#the bad stuff and the sad stuff are all there all at once that's the point that's the point

[hearts4mica]

I can’t fix you

Yandere Batfam! x Neglected Reader

Masterlist

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“How can a person lose their self control?”

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Request!: Hello friend! May I request neglected reader x batman except they break and become the next Joker?

Let's say that Jason killed the original, but given the neglect and outright hatred put onto reader (you can expand on this however you wish!), they run away from the manor without anyone noticing it.

They stumble upon an old warehouse where he stored the Joker toxin, except this version of it was meant to be used on Halloween (as another statement from Joker) and was so incredibly strong that, combined with all of that anger and grief in their heart, reader goes insane and begins to laugh... a lot. Since it was still a very bad hazard to leave out, Batman tasks Nightwing (and a reluctant Hood) to enter the warehouse a few days later, only to find that there are signs that point to Joker being back and having collected a lot of henchmen and a lot of toxin, planning something. So when these two go to confront who they think is Joker, they see reader instead, with the same bloody, scarred smile and hollow eyes.Queue a battle (that reader narrowly loses, taunting both of them with hurtful words that they can't even retort to), and now batfam is trying their hardest to bring the old reader back, except they don't even know what they were like, truly. The only one that did was Alfred, but not enough to know if their rehabilitation is working.

Meanwhile, Batman interrogates reader and the conversation heads south where they go "You never thought of me, Bat. I was invisible, hated and never once given an ounce of attention. I never knew if you loved me. You loved your villains far more... so will you, now? Now that I am like him? Am I finally worthy of your attention?" they laugh, even harder at the horror in his eyes, the grief in his voice while he denies it, and all that the Asylum can hear are spine-chilling giggles and the words of a broken man who's too late to save his one and only normal kid.

Also can I be called 🍌 anon? :D

(Hello Anon! I have no idea why it wouldn’t let me answer your request so i just copied and pasted it here! Here’s your story!)

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Ever since you said no the chance if becoming a hero like them you felt ignored? Like they were disappointed in you.

You were just normal in their eyes. Your family didn’t care about you.. they never did so as soon as you turned 18 you ran away and no one noticed. You’re sure they didn’t even remember or cared about your existence.

You stole some money from Bruce to rent yourself a department in a not so bad place in Gotham but ended up getting scammed so all your money went to waste and now you were homeless.

While laying down on a bench you debated about going back to the Wayne Manor and live a sad life there again but you couldn’t! Your ego wouldn’t let you.

So without any hope left you got up and started walking to an abandoned warehouse. Maybe there’s stuff you can take from there and sell? It’s not stealing if it’s abandoned. So you decided to go in.

While exploring the place you found a so called “Joker Toxin” it was probably a fake one but his fans would pay anything for this. You grabbed the small glass but it was slippery because it was stored in a freezer and it feel to the floor breaking the glass and the liquid fell to the floor.

“Aw shit.” Well it was fake after all so you didn’t need to worry right?-

The moment you inhaled that toxin you started grinning your eyes widened open and your eyes they became red as if you were intoxicated. You feel onto the floor in pain it hurts so bad but you can’t help but- feel happy?

Ha, ha ha HA HA HA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHHA!!!

You can’t stop no matter how much you cover your mouth trying to quiet down not wanting to attract unwanted attention it seems impossible to you. It feels like someone’s tickling you. You can’t stop.

You pass out a few hours later from exhaustion

When you wake up it feels like something has changed with you. You want revenge you need it.

Now you had to set a trap to kill two birds with a stone.

Comissioner Gordon had notified Batfam about some weird noises coming from an abandoned warehouse that citizens had told him about so he sent Nightwing and Red hood.

He told them to be careful since the Joker might be back because of some signs and to notify him immediately if it was the case.

He knew Dick and Jason weren’t children anymore but be still couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong and it felt wrong to send his children to investigate this. He was trying to become a better fatjer for all his children afterall.

Now Nightwing and Redhood were outside the warehouse. You we’re watching them through a small window getting ready for your grand entrance.

The went in and everything seemed fine. Until you appeared instead of the Joker.

“Hello there!” You say as you step out from the shadows.

They both freeze for a second.

“What? The bat ate your tongue?!”

“Name?-“ Dick says surprised that his- sibling? Was here. Weren’t you 8 years old? You were when he- last saw you?…

“Well yeah but no! I’m now the Joker! I’m his greatest succesor!” Your smile was creepy. It went from ear to ear and it was painted with red lipstick. You had dyed your hair green (and failed awkwardly-) so now it was just black and looked green fungy.

