#yandere catwoman

[acid-ixx]

brutus: both arms cradle you now (villain au concept)

ft. yandere! harley quinn (brief mentions of the poison ivy and catwoman) x gn villain! reader

— masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

"so, you're saying you hate the batman, for personal reasons, cupcake?"

you've never expected to have a therapy session with one of your mentors who took you in.

harley quinn, the girl who took you into her abode right after she found you bloodied and laying in a crimson bath of your own one faithful night