#platonic yandere

[wisdomseulogy]

YOU WERE SO GOOD

MOB BOSS AU, Platonic! Batfam x gn!Reader (Mainly Dick)

TW: Death, gore (ish), angst, traumatic experiences

You were adopted by Bruce fairly young and didn't know that Bruce was actually the head of an organized crime syndicate (the mob) until Jason died and you learned the truth about your family.

You hated the mob/crime and the second you could you moved out of the manor and got your own apartment and job on the completely opposite side of Gotham

You never spoke to anyone in the family for years, having even gone so far as to get a new phone and phone number

But everything comes crashing down on you when you accidentally kill a man who was drunk and already injured after a bar fight. He runs into you and you gently push him out of the way but it makes him stumble backwards and hit his head just right on the pavement to die almost instantly

Freaking out and unsure of what to do, you decide to call the only number you still had memorized. Dicks. (Well you could probably try to remember Bruce's number but there was no way you were going to call him)

"Hello?" Dick says in a confused voice.

You shakily explain to him the situation and give him the cross street that you are standing at. Before you know it, there is an nondescript van pulling up with tinted windows.

Men in suits jump out and give you a once over before opening up the passenger side door. Dick steps out in his signature blue and black suit. Older than you remember but just as intimidating.

He walks around you looking for any injuries before motioning to the car. You open up your mouth to try and explain yourself but he shakes his head.

"Not here," he says in a rough voice while nodding his head toward a CCTV camera that was pointed precariously at you.

Most of the men that got out of the car stay there while you get into the backseat.

"Don't worry, they'll take care of it. I have Tim erasing the footage as we speak. The clean up crew will just make sure there is no trace of you on his body," he says so casually it makes you want to throw up. "I'm taking you to a safe house."

You open your mouth to argue, all you wanted to do right now was curl up in bed, but you decide not to fight it. You didn't know anything about the 'family business', once you found out the truth Bruce forced you to learn self defense and how to handle multiple different types of weapons. But you didn't want to learn all those things, you wanted to be a normal child from a normal family.

"I thought I could escape this life," you say softly. Dick's face twitches ever so slightly at your comment, but you can't see it. His face is focused on his phone as he is waiting for confirmation from Tim and the clean-up crew that everything has been handled.

"You're going to have to talk to Bruce eventually. It is only a matter of time before he knows. Nothing goes undetected under his watch," Dick says.

You shake your head, trying to keep both tears and your own thoughts at bay. The last thing you needed right now is to talk to your adoptive father.

After moving out of the manor, you changed your last name back to your birth parents last name, throwing away 'Wayne'. It was more than an act of rebellion, it was a way for you to signal to yourself that you were different from those monsters.

You're not sure how much time has passed, but you eventually arrive at the safe house. It is a decent sized cottage in a forested area. Out of all the safe houses, Dick decided to bring you to the one farthest from the city. If it wasn't for the fact that you knew Dick wasn't going to try and kill you or anything you would have been suspicious.

Instead of going straight to one of the rooms, you decide to hunker down on a slightly dusty couch in front of the fire place. Dick grabs some firewood and old newspaper and starts a fire.

Your brain wonders as you watch the flames dance around. The reality that you inadvertently killed someone clawing at the outer edges of your consciousness.

You don't even notice that Dick's phone keeps buzzing and barely even register when he steps outside periodically.

Some part of you wondered if this was all a very elaborate dream. In no real world would you ever willingly call your siblings. Thus, this must be some figment of a twisted imagination. A nightmare meant to instill lifelong psychological trauma instead of a quick momentary fear.

But the way the mans blood pooled under him and the scent of copper and liquor was all too real. And you didn't know if you would ever be able to remove either of those two from your memories.

You're sure everyone has heard about this by now. And in your twisted imagination fueled by self-hatred and yearning, you imagine them laughing at you. Joking about how you have finally become like them. That you finally killed someone and so now you can no longer say that you are not like them.

You imagine Damien's sneer, his insults were always the worst and you can't imagine he has changed all too much since you last saw him. Even though he was just a kid back then.

Their wicked smiles and sneers, teeth speckled with blood and flesh taunt your waking mind. Dancing behind your eyes like a macabre comedy. And even in these glances of imagination, you could not defend yourself. Defend yourself from your own torture. The torture you started.

You grabbed the whip when you pushed the guy out of the way, and you cracked the whip against your own back when you stood there silently watching him bleed out. Maybe you could have called an ambulance. Maybe you could have tried to help and maybe that could have saved him. But instead you just stood there in abject shock. The whip hits you again when you decide to call the mob instead of the police. And once again when you hear Dicks voice again. As if all those years that you made sure to distance yourself from that hellhole of a family were nothing and you were back living at the manor.

But no amount of physical pain could ever drown out the knowledge that you are more worried about being seen as a monster than you were about the fact that someone died. That was a fact that you pushed far into your subconscious, deep into the pits of hades. And you threw the only key that could unlock that knowledge into the river Styx and stood silently, making sure it sunk all the way to the bottom.

You don't remember going to sleep, or grabbing a blanket, but all of a sudden you are back in reality. The ocean-like sounds of the forest surrounding you like a pastoral hug. Birds were chirping. Flies were buzzing.

Even though your world ended, the world did not.

"Do you still drink coffee?" Dick asked from the kitchen.

Right, he was still here. You look down at the multicolor wool blanket depicting the migration of bison that Dick must have wrapped around you while you were sleeping.

"Yeah," you respond.

"Any preference?" He asks.

"No."

Not before long, Dick walks over with a mug. You grab it hesitantly and look down at the sand colored liquid.

"Put some oat milk and sugar in there," he said as he slowly sipped his own coffee.

Your chest tightened slightly. Of course they would know how you made your coffee every morning. At this point, it feels almost stupid to ask how he knew that without you telling him. Could it be a guess? Or more likely, did they never stop watching you.

How many cameras were installed in your apartment? Microphones? Of course you could never escape them. You were family. And when you have nothing and the world is a dark dangerous place filled with death at every corner, at least you still had family. Or that's how they thought. But you hated their twisted version of what it meant to be family.

You take a tentative sip and then look up at Dick expectantly. There was an unspoken connection. Both of you knowing what the other was going to say.

"How do you know that?"

"Do you really want to know?"

You think for a moment and take another sip. In all honesty, you didn't want to know. You enjoyed the illusion of privacy and the illusion of freedom. And anything you did to try and hold on tighter to that illusion (finding cameras, figuring out which people in your life they pay for information about you, etc.) was only going to make them work harder. Because you were family. Family.

"Not really," you conceded.

His lips twitched upward slightly, like he had won some grand victory. You started questioning everything. Had they planted that guy there so you would call them? No...they wouldn't do that. They just have a depraved version of care, and Bruce was never one to let someone die without a reason.

"We're having a family dinner tonight, maybe you could stop by. For old times sake, you know?" He asks casually, leaning against the mantle of the fireplace. The fire had long died some time in the night.

You almost chuckled at his question. "With those monsters? Hell no. I would rather die." A bit harsh, even you knew that, but its how you truly felt.

They were monsters and you were...well not a monster. Whatever the opposite of evil incarnate was. That was what you were. A bright and glowing peal in a dark sea. A singular white dove in a wildfire holding onto the last unharmed olive branch. That was what you were.

They were the fire. They were the darkness. They were evil and they were death. They were the monsters under your bed and you were praying helplessly for them to go away. You were on top of the bed and they were below it.

"Monsters...right. Monsters. Evil scary...monsters. How is your life by the way? Got yourself a nice apartment." You don't notice the tightness in his jaw, the coldness in his eyes.

"It's good. I work 9-5. Administration stuff mostly. Lots of email. But it pays well. I have my nice little studio apartment in the good part of Gotham. I have a cat named Titus. That's pretty much it," you respond casually. The coffee tasted just like you always made it. Dick must have gotten the same blend too.

He waits a moment. Wondering if you were going to ask him how he's been, but he knew that such a wish was not grounded in reality.

"Why did you stay in Gotham? The apartment, the job, the cat, it all makes sense. But you could have all those things in any city. Why did you stay here?" Maybe a part of him hoped that the happy kid that he always remembered that would sneak out with him to look up at the stars and listen to music was still there.

They had wanted to protect you. Thought that maybe by never explaining what the family business actually was, you'd be happier. And maybe if Jason didn't die and the truth came out in a much smoother and more regulated way then you would have understood them better. But Dick lost two siblings that day, you and Jason. And Bruce lost two children.

Nothing was the same after that. Though, how could they expect everything to be the way it once was. Holding onto those poisonous nostalgic memories brought him a slight hope that maybe things could eventually go back to the way they once were. Before you shut all of them out.

His question startled you. You never thought about it before. You could have moved to Bludhaven, Metropolis, so many different places. But you never left Gotham. You found the 'safest' part of the city and moved there. Found the safest job and worked there. But you were always only a few bus rides away from Crime Alley.

There weren't that many sirens in your part of the city. Not that many people screaming in the middle of the night. Not that much crime. Your apartment building even had a security guard that would walk you to the bus station if you asked.

When your neighbors learned that you grew up in Gotham, they told you how happy they are it is finally getting better. That finally all that evil crime was going to be stopped and all Gotham needed to drive out all the criminals was more coffee shops and Pilates studios. An old warehouse was recently demolished to build an expensive high-rise building.

But you knew the unsettling truth. There weren't less homeless people, they were just being put onto inter-city busses with a one-way ticket out of the city. There wasn't less crime, the crime was just invisible. Because this was still Gotham.

A part of you wondered how you could ever leave the city that raise you. Gotham was just as much of a part of your family as your dead parents were. And to leave that behind, the last proof you had that at least at one time you were loved, would mean to leave yourself behind.

And you knew who truly controlled Gotham. The Wayne family had the power, trash, gas and water company under their control. Let alone also having control of a multi-billion dollar company. Some of the police force was even inside the Wayne's pocket book.

"The rent was cheap," you respond. You stared at each other in a long awkward silence. "How have you been?" You finally ask.

He raises his eyebrows and looks off to the side. "Oh you know, same old same old. Working nights. Got a few modeling gigs though. I also do a few podcasts here and there about the importance of philanthropy or you know how to be a playboy 101. Few events here and there. Nothing you can't read about in the news."

"Working nights?" You knew what that meant. But you had to ask anyways.

"Yeah. Working nights. As I am sure you are aware. Since you just saw me on the job. Though," he takes a long drawn out sip of coffee. "I thought you wouldn't want to hear about all of that monster talk."

"It's-" you begin but he cuts you off.

"No I get it. I really do. You are a good person. You have a good person job and you live in a good person apartment in a good person part of town with your good person cat living your good person life. I get it. I am a bad person living in my bad person penthouse going about my bad person life. That's why you left right? So you wouldn't have to associate with bad people?" His face is cold and indifferent. Something you've seen from Bruce many times, but never Dick.

"I-I don't want to be a bad person. I don't want to hurt people."

Dick sets his empty cup of coffee on the mantle of the fireplace and stares into the coals. "You act like you're so high and mighty when we both lived and grew up in the same manor. The only difference between you and me is that you got to have a childhood and I didn't. We both have the same adoptive father. We both laughed and played together."

"That's before I found out what the family business actually was!" You nearly shout. This was your worst nightmare. Having to relive all of those memories while trapped in some secluded safehouse.

"Your toys, your furniture, your clothes. It was all paid for by the family business. It was all bought with dirty money. You wouldn't have all of those things if it weren't for the business."

"I didn't want those things. I just wanted a normal family that loved me!"

Dick turns around instantly. His eyes like darts honing in on the bullseye. "We love you. Our love for you wasn't fake. You were the one that threw it all away. Granted, Bruce should not have instantly thrown you into the fire by making you train like some soldier, but he was doing that so that you could defend yourself. The most dangerous weapon in this line of business is knowledge all of a sudden you knew everything. Which meant there was no longer any plausible deniability in case something happened."

"After Jason died..." you pause as the memories flood back. "I told Bruce I was scared that the Joker would kill me too. And you want to know what Bruce did? He handed me a gun! He should have told me I would be fine."

"But there is no guarantee you would be fine. He wasn't going to lie to you. Would you have preferred we just lied to you the rest of your life so that you could live in this fake scenario where we are all one big happy normal family?"

You wanted to say yes but you hesitated.

"Why do you care so much about being good?" Dick asked. His chest heaving with unresolved anger and frustration. All those years of no-contact finally getting to him.

You fidget with the hem of the blanket. In all honesty, you didn't know why you cared so much. But isn't that what everyone should strive for? To be good? To be perceived as good? Right?

The moral of every superhero story is that the hero is good and the villain is bad. The villain is defeated because they are bad and the hero is praised for their goodness. The villain is never praised. They are buried with maybe a headstone if they are lucky.

The villain is forgotten while the city rejoices and parties in the streets as the hero once again saved everyone. Maybe that's what you wanted. To be praised by everyone. To be loved. By everyone. To never be forgotten. But in doing so...you forgot yourself. Forgot who you were and forgot where you came from.

---

Not beta read

[eveningcherryblossoms]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 9

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

Alfred Pennyworth, even before becoming the butler of a pack led by a billionaire that was also secretly the first vigilante of Gotham, had lived quite an unconventional life. Despite being an omega, he had not merely joined but thrived in the military and the secret service, serving Her Majesty. Later on he had been a Shakespearean actor–an omegan field among other branches of arts, to be sure, although not truly conventional or even respectable. Then somehow, he topped it all by becoming the butler of the Wayne pack, despite how butlers and housekeepers tended to be betas.

Yes, Alfred's life had been quite unconventional. The Wayne pack–both the one he initially joined and the one at present–were just as if not more unconventional. It might be ordinary now, but at the time Alfred began, it was highly unusual for two alphas to marry. For two high-class, wealthy alphas to marry for love, then remain in love and live harmoniously without a whisper of an affair, and have their child present as a prime alpha? It was highly unusual even without adding the fact that Alfred was the sole omega member of the pack, that the pack had no beta member at all.

And the latter fact continued to this day. Alfred could despair over that as he despaired over the failed marriage between your mother and Bruce.

Bruce had been better already then, thanks to spending the past two years with Dick. That had given Alfred reason to hope he would continue improving, to have a mate and perhaps a pup of his own blood–no offense to all Bruce's adopted children. And Bruce did take an interest in your mother! Dick–generally ready to present himself as an obstacle–actually supported Bruce in his choice of a mate as well! It was too good to be true... And, alas, the relationship Alfred expected indeed turned out to be false.

When your mother left with an unburdened smile and no backward glance, Alfred observed the shattered expression on Bruce's face changed to shuttered, and silently condemned your mother for bringing pain upon the pack.

When six years later news of her demise came accompanied by that of your existence? Alfred once more observed, and silently condemned you to an existence as an outsider to the pack.

