and it’s really become depressing in the manor, so she’s ready to help bring you back, whether willingly or unwillingly.

“Come on, Y/N, we miss you and you need a pack! Tell you what, I’ll help you get revenge on Damian! I know what really pisses him off!”

Cass has never known what true guilt feels like; sure, when Bruce showed her she didn’t have to be a living weapon, she felt remorse about the pain she caused, but she still had the excuse of her upbringing.

Her total dismissal of you when she deemed you harmless? She has no excuse for that. Bruce was offering her the chance to be in a real pack and because she could tell you had no combat capability or other useful abilities, she deemed you unimportant. A real packmates would embrace all her packmates, not just the “useful” ones.

She’s not the most affectionate member of the Wayne Pack (no one can take that title from Dick) and she still thinks all her hands are capable of doing is hurting people, but she’ll step out of her comfort zone for you; she hug you, hold your hand, scent you all day every ay if it means you coming back to the pack.

And if you want to be alone for a little bit? She’ll stand outside your door, guarding it against any intruder, including Bruce.

She can tell the pack is reeling from your absence, threatening not only their bonds but their ability to protect Gotham. She knows the only way to fix this is by bringing you back home and if she has to do drag you all the way from Goodsprings, she will. She can spend the rest of her life making it up to you.

Damian shows no emotion when the revelation hits home, but on the inside, he’s torn up about how he drove his only blood brother away.

During his time with the League, he grew up thinking he was the only legitimate heir of the Bat, but when he moved to Gotham and learned of your existence, he felt threatened and attempted to eliminate you in order to cement his place as his sire’s true heir; after he found out you were a helpless whelp born of a dalliance between his father and a harlot, he knew his place as the future Alpha of the Wayne Pack was secure and in order to keep you beneath him where you belong, he made your life difficult, insulting you to the point you cry and torturing you with his animals.

Once, he thought having a you for a blood brother was a liability, but now, after spending years with his pack, he now knows he was wrong to treat you so poorly and now wants to repair the damage to your relationship.

And you being an Omega? Well, the League saw Omegas as a means of reproduction, sure, but they were treated with the utmost respect; everyone served a purpose in the League and stressed out Omegas don’t produce quality pups. He’s actually happy you’re an Omega as the pack has enough Alphas and packs with an Omega function far better than those who don’t as Omegas keep the peace and see that all members are cared for.

Actually, you’ll find him seeking you out more because of your designation. Talia wasn’t exactly the most affectionate of mothers and his interactions with his grandfather were always so cold and formal; his time in Gotham showed him wanting to be close to your fellow packmates is nothing to be ashamed of and it makes you stronger, not weaker. And everyone knows physical affection and Omegas go hand in hand.

He’s actually ordered dozens blankets and pillows from several of Gotham’s luxury nest supply stores and has placed several of his and Bruce’s clothes in your room to help you acclimate to your place in the pack (the others tried to put some of their clothes in your room, but he denied it on the grounds that it would overwhelm you) and can’t wait to offer to help you build your nest.

He daydreams of you returning and has drawn up many activities for you two to do, from him painting your portrait to escorting to Gotham’s finest restaurants and museums and educating you on the finer things in life.

He understands that you have every right to hate them, but you can’t escape the fact that Wayne blood courses through your veins, tying you to him, Bruce, and even Gotham itself. You belong back at the manor, with him and your father, and he’ll fight through hell to bring you back to your proper home.

“I know my behavior was unacceptable, brother, but we still share blood. You belong in Gotham, not this pathetic backwater village. It’s time you assume your role as the Wayne Omega.”

As the Bats spiral into madness with their need to bring you home and make amends for their behavior, Alfred watches on. He knew you wanted to return to Goodsprings and your time in Gotham could be considered worse than losing your mother, but you’re still Bruce’s son and a member of the Wayne Pack.

He’s not about to let his packmates’ stupidity chase you away when your place is right here.

And when he learned you’re an Omega? It only strengthened his resolve to bring you back home.

The world is a harsh place for Omegas and while life may have dealt you a bad hand, you still have a good heart and it’s in danger of being stomped out by those who wish you harm.

“I know the manor brings you many bad memories, Master Y/N, but it’s still your proper home. I promise you, things will be different this time.”

#yandere batfamily #batfamily x male reader #a/b/o dynamics #omega male reader #alpha batfamily

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