#yandere bruce wayne imagine
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anxiousnerdwritings · 11 months ago
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Can I request something spicy for YanBatman with his Ex-WifeReader? 🫨
TW: Semi-NSFW, implied breeding kink, mention/implied cockwarming
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(I sincerely hope you like it! It feels like forever since I’ve written something like this, let alone something spicy.)
Entrapment
A talk. That’s all this meeting was suppose to be. Just a simple and civil discussion about the upcoming court proceedings regarding the divorce and what would be happening afterwards regarding your relationship with the family (especially Damian), nothing more. So, how did it end up like this? How could it have possibly strayed so far off track?
~~~~
You weren’t too surprised when you got a call from Bruce. He often went between nonstop blowing up your phone to not reaching out to you for days at a time, you were getting more and more used to it by now. You of course didn’t answer it, your lawyer had advised you not to after your telling them of how Bruce was throughout your entire relationship with him. His tendencies and the way he behaved when it came to you. Your lawyer wasn’t exactly completely believing of it, and that was pretty understandable given some of the things you had divulged to them (if you hadn’t lived and dealt with it yourself you would have had a hard time believing it too) but they decided it was better to be safe than sorry and advised you to not interact with Bruce outside of them. And so you hadn’t and you didn’t plan to either. That was until you listened to the voicemail that he had left behind.
He had an offer. He wanted to meet in person and discuss this whole situation, one on one. He wanted to come to an equal agreement outside of having to go to court. And as much as you hated it it sounded like it might be the better option. There was no pretending that this divorce would go in your favor, there were just too many things going against you. Bruce had the money, he had the means to get the best damn lawyer in Gotham and fight this to the very end. Not to mention that this divorce would be very public in general given just who it involved. And he could very easily get the media on his side, tarnishing your image as a whole. Not that you cared too much for that, you had planned to leave Gotham behind anyway after the divorce was final but the thing that got you the most was the rest of the family.
You adored Alfred. Not only was he simply one hell of a butler but he had been so good to you throughout your marriage to Bruce. Even though you two hadn’t been married that long, Alfred was still very much a support to you and what you went through. He didn’t completely agree with what Bruce did or how he went about things, you were your own person and he tried to remind Bruce of that on many occasions, but there was only so much he could do. And it wasn’t just Alfred you cared about, you also loved all of Bruce’s kids. Once you married Bruce they didn’t just become your family, they were your babies too. And you still wanted to have them in your life and you knew Bruce would hold them over your head no matter which way this divorce went.
Sure, the rest of the family had been involved to some extent with what Bruce was doing in your relationship, especially when it came to keeping you isolated and cooped up in the manor. But as far as you saw it that was all due to Bruce’s influence, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually believe that they would willingly go along with it of their own accord. Or that they even gave Bruce ideas to begin with to keep you by his side and with them as a result. You just couldn’t possibly think of them like that, you just couldn’t. So, it of course scared you at the thought of being completely cut off from the people you had opened your heart to. You still wanted to be there for them, still be a part of their life but just at a safe arm’s length away instead of how it was before.
The more you thought about it, mulling it over and over again in your head, this offer was sounding like the more beneficial thing to do. You did still have love for Bruce of course, you just didn’t want to be in that kind of situation again and you knew the only way to prevent that and keep yourself safe was to step away from him and any form of romantic relationship with him.
~~~~
The day was finally here for the two of you to meet and you couldn’t help the anxiety that washed over you. You never truly knew what Bruce would do, what he was really thinking in the moment. He was unpredictable like that. He could come off oh so charming and inviting, it was scary how easy he could lure you into his trap. And you knew better than anyone what it was like to be caught in that snare. That was what your whole marriage had been with him after all, just one big entrapment.
Even when you were briefly on the phone with him to set up this meeting you couldn’t contain the tremor of nerves you had just hearing his voice again. You really did miss it, you missed him. But this needed to be done. For the both of you. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.
Seeing him face to face again was something else. He looked good, he looked like he was taking care of himself again. That was a far cry from how he was the first few months after you left. He was a mess and it showed. That alone almost had you going back to him just so he’d be alright but you knew what came with him being back to himself and you couldn’t put yourself in that position again. You just had to remind yourself that this was it and it would soon be over for good.
Bruce greets you with open arms, you’re not quick enough to back out of his reach before he’s already enveloped you in his hold. He’s warm, he’s always been so warm. And his hold is tight, longing but not as suffocating as it used to be. And just as you’re beginning to feel yourself unconsciously fall into his warmth just like you used to so many times before, welcoming his touch again, he pulls away. For a split second you want to reach out to him and feel his touch all over again but you remind yourself that this isn’t what this is anymore. It can’t be.
Once the two of you are settled you start off talking small talk and everything seems good, everything seems okay. Bruce asks how you’ve been, if you’re doing alright with everything that’s been going on. He seems caring. He seems like he genuinely wants to know how this has affected you but you remind yourself yet again that this isn’t what you think it is. He then moves on to talking about the family and how they have been holding up through out this process, everyone’s taking it hard. Dealing with it in their own way but it seems Damian is the one who is taking it the hardest. That’s what you had feared. You worried about how Damian was taking all of this, how he was being effected by it. He was such a guarded kid, so closed off. You felt terrible having to put him through this, as well as the others but it’s what needed to be done. Right?
It isn’t until you try to bring up the original topic of discussion, the entire reason for this meeting in the first place, that you see how this wasn’t remotely the meaning of this meeting. You barely caught sight of Bruce’s jaw clenching when the words left your mouth, that was enough insight for you to know that this wasn’t at all what it was meant to be.
It’s obvious that it’s the last thing he wants to do, you can tell. He’d rather talk about anything else other than that. It’s one thing to ask how you’ve been regarding it or talking about how the rest of the family’s been taking it in but he doesn’t want to actually get into it. He’s avoiding it, of course he is. You can’t blame him but this needs to be over with.
“Bruce.” He tenses. It feels like it’s been forever since you said his name, he’s missed hearing it from you. He wants to hear it over and over again, like a mantra. God, the way it hit him when that’s all you could say as he thrusted so deep into you, just his name rolling off your tongue repeatedly. Fuck he missed it. He missed you.
“Remember, we’re meeting here for a reason. I don’t want to take up much more time than we need to. So, could we get to it?” Business. That’s all this was. Bruce hated it. Of all things, this is what brought you out of hiding? This is what opened you up to seeing him once more?
No.
He wouldn’t take that as an excuse.
He just wouldn’t.
“You’re right, (Name). Let’s get to business.”
~~~~
Without a doubt in your mind this was his intention all along. Of course it was. How could you see it any other way?
Bruce was calculating. He proved that more than once since you have known him.
It showed I n how he talked, the words he said dripping off his lips one after another, the sweet nothings he filled your head with.
In how he touched you; the placement of his hands, the way his fingers brushed you, the methodic way they curled deep inside your warmth.
But more importantly he was the most calculated when it came to fucking you. He knew you better than yourself, he spent your whole entire relationship learning and memorizing your body. What you wanted, what you needed. What exactly drove you to the deepest depths of pleasure. He knew it all. And he certainly knew how to use it to his advantage.
Each thrust, deeper than the last, was all so cunningly planned out. The way he grounded his hips into yours, the way he clutched you so close, melding himself into you, opening you up even more to take him completely. Every single move was so irrevocably mapped out.
~~~~
Your warmth. Oh, how much he’s missed it. How much he’s fucking craved feeling it wrapped around, enveloping him whole again, only for him to feel. You have no idea how many times he’s touched his throbbing cock to the thought of it, to the thought of having you sprawled out under him again. You have no fucking idea.
Once he has you right where he wants you, completely lost in the ecstasy of it all, he allows himself to finally give in to his own blinding pleasure.
No more calculating.
No more cunning.
No more being methodic.
No more.
Now it was all solely his mindless self indulgence. His once slow, deep thrusts turned into rapid, savage pounding. His kisses were more aggressive, sloppy. His touch was burning hotter than ever as he gripped and grabbed every piece of you he could.
At this point, Bruce let himself get lost in it. He let himself fall into the deepest, darkest pits of his desires. All he wanted now was to chase that feeling he’s been left without for so long, over and over again.
One after another, he released everything he had deep inside you. Again, and again, and again. All of this; all of his pent up anger, hurt, passion, everything he had bottled up inside throughout this whole shitshow of a situation, he was free to let it all go.
After the haze finally let up, Bruce was left basking in the aftermath. He couldn’t have felt better than ever before. He had you again, he had you here in his arms and it wasn’t a dream this time. You were the real deal and he couldn’t have been happier.
He couldn’t help but look at you,, watching you, taking all of you in again just like the many times he used to before. You were a fucking mess after everything and he absolutely loved it. He did that to you, he made you that way. And he took great pride and pleasure in it. He left you so full, both with himself still inside you (he just couldn’t bring himself to part with your warmth again) and all his cum. This was how he wanted to stay. This was how he wanted to be.
Placing his large hand on your stomach, he caressed it tenderly. There was no way you wouldn’t fall pregnant after this, he had made sure of it with all the times he filled you with his seed. He wanted you pregnant, he wanted you filled to the brim with his baby. He needed to have you tied for life and what better way to ensure that than by bringing a new life into the world together.
You wouldn’t be able to get away from him now. This had been yet another way to entrap you, to keep you in his grasp and Bruce wasn’t going to leave any room for you to wriggle out of his reach again.
“Let’s start anew, (Name). After all, we’re going to have even more of a reason to work things out now.”
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knullanon · 2 years ago
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Since it's mother's day could we have platonic yandere batfam with batmom darling? Just overall headcanons and stuff
ik this was sent in last year but better late then never am I right
warnings: none
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~~~
you're going to get gifts from everyone. everyone. some are more extravagent than others, but they're all very well put together and you could tell that they were meant for you.
personalized clothing, a game you had talked about, if you had looked at something beforehand, you're going to get it.
bruce will get you flowers and will even have breakfast or lunch with you out in the garden. the batkids will give you cards and small gifts before the bigger gifts come out. even alfred will make you special meals, only for you, and will make sure that you're not being overwhelmed by all of the family.
the whole day is really about you. if you don't want to go anywhere, they'll all hang around the house and sit with you. if you do want to go somewhere specific, like a park or a resturant, they are happy to oblidge.
they all have different ways of celebrating with you. this also causes a few issues between the siblings, damian in particular.
however, they know that them arguing won't make you feel better, so they all really try to get along with each other for mothers day. everything is coordinated, there's barely any arguments or problems even within the week before, and they all hang out with you at the same time.
the whole week is centered around you, and they all put in extreme effort to make sure you feel special and appreciated (if you don't already know that). in fact, they will subtlety ask you if you wanted to do anything in particular, and make their plans centered around what you want. if you want it to be a surprise, they will make sure it's something you will be extremely happy with.
if anybody makes you feel less special or says something wrong, they'll take care of it. you probably won't even know they said anything because they're gone as soon as they opened their mouth. if you did happen to hear anything, you'll forget about it immediately with all of the love and attention you're getting from the batfamily.
~~~
I'm so sorry this is a year late but I had it sitting there and I could finish it before mothers day so I did. I hope this is good for u guys bc I was really happy I was able to finish this. I love you guys 💗💗💗
also if I used this gif before no I didn't
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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years ago
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"Despicable" - yan!Bruce Wayne x Reader
A/N: currently reviewing my book to send it out AGAIN because apparently, I can't let go
🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Batman-inspired playlist
SUMMARY: While Seline is Bruce's eyes at 44 Below, he spots someone absolutely showstopping. Unfortunately, you're Joker's girl. Bruce is determined to save you from that despicable criminal.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.2k
[TW: yandere themes, explicit language]
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Part of Bruce was glad he didn't step foot inside 44 Below. Judging from what Seline was showing him, it was nothing more but a relatively glorified dive bar. It seemed as if corruption could be the sweetest fruit if one simply made it look out of reach or in some way special. It was the pinnacle of human pride and greed to always desire the unattainable.