All under the excuse, It is unseemly for a butler to be the first to welcome a new pack member. As if Alfred hadn't always done so with the pups Bruce brought to the manor while Bruce himself was preoccupied.

You were a good child, however, which was more the pity. Polite, respectful, considerate, sensible, everything that Alfred had more or less given up on his pack members exhibiting at all times. You never cried to him, and as the proverb went: The crying child gets the milk. You didn't cry, so with time Alfred no longer consciously withheld you the 'milk' you deserved; that was all relegated to the background alongside other less important matters.

Nevertheless, Alfred was scarcely unobservant. Indeed, he hadn't needed to cook, clean, or do the laundry for you for about the past three years at least, and after the first and only time Bruce's reputation as a good father got smeared due to being unavailable for you, your care at school had been entrusted to your late mother's lawyer. But Alfred's eyes and ears and brain still worked perfectly, and he knew some matters about you were becoming... suspicious.

There could be perfectly good reasons for them, Alfred knew. It had always been your habit to do everything alone, after all, and it was the custom for a recently presented alpha or omega to crave their own private space away from the pack. But.

But.

Alfred decided to keep quiet for some time still. If it turned out he was right about his suspicion, though...

Alfred acknowledged that he did leave you alone when you should have been properly cared for, as a form of punishment for your mother having broken Bruce's heart and dashed Alfred's hope for a more conventional pack life. Still, you were Bruce's first biological child, the only civilian one. The blood that ran through your veins was that of the Waynes, Alfred's pack.

If it turned out you were intending to leave the Waynes as your mother had done, he would not hesitate applying all he'd learnt from his highly unconventional life to retain you in the Wayne pack.

On this day that marked five months since your terrible sixteenth birthday, you were engaged in high-stake tag with Damian.

Or, to put it in another, simpler way–you were being chased by him.

It... wasn't supposed to be like that, yeah.

You were just innocently minding your business, keeping your head down as usual. It had been a fairly pleasant morning–with Bruce supposedly sleeping off a hangover, Dick still barely keeping his head above water (thanks to you uncovering more information and leaking them one by one), Jason's whereabout unknown as per the custom after his miraculous resurrection, and Tim easily waved off with an excuse of prior engagement in Chinatown.

You had barely turned the corner, feeling vicious joy knowing he was drooping like a dog denied a walk like you used to whenever the Waynes went away without remembering you, before you gave up on them. Then like instant divine karma came Damian, practically ambushing and exacting you to drive him also to Chinatown.

"...not that I don't want to–" You really, really didn't, "–why aren't you asking Mr Pennyworth?"

Damian clicked his tongue. "Pennyworth is busy tending to Father. Are you going to drive me or not?"

"Sorry, Damian," you told him with the shameful, apologetic tone you'd long since perfected. "I can drive, yes, but I haven't gotten a license yet. I'll be taking the bus."

The way Damian looked at you, you might as well have said you would be taking the garbage truck. It would have been funny if it hadn't been vexing, knowing that someone who was technically your biological brother never felt unwelcomed to help himself to the manor's facilities. The fake slightly amused smile remained on your face from sheer effort alone.

Shockingly, despite his apparent disgust at the prospect, Damian insisted on going with you on the bus. He was displeased with the walk to the bus stop, the waiting time, the cleanliness (lack of it, really), the weather, the bus condition, the number of people inside, the smell, and worst of all he had no hesitation to make said displeasure known. You found it incredibly tempting to lose Damian on the way.

Somehow, you managed to stay strong. Nobody even spat your way or anything despite Damian's vitriol–though it very likely had something to do with his dark glares and the daggers he none too subtly carried on his person.

Once the two of you got off the bus, you turned towards Damian. "I'll see you later, I have to go–"

"Lies." Damian interrupted you mercilessly. "You merely told Drake that as you were too much of a milksop to tell him he was being a nuisance. You dared attempt the same thing to me?"

See, at this point, you knew that the sensible and safe decision was to assure Damian otherwise and obligingly keep him company–because for reasons unclear to you that seemed to be what he wanted at the moment. You were hiding being a beta. Consequently you needed to keep your head down until you could be free. Consequently you should make the sensible and safe decision.

Be sensible. Play it safe. Act like the good beta you are.

That kind of thought would be your undoing. Why? Because when it crossed your mind, by the time you realized it, you were already running.

While Damian, the little alpha, was chasing.

You could've hurled from the combined thrill and anxiety.

Subconsciously you tried convincing yourself: It would be good practice in case you'd have to run from a pursuing alpha. If you could stop yourself from running as fast and moving as nimbly as you actually could, it would misinform Damian of your real physical stats. Etcetera etcetera.

The truth remained that you were being really, really reckless right now.

Deliberately, though you could easily swing over the two-meter-high wall, you pretended to heft yourself with some difficulty before jumping off into the alleyway behind the wall. You smoothly landed, but kicked over the lid of a trash can you could have fallen on anyway, before taking off to the right. A not-so-distant growl prompted you to step into a bustling dim sum restaurant and thrust a handful of bills into the owner's hand with a murmured instruction in Cantonese. By the time Damian skidded in front of the eatery, his phone vibrated with a message you sent him: a selfie of yourself throwing a peace sign before boarding a bus, simply captioned lol bye.

Damian's almost literal howl of rage before he stomped away was like music to your ears. You shut your eyes and sighed in contentment, basking under the sunlight... on the rooftop of the eatery.

Yeah, back then you asked the owner to let you go up the rooftop. You took the selfie a few days ago just in case you needed it to throw off your pursuers. Even your engagement in Chinatown today wasn't entirely a lie, whatever Damian said. You were planning to take more selfies here and in surrounding neighborhoods.

An audible snort, followed by giggles that failed to be muffled, snapped you back to attention. It was, to quote Damian's most frequent criticism, sloppy of you. You leaped to your feet, scanning your surroundings, before slowly looking up.

Your eyes widened spotting the source of said giggles perched on a higher roof.

"Your Grace?"

A/N: The first part of this chapter was fueled by two (2) bad Alfred Pennyworth posts I accidentally saw yesterday, thank you whoever it was for inspiring me 🙏 As to the next part, well, nobody commented on beta reader feeling tempted to do smth risky sooo 😗

Forgot to tell you guys in the previous part (not that it's important lol) but my PACKAGE CAME BACK YEAH!!! 💃🕺 Turns out it was missent, my neighbor told me I should've used a different address bc the one I put down could be easily mistaken for another area under the same name 😔

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

[pineconepie]

CHARACTERS: Rune, you/reader

WARNINGS/TAGS: Parental yandere, infantilization gender neutral reader, forced age regression(?), language barriers, violence, death/murder (not major characters), kidnapping, SCP-inspired, implied dehumanization, Rune uses any pronouns

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, just did some quick editing haha. Hope you enjoy! <3

You aren't a doctor, nor a psychiatrist, psychologist, or any sort of therapist. Your profession was actually to just tidy up the place and keep everything clean. Basically a janitor, but a little more specialized. You're not sure how you wound up getting the job, being completely inexperienced in this line of work.

But hey. It's money.

Working around such strange anomalies didn't scare you. You were only allowed to clean in the areas of those not deemed a threat, which is what made it not so bad. Most are kept in their own separate rooms where you wouldn't have to interact with them or look at them.

In the end, as long as you don't let curiosity get the best of you, it's just like cleaning any other facility.

Recently, you had been promoted to being allowed access to clean level three rooms, meaning a higher risk at being harmed.

But once again... it's money.

As you're doing your job, you hear a soft voice, but not quite human.

"Baby...?"

You turn your head. 9137, their file reads next to his door. They have long dark purple hair, long and pointy ears, and pink eyes that almost seem to glow. Their containment chamber is dark, so perhaps its just the lighting? Or maybe they just naturally do that.

The only clearly inhuman parts about them is their long thin black tail and claws, a gradient of black on their arms leading to their hands.

They wave softly, motioning for you to come closer.

"...me?" you say softly. Your coworkers had warned you about the friendlier SCP's. Their behavior may be innocent on the outside, but they know how to manipulate in order to get out. You know better, though. Surely you wouldn't fall victim to that. Its not like they can really do much behind this large bulletproof glass.

The humanoid creature seems content with this, sitting cross legged. They put their clawed hand against the glass. "You. My baby."

You squint at them in confusion, taking a moment to read the paper more thoroughly. As expected, it doesn't mention anything like this in their file.

The only information it gives is:

NUMBER: #9137

NAME: RUNE

HEIGHT: 6'10

WEIGHT: 236 LBS

AGE: (UNKNOWN)

CONTAINMENT CLASS: Euclid

SPECIAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURES:

Subject 9137 must remain within their containment area at all times unless given permission from Dr. Kent. All rooms are to be kept dark or dimly lit, as Subject 9137 has been noted to become aggressive in brightly lit areas. No food or water is required for Subject 9137, as they seemingly have no need for any sort of nutrition.

Physical contact is not advised, but allowed if necessary.

All interactions must be recorded and filed.

ANOMALOUS PROPERTIES:

Subject 9137 is capable of some human speech, but does not understand it fluently.

Subject 9137 is able to emit a cognitohazard that decreases one's brain activity, rendering the person in a state similar to infancy. It is unknown how this happens, but it is theorized that 9137 is able to choose who it affects. It seems to only affect those in the same room as them.

There were some logs on interviews, but you didn't really have much time to read them before hearing the sound of what you could describe as purring. They are almost comparable to a cat with the wide-eyed look of admiration they're giving you.

You awkwardly smile. "I'm not your baby, I'm sorry..."

Their purring stops, looking saddened by your statement. But they shake their head, continuing to stare at you through the glass. "Name?"

Well, the file didn't say anything bad about telling them your name. "(Y/n)," you say. "You're Rune?"

"Yes," they smile, the tips of their teeth poking through their lips. They remind you of a shark. "You call me Mama or Papa. Because you are baby. Mine."

The way they said 'mine' sounds scarily possessive. You figure it'd be best to stay on their good side. As long as the lights aren't too bright and there's a wall between the two of you, you don't think they could try anything.

So you nod along. "Okay... Papa?"

They smile and clap their hands, making a cooing noise. They repeat your name under their breath as if they're committing it to memory. "(Y/n)... (Y/n)..." they make an attempt to pronounce your name as you did.

"Um... yeah, that's my name," you chuckle. "Well, I should get back to work. It was nice talking to you."

"No!" Rune slams their palm on the door. They begin speaking frantically in a language you do not know. The tone of their voice doesn't come off as malicious, however. If anything they just sound upset at the thought of you leaving. "Need baby! Please!"

"I can't," you sigh. "Look, um, I'll be back to clean tomorrow, we can see each other then. How's that sound?"

They seem conflicted, but ultimately nod. "Okay..."

...

True to your word, you come back the next day with the usual supplies.

"Baaaaby!" Rune smiles, hugging the closest thing near them; the glass.

"How are you?" you smile.

"Happy now. My baby here. Miss you very much."

They don't move an inch as you begin to sweep, simply staring at you contentedly with that same toothy grin on their face. Eventually they lay down on their stomach and rest their elbows on the floor, kicking their legs lazily while watching you.

It's almost cute. They feel more like a mother big cat with their cub than anything else.

When you've finally finished dusting everything off and spraying their table down, you take a break to sit on the floor opposite to them, as if you could share the space. They mimic you and sit criss-cross, smiling softly.

They point to the door, which requires a keycard from any level four staff, which you are not. "Open?"

"I'm not allowed," you admit sadly.

"Won't let you see Papa?" Their smile disappears again. "Bad white coats keep you from Papa...?"

You assume they're referring to the staff members dressed in white labcoats. You know why exactly the protocols are in place, so you can't bring yourself to agree, especially when you still have no idea how powerful they really are.

So you shrug. "Those are the rules. We can still talk, though. We just have to do it right here."

"Want to hold my baby," Rune sniffles. "You good. No one else good but you."

"Why's that?" you ask curiously. Sure, it's flattering. But you barely even know this person (can you even consider them a person?). It's nice having someone care for you so much, but its also quite sudden and suspicious. You know they're just an anomaly like everyone else here. And anomalies lie. They manipulate.

You cannot trust them, even if something in their expression breaks your heart a little bit.

"Been sad long time," they explain. "So so so sad until saw you." Their voice cracks. "White coats think me evil. Try hurting me. Poke me. Make me angry. All I wanted was family. Child I can love. Be parent to. White coats hurt you too. Right?" Rune points to the symbol of the foundation on your coat. They snarl angrily at it. "Make you wear. Don't let you leave. Trap you here."

You shake your head. "No... that's not true..."

"Mm-mm," Rune shakes their head. "Is."

They point to your eyes. You have heavy bags under them after being overworked. You look and feel drained. Not that they're wrong. The pay may be decent, but the environment isn't exactly... pleasant.

"It's fine though," you chuckle lightly. "I like working here. Besides, it's better than not having a job. There aren't many places hiring."

Rune crawls a bit closer, pressing their forehead against the glass. "I promise take care of you," they hum. "Soon you see Papa never hurt you."

This is becoming unsettling. While you doubt anyone as clingy and sweet as Rune could have bad intentions, there must be some sort of ulterior motive, right? They have to want something from you. Maybe its all a scheme to let them roam free and escape.

Not that you could blame them. Who would willingly live locked up in these conditions?

Still, you don't know anything about Rune outside of their file.

"What did you do when you weren't in here?" you ask. Hopefully you haven't upset them by rejecting their offer yet. But maybe this information could prove useful later on.

"Wander," Rune smiles. "Explore forest, rivers, cities. Walk the lands. Wandered far, never got lost. Know paths always. Then got put here."

"When did that happen?"

"Not sure," Rune murmurs. "Can't tell time. Long ago."

"I'm sorry," you say softly. This is a lot to take in, but you can't help but feel empathetic. You'd probably be going insane if you were in their shoes, away from a world you once knew for what could easily be decades, being studied every waking moment by people who may or may not even view you as a sentient lifeform.

Rune rubs the side of their face against the door, probably pretending its you. "I get revenge one day. Then (Y/n) be safe with Papa."

There's a chilling aura behind their words that you try to ignore.

...

A few more days pass by like this. Despite your skepticism towards their words, you find yourself falling into routine with the way you two behave. Rune acts almost like an actual parent in a way, even if its clear they're a bit confused on how humans work.

You find Rune waiting for you, which you're starting to become convinced they always do that whenever you leave. Like a dog waiting for its owner.

"Were you waiting for me?" you ask, smiling slightly.

"Of course," Rune replies, as if the idea of not doing so is unthinkable. "You come. So Papa wait."

"You don't need to do that all the time..." you sigh. "You can... go do whatever it is you usually do."

Rune tilts their head. "Like sleep?"

"Is there nothing else you can do?" you ask, a bit sad for them. "Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? At all?" Rune shakes their head. "I'm sorry... I wish there was something I could do."