“What the heck is wrong with you?! You know how much harm you’ve been causing? Are you stupid?!” Red hood says.

“Let’s both calm dowwn! [name] come back home! We miss you-“

“Oh stop being a fucking hypocrite Dick! No one even noticed i was gone until now! No way in heck i’m going back to that place!” You hold up a gun.

“Oh so that’s how we’re playing?” Redhood takes out his gun.

“Let’s dance.” You smirk as you shoot your gun towards them.

You end up loosing and they drag you back to the manor. You insulted them in every language you knew.

Now back in the manor you got tied up and Batman was infront of you.

“What a nice family reunion isn’t that right Bats?” You tell him taunting him.

“[name] don’t call me that. I’m you father-“

“HAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA since when Batsy?! When did you ever parent me? When was the last time we had a real conversation?! And don’t call me [name]! I’m the joker now!”

“I-“ for the first time to you Bruce Wayne your ‘father’ had looked at you. Stared at you regretfully.

“When was the last time you thought of me? Was i not worthy of your attention like them?! Is it because i didn’t want to become a hero like you? Are you jeaulous cause i picked a normal life?!”

“I was just busy [name]” his face was full of regret. But it was too late.

“But you were never busy for your villians right?! Now that i became a villian it’s the first time in years that you’ve payed attention to me!” Your smile started fading you’ve couldn’t look weak infront of him! Never again.

“We can change that! How about you quit this nonsense you’ve got going on? We can start this over again.” His child. You were his child. He lost you once. He’ll make up for this wether you want to or not.

Damian watching in the background “This psycho needs therapy.” He mutters to himself and leaves the Batcave.

Now you were forever trapped in this place. Your family was not stopping until you became what you once were.

Honestly they didn’t even know you. They just molded you into what they ideally thought you were.

Your makeup was wiped off. Your clothes changed. Your hair well they tried to save it but since the dye ruined it it had been chopped off horribly.

Daily your ‘doctor’ (Alfred) prescribed you sedatives to keep you in line. If you misbehaved you got a dosis. In the morning a dosis, at night another one.

They told you it was for your own good. They were helping you. You couldn’t harm yourself anymore!

Now everyday felt like on autopilot. You were a zombie in your own body. Your mind was foggy.

And they’ll keep doing this until you become the perfect Wayne they imagined you once were.

“Ha! Joker? What a stupid idea [name]! You never became the Joker! Pftt! Babybird we would never neglect you! You were always a part of us!”

Those small lies. Daily. While being weak. You started believing them.

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Thanks for reading!

My masterlist!

Requests are open!

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[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Hii I was wondering if you could write like eyeless jack x reader who like cries about everything because they find things really sad like out of the blue the reader will start crying about the fact that Jack will die one day? 🫶🏻😊

Summary: Eyeless jack x Sensitive!Reader who cries at the thought of him dying

Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst

Warnings: Mentions of death, creepypasta things

Credits: Eyeless Jack- Creepypasta, Blue Heart Rate Monitor divider- bernardsbendystraws on tumblr, Meat divider- bernardsbendystraws on tumblr

A/n: This is so me LOLLL i cried when i had to give up my robot baby after my weekend was up for my child development class

Thank you so much for requesting!!

It's a known fact that you are rather sensitive. Especially to your boyfriend, Jack. You cry to him about a lot of things. About how good your day was, about how you accidentally squished a bug, about a particularly good movie, the list goes on. It warms his heart that you are so comfortable around him to show such a vulnerable side of yourself, as common of an occurrence as it may be. Every time he reassures you that its ok to cry, and that you just feel deeper than most other people, which isn't a bad thing! He likes you much better as a sensitive person than he would have if you were more stoic. Because of this, he has plenty of water bottles for you in his room, as well as some comfort items such as an old hoodie of his, your favorite blanket, etc.

This time however, was a little bit different. You came into his office where he was cleaning his tools, and hugged him from behind tightly. He could tell by your sniffles (and the wet spots forming on his back) that you were crying. He put his stuff down and turned around to face you, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your head. "What's wrong, love? Another bug?" You shook your head and let out a small hiccup. "Did Jeff say something?" You shook your head again and looked up at him. "It's just....I got thinking about you and how much I love you..." He let out an adoring sigh and cupped your cheek, rubbing a tear away "I love you too, darling-" You shook your head again and cut him off "But after I thought about that, I thought about growing old with you..." You let out a sob "And then I realized that someday you're gonna die!" You'd barely managed to get the sentence out before another round of crying came about.

