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wow-thisismylifeiguess · 1 month ago

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Cryptid Bruce

Martha and Thomas Wayne struggled to have a child for years and Thomas meets a shady man who tells him that a child will come to them soon

Thomas just ‘??? okaaaaaay’s him but in a week, Martha bursts into his office looking frazzled

“We’re being haunted.”

“….”

“Don’t give me that look, Thomas Wayne. The Manor. It’s haunted. Alfred! Tell him we’re being haunted!”

And Alfred comes in, also looking frazzled but to a lesser degree.

The two explain that things are moving around the Manor without any kind of explanation, but Thomas doesn’t believe them. Until he notices things in his office also being moved. The weirdest event is when they start hearing a child’s giggles. No explanation. None.

Not until Thomas, sleep deprived after going over paperwork for one too many hours, pops into the kitchen and…there is a child. Sitting on the kitchen counter.

The child, a boy, turns. Grins. Waves.

“Hi, daddy.”

—

Bruce, they name him, can melt into shadows. He finds it hilarious. Martha thinks she’s going to go grey at her young age. She adores him. Thomas adores him. He’s their son now.

The Waynes have a mysterious child, but they keep their private lives very private, so maybe they just successfully hid a pregnancy? And then a child. For…three years. They think Bruce is three, at least.

Despite how odd of a child Bruce is, they love him dearly. He’s some kind of miracle. A…very weird, possibly magical(?) miracle.

—

Dick thinks his adoptive father is strange. Extremely strange. Bruce makes absolutely no noise when he moves. He doesn’t cast shadows but he seemingly is able to *blend into them*. His smile, whilst genuine, seems a little too sharp.

He thinks he’s a vampire.

Bruce laughs so hard, he doubles over.

“No, but I am the Batman, so I guess you’re not far off.”

“…is this a joke?”

“Nope.”

“A dream?”

Bruce pinches him and Dick yelps.

Bruce doesn’t explain to Dick what he is, because he doesn’t have a clue himself. He just…is.

—

But when Jason comes along, he has a million and one questions. Bruce blinks at him.

“How did you do that? You literally *melted* into the shadows!”

Bruce shrugs.

“No. *No*. Explain.”

“I…can’t.”

“You said no secrets, B!”

Bruce puts his hands up defensively. “It’s not a secret! I really don’t know! It just…kind of happens.”

Jason stares at him. Bruce stands there. He seems to flicker? The edges of his body go a bit transparent and Dick knows he only does that when he’s stressed.

“Leave him alone, Jay. He’s telling the truth. He’s just…like that. But he’s still Bruce.”

It takes Jason two months to accept it. By then, his questions are more from genuine intrigue and wonder. He hides under Batman’s cape and somehow it’s spacious? It can even fit Dick at the same time. No one (but Bruce) can even hear them when they’re under there.

And then one day, when he goes to take a nap under Bruce’s cape, someone else is there.

“….B?”

“…”

“You know what I’m going to ask.”

“…”

“*Bruce*.”

“No real names, Robin.”

“No one can hear me!”

“…I didn’t kidnap him.”

“What his name?”

“Timothy Drake.”

“FROM DRAKE INDUSTRIES?”

And Tim wakes up, rubbing his eyes. He looks exhausted and way too skinny, and all of a sudden, Jason understands why Dick has cooed at him the first night Bruce brought him home.

“Um…hi.”

“B, we’re keeping him.”

Jason doesn’t need to see Bruce’s face to know he’s smiling.

—

Damian just…appears. Bruce suddenly understands his parents’ reactions to his first appearance because nearly the same exact thing happens. Bruce wakes up from a nap. He doesn’t need to sleep very often, something Tim finds incredibly annoying, declaring it to be *unfair*. He wakes up, and curled against his chest is…a boy. Who looks a *lot* like him.

“Uh.”

The child wakes up, blinks at him w striking green eyes.

“Hello Father.”

What the fuck.

Dick slams his way into Bruce’s office, followed by Jason and Tim, who are bickering with each other.

“DAAAAAAAD, THEY WON’T SHU- oh. Steal another kid?”

“…he just appeared.”

“That’s the excuse you used for Jason.”

“No. Literally. I fell asleep. No kid. Woke up. Kid.”

“My name is Damian.”

“That’s no fair. You came pre-named?”

Damian is as odd as Bruce. Actually, he’s weirder. And stabby. Bruce finds him *delightful*. He adores him.

—

Dick is Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood (no death, he just thought it was a cool name), Tim is Red Robin, and Damian’s Robin.

Bruce is Batman. Despite being in his late 30s, he still looks like he’s in his mid 20s.

—

Batman stands in front of a bank robber who’s going on about their evil bank robbing plans. Nightwing pops his head out from beneath Batman’s cape.

“Can you get to the point?”

Red Hood pops out next.

“I’m getting bored.”

Red Robin follows.

“This is sad.”

Damian.

“Scum.”

Batman sighs.

“Why are all of you here?”

“Missed you.”

They all chime in.

The robber.

“How…how the *fuck-?*”

“Language. There are kids around.”

“B, I’m 23.”

“Says the boy taking a nap in my cape. And I was talking about Red Robin and Robin.”

“…’s comfy.”

“I’m eighteen???”

“F- Batman! I am not a child!”

There’s some shuffling sounds, no doubt Red Hood moving over to ruffle Robin’s hair.

“Whatever you say, Tiny Demon.”

And then Red Hood shrieks.

“No stabbing your brothers, Robin.”

“He called me small!”

“…you are.”

“This is insulting, F- Batman. I will grow to be as big as you. No. *Bigger*.”

The robber watches in confusion, mild amusement, and horror.

Batman sighs.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now, you were saying? Blowing up the bank, terrorizing the people.” Batman yawns. “Anything else?”

“Just take me to Arkham. I think I’m insane.”

#cryptid bruce my beloved #this was inspired by a tiktok of the boys popping out of batblob’s cape #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #batman #batfam #batfamily #my post

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nikovraskol · 22 days ago

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crack baby ; prologue

wc ; 1572 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; death, neglect, brief mention of drugs, curse words

prologue, one, tbc..

Your death was completely preventable.

As you lay on the concrete floor of the cold alleyway, you can’t help but feel a sense of peace. Yeah, sure, you were shot 5 times and you’re currently bleeding out in some piss-smelling drug-ridden pavement. At least you’ve died in a somewhat honorable way, people will have a tell to tale, whether it’s good or bad, you’ll be remembered for a while.

Or maybe that’s wishful thinking, maybe the lack of blood is making you delirious. There’s no way you’ll be remembered as anything but the child that haunts the manor, that stalks around, staring at the residents of the Wayne manor with hopeful eyes. A child who doesn’t belong, who’s body isn’t able to fill in the cracks in the family, a child who wasn’t able to give anything, to devout anything.

A child of 21, but a child nonetheless.

The way you got caught up in the shooting was so unbelievably stupid, you were too nice to refuse taking on an extra shift from your co-worker, working overtime for free because you didn’t know how to say no. You got caught up in a fight between goons on your way home. For a brief moment, that small child you had buried foolishly believed your father would swoop down and protect you.

Then you were shot, again and again and again.

You don’t want to die, you decide at the last minute. You want to go back in time, to tell your poor 16-year-old self that yearning for the love of a family who doesn’t have love to give is foolish. A foolish child dying a foolish death.

And then, your eyes shut for the last time, you can almost hear your mother’s low humming, the smell of the dingy, old apartment you used to live in with her, you can taste the cold food she worked to provide (you can feel her hands on your neck, can hear her apologies ringing over and over as she cries).

It’s peaceful, almost nice.

Until you wake up – and your first thought is; what the fuck?

Your hand instinctively moves to your lower abdomen where you were shot – you were shot! You remember the burning pain shooting through you, so why on earth are you unharmed and.. in your bedroom?

It’s strange, why are your old posters up? Trinkets you distinctly remember throwing out, clothes you don’t wear thrown about – and that’s when it happens.

Your eyes catch a reflection in the mirror, your reflection. Your reflection that isn’t yours, why is

your hair shorter? Why are you so small– why are you.. Sixteen?

“What the fuck?” You hiss, jumping out of bed – wobbling as you whip your head around, taking in every nook and cranny of the small room. “What the fuck?!”

You jump towards the mirror, leaning in as you slap, pinch and stretch your face, awed by the youthful appearance, you had forgotten how cute you looked. No, that seems like the wrong word, you looked sixteen. Just an average sixteen year old, healthy and alive (somehow).

A few moments ago you were lying in a pool of your blood in a run-down alley, an unloved 21 year old – now you’re sixteen again, and you have a chance to change the inevitable! If you ignore the pit of dread in your stomach. Sixteen had been the worst year of your life, full of anger and hormones and teenage drama. Sixteen had been the year you struggled the most.

On the bright side, at least you had a trial run..?

“Young Master (Name)” A british, familiar voice calls out and you tense, whipping your head around to see Alfred. It had almost slipped your mind, Alfred is alive. He’s standing before you, as straight and proper as always, smiling at you as if nothing had changed. As if you hadn’t sobbed at his funeral, as if you hadn’t cursed your family for dragging him into their mess, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights at his grave, as if–

“Are you.. alright?” He asks, taking in the flabbergasted expression on your face – to which you straighten up, nodding with a shaken exhale as you ignore the churning of your stomach. You felt nauseous, everything felt too real in an uncomfortable way. A very uncomfortable way – the mix of emotions threatening to consume you.

“You didn’t come down for breakfast, I was beginning to grow worried.” He explains, taking in the way you nod blankly once more, his brows furrowing. “Is– everything alright”

“Y– yes, I’m just not hungry, I’ll– have something later.” You can’t keep your voice from trembling, you’re five seconds away from breaking down and sobbing before him, but you don’t want to worry him. You need to figure out a game plan, you’ve no time for stupid pleasantries like food, plus even if you tried to eat you’d probably throw up then break down sobbing.

“Alright, Young Master. But please, eat something before noon.” Alfred sighs, clearly worried by your peculiar behaviour, his eyes lingering for a moment too long before he leaves your room, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click. Oh fuck, how are you supposed to interact with anyone in this family if a two minute interaction is enough to have you trembling? Whatever, it matters not! You fumble around with your face for another moment before letting out a long sigh, your head already aching from the bewilderment of the situation. You shuffle over to your bed, plopping down with another huff. You had no idea what to do, no plan to go forward, but you had to figure something out.