Despite the supposed prestige of the underground club, he could hardly notice anything out of the ordinary when compared to any other bar one could find in Gotham: young women in skimpy clothing and old, rich men who salivated over them. Drugs. Alcohol. Smuggling. Trafficking. The only visible difference was very superficial - their clothes and jewellery were significantly more expensive. Aside from that one easy-to-overlook detail, 44 Below was exquisite in its lack of exceptionalism.
The swarm of people seemed to be unending. Although the lower level was supposed to be more deluxe, more selective, there was about the same amount of people as on the upper level. Seline was walking through crowds of personalities too important or powerful to want their attention on her. Turning her head in all directions possible, she had nearly given herself whiplash when her stare merely glazed over a figure so brilliant they could hardly be perceived as real; an after-image of a fabulous fantasy:
"Wait, turn around. That woman in a green dress by the bar. Who is she?"
"Fuck no, Bruce," she hissed back at him as she continued marching on. "You know a guy who goes by 'Joker'? The psychopathic mass murderer? That's his girl."
"Look at her," he demanded again. "I need time to scan her face. What do you know about her?" It was a generous half-truth: while he did need time to perform scans, he didn't need yours specifically.
Seline let out a heavy sigh. Reluctantly, she directed her eyes towards you - leaning against a bar, drinking an Old Fashioned, and nibbling on honey-coated roasted cashews. Needless to say, you were completely oblivious to the attention you were getting at the moment. If you could have your way, you wouldn't have been there - 44 Below was an over-glorified workplace for you, waiting for someone who might need a little favour they're willing to repay for.
Bruce's thoughts were running rampant but they lacked coherence. There was a strange feeling in his chest - one he couldn't quite name but it was completely overwhelming and it forced his attention to focus on you. His eyes were eating up your image, his insatiable hunger only grew as he stared at you. The longer he admired your aloof demeanour, the more he was unable to find any flaw in your appearance. It seemed like something taken out of a cliche movie: a diamond found among the filth. How could you have ended up with some lunatic?
You were leaning against the bar counter, bored out of your mind as if you were waiting for someone to show up and get you away from that disgusting place you never quite fit into in the first place. He could be that someone... He wanted to be.
"Ever since Joker got locked up, she's taking care of the business. The whole operation went deep underground and now even the unimportant people wear designer clothes."
"How do you know all that?"
"Penguin's her fan." Seline seemed to not have noticed the lack of emotions in his tone. Bruce wasn't very interested in the criminal part of your life - it will all be left in the past soon enough. "Oh, shit, she noticed me."
Bruce's heart jumped in his chest as if there actually was something that could frighten that man or take him by surprise. Staring at the screen, he met your warm gaze. Words became stuck in his throat, completely awestruck, although you weren't even looking at him per se - you didn't even know about his presence. And he realized he knew no greater frustration.
"Hey, Seline, how are things going on?" you asked. The cheerfulness of your voice seemed genuine. "Haven't seen you working 'round here before."
Dear God, how he began yearning the moment he heard your voice. What darkness and bliss would it bring him to hear you speak his name?
"I'm doing some overtime."
To Bruce's utmost pleasure, you leaned towards Seline. Your face was the only thing on his screen and he truly wished it could stay like that.
"The offer still stands," you whispered. Your eyebrows raised slightly and your eyes had that soft gloss over them. "Give me a call and you'll make a better dollar in better circumstances."
"What offer?" Bruce inquired but Seline ignored him.
"Thank you but I'm still not interested. I'm good."
She promptly turned around and began walking away, her eyes shying away from the bullyboys you brought with you. Rumour had it they didn't need much to happily get involved.
"What offer, Seline?" Bruce repeated. He sounded impatient.
"None of your business," she spat out as she entered the bathroom.
His eyes became bloodshot and dry from staring at the computer for so long. He knew not how many hours had passed and, to be frank, did not care. Nirvana was playing in the background but he barely registered the sounds. None of his attention could be diverted from the picture of your face. Bruce knew perfectly well what he had to do, it was the question of how that kept him up until the early hours of the morning.
The obsessive thoughts inside Bruce's head were too loud to let him hear Alfred come in. "Who's that?"
"Someone important," he answered quietly. For a moment he felt angry that someone else was looking at you but he quickly dismissed that thought as he did with most of his emotions.
It was true but not in the way Alfred understood. Perhaps, Bruce himself did not yet understand the nature of your importance. It was as if he was frantically evacuating and kept asking other people what was going on; smoke was burning his eyes but he did not know the source of the fire.
Seeing as Wayne was even less talkative than normally, Alfred silently left him to continue doing whatever it was that he was doing. Sometimes he got tired of nagging at a grown man.
As it was mentioned before, Bruce knew what he had to do - it was a fact, not a thesis that had to be proved. He was going to save you from that animal you lied to yourself you loved. Bruce had a habit of subduing his feelings, therefore he told himself that it was simply his duty to return your independence to you, completely ignoring the overwhelming yearning that burned throughout his body. He made up his mind that he was going to save you from the filth you'd been stained with, no matter whether you wanted it too. Bruce had seen evil and he was convinced he knew what was best for you.
Oh but Cupid could be a truly despicable beast.
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acid-ixx · 5 months ago
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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four
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read until the end for an author's note.
*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.
i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.
why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.
is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.
i don't want to pray anymore.
so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—
i hate you."
"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."
you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.
"alfr-"
a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.
salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.
you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.
"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."
"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"
his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.
you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.
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alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.
it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.
you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.
and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.
it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.
it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.
the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.
you pose secrets that speak of the underground.
he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.
you stared at nothing.
not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.
it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.
what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.
you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.
(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.
he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.
yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.
you were more like batman than you were bruce.
alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.
when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.
the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.
alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.
yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.
the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.
"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.
the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.
yet you do not display pain.
a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.
you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.
the world does not deserve someone like you.
alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.
through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.
even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.
you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.
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another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.
"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.
a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.
the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.
alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.
you could only hear yourself.
"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"
you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.
"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."
it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.
he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.
despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.
you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.
everything hurts, it truly does.
you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.
you at least try to stifle your sobs—
"happy birthday, master (name)."
— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.
you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.
it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.
though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.
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"alfred?"
it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.
"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.
"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"
... (name) wayne was full of surpises.
even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.
you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.
but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.
except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.
when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.
it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.
he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.
alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.
"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"
alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.
"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...
— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."
alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.
you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.
but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.
it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.
it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.
but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.
and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.
alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.
he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.
"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.
"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."
alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.
he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.
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and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.
he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.
in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.
alfred misses you.
does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.
but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.
(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.
and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.
but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.
your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.
you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.
it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.
the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.
after all, your freedom is your doom.
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the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.
it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.
yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.
for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.
even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.
it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.
before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.
bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.
in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.
his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.
that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.
he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.
he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.
"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.
"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.
but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.
bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.
it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.
if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.
he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.
"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.
"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."
huh?
"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"
"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."
... (name)?
ah, his... other child.
alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.
it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.
"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"
alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.
"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.
"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"
to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.
"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."
at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—
but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?
shit, what grade are you in?
why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—
"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"
"roughly six or seven months ago, master."
"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."
"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."
eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.
it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.
his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?
alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.
bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened
the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.
he denies himself of any relief.
"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.
so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.
"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."
if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.
but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.
and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.
bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.
also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!
taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)
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nosyrobin · 14 days ago
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IMAGINE! Bad parenting!reader
Random idea for a yandere!batfam writing that i might do.
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Imagine you, the reader take the place of Ron from bad parenting. People in the apartment you live in have reported domestic abuse in the places. You are dead, but can be seen in night. So imagine the batfam’s reaction to see a kid just smiling. Not knowing anything, just pure of light and curiosity. You call the big bat man “Mr bat!” Running up to him holding a doll that looks like you. They notice the snapped neck, but with how you show no sign of abuse because of your father drinking himself sleep.
They search the place, they see you are unable to live here. Batman already has an adoption certificate ready under his suit as you grab Damian’s hand. Jumping excitedly as you show them around. You made new friends!
While the batfam, made their new obsession on how to take you out of this house. Not knowing you are dead.
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onmyyan · 2 months ago
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hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3
Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?
Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.
A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two
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The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.
A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.
Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.
"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?
A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.
Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."
"..You're not going to try and stop me?"
You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.
"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.
You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.
That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."
You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.
Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.
Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.
Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.
Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.
Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.
And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.
Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.
Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.
There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.
"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.
"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."
"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.
Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.
The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.
"Good morning."
"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.
"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."
"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."
"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."
"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.
The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.
Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.
It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.
Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.
Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.
Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.
Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."
"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"
"Now Alfred."
That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.
Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.
That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.
"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.
The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.
"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.
Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.
He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."
Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.
As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.
"Holy shit- are those real?"
"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.
"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."
Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.
Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.
Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.
Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.
Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?
Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.
"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.
"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.
"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."
"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.
"She's gone."
"Well, I don't care."
There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."
You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."
His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."
"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."
He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.
"You can't leave me."
"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."
"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."
Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.
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hana-no-seiiki · 8 months ago
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Menace! Reader who keeps using the batfam’s real names during patrols/fights.
Menace! Reader who doesn’t take patrol/fights or most heists seriously at all. They have numerous plans already prepared for the case that they lose or get bodied which is all the time. But they always escape even if the boys don’t purposely let them off
Bruce will say it’s cause Menace! Reader knows and won’t hesitate to expose their true identities to the world. Which is true, but Menace! Reader thinks he’s being too dramatic.
I mean it’s not like they have an entire document detailing the atrocities Batman could have prevented if he didn’t have that stupid no-kill rule. The lives and people that has been lost to Joker. Detailing each one of them so they won’t end up as just a number under that monster’s belt.
Menace! Reader who’s always, always there for everyone of the Batfam’s members if they’re needed. Ever since Jason’s death, they made sure to keep tabs on every one of Batman’s kids.
Menace! Reader who hides how much they care, how deathly afraid they are of losing anyone in that family, Robin or not.
Yandere! Batfamily who knows of all of this and would die before anyone ever hurts you.
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darkstaria · 3 months ago
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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.
Chapter 6:
Summary: After being ambushed previously in Gotham's streets, you awake alone and afraid, in a strange building.
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 7.
----
A furious pounding beat at your skull, a liquid of some kind dripped down from your head. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by what could only be some kind of warehouse.
You were in a daze, barely recognising what was in front of you. What vision you had was muddled by pain and your hearing was drowned out by a piercing beat in your ears.
What...?
You could hardly think.
The world was a messy tsunami of pain and confusion. That is... Until a flash of green, white and red beamed into your eyes, a sneering smile on its face.
You gasped. Breath caught in your throat, as your chin was caught in his hand.
The Joker.
"HahahahahahaHAHAHAHA!" The laugh echoed throughout the building as your surprise turned into shakes. The hand left go as Joker's chortle turned into a full laugh, but that was hardly a relief.
This was, quite literally, the worst situation you could have ever gotten into. Out of everyone who would have an interest in Batman's soulmate, why must it be him?
You instinctively try to move, but soon realise you've been restrained, ropes tying you down to an iron chair. They don't budge.
The stomping of shoes drew your attention back to him, as the Joker approached you again.
"Well now." He began, a beaming grin stretching his face. "Lookie what we have here. You know, I was having a wonderful night, finally out on the town, able to meet all my old friends again. Then I meet you, and you know what I think?"
He rested a hand on your shoulder. You fought a shiver.
"What a... great new friend?" You try. You go for a smile of your own. You're certain it looks more like a grimace.
A mocking laugh is his response. Then, with a sudden twist, his hands grasp your collar, bringing you to his eye level. The movement forces you against the ropes that constrict your stomach, suffocating you.