They coo, once again putting their large hand against the glass. "You talk with me. Make happy. Just wish you be in here with me. Want to hold my baby."

After you're done having your typical conversation with them, you leave with your supplies, only to see several of your higher-ups looking at you. A blonde-haired man gives a signal towards you, telling you to follow him in the other room. You oblige, knowing this was bound to happen eventually. He probably has seen the camera footage of you talking to them.

Great, this is the moment you get fired. You're sure of it.

When you're in your boss' office, you sit down. Your boss, Mr. Short, holds a hand up before you can begin.

"I want to offer you a promotion," he says.

"...pardon me?" you ask in shock. "Sir, I-I mean—"

"I've been going through camera footage and observing you speak with Subject 9137," he explains. "Usually staff interaction isn't allowed, but it seems that they really seem to like you." He slides you a folder. "We'd like you to assist us with our studies, getting close to them so we can collect information."

You blink dumboundedly, staring at the folder without taking it. "Why can't someone else more qualified do it? I'm just... a janitor."

"Well, to be honest with you," Mr. Short says. "All attempts to get personal information out of them have failed. Until now, that is. They seem very comfortable with you."

"But why do you want me to do this? Is it really that important?" you ask skeptically. Something feels off, but you can't place your finger on it.

"We simply want to know a bit more about them, is that so wrong?" Mr. Short asks. He opens the folder. "We'll take every single precaution necessary to make sure you aren't harmed. Even if we don't have much information about 9137's behavior, we will make sure to prepare ourselves for anything."

You fidget nervously, trying to read the documents.

Unfortunately, its complete jargon you don't understand.

"You'd be allowed in the same room as them," your boss continues. "We won't allow you in there for longer than an hour a day, due to the side effects others have gotten being in the same room as them."

Oh right, their special abilities or whatever. That whole brain activity thing.

"And... what do you need me to do?" you ask.

Mr. Short smiles. "Just act the way you always do. Get them to open up to you and reveal new information. There's some specific questions written down here, but you don't need to rush it. Act natural."

"How am I supposed to document it? Would you guys just use cameras?"

"We'd give you a recorder to keep inside your pockets and maybe plant a wire on you somewhere," Mr. Short says nonchalantly. "There's some things in the folder to sign if you wish to accept."

The thought of this is nauseating.

"So what do you say?"

Your eyes flicker back down to the paperwork, staring at it anxiously.

"I guess... okay," you nod. "Yeah."

...

The door hisses open with a soft sound, your keycard sliding back into your pocket.

And now comes the moment where you have to pray Rune isn't secretly plotting to kill you.

When you step in, it locks immediately behind you. You take a deep breath, a bit panicked from the overwhelming feeling of anxiety building inside you.

It takes Rune a minute to realize you've entered, their expression changing from surprise to joy when they register that it really is happening. It makes the guilt build up even worse inside you, but you force yourself to remember that Rune is technically your job now. In all fairness, its not like they would know you're gathering information about them, so what's the harm in asking?

Regardless, your morals feel compromised at best.

You figure there must be something your boss nor the doctors are telling you, because it doesn't make sense that they'd be so desperate as to make you do the grunt work rather than trained professionals.

But for now, you try your best to shove those doubts aside.

Rune wastes no time pulling you in for a hug, picking you up effortlessly in their arms as they purr loudly.

"My baby," Rune grins, holding you closely and squeezing tightly.

You pat their back and wiggle around in their grasp as a signal to put you down.

Rune does so reluctantly, continuing to hover over you like an overbearing parent. They smile with that toothy grin.

They make a hand motion, rushing out a quick, "Stay!" and scramble to grab several pillows, stacking them in the corner of the dimly lit containment chamber.

"Huh? What's this?" you ask, walking over to them.

"Nest!" they announce proudly, fluffing one more pillow.

You awkwardly sit on one of the pillows, smiling at the clear effort Rune has made to ensure you're comfortable.

"You didn't have to make a spot for me..."

"Papa make you comfortable," Rune replies as if it is obvious. "Do you like?"

"I do," you nod. You suppose there wouldn't be any harm in indulging Rune in their delusions, especially since its part of your task now to do so anyway. Its... a little fun. Not that you'd admit it. But hey, who hasn't wanted to be pampered at least once in their life?

Rune grabs you again, tugging you gently onto their lap with your back pressed against their chest. It makes you feel small. Fragile. You can hear Rune humming contentedly as they play with your hair.

"No more alone," they sigh happily, nuzzling the side of your head like a cat.

"Oh, um," you nervously glance at the door. "I can only stay for so long..."

They stop their gentle movements, wrapping both their arms tightly around your midsection. Rune squeezes you against them, hunching forward as if curling around you.

They don't reply. Its hard to tell whether or not they even heard you. For all you know, they may have known what you said and simply chose to ignore you.

Maybe its best not to test them.

"Can I ask you some questions?" you ask. At Rune stiffening, you stutter, "I just want to know more about my, um, papa. You can ask me questions, too."

Rune nods. "...yes," they reply. They lay their chin on top of your head. "What you want know?"

You think of a good question to start that isn't too sudden. Something casual that might seem natural. "How old are you?" You remember the file mentioning how Rune's age is unknown. "I know you said you can't tell time, but do you remember what it was like when you were born, maybe?"

They hum in thought. "My kind..." they struggle to find words. "My kind live very long."

"There's more of you?"

"Don't know," Rune murmurs. "Haven't found." They hug you closer. "Don't care. Baby only matter now."

You think about your next question. "Why do you see me as your baby?"

They tilt their head. "Instincts say you baby. Babies need love and protect. Like you."

That certainly clears things up.

"Do you see anyone else as a baby?"

Rune quickly shakes their head. "No. Others are mean. Scary."

You nod. "Do you have any questions for me now?"

That makes Rune perk up. They ask about your hobbies, favorite food, color, interests, all sorts of things to get to know you. Even though you're sure they have no idea what half of the things you said are, they still listen intently, trying to absorb as much information about you as possible. They seem overjoyed to know more about you.

Its genuinely pretty sweet.

As you answer the last question they had for you, you realize your time is almost up. You panic slightly, trying to pull away. Rune makes a confused cry, wondering why you suddenly jerked away.

"I have to go soon," you say sadly. "It's almost time for me to leave."

"No," Rune says lowly. "No, no no no..." They clutch onto you harder, keeping you still even as you try wiggling out of their grip.

"I can come back tomorrow," you remind them.

"Hurts when you leave!" Rune exclaims, tail wagging madly with their distress. "Hurts me here! Here!" They tap their heart repeatedly.

"They won't let me stay past visiting hours," you say apologetically. "They could get really angry with me. I'm sorry."

Rune purses their lips. "They keep you from me..." Rune mutters bitterly under their breath. You don't like the malice behind their voice. They pick you up, cradling you like one might do a swaddled infant. "Stay."

"You know I can't," you say sternly. "I'll come back tomorrow, I promise. Then we can talk some more."

It takes them a moment, but Rune finally sets you down on the floor, giving you one last bone-crushing hug before letting you stand up again.

"Papa promise keep baby safe one day," Rune whispers in your ear.

One day soon.

...

The next few days pass by fairly quickly. You wake up, arrive at work, and visit Rune, who greets you excitedly every single time, waiting for you to arrive just beyond the door.

You two spend most of the time cuddling while you converse with them.

One day, however, you decide to visit them, even though you've already visited them once that day for over an hour. But one or two more can't hurt that badly, right?

As usual, you use your card key, sliding it in smoothly before you hear it click and unlock. The door hisses open, and you enter their containment chamber. Rune perks up, smiling happily to see you again so soon.

"Hello, baby! Visit again?" Rune practically hovers over you, as they typically do if not holding you. "Miss Papa?"

"Yeah," you chuckle.

"Want nest?"

You nod, making your way to the pile of pillows with Rune. As soon as you're sitting down, Rune pulls you into their lap yet again, circling their long legs around you and your waist. You aren't even wearing the hearing device, but then again, you aren't here to get more information, anyway. This is just purely to spend time with Rune.

For whatever reason, being with them comforts you in a strange way.

Even though they've said some slightly worrying things, you figure they're safe enough. Their files may be limited, but your higher-ups don't seem worried about Rune hurting anyone.

They could have easily hurt you, yet you've been kept safe and sound.

You even notice them getting a little better at speaking your language. Sure, it still has a lot of grammar issues, and sometimes they use incorrect words completely, but its still improvement.

"Tired?" they ask, cocking their head to the side to observe your face. You jump slightly when you feel them trace underneath your eyes with their claws. "Dark spots here."

"Oh," you mumble. "Yeah, just a little sleep-deprived. That's all."

Rune looks concerned by this, kissing your forehead tenderly. "Poor baby. Sleep in nest."

"It's against the rules—"

"Sleep," Rune repeats firmly. They pick you up and lie sideways on the cushions. Your body is pulled until your back is against their chest. Almost instinctively, Rune wraps their limbs around you, caging you in protectively. "(Y/n) rest. Papa sing."

At first you want to argue that this is definitely a safety hazard, and that if anyone catches you sleeping here you could lose your job. But Rune starts rubbing soothing circles across your back while humming a tune from their own language, and you find yourself dozing off slowly.

...

When you wake up, Rune is still humming quietly.

You feel a brief sesne of dread; they told you not to spend longer than the time they gave you each day, right? And you're sure spending the night certainly crossed that threshold.

Especially when your mind feels as numb as the file had warned.

You attempt to pull yourself up, only for Rune to tug you back down, keeping you laying on the pillows with them. Rune seems to realize you've woken up, smiling contently when your eyes open blearily.

They greet you lovingly. "Sleep well?"

On top of your mind feeling numb, you realize its also hard to talk. Now you're sure your superiors were correct about you needing to stay away for too long, otherwise it could render you useless. Maybe if you hurry back right now, it could reverse the effects.

You wriggle slightly in their hold, attempting to communicate that you'd like to stand up.

Rune stares at you curiously for a moment, until your intentions dawn on them. They pull back a few inches, narrowing their eyes coldly. "Where going?" their tone is scarily sharp, contrasting greatly with the overly affectionate purring from before.

"Need to get back to work," you grit out. You're impressed you managed to say even one word to them.

They look conflicted, gazing between you and the door. Then, they smile. It isn't the sweet smiles you're used to, this one looks far more unnerving. It makes your skin crawl.

Rune picks you up with ease. Before you can begin questioning what they're doing, they grab your keycard from your pocket and slide it through the card reader by the door.

It still requires a code. You feel only a brief relief, until you see Rune enter it: 78500.

They must've memorized it after watching you put in the pin, which you admittedly never paid attention to whether Rune had been watching you or not. You had assumed they weren't smart enough to memorize codes.

Now, they walk you both outside, and into the halls.

The lights are blinding compared to what you've grown used to in Rune's containment room. They hiss at them, holding you tighter while keeping a swift pace despite not knowing where they're headed. They hide your head in the crook of their shoulder, as if they think you hate the lights just as much.

Alarms go off quickly as several researchers and doctors scramble to find the problem, realizing what has happened.

Just when a group of guards tries to intervene, Rune just lifts their hand and twists it gracefully, causing several of them to drop limply in the middle of the floor.

Noticing you had turned your head to stare in horror, Rune coos and hides your face back to their chest, cradling the back of your head.

"Don't look, (Y/n)," they murmur sympathetically.

You hear several screams and loud banging noises, as if bodies are being thrown across walls. Rune continues walking at the same pace.

Never have you once predicted they were this strong. Sure, they're an euclid class anomaly, but based on your encounters with them, they never appeared threatening.

Part of you wonders if even the doctors and other workers here know that they were capable of this amount of carnage.

You begin crying, though you doubt Rune hears it over the screaming people and blaring alarms surrounding them.

They must've been biding their time this entire duration just for this exact moment. And you played right into their plans perfectly.

There's someone's voice in the intercom telling all staff to evacuate immediately.

Rune mutters something in that language you don't understand. You start to understand when you feel yourself getting increasingly tired again, unable to fight as Rune uses their ability.

You wonder if the lights make them stronger. Normally the foundation doesn't care about their subjects' comfort unless it poses as a risk. But it would explain how they were able to keep such an overwhelmingly powerful creature in a room for this long; still, you doubt even they knew the extent of their abilities.

They carry you out of the facility, stopping only momentarily to breathe in fresh air. Or maybe they're basking in victory, you aren't really sure. Neither do you care anymore.

"Why...?" you sob. It's the only word you can manage.

They shush you, cradling your head against them even still. You feel yourself falling asleep, eyelids drooping lazily despite your struggles.

Rune rocks you gently. "We go home."

You don't know where that even is, and you doubt they do either.

They look scary right now; their eyes glowing brighter than ever, sharp teeth glinting from the sunlight. Long black claws that could tear apart anyone who dared cross them. Yet they treat you with such delicacy, even as specks of blood lie on their face.

All you can do is drift back to sleep, overcome by their powers.

[bluepandastarfish]

I can't tell if they're mad about her paying memories of ivy more attention then them- or just mad that she ran off...

„Just One Hour.“

(Yandere Batfam)

A/N: this was inspired by a ask from @oatyoooo

Hope you like it!! And yeah somehow I love writing drabbles so much. But I’m working on the next chapters!! and maybe a new series?🧐

Anyways have fun reading! Some facts that I mentioned here (like Y/N being able to speak multiple languages) I will explain further in the main series :)

She could hardly breath anymore.

Not from sickness — but from their version of love. If that’s what it even was.

To Y/N, it didn’t feel like love. It felt like a gilded cage. Velvet-wrapped chains. She could smile, speak, move — but only within the lines they traced for her. Everything she did was monitored, shadowed, echoed back to her in suffocating waves of “care.” Cameras in her room. Panic buttons in her school bag. A bracelet tracker disguised as a charm. And her brothers — rotating guards who never let her walk alone.

Even her breath felt observed.

Today it was Damian.

As always, he walked her to her first class, stood at the door until she stepped inside, and then lingered for a moment longer — making sure she didn’t try anything stupid. He’d taken to doing that since she ran. He didn’t say it aloud, but she could tell by the way his hand always rested near the hilt of his katana — even inside the school.

Once she was seated, he turned and left for his own class.

But today…

Today was different.

One of her teachers was sick. No substitute. Meaning Y/N had a free period.

Usually, this would mean Damian would expect her to sit with him in one of his more advanced courses — or at the very least read quietly in the library under a dozen invisible eyes.

But this time…

He didn’t know.

Nobody knew.

It was sudden. No one informed him. And for once, no one stood breathing down her neck.

She sat with the news in silence. Her books unopened. Her eyes fixed on the grey clouded sky.

And then — like the smallest rebellion cracking through stone — she stood.

She told her friends she had to go see the nurse. Something small. Nothing to worry about. She gave them the smile she always gave. That perfect, sweet, believable curve that no one ever doubted.

And she left.