You couldn’t stay in the Manor, you couldn’t deal with the dismissive eyes, the fake words of reassurance. You couldn’t stand curling up in your room, listening to the distant sounds of laughter as everyone celebrated without you. You couldn’t stand being that child again.

“I need to leave.” You say with more firmness than you had intended, your eyes set on the mirror before you. Of a sixteen-year-old (Name), staring back at you with pitiful eyes, you’ll get them out, you’ll give them a future – you’ll give yourself a future.

“Okay. Now, where do I begin?” You mumble, staring up at your ceiling before reaching for your phone. Time to go house hunting at sixteen. Yipee.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Alfred was picking up your plate with a thoughtful expression, breakfast had always been your favourite time of day because it always gave you a chance to see your family. No matter how you felt, or how busy you were. How peculiar.

It’s unusual for you to so blatantly skip it, there’s also that whole thing with your demeanour. Something in you had shifted, and he didn’t like it – it felt as though you were slipping away, as though you had resigned, as though you had stepped back, content in living as a shadow lurking in the dark corners of the Manor.

That simply won’t do.

He won’t give up on that smiling child, looking up at him with their front tooth missing, dirt staining their clothes as they ramble on about how they found a top secret hide-out, how they can’t wait to tell your big brothers their adventures.

Well, he’s sure with a few clever strings pulled he can finally put you on centre stage, with the lights shining on you. He just needs to remember to reserve a front row seat, for himself, of course.

“What the fuck?” You grumble, repeating that sentence for the nth time as you angrily type on your phone – why is every apartment in this city and the city over so bummy? It’s either too expensive or overridden with rats or overtaken by gangs.

You never moved houses in your past (?) life, staying in the Wayne Manor was easy once you accepted the inevitability of chasing after a fruitless relationship. Plus, the housing in Gotham and Bludhaven has always been..

Well, it could be better!

“(Name).” Your heart jumps out of your chest as an strangely familiar voice calls out for you, dark, low, paternal. Who on earth?

Your heart sinks as your eyes shift to the figure at your door. Batman, Bruce Wayne, your father, is in your room? What the fuck? This had never happened in your life, certainly not at sixteen. You can recall every single time you’ve ever seen your family, so why? Your hand curls around your phone as you gape up at your father. This isn’t supposed to happen. The one thing grounding you through this crazy, disconnecting experience was the comfort that you were familiar with your future, that you had a grasp on what events are bound to go down.

You’ve been awake for about twenty minutes – how’s it already changed?! Inside you, a deep part of your soul shifts, the air in the room suddenly being sucked in by his overwhelming presence, his eyes – cold and calculating, sizing you up as if you were a specimen, as though you were a pretty piece of silver at an auction and not his flesh and blood, your breathing become uneven as you try to grasp at your memory, anything that might've slipped your mind regarding interactions with your father.

You draw a blank, this has never happened. It's not supposed to happen – what the fuck?!

“Let’s go for a walk.”

yall i feel like this sucks i havent written in like two years im so rusty omg im so embarresed ill die bye

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne x reader #dick grayson x reader #dc fanfiction #tim drake x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne x reader #platonic dick grayson x reader #batfam x reader #platonic yandere #yandere #platonic #alfred pennyworth #platonic batfam #yandere family

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noisilyscreechingsong · 2 months ago

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It’s canon that Jason Todd had a brother named Danny Todd. All we know is he died being a look out for a local gang. Who’s to say he didn’t die at the age of fourteen and come back? Maybe the Fentons were investigating the levels of ectoplasm in the area and somehow got their hands on an amnesic kid who died and didn’t quite stay dead? Perhaps they wanted to make him their side experiment, or they wanted to see if they can teach it to be good and not evil. Who knows. But as soon at Danny steps foot in Gotham, the entity of Gotham is there to greet him, welcome him home and remind him of who he was. And does he remember.

Danny is just a year or two younger than Dick and he was supposed to be starting a new job in the R&D department of WE. Instead he’s pushed back his start date to do research.

Of course, the first thing he looks up is his family, his original family that he can’t believe he forgot, to find out his mother, his father, and his little baby brother are all dead and buried. He has to take a break to sob uncontrollably on the kitchen floor for a while before gathering himself back up to find out what happened. He is unimpressed with the lack of information on Jason’s death, but he did find lots on his adoption to mister rich guy Brucie Wayne.

So it’s with almost no hesitation that after finding every single article and snippet he can on his brother and still find it lacking, he drives his motorcycle, that he built himself thank you, to Wayne Manor where he rang the buzzer repeatedly with a little too much force.

It takes him a while to finally bully his way through the gates, arguing with the butler and telling little white lies of ‘of course I don’t want to harm Mr. Wayne, I just need to ask him some questions’.

Sure he could have waited and got close to him through his new job or had some other cunning plan, but Danny has always been a straightforward kind of person and that didn’t change after his death. No, he prefers to get what he wants straight from the source.

That’s how he ends up pacing the length of the sitting room the British guy left him in with a deep glare and tense shoulders.

It was a nice place. Clean. Taken care of. Expensive. Jason lived here once upon a time. Too bad it didn’t last.

Mr. Wayne does show, surprisingly, and takes the time to assess him like a threat as he BS’s him with a ditzy expression.

Danny walks right up to him and sticks out his hand to shake because Jazz raised him with manners.

“Mr. Wayne,” he greets with a stiff nod.

Mr. Wayne hesitantly takes the offered hand.

“Uh, nice to meet you, I’m sorry, Alfred didn’t tell me your-“

As soon as the handshake is over Danny socks him with a right hook straight to the face. The force throws him back a few steps but he recovers quickly. Danny shakes out his hand.

“My name is Danny Fenton. Before that though my name was Danny Todd.” He sees Wayne’s eyes widen a bit in recognition. The next part didn’t really need to be said but he did it anyway. “My little brother was Jason and no I don’t have proof so you’ll just have to take my word for it. You are going to tell me exactly how he died and I’m not leaving here until you do.”

His words had fallen back into his Gotham Crime Alley accent with how emotional he was. He forgot how he even used to talk. How does that even happen?

He walks back to sit on the couch, getting comfortable because he has a feeling this guy will drag this out like pulling teeth.

“I’ll ask Alfred to get some refreshments,” Wayne says after several minutes of silence.

“You do that.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #jason todd #bruce wayne #Danny and Jason are brothers #amnesia #story ideas #batman

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lexcys · 1 month ago

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★ crimson tension rafe cameron x reader

summary: who knew rafe getting beat up and being vulnerable would end up giving him what he needed most - comfort

warnings: blood, wound description

a/n: ughh this took so long to write but it was worth it cuz I made myself giggle and kick my feet a few times. maybe this is a little cliche but I’m a sucker for these so sorry not sorry

loud music blasted over the speakers, laughter and unfamiliar voices rang around the manor, people spilled out from every room, clutching red plastic cups. the air was thick with the smell of beer and something sweet mixed with a faint undertone of sweat, the wide open doors leading to the cameron garden offered little relief, serving more as a passage to the outdoors than a true escape from the stifling atmosphere of tannyhill

the kitchen was a maze of half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and a few glasses perched on the edge of every counter. it was hard to believe none had shattered, considering the steady flow of people jostling past each other

right as you are about to take yet another shot you hear some barely audible shouting

curiosity overtaking your body faster than your mind and your legs start moving on their own accord, shot getting lost on the counter. making your way through the crowd but merely getting to the hallway as a mass of people block off the way and view to the living room, you hear a loud voice that undoubtedly belongs to rafe

whispers and 'oohs' pass through the crowd, before you notice rafe pushing past people with practiced ease, not bothering to acknowledge anyone as he moves forward. his focus unwavering, his movements deliberate as he makes his way toward you, a destination in mind

you catch a glimpse of the huge gash right above his eybrow - your eyes widen and you move towards him

after seeing his look and eyes you realize why he doesn’t react to you calling out his name - whatever substance he had taken prior was showing on his face, the haze clouding his expression, a disheveled look, glassy eyes with dilated pupils, fluoride stare as well as furrowed brows were noticeable as he brushes right past you

you glance around the room and the absence of attention on rafe doesn’t go unnoticed. you realise whoever had been on the other end of his rage must look worse - a chill runs down your spine imagining the ugly sight

being sarahs friends, tannyhill was not a foreign place for you so you knew where he was headed as he moved up the stairs

you hesitate but decide to follow him, once you’ve reached his room you rethink whether or not to knock, uncertainty creeping in but the worry gnaws at you too strongly - after calling out to him and getting no answer you enter the dimly lit room

the music dampens as you close his door. you pay no attention to his room, a already familiar space, your eyes immediately noticing him right ahead

the weight of the silence between you both grows heavier as you step closer, torn between reaching out and giving him space

he’s standing on his balcony, slumped onto the railing all though theres so much tension present in his shoulders that you can see it from a few meters away. his eyes are fixed on the ocean, the smoke lingering in the air making it evident that there was a cigarette resting between his fingers

he merely spares you a glance when you say his name again, turning around without muttering a single word

carefully you make your way toward him, situating yourself onto his right in complete silence, taking in the scene before you - the music has gotten louder and you look down at the people dancing below you, they payed absolutely no mind to rafe above them and in comparison to the loud laughs and voices the ocean before you was calm - the steady motion of the water, the endless horizon, seeming to soothe him

analysing his face you conclude that whatever fight had just occured - it was a heavy one - rafe had a busted lip, bruised knuckles, a bruise was already forming on his nose and the eybrow gash that was bleeding rather harshly. your face twists imagining how much his head must be throbbing

right now was not the time - but you also couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he has never looked hotter

the moonlight hit his face just right, highlighting his tired eyes, making the blood adorning his face less unsettling, cigarette held between blood covered fingers, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, yet there’s something almost striking about the way his hands look, the way they’re still so perfectly shaped, even in their damaged state - his pain and his beauty so closely intertwined. even in this state, even with blood streaked across his face, there’s something undeniably captivating about him.

quickly pushing those thoughts aside you catch rafe looking at you for a second with a seemingly emotionless look, tension still present in his eybrows

you know he probably wanted to be left alone, his body language said it all. the desire to comfort him tugs at you, wanting to step forward and reach out, to brush your fingers along his jaw, to caress the sharpness of his stern yet tender face