"I find... a sniveling little brat, that just so happens, TO HAVE A BAT PROTECTING-"
A screech cuts him off, a flurry of wings diving directly into his face, what you could barely make out as a beak aimed at his eyes. The pain you're under causes you to take a moment to understand what's going on, as Joker swings a crowbar at the flying figure.
It was... Hood. Pecking and clawing at the Joker, doing whatever it could to draw him away. And it was working too.
That is, until Joker pressed down on his flower, causing a spray of gas to surge outward directly into Hood's line of flight. It slowed it down, a pause as Hood squawked in pain. A pause that was swiftly taken advantage of, as Joker swung a brutal arc into Hood, the crowbar sending the bird flying across the room and into a crumpled pile on the ground.
"No!" The scream tore itself out of you, a primal sort of agony you never thought you would ever feel after you had withdrawn from thoughts of your soulmates. It was like losing him all over again. Vigilante or not, Hood was a bird. Birds didn't typically survive a hit from a crowbar. If Hood died here, what would you do? One of the connections that had tormented you all your life, over just like that.
The scream drew Joker's attention back to you, a realisation that sank deeply in your throat. He approached you again, an air of casualness across his figure.
"Birds, what little pests. Good thing I always carry around pest spray." He laughs, adjusting the flower resting on his lapel. "I've always preferred bats." A thunk noise sounded out as he spoke, drawing your attention to a small cage he dropped.
It was a birdcage. Inside that birdcage was...
"Batman?!"
The bat inside was still, its gaze fixed on Joker's movements, but it did shift briefly to watch you for but a second as you spoke its name.
"Hahaha!" Joker's laugh was like nails on a chalkboard. "Turns out all you need to capture a bat is the right bait."
"How..?" You mumbled, the words unconsciously forming on your tongue due to the shock.
"Within a moment of my crowbar's acquaintance with your dear old head, Bats appeared! A bit of a nuisance at first, but a few threats at that neck of yours calmed him right down!" Joker admitted, the biggest smile you had seen yet on his face. He chuckled at the mere memory of it, as you shook in horror.
Two of your soulmates were now down. You couldn't stop shaking, horrified. All your options were dwindling and Joker looked more... murdery by the second.
Your attention was caught by a feeling of feathers brushing against your arms, the shaking making the thing touch you. You paused for a miniscule second, as you tried to think of what it was. Wait.
Was another one of your soulmates here? But rather than fight, this one was untying you? Or maybe gnawing at the ropes, whichever option was more plausible for a bird/bat.
Could you stall long enough to get out? It seemed like the only possibility left.
"Why...why do this? What enjoyment are you finding from this?" Maybe not the best line of questioning, but it was all your pounding head could come up with.
"Why?" Joker echoed, pausing for a moment. "Because I don't take kindly to cheaters. Me and Bats have something special. I dealt with my soul chain long ago, and yet! I find him cheating on me with this lousy excuse for a time waster!" He ends his shout pointing at you, a scowl on his painted face. It's possibly the worst expression you've seen on Joker yet.
"Aren't the other Robins his soulmates too? Why are you only targeting me?"
"I dealt with one of the flying rats long ago, quite a great plan if I may say so, but he just came back! I don't feel like wasting my time with this eternal game of wack-a-mole, so I've decided on a new method."
What's the method...?" You ask, reluctantly.
"You." He smiles.
He steps closer, withdrawing a gun from his pocket. "Thanks for the opportunity to capture Bats, my dear, but I've had enough of his chains getting in the way of our little game. I'll take much better care of little Batsy once you die, well, to an extent anyway! Hahaha!"
He tosses the gun up and down, carelessly as he walks towards you.
Up.
What could you do?
Down.
Hood was still crumpled in the corner, likely unconscious.
Up.
Batman was shaking the cage, unable to do anything else in its rage.
Down.
The unknown soul animal hadn't finished removing the ropes.
Across. The gun meets your temple, a few inches away from your head. You lock eyes with him. He pulls the trigger.
Pop! You flinch, coming face to face with a little Bang! flag that popped out of the gun.
You sigh, a momentary relief. You've been spared. You shift a little, feeling the ropes loosen. Your soul animal was doing its job well. You intake a few breaths, as Joker slaunters away from you, chuckling under his breath.
You close your eyes for a moment, trying to regain yourself amidst all the pain.
BANG!
"Agh-!" You jolt, shooting straight up. There's a pain in your cheek, a metallic liquid dripping down.
Turning your head ever so slightly, you spy the Bang flag lodged into the wall. It was a real gun after all.
But..
Why didn't he shoot you?
"Guns are a little too dry, don't you think?" You turn back around, immediately coming face to face with the Joker, an image that makes you flinch.
There's a crowbar in his hands.
"I don't ever repeat jokes, but, my first attempt with this weapon didn't stick too long. I don't want to lower the bar of my comedy, but maybe it'll work this time? Second time's the charm!"
"It's actually the third time.." You speak, nerves causing your words to tumble out. So that's why he didn't shoot you. He intends to make your final moments as painful as possible.
He smiles in response to your quip, lifting the bar up.
"W-wait!" You cried out, desperation pooling into whatever would give you a chance at survival. "Couldn't you do anything else?! Brainwash me, use me as a hostage, isn't it just a waste if you kill me?!" You practically scream the final words, your panic reaching a crescendo of horror.
The Joker's reply is simple.
"Nope!"
He swings.
BANG!
A bullet flies through his hand, forcing him to drop the crowbar as he pulls back.
You both turn, spotting a bulky man in black at the entrance of the warehouse.
He's wearing a red helmet.
"Joker.." The voice is deep, a threatening timbre you'd only hear replicated in nightmares.
"Let. The civilian. Go.” His gun clicks.
“Urgh. Speak of the devil.” Joker complains, unphased. “My plans are being ruined and it's not even by Bats. What is the world coming to?”
“Wait…” The Joker pauses, noticing a fallacy in the vigilantes’ words. “Civilian? Oh, HAHAHA! OHHhhh you have no idea what’s going on here do you?” The Joker snickers in delight, giving you a conniving glance.
“Oh my, oh my. I didn't realise you were also a jokester.” Joker squishes your cheeks, a little too harsh to be anything but painful. He laughs again at the expression on your face.
There's no response from the figure, but the bullet that Joker barely dodges the next second later is answer enough. It grants you and the Joker some distances, so you're grateful.
A flapping of wings draws your attention, a dark blue blur sailing through the room before landing on your lap. Nightwing.
You blink in realisation, finally understanding why not all your soul animals had appeared to help you. Wing had led one of the bats to you. You glanced over. Judging from the helmet, was this Red Hood.
Uh oh. You hoped he didn't notice Hood in the corner.
Or Batman. Or the soul animal freeing you- oh no you were absolutely screwed weren’t you?
You gulp.
“Wait.. You?” Red Hood’s modulated voice didn’t convey any emotion, but it couldn't disguise the hesitance in which he spoke.
Exposed.
“Uhmmm… no?” You tried.
Wing nuzzled your cheek. Hood’s gaze intensified.
“Okay! Okay yes, but I swear there's a reason why I never came to any of you- it wasn't because of you-” Oh dear that one was a blatant lie.
“I.. I mean, I just didn't want-” What could you do, what could you say? You didn't want to lie, but the truth wasn't good either.
In-between your frantic ramblings however, the Joker had snuck up on Red Hood, taking a lucky swing that missed by about a centimeter.
Red Hood’s retaliation was swift, the two suddenly engaging in a battle of force that was very much leaning in Red Hood’s favour. Although, ever so often Red Hood gave a wince of pain. Did Hood’s soul animal form’s state injure him slightly?
That question would go unanswered, as the ropes around you crumpled, revealing Red to be the soul animal that had been bailing you out all this time.
Well. You weren't going to get a better opportunity than this. Pushing Red and Wing off your lap, you rush out, aiming for one of the broken windows.
Batman makes a slight growling noise as you pass his birdcage. You try not to think about it.
“Hey!” A batarang flies past you, the rope attached to it meeting no target as you trip on some broken glass.
“Ah!” You mumble, surprised at your good (?) forture. There's now a cut on your leg. Great.
Red Hood is subsequently distracted from any more attempts to detain you, as the Joker takes another swing that gets a little too close for comfort in response, laughing all the while.
Clumsily falling out of the window, you thank Lady Gotham that the Joker kidnapped you on the ground floor, so there’s no drop whatsoever.
You sigh, injuries now taking a toll as the constant adrenaline was wearing off. You stumble forward.
Red and Wing land on your shoulders. Of course.
You limp out into Gotham’s alleyways, oblivious to the movement of a lithe figure on the rooftop, watching you.
----
Yeah those who guessed Joker were correct! Enjoy a cookie if you did! It seemed criminal to not have a chapter that explored how a soulmate universe would influence Batman and Joker's relationship, so that's what I did!
Oh and yeah, poor Reader. They are not having too good of a time rn. All these injuries aren't really gonna help them plead their case either.
A bit more of Jason this time too! How funnnn. I definitely feel bad for birdy Hood though. Red Hood may be super skilled but it's a little too unrealistic for him to solo as a bird :(
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dontbesoweirdkira · 21 days ago
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I'm not saying yandere Dick Grayson would baby trap his darling...but he most definitely would
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Warnings: toxic and abusive themes. forced domesticated life, mentions of baby trapping, purposeful weight gain, manipulation, dick is a good hubby though, he's just so desprate
Please just hear me out on this concept. Now i've said before that Dick Grayson would've realistically had to put a halt on his personal life and relationships because alongside being nightwing and keeping his family together, it'd just be too much.
Could you imagine Yandere! Dick is like hitting his mid-thirties at this point, work is growing old and all of his siblings are just about adults and he's exhausted. One day, the siblings are all just chilling around the mansion and the topic of what they plan to do with their life after being a vigilante comes up. Dick hadn't though about it ever because well...this consumed every minute of his life but he figured he'd probably settle down and start a family. Jokingly one of his siblings said, "How could you ever find time for another family when you're already the matriarch of this one?", and it just hasn't left his mind since.
Fast forward and he's sitting in a dinner alone after patrol and he's just watching this family and their kids and it just hits him that he'll never have that at the rate he's going. If he doesn't end up dead from his work, he'd probably end up rotting in that mansion alone because he's too busy fixing the messes Bruce made with the others. He's been a "father" to his siblings since his teen years and he has not much to show for it. I mean he's proud of all of them but...he's still just their older brother...
He goes home and is thinking about just how happy that father looked while throwing his kids up in the air...or how beautiful his wife looked carrying their unborn child. He envied how simple and perfect their life was. They didn't have to miss out on life to fight crime around the clock or to piece back together something he never broke. They could happily go home..with each other and be proud of what they've made. He's looking back at his life and while he knows he's accomplished so much but being an actual dad is something he'll never get a chance to be. Not while he's still playing as the head of Bruce's household.
Yandere! Dick Grayson who now wants to be a father so badly and to come home to a pretty wife who truly loved him. Not just some one nighter who couldn't see past his body.
He met you by chance a few weeks later. It was while he was grabbing food before his nightly patrol, and the spark was like never before. It was fate. or delusion You were destined to be his pretty wife and be his ticket out of that mess. You're so perfect
Dick is maybe a little too eager to make his desires a reality. Like he's completely ready to let go of his previous familial duties to make way for his new ones. It's a huge shift but it's a necessary one. This is his Fiona Gallagher moment. He's steadily loosening the grip and ignoring calls to be fully focused on you. Dick wants to prove he'll be a great husband who won't neglect you for anyone else even if they're as close as family. He can't let them get in the way anymore.
He doesn't care if he has to manipulate his way into your heart, he's going to have you. He's the only one that'd ever be as good to you as he will be. There's not even a money limit on how much he's willing to pour into this process. If it takes paying your rent or car note to prove he's provider material...then so be it. Anything for the future mother of his children.