Jack was shocked, he hadn't even pondered the idea of his death. He'd never been scared of death, and he'd live a lot longer than you anyways so why were you so worried? He cradled your head into his chest and let out a small laugh "Darling, you know I will live for hundreds of years, right?" You nodded. "And you know that you will be long gone by the time I die, right?" You nodded and looked up at him again. "But you'll be so lonely!! I won't be able to sit with you, or tell you how much I love you!" You buried your face into his neck. "It's just so sad!!"

"Oh, love..." he mumbles as he begins to rub your head again. "You don't need to be worried, I'll come visit you at your grave everyday! And as long as you're useful to Slender, chances are he'll keep you living until you aren't useful..." He rambled on until you had long stopped crying, feeling a little bit better about it all. It took him a moment to realize you'd stopped crying but once he did, he looked down at you and asked "Do you feel better?" You looked down and nodded, sniffling once more. He kissed you on your forehead, and then the tip of your nose. "Don't work yourself up over such things, no matter what happens, we'll figure it out"

[extravagantliar]

Grief is a complicated word with a complicated process. It would be rational to feel the breaking waves of anger or sadness crest over one and then place the emotion away; it would be like a fine suit - only worn for the times needed and hung away for the rest of the time. Of course, nothing is straightforward or simple; nothing can simply be hung up and placed in a wardrobe, to be remembered and gawked at but never taken down again. Varric's words would have merit if this had been the case, but he weighs Sidri's words, his hand still in hers at the weight of it all settles.

Orlais had been a disaster, unmitigated and horrific, but now he has a fonder outlook on those days of heartbreak; maybe that same golden light will eke in over his sixteen days for Sidria. He hopes — not in prayer but in comfort — that one day there will be peace, just like the peace with Kirkwall.

That had taken time, something he still grapples with, another Tethras exile, another circular march of leaving something beloved behind, but the path had given him a wave of zinnia over a green and golden moor; it had given him a life and a new outlook around it when the world had been one undoing after another, a similar path to the one routed inside his head, the one Varric sees bleeding behind his eyes and he can't linger in that bullshit.

As that is, what it is — it is bullshit.

The idea of one man carrying the weight of the world has long left his body. He's given vows to this woman that it would always be better together and that it would always be easier to lift the brick and mortar with additional hands.

"I can trade you that, Sid," Varric admits, lingering on those words before he carries on, "Square deal, always square enough for me." It sounds like shit, as he would have rolled his eyes at such a loose trade, but it matters not. This is the deal he wants, the place he needs to be. It will always be this woman - overcrowded docks, snowflakes in her hair, using a dull knife to peel potatoes, and he would choose her again and again.

"Do one extra thing for me." Once upon a time, before his name was Sidri's, before that love heart was carved out with tender care, after he had realised he was far too deep with too many people. "We give it up if it's all the same to you - I am done with all this...shit, let's both be done." It's stated with a deep laugh, age threading through it, but his mind, summoning a memory of a warm Keep as she tucked her head against his shoulder and Varric had carried her away from that world, now he cannot do that - at least physically, so he does it with words in the way that it matters.

Then there are the girls, just a small carving of his heart, a beating mess that he has given more away than he has, and if it is the same passionate display he had as a boy, he knows he's in for it all. "That's what scares me; she's too much like me. We need less of that in the world." That will earn him some ire, and he knows this, and he says it regardless. It's stated with a laugh, and he presses a kiss to her hair, nearly messy, tucked against him, and he lingers, thankful for at least these motions, this time given. "Illy just wants to hear the good stuff, the romance, the swordfights...stuff like that."

There was a party years ago where he carried her back to bed when she had yawned one too many times against his shoulder. Varric doubts he can do it now, not with a bad shoulder and a bad knee, but he presses another kiss to the crown of her head, another moment never guaranteed — yet they had fought for every moment forward. "I hear the water is clear, I hear the streets are wide and theatre - it won't be like Kirkwall mocking me." Like a tale wide over Lowtown that even he had laughed at, "We'll go. A whole month, maybe more, who knows." It's another plan made; it doesn't matter if it doesn't manifest just yet, it didn't — as he intended her to marry her on those diamond beaches, but something else had taken its place, and while the pain had been vast, nearly cavernous, he still thinks of the man behind his eyes and is thankful when he laughs at Sidri fading against him.

"We can go to bed." Well. Her bed - really, Varric's had been taken by an elf...thank you, Asha. "It's late, even for you."

𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒, 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐄 wrests her back to herself, pulls her away from the ledge that overlooks the dark chasm of regret. she also hears something else in his voice, intermingled with that tenderness she has once strived to convince herself was something else because surely it could not be what she wished it to be, and her heart aches to recognize it after a moment. it's his own pain, his own regret, and while that flurry of apologies has abated for now sidri knows the grief underlying it has hardly rescinded.

they both need to heal, she is reminded, but they have both healed before.

those first weeks in kirkwall had been difficult. aside from the havoc both the mark and its absence had wreaked upon her body, everyday tasks had suddenly become all but impossible. once easy buttons and laces were now puzzles, braids she'd have woven into a little girl's hair with her eyes shut now grew tangled beneath her fingers. the world itself seemed hungry and loud, sharp and cruel, but varric had simply rested his hand over her own in aid when it came time to dress. the agile fingers that had worked a crossbow with infinite precision now moved alongside her own to twist a sea of curls into something akin to order. when the world was too much, his thumb had draw circles against her wrist in time with her breath as it slowed.

the marks left in the wake of kirkwall may never have been visible but she had watched them ache in him with the full force of a wound. that winter had been long and cold, those nights dark compared to the city, their city, but she had sat with him through those quiet hours. she had walked him along the winding path glinting with front when the grief flared. with time, that anger had slowly subsided to welcome spring.

they will heal again, she thinks, and leans into his touch as he tucks hair away from her face.

❝ i know you don't, love. ❞ she reassures gently and nods once. ❝ and i don't want you to think you owe me an apology. i'll give up the anger if you give up the guilt. how does that sound? even if we can't do it for ourselves, we can do for each other. ❞

sidri tucks her head to his good shoulder with a contented yawn and her eyes flutter shut. she wonders if she'll ever take the easy warmth of his skin for granted again. ❝ the kindest thing she'll call you is old, varric. she takes after you when it comes to words so i suspect you'll be welcomed home with a litany of remarks from her. ❞ her brave girl, clever girl. a smile settles onto her lips to think of her and the chaos no doubt wrought by her throughout vivienne's salon. ❝ ilsa will want to hear all about the city and how much you missed her, she'll barely notice the cane. ❞

❝ even by our standards, ❞ sidri hums thoughtfully. ❝ it's a horrid mess, but we'll get through it. we always do, darling. and, you know, i was thinking, ❞ she lifts her head to gauge his reaction with a playful slip of a smile, ❝ we deserve a bit of time to relax, don't you think? after we'll settled back in, of course, but i think we've more than earned it. what if we went to those beaches in antiva you promised me? we'll take asha, too. we'll sit under the sun and you'll complain about the sand and we'll finally have that trip we're a decade overdue for. ❞

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

So so insane about just how well the Dune movies walk the line between making Paul sympathetic and making him...uhh.....everything else.

Because it would be easy to tip it too far in either direction and make him out to be either cartoonishly evil or (excuse the term) woobified -- but I think the key to it is that it's never depicted as being a "but" situation and rather always a "yes, and" situation. Yes, Paul is a very young, very deeply alone person who has lost everything and is under the pressure of thousands of years of genetic engineering and religious propaganda and really never stood a chance against all that, and it's a tragic and heartbreaking thing to witness. That is all true. Also, he's using an oppressed group of people for his own political gain and is about to cause both a horrible environmental disaster and a war that will leave countless people dead, among other very very bad things that you are absolutely not supposed to agree with and root for. This is also true. All those things are equally true, and it WILL make you uncomfortable. And you as the viewer are not supposed to choose a side to fall on, you're fully intended to see all of that at once and walk that fine line with the character, and the chaotic and messy experience of having all those things packed together as truth without it being an either/or situation is absolutely the most accurate way of perceiving him.

[sysig]

I invite you to imagine (Patreon)

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

Didn't expect to do this, but. Excerpt from a longer piece I'm working on from my Curse of Strahd campaign, because I was reading over it while trying to find something to work on in the midst of all of this awful shit and got slapped with some very on the nose feelings. Call it my WIP Wednesday, lol.