''why are you here?'', he bites in a monotone tone, ripping you out of your thoughts

you clear your throat, ''I just wanted to see if you’re alright... maybe help you,” you say, the words feel awkward, out of place, like you’re intruding

his eyes snap to you, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something sharp, almost like a reflex. then, it morphs into a cold, bitter look of disgust. “I don’t need any help,” he mutters

''rafe you’re bleeding - badly'', you utter throwing a glance toward the gash which, even in bad lightning, was clearly deeper than he realized as it had oozed so much blood that it had almost covered the right side of his face. ''I just-'' you falter before sighing, ''I didn’t know what happened and I was concerned''

you weren’t entirely sure why you were confessing your concern - it wasn’t exactly something that came naturally with rafe cameron. the alcohol in your system seemed to loosen the edge

seemingly bother by you answer, not even sparing you a look he replies, ''I don’t need your pity, run back to sarah or something'' he motions you away with his hand

you bite your lip, clearly fighting a mental battle whether or not to leave him alone. you notice his hands shaking, not sure whether it was from anger pain or something else

slightly tipsy you gather the courage to ask once again, pushing his annoyance aside because you so desperately want to help him, feeling your heart hurt seeing him like this

you try one last time, ''your hands are shaking, you sure you can patch yourslef up? I really just wanna help you rafe. but if you really want me to go say it - then Ill leave'', finishing you realize how pathetic you sounded, internally cringing but hoping it would convince him and make him see that you really did care about him

silence

rafe looks at you quickly noticing your concerned face filled with worry, even though his look was quick you notice that it changed, something changed, but before you can even get close to figuring out what he turns back around and takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling up in the cool air, his gaze fixed straight ahead, not meeting yours again

he exhales slowly, the smoke drifting up in a haze, but the tension in the air thickens instead of easing

defeated, you turn away, the weight of the silence too much to bear. you don’t say anything, no last attempt to reach him

suddenly you hear a quiet ''wait'' from rafe, so faint it wouldn’t have been audible if you had taken two more steps

you turn your head around quickly, trying to figure out if he really just said that but when you catch him putting out his cigarette into the ashtray you realise that he did

he turns around as you take a few steps towards him. his face barely visible from his dark room - only illuminated lightly by the moonlight and the soft glow from the party below - holds a stern and tense look, his jaw clenched with tension, vulnerability present in his eyes

rafe still hasn’t said another word but you’re easily able to read his expression and figure out what he wants you to do

relief washing over you you exhale a big breath, ''okay where’s the med kit?''

''bathroom'', is the only thing he says, voice low, eyes still focused on you - unwavering

you turn around and step into the bathroom, the small space a contrast to the size of his bedroom. quickly you begin searching the cabinets, your mind already running through the steps you’d need to take. already thinking about where would be the best place to clean and dress his wound, somewhere where he can sit down, somewhere you can work without too much trouble - before finding the med kit under his sink

a subtle warmth creeps up your neck, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. you turn around noticing him standing in the doorway, leaning against the door - watching you with those empty yet pleading eyes before his gaze flickers over to the mirror - he’s lost in his reflection for a moment, studying himself

rafe stands there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. then, with a quiet click, he closes the door behind him, fully stepping into the bathroom. the music muffles and the air between you tightens. you swallow, heart racing - you try to focus on the medkit in your hands. he moves past you slowly, sitting down on the toilet lid

right now, in the bright light of the bathroom, you’re finally able to see the full extent of his wounds as he holds his head up, avoiding your gaze. examining his wounds you settle on tending to his eyebrow first

you can tell that he’s not ready to talk about the fight or whatever happened. the air is heavy and something in his silence tells you not to push. so, you don’t, you stay quiet. setting the med kit down on the counter searching for the right tools, you feel suffocated by the silence, so awfully aware of every, rigid and nervous, breath you took

ready you turn back to rafe whose gaze is set onto the ground, still lost in thought - you try to clear your throat to catch his attention, to notify him that you’re ready and willing to tend to his wounds

he looks at you with a look, a look so vulnerable and hurt that it pulled at your heart. whatever he was just thinking must’ve hit him hard - the weight of it is there, written across his face, and you feel it in your chest. rafe’s eyes still carry that glassy, fluorid stare, as if he's still not fully aware of everything around him, making you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s letting slip

you figure that however you were to approach this - it would be awkward either way

you looked at him with a nervous look, alcohol-soaked cotton pad in hand - standing right in front of him, you hesitated as your eyes met his. he lifts his head a little farther up for you to get better access to his wounds. rafe is leaning forward, legs spread with his forearms resting on his knees, crossing his hands slightly in front of him infront - still at an awkward length until he fully uncrosses his hands, resting them on his knees. you waited, unsure if you’re allowed to enter the space, looking for a look of approval in his distant eyes. he nods - the faintest movement of his head, barely visible

his eyes carry a look that’s hard to read, an expression that makes you wonder if there’s a storm raging inside his mind or if he’s drifting into an unsettling emptiness

settling in between his knees - still trying to keep some sort of distance, unsure what was or wasn’t crossing the line, you bring the cotton pad up to his face. you gently start cleaning off the, mostly already, dried blood before moving on to his gash. the second it hits his skin again his eyes - which have been avoiding yours from the second he nodded - close, his jaw clenching pain evident although he tried not to show it, putting up some sort of barrier to, even in this vulnerable state, seem unbothered - strong

while cleaning you notice his hands, resting on his knees, and fingers lightly grazing against the fabric of your shorts, the lightest of touches—almost like a subconscious gesture. it’s a small movement, barely noticeable, but the tension it creates fills the space between you

you focus on your task, but it’s harder now, your hand faltering slightly with each light graze of his fingers

the delicate movement of his fingers almost like a distraction from the physical discomfort he’s trying to hide so well. it makes you wonder if he’s trying to ground himself, or if he’s just too lost in the moment to notice what he’s doing

after cleaning everything off in the best way you could you apply some zip stitches to at least momentarily close the wound. his breath hitches as you press the last stitch into place, but he doesn’t move or make a sound, the mask of stoic restraint still firmly in place

you couldn’t figure out if rafe was actually aware that he was pulling you closer to himself

by the time you were ready to clean his lip the distance between you was so minimal that you could barely clean it properly. the closeness making every slight movement feel amplified now, the soft brush of his breath, the faint tension in his jaw, the way his eyes flicker between avoiding yours and briefly meeting your gaze

you gently press the cotton to his lip, your fingers grazing his skin in the process. the way his gaze flicks up to meet yours for a split second makes your heart skip, throwing off your rhythm.

you hesitate for a moment, your heart racing in the silence between you. the closeness is overwhelming, and you know you need to steady yourself, to find a way to regain control. your fingers tremble slightly as you lift your hand, almost instinctively, and you gently place it on the side of his face. the warmth of his skin is a shock, he lets out a soft exhale which you wouldn’t have noticed if you werent holding his face with your hand - but he doesn’t pull away.

you angle his face just enough to get a better view, but the movement feels more like an anchor for yourself, the subtle pressure of your hand on his skin keeps you tethered, even as the air between you thickens with something unsaid

you press the pad to his lip slowly, careful and deliberate, but your fingers linger on his skin longer than necessary, your thumb lightly brushing the edge of his jaw. his breath brushes against you, warm and shallow

it’s hard to focus with the way his gaze lingers on you, the way your hand feels on his face

his lips part quickly as you tend his wound - the area lightly swollen, thankfully not comparable to his eyebrow gash

you finish tending to his face, placing a last small plaster, hurting at the loss of contact. you take a look back and admire your work and him. the quiet stillness between you both feels oddly heavy, but the comfort of knowing he’s patched up - protected for now - settles in

you dread saying the words a loud, not wanting to lose this moment, not wanting to end it - not sure what it even was

''done''

the hands behind you tighten their grip, slowly pulling you even closer, eliminating the space between you. your body freezes for a second - caught off guard. his head reasts on your upper body, sending a wave of warmth through you, and for a moment, you're aware of every breath, every beat of your heart

his breath is steady, slow, but there’s an unmistakable force in the way he holds you, a quiet urgency that makes your mind go blank

his grip, though firm, isn't forceful - more like an unspoken invitation, urging you, pleading you, to stay within the space he's created. he held on with such a purpose - it made it seem like you would evaporate the second he let go

you place one hand gently in his hair, testing the waters, seeing if he'd be comfortable with you running your fingers through it. the other one rests on his back

rafe flinches when you tryto pull him closer, putting pressure on his back

you let the moment linger for a few seconds more before speaking up, breaking the comforting silence which rested between you, ''rafe let me see your back''

he pulls back and looks at you for a second, his look completely unreadable. this time he complied. he stands up with a slow, deliberate motion and turns around. he lifts his shirt as far up as he could, pain clearly holding him back. gently taking hold of the shirt from his hand, you ease the fabric upward, careful to avoid causing him any more pain as you lift it higher

his back is painted with all sorts of colours - some bruises worse than others. you flinch at the sight, although you’re a little relieved to see no cuts

seeing there is nothing you can do you let his shirt fall back down, very carefully smoothing it on his back - hoping to provide some comfort with the soft touch

as you move next to him to rest a hand on his bicep, you ask him with a hushed voice, ''can I get you a new shirt'', meeting his gaze, ''yours is full of blood''

fully aware that the line that was not to be crossed has now become blurred

rafe nodded

you leave his side, moving to his drawer - your fingers fumble slightly as you sift through the clothes, searching for a shirt. you pick out a loose one, one that would not press against his back too much or that would be a struggle to put on

he now sat on his bed, patiently waiting for you, watching you

you turn back to him, seeing his eyes, his expression. a storm of thoughts no longer visible, only exhaustion

''is this one okay?'' you questioned. he nodded before clearing his throat and lowering his gaze, ''can you help me put it on'', clearly exhausted

you pull hisshirt up slowly, carefully and for a moment you’re stunned, staring in silence. the sight that greets you is just as shocking as it is heartbreaking - his chest is as bruised as his back

rafe is clearly avoiding your eyes, looking to his left with a tense jaw

without saying another word you pull the other shirt over his head, standing before him, ''are you gonna go back down?''

he replies with a shake of his head, ''no''

you quietly stars at him for a few seconds more, debating how to continue then letting your legs carry you towards the bathroom to clean up. but just as you turn to leave, you feel his hand snap out, gripping your wrist with a force that sent a jolt through your body. the touch was immediate, urgent, as though he couldn’t let you go. but then, as quickly as it had come, his grip softened, the tension draining away as he loosened his hold

your eyes flicker back to him

“stay”

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luludeluluramblings · 3 months ago

Note

One thing I always wonder in Neglected! Reader scenarios that I haven’t seen anyone explore is Married/Single Mom! Reader. It’s drama and angst potential.