!Yandere Dick Grayson who doesn't even know if you want kids or marriage but he's so far gone in his own fantasies that he just assumes you have the same goals as he...even if you don't...you soon will..I like to think he slowly shifts you into being a stay at home girlfriends and floods your mind with ideas of this being your purpose. He needs you to know just how great you are at being domestic...this isn't so bad right? You could do this for the rest of your life!
Like i said he doesn't mind throwing money at you if it'll make you desire this life with him. Besides, he prefers you to be financially dependent on him. You are so shy when you ask him for things but he loves knowing that you need him, just like a good wife does.
First he's just always wanting you over his house for cute dates, then it's becoming a weekender situation...then a few days out of the week and now you practically live with him.
In the meantime he's doing subtle things like cooking dinner and breakfast with you at the same times every day. This is so you'll automatically start doing this on your own and so you know what he likes and at what time. He's got you doing shopping runs for the home. He's a sneaky little shit who asks you to throw in his laundry and clean up his messes while he's at work. He of course compensates you for being such a great helper. Your new job is here at his home. It fills him up with so much joy when he comes home and all your tasks are completed.
Yandere! Dick who is always surprising you with foods and snacks you cannot resist to make you plumper for when you're carrying his baby. Of course he's denying the allegations when you jokingly tease him about making you fat on purpose but we know the truth. Still, he's loving your body regardless, it needs to be healthy with extra fats to keep your children protected. He can barely contain himself though when he sees your little stomach pudge , it gets him all too excited for the real deal. It makes him feel all the less guilty about tampering with the contraceptives when he thinks about how gorgeous you'll be when you're swollen with his baby. I mean you're already this cute with a little bloat.
Oh just the thought of you walking around in public and everyone who sees you know that you're already claimed..ugh He doesn't know what to do with himself. You're all his and no one can steal you away from him. Not when you don't have any time. You're too busy taking care of the home and the baby to be bothered by anything else.
You won't be too mad at him, right? I mean just so desperate to have a quiet new life. He wants to be a father so bad, please let him have this. He'll be so so good for you and the baby.....he needs this.
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knullanon · 2 years ago
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Platonic Batfamily growing attached to a competent civillian informant. Grown up, like late 20s and attached to their community, they have picked up and nursed vigilantes from bloody battlefields and had quite few grazes with death over their years in Gotham
headcannons for this one! sorry for taking so long!
words: 897
warnings: blood, injuries, stalking, lmk if I missed any!
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the first time that they were introduced to you was when you helped out Dick with a leg injury. It was in the middle of the night, and he was just about to pass out, when you showed up. while he originally thought it was someone to finish him off, when you pulled out medical equipment from seemingly nowhere.
he was really confused. did Bruce send for you? did you just spot him and so happened to have bandages? while he had a bunch of questions, after you were finished you just waved at him and then walked away. he didn't remember much as soon afterward Cass found him, but he told her about the strange experience.
she was also a a little confused, and worried. they both looked into it, and found out about who you were. when they told Bruce, he decided to ask around, to see if anyone else knew anything. apparently, you would just go up to injured heroes, patch them up, say goodbye and then walk off. on a regular occurrence.
while Bruce was intrigued, he also knew that maybe appearing before you to thank you wouldn't be a good idea, so he really left it alone. and then his other kids started meeting you.
Tim had a dislocated arm. duke was bleeding from a stab wound. even Damian, however reluctant to accept the help, had to be fixed up by you once in a while.
and then, one day it was Bruce who you found. he was suffering from a cut on his side, one that was a little too painful to just walk away from. he was leaning against a wall, already trying to contact Alfred for a hand, when you just appeared.
you two just stared at each other for a minute, before he decided "fuck it" and let you do your thing. this was also the turning point where he decided to get some answers.
"who are you?" "_____." "why do you do this?" "because I am good at it."
after you were done, you just left. again.
Bruce already had your info and who you were, he had known about it since you first appeared. but it after his encounter with you, he actually decided to do some stalking of his own.
he soon realized that it wasn't just some occurrence that you were more often in Gotham than other cities: you preferred helping the family, often going out of your way to find them in case they needed a medic.
eventually, it was a regular occurrence to see you around the batfamily or even just hanging out with them while they're on patrol.
at some point, Bruce just decided to give you access to the cave because 1, you pretty much only go out as your 'medic' persona with the rest of the family, and 2, he realized you were almost like Dick.
this new promotion also made you officially part of the batfam. while beforehand, they couldn't do much about you or how you thought because of your independence from them. however, after you're given access, they will try to convince you to become a "base medic", or basically only stay at the cave on duty.
at first, you think it was a joke by the kids because you really only wait for someone to be injured, and then you can do your job. but then the whole family starts to get in on it, telling you the perks of not having to prowl the streets all night or day looking for trouble.
you point out that they do almost the same thing, but your arguments are ignored. it's only when Alfred sits you down to ask if you would become the medic is when you realize you probably should consider it.
if you do accept the idea, then there wouldn't be any other issues. they'll set you up probably with your own little area, for you to patch them up and make sure they're alright. eventually, you won't really need to go outside that much, as everything you need is provided by them, so why would you leave?
if you don't, it will only be a matter of time before you do. your apartment suddenly got destroyed or you're being evicted for no reason? they have (many) spare rooms at the manor! your income isn't making ends meet for supplies? they have plenty of them in the cave!
even if for some reason you avoid or fix every scheme of theirs to somehow "ruin" your life, they will just tell you "get in the cave or we'll drag you there."
while sometimes it's lonely in the cave, Alfred is almost always there. he likes to just sit down and talk to you, like a grandparent asking their kid how their school is going.
the rest of the family always avoids topics that relate to the outside all the time. even if you ask, they'll try to redirect the conversation to something else, usually someone's injuries to try and distract you.
while they understand that you want to leave, or that you want to help other people, they tell you that a lot has changed in Gotham, or that you don't know what it's really like. basically anything that will keep you from getting curious about the outside.
they will never let you outside again.
~~~
love you guys! ヾ( ̄▽ ̄)
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klemen-tine · 9 months ago
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Blowing Raspberries
Batfam x Male!Reader Platonic
@jaythes1mp Sorry this took so long and is not all in one part! But here is the first half.
Part 2
TW: Break in, Child Abuse (not the Batfam), and neglect
Publicly, Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson is the oldest Wayne sibling. Taken in by Bruce Wayne at 8-years-old, he is the first child and the oldest. In the eyes of the law and adoption papers. In the eyes of the Wayne family however, the oldest sibling title belongs to Y/N L/N. Similar to the Drakes, the L/N’s live on the other side of the Waynes, and similar to Tim, Y/N had been left home alone… a lot. 
Which meant he was over, a lot. So much so, he had his own room, Alfred made him a plate for every meal, and he was aware of their little nightly activities. Y/N L/N was a needed normalcy within the Manor, reminding them that there is more to life outside of crime fighting. 
“Did you see that new cafe?” Y/N asked, looking into Dick’s exhausted eyes while resting his chest against Jason’s head. Dick shook his head, “No. Why?” Y/N pouted, “Because you guys literally broke their windows last night.” Jason winced, remembering the shattering of glass and wide-eyed stares as he handled some thugs. 
“Please tell me that isn’t the cafe you wanted to go to today.” Dick buried his head in his hands and begged every deity that it was not that cafe. Y/N has been talking about it for weeks and finally found a time where all their schedules aligned so they could do it. 
“It was.” Jason and Dick groaned while Y/N stared at them with an annoyed expression. His arms that were wrapped around Jason tightened in a mocking chokehold, knowing that if Jason wanted to he could easily get out and have Y/N pinned. Dick groaned again, “Is… is there somewhere else you want to try?” 
“Not really.” ‘Fuck!’ Jason and Dick stared at one another, trying to figure out a way to still have this day with Y/N. If they don’t hurry, the vultures will swoop in and suggest something that will catch Y/N’s attention and– 
“Y/N, how about we got to the petting zoo.” 
“Dami!” 
“Buzz off short stack!” Y/N thumped Jason’s head with his chin, “Don’t talk to Dami like that.” The youngest Wayne smiled victoriously while his two older brothers glared at him. Dick looked offended and Jason was actually ready to strangle him. Y/N shook his head, “Dami, aren’t we going on Friday? I’m picking you up from school to go.” Damian scrunched his nose, “We can go twice.” 
Y/N couldn’t help but to chuckle, “Hmmm, those rabbits are cute.” Jason’s grip tightened, “The new bookstore in downtown! There’s a new bookstore that is supposed to have a cafe attached to it.” Damian scowled at Dick perked up, “Yeah, I forgot about that.” Y/N hummed, staring at Jason in concern, “Jay, you hate downtown.” It’s full of rich snobs and people who have nothing better to do than walk the streets in designer clothing. 
Jason made a face, “It’s our day with you, I’m fine with it as long as you’re there.” Dick gagged and Damian looked ready to chuck a knife at him. Y/N blinked at the younger man in shock before laughing, “That’s cute, okay. Let’s go there then.” He released Jason from his hold, unwrapping his arms from Jason’s neck and standing tall. Dick smiled at Y/N, who was talking to a pouting Damian and ruffling slicked back hair. 
“Alright, Y/N, I'm assuming you’re ready.” Unlike the Wayne brothers who had a father that did not care why they landed on the NEWS or magazine as long as they didn’t kill anyone, Y/N’s father was different. For someone who was always gone, he had a firm hold and opinions on Y/N’s life. 
Bruce may not care that his kids go out looking like they haven’t showered in three days, but Y/N’s dad has ordered the maids to get rid of all the ripped jeans Y/N had because the paparazzi made an opinion on them when Y/N wore them. Jason remembers listening in on that call, and numerous other calls from Mr. L/N, as he hollered at his child he did not care about. 
“You are a L/N! If you still want that last name then you will dress like a L/N!”
Unlike Dick and Jason who are dressed in jeans, Y/N is dressed in slacks and a nice polo shirt. His hair was clean and styled and the shoes he wore still shined. The aesthetic is called ‘old money’ and boy did Y/N have that. He and the Wayne siblings have become the newest trend setters in Gotham. 
Whenever the paparazzi caught them together it was always Old Gotham vs New Gotham. Slacks vs Jeans. Hair combed vs natural. Clean vs Rugged. L/N vs Wayne. 
They were the topic whenever they were out together, which was a lot. The only reason Mr. L/N hasn’t said anything is probably because Bruce is keeping his mouth shut about the child-neglect and abandonment. Point is, seeing the Wayne kids and L/N son together wasn’t odd, in fact there were jokes of Bruce Wayne adopting him, but they still always turned heads. 
“Y/N, I am telling you that is a horrible choice and you’re not gonna like it.” Said young man raised an eyebrow at Jason and tutted disappointedly, “Jay, you haven’t even read it.” The guy motioned at the cover, “Look at it! Dick! Come ‘ere and look at it!” The other made only a side glance at it and sighed, “Y/N… this is only going to lead to problems.” 
“It is literally a book about romance.” Jason screwed up his face, like someone had shoved a lemon down his throat, “But like… young adult romance. Read the classics.” 
“I have read the classics. You have read me the classics. I read them in class and if I have to read how Ms. Elizabeth Barnett falls in love with Mr. Darcy one more time I’m actually going to throw myself in traffic.” Dick agreed with Y/N on that, remembering all the time he had to read the damn book. 
“It's Elizabeth Bennett.” 
“Jay, I swear to God.” 
“Are you sure you read them because there’s no way someone who’s read them would get that name wrong.” 
“Little wing–” 
“–Dickie, maybe. But not anybody else.” 
“–Excuse you.” Y/N snorted at the now bickering brothers, watching in amusement as Dick pulled Jason’s ear and Jason to Dick’s hair. Sighing, Y/N stepped between the two. Y/N L/N is possibly the only person, other than Alfred, who would dare do such a thing. Fear was absent on his face as he calmly walked into the dog fight, and helped release their bites with gentle tugs and stern words. 