She didn’t even realize she’d left her phone in the classroom — still zipped in the front pouch of her bag. It buzzed softly against her book, unnoticed. Unimportant.

Her feet carried her out the gate.

Out of the school.

Out into the city.

She didn’t plan on going far — she just wanted air. Just one hour. She wanted to exist without their eyes, their rules, their guilt. She just wanted to walk where she wanted. Without a shadow behind her.

And somehow, her body had remembered the way.

The botanical gardens.

The ones she had loved as a child. The ones she stopped visiting because she feared it would remind her family who her mother was. Because when you’re the daughter of Poison Ivy, touching soil always felt like a loaded question.

But now?

Now it felt like a sanctuary.

The air was humid and green, heavy with flowers. The plants — bright, blooming — called to her. And they listened, too. She stepped through the overgrown paths with soft fingers brushing petals, and something in the stems curled toward her as she passed. She didn’t mean to make them — but they did.

She sat in the heart of the conservatory, where no one ever looked. Her shoes off. Her skirt brushed with pollen. Her hands sticky with petals. And for the first time in months, Y/N breathed.

She didn’t notice time slipping past.

An hour became two. Two became nearly three.

She didn’t see the text notifications piling up on her school phone. Because it was still zipped in her bag… back at school.

⸻

Meanwhile, back at Gotham Academy…

Damian’s eyes flicked toward the clock.

She should’ve passed his hallway ten minutes ago.

He stood. Books forgotten. The soft murmur of his classmates drowned beneath the buzz in his skull. Something was wrong. He felt it. Like blood freezing under skin.

His steps were sharp and fast as he returned to the wing where Y/N’s cancelled class had been scheduled. The halls were half-empty — most students having dispersed after the unexpected free period.

Damian didn’t knock. He shoved the door open.

A few students still loitered inside, talking, giggling.

No teacher.

His eyes scanned the room.

She wasn’t there.

She wasn’t there.

His vision narrowed. His boots were already stomping toward a group of familiar girls — her so-called “friends.” He didn’t bother with introductions.

“Where is she?” His voice was low. Sharp.

The girls blinked. One flinched.

“W-We don’t know,” one whispered. “She said she had to go… somewhere. She said it was just for a little bit.”

Damian’s fists clenched.

And in his mind — all hell broke loose.

Damian’s fingers were white around his phone as he pressed it to his ear.

He was already pacing the empty hallway when the call connected.

“She’s gone.”

Tim blinked.

“Gone?” he repeated slowly, eyes flicking to Dick and Jason, who were sitting on the couch across from him. “What do you mean gone?”

“I mean she wasn’t in her class. She lied. She left school. Her friends said she went off on her own.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Jason’s voice cut in from behind the phone — loud and hot like gunfire. “What the hell do you mean she left? You were with her, demon spawn!”

“I brought her to class,” Damian growled, his voice low and strained, “She had a free period. It was last-minute. I didn’t know. She slipped through.”

Dick was already standing. “I’ll run a trace.”

“No need,” he said grimly. “After her last stunt, we all agreed she couldn’t be trusted. I made sure of it.”

Jason sat up straighter. “What did you do?”

Tim’s voice was cold and steady. “She has a chip. Internal. In her shoulder.”

Jason’s mouth twitched, jaw tight. Even Dick, whose fingers were curled into fists against his knees, didn’t speak for a moment.

None of them liked that it had come to this — drugging her during sleep, inserting a tracker without consent. But after what she did the first time — after the month she’d spent hidden from them, alone in some godforsaken part of Gotham, starving, shaking, terrified — they couldn’t risk it again.

Love meant protecting her from herself.

Even if she hated them for it.

“Where is she now?” Dick finally asked, voice hard. The old warmth was gone. His blue eyes burned sharp, hot with something possessive, something near-broken.

Tim glanced down at the glowing signal on the map. “Downtown Gotham. Botanical garden.”

Jason let out a string of curses. “Of course she went there. Of course.” He threw on his jacket, already striding toward the bikes. “Let’s go.”

Damian’s voice snapped out over the comm. “Not without me. No one touches her until I’m there.”

They didn’t argue.

_____

Y/N sat cross-legged in a small patch of dappled sunlight, hidden beneath the swaying arms of a white wisteria tree. The petals swayed gently around her face. Her fingers stroked a curling vine at her side, and the stem shivered — as if nuzzling back.

The garden had changed since she was little.

Or maybe she had.

The plants didn’t shrink from her anymore. They watched her. Responded. Whispered back, in their own way. They curled toward her fingers, bent toward her breath. One vine in particular coiled upward slowly, swaying toward her cheek as if trying to tuck behind her ear.

“You guys remember me, huh?” she whispered, voice quiet and cracked with soft laughter. “I used to be scared someone would see. That if I talk with you, they’d think I was just like her.”

She didn’t say the name.

She didn’t need to.

But here, the ghosts of Ivy were kind. Not cruel.

She leaned back against the bench and let her eyes flutter shut, letting the plants hum around her in their secret way. Her stomach growled after a while, a soft pathetic sound.

She sighed, rubbing at her eyes. “Right. Food.”

That’s when she realized—

Her backpack was gone.

It hit her all at once. Her bag. Her phone. Her watch. Her class schedule. Everything was still at school.

Her blood ran cold.

Her brothers were obsessive. All of them. She’d survived under their radar for barely more than a month when she first ran. And that was before the craziness, the implants, before the curfews, before they reminded her what they were willing to do when she disobeyed.

Panic shot through her lungs like cold water.

“I need to get back,” she whispered aloud, stumbling upright. “I need to go. I need to go now—”

She sprinted out of the wisteria grove, heart pounding. Her flats slapped the pavement as she pushed through the winding hedges and warm glass walls. If she could just make it back, sneak in before the final bell, grab her bag—

Maybe they wouldn’t know.

Maybe they’d never know.

She darted around a corner, breath hitching, only to freeze—

Her breath caught.

Jason’s hand slammed against the glass wall beside her head, his towering figure casting a long shadow over her. His other hand wrapped around her upper arm in a grip that made her freeze. She flinched instinctively — cheeks warm, knuckles scratched, her school skirt rumpled and dirt-speckled from kneeling in the garden for too long.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jason’s voice was low. Not quite yelling. But almost worse — like thunder building behind steel.

She opened her mouth, but her words caught.

Behind him, the others had caught up. Dick, flushed with exertion, eyes glassy with disbelief. Tim was silent, his arms crossed, his jaw set like a ticking bomb. Damian stood stiff at the back, chest heaving beneath his uniform, green eyes narrowed and burning.

“I—” she started, licking her lips, “I had a free period. Mr. Keane didn’t come today. I just— I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think,” Jason snapped, “That’s exactly the problem.”

“Jay,” Dick’s voice was quiet, warning — but he didn’t stop him. None of them did.

Y/N stepped back, but Jason’s grip didn’t let go. “I just wanted to be alone for a bit. I didn’t even realize I left my bag— I didn’t mean to—”

“You forgot your phone,” Tim said sharply. “We couldn’t reach you for almost three hours. Your last ping was in school. You know what that looks like from our side?”

“I know,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Didn’t mean to—?” Damian let out a sound close to a scoff, stepping forward at last. “You’re lucky we found you. Do you even realize the risk? You could’ve been snatched off the street by any low-tier thug with half a brain. Or worse.”

“I wasn’t— It’s the garden,” she said quickly, her voice rising with desperation. “I was in the botanical garden, I just wanted to— I used to love going there— I thought it’d be okay—”

Jason exhaled hard, scrubbing his face with one hand. “If you needed space that bad, you come to me. I’ll take you out. You don’t disappear. Not again.”

Y/N’s lips parted. Her voice was small. “But I didn’t want to burden—”

Before she could finish, Dick had already reached her, tugging her out of Jason’s hold like it was nothing. He threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing — which compared to him, she did. She yelped, kicking weakly.

“No, no, I can walk—!”

“You lost that privilege the second you lied,” he said coldly, not even breaking pace.

Her fists hit his back, but it was like trying to punch marble. “Put me down, Dick!”

“Not a chance.”

“You’re being unreasonable! It was just one hour—!”

“It was three,” Tim corrected sharply.

She whined, her fists falling uselessly at her side.

„"يا حمقاء صغيرة,”

(— little idiot) Damian muttered behind her

Her eyes widened as she twisted in Dick’s grip.

“I am not—!”

“You are,” he growled, stalking after them. “You’re too weak to even go to the restrooms alone in school without getting dizzy. And you thought running off alone to play with plants would be safe?”

Y/N froze.

The mention of plants— his tone.

Then he added, tone colder now, sharper than glass:

“Tell me, did they whisper to you like your mother’s always did?”

That shut her up.

Her body tensed like a slap had landed. Her fists curled into her skirt. The breath in her throat vanished. Dick felt it immediately in the way her small frame stiffened against his shoulder.

“Damian,” he warned, his voice suddenly icy. “Shut. Up.”

Jason didn’t warn. He struck.

A hard jab against Damian’s arm sent the younger boy stumbling sideways.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he barked, voice a mixture of fury and disbelief.

“She has to hear it,” Damian snarled, but Jason pushed him back with another shove, harder this time.

“You don’t speak to her like that.”

Behind them, Y/N was silent, face buried against Dick’s shoulder now. Her eyes were wide, wet, full of something she couldn’t name. Shame. Pain. That old ache that had clung to her since childhood.

The fear that no matter what she did — they would always see her as Poison Ivy’s daughter. Not theirs.

Not truly loved.

None of the brothers spoke after that.

Even Tim, who usually deflected the tension, cracked a quiet joke or shifted the conversation to calm her down — stayed silent.

They were tense. Quiet. Fury buzzing beneath the surface. The weight of it followed them all the way to the car. All the way back to the Manor.

Back to the place she already knew would feel like a cage again.

______

The manor was cold when they stepped inside, yet her skin burned under Dick’s hold.

He hadn’t let go.

Not for a second.

He sat her down on the plush couch in the great room, but his arms stayed around her like a steel frame. Not tight — not hurting — but immovable. She squirmed once and he pulled her a little closer, as if to remind her:

You ran. I caught you. You don’t get to slip away again.

Her legs dangled off the edge of the cushion like a child’s. Dirt smudged her socks and the hem of her uniform skirt. Her hands were curled in her lap, nails bitten to the quick. Her face tilted down.

She didn’t dare look at any of them.

Still, when Alfred stepped in — calm, quiet — she managed a small, broken, “Hi, Alfred…”

His gaze swept over her in an instant, old eyes catching everything. Her flushed cheeks. Her mussed hair. The tension vibrating off the boys like a coiled spring. She wasn’t crying, but she looked like she might if one of them raised their voice too loud.

He knew the signs.

He always had.

“I see we’ve had a bit of an afternoon,” Alfred said gently, folding his hands behind his back. “You’ve stirred the lions’ den, Miss Y/N.”

She smiled weakly, eyes glossy. “Wasn’t on purpose…”

He hummed. Then softened. “Well. I was just about to prepare cinnamon rolls. Fresh. Extra soft. Shall I bring you one, dear?”

Her entire expression cracked open like sunlight through fog. She nodded instantly, eyes wide, round, desperate. “Yes, please…”

Jason, standing with his arms crossed by the fireplace, said nothing — but his jaw unclenched. Even Tim relaxed slightly.

Damian grumbled from his post behind the couch, “She wouldn’t be hungry now if she hadn’t skipped lunch to roll in garden weeds.”

Y/N flinched.

Then—

SLAM.

The front door snapped open with a crack like thunder. It slammed into the wall hard enough to rattle a frame loose.

She jumped in Dick’s hold — heart jumping to her throat, twisting around to look.

Bruce.

Her father’s silhouette stood at the threshold, tall, cloaked in tailored black. No cowl, no armor, no Bat — but the same grim gravity. The front of his shirt was still half-buttoned, the collar askew. He hadn’t come from the Cave.

He came from Wayne Tower.

And it had taken him less than seven minutes.

Y/N turned sharply to Dick, eyes wide. “You… you told him?”

He looked almost guilty — almost — but firm. “He’s your father.”

Even Jason didn’t protest. Even he knew this wasn’t something to hide.

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

If the brothers were fire, Bruce was ice. Controlled. Composed. Crushing.

His heavy steps echoed into the room. He didn’t say a word at first. He simply walked toward her, scanning her body the way only he could — for injury, signs of harm, danger. He crouched in front of the couch where she sat wrapped in Dick’s arms.

His eyes — steel-blue, unreadable — narrowed at her cheeks.

"You’re dirty,” he muttered, thumb swiping at a patch of soil.

She stiffened.

“You’re not hurt?” he asked lowly.

“N… no,” she whispered.

A beat. Then he stood. Tall. Unforgiving.

“Then explain.”

Every brother was silent now.

Jason leaned against the wall, arms folded. Tim stood behind the couch, half in shadow. Damian was unreadable but sharp, like a blade ready to draw.

Bruce’s gaze bore into her like a spotlight. “Why did you leave school. Why did you go off alone. Why did you leave your phone. And why the hell didn’t anyone know where you were.”

“I… I had a free period,” she mumbled. “I didn’t know I would— I thought I could—”

“You thought wrong,” Bruce snapped, voice cutting through the air.

She shrank into herself. “I just… I saw everyone was busy and I didn’t want to be a bother—”

“You’re not a bother,” Tim said tightly, the first to speak.

“I just needed air,” she said faster. “The garden— I haven’t been there in years—”

“Why?” Bruce’s tone was unrelenting.

She blinked.

“Why that garden?” he pressed.

“…Because I used to go there with Mom,” she whispered.

A pause.

Her voice broke. “She used to tell me the poppies whispered back.”

Bruce said nothing.

The entire room held its breath.

Jason looked away.

Damian’s jaw twitched.

Tim’s fingers tightened around the back of the couch.

Dick held her just a little closer.

And Bruce, for one brief flicker of a second — seemed to hesitate. A twitch in his brow. A flicker behind his eyes. Something he would never voice. Guilt, maybe. Memory. Something older than shame and deeper than pride.

But it passed.

“I should ground you for a month,” he said calmly.

She looked up at him, startled.

“But you’re not leaving my sight for a minute.”

He turned to Alfred. “Set up a cot in the Batcave. She’s coming down with me tonight.”

“But—!”

“No phone. No friends. You want air? I’ll give you filtered oxygen. The safest in the world. But you’re not walking out of a five-foot radius again without one of us at your side.”

“You can’t—!”

“I can. And I will.”

He looked at her. Dead on. “You don’t vanish on us again, Y/N. You don’t get to vanish. Not now. Not ever.”

Her lips trembled.

But she said nothing.

Because part of her — the part that had died once already — knew he meant it.

And another, smaller part…

…wondered if this was what love looked like, when it was so twisted it wrapped around itself.

——-

Y/N sat on the edge of the stiff cot like it had personally offended her.