Like Reader having a boyfriend and getting pregnant while still living in the Wayne manor, and everyone just takes a little too long to figure out. Maybe they do find out early with the morning sickness and whatnot but the thought of Bruce looking at Reader like 6 months pregnant and being like “Wait a minute… 🤨” and Reader wasn’t even trying to hide it that much.

And same scenario except Reader moved out either while pregnant or got pregnant after, Batfam forgets all about them and when fate does bring them together (like the Bruce/Selina wedding concept) she is literally about to pop or has a whole baby with her. Cue Bruce (and later everyone else) losing his shit because omg??? 😧 that’s his first grandchild and he had no idea!!

… And then if the Reader is married in this scenario, makes it all the more complicated (she didn’t invite anyone to her wedding? what do you mean Alfred attended when we had no idea?). Everyone is straight up hostile towards her spouse (Damian, Bruce and Jason are insufferable) and safe to say he won’t be around for long. Single mom Reader though, the amount of emotional manipulation about kids needing a family and father figures and you should move back in so everyone can help with the baby… Yeah.

Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x SugarBaby!Reader x Older!Husband

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N:OOOOO, I have something I was working on that I was having fun with that you might like!

A/N:Neglected!Reader with Older!Husband. (It's husband because it's based of that meme Your daughter calls me daddy, too. And, Reader is Female, because we're making a baby in here.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You, sweet thing, do the typical thing and run off from home, once you turn the legal age. Checking in with Alfred on occasion, but just living your best life. Only, in typical fashion, all those years of neglect lead to severe daddy issues. And, a minor itty bitty attraction to older men.

You get lucky though because you manage to find a fine one that loves to spoil his baby girl with vacations and spa days. All the best for his baby. He loves taking you places and showing you a good time. So, it's no wonder he plans a Babymoon for you when you're expecting your first child. Anything for you.

Unfortunately, Daddy gets called into work right before the vacation. And, despite you insisting you stay, he makes you go and promises to join you as soon as possible.

(No, the man isn't cheating. He just gotta make the money for his baby.)

You have a good time, pregnant on the beach. Getting massages and spa treatments. Video calling your husband every time the baby kicks and flutters.

Unfortunetly, even though you haven't used the Wayne name since you've been married, some drug lords recognize you and decide to ransom you. Dragging you back to Gotham in your little sundress the just so hides your baby bump.

Gotham media runs with the story. Lost Wayne heiress held hostage. No one is ignoring that.

The bat's pull off a daring rescue, but you being stubborn, try to escape on your own. Fearing for your baby's life if they just happen to chose not to come. They never came when you were little, why would they come now.

You happen to injure yourself while escaping. But, manage to make it to an on scene ambulance while the Bats take care of the thugs. You happen to faint on the way to the hospital, leaving the doctor's discover you pregnancy.

Already the media is surrounding the hospital for the most drama filled story of the year. Thankfully, the paramedics have some compassion in hide the bump when rolling you into the ER.

With the media's attention, your husband flies into Gotham and makes it to the hospital just in time to ask the nurse where you are in front of Bruce.

Bruce, of course, bristles when a man his age burst in the hospital demanding to see you, but is using the wrong last name. The nurse saying only family can see you.

"That's my daughter," Bruce will say. Assuming this man is trying to claim you as his. But, he already did.

Making Bruce, the family, the nurses, the patients, and the reporter who managed to sneak in freeze when he says, "That's my wife."

Imagine the doctor that just finished checking on you and your baby walking in right after announcing that you were both okay. The look on Bruce's face when he realizes that this man, his age, not only married you, but had the audacity to put a baby in you.

Even better, the smug way your husband looks at Bruce when he brushes past him to follow the nurse to your room because husband beats father and you demanded to see him.

The drama that follows is going to be legendary.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: I had this idea jotted down and fluffed it up just for this. I'm not sure you wanna know who I had in mind for Reader's husband. (Dude is from another franchise.) But, the thought of him interacting with Bruce as the guy who married Bruce's daughter and knocked her up, delights me in such a visceral way.

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam x reader #batfamily x reader #platonic batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #anon ask #answered asks #sugar baby!reader

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slut4thebroken · 3 months ago

Text

Mediocre

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Jason Todd x reader

Summary | You’re busy studying, but Jason doesn’t take kindly to your initial rejection.

Warnings | Smut, rough sex, praise, light humiliation, degradation, cockwarming, rough sex, choking, creampie, friends with benefits.

Words | 2.1 k

Notes | Pretend jason lives in the manor lol

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 12 on the desk

“Come in.” You replied to the knock on your door, not looking up from your laptop. You heard the door open and shut and then footsteps before two hands were placed on your shoulders.

“Look at you… being so studious. You know, you should get a plaid skirt, maybe a white button down and a tie.” You felt his lips brush your ear and he whispered, “I’d be very generous when it comes to giving you extra credit.”

You groaned in disgust and jerked your elbow back, but he was already moving out of range before you could hit him. “I don’t have time for this right now, Jason.” You said firmly, trying to ignore his hands running up and down your arms after he stepped closer again.

“Take a break.” He murmured softly, but you knew that voice was just to ‘manipulate’ you.

“I'm not going to stop what I’m doing whenever you want to get your dick wet. And plus, this is more important than a mediocre fuck.” You regretted those words the second they left your mouth.

“Mediocre?” He pulled your wheeled chair away from the desk, then spun your around to face him. Placing his hands on the arms of the chair, he leaned into your space with a knowing smirk. “I’d hardly call making you come six times in one night mediocre.”

“Jason, I’m serious. Not right now.” Despite your words, you could feel arousal pooling in your stomach.

“You don’t even have to do anything, you can keep working on whatever that is.” You eyed him skeptically and he chuckled, then pulled you to your feet. Before you could protest, he was taking your place, so you crossed your arms and raised your brows. When he started unbuttoning his pants, you faltered.

“What are you doing?” You said breathily, watching him pull the zipper down. He took his already half hard cock out, making you inhale sharply. Stroking it slowly, he smirked at you and patted his lap.

“Have a seat, princess.”

“Are you crazy?” You hissed, feeling your cunt start to ache. He just grabbed your skirt and pulled you toward him, then turned you around. Reaching under, he pulled your panties to the side, then moved your hips down until the blunt head of his cock brushed your folds. You let out a startled sound that quickly turned into a low moan when he pulled you down onto his length. It burned a little, to be honest, but- fuck… it felt so good being full again.

Your chest started heaving as you rolled your hips forward with another moan, but he held you still and turned the chair back around to face your laptop.

“Finish your work.” He said simply, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hips.

“I swear to fucking god, Jason,” You growled and his hand shot up to your neck, squeezing tightly. He pulled your head back to lean on his shoulder and put his head next to yours so you could see him.

“Wanna say that again, princess?”

Jason has a certain voice he uses during sex, or just moments like this. It is very very hard for you to disobey him when he uses it and he knows that. Which is why the bastard uses it whenever he can.

You huffed and rolled your eyes, making him smirk as he released your neck. Clearing your throat, you sat up more on his body so you could reach the desk. The new angle forced a choked moan out of you and made him tighten his grip on your hips.

You continued working, considerably slower than before he put his cock in you, and his hands started slowly running up and down your thighs. Your brain was only full of thoughts of him, his hands, his cock, his mouth… You stiffened as he placed an open mouthed kiss on your neck. He lifted a hand to sweep your hair to one side, then continued slowly kissing the exposed skin.

“Jason.” You whined, clenching your thighs together. He roughly pulled them back open, then hooked them over his legs to keep them there, making you let out a long, needy whine. “Please...” You whimpered, clenching around his length. He let out a grunt, then roughly bit the side of your neck in retaliation.

Letting your head fall back on his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut, your hips started rocking back and forth, your sounds getting louder. He brought a hand back up to your neck, squeezing and cutting off your moan, and the other came down hard on your clit in a sharp smack, making you jerk in his grip.

“Fuck!” You cried, gripping the arms of the chair so hard, it made your fingers ache. “Please- I can’t take it anymore!” You let out a choked sob and heard him chuckle darkly against your ear.

“You poor thing.” He cooed mockingly. “Sit on my cock for five minutes and already you’re too cock drunk to think about anything else.” He tutted, making you whine.

“Fuck me.” You mewled, squirming in his lap. He was quiet for a moment and you waited in anticipation for him to start bouncing you on his cock or bend you over your desk or throw you on the bed— anything.

“No.”

You let out a choked sob and he continued teasingly rubbing one hand up and down your thigh. “Why not?” Honestly, you were on the verge of a full blown tantrum, but he didn’t care.

“Finish your work. Then I’ll fuck you.”

“But I can’t focus.” You whined, voice only getting brattier.

“That’s not my fault.”

“Yes it is!” He didn’t say anything else and you whined again, getting more impatient and worked up. “Fine. I’ll just get myself off.” You growled, then started to stand before being roughly pulled back down onto his lap, both of you moaning at the feeling of you sitting fully on his cock once again.

“Go ahead.”

“What?”

“Get yourself off.” He grabbed your hand and pulled it between your legs. You wanted to protest, but you just started rubbing slow circles on your clit instead, letting out a relieved sigh as your walls fluttered around his cock. His grip tightened on your neck and you moved your hand faster, desperately chasing your orgasm. He resumed kissing your neck and shoulder while his free hand held your hip in a firm grip. His touch, the way he felt inside you, and the sounds he was making in response to your body's reactions were all sending you barrelling toward your orgasm.

“I..” you whimpered, canting your hips up into the touch, “fuck- I’m gonna come.” You said through a breath. He roughly pulled your hand away, forcing a choked sob of frustration out of you.

As if he couldn’t handle the teasing any longer, he grabbed your hips and started thrusting up into you, making you cry out, scrambling to get your bearings as he relentlessly bucked up into you. After only another moment, the knot of arousal in your stomach snapped. You distantly heard him moaning behind you but all you could focus on was him pounding your hole and the burning pleasure running through your whole body.