“Enough. The line is picking up at the cafe, so let's checkout and head over.” Y/N is the person who quells the fights and mends the bonds. The only person in the Manor that knew how to communicate their feelings and help others realize and communicate theirs. 
He is the kind, patient, and understanding older brother of the Batfam. Always paying attention to other’s needs and always willing to listen to someone vent their frustrations and offer sound advice. Y/N is –
“–And what about the company?! How come the sales are low this month?” 
“Father, they are riding average, it’s just the last month was a boom because–” 
“I don’t care about last month! Why are the sales low this month?!” 
– not Bruce Wayne’s ward, and therefore there isn’t much he can say in this scenario. Bruce listened and watched  Y/N slouch as Mr. L/N continued to scream and berate him from across the world. He watched the exhaustion take over Y/N’s features and the way his forehead creased, Bruce knows that a headache is now present. 
“If you still want the company then you better act like it! Enough of prancing around like the money you spend is yours!” Y/N is grateful his father hung up after that, because Y/N had a clapback to that and he’s sure his father would fly back from wherever he is just to smack him around for saying it. 
Setting his phone down on the coffee table, the weight of the conversation making his shoulders sag and melt into the armchair with a huff. Bruce chuckled at the pout, “For what it is worth, fluctuating prices are normal in businesses. As long as it doesn’t go too low, you are fine.” Y/N smiled at the man, fixing his posture and picking up the mug of coffee. 
“You heard all of that?” The man can still remember when he first met Y/N. The property alarm was triggered, and when Bruce and Alfred went out to investigate, an 8-year-old Y/N was there, his hands holding the wild raspberries and his cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk. 
He huffed at the memory, making Y/N give him a weird look. Bruce had been grateful to Y/N’s impromptu trespassing, because when Dick came into his care, a now 10-year-old Y/N had welcomed the traumatized and blubbering 8-year-old. Something Bruce had little to no idea how to handle. 
Then Jason came and that was a wild ride, followed by Steph, then Tim, and now Damian. That's just the Robins. It doesn’t include the others that have become family but never took the Robin mantle. Y/N had been there through it all, and welcomed each one with a smile and open arms. At the same time giving Bruce a raised eyebrow and icy glare that screamed, ‘Really? Another child?’ 
Y/N never faulted Bruce for his lack of communication, but he did let the man know repeatedly that while words may start fires, they can also put them out. Y/N had laid it on him one time, after a particular nasty fight with Dick and Jason. 
“For a man who loves using his vocabulary to start arguments you sure don’t have the vocabulary to fix them. What are you, a toddler?” 
Mending things with Y/N is always easy, because Y/N does not hold grudges. Not to mention having the emotional intelligence of a therapist, Y/N was always in-tuned to his emotions and whether he was projecting or not. Or if anyone else was. Living in a manor filled with people who have traumatic backstories and skeletons in the closets, Y/N has become the voice of reason and unbiased opinions. Similar to Alfred, just without the sass. 
“Do you still like raspberries?” Bruce asked, and Y/N nodded, “You ask this every time a celebration of some sort comes up and the answer is always the same. Yes, I still love raspberries.” Y/N had once confided to Bruce, over a glass of wine, how he had asked his father if he could paint the bookshelves in his room. Little did Mr. L/N know that the color would be burgundy, the closest color to a raspberry he could get without poking someone’s eye out, and when his father found out he had the bookshelves removed and set ablaze. 
Y/N got his ass handed to him when Mr. L/N came back from his trip, and was then prohibited from decorating his room without prior approval of design and permission. 
Bruce had the bookshelves in Y/N’s room in the manor painted burgundy, and when Y/N saw them, it was like watching a child be told that they were not the bad child. The relief and the path to healing across his face as he took in the bookshelves.
The man watched Y/N sip his cup of coffee, watching how exhaustion seemed to seep off of him like cologne and fill the air with his tired and somewhat annoyed state. Phone calls from Mr. L/N we’re never received well by anybody, and Jason and Tim have more than once thought about sending the hateful man a few messages. Damian offered to ambush him when he came home. 
Y/N quickly shot those down.
Tim came from nowhere, his face screwed tight and body tense. Y/N gave him a once over, before making space for the college student on the couch. He gave him a worried look-over, “Is everything alright?” Tim melted into Y/N’s side, huffing and grumbling about something. 
Bruce’s phone vibrated, and it was a message from Tim sent before he got down here. 
‘It’s in Cabo.’ Bruce huffed, already knowing that if Tim was listening then so was everyone else. Referring to Mr. L/N as an ‘it’ seemed to be everyone’s favorite pastime. Everyone but Y/N’s, but as long as it wasn’t said around him then it was fine. 
“You’re going to the Gala, right?” Tim asked and Y/N nodded, “Of course, when have I ever missed one?” Tim continued to grumble a bit, but relaxed into Y/N’s side as he ran his fingers through Tim’s messy hair. God he loves it when Y/N does this. There was barely anything better than Y/N’s head massages, easily lulling him to a calm state as everyone mentally prepared for the Gala tonight. 
When Y/N had turned 13, that is when he started showing up to the Galas representing L/N Industries, and he would be in Bruce’s care while there. Whoever Bruce met, Y/N was expected to make a great impression. Bruce never missed the way Y/N would sometimes stare at the Wayne kids in jealousy as they got to do whatever they want, while he is forced to be an adult and try to win other adults over. 
Then forced to be yelled at afterwards by his father on the phone afterwards for something miniscule. Either someone commented on a piece of clothing, or how he wasn’t smiling, anything that was negative Y/N got yelled at for. It was like Mr. L/N didn’t know how to do anything else other than yell at his child. 
Tim took no offense when the fingers in his hair stopped moving, and Y/N’s body became limp. The other was knocked out on the couch, napping away the stress and enjoying the weekend. Unlike Tim who had Bruce’s help when managing Wayne Enterprises, Y/N is all on his own. Learning from his dad’s assistant, and also Bruce’s, Y/N was basically alone when his father had forced him to take the mantle. In face only, because as far as Mr. L/N was concerned, the company’s profit was still his profit. None of it going to Y/N, except as a monthly allowance. 
Jason had once said he should just stop managing the company, and if his father loved it enough, then he’ll take over. Y/N chuckled-the bags under his eyes were deep and he had just gotten over a stress cold- and he said that although his father may care a lot about the profit, it was his late mother’s company and he wouldn’t want to embarrass her soul by purposefully failing. 
However, now all that company did was cause him stress and make him sick more frequently. Bruce had said it was probably stress from his father, and not so much the company, but that didn’t stop them all from wishing the company would just go away. 
Tim looked up Y/N through his eyelashes, taking in the similar dark circles they both shared and how Y/N looks paler than usual, and he knows that Y/N’s health would only get worse if they targeted the company. His oldest brother would do everything in his power to keep the company afloat, and it would be devastating on both sides. Y/N would run himself ragged trying to keep it alive and that would mean less time with them. 
“Let him rest, Tim. He needs it.” Everyone has asked Bruce if he plans to do something. However, there isn’t much Bruce can do now that Y/N is an adult. He’s offered a room in a manor for Y/N to stay at forever, but Y/N has always been a bit hesitant about leaving the L/N’s home. Bruce can understand why. 
Aged blue eyes observed the steady rise and fall of Y/N’s chest, and he wondered if there was anything that could convince Y/N to stay here. 
++++
“Mr. L/N, what a surprise.” A surprise it is too, because instead of Y/N being here, it is his father. The one who was in Cabo earlier today. The man smiled, looking nothing like Y/N’s, and he held out a hand, “It has been a while. I figured it was time to show my face and give my son a rest.” Dick stared at Mr. L/N in shock and weariness, not liking how he said ‘his son.’ If it was a jab at Bruce, it didn’t land. Brucie Wayne, the social bug he was, laughed and clapped his hand on Mr. L/N’s shoulder. 
“Is Y/N not showing up?” The man’s eyebrow twitched, “No, unfortunately he felt under the weather so he’s taking a break.” Dick’s eyes narrowed, and Bruce’s smile faltered, “Is that so? How unfortunate, he’s fun to talk to.” Mr. L/N’s smile tightened, “Indeed.” 
The Gala was tense, at least it was for the Wayne family, because Y/N never misses a Gala. Never. Dick saved a slice of raspberry cheesecake, for when Y/N comes over tomorrow. He’s going to be upset that he missed a fresh slice, but knowing Y/N, he’ll worry about missing the Gala. The cheesecake will act as reassurance that no one is mad. They just had to wait until tomorrow, when Y/N will show up. 
Only he didn’t. Dick can’t remember the last time he hasn’t seen Y/N in a 24-hour period, but he does know that he didn’t like it. Almost like there was a force keeping his shoulders tight and chest heavy. Looking around, he could already see the effects it was having on others. 
He didn’t answer his phone, and when they called the L/N Manor, it was one of the maids picking up and stating that Y/N was either out, sleeping, or feeling under the weather. Which doesn’t make sense because when Y/N is sick, he is always over at the Wayne manor. No one makes a better chicken noodle soup than Alfred. 
They let it go. Maybe Y/N wants to be home because his dad is home? 
Then the next day, there was still no Y/N. Not a text message, not a phone call, complete radio silence. Following radio silence while on patrol, radio silence from Y/N had to be one of the more terrifying forms of silence. 
There was nothing. His father left late last night, and usually that would mean Y/N would be over. He would be over complaining about his dad and how he needs to work harder. He’d get a stress cold that would last for two days before he would be back to normal.
Every phone call, every text message going unanswered. 
‘Y/N, I swear I’m about to break into your house. Please answer.’ The threat was real and Dick meant every word. He’s talked Jason, Damian, and surprisingly Tim from doing it but now four days of radio silence was enough to make even Bruce stir-crazy. Batman has become a little more violent throughout the week, and Bruce Wayne a little more stressed looking. 
‘Hey! Sorry for the silence, I’m just not feeling too well. I’ll see you in another few days.’ Everyone read the text message, and everyone’s mind filled with the same idea. 
“Honestly, with how often he’s with us you’d think he knows better than to lie.” Damian’s nose scrunched, eyeing the message as if it spit in his face. Tim shrugged, “It just means he’s hiding something.” 
Bruce said nothing, falling into the role of silent protector. 
“You are not actually going over in your Bat costume are you?” 
In the L/N Manor 
Y/N walked  the dark hallways back to his room. Under his arm was a book and in his other hand was a cup of coffee, still steaming and warming his fingers. The lightning that occasionally flashed filled the area with white light, casting long shadows and creating an eerie atmosphere. 
When Y/N was younger, he used to sprint back to his room. He hated how dark and silent the hallways are, reminding him that he is alone in a place that does not want him. When he whispered to Dick that he was scared of the lightning, Dick had told Bruce and sure enough Y/N would be spending nights at the Wayne manor whenever it was forecasted to thunderstorm. 
Y/N had gotten over the fear, but he still occasionally slept over when the forecast predicted rain. Just because he no longer feared it, didn’t mean he liked it. 
Pausing to look out the window like some gothic prince trapped in a tower, Y/N recalled the argument he had with his dad. The older L/N making a surprise visit and berating his child when he first saw him and when he left. Y/N wondered if with the allowance he was given, if he could just move out. Apartments in the upper end of Gotham were expensive, and he’d never hear the end of it if he moved to East Gotham. 
Not to mention, if he did leave to move out on his own, he’d be further from the Wayne family. Sure, Jason and Dick live on their own, and it wasn’t like Tim or Damian needed him around all the time, but it was home for him. 
Maybe, he’s the one that needs them.
Lightning flashed and there was another reflection in the window. 
“Ahhh!” Y/N threw his cup of coffee at the stranger behind him, and only paused in throwing the book when he saw the familiar cowl. 