Her arms were crossed. Her chin tilted high. The toes of her fuzzy socks tapped the steel floor in uneven frustration. Alfred had brought her pajamas and tucked her hair gently behind her ears before retreating with the same calm grace he always had. But even the cinnamon roll he left behind — warm, dusted with sugar, perfect — sat untouched on the tray in front of her.

She wasn’t eating.

She wasn’t talking.

She was pouting.

And grumbling.

Loudly.

In German.

Tim, hunched over a monitor just a few feet away, flicked his gaze to her every few seconds like she might suddenly explode. Bruce, standing by the Batcomputer, had tried ignoring it.

It hadn’t worked.

“Was habe ich getan, um das zu verdienen,” she muttered in a pointed tone, hands flopping into her lap as she stared at the cave floor. “Kein Buch, nicht mal ein Fernseher. Nichts. Aber sie erwarten, dass ich hier wie ein Hund sitze.”

(What did I do to deserve this? …. No book, not even a TV. Nothing. But they expect me to sit here like a dog)

Tim blinked slowly. “Did she just call herself a dog?”

“I didn’t talk to you,” Y/N snapped in English.

“You said it near me.”

“I was talking to the floor.”

Bruce closed the file on the screen. The glow of it dimmed.

Then he turned.

Y/N immediately looked away, her brows twitching into a deeper sulk.

Without a word, Bruce stepped over, towering like always. She expected him to bark another order. Or drop a lecture from ten feet above. Instead…

…he crouched.

His knees popped slightly as he bent to match her height.

It still didn’t quite work — he was too massive, too broad — but he tried.

“Du bist wütend,” he said calmly in German.

(You’re mad)

She blinked.

Then narrowed her eyes. “You don’t get to use my secret language against me.”

He tilted his head, amused. “It’s mine too. You were just better at remembering it.”

She didn’t answer.

He looked at her — properly this time.

No cape. No growl. No cowl. Just Bruce. And in that moment, somehow… her dad.

“I know you think this is unfair,” he said gently, voice low. “But I have to do this.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you want to. Because you all like keeping me in cages.”

His jaw clenched. “You ran.”

“I sat in a garden.”

“You didn’t tell anyone where you were.”

“I forgot my phone!”

“You forgot us.”

That shut her up.

For a moment.

Then she exhaled hard through her nose. Her voice cracked slightly.

“I didn’t mean anything bad.”

“I know.”

She blinked, surprised by the immediacy of his response.

His eyes held hers. “I know you didn’t.”

There was a beat of silence between them.

Then she shook her head, expression tight. “I just needed space, Daddy. Just… a second. You guys left me alone all the time before. You didn’t even care. For years, you didn’t even notice I was at the table. Now I’m not allowed to blink without all of you watching.”

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

“It’s too much.”

His face didn’t move. But something in his shoulders shifted — almost imperceptibly. The Bat didn’t bow. Bruce Wayne did.

“I’m trying,” he said, so quietly it was almost a confession.

She sniffled. Her hands balled in her lap. “You’re all so mean to me.”

His breath caught. “Y/N…”

She looked up.

And for a moment — a sharp, heart-wrenching second — she wasn’t a runaway or a danger or a rule-breaker or a risk.

She was just his daughter.

His little girl.

And she looked so small in this cave.

Bruce exhaled softly. He reached out — let his hand rest on the tray, not her, not yet. He wasn’t sure if she’d let him.

“You don’t understand,” he said lowly. “None of us can imagine this world without you. Not anymore.”

Her lip wobbled.

He reached for the cinnamon roll, tore off a small piece, and held it out.

“Eat.”

She stared at it like it was poison.

Then — slowly — she reached for it, bit the corner of it off like a sulky bunny. Her lips chewed. She glanced up to make sure he wasn’t smirking.

He wasn’t.

He was watching her like she might fall apart again.

“…It’s good,” she mumbled after a second.

He nodded.

She took another bite. Then a third. Soon the whole piece was gone and she was licking sugar off her thumb.

“Don’t tell Jason I ate it. I‘m mad at him.” she said.

“Too late,” Tim called from the side, not even looking up. “The Cave has audio.”

She groaned.

But she kept chewing.

And Bruce, still crouched, simply stayed there. Watching. Guarding. Not as Batman.

Just a man who didn’t know how to hold the world… except through her.

_____

The soft sound of breathing filled the Batcave.

It wasn’t coming from the men pacing between computer terminals, or the quiet clicking of keys. It came from the cot in the corner, tucked just beside the Batcomputer’s glow — where the youngest member of the Wayne family had finally fallen asleep.

Y/N layed curled on her side, a blanket half-draped over her legs, her cheek pressed against a plush pillow Alfred had insisted be added for her comfort. Her lips were parted slightly, a smudge of cinnamon sugar still tucked at the edge of her mouth from the roll she’d devoured in slow, sleepy defiance.

And curled protectively around her frame — like a sentinel — was Titus.

The massive dog rested his snout gently across her calves, tail flicking once in mild alertness. No one was getting close to her without getting past him first.

Tim sat in front of the main monitor, legs stretched, one hand lazily navigating security feeds. The other hand was curled beneath his chin. His coffee had gone cold.

He hadn’t stopped working.

But his eyes kept drifting.

Back to her.

Every thirty seconds.

His sister.

His soft, delicate, reckless little sister.

He studied her curled fingers. Her flushed cheeks. Her messy hair that had fallen from its clip.

He exhaled slowly.

“Good thing I put that tracker in her.”

He muttered it under his breath, a near-whisper. Not proud — but not ashamed, either. She didn’t know, of course. None of them had told her it was in her. In her arm, just beneath the skin, placed during a routine visit after her last escape. Painless. Seamless.

Permanent.

He tapped the screen.

The red dot — her signal — blinked steady from her current location. Safe.

He let himself breathe again.

Footsteps echoed behind him.

He didn’t need to turn to know who they belonged to.

Dick came in first, helmet tucked under one arm, still in Nightwing gear, hair windswept and eyes immediately scanning the Cave.

They softened the second they landed on her.

Jason followed a second later, tossing his helmet on a nearby table with a huff. Red Hood was still splattered with grime from the streets, but his expression cracked the moment he saw her there — safe, asleep, untouched.

He blinked.

“…Tch. Gremlin,” he muttered, low.

Dick walked right to her and knelt beside the cot. His gloved hand reached out, fingers running lightly through her hair.

She didn’t stir.

“She refused to eat earlier when I offered,” Jason grumbled, folding his arms. “Acted like I was trying to poison her.”

Dick smiled faintly. “She took it from Bruce. Of course she did. She’s still mad at us for telling him.”

“She can be mad,” Jason said gruffly, but his eyes didn’t leave her face. “Better mad than missing.”

Tim hummed in agreement from the desk.

“Doesn’t matter how much she hates it,” he said, turning slightly. “She’s not going anywhere again. Not without one of us. Not without ten of us, if I can help it.”

Jason raised an eyebrow.

Tim tapped the side of his temple.

“Every message she sends. Every step she takes. I see it. She’s not going anywhere I don’t approve.”

Dick didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he pulled the blanket up over her shoulder and tucked it beneath her chin.

“…Good.”

Jason sighed through his nose, eyes still locked on the quiet, dreaming girl in the cot. His voice was softer this time.

“Next time she wants flowers, I’ll drive her myself.”

Tim snorted. “You’d burn the garden down if it looked at her wrong.”

Jason didn’t deny it.

Dick leaned over and kissed her temple.

“…Goodnight, little bloom,” he whispered.

They didn’t leave the Cave for hours.

They watched her sleep.

And not a single one of them planned to let her out of their sight ever again.

[misspantymime]

Damian: Now, what do you say if someone tells you to go with them because they're my friend? Anya! Reader: I'm not going with you! Damian: Good, now- Anya! Reader: Damian doesn't have friends! Damian:

[womanofwords]

Audience Participation (Part 7/Final)

Neglected!fourthwall!reader x yandere!batfam

"Alex! Get my camera!" your coworker, Athena, yelled. "This vampire squid is so cute!"

"Give me a second!" you yelled, rushing over to get her camera. You'd been on this ship for six heavenly months, and you loved it here. Everyone was so nice, and you got to spend all day making notes and little watercolours about marine life. You'd even gotten recognition for it in a magazine. "Oh my god, the little guy is so cute!"

"I know! If I get a good enough photograph, imagine the super-cool painting you can make!" Athena insisted.

You were nothing like the way you were when you first arrived in Canada. You got your name changed legally there (about time!) so there would be no paperwork in the USA linking you to your new identity. You ditched all your wigs and changed your hair, growing it long and dying sections of it your favourite colour. You got lots of tattoos, but none of them were permanent. "Beauty should not be pain," you would reply to anybody that asked.

In a sado-masochistic twist, you liked keeping up with the Y/N Wayne case. The details baffled true crime podcasters everywhere: all your tech left behind, and yet 100 pesos on your bed. There were hints at Mexico with all your sightings being in the Gotham area. You said you'd be spending a week with your friends, but none of these kids knew you and you had never booked a hotel.

Your family were appealing to everybody with information to please come forward and to stop prank-calling them with false sightings of some kid named Alex Mass. You smirked. Clayface was good.

"That kid is definitely dead by now," your boss, Carl, scoffed when he saw you reading about the Y/N Wayne updates. "Someone probably killed them and ate the body. You know how Gotham is. We've heard the stories."

"That is rather likely," you mused, trying not to laugh in his face.

Y/N Wayne was dead, and Alex Mass was the murderer.

First

Previous

Taglist: @bunniotomia, @hai-there-how-are-you, @crystal-freak24, @maskedvoyance, @cupid73, @lettucel0ver, @wisefuncherryblossom, @lineakazuh16, @leeiasure, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @senhoritaapple, @cleverruinsobject.

[your-obsessed-fallen-angel]

When mother first created humans I thought they were cute. Like little brainless puppies. Not knowing what they are & why they are here, only knowing the basics on how to survive.

But as humanity grew they became more and more like crazed toddlers. They were unpredictable knowing nothing but acting like they knew everything. The violence, sinning, killing.

I still love humans but they became pathetic. I was so tired.

But when mother made you it all changed. Humans as a species became a dirty roach, Mother a nagging voice to tune out, and you. You my dear, became a deity higher than mother herself!

You are all I worship my dear! Please worship me back!

[stove-top96]

Eat your Young

Ch. 00

Y Batfam x GN Reader

Soulmate and Mafia AU

Featuring Platonic: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Al Ghul Wayne

810 words

Masterlist

Ch.00 -> Ch. 01

Five strips.

Each a different colour across your right forearm. ¼ inch thick, 1 inch long.

Black. Blue. Red. Orange. Green.

You knew what they represented, you’ve been preparing to meet them ever since they burned themselves into your arm at the ripe age of 5.

It hurt only for a minute, you remember it like it was yesterday. The excruciating burn of fire as the colours filled up the 5 tiny rectangles. You cried for days to your parents that’d you never forgive your soulmates for doing this to you. You’ve never experienced pain like that before, and no pain has ever come close.

but now— you’d go through it all over again. if it meant finally meeting at least one of them.

You were the first kid in your tiny neighborhood to get your mark, but the last to meet their soulmate. It’s been hard watching your friends grow distant— they drifted away one by one, swept away by destiny. They rarely made time for you now, choosing to spend their days with their soulmate over you. You never blamed them— you were sure you’d do the exact same thing once you met yours.

Throughout the years you’re sure you’ve seen it all. The platonic friendships that feel unbreakable, Lovers whose stories feel like a movie, toxic ties that neither person could escape from.

Soulmates didn’t always mean safety. For many the connection was too much, the love between soulmates is often overwhelming, and can cause them to hurt each other. But even when soulmates hurt each other— physically, emotionally or worse, they always stay together because they were chosen for each other.

Being chosen. The thought brings you a lot of comfort. As you lay in bed tracing your thumb over your marks, just as vibrant as the day you got them— still strong, still waiting for you like you are for them.

Five strips.

Five colours.

Five people, destined to choose you.

—

Wayne.

A name that carried so much weight in Gotham it was taboo for even the slimiest of criminals to mention. The Wayne crime family was established generations ago, built on drugs, politics, and blood. The Wayne’s have built their empire through fear and power. The current head, Bruce Wayne, known for his calculated leadership and ruthless methods, his reputation as the most dangerous Godfather haunts the streets of Gotham.

Dick. Jason. Tim. Damian. The sons of Bruce Wayne— adopted or biological, the four boys carry the same expectations to live up to the family's legacy and earn the title Wayne.

Richard Grayson, the eldest son. His charisma and charm are his greatest strength. He was born with the uncanny ability to make anyone comfortable— lower their guard, spill their secrets, betray their friends. He’s a people person who can spot a liar and a rat before they even have the chance to become one. He is the family’s spy, gathering and distributing information he knows everything going on around him.

Jason Todd, The second son. Born in the streets of Gotham, and reshaped into something terrifying. His control over the eastside has allowed him to strengthen the family’s drug ring and connections. He is the family’s brute force— his men are everywhere, their loyalty to him unwavering, all it takes is one call for something or someone to disappear.

Tim Drake, The third son. His mind and detective skills are his most prized talents. He has honed his intelligence and perfected his technologies, he built Wayne's digital empire from the bottom up— bugging phones, planting surveillance, nothing happens without him knowing. His obsessive nature and sharp mind make him their family’s greatest strategist.

Damian Al Ghul Wayne, the fourth son. The blood heir, raised as an assassin— he was born for war. His strength and skill has allowed him to cut through enemies without a second thought, maintaining the family’s status and reputation. His loyalty is unwavering, and his temper is lethal. He is the family’s future, and it’s a responsibility he doesn’t take lightly.

To the public, the family is an urban legend, barely seen— only blurred photographs, and rumours from tabloid magazines keep their image alive. The poparizie learned years ago to stay away and only take photos of what they want them to see. To Gothams underworld they were God— Ruthless, Cruel, and power hungry. Each family member uses their unique talents to Keep the bloodstained Wayne legacy thriving.

Being bonded together by fate and having immense strength and power, the family is in a league of their own. However despite this, they are still incomplete, they are still missing one thing— Their last mark, the final member of their family. They need you to be fulfilled, to have everything they could possibly want— which is why they are willing to do anything to find you.

Hey guys I’m back!! I feel like I definitely am a little rusty but oh well once I post a few more one shots and chapters I’ll be back into it. My sports thing went swimmingly I am so proud of myself!! But it’s over so now I can write as much as I want, updates will still be random but more frequent. I’m cooking up Ch. 04 of Wicked game as well as a lot of one shots (ty guys so much for sending me Ideasss). This chapter is mostly just world building so when I post chapter one there is already an idea of how the soulmate stuff works and how the Wayne crime family runs. But I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a while and it’s low key a combination of 2 fics I’ve read. @darkstaria soul animal fic it is so good, and @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff this is me trying, I love all of Mimi’s story’s they are so good. Anyways let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist thank you guys!!!