Even after your orgasm faded, he didn’t stop. You whined and tried to lift yourself off of him but he just stood both of you up, his cock never leaving your sensitive cunt, then pushed you onto the desk. He fucked you harder than before, his hand holding you down by your neck while the other pushed your skirt up, then slapped your ass. You yelped embarrassingly— overstimulated and aching, but feeling arousal pooling in your stomach again.

“Fucking take it. You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you.” He growled, as he brutally snapped his hips into you with each thrust, making the desk hit the wall repeatedly.

“Always such a fucking bitch, whining about how I don’t fuck you good as if you’d be satisfied with anyone else.” His voice was breathless, but still malicious as he pounded you harder. “If I’m so mediocre then go ahead, find someone else to fuck you.”

“No.” You said through a desperate mewl, squeezing your eyes shut as your cheeks flushed.

“No?”

“I- I don’t want anyone else.” You whined, feeling your orgasm building again.

“Really? You’re fine with a mediocre fuck?” He sneered.

“You’re not… I’m sorry.”

“Go on, princess. Say it.”

“You're not mediocre.” You muttered, embarrassed.

“What was that?” He raised his voice and landed a warning spank on your ass.

“You’re not a mediocre fuck! Y-You’re not… I’m sorry.” You sobbed. His hands moved to your shoulders and he used that as leverage to pull your back with each thrust, making you all but scream. You scrambled for purchase on the desk, clenching the edge of it until your knuckles turned white. With each rough thrust, your hips were hitting the hard wood, but the little amount of pain was only adding to your arousal.

“When I want to get my fuckin’ dick wet, I don’t give a shit what you’re doing.” He started, his voice already breathless as he panted heavily. “If you’re asleep and I feel like fucking my fleshlight, that’s exactly what I’m gonna fucking do, you understand?” You sobbed out a moan and squeezed your eyes shut as your head fell forward on the desk, making him grab your hair and pull you up until your back was flush with his chest. He wrapped an arm around your stomach as the hand in your hair moved to squeeze your neck, his thrusts never even faltering.

“You’re my fuckin’ whore. I can use you whenever I want, isn't that right, babe?” He cooed mockingly, fucking you harder and faster. He let go of your torso to land a hard slap on your clit, making you cry out. Before your knees could buckle too much, he was wrapping his arm back around your stomach to hold you up. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.” He growled against your ear. Your second orgasm was rapidly approaching, making it harder to come up with a response.

“Yes! W-Whenever you want, Jay.” You whimpered, blushing when you accidentally used his nickname. “I’m your whore— Only for you…” You hoped that your words would make him more likely to let you come again. “Please make me come— I’m so close.” You mewled, back arching away from his body, pushing your hips into him a little more.

He scoffed, but reached down to start rubbing your clit. “So fucking pathetic.” He muttered, making you whine as your cheeks heated up.

“Jay..” You sobbed out, eyes closing as you focused on your impending release.

“Is your needy pussy gonna cream all over my dick again?” He cooed mockingly and all you could do was nod— you were too close to give a shit about how humiliating your wanton behavior was. “Go ahead then, princess. Show me how much you want it.” He growled, hips speeding up and bucking into you even harder.

Your whole body tensed as the knot of arousal in your stomach wound up until it finally snapped, sending you over the edge with an embarrassing moan. When your knees buckled, he let go of your neck to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you up, while still rubbing your clit.

Barely a second after your orgasm faded, Jason was pushing you down onto the desk again and rapidly bucking into you. He held onto your hips with a bruising grip as he pounding your sore cunt almost brutishly until he finally slammed in all the way with a grunt. You whined and squeezed your thighs together as he groaned behind you, his hips sporadically flinching forward, trying to bury his cock even deeper inside you. He rode out his release until every last drop of his seed was inside you, then he finally went still for a few seconds as he recovered.

“Good girl.” He gruffed, panting quietly. You whimpered when he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped out of your pussy with a wet squelch. As always, he grabbed your ass and spread you open to get a good look at his come leaking out of your puffy folds. After the first glob fell down to the floor, he pulled your underwear back in place, then tucked his cock in his pants again and buckled his belt. You remained bent over the desk, your legs still quivering from the intense fucking you just endured. “Thanks, babe.” He said through a breath, giving your ass a teasing slap before walking out of your room, leaving you completely spent, but undoubtedly satisfied.

Idk how much I like that ending but oh well lol

#jason todd #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #reader is part of the bat fam #but the fic doesn’t go into details about it lol

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izadi234 · 3 months ago

Text

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader Chapters Chapter 1 (You're here) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 1

You can't remember a time when you didn't live under the roof of Wayne Manor. Those hallways that for a 4-year-old child seemed chilling and eternal, today you consider a prison. And no, they don't keep you locked up or anything like that, in fact they give you a lot of freedom within this house, but you can consider that so-called 'freedom' as negligence.

Yes, negligence. Of course you had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, a roof to shelter in, but what about love? If they could ask you if you have ever felt loved in your home, the answer would be simple.

No not once

Bruce Wayne, your father, may be one of the biggest billionaires in this world but it seems his love and attention was limited towards you. But, with your brothers? It seemed to be an endless well of love and patience that he gave them.

Unconditional love, something you always looked for.

Or maybe he was busy owning one of the most successful companies in the world or cosplaying a vampire to help the city.

Yes… in short, Bruce no longer knew what excuse to give himself for not spending time with you.

And your brothers? They weren't much better. Richard "Dick" Grayson may be very loving and charming but with you? You were just a zero on the left. He didn't think you needed attention as much as his traumatized brothers and sisters. You, being a normal civilian, knew that you were safe from anything, so he only limited himself to greeting you with that little smile that at first seemed warm to you, but now it just cracks your teeth to see it.

As if he were the perfect brother.

Jason Todd was everything to you until it became nothing. You met him in his days as Robin and the truth is he was nice to you and you had a good relationship with him (they are only three years apart). When Dick wasn't at the mansion he would play with you and let you watch him train. He was your greatest confidant, your best friend… Until the Joker killed him. When he came back to life you couldn't recognize him, was he really your brother? A being full of hate and revenge? So much so that even though he saw you once after years, he just turned around.

And although he already has a better relationship with his family, it seems that your loving relationship as brothers ended that day he died. He didn't even look at you, much less talk to you.

What a hypocrite.

You can't say anything about Timothy Drake. Seriously, and it's not because he's a great brother, it's because you've literally never talked to him. You only know of his existence because of the times Dick shouted his name in excitement at him every time he came to the mansion and because you found out that Todd wanted to kill him. Furthermore, your room and his are in the same hallway with the slight difference that your room was at the end.

Spoiled child...

Damian Wayne was a totally unique case. He was violent and explosive but apparently your father preferred him over you. Damian considered you a zero on the left. He never found value in you, neither in your physique (you didn't fight), nor in your mind (you're not outstanding) so he didn't waste even a second insulting you or degrading you.

According to him, you were just a nuisance to the Wayne family and a disappointment to the Batfamily. And it didn't matter if you were going to complain to Bruce about Damian's behavior, he always made excuses for it.

Is this how unconditional love looks like?

Cassandra Cain was another ghost like you inside the mansion... With the only difference that she did pay attention to her even though she didn't talk much. She was never interested in interacting with you even though you tried several times.

Even a mute could attract more attention than you...

Stephanie Brown. An extroverted girl who wasn't afraid to give her opinion, but apparently she didn't have any opinion about you. She always gets excited to see others and she was quick to look for things to do with them. But, if she saw you, she would just give you a slightly awkward smile and she would get out of there quickly.

She runs away from you like you have the plague.

Barbara Gordon is seen by most of the family as an older sister, however you see her as a grumpy secretary. You could be the most respectful person in the world towards her but just seeing you next to her asking what she was doing made her look at you as if you were a villain she is looking for.

I'm sure she hasn't seen a villain with the irritation she sees you with.

Duke Thomas is the new addition to the Wayne Family. You have nothing against him, he is a kind and smiling boy. Who you could even consider to be the kindest to you of all your brothers.

When he first came to Wayne Manor, despite you being a nobody in that family, he took an interest in you. At first you thought he did it out of pity, but when one day you heard him asking Alfred where you were because he wanted to show you something, that's when you realized he wasn't doing it out of pity. And that made you feel special, being the sibling Duke turned to.

But you couldn't help but hate how easily he integrated into the family. How easily they accepted him.

And last but not least, Alfred Pennyworth. He tried to be there for you and he encouraged you to keep trying to get your family's attention. But even with the butler's attention you couldn't help but long for the affection of your father and brothers.

You are more sure that without him you would have gone crazy in that big mansion.

For that reason, the only ones you would miss once you left that place would be Alfred and Duke.

"Would you be mad at me if I decided to leave the mansion?”

What a bad way to start a conversation.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter. As was custom you watched Alfred make breakfast, occasionally helping him. The butler, upon hearing your question, momentarily stopped what he was doing. Thanks to his poker face, Alfred didn't show any surprise but you knew well that he wasn't expecting that question.

"Pardon me, master (name)?”

"Would you forget about me if I left the mansion?" you asked

"Of course not!" Alfred quickly answered, his tone of voice a little high. However, upon noticing the change in his tone of voice he composed his posture again.

“I mean, of course I would never forget you, master (name). Why do you ask me those questions?”

"You know why Alfie" you sighed.

Alfred likewise sighed and turned off the stove where he was cooking. He walked over to you and sat down in front of you.

"Master (name)…" he was saying but you interrupted him.

"No Alfred… Could you let me talk… please..?" you asked gently but firmly

"Since I came to this place fifteen years ago I have always been part of the ghosts of this mansion and- and I got tired of being that. For a long time I have been thinking about moving somewhere else, away from this mansion, away from them…” You said that last sentence angrier but you controlled your temper.

"But… I can't leave knowing that you don't agree with my decision. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me.”

You couldn't even imagine a world where he, Alfred Pennyworth, the man who decided to take your father's tablecloth, was angry with you. But even if he gets angry at your decision, you are going to follow your plan to leave the city.

Alfred smiled slightly and took your hand.

"You know very well that I would support you in whatever my little one does. Unless that decision put your life in danger of course" they both laughed at that comment.

"So that's a yes?" you asked with hope in your eyes and voice

"Yes" he nodded "Just take care of yourself"

You could see in his eyes that there was a bit of fear in his eyes as well as something else that you didn't know what it was and you didn't pay attention to it at that moment.