“Bruce! What the hell?! Oh my God, oh my God, I think I just lost like 10 years of my life.” Y/N clasped a hand over his heart, trying to calm the organ. Taking deep breaths, he finally managed to steady his heart beat and scrunched his nose at the older man. To which, Bruce Wayne glared back, “What happened to your face?” 
‘Oh shit.’ Y/N sighed, “Nothing Bruce. I just fell, but what are you doing in my house? Did…did you break in?” Y/N tried to get around the taller and bigger man, but Bruce grabbed his arm. He spun Y/N around and thanks to the flash of lightning, Bruce’s jaw clenched at the fading bruises on Y/N’s face. 
“Did F/N do this?” 
“Bruce, I told you I just fell.” The lenses on the cowl narrowed, and Y/N saw the frown grow on the man’s face. Sighing, Y/N scrunched nose and winced when a bruise scrunched with it, “Honestly though Bruce, how did you even get in here? No, how did you even guess this hallway?” 
“You’re rooms this way.”
“Ahhhhh!” Y/N screamed and ran into Bruce’s side for protection against the voice. 
“Dick! Ho-wha- why are you here?!” 
“We were worried.” This time Y/N only flinched, and whirled around to see Damian in the Robin costume. He gaped at the pre-teen, “Oh my God, you all are just spawning out of nowhere.” Damian grabbed his hand, and Y/N couldn’t help but to hold the youngest’s hand. Muscle memory. 
“Y/N, you’re face,” Dick whispered, gently tracing the swollen and discolored skin, “We thought you were sick.” Y/N smiled, leaning into the palm of Dick’s hand, “I was. I’m just getting over it, as for the bruises… Like I was telling Bruce, I just fell.” 
Damian’s grip on Y/N’s hand tightened and the oldest sibling smiled down at him, “What’s wrong Dami?” The youngest gave a small glare through the lenses of the Robin mask, “I find your lies insulting and belittling, Y/N. The truth would be appreciated before things get more drastic.” 
“...Excuse me?” Y/N tried to remove his hand from Damian’s grip, and panicked when Robin refused to let go. 
“Y/N, please be honest. What happened?” Dick, in his Nightwing costume, rested his hands on Y/N's shoulders and tried to coax the truth out of the person he sees as his oldest brother. It only made the other tense, and tried to get out of Damian’s grip. 
“Guys, you’re scaring me.” 
“Y/N, what happened?” Bruce’s voice did nothing to ease the fear that Y/N was experiencing, and for the first time ever in the time he’s known the Wayne family, Y/N didn’t want to be around them. He struggled some more to get away from them, but with Robin’s grip on his hand, Nightwing’s hands on his shoulders, and Batman’s gaze keeping him in place, Y/N found it harder to move. 
Batman sighed, and with a nod that Y/N would have missed if he wasn’t focused on the man, Nightwing’s hand moved closer to Y/N’s neck. The other’s eyes widened, his one free hand moving to stop Nightwing. 
“Wa-”
“Good night, Y/N.” His vision went dark and the only thing he registered was a pair of arms catching him before his body hit the floor. 
++++
Y/N woke with a start, in a very familiar room, with raspberry painted bookshelves and dark sheets. His arms shot up to his face, and bandages rested on his cheeks. Looking at his arm and seeing the sleeves of his pajama pants, Y/N closed his eyes in misery and knew that if he were to lift the sleeves, there would be bandages. 
Sitting up, Y/N grunted and rested his forehead in his hand. 
“Oh good, you’re awake.” 
“Jay…” Y/N watched the other carefully, watching the taller and bigger man silently move across the room to sit next to him. His nose scrunched, “Your brothers and father have some explaining to do. Where are they?” Jason shrugged, “Out. Don’t worry about that, but Y/N, why did you hide this from us?” Y/N stared at Jason for a bit, processing the question and sighing irritably. 
“Cause it's not a big deal. This was the only time and–” 
“One time is still too many times!” Jason yelled, startling Y/N. Wide E/C eyes stared into Jason’s furious blue eyes, the slightest hint of green starting to slowly take over. Y/N gulped, “Jason, it’s fine. I am here now, right?” He reached out and grasped Jason’s larger hand, watching the other calm down with deep breaths. Those blue eyes of his seem to fall on every bandage across Y/N’s face, before looking back down at their clasped hands. 
“Everyone was a mess, you know that right?” Y/N chuckled at him, chalking it up to Jason being overdramatic, “You guys are too funny. I know me going radio silent wasn’t appreciated, but you don’t need to guilt trip me further.” 
“I’m not joking around, Y/N. Everyone was a mess.” There was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N pausing. His E/C eyes landed on Jason and watched how those eyes continued to glow green. The larger man took a deep breath and seemed to calm whatever raging thoughts he was having, “But it's fine now, because you are here.” Y/N furrowed his brow, but smiled nevertheless, “Yeah.” 
Silence overtook the room and Y/N is still unsure how to proceed. It wasn’t rare for the Batfamily to be a bit… dramatic. For fucks sake Bruce dresses as a giant furry and terrorizes criminals. However, there was something in Jason’s tone that had Y/N stilling. Contemplating his next words and wondering if they were the correct ones to say. 
“You’re awake.” Y/N’s head snapped to the door and standing there was Damian. He gave a smile to the youngest Wayne, “Damian, you're not one to usually enter without knocking.” The youngest strolled over and eyes Jason’s and Y/N’s hands, “I heard you two talking and figured it would be okay if I entered.” Y/N pursed his lips, “Well, true but Dami you should still–” 
“Father wants to talk to you, after dinner.” Green eyes met E/C and there it was again. A glint of something sinister lurking underneath the green. Y/N gulped and outstretched an arm. His palms up like he was approaching a dog, asking to pet it. Damian took the invitation and fell into Y/N’s embrace. Crawling onto Y/N’s bed and into the space underneath Y/N’s arm and against his chest, Damian nuzzled into the space with a content smile. 
Y/N felt his heart rate spike, something alerting him that he is surrounding himself with something dangerous. Which is preposterous. Yeah, Damian was a little psychotic and so was Jason, but they wouldn’t harm Y/N. They wouldn’t hurt anyone that didn’t deserve it. 
Yet, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. 
“When is dinner, Dami?” The younger boy hummed, “At 5:30.” Y/N glanced at the clock reading 5:25. Sighing, gently nudged the two away, “C’mon we have five minutes. Alfred will be upset with us for being late.” Damian grumbled while Jason outwardly expressed his discontent. When Y/N fully stood up, he noted that his clothes were different. 
“Who… who changed me?” Jason shrugged and Damian continued walking. Y/N looked back down at the sweatpants he was now wearing and the oversized shirt. None of which are his. 
“I-I should change first–” 
“C’mon Y/N, no one cares.” 
“Indeed, Drake has shown up before looking horrid. You look wonderful, like always.” Y/N said nothing to address those comments, but the time clicking on the clock had Y/N forgoing dressing and instead grabbing his house slippers. Damian was quick to grab his hand and Jason walked behind like he was protecting Y/N from something. 
The walk was silent, and there were some bruises on Y/N’s body that had him wincing sometimes. Nevertheless, when the sound of chatter began to echo through the halls, Y/N controlled his expressions and braced for the question and answers he wanted. 
“Well, look who finally woke up,” Dick joked and Y/N rolled his eyes, “I don’t want to hear that from the people who broke into my house.” He said it as a jest, but some part of Y/N wanted to mean every word he said. The three culprits didn’t even pretend to look guilty. 
Y/N gave Bruce a pointed look, he busied himself by pouring himself, Y/N, Dick, and Jason wine. Damian released Y/N’s hand to go sit at his respective seat, between Tim and Bruce, while Y/N took his between Bruce’s and Dick’s. Dick smiled at him, “Happy to have you at dinner. They have been quiet for the past few days.”
“If that is your way of saying I talk too much Dick, may I remind you who is the reason we had to enact a five minute quiet period during meals before.” The man laughed, unbothered by that little fact being thrown into the air. 
Dinner continued with the usual chatter, arguments, snide remarks, and dirty looks. Y/N’s absence was barely brought up, and instead he got filled in about what he missed while he was radio-silent. No one questioned the bruises on his face, or the now open secret that Y/N had tried to keep quiet about. 
“Y/N, please see me in my studies.” Bruce gently squeezed Y/N’s shoulder and Y/N followed, thanking Alfred as he did so and waving to all the brothers. The walk was tense, and something kept stirring in Y/N’s stomach that he was walking into something dangerous. Not a trap, because a trap means Y/N didn’t see it or feel it coming. However, he can feel this one. He can feel this one coming, something that would have his life changing, and yet he still kept walking forward. It’s the Waynes. His family. 
They wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like. 
Bruce’s study was as dark and aesthetic as Y/N remembers. A dark oak wood desk, bookshelves, the laptop and monitors, and papers. Y/N rarely set foot in here, mainly because there was never a need to, but he remembers being young and playing hide-n-seek in here with Dick. 
Bruce turned and gently cupped Y/N’s bruised face, turning it slightly to take in each discolored patch of skin and open wounds. Y/N smiled, “Bruce, it’s fine. I’m fine. You and everyone else are just being overdramatic.” 
“Is that what all of this is? Us overreacting?” Y/N gave a nervous chuckle at Bruce’s tone, one he’s heard when the man was Batman. 
“I mean, considering you broke into my house, that seems excessive.” Bruce released Y/N’s face and walked behind his desk, and motioned to a stack of papers. 
“Y/N, if entering your home is considered excessive, then I don’t know how you are going to handle this.” 
“Break in, Bruce. It was a break in, and what are you talking about?” Y/N picked up the paper, and quickly scanned the document. Bruce watched the color drain from Y/N’s face and horror take over those bright E/C eyes. They flickered from the top of the page back to the bottom, and then to Bruce and back to the paper. 
Y/N’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form words he was desperate to say. 
Wayne Enterprise Acquires L/N Industries
Bought. Bruce bought L/N Industries. Bruce bought the company from Y/N’s father, because Y/N isn’t the owner, and there is no way in hell that Y/N would have ever signed off on that. His mother’s company, now just a part of the Wayne monopoly. 
“Wha-what is- Why- Bruce! Bruce, what the hell is this?” Eyes filled with betrayal and anger as Y/N glared at Bruce. The man sighed, “It is as it says. L/N Industries in now under Wayne Enterprise-” 
“But why?! You’ve never shown any interest in the company.” Bruce wasn’t interested in L/N Industries. Wayne Enterprise was not a monopoly, and they didn’t buy companies unless that company was already going bankrupt. Bruce was interested in Y/N’s health, and vengeance. 
“Don’t take it personally, because it's not at you.” Y/N rolled his eyes, “It sure feels like it. Bruce, you know what this company means to me, you can’t just–” 
“Well I did.” Bruce met Y/N’s gaze head on, “The company is not in your name, you do not reap the profits, this acquisition was not a jab at you.” Y/N knows who it's a jab at, and he understands why Bruce is angry. However, it does not excuse the fact that this was a jab at the L/N family. 
Y/N clenched his jaw, “There’s no way he just signed it over like that.” Bruce handed him another piece of paper and sure enough, there was his father’s signature. Y/N stared at the inked lines, wondering just how had Bruce gotten that signature so quickly. 
“Blackmail really makes people move faster than the Flash.” 
“Wha… what blackmail?” Bruce raised an eyebrow and Y/N closed his eyes in misery, “Bruce, I get it. I do. He’s not a good father, but you didn’t have to buy the company. He’s literally going to ret-”
“You and I both know he would never retire. You would be working to the bone for him while he reaps all the profit.” Y/N rolls his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something but Bruce cuts him off, “Do NOT roll your eyes at me! Y/N this is serious.” 
Momentarily taken aback by the tone of voice, Y/N stared at a fuming Bruce. He processed the reaction and felt the heat in his stomach return, “Excuse you! You literally bought my family’s company, kind of if not really kidnapped me, and broke into my home! I have every right to be upset, let alone roll my eyes at you.” 