[acosmicbee]

Rising Star

(The Kpop Demon Hunters inspired fic I've been working on! Hope you all enjoy it! All band names were made up on the spot so if theres a shared name with a real band... whoops. Also! I just want to say that I hope you're all safe with all the floods going on around the country right now (Both in Texas and North Carolina). My heart goes out to everyone affected and I hope everyone's okay.)

It wasn't news that the bands 'Three of Hearts' and 'D4RK3Y3' hated each other. Even if the fans never openly acknowledged it and both groups constantly attended the same events, there was always some sort of tension between them.

Both of their leaders, Blair from Three of Hearts and Rowan from D4RK3Y3, could hardly be in the same room as each other. Their thinly veiled insults back and forth were often disregarded of their true meaning by their fanbases and instead interpreted as 'hostile flirting'.

Neither of them were happy about that. In fact, Blair spent most of her time on talkshows having to reiterate again and again that nothing had ever, or would ever, happen between her and Rowan. Rowan just laughed, truly laughed like it was the most hilarious and unserious thing ever, whenever someone mentioned any of the dating rumors.

The other members of Three of Hearts, Calliope and Maeve, were in the same boat. Even though they weren't as openly hostile with Dante and Kenji, the other members of D4RK3Y3, they were still being shipped mercilessly.

Their bands were in constant conflict, always trading #1 and #2 spots between each other week by week. A concert would shoot D4RK3Y3 to the top only for a merch launch to reinstate Three of Hearts. It was a never ending rivalry.

Perhaps it was the lack of attention they were paying to the rest of the ranks every week. Maybe it was just somehow slipping under the radar, who knows? All they know is both Blair and Rowan woke up one day to an unfamiliar name in the number 3 trending spot.

Current Music Rankings:

1 - D4RK3Y3

2 - Three of Hearts

3 - Y/N L/N

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

For you, on the other hand, it was a perfectly normal morning. You woke up with a yawn, immediately checking for any texts from your manager. Technically, he was your father's manager, but he'd more-so taken you on as his main client at your father's request when your singing career began to take off.

There was a reminder about a photoshoot for a clothing line during the morning, then rehearsal for your show tonight, then the show itself. You still remembered dropping your phone in shock when you saw how much tickets were selling for before publicly asking people to please stop reselling your tickets for the price of someone's rent.

It wasn't like you needed money, being a nepo baby of a famous actor. The only reason you'd started singing was because it made you happy and feel wanted by someone. You made sure to give out more than almost anyone else in what you not only paid your team for their help, but charities of your choosing.

It was part of the reason you had such loyal staff members, even if you didn't think of them as such. Your manager was Uncle Chris, your lead makeup artist was Aunt Connie. They were your family, the only people you had who saw the real you.

You were already humming one of the songs you'd be performing tonight as you sat at the kitchen counter, a plate of pancakes and a cup of chamomile tea waiting for you. Chris walked in a few minutes after you sat down, on the phone with someone as he handed you a written version of your schedule for the day.

"Save your voice, Y/N. Wouldn't want you to lose it before the performance tonight." Chris said, finally getting off his phone call. "Now, lets get ready to go to that photoshoot, yeah?"

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

"Turn a little- yeah, there." Honestly the photoshoot wasn't going too badly. The clothes were comfortable, even if they did feel a little childish. Then again, that was the brand you had somehow managed to accumulate.

All cutesy and soft and pastel. You didn't entirely hate it, at least not all the time, but it got tiring after a while. It didn't help that it made a lot of the other singers or actors you'd worked with in the past treat you like a child. You were a very proud 15 year old, thank you very much.

You were changing into one of the last outfits, some cozy space themed sweatpants and a soft, oversized sweater with stars stitched into it, when the door to the studio opened.

"Marcello! We are in the middle of a shoot!" You could hear the photographer yelling as you exited the dressing room. You had to do a double take when you saw Blair Axford walking behind him, a strangled wheeze leaving your throat.

You'd been a fan of Three of Hearts since their debut, you had their posters up in your bedroom. You also had some D4RK3Y3 posters as well, but your true inspiration was Three of Hearts. The song that had made Chris notice you as more than his boss' child was one of theirs.

"Miss Blair! I apologize, but I'm in the middle of a shoot right now." The photographer said. You could see Blair's eyes looking around before they landed on you. You who were currently dressed in childish space themed almost-pajamas in front of one of your biggest idols.

Needless to say you felt your face burning in embarrassment when she smiled at you, a soft smile that you've seen parents give their children. She walked over to you, her blond hair in a flawless ponytail as she extended her hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. You're Y/N L/N, right? I've heard a lot about you." She said kindly, laughing a little at your flustered expression.

"Please excuse her, Y/N's a giant fan of yours." Chris said, approaching the two of you. His words only make your face darken more as you eagerly ran back to where the photographer was waiting. "I'm Christopher Farley, Y/N's manager and family friend."

"They're a cute kid." She said, watching as the photographer positioned you in the bedroom-esque set. A book about space spread across your lap as you stared out at a green screen window. "Are they really a fan?"

"Actually, it was your music that got them into singing. I think I still have the video somewhere of them at 6 years old singing along to one of your songs as they danced around the living room." He said with a laugh. "Just don't tell them I told you that. They can get rather shy."

"Long time fan, huh... They're what, 15? So they've been a fan since we started playing basically." Blair said, doing the math in her head. She watched as the photographer had you lay on the set's bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Anyway, I just came here to see if Liam was busy so we could talk about an upcoming photoshoot. I'll be taking my leave now."

With that she made her way towards the exit to the studio only to pause to wave at you as you exited the set to change into the last outfit of the shoot. "Bye sweetheart!" She called, watching as your face instantly went bright red.

As she stepped out into the hallway she pulled out her phone, calling Calliope. "Hey Cal, is Maeve with you?... I scoped out the kid rising the ranks like I said I would but I think we all underestimated how adorable they are... They aren't after our rank, it's not another D4RK3Y3 type thing. Anyway, they're having a concert tonight and I think I'm gonna buy us all tickets so you can see for yourselves."

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

"I'm here." Rowan said, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He hadn't wanted to spend an arm and a leg on some ticket for a kid who was trying to steal his band's rightful spot at the top of the charts, but here he was. Front row too.

It was bad enough dealing with Blair and her harpies without some dumb kid getting thrown into the mix. Unfortunately, Dante and Kenji both had stuff to do so here he was, suffering alone in a sea of young adults.

When the show finally started he had to admit to himself that he could see the appeal. You were wearing this pastel purple jacket with cute swirls all over it and light blue pants. It was cute, a nice appropriate outfit for a kid, even if it did make you look a bit younger.

It was toward the end of the concert when you paused in the middle of a song, gesturing for the band to stop playing as your eyes fixed on the mezzanine. "Does someone need medical attention up there?" You asked, a hand blocking the light from your eyes as you searched the crowd.

"Can we get some medical attention up there please?" You asked, looking offstage. "Is there anyone else who needs help right now? Anyone who needs water?"

It was only after making sure that everyone else was okay, and getting a couple of people who needed it some water, that you continued. It was mature of you, Rowan thought. He'd heard and seen his fair share of accidents at concerts, but normally it was the security who noticed first.

But you had been the one to stop the music, to call out and make sure your fans were okay. Maybe you were more than just a dumb kid. When the show finally ended, he found himself a little surprised at how enjoyable it had been.

You clearly had fun, performing like that. You were a natural. Of course he knew that the whole pastel, innocent vibe was just marketing, but it worked well. Maybe he bought some merch of yours that night, maybe he didn't. But he never looked to his left to see three familiar girls talking in hushed tones as they did the same.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

"Two collabs!" Chris said, when you finally emerged from your room for breakfast the next day. "This is so amazing, Y/N!"

"My brain isn't working this early. Why are you so excited?" You murmured, your throat a little sore from all the singing yesterday. A cup of tea was waiting for you and you took a sip, relaxing as the flavor of honey and ginger hit your taste buds.

"Both the managers for Three of Hearts and D4RK3Y3 reached out asking about possible collaborations! Apparently some members of both bands were at your show last night and were really impressed with your work!" That made you spit out your tea, choking and coughing as you did so.

"H-Huh...?!" You stuttered, wiping tea off of your face with the arm of your pajamas. "Wait, what kinds of collaborations are we talking about?!"

"For Three of Hearts, they want you to record a song with them for their upcoming album. D4RK3Y3's manager said something about a photoshoot for a different clothing line." Chris said, typing furiously on his phone.

"Why would they want me- basically their rival as far as rankings is concerned- to model for them?" You questioned suspiciously, taking an actual sip of tea this time.

"Same reason as why Blair 'accidentally' stopped by the photographers yesterday during your shoot." Chris said, never looking up from his phone. "They're scoping out the competition."

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

"Wow. You're tinyer in person."

You barely had time to be offended before another boy appeared on your other side, playfully stealing your hat and holding it out of your reach.

"They are quite small. I guess you really aren't lying about your age. Only a kid would be that small." He said, holding your hat higher when you tried jumping for it. "Aw, look at you trying to play adult.

"Dante, Kenji, stop teasing them." Rowan chuckled, appearing out of the back room. "They are our guest, after all."

Rowan had definitely perfected the whole 'bad boy' persona he was known for. He absolutely had the smirk and tone down at least. Kenji had finally lowered your hat just enough that you were able to snatch it back with an annoyed huff.

You rolled your eyes as you shoved your hat back on your head, deciding to be the bigger person, even if you weren't physically. "My name is Y/N L/N. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Wow, so formal! I'm sure you know who we are already, do we even need an introduction?" Dante asked with a sly smile. "Then again, I guess it's probably 100 times better to hear it in person. I'm Dante Cromwell."

"Kenji Sato at your service, pipsqueak." Kenji said, appearing on your other side as he ushered you further into the studio. "Come on kid, let's see what you've got. Apparently you can sing well enough without autotune, but is all that photogenic stuff natural?"

"Guys, be nice," Rowan laughed, following the three of you inside as the shoot began.

You were better than they thought, better than they expected. You listened well to the photographer, and the outfits looked good on you, even if they were outside your normal marketed range of pastels. You pulled off red and black, D4RK3Y3's signature colors, well.

Not to mention you had the most adorable pout whenever they'd tease you, like a wronged puppy. When Chris finally came to pick you up, already on his phone talking about some other thing you had to do, they were a bit disappointed to see you go.

"Hmm... Maybe we should do something else with them." Dante suggested, from the passenger seat of Kenji's bright red porsche. Kenji himself hummed in agreement from behind the wheel.

The pictures would launch in a couple of weeks, once they were done being edited and photoshopped. Rowan was wondering how much the photographer would charge for all the raw shots from today, the ones that still had a little bit of the true you in them. Maybe that was something worth spending money on.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

“Oh my god, you’re even cuter in person! Blair, you held out on us!” Maeve yelled, squishing your cheeks. You’d barely even entered the recording studio before she’d descended upon you, cooing and aweing at you.

“Chill out Mae-Mae, you’re gonna scare them off. They are cute though.” Calliope said from where she was tuning her guitar. “You ready to sing, sweetheart?”

You nodded, fighting back an embarrassed blush. This was almost worse than the nonstop teasing you’d endured from D4RK3Y3 a couple days ago during the photoshoot. At least the girls were being nice about it, even if they were treating you a little childishly.

“I’m sure you’ll do great, you have an amazing voice.” Blair laughed, coming up behind Maeve to pull her off of you. “The producer is asking for you. Ready to record?”

“Yep!” You eagerly ran inside, hoping you weren’t noticably flustered. After all, how often is it that you not only get to meet, but work with your heroes? Almost never! Well besides the photoshoot from a few days ago… but still! This oportunity might never come around again so you were going to do your best to make them proud.

You did your best, listening when the producer had you try different ways of singing it, playing around with the sounds. By the time you had finally been given the ‘okay’ that your part sounded perfect, you were tired, but happy. 

You were invited to stick around and watch as Blair, Calliope and Maeve finished up their own recordings. It was so interesting to you to be on the other side of the recording booth for someone else. You felt like your life was made all the more complete when they invited you out to dinner to celebrate only for your heart to be crushed when Chris walked in and heard them.

“Y/N, you have dinner with your father tonight. He’s coming home from his most recent shoot.” He shut you down with a dissapointed sigh when you tried to argue that this was the first that you were hearing about it, already ushering you out the door. “I told you this morning Y/N, I know I did. Maybe you can have dinner with them another time.”

Blair, Calliope and Maeve watched how unhappy you looked as you were spoken to like a child. They knew you cared for your manager from how you’d talked about him when they’d asked earlier, but that could’ve also been because he was all you had in terms of support. Either way, it rubbed them the wrong way. Your happiness should’ve been the top priority and maybe it was time for someone to show you that.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

“What is that.” Rowan demanded, glaring at the artist and song rankings for the week. Last week D4RK3Y3 had been on top again so he knew Three of Hearts would probably revive from the dead like every week, but he hadn’t been expecting this.

“You’re joking.” Dante hissed, angrily begining to pace Rowan’s apartment. Kenji didn’t even have anything to say, just walking over to the punching bag in the corner and taking a few hard swings at it. Even when the chain creaked dangerously he didn’t stop, anger overtaking him. They were all angry.

Some new single, catchy enough title and chorus, yada yada, whatever. Didn’t matter. What mattered was the little ‘(feat. Y/N L/N)’ next to the song title. You. How had they gotten to you first?! More importantly, why hadn’t they though to ask you for a song collab first?! How could they have let Blair and her crones steal you away?! No, no they’d show you that they were better. 

The second the clothing line launched and the photoshoot pictures went viral, everyone would see you in their colors. You were just some kid who needed a little help to see who really had your best interests at heart. Sure, they were a little mean and rough around the edges, but you’d handled it so well. Don’t worry, they’d protect you.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

“I can’t believe them!” Maeve hissed, her hands vibrating in anger around her phone screen. “Red and black?! Those aren’t even their best colors! Look at how shaded and dark it makes their face look!”

“You know how those three get. They’re like dogs, mercilessly marking anything they can.” Calliope was already writing a whole new diss track on them, her pen angrily scratching against the pages of her notebook. “Those no good, dirty-!”

“Poor Y/N. I doubt they even knew what they were getting into.” Blair lamented, falling back onto her couch. “Poor sweetheart… We should reach out to them and see if they’re okay.”

Of course you didn’t mean to work with such antagonistic people. It was surely that awful manager of yours who’d forced you into it and you were just too naieve to see it! They’d find some way to take care of him- to take care of you! Oh poor dear, don’t you worry, soon you’ll be safe. Then maybe they could finally take you out for dinner like you’d wanted.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

It had been a weird few weeks to say the least. Both D4RK3Y3 and Three of Hearts had reached out practically demanding more collabs. The fans were loving it, already passing around rumors about their sudden interest in you.