You should have paid more attention to him in that moment.

"Thanks Alfie" you hugged him regardless of the fact that the table was between the two of you. The butler hugged you anyway, his hug felt warm and safe.

"You don't have to thank me, Master (name)"

Then you broke away from the hug and ran to your room with a big smile on your face. You were finally going to be able to live the way you wanted, without living in the shadow of everyone. Finally free.

Once in your room you started making some calls and organizing your things quietly (not that the inhabitants of this mansion cared much about what you did) so as not to attract attention. In a week, this place will only be a bad dream and you will be able to move from this nightmare to a dream with a happy ending.

Or not?

Hellooo! I hope you liked the start of this story! To be honest, this has been something I have wanted to do for a long time. And Let me remind you that English isn't my first language so if you find some mistakes I would appreciate fo you to tell me in a good way.

Anyway, if you liked it I'll appreciate for you leave a heart.

See you in the next one!!

-Izadi <3

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z4rph1m · 2 months ago

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Platonic Yan!Batfam X dazai!GNreader X Yandere DC

Mix of neglected batfam and based of port mafia dazai with a small slice of ada dazai

Forgotten child

Pro. (You are here) Ch.1 Ch.2

A bastard is what you are

You were a result of a one night stand between Bruce Wayne and your mother who you don’t or will ever know the name of.

How’d you know his your father? A simple DNA test.

Who would’ve thought that a child of a billionaire Bruce Wayne would ended up in the mafia.

As much as you want to know more about your mother, it was quickly dialed down by one sentence.

“Traitors doesn’t deserve to have their name pass down”

Mori isn’t really the best person to look up to

You were at the very least 5 or older when the GCPD took you away, you don’t remember.

Alfred was the one who pick you up from the investigation.

He remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

You, a malnourished child who stayed still, staring into the darkness with no light in their eyes, bandages covering you.

It was a pity sight.

A few calling of your name to realized it time to go to your new ‘home’

You move as if you’re not even human, instead a doll who was abandoned and left to rot.

With what left of your belongings, if you even had any, Alfred with his gentle nature guided you to the car.

You didn’t even made a breathing sound, only blinking and constant fidgeting to your doll.

He tried his best to struck up a conversation with you, such as “how are you?” Yet only to be replied back with either a deafening silence or words barely above a whisper.

You were a child yet have suffered so much beyond to see the light of hope.

Only when you’ve arrived at the manor is when you started clinging more to him. Maybe it your nature as a child to be nervous to go to your new home.

With what left of your innocence, you looked up to him with a pleading look , “don’t…. Don’t let go please….”

Your voice was hoarse and dehydrated but it still sounded as if you were afraid of being left alone.

Probably the effect of losing the only person whom you know and trust.

When you cling onto him is when he took note of your entire appearance.

Yes you were covered in bandages but those bandages were not only dirty but also covered in red streaks of blood and was layered below the fresh white one.

Your clothes had some torn at end, hair being messy and full of knots, sections of your skin having bruises.

Alfred was more than ready to hold your hand while guiding you to wherever you two go together.

Yes the absent of your family saddened you but Alfred company was what you wanted.

You didn’t care for the others, not when they ignore you 90% of the time and not when Alfred is there with whenever he has the chance.

In your mind, Bruce Wayne is not your father no, instead it was Alfred Pennyworth.

But even that doesn’t stop you from being what you are now.

Bruce Wayne, the man who is your supposed father. Do you hate him? Not really.

You can’t really hate a man you barely know your whole life.

And it wasn’t hard to learn what does he do for a living other than being a man whore.

He bare- actually never even had a proper conversation that lasted more than 3 seconds.

The dude didn’t even notice the increasing amount of bandages when you first stared in the port mafia.

Richard Grayson, the second person to talk to you after Alfred. Do you also hate him? A mix feeling really.

You know about him more than you know about Bruce, on what he doing when he’s Nightwing, what he’s favourite food, and just the minimalist stuff.

You don’t exactly have the right feeling to describe your relationship with him.

Do you talk? Barely. Do you have a proper conversation? Never. Spend time together? Nope.

In short, you don’t think the two of you are fitted to be considered siblings.

Jason Todd, was probably the closest to you.

You saw him being taken in as a robin and died as a robin.

Yes you two mocked eachother in terms of whatever you can remember but at the very least there was interactions between the two of you in comparison to the others.

As much as you hated it, you did infact miss his presence when he died.

Timothy Drake was the most distant than all of them combine. The two of you didn’t have a single conversation or even a single sentence to eachother.

You knew well he’s a fan of Batman and probably didn’t even knew you existed or just didn’t care since you’re not one of the vigilante.

Not that you care, you never identify yourself as a Wayne anyway

Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown and Barbara Gordon…… how should you describe them….

Just like Tim, you don’t exist in their world, but instead a background character.

You were sure that they can’t even remember your name properly without mispronouncing.

But You do sure as hell do love it when you’re given a nickname by someone

Last of all, Your half Brother. Damian Wayne, as much as the two of you barely talk, the first meeting wasn’t very welcoming.

Almost being impaled doesn’t give out a nice first impression after all.

You mostly try your best to ignore the insults and the degrading words from him.

The little kid barely met you yet for some reason hold a deep hatred for you like you did something illegal.

You’re currently standing in front of a grave….. someone who was there to take care of you in the port mafia.

You stare blankly at the grave, not knowing what to do, wether to breakdown and cry or to leave it alone.

You were trembling, sweating and on the verge of actually breaking down yet something is holding you back.

Oda Sakunosuke

Your father figure after Alfred is dead.

Ango is right by your side trying his best to comfort you.

As much as you were a demon prodigy, he knew that deep down there’s a child who’s unable to act like one.

You shrugged him off before walking away to do a phone call.

“Alfred….? I know it’s a sudden but…. Please clean up my room…… I no longer staying at the manor from now on”

You try your best to held in your tears but your voice betrays you, and Alfred knows that.

He swallow a lump in his throat before replying, “don’t worry Master [N], I understand. But do please remember that I will always be there to welcome you”

He was the only one who knows about your work in the Port Mafia and the only one who you trusted to told it too.

He knows about the people you met and the people who you befriended.

He understands how a death of one of them can put you on the verge of losing what left in your humanity and to live.

And he knows that the death of your second father figure can cause you distorted in many ways.

Inspired by @-acid-ixx again & again series and @-marcyvampire silly little bat.

#yandere batfam #crossover #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere batboys

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d4yl1ghts · 8 months ago

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pleasure

anthony bridgerton x wife, fem!reader

summary: after a game of pall mall, anthony realises he has been neglecting his wife

warnings: nudity, orgasm, cunnilingus, p in v, fingering, praise kink, expeditionist kink, breeding kink, semi-public sex, breast play, unprotected sex, allusions to anxiety (maybe), arranged marriage, argument, dom!anthony, sub!reader

You sighed to yourself as you nervously wrung your fingers out in front of yourself. You were in the carriage on the way to your arranges husband’s manor. You always became anxious when meeting people that you did not know well even if you had already met them once before. Truly, you adored Anthony’s family but it was still nerve inducing.

Your husband sat opposite you, gazing peacefully out of the window. This was how your carriage rides were normally spent. In silence. You are typically quiet anyway and for Anthony it would depend on his mood. However, even when the two of you were alone he refused to speak to you.

Suddenly, the carriage halted and Anthony assisted you out of the carriage but that was the only touching you would ever do. The only night you both had spent together was your wedding night. You made your way to the entrance, hanging behind Anthony a bit. “Mother.”, Anthony hung his head in greeting. “Lady Bridgerton.”, you copied your husband’s actions. She smiled and stated: “Call me Violet, Y/N.”

She then guided the two of you inside. You stood off to the side as Anthony’s siblings welcomed him. Eloise noticed you standing quietly and walked over to you. “Hello, Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, she said. “You as well, Eloise.”, you gently smiled. Your eyes strayed to Anthony’s figure and so did Eloise’s. “Has he been annoying you recently? He certainly annoyed me when I lived with him.”, she questioned. “Of course. He wouldn’t be himself if he wasn’t annoying.”, you replied. Eloise laughed slightly and you laughed along with her but it was almost in spite of your husband. You hated him but at the same time you loved him. He certainly hated you.

Benedict then led you all outside for a game of pall mall. You had never played it before and so Colin taught you the rules. “How shall we choose who gets which mallet? I think the guest should get the first choice.”, Benedict stated as he looked to you. Anthony reached out before Benedict hit his hand away. “Not you, Anthony. I’m talking to Y/N.”, he said annoyed. You noticed Anthony’s hand attempt to grab the black one before and so you choose that one just to aggravate him. “Great choice, Y/N!”, Colin chuckled. You turned to look at Anthony and saw his brooding look and tried to contain your giggles.

“Everybody get your mallets.”, Benedict said as they all raced to get their mallet. All except Anthony who was left to the pink one. He huffed in annoyance and you went to stand beside Eloise. “Look at Anthony. There’s practically steam coming out of his ears.”, you laughed. Anthony heard his name and turned to glare at you. You shut up.

“Y/N, you can have the first hit.”, Daphne offered. You slowly walked up and tried to ignore how everyone was focusing on you. You carefully aimed and then hit it. It was just wide of the goal. “That was awful.”, you stated. “Nobody gets it in first try, Y/N. In fact, that was perhaps the best first attempt I have ever seen.”, Daphne responded reassuringly. You turned to move out of the way for the next person’s go and made eye contact with Anthony who looked exceedingly angry compared to before. His eyes bore into you and he looked as if he was trying to decipher something.

It was now Anthony’s turn. He managed to hit your ball onto the opposite side of the field. You rolled your eyes as you began your stroll over. Anthony offered to go with you. You ignored him and continued. He followed anyway. You finally found the ball and noticed your husband. “Why are you following me?”, you blatantly asked. “You’re my wife.”, he simply stated. “Am I?”, you replied. He tilted his head in confusion. “Yes. How would you not be?”

“You do not treat me as such.”, you continued. “We have only ever once been intimate. At our wedding night. You barely even touch me, never mind intimately.”, you sighed as tears pooled in your eyes. He gazed at you. “Is that truly how you feel?”

You nodded, unable to form words. Tears slid down your cheeks. “I did not mean to make you feel as such. I didn’t want to hurt you. I am not made to be a husband or father. I am not made to love or to be loved.”, he responded as water filled his eyes. “But Anthony, you’ve been a father for your whole life. You raised your siblings and you did a great job at it.”, you stared at him with a sad expression. He looked up at you and took in your understanding tone. He gently caressed your face.