“That place wasn’t your home and you know it.” 
“Doesn’t change anything! That's like saying a break-in at a hotel room doesn’t count because the person doesn’t live in the hotel room.” Y/N could feel his heart rate pick up, and the reality of it all began setting in. 
“Holy shit. Fucking hell Bruce.” 
“Language.” 
“Do not ‘language’ me! Bruce, what the actual hell! All of this is way out of proportion for what happened.” Bruce slammed his hands on his desk, making some papers fly and the cup holding his pens fell. Blue eyes filled with rage glared at Y/N, “You can’t even say what happened! He hit you, Y/N. He beat you like a dog, and animal abusers still go to jail. He’s getting off with only losing the company. 
“And I know that those bruises are the only ones we do see!”  Y/N glared at Bruce, fighting back tears and biting his lips. Bruce sighed, his shoulders deflating and a pained expression on his face. He walked around the desk and hugged Y/N, bringing his son close, “Y/N, I’m sorry. I am. You’ll still be running the company, and will have a final say in things. It's just… God, Y/N. Not hearing from you and then seeing you like that...” Bruce took a deep breath, trying to control his emotions, "It was terrifying, Y/N. How could I let you stay there when all of that was done to you?"
Y/N wrapped his arms around Bruce, ignoring the feeling of dread of doing so. He ignored how Bruce’s arms tightened around him, “Oh Y/N, please. Please stay here where you are safe.” 
He didn’t want to admit that it sounded more of an order than a request. This was Bruce! His father in everything but blood and paper. 
“Just… just please don’t do that again.” 
“It won’t happen again. I promise.” 
______________________________________________________________
Not a whole lot of Yandere, but thats why there will be two parts! Not just one.
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acid-ixx · 3 months ago
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a loving family, an unpalatable desire
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.
imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.
you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.
you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.
really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.
yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.
the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.
but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.
you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.
yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.
you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.
you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.
maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.
and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.
''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.
and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.
you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.
your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—
it's everything a parent wants, needs even.
and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.
so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.
a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.
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nosyrobin · 8 days ago
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Teddy bear!reader who’s trapped in the Wayne household.
Teddy bear!reader who’s practically some weird cuddly entity that resembles a teddy bear with a human form
Teddy bear!reader who has to endure all the venting, ranting the batfamily has to tell them. They can’t help but frown as it starts to get draining.
Teddy bear!reader who’s always hugged when seen. They can’t get out of the tight hold the boys get them into to. Even Bruce doesn’t let them go easily.
Teddy bear!reader who has a chip in them, shocking them when they don’t keep up the “happy bear” facade. You’re supposed to be the cute teddy they love.
Teddy bear!reader forced to be into human form so one of the boys can take them out and spoil them. But it’s only to show others that you belong to them if you somehow escape them.
Teddy bear!reader who’s starting to crack. The cuddly teddy is starting to be a grizzly bear.
————-
But that only stops when you get shocking pain in your neck. You roar, clawing at your own skin and fur. You transform between bear and human. Dick frowns as he hold the controller down. Damian could only hold a scowl watching his beloved animal act out.
Jason sits watching you beg for the pain to stop, Tim could only smile. Bruce has a hand on Dick’s shoulder. He squeezed it seeing you about to pass you. Dick stops the shocking pain.
You whimper, holding your arms. You feel your claws poke your own bruised body. Bruce kneels down, lifting your head as you flinch at his touch. “Our poor teddy….” He says lowly, he shows pity more than guilt.
It makes you sick as you try and roar at him, growl. Anything. But in the corner of your eye, you see Dick ready to press the button. You immediately stopped trying to fight. “You seem cranky..” Bruce says, he then helps you sit up as Damian moves by his father.
“Father, maybe it’s time for them to eat some honey?” He questions.
Honey…it’s not honey. It’s a drug to make you loopy. To make you obey them. To make you happy and do anything they wish to do to you.
To make you their perfect little teddy bear.
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A/N: UH OH??? DID I EAT? OR DID I EAT🗣️‼️
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yandere-writer-momo · 2 months ago
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This is more Harvey Dent centric, because I’m obsessed with him. So here is a part of something small, I can’t guarantee y’all make another part. I also noticed a trend with a neglected reader, so I wanted to do something different. I love the idea, and I might explore that in the future, but I wanted to do wife who was disinterested in Bruce. This is mainly a self indulgent piece. I hope everyone enjoys.
Harvey Dent would be so delulu. Fight me if you disagree
Yandere Batman Short Stories: The Heart Wants What It Wants
Yandere Harvey Dent x Married Fem Reader x Yandere Bruce Wayne
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The chirping of birds filled the autumn air as Bruce sat at the dinner table in the Wayne Manor. His blue eyes studied the elegant figure of (your name) who enjoyed the breakfast Alfred had made.
“There’s rumors going around that you’re close to Harvey Dent.” Bruce’s fist clenched around his silverware to the point his knuckles turned white. His gaze narrowed at his plate.
“I do work at the legal office with him, Bruce. We’re coworkers.” (Your name) sighed as she rubbed her temple from the already oncoming headache. She’s been the Distict Attorney’s assistant for a few years now, so she wasn’t sure why it was an issue as of late… “Harvey is a really nice guy-“
“So you two are on a first name basis?” (Your name) sighed at Bruce’s jealousy. He had never been much of a fiancé prior to marriage and now he was a jealous husband. It made no sense to her since he had always instilled in her, since childhood, that there would be no romance attached to this arranged marriage their parents had set up ages ago.
“Bruce, I truly think you’re overthinking this. Harvey is just a really amazing friend.” (Your name) sighed. “If this is about the Wayne family image, you have nothing to worry about-“
“He’s in love with you.” Bruce’s blunt statement effectively cut her off mid sentence.
“Excuse me?”
“Mister Dent is in love with you.” Bruce repeated it as if that would magically make her understand his assessment of her coworker.
“What makes you think that?”
“The way he looks at you.” Bruce’s blue eyes are like a tropical storm of emotion at the moment. “You’re my wife.”
(Your name) sighed before she placed her silverware down and rose up from her chair. She cast Bruce a glare.
“On paper. There’s no romance involved in this arrangement, remember?” (Your name) walked through the door as she headed to her room to finish getting around for work.
Bruce sighed and put his forehead in his hand. He hated his younger self for what he had once told her… because he no longer felt that way.
.
.
.
Harvey came over to (your name)‘s desk with a bag of pastries in his hand.
“Good morning, (your name).” Harvey gave her a warm smile as he set the bag down in her desk. “I bought some muffins if you’d like one.”
(Your name) gave Harvey a weak smile.
“You’re always so sweet. Thank you.” (Your name) picked out a banana muffin, her fingers brushed against his for a brief moment.
“I think you deserve more sweetness in your life, (your name).” Harvey gave her a charming smile before he grabbed the bag. His blue eyes lingered on her for a few seconds longer than what was comfortable before he went to his office.
Harvey shut his office door before a blush enveloped his cheeks. Their fingers touched… god he was so pathetic. (Your name) was a married woman. Harvey couldn’t even have her… she had her fate chosen for her since a young age. One that he could not interfere with.
Harvey picked up his double sided coin off his desk as he absentmindedly flipped it. Would she have even chosen him if they would have been able to have a life together? Harvey didn’t have the same wealth as Bruce, but he would have been able to buy them a beautiful suburban home… give her a few children if she wanted them. The standard, American white picket fence life.
Harvey gazed at the files on his desk for his next, big case. (Your name) was truly a skilled and organized assistant, one he was grateful for. The two of them had worked so many long nights together on this… all for their mutual goal to better Gotham.
Harvey couldn’t help that he had fallen in love with her… he just wished she’d see his feelings. That they were soulmates- he was so corny.
Harvey was so pathetic for the way he felt about a married woman… but he knew she wasn’t happy. That it was all an arranged marriage. A union her parents forced on her.
Harvey could treat her infinitely better than some cold, Playboy billionaire. he would never run around on her, nor would he ever make her doubt that he had nothing but love for her.
(Your name) deserved to be pampered like a princess. She deserved soft and gentle… something Harvey was.
It was just such a shame he had been hearing strange voices in his head… perhaps they were merely auditory hallucinations from the stress of this upcoming case against the Falcone family?
Yes… that was it. Harvey Dent wasn’t a madman. He was a normal, upstanding citizen. The district attorney! Harvey “Apollo” Dent.
He was not crazy… even though he kept hearing a raspy voice in his head that wanted to snatch up his assistant for his own. She needed to be properly claimed and ravaged.
Harvey was just too scared of his own mind sometimes…
.
.
.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Bruce always recalled memories of a younger version of (your name). Back when she still made an attempt to get close to him. To the times she’d visit the manor to check on him since he was always ‘brooding.’ Bruce appreciated the gestures but never outwardly expressed it.
(Your name) was always so kind and sweet… yet he didn’t want to fall in love for fear she’d leave him or she would perish. Bruce now saw this logic as flawed since another man was now in the picture.
Bruce would be damned if he let a man like Harvey Dent snatch up what was his.
.
.
.
(Your name) was surprised her husband waited for her when she came home. She sighed when Bruce came to help her remove her coat.
“What are you doing?” (Your name) didn’t even put up a fight when he gently slid the suede trench coat off her shoulders.
“Can I not help my wife take her coat off?” Bruce asked with a quirked brow. (Your name) hated when he’d act like a doting husband. He was never interested before so she wasn’t sure why it changed now.
“You’ve been odd… or are you afraid I’m going to run away for some fantasy love affair?” (Your name) laughed at the expression on Bruce’s face. “You’re joking… you can’t possibly be jealous.”
“So what if I am?” Bruce asked softly. “Feelings can change.”
(Your name) sighed once again. “Bruce, I’m not interested-“
“Is it because of Dent?”
“No. It’s not because of Harvey.” (Your name) glanced at him. “I… I just haven’t no interest in romance with you.”
“…” Bruce remained silent for a moment before he pulled her into an awkward hug. “Let’s work on it then. I won’t push you away anymore… let’s make this real.”
(Your name) furrowed her brow in confusion but she didn’t put up much of a fight. She was too tired to argue.
.
.
.
(Your name) sat in her office as she watched the news. Harvey had a huge case against the Falcone family… the two of them had worked on his case together for months on end. She was hopeful the Falcone family would finally be knocked off the map… but she was horribly wrong.
(Your name) audibly gasped when she saw the reporter loudly scream and explain that Harvey had just been attacked. How was she attacked? It was a court room…
Turned out, his witness, Sal Maroni, threw acid on half his face. What kind of monster would do that?!
(Your name) rushed up from her desk as she grabbed her coat. She needed to get to that hospital and quickly, Harvey would need all the support he could get.
.
.
.
Harvey woke up with a start when he saw he was in the hospital. Agony consumed his entire being yet he couldn’t understand the warmth he felt inside him- (your name)?
Harvey was shocked to see the beautiful young woman beside his hospital bed in a chair. Her other body draped on the mattress, her fingers into locked with his. Had she… spent the night? Was there a possibility she loved him too?
Harvey’s fingers brushed a few pieces of hair from her face, his breath hitched at the contact. This wasn’t a dream… yet neither was his accident.
Harvey felt a sense of pride fill him when he saw that her phone vibrated with notifications from her ‘husband.’ He wanted to gloat in the other man’s face but he was more concerned about his face at the moment.
It couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like (your name) would hate him… she loved him. That’s why she came to be with him… and he’d make sure she knew just how much he adored her too.
.
.
.
Bruce slammed his fist into the wall, a small hole now there like a centered frame. Why wasn’t his wife answering his calls? She was supposed to be home yesterday. We are on this green earth could she be?
Bruce angrily ran a hand through his hair, his fingers tugged a bit at the black strands. There wasn’t a possibility that she was with Harvey right? She told him that she wasn’t interested in Harvey that way… he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that ate away at his mind.