“But honestly, who is going to blame me for indulging in a little bit of absurdity right now? This whole situation is mad.” “Is it?” Now Ireena turns to face her, brows furrowed in genuine confusion. “How so?” This, from Ireena, is a real question, and not a sarcastic quip at Wyn's expense, so she takes a breath to quell the sudden scorch of fire in her chest and turns her attention back to her sketch.  “Where would you have me start?” she asks, very lightly. “The night that we spent safe among a full caravan of people on a well-traveled trade road, only to wake up in the middle of unfamiliar woods, alone, with necromantic mists chasing our every step? The haunted manor house so full to the brim with moral transgressions that it tried to eat us one floor at a time, and very nearly succeeded? Or perhaps the fact that less than two hours ago, we were sat down at the table of a woman who claims to see the future and told that, despite our inexperience and our incompetence and the fact that we have not so much as a whit of real skill between us, we are apparently meant to be this land’s saviors?” In truth, savior hadn’t been the word that Madam Eva had used. She had been more delicate, less certain; she had used words like ‘might,’ like ‘maybe.’ But she had still held out beseeching hands across her card-strewn table and told them that they carried hope on their shoulders, that she looked to them for the cure to the curse on Barovia’s stricken land. She had still said that they were what she had been waiting for.  The whole thing had been so absurd that Wyn still feels a little glow of pride when she remembers that she hadn’t laughed. Beside her, Ireena nods, slowly.  “I see,” she says, and she probably does, but Wyn can tell by her expression that she also thinks that Wyn is overreacting. The thought is nearly enough to spin up the grease fire burning in her gut again, almost enough to bait the howling animal — but then Wyn takes another breath, and sighs, and shrugs. “I expect that you’re the only one who does,” she says, smiling like there isn't a part of her that wants to start screaming instead. “But, as near as I can tell, I have two options: I can either wallow in the knowledge that this is our death sentence, and spend a very productive evening being a font of wretched despair and grim portent, or —” She makes a flourishing gesture down to the sketch in her lap. “— I can paint a beard onto the wizard. Considering that I expect to spend no small amount of time on the former, I’ve decided to indulge the latter while I have the energy.”

[moeblob]

Erin, to her crush: You're a dick

Mason, the crush: I won't argue! But to clarify -

[hana-bobo-finch]

erm…..posting about an OC via a rushed shitpost was not on my 2025 bingo card!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂get it??? 😂😂😂because his name is bingo??(GETS SHOT)

these are all things he has done or has attempted to do so consider this the full intro post for that freak for now. he’s still too undercooked to fully introduce but damn I love him

[mjrdm]

.

[bi-panic-at-the-disco]

I like how whenever I watch AstralSpiff or Backseat play a new Poppy Chapter it’s pretty clear what game that they devs had been playing before hand lmao,, Chapter 4 being very clearly referencing to the Resident Evil 4 underground factory insect fights with how it was framed

[hermitcraftx]

just got a dm abt one of my posts and y'all please don't try and show the hermits (or any minecraft youtuber or content creator for that matter) my posts, i'm uncomfortable with it and don't want any of my posts shown to a cc. if they stumble upon it naturally that's unfortunate but i can live with it since i do maintag a lot (something i REALLY need to stop doing tbh i already know i need to make a tagging system just for my blog that wont clog results) but going out of ur way to show a cc is entirely different and something i am not comfortable with.

no hate to the person at all but even if i wasn't a little silly and weird with it sometimes i wouldn't be comfortable with it, i want my blog to be a purely fandom only space with none of the creators involved <3 please respect this

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

brb 🫡

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

I love this scene because even after everything, the first thing Naesala does when he gets into the room is react in panic about Reyson and Leanne being unconscious. In that short moment, he just reacted on the instinct that he's always cared about them, despite how shaky things had gotten with Reyson a few years ago and how he was forced to do the things he did (including with the Laguz Alliance in RD).

If he was thinking logically and had a moment to process the situation, he might've stood back and pretended to care less than he actually did, as is usual for him. In this case he didn't hesitate to react and ran to them as soon as he walked in, because it was a knee jerk reaction.

If he sat back and thought about it, he would've known Tibarn was going to start making threats and trying to pick a fight, but his genuine desires overcame logic for just a second long enough for him fear for Reyson and Leanne. As long as the two of them are alive and well, he can continue putting on that mask and faking his way through it. If there's any chance they're in life threatening danger, he'll change course to make sure they're safe (such as refusing to fight Reyson when he was in service to the Crimean army, even at his own expense).

Since Naesala wasn't aware how badly the herons were being affected by the medallion, he wasn't aware in advance that they were in any danger. He doesn't know what happened here, so he walks in and suddenly sees them unconscious on the floor. For all he knew, it could've been life threatening - hence his instant response that didn't wait for his brain to register that he's supposed to be playing the bad guy. I think the only reason he could calm down and conclude it wasn't is because nobody else was panicking/grieving with the implication of a possible death.

(And fwiw, yes, he did have to technically sell Reyson to Oliver in PoR. If he didn't abide by something the senate wanted, Oliver could just make up some story to Lekain to get him to trigger the Blood Pact. Naesala knew he was being a snake to get the whole thing to happen, but he did technically have to go through with it the moment anyone from the senate wanted something from him)