You gazed into his eyes. You were both so vulnerable. Anthony’s lips crashed onto yours and you sighed with content. You pulled away for air. “Anthony, please.”, you moaned as you moved your hands into his hair. “Please what?”, he asked teasingly. “Touch me. We have missed a year of this and are yet to make an heir so fuck me like it.”, you bravely admitted. He smirked before inserting two fingers up your dress and into your cunt. He let out a sigh as he felt how wet you were. “Good girl.”, he praised.

You moaned at his praise. “Need more.”, you mumbled. He leant down and pushed his face up your dress and began kitten licking your pussy. You gently guided his head against you. He still had his fingers pumping in and out of you as he licked up and down your slick folds. He felt your walls clench against his tongue and let out a sound that sent vibrations down your cunt. You grabbed the edge of your dress to ease the pressure building up within you.

You felt yourself cum as Anthony made sure to swallow it all. He then left from beneath your dress and licked the last of your slick from his lips. He moved his hands to your corset and his eyes looked to you for permission. You nodded breathlessly. He delicately removed your garments with expertise.

He hastily removed his breeches and released his erection. He bowed down to lick your hardening nipples and he even abruptly bit them. “Anthony…”, you moaned. He heard your desperate cry and lined himself up with your entrance. Slowly, he entered you and allowed you time to adjust to him. He then began to thrust in and out of you. You grinded against him, causing him to fasten his pace as he knew you wanted more.

He rested his head against your breasts and gently kissed them, occasionally leaving love bites. Anthony then adapted his position to reach deeper into you. He felt you tighten around his length and his cock began to twitch at the sudden pressure against him. You let the euphoria take you away and Anthony soon followed. He made sure to continue pushing into you as he came. After all, you had wanted to make an heir. He groaned before carefully and slowly removing himself from you. He rolled off of you and kissed your temple as he moved to hold you.

“Dear, we should probably head back. It has taken us a while to find the ball.”, he chuckled and you tiredly laughed. He put his breeches back on and helped you into your dress. He attempted to do your corset up but he only knew how to undo them, not tie them up and so it was slightly loose. He only hopes his family wouldn’t notice. You started your journey back to the pall mall match with Anthony’s help as your legs were slightly wobbly.

Your hair looked similar to as it had before. Luckily, you had requested your maid to only curl it and add a pin (you weren’t one for all the fuss of doing your hair) and so it was nothing extravagant so it was easy to set it back to how it was. As soon as you arrived back, you realised the game had come to an end. “Who won?”, Anthony asked. “Colin.”, Benedict replied. “Why did you take so long?”, Colin questioned. “You could have won, brother. Actually, Y/N, you could have won.”, he added. Violet came outside to check on everyone as she had heard the conversation. It didn’t take her long to realise what had happened. She glanced at the steady hold Anthony had on you, the slight tone in your cheeks and your legs that looked as if they would collapse at any moment if Anthony’s hold was not so strong. She smiled to herself. She knew that the arranged marriage would work. You two were meant for each other, no matter how you wished to deny it.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton one shot #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader #fem!reader

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alyakthedorklord · 2 years ago

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Au where the Drake’s don’t die (they’re just bad parents) and as Tim gets older they start spending a SLIGHT bit more time with him to train him to take over Drake industries. They start trying to set up a marriage to a daughter of a good family for Tim, but he’s dating Bernard, who is not only a man but from a “subpar family.” They demand he break it off.

Tim refuses to break up with his boyfriend, threatens causing a huge scandal and making out with Bernard in public if they engage him to anyone.

Jack and Janet threaten to disown him, bc they think Tim’s been living the soft cushy house (manor) life hidden away from the world on thier money this whole time, so they’re all, “You’ll come crawling back, you need us and our money, this will teach you a lesson.”

Tim, who has been practically independent since he was four, has extensive robin training, access to zetatubes, powerful friends (and enemies) in every major city across the world, at least eight fully stocked safehouses in Upper Gotham alone, a personal bank account under his own name with combined Drake and Wayne allowance, at this point is only in Drake manor when his parents are here (a week with an important gala every four months maybe) and has LITERALLY had a discussion with Bruce about a custody battle due to negligence so he can call himself a Wayne on paper not even a week before, just laughs.

“This is Gotham. I’ll get Bruce Wayne to adopt me.”

That makes them mad. His parents show him the disowning paperwork and kick him out. Tim doesn’t even run to Wayne Manor, he meanders over while tapping at his phone.

Bruce already had the paperwork ready. The Drakes don’t know what’s happening before it’s too late. Tim is a Wayne. They try to challenge it but they relinquished all rights and Tim has receipts of parental neglect and also he already has a room at the manor.

Tim takes over as Wayne Industries CEO (the sooner the funnier) and immediately starts being awesome at it, smug ass grin in every photo, the other Waynes cackling in the background as the Drakes seethe and thier stocks plummet. The next gala they go to, Bruce makes absolutely sure to turn to Tim and go, “So son, when is your boyfriend coming over for dinner?”

Bernard comes back from a family camping trip to find out his boyfriend started an upper crust civil war for the right to date him. And also he’s invited to Wayne Manor. Wtf Tim.

#jason calls bernard helen of troy #bernard is on tims arm #in a fancy suit #he’s just happy to have front row seats to all this drama #the drakes are crumbling #tim drake #bernard dowd #tim x bernard #bruce wayne #dc prompt #batfam #batfamily

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fanaticalthings · 6 months ago

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Most children, once they've grown up and moved out, sometimes come back to visit their parents to use their house as a sort of personal grocery store

And with Bruce being a literal billionaire whose house is always stocked with food and supplies, the batkids (that aren't living in the manor) definitely visit just for the purpose of taking shit for themselves.

---

For Dick, it's just small things, food and maybe some utensils. Bruce is barely in the kitchen so he never notices dishes go missing, and there are like 10 other children in his house so literally any one of the younger kids could've stolen food in the middle of the night, so he doesn't bat an eye at all.

Babs probably steals Bruce's hardware or his tools from the batcave. Sometimes, if she's nice, she'll leave a note.

Steph probably takes shit that no one will notice at the time but will absolutely be annoyed about when they need said thing. Stapler, soap bars, the microwave plate, etc...(Taking after Jason, she steals the hub caps off the batmobile's tires)

However, for Jason, once his relationship with Bruce is somewhat decent, of course he's gonna be petty and start stealing the more expensive shit in the manor for his apartment. Jason's microwave is broken? The next day, the cave's self-made and enhanced microwave made by Bruce for convenience is just gone.

Jason's feeling a coffee maker for his place? The one in Bruce's study disappears, too.

---

At first, Bruce thinks he's just sleep deprived, but then much bigger things start to go missing, like the whole TV and couch set in the living room. He assumes the younger kids are just playing pranks on him (sounds like something Stephanie would do) but then Bruce notices that the thief deliberately avoids stealing things from the kitchen, which is where Alfred is most of the time, and suddenly Bruce has an irritated clue on who the culprit is.

At first, he doesn't say anything, until one day he comes back, tired from a patrol, and is about to log in all the info on the computer only to realize his batchair is gone. That's when he texts Jason a blunt "If you really need things for your place, you can just ask me. I'll buy them for you." (As if Jason himself isn't loaded from his totally legal activities)

---

So now Jason's pettiness levels increase tenfold, and oh, wouldn't you look at it, his bike needs some new tires, and he knows a great place to get some more.

One night, Bruce is just blearily getting up for a late night snack, only to see Damian scamper away with a...lamp? So Bruce immediately follows him into the foyer only to see ALL of his kids (sans the ones not living in the manor), trying to haul two arm chairs out the window, and they just stop dead silent to stare at him until someone whispers a nervous "Crap"

Bruce doesn't even have any energy to fight, he just pinches his nose and is all "What is the meaning of this" in his tired dad voice. And Duke meekly responds with "we wanted more chairs at Jason's place"

And suddenly it all makes sense. Not once did Bruce wonder how the HELL Jason managed to lug a whole 60in TV and a full couch set on his own in one night. Of course, he had accomplices. Bruce just turns right around and goes right the hell back to his room to sleep. He'll deal with this in the morning.

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cutebat · 5 months ago

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Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

The First Page

Warning(s): Neglect, emotional abuse, physical abuse, mind break (There are no yandere themes yet, but will be in another chapter)

(This chapter is basically the first part of the prologue and some things fixed)

~~~~~

10 years old.

You were only 10 years old when the Gotham's billionaire, Bruce Wayne, entered through the doors of the orphanage that you lived under of.

You could remember the owner holding your hand as she lead you to the man who is going to be your father.

You remember when he placed his hand on your head as he introduced himself to you and promised that he'll give you a great life.

You remember when you came to the manor as he introduced you to your new family that consists of four new older brothers, one new older sister, and a butler.

You remember when everyone would talk to you and welcome you with loving embraces.

You also remember a few days foward when Bruce gave you a costume that resembled a white dress with pink details, which earned you the title of Batgirl.

And after all of that, it's like it never happened.

~~~~~

You are now being ignored by everyone.

Nobody gave you a glance, made excuses, and basically beat the shit out of you. Well, not exactly.

For example, there was one day when you came up to Bruce with a flyer in your hand.

"Um, hi, Bruce... I know you're busy right now, but... I'm going to have a school play and I got the main role. So... I hope you can stop by and watch."

You tell him in the nicest way possible.

However, Bruce was so focused on his paperwork that he didn't give you a glance. All he said was...

"Hm? Yeah, I'll go check it out if I finish all of this."

And suprise, suprise, he never showed up.

This resulted in you crying in the girl's restroom all alone in your costume.

~~~~~

There was also a time when you felt like you needed to train more, so you did it by going up to Dick who seems to be training with Damian.

"Um, guys? Can I join you two?"

You ask as you smile awkwardly as your two older brothers turned to you.

Which is why you became surprised when Dick smiles.

"Sure! But, do you mind if you wait until me and Damian are done with this sparring session? It won't take too long."

He said with a chuckle as Damian looked like he was glaring at his little sister.

You didn't want to be rude, which is why you just nodded before you went over to the corner and watched your brothers train.

As an hour passed, Dick and Damian stopped, which made you take the chance to finally train with them.

However, you seemed confused when you saw the two turning around and walking out of the batcave.

"He-Hey, Dick? I thought you and Damian were going to train with me."

You speak up in a timid tone, which the two clearly heard.

"Oh, about that. Sorry, (name), but we were already planning to go to the cafe for a break. Maybe tomorrow, okay?"

Dick said with an 'apologetic' expression before he leaves with Damian.

Because of this, you never asked him to train with you again.