He needed to find (your name) and fast. Bruce had a sickening feeling that she wasn’t safe… he needed to save his wife.
.
.
.
(Your name) stirred awake to find Harvey with his fingers in her hair. Her brow fur as she set up, her lips drawn in a thin line.
“ Harvey? Are you all right? I didn’t mean to fall asleep…”
Harvey shook his head to reassure, the bandages obscured his handsome face from view. There was no doubt in her mind that his face was permanently destroyed from the acid.
“I’m… I’m here.” Harvey gave a dry chuckle. (Your name) could tell he was on a verge of a mental breakdown. One of his eyes was twitched while his hands shook. She couldn’t bear to see such a wonderful man completely fall apart when she was there to catch the pieces.
“Harvey… come here.” (Your name) held her arms wide open for him, the man melted instantly. His arms wrapped around her like the coils of an anaconda. His grip was tight and escapable as his body was sob.
Harvey couldn’t say a word as he held her like a lifeline, but there was only one thing that was clear in his mind… she loved him too.
It had to be fate that she felt the same way… now all he had to do was get her to leave her husband and be with him. Where she belongs.
The heart wants what it wants…
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hana-no-seiiki · 8 months ago
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Idk, I really can't think of anything good. Maybe some jealousy and possessiveness?
Or some fluff? The idea of ​​the two of them being on the roof of some building just-.
But I also find the idea of ​​Reader having a habit of entering into the Batboys' rooms tempting.
Do what you like the most,
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YANDERE! DAMIAN WAYNE x CAT VILLAIN READER
“Hey~”
You sang as you laid on your side. The light from the dozens of candles you placed across Damian’s room subtly illuminated your form. Rose petals equally littered the area.
“You.” Damian cursed himself in his head. He was frozen to the ground. The tremble in his voice was something he could only pray for you to ignore.
“Mm, me.” You stuck your tongue out, licking some chocolate off of your fingers. “Welcome back home, Da~mie.”
“How did you get into my room?” Damian tried his best to appear threatening or even disapproving at the very least. Anything to hide his excitement.
“Alfred let me in.” You answered nonchalantly, patting the area in front of you as a beckoning gesture, “The cool old guy, not that little feisty one.”
Damian fought the urge to acquiesce to your whims and stood still. “I saw you. I saw you and Jason together last night.”
“Did you get a good view?” A small part of you felt bad that Damian saw you do the hanky panky with Jason, but it wasn’t your fault the man was so insatiable when it came to you.
“You used to date Dick, you regularly engage in filth with Todd, and Drake won’t stop talking about you it’s so obvious he’s smitten. Damn it, I know even father would let go off his morals for you even if he doesn’t show it. And yet you find the time to do all this. To be with me.” Damian took a step forward, anger finally allowing his nerves to thaw.
“To talk with me.” He took another step and another. Reminiscing of your rooftop trysts. The longing looks you two exchange when you fight. The way you made him laugh and smile. The way he felt so normal yet so excited to just be around you.
“To embrace me, to kiss me, to . . . make love to me.”
He remembered your first kiss. The one you two shared when you saved him from a powerful adversary that he admittedly was too distracted by thoughts of you to even fight back with the usual skill and levelheadedness that was drilled into him for almost two decades.
“Do you even love me? Or is it just physical attraction - lust - that you feel?” He stands in front of you and the bed.
You sat up, “Does it matter?” Your hands grabbed his, massaging small circles for a moment or two before you pulled him into your own form.
Damian closed his eyes, reveling in your warmth.
“No.”
It wouldn’t matter, whatever you do or whoever you see
because to him, only you are the one capable of consuming his heart and mind.
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darkstaria · 5 months ago
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Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.
Chapter 4:
Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 5.
This chapter is brought to you by myyyyyyy🎉birthday🎉 woohoo 🥳 I hath aged
It's a little bit shorter, but I mean come on it's a unique chapter soooo it's cool guys I swear
Lots more Batfam content this time, albeit Tim centric. I'll balance it out in the future I swear! Also it's still platonic, but you could probably get a romantic reading from this a lil bit if you try
Taglist: @moonchild-artemisdaughter @jjsmeowthie @madine11-blog @xxrougefangxx @hadesnewpersephone @neerathebrightstar @mel-star636 @jaythes1mp @rosecentury @lov3vivian @gaozorous-rex-blog @victoria1676 @vrsin @silverklaus @ryukyuin @kurai-hono-blog @thisisafish123 @isawyourbrowserhistory @ain-t-no-way-bsfr @realifezompire @lunaluz432 @nickey-diano @sukiiluvs @sara0055 @alleakimlala @kdidgg @paperhermits @lavender-moony @alishii @emmbny @sirenetheblogger @fantasy-angelo @andrasia @vinnvinnvintage @nyra-42 @armystaysatnct @beyond-your-stars @starsdotalk @adeptusxia0
----
A few days have passed since your encounter with Red Robin. He hasn't shown up since, but another thing has.
Your work had sent you an email. An invitation to Wayne Enterprises, to represent them. According to them, your location was the closest to Wayne Enterprises, and so you were selected. You lived 50 minutes away from Wayne Enterprises. Their home office was 30 minutes away. You weren't sure who was doing the math here, but they needed some more practice.
That being said, you could notice a pattern when there was one. This was Tim Drake's attempt to get you out of your home. And unfortunately, it was going to work. You needed your job. It was perfect, remote, didn't bother you as long as you got the work done. Jobs like that were rare, especially in Gotham.
Not for the first time, you kinda felt like crying.
If Red Robin, your soulmate, was indeed Tim Drake, then what was this? Did he have you figured out? Or was he continuing the investigation?
You didn't know...
Refusing to show up would get you fired. There was no way around that. But, what if you couldn't go?
What if you were too injured to go? There's no way you could fake something, the bats are quite literally master detectives. That and your soul animal form would likely reveal the uninjured truth.
Maybe if you injured yourself?
No, no no no. That was a bad route to go down. If this meeting is to check whether you are soulmates with him, a matching injury on your soul animal form would be like a criminal and a suspect having the same tattoo.
There wasn't really any option here. Which, really, is just typical for the vigilantes of Gotham.
"Ughhh." You groaned to yourself, cradling your hands with your head. You glared over at Red, who had been showing up much more frequently these past few days (which was saying something, since all your soul animals were already by you 23/7). Red gave a small chirp in reply, some sort of smugness in its tone.
Maybe it was time to invest in wind chimes or something. You heard they can scare off robins.
You felt like you were going to need it.
~ ~ ~ ~
Tim's developed something of a guilty habit.
It wasn't a bad thing, per se. Nothing B would particularly frown at. Dick might even agree.
He imagined you wouldn't quite feel the same, though.
You looked especially fragile, as you slept. During the day your face was haunted by false bravado, a paranoid edge to every smile. Sleep smoothed out the lines of your face, giving a softer touch to your slumbering form.
You frown when he reaches out to poke your cheek. It's cute. His hand twitches for his camera. You're always cute, whether it's a small little frown on your face or beaming joy.
He's developed a new favorite activity. Alongside solving cases, he's now watching you. He wants to observe it all. From little habits to obvious passions, he wants to know everything. Hobbies, skills, loves, DNA. He'd only just found you, the answer to the mystery that he's been in since birth. He's had a lot of time to build up this obsession.
He wants and wants and needs. He can wait to take.
You are a light sleeper, but he's a quiet stalker. You don't always drink milk before bed, but when you do, you'll get a little more tired than usual. Your groggy face is cute, too.
He reached out, stroking your hair with the slightest of a smile beginning on his face. It was soft. It reminded him of you, your soul animal form. It had flinched away from him earlier, as it always does whenever they were in uniform. Finding that you do the same as a human wasn't so surprising.
They had adapted to your soul form’s skittishness. They could do the same again. His mind briefly flashed through some ideas, an ankle bracelet, a watch, a collar? If it was on the ankle, you'd match.
He broke out of his musings at the shift of movement. A flutter of wings. B’s soul animal flew down perching on a piece of furniture nearby as a vantage point. He smirked. Looked like he wasn't the only one feeling a little possessive tonight.
He must've been thinking of you. Not surprising, given that your soul form was scheduled time with him today. They had to work out a schedule, else there would have been a lot more stabbings. Not that it didn't prevent sudden abductions occasionally, thanks Jason.
That was fine though. B could have you tonight, Damian could have you tomorrow, Dick the next. Because Tim had the real you, right here.
And he wasn't planning on letting go.
There's a room he's preparing inside Drake manor. He’d put your name on it, but that would be too obvious if anyone came around. Instead, it would be his little secret with you. He's only just met you, but he has plenty of ideas for it already.
He didn't feel guilty for this. Not at all.
You were his as much as he was yours after all. If there was a problem with these feelings, then why would fate itself tie you to him?
If anything, the only guilt he’d feel is not telling anyone else. He couldn't help it, he just wanted you to himself for a while. He caught you, so he was allowed to have you.
But was that really guilt? Or just annoyance at the idea of getting caught?
An alert on his communicator made him frown, taking him out of the trance he had felt into. There was more he had to do.
A shame, but it was fine. He got to spend some quality time with you, taken a few things for the future. He’d make more time. And you'll have all the time in the world for him. But first…
Tim withdrew a specialty camera from his utility belt, raising it to his face. He adjusted a few settings, then…
Snap!
~ ~ ~ ~
You fought the urge to yawn. You have been so sleepy lately. You had to wake up especially early for today. Lovely.
At least today was the moment of truth. You'd show Red Robin for once and for all that you were perfectly normal, and not at all his soulmate. He’d lose interest, and your life would return to its domesticity.
The one good thing going for today was that you're somehow accompanied by none of your soul animals. A truly rare occasion that is ruined by the fact that you're instead visiting a soulmate in the flesh. If any of your soul animals do show up, you have your old reliable bag to shove them into. So, you should be alright.
Wayne Enterprises was a terrifying image, but you steadied yourself with the fact that your whole life’s freedom was at stake here, which was much more terrifying. After that you could get through the door. Security just letting you through after giving your name almost had you running out the door though, you'd admit.
The elevator ride was long and solemn, giving you time to think about everything. Maybe you should think about moving, staying in Gotham was perhaps a ridiculous sentiment to begin with. It was a shame though, you were a Gothamite through and through, you didn't want to leave the country your parents lived and raised you in.
Still, perhaps it was time to leave. Things were getting too risky. Thinking about it, Wayne Enterprises? Honesty what even was your life.
The ding of the elevator door interrupts your musings, an assistant directing you to Tim Drake’s office.
As you walk over, you can't help but listen in to some shouting coming from the room.
A younger voice is yelling. “Give me them! You do not deser-” The voice gets cut off, as an older voice yells back. “It is my turn, you do not get to just steal them!”
The younger voice starts up again, but so does the older voice, alongside what you can only presume to be fighting noises.
You just kinda stare at the door. You are a working professional, representing your company to the prestigious Wayne Enterprises. You came here with lofty expectations and responsibilities to fulfill. And the CEO… is fighting someone in his office.
You have no idea what to do.
A minute passes.
You started to think about signaling an assistant to come help, but before you could do so the fighting seemed to end with a shouted “Fine! But B will hear about-” you can't hear the rest, as the shouting returns to a normal volume.
A door is opened and slammed, footsteps retreating away from the office. You take a moment to appreciate the fact that Tim Drake’s office has two doors that lead in different places, because it means you didn't have to meet whoever he was fighting.
A second or two later, the door in front of you swings open. Tim Drake is facing you, his hair a little askew, and his cheeks a little red. He smiles, an easy thing. It's as if the sight of you brought it to his face.
“Welcome!” He waves you in, somehow not acknowledging what you just heard in any form. The objects in his office are perfectly aligned. Nothing looks disturbed at all. How?
He waves you over to a chair, settling into one himself.
“Well.” He begins. “It's nice to see you again, Y/n."
You hope this goes by quickly.
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