Of course there was the gross minority with the super wrong ideas, but you ignored them. There were the fans saying that the whole thing was a rivalry competition and you were the current item being fought over. As in, whoever got the most popular collab with you won. 

Then there were the others who immediately started talking about how it was clear Rowan and Blair had broken up, and you were the child of divorce, getting pulled from parent to parent. Honestly, it wasn’t even that far off, aside from the fact that they were never together.

From the way they talked about each other you’d think some super messy divorce had gone on. Rowan, Kenji and Dante spent most of their collab time with you, outside of actually doing the necesary work, warning you about how Blair just wanted to steal your soul like some kind of demon and how they would protect you like the ‘honorary big brothers’ they were.

Blair, Calliope and Maeve made it known just how little they thought of the boys. They were playboys, bullies, cheaters. They couldn’t be honest to save their lives. They were only interested in you because you were the newest shiny thing, but don’t worry your pretty little head. You had them on your side and they would save you.

Either way you started telling Chris to start rejecting some of the collabs. You were tired and needed a break, not to mention you were tired of being stuck between the two groups. The fans were right, you really were embodying a child of divorce right now. Maybe you should donate some more money towards free therapy for children in need, or get a therapist yourself. Or a vacation. Yeah, a vacation sounded nice.

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

It had been a week of complete silence. Any calls immediately went to voicemail, all texts went unanswered. It was like you had just… vanished. Gone.

It was coinidence that both bands got fed up on the same day, making the trip out to your house to make sure that you were okay. Despite their mutual hatred for each other, their concern and worry for you overwhelmed that. Both groups were standing at the top of the stairs, ringing the doorbell when the front door opened.

Of course they knew who your father was, everyone did. You never hid your nepo baby status, but it was different seeing him in person. He didn’t even seem surprised, just welcomed them in with a knowing smile, leading them to a fancy sitting room.

“Y/N isn’t here right now. They’re currently enjoying a nice, phone-free vacation halfway across the world. They may be my child but everyone gets overwhelmed now and again.” He said, elegantly perched on a fancy leather chair.

“When will they be back?” Maeve and Kenji asked simultaniously, only to glare at each other.

“Depends on when they feel rested.” He said with a sly smile. “But lets be real here. You six are possesive, no? More so than what is considered ‘socially acceptable’. It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been in your shoes before, but it does bother Y/N. My question is, what are you going to do to make them feel more comfortable? To make them feel safe enough that they rely on you by themself?”

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹

When you finally arrived home from vacation it was blissfully peaceful. Three of Hearts and D4RK3Y3 had backed off, saying they were ready for you when you wanted to collab with them. They would wait for when you wanted to have dinner with them. They’d even stop fighting around you if it would make you happy.

Truth be told, it worked. It was more enjoyable being around them now, you were happier. You would navigate lunch and dinners around your busy schedule, finding time to spend with them. They seemed to have changed, then again, your dad said they had stopped by while you were on vacation and he’d talked to them. Maybe he’d said something to convince them to tone it down.

You would likely never know that he’d instead taught them to hide it better. To cover their tracks and find their own ways to indulge without overwhelming you. Photos, videos, social media posts. Soon they’d know you better than you knew yourself.

It was refreshing to know that there would be people looking out for his darling child. He loved you in his own way, but he was a busy man with a chosen little sibling of his own. One he’d certainly been neglecting with his busy filming schedule. Maybe it was time to be home for a bit, take some time for himself. After all, he was sure Chris was beginning to get a bit lonely, even if he did have you.

Rest assured, he’d make sure your new siblings never went too far, but wasn’t it nice to feel loved and cared for? Wasn’t it nice to have such dedicated big siblings? All you needed to do was accept it.

[lieutenant-lithuania]

Yandere!Dad that grew up rough. He had a deadbeat dad and a mom who drank her emotions away. They fought verbally and physically, and he had to watch it all.

He never got proper care or love as a child, his father told him to be a man and just grow up already, and his mom waved him away, saying "Be better than him."

He hated everything. He fought in illegal rings and got dirty money in return. He used that money to hook up with random women on the street. Unfortunately, that's how he met your mom.

There was a period of time where she was as sweet as honey pie, but it all came crashing down when she found out she was pregnant. He didn't want to keep it. Fear gnawed at his heart and lungs, telling him that he'll end up just like his own old man and ruin an innocent soul. Months creeping up to his newborns birth caused him to become distant and avoidant of his supposed love. She didn't like it and ended up not only screaming at the top of her lungs at him, but slapping him right across the face.

His nightmares were uncurling right before him.

He only stayed around for the kid. Yandere!Dad couldn't leave you with her, he saw too many signs of her being just like his mom.

But when you were born. All of it changed. He held you in his arms, and all the fear melted into something foreign. Love.

He shed tears he hasn't let out for decades, seeing you grasp at his shirt and make little noises. You haven't even opened your eyes yet. You were so frail and weak, vulnerable to everything around you.

After that, he watched over you like a hawk. Multiple nights were spent hovering over your crib and just staring at you. He was exhausted, terrified. But nothing in his body let him peel away from you.

Your mom on the other hand walked out of your life. She got jealous of her own child. Yandere!Dad paid too much attention to you apparently. As if he cared.

He spent every being of his life learning how to tend to you and how to love you. He was hopeless, but he persecuted. All for you, his one true thing.

Ever time you cried he panicked— even when you were a toddler and threw little tantrums over everything, he'd just run to you and coddle you.

He would be hesitant to take away the childproofing barriers— what if you got hurt?!

Don't even get him started when you became a teen. All of a sudden you jumped at every opportunity to be out of his persistent gaze. You began to form your own opinions and were barely persuaded by his words anymore. He missed the little naive you, but couldn't be prouder of how you turned out. (Just stop giving him heart attacks, please.)

If you didn't message him for too long all of a sudden your phone is vibrating off the table with how much he's blowing up your phone. If you get hurt while outside he will gently scold you. He'd treat you, of course, but moments like that only cut away at his resolve and patience.

His little baby isn't so little anymore. The older you get, the more scared he gets. Every night he is visited by thoughts that tempt him all to well.

Keep you locked up inside where he can always watch you and make sure you're safe. He won't have to worry about you making the wrong friends or making bad choices.

Don't test his patience. He's already too close to falling over that edge.

[i-bite-whitepeople-for-fun]

isekai'd into a dogshit tumblr batfam x neglected reader fanfic

Sorry it took so long to post this chapter... Also sorry if this chapter is dogshit.

(Duke in this fic is like 17-18. Have fun reading)

Chapter 3

You felt like crap after that whole mess in Bruce's office. You honestly thought he would find out, thankfully he didn't. But you are kind of concerned about what Bruce was muttering. Maybe you accidentally kick Bruce neglectful father to yandere father pipeline, with that lie you told him.

.

.

.

OH FUCK. YOU JUST KICK STARTED THE YANDERE DOMINO!

If Bruce becomes aware of his (and by proxy, the families) neglect towards you it's going to make him go full on crazy yandere! And if that happen then the rest of the family is going to follow suit! Wait calm down, maybe you can fix this! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU KIDDING! YOU'RE DOOMED!!

YOU CAN SEE YOURSELF GETTING LOCKED IN YOUR ROOM, ONLY LET OUT WHEN SOMEONE IS MONITORING YOU! JUST YOU BEING CONSTANTLY BEING WATCHED! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE IN THIS FUCK ASS MANOR SURROUNDED BE CRAZY ASS PEOPLE THAT AREN'T EVEN YOUR REAL FAMILY!!!

You pace around your room for a good hour or so until you've calmed down and thought harder about the situation. Bruce might think that he so over worked that he forgot what you like, and with how much is on his plate he'll probably believe it! So maybe you overreacted a little bit……. Okay maybe a lot, you overreacted a lot. Getting your shit together, you decide to go out shopping because your filthy rich!

But if you want to go out you can't go by yourself, cause when the reader goes out by themselves they usually get killed, kidnapped, or get hurt badly. And when stuff like that happen it usually makes the batfam go down a rabbithole of crazy bullshit, and you really don't want to get caught up in or start, said crazy bullshit.

So you went to find Alfred, and after finding him in the kitchen you asked to be taken to a mall or shopping center. Alfred, odded out by your request, asked why.

"I just want to go out, is that such a crime?" you reply, "I see… But sadly I can not take you, due to how busy I am." He says tiredly.

"But you always have time for everyone els- You know what it's cool"

"Young master-"

"It's cool"

Alfred could only sigh and turn back to his duties. Back in your room you think of asking someone else but it was hard, you couldn't just ask the main batfam because they might turn yandere.

You think harder and you narrow it down to Duke! In most batfam fics of this nature, the authors tend to leave out Duke or make Duke the only chill one, if he's even in the fic to begin with. So you look for Duke, thankfully it didn't take long to find him on the living room sofa just chilling.

So you go up to him thinking about asking him if he can take you to the mall. But before you could ask, he tilts his head to look up at you "Hey Dick!- Oh uh, hi 'name', whatcha need?" Duke asked surprised and slightly confused,

"Can you take me to the mall, Alfred won't take me. And I don't want to go alone" You tell him.

"Umm.. Yeah sure, but why? Don't you have your driver's license? And why don't you want to go alone? "

"I don't have a driver's license and I don't like being alone" You tell him, "Oh okay then just give me a moment to get ready and then we can go, is that okay?" He tells you as he gets up from the sofa

"Yeah that's cool, I need to get ready too anyways" you say as you walk out of the living room to go to your room.

Midway to your room you bump into Dick, right after Duke accidentally called you Dick? Also why do their names kinda rhyme? Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, Dick taps you on your shoulder.

"You good?" Dick asks

"Oh-Yeah I'm good"

"Okay…" Jesus Christ why is Dick so awkward around you? "Uh okay then, bye.." Is all you could say as you walk to your room.

In your room, you decided to take a quick shower. While taking a shower you could only think about your interaction with Dick because there's no way in hell he's not going to become a yandere after that interaction, or maybe your just overthinking again. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you realize you finished your shower.

Hopping out the shower you take a good look at yourself, your face is the same but not really there's subtle differences, your skin is clear, your body is perfect- The exact way you'd dream of having. This body isn't yours and you know that.

You picked an outfit that you liked and got dressed. Afterwards you walked out of your room and went down to the foyer. In front of the doors stood Duke in a plain t, boot cut jeans, and a red zip up hoodie.

"'Name'! Took you a minute" Duke says teasingly. "Yeah, probably because I had a weird bump in with Dick" You say in reply.

"Really?" Duke asks.

"Yeah, it was like really awkward"

"If you want I can talk to him" Duke tells you.

"Nah, it's cool" you say as you open the door and walk out.

Tag list: @eclipse-msoul @itsberrydreemurstuff @trashlanternfish360 @universalrainbow @jellyedkazoo @shycreatorreview @hai-there-how-are-you

[eveningcherryblossoms]

It's A Beta Life, Not A Better Life | Part 10

A platonic yandere Batfam x neglected beta reader story

In England, there were five noble ranks generally addressed as My Lord or Your Lordship. The one exception was the highest-ranking of the nobles, addressed as Your Grace–the duke.

Hence why that was your go-to nickname for Duke Thomas.

"Your Grace?" You blurted out without thinking, only feeling the embarrassment belatedly. Gods, how long had it been since you two interacted? More than two years, almost three. The guy had probably forgotten who you were by now.

"Hi, Reader!" Duke grinned and, okay, so he still remembered you. That was...

That was nice.

You couldn't help yourself smiling back.

"Long time no see," you replied. You wanted to add something else, but what? Explain what you were doing? Ask what he was doing? Or–

"Totally, man! It's been literally years since you all but left. I didn't even get the chance to thank you for what you've done for me, you jerk!"

Or Duke could be the one to bring that topic up. Jokingly, you rolled your eyes and leaned against a wall, pretending to blow smoke while holding an imaginary cigarette.

"Heh, literally years you said... And you're still hung up on such a silly little thing? I didn't take you to be so sentimental, Your Grace."

"Oh my God," Duke tried exasperatedly rolling his own eyes, but ended up snorting instead before he slid off the higher roof and landed next to you. He gestured with his forefinger, mock-firmly. "Do not try downplaying your heroic deed, Reader. It cost you your education!"

This time, your eye roll was more genuine. "I still attend school, Your Grace. Park Row High, to be precise."

"No way?" Duke goggled.

"Yes way."

Wh– That's– I thought you went to study abroad like them! Seriously?!"

"Wow, so you want me out of Gotham, huh? I see how it is."

"No no no no!" Duke waved his hands so wildly he nearly took a tumble off the roof, had you not caught the back of his shirt in time. He pressed his back against the wall and possibly basked in yay I didn't get fatally injured from smashing into concrete for a second before hastily continuing, "I– it wasn't supposed to happen like that, man. You... You saved me. Hell, you basically saved all of us betas then, but it shouldn't have been... a sacrifice."

You were already grinning while talking to Duke, but the grin softened into a smile hearing what Duke said.

Yeah, remember when you mentioned attending the public school of dubious accreditation Park Row High in Crime Alley, after initially attending fancy-schmancy Gotham Academy? It was due to Duke here.

Specifically, it was due to you defending Duke–a scholarship student and then-newly presented as a beta–against a fucked-up combo of bullying and courting from a certain pack.

Packs did not always equate to families. Most people had their original natal packs that they were born and raised in as pups, then juvenile packs they made shortly after presenting along with seeking dens and nests out of the original packs. Later on they might either bring their mates into the original ones, join said mates' own original packs, set up their own packs... Many possibilities.

Juvenile packs were not unlike dating, in the sense that they were more or less accepted but not treated as seriously as adult ones. Still they were acknowledged as packs and expected to act as such unless they disbanded. In regards to courting a beta, naturally a juvenile pack ought to conform to the norm–at the very least, they should not bully the beta.

That was what that pack was doing to Duke, but in pristine, sparkling Gotham Academy–where each closet housed a skeleton and interactions with each other were a game of chess–not even the most uptight teacher dared interfere due to that pack's pack alpha. Everyone turned a blind eye and a deaf ear or else muttered how the beta kid should stop acting coy and submit already, this is getting uncomfortable to watch. No one stood up for Duke.

...except for you.

You didn't even plan to do so. To misquote Julius Caesar's veni, vidi, vici–you came, you saw, and before you realized it, you were already standing in front of Duke, that sorry excuse of an alpha on the floor after you broke his nose with one hit.

Both you and that alpha were summoned to the principal's office then. Any other student in your situation would've been the only one in trouble, but for once being Bruce's child didn't only bring you pain. With the Wayne name and fortune and your mother's lawyer backing you up? You 'most graciously' consented to leave Gotham Academy in exchange for that bastard of an alpha and his pack being expelled, and to spend the remaining weeks until finals under suspension in exchange for better rules to protect the beta students and scholarship holders.

You could've stayed at the academy if you'd only consented to make generous donation, but why would you want to stay there after witnessing all that?

You stayed at the manor and studied quietly on your own while trying not to think how no one in the Wayne pack noticed you weren't attending school, would they even notice it if you suddenly died in this very nursery wing? You came back in time to take the finals, graduated, then enrolled yourself at Park Row High. That was that.

The ludicrous thing was, at the time, you and Duke weren't even close friends. Oh, you were friends already, yes–you chatted with him on casual topics, sometimes sat with him at lunch, partnered with him for group projects without reluctance. You did nickname him Your Grace. Still, you weren't all that close with him–or, for that matter, anybody else.

That Duke regarded you like this... Well. One part of you said it was reasonable, you did do a good thing if not truly a 'heroic deed' as Duke called it. Another, and significantly larger, part of you was as gooey as a s'more from the feels.

"Thank you, Duke. I'm fine though."

Duke opened his mouth likely to accuse you of lying, but you smoothly cut him off.

"So you've been all right? What about the other students?"

"At GA?" Duke made a face and shrugged. "Still more annoying than the imperial Chinese court, but what with the Wayne name and all it's really not as bad as back then. Many of us still take to having our phones always ready to record, since the school won't take our complaints regarding harassment and stuff without proof, but... Yeah. So how about you?"

In retrospect, you should have expected him to turn the question back at you.

"It's fine," you emphasized. "No one bullies me. I don't bully anyone. My grades are straight Bs. I don't commit any acts of delinquency, not even smoke or drive without a license. I stay hydrated, eat balanced meals, shower daily, and sleep at least seven hours every night, often eight. Other questions?"

"Yeah, how's your family?"

"Another question?"

"...have you presented and, if so, as what?"

"...another question."

"..."

"..."

Duke stared at you. You directed your stare at the sky above. Cloudy as usual. Oh, a bird flying by!

"Reader," Duke said softly, gently. "Is everything all right?"

It took you everything not to wince or squirm in discomfort. Duke... Duke didn't not know about your relationship–the lack thereof, to be precise–with the Waynes. Duke was a beta, just like you. Could you, should you tell him? When for every person who knew was a potential hole in the ship meant to carry you to safety, did you dare risk it all just because he was another beta technically indebted to you?

Just because you were lonely being a beta by yourself?

Hesitantly, you began, "Actually, I'm..."

Exactly six months since your birthday, Bruce was personally going through his civilian phone–the 'Brucie' one, usually held by a PR employee that had been carefully vetted three times over. This should have been something he did more frequently, lest he made a mistake that couldn't be brushed off as Brucie being Brucie. So many things continually happened after one another, though, that it was only today after literal years Bruce could do this.

He was scrolling through past notifications on the calendar app when his attention was seized by one particular notification.

The notification of your sixteenth birthday.

Right, Bruce recalled with mingled surprise and slight guilt. You were already an alpha, it should not be a surprise to think of you as aged sixteen, right?

Then Bruce frowned, suddenly a little disturbed. You were–you were pack, of course, weren't you? Bruce was so busy that no matter how much he tried he could not be there for all his children all the time, but. But surely some of them had seen to your presenting? Birthday celebration? First pack scenting? Bruce felt a pang in his heart at the realization that he hadn't been there for any of that, for you.

But surely, after seeing to those milestones of yours, Bruce's other children would've reported it to him? Would've been angry at him for missing it, as they always did for each other? Then how come they didn't do it this time? Did Bruce just forget it?

No, he didn't.

The pang in Bruce's heart turned to heavy stone. Hadn't he claimed you as pack?

For quite some time Bruce just stared at the notification. Distantly, he knew that the PR employee would've made a heartwarming post on Brucie's social media congratulating you for turning sixteen, perhaps hinting that there would be a private celebration since you wanted no party. Just as distantly, he recalled impatiently ordering the newly chosen PR employee to do that in the midst of a high-stake mission against some rogue.

Was it since then that the PR employee looked coldly at him? Bruce remembered the person being significantly more warm and enthusiastic their first meeting. Bruce genuinely assumed it was exasperation from having to manage Brucie, but could it be...?

Slowly, he put down the phone and took out his other phone–the one he used to keep in contact with his pack members and real friends. Finally, he typed a message.

Pack meeting at the manor today at 4. About Reader.

A/N: *evil dramatic music playing*

This is reaaally not all that important... But the whole time reader and Duke chatted? Picture there being a traditional Chinese roof that has like another wall THEN another roof on top. Reader was on the lower roof so they could lean on the wall and Duke on the higher one before he slid down to be next to reader

Also!!! To the anon who asked me if the girls and Duke would appear, sorry about that 🙏 In my defense, it wasn't a full lie. Duke is the new character :) *shot*

Don't be shy to send replies and asks, guys!! Those are what fuel me!!

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

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Yandere Platonic Fae Parents

This is in older times where parents cared little for their children and would willingly sell them if they were poor. It is yandere so be prepared to be disturbed as fae don't understand human misery.

CW: abuse (not by the fae parents), trickery, infertility, the couple look down on you slightly (because you're their fragile human), not fully fleshed out, trauma, honestly scarier than most of my romantic ones

Background

Celden and Lilinasmin are a powerful fae couple being nobles in the Seelie court. Married to tie the houses together but fell in love over time. However, Lilinasmin is unable to get pregnant despite attempting to have a child of their own. Distraught, Celden wanted to make his wife happy so he set out in search of a suitable child.

First Meeting:

Lilinasmin will be the first one to find you as she likes walking in a village near the portal to the Fae Realm. Seeing the smiling children does cause an ache in her heart that hasn't disappeared in quite some time.

What she didn't expect is to meet the most endearingly rambunctious human. She meets you after you bump into her running from the local baker, red in the face with anger.

"This is the last time a dirty bastard child like you will steal from me!" The burly man feels a crushing grip grab his hairy arm to block his swing. The burning look in the tall and lithe woman frightens him. "You will do no such thing, take your payment and leave." Lilinasmin hands a heavy pouch of human coin to the baker before releasing him. The man runs off with his tail tucked between his legs.

The fae doesn't particularly mind the crime you committed as she is more concerned with how many bruises covered your small little arms and legs. Especially the angry red ring around your neck. "Goodness child what happened to you?" Compelling you was easy as you cry and hold onto her. "I don't want to go back." Lilinasmin feels a spark of maternal instinct as you cling to her legs tightly.

"Oh sweetling, I'll never let you go."

Lilinasmin comes back to the child as she promised, bringing treats and trinket for the grateful mortal. Foolish human, gifts from the fae never come free. The woman smiles affectionately at your gullible nature, good thing she didn't want to hurt you. No, no, she would love you like any good mother should.

The elegant woman hums a childish tune as she clears the dust from the abandoned nursery. After all the centuries of pain and waiting she would finally be a mother. After all a baby was coming, her baby. Sweet (Y/N).

Celden hears his beautiful wife gush about the child she met in the village, and chuckles. If you make his wife so happy he'll gladly kidnap you. All for his wife's smile and laughter.

Celden tracks down the child of his beloved's description to a ramshackle hut with a door hangs on its last hinges. How could a child live in such a run down place. A shrill scream hits the poor fae's sensitive ears as a woman drags a screaming child out of the house. Celden hides himself from sight and watches from afar.

How brutish humans were to their own offspring, as the woman took a switch and beat the crying child black and blue. The child with (e/c) eyes and (h/c) (hair texture) hair. That was his wife's child. His disdain for the mortal woman grew at the sight of his wife's pride and joy in pain.

Unable to reveal himself he watched as the woman stormed back into the house. You lay sobbing as fresh mark begin bleeding from the switch. Celden decides to ease your pain to gain your trust. The fair man leans over your broken form and craddles you towards his chest.

Chanting in ancient tongues the fresh wounds disappear like they never existed in the first place. You stare blearily at the man shaking with fear. Celden chuckles as he plays with your hair. "No need to cry dear robin, I've got you now." You relax at the gentle cold touch, much to the delight of the male fae. His beloved was right, never had he seen such a pure and innocent babe. The soft rise and fall of your chest and peaceful expression steeled the man's resolve. Celden would take you far from this all into his manor with him and his wife.

How they get you:

The couple disguise themselves as human nobles and bring an entourage with them. Quite the spectacle to your poverty stricken family. The younger siblings rush out to see who the mysterious guests may be. Liliinasmin and Celden stare with cold indifference at the small humans. No one could compare to their darling ladybug. A rotund man and his hideous yellow toothed wife approach with greed in their eyes.

Fae believe in fair exchanges no matter how disgusting the person may be. Celden shows the hefty bag of fine jewels to which the couple salivate at. "You shall have not a single coin until we have a child. The ogre of a man laughs flashing a wide smile "You can have all of them if you want, good riddance I say." Lilinasmin shows a sharp neatly manicured nail pointing towards a child struggling under the weight of a large wooden bucket filled with water. "We shall take that one."

You scream in fear as two armed guards grab your tiny frame. Attempting to run to hide behind your parents who shove you in disgust. Clawing the dirt you beg your parents to not send you away, that you'll be good. However your parents and the rest of the brood turn their back on your desperate cries. Fat tears rolling down your sunken cheeks as two tall ethereal strangers coo at your distress. Celden pets your head while Lilinasmin threatens the guards if a single scratch marred your flesh.

Your desperate cries muffled by the large fir trees of the Ominous Forest. The carriage shaking with each stone the wheels encounter, you lay motionless from fear. The woman sings a lullaby while you lay against the man's firm chest. Tired from the stress and fear you fall into a deep sleep.

How You are Treated:

Lilinasmin and Celden treat you almost like an amusing pet rather than a child at times. Baby talking when you beg to be taken home while handing you your favorite dessert. You don't want for anything but their affection is smothering.

Not allowed to leave the manor without one or both by your side. You are apart of a family so act like it. Will chuckle and gently guide you away as you beg another fae to help you return home. Our child has such the big imagination don't they?

Friends are basically non existent as the ones you have are servants and their children who are under your "parents" control. Complain too much and they might be taken from you too.

You are going to be forced to turn into a fae, forever stuck in the body of a child. Perpetually forced to play the role of an adoring baby, their baby. Aging leads to romantic interests or other interests outside of the family, and nothing will take you away from them.

The transformation is painful, you scream as your body convulses in pain. Your "mother" hushes you while stroking your hair while your "father" kisses away your tears. It'll be over soon dear, just hold on a bit longer.

Isn't it what you wanted? A loving family who will never leave you.

Always and forever

[thewickedweiner]

Hello Yandere Batman community, I have some ideas

While I am no writer, I am person with ideas that I want to share, use these if you wish, just tag me so I can see it :]

Au where Jason Todd decides to haunt his best friend(aka the reader in this scenario), who's trying not to freak out and draw suspicion(how does one explain they're haunted by their best friend, who happens to be the dead Robin), imagine at some point there's a time skip where Jason randomly vanishes because his bitch ass was being brought back to life-

Neglected!Reader au where they become a Game show host, specifically like Ruff Ruffman, just imagine it, just imagine it: one or more of the Batfam watching TV, only to see the opening of this new Game show and who do they find staring, FUCKING READER-(Who's probably using a stage name or something, oooo maybe they have a whole tv host disguise to hide their identity-)

[fluff-n-cookies]

hello! hope you’re having a great day! I was just wondering if you could write something short about how MHA characters of your choosing (but pls include todoroki shoto and bakugo katsuki) finding the reader wearing an oodie? It’s like a super fluffy hoodie that’s great for the winter! Thank you so much!

Yeah Sure! and thank you for the kind words.

CW: just fluff mainly, perhaps some swear words here and there. FEM Reader in mind, but any gender could work for this one.

Kastuki Bakugou

He's very stingy about it, he says that it makes you look like a walking blanket monster.

he also hates how you don't come to him for warmth anymore, instead going to that damn hoodie.

though, he will admit (in his head) that you DO look very cute.

He's secretly planning on getting you an Oodie with his hero logo on it, only the best for you.

but for the time being he'll settle for "misplacing" hiding it so that you'll have to cuddle up to him instead if you're cold.

Shoto Todoroki

he blinks in half confusion, half wonder, the first time he sees you in it.

He doesn't quite understand the purpose of it, I mean, if you're cold, why not turn up the thermostat or curl up with a blanket.

but who is he to judge you for you preferances?

again, like bakugou, he's a little upset that you wouldn't come curl up to his warm side when you're cold.

and while you're not looking, he'll actually try it on to see if it's really that comfortable, spoiler alert, it is, he wants one of his own now.

Izuku Midoriya

he thinks you look adorable in it!

has to resist squishing your cheeks and cooing at you 24/7.

if you start wearing it a little too much though, say, when it's supposed to be cuddle time, and say anythign alogn the lines of "No, I can't, it'll be too hot if I cuddle with you and the Oodie, I'll heat up!"

then suddenly that Oodie's his sworn enemy.

purposely trunks up the AC so you don't have to get out of your Oodie if you wanna cuddle.

Tenya Iida

again, a man that thinks you look cute in it.

actually, I feel like he'd be the one to buy it for you.

I mean, he's a very attentive person, so if he notices you have a penchant for cute and comfy things (think plush house slippers, big thick blankets, plushies) then'd he'd probably buy it for you.

not the type to really get jealous over it though like bakugou and izuku.

if anything, he'll get one of his own like shoto.

Ochako Uraraka

she definitely has one!

I can imagine that you can her bought 2 matching ones so that you could match during your at home hangouts like movie nights.

she'd also be the type to cozy up in them during winter, she probably has seasonal variantions actually.

not much to say about this gal, she's just very happy and very cozy, and she's happy that you are too.

Ejiro Kirishima

He's arguably the one that that's most happy about it!

I can imagine that he has a tendency to accidentally activate his quirk around you because he's just that excited to see you, and of course that could lead to some problems.

particualarly during hugs or while cuddling.

so he's very happy that he can finally hug you and not hurt you if he activates his quirk, the oddie'll soften his rough edges and keep you safe.

he also thinks you look very cute!

Hitoshi Shinsou

please, that's HIS Oodie.

I can imagine that he already had a bunch before you came along,

I mean, tell me that that man doesn't have a closet full of blankets and comfy pajamas, that's right, you can't.

though, he doesn't really mind, just tell him before you snag one for yourself.

definately another person to buy you your own if you look at him with that cute look on your face. (you aren't actually making a face, you just look adorable to him 24/7)

Neito Monoma

probably the meanst about it.

says you look homeless, that you have no class, blah blah blah.

in reality, he's just upset whenever you play attention to anything that ISN'T him.

he's the type to throw it away or hide ti when you arne't look.

but at the same time, he'd probably buy you another one as a gift, but it HAS to have either 1. his face, or 2. his hero logo