~~~~~

These were all easily common, but there were some moments when it scarred you.

One time, Tim was basically forced to bring you to a mission along with his friends.

As the patrol went on, you seemed to get distracted a bit when you spotted Conner having some trouble.

Because of this, you left the scene and quickly dived in and fought alongside the teenage Kryptonian. Thanks to you, everything was handled.

Conner thanked you before someone yelled out your name. This made you jolt as you turned to see an angry Tim storming over to you.

Before you can say anything, he cuts you in.

"What on earth were you doing?! I told you to stay where you are, and you just had to ignore everything I say, don't you?!"

He yells as if someone murdered his close family member.

This made you so shocked as Conner was stunned. When Cassie and Bart came over to the spot, they were both shocked to see their friend, yelling at his little sister.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down, Tim. (name) didn't do anything wrong. I was the one who called her over to help me."

Conner defends you, but of course, Tim doesn't listen.

"Don't even try to defend her! She knows what she did! Oh, I am SO going to report this to Batman, so don't even try to cover yourself up!"

Tim said in a frustrated and angry tone towards you before he used his grappling hook and swooped down, leaving you behind with his friends.

"Hey, what the hell, asshole!"

Conner shouts out at his friend as he was shocked to him this angry.

He lets out a sigh before he looks over to see Cassie and Bart, comforting you as you are crying in their arms.

~~~~~

Yelling wasn't the only thing that you had to endure.

You even went through moments when things got a little too... physical.

It all happened when you were just trying to help someone in need.

You were walking down the hallway during the night as you just wanted a cup of water. As you were wandering down the hallway, you noticed some voices from someone's bedroom.

Jason's bedroom.

This made you curious as you got close to the door to hear Jason talking amongst himself as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He kept muttering stuff out of his mouth, which made you worried.

That is when you made a mistake by going inside.

"Jason...? Are you okay?"

You ask in a timid voice.

At that moment, Jason snaps his head towards you before everything starts to go blur. All you remember is him grabbing something like a pole type object before it was brought down towards your head.

And then, you woke up in your own bedroom, except you have a bandage wrapped around your head.

When you sat up, all you saw was Alfred, the family's loyal butler. No sign of your other family around, concerning about you.

Luckily, you recovered, and the wound went away after a month.

And, of course, Jason never apologized for what he did to you.

~~~~~

A few months was in, and no improvement has been made. You were always ignored. They made excuses of not wanting to spend time with you, and some of them actually hit you a few times.

All of that happened to your ten year old self.

But, did you give up on that spot? Nope.

You discovered on the internet what you can do to please your family to gain their attention. There were a lot of results, but the one that kept popping up the most was trying to reach your best achievements, which would result in them showing you more support from them.

And that's what you did.

You started to join in many after-school activities and studied all your might. It was tiring, and you almost passed out from exhaustion, but you kept going because you wanted at least your family to notice you.

The problem is that they never did.

They never congratulated you, celebrated on your accomplishment, and most of all, they didn't even give you a glance when you showed off.

All of that for nothing. Damn.

~~~~~

The breaking point wasn't because of all that. It was when someone else entered the family.

Duke Thomas.

A metahuman teenager whose parents died from the Joker Venom.

You thought that they might treat him the same way that they had treated you.

But, nothing.

Duke was showered with love, attention, and even praise.

The things that you never got when you came here.

Whenever you pass by whatever event that they're holding, you will always see them together. Being all happy, chatting, and laughing with one another.

They never do that when they're around you. Even on your birthdays. Actually, when was the last time they all celebrated your birthday?

At that moment, something inside you just snapped. Like, a loud crack echoes through your head that makes a loud ringing sound, kind of like a wake-up call.

Then, it all clicked.

They never cared about you.

They never even liked you.

The only reason why Bruce adopted you is because nobody wanted to.

~~~~~

The thoughts kept running through your head as you walked into an alleyway with a trash bag in hand.

Earlier today at school, you dropped out the clubs that you absolutely hated and pretty much just purposely laid back in your classes.

You feel empty.

When you finally reach the dumpster, you got on top of some stacked boxes because of your height and open the large lid.

You could only stare inside that had a lot of black colored trash bags. Your eyes were blank as you stared down inside.

That's when you muttered out.

"Why even bother...?"

With that, you tossed the trash bag that you were holding on into the dumpster.

After what it felt like hours, you finally got off of the boxes that you were standing on top of before you walked out of the alleyway.

As you walked away, something fell out of the trash bag that you threw out.

It was a white bat eared helmet.

The accessory that once matched with your costume.

That's right.

You were no longer Batgirl.

You never were, anyway.

•

Taglist: @somebodyrandom-613 @delias-stuff @endism @ragdol-666 @snowy-violet @sleepydhanie @missikkj @k1ttys-w0rld @box-of-kinderjoy @thetreefairypersonalblog @thelibraryofdeez @animegoddess15

(If you want to be on the taglist, let me know!)

#yandere #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batfam #batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere platonic #neglected reader #platonic #yandere dc

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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago

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Hello! Thank you for feeding us the angstier timeline of the dukedom au!! I live for angst

You don’t have to entertain this thought ofc, the angst and how good you write for my brain worms worming. I just can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if König wasn’t there and instead the duchess had to suffer all on her own

(Or better yet, if he was there but ended up also leaving the duchess for someone else or was killed protecting the duchess)

Reader having to endure everything on her own which eventually leads her to falling terribly ill and in the olden times we all know how a simple cold could turn into more and yield deadly results

The stress combined with the overall lack of appetite (and the food not cooked well at times to add to that… more angst (: ) as well as other factors rendered the reader terribly ill

Maybe she fell into a body of water and had to save herself, or maybe she was caught up in a rainy storm on a walk with no one offering her warm clothing or a cover up until she eventually managed to get back that leads to pneumonia

Maybe she gets injured but hides it until the blood loss gets to her and infection sets in

Just so many options and flavours of angst

Anyway, thank you for sharing your writing with us! Agin, you don’t have to engage with this, so please don’t feel pressured!! I’m just having many thoughts and am currently going feral /pos

WAITTT WAIT I LOVE THIS

Because imagine clinging to König, to your one singular source of comfort in a manor that has no room for you, and in the end, he leaves as well.

You had been telling yourself that you had been simply more imaginative lately; König was simply busy, he wasn’t growing more and more distant! The way he looks at you now compard to before hasn’t changed. At all. His responses were in hums and nods, noncommittal but that’s okay, sometimes you did not feel like speaking- like existing- either.

Until he stands in your office, the light from the windows reflecting off his armour. You had been happy to see him, a smile on your lips to be in the company of the only one who didn’t seem to despise you.

When he tells you that he will not be doing this anymore, it feels, for a very split second, like your heart shatters into a thousand tiny pieces. You can feel the shattering of each, single piece.

Better place. He says, pity in his eyes but no regret. He pauses for a second. I wish… the best for you.

König leaves you like that; staring after his back in abject horror. Every step he takes echoes in your ears, until you are left alone in your office, hands trembling, and your ears ringing.

After that day, everything practically crumbled. You crumbled.

Without him, the weight of your isolation became unbearable. The disdain of the household grew sharper once it became known your only solace was no longer there, the whispers more cutting. Meals came cold, uneaten. Sleep eluded you, and the constant stress gnawed away at your strength.

One fateful day, you went outside in a desperate bid to escape the suffocation. The air was crisp, the sky gray with the promise of rain, and yet you still did not turn back. You wandered farther than you intended, your steps aimless even as the first drops began to fall.

The storm came quickly afterwards, drenching you to the bone. Your thin cloak offered little protection, and the chill seeped deep into your skin. By the time you returned, trembling and soaked, no one was waiting to help you. No fire had been lit in your chambers; no warm blanket was offered, and no company was given.

The fever began that very night, burning through you with a strength that left you bedridden. Days passed in a haze of pain and delirium. The wound you had hidden- an injury from your fall in the storm- festered, the infection spreading rapidly through your weakened body. You hadn’t the strength to call for help, nor the faith that anyone would come even if you did hoarse out your voice in your attempts.

Only when your condition worsened and you really, truly disappeared out of view, the household finally took notice. Whispers swirled, faint echoes beyond the fog of your fading consciousness, and everyone became alert of your absence, meals returned untouched and maids reporting it’s weeks since they’d helped you with anything.

John sat in his study, nursing a glass of whiskey as the fire crackled in the hearth. He told himself your absence didn’t matter- that you were retreating because you’d finally realized the truth. But when he closed his eyes, he saw your face as it had been on your wedding day- hopeful, trusting, and unaware of the coldness that would greet you.

Simon found himself pacing the halls around your room more often than usual. He would glance toward your chambers but never step inside, convincing himself it wasn’t his concern. And yet, something about the silence unsettled him.

Johnny had begun to notice the meals sent to your chambers were left untouched, the plates returned barely touched or sometimes not taken at all. He hadn’t cared at first, dismissing it as you sulking because no one was giving you attention. But now the thought lingered- had you even been eating at all?

Even Kyle, with his sharp tongue and sharper gaze, felt the unease creeping in. He found himself hesitating when passing your door, his usual indifference cracking as guilt gnawed at him.

In the end, it’s Kyle who couldn’t stand the silence anymore. He stepped into your room, telling himself it was simply to prove to himself that you were fine and just- sulking.

The sight stopped him cold.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn, and the air heavy with the faint, sour scent of illness. You lay motionless on the bed, your body shockingly frail, your skin damp with fever. Your hair clung to your forehead, and your breathing was shallow, each breath rattling in your chest.

You didn’t even notice him. Not even when he turned around and barked sharply for John, for a doctor now. You didn’t notice him at all. Not him, not John or Simon or Johnny when they appear while the maids run to get the doctor.

(Kyle will never tell anyone how utterly sick he felt upon seeing the dried tear-tracks on your face. The unfinished, rotten meals near the bed. The tear spots on your pillows. He will never, ever forget today. He doubts any of the others will be able to do so, either.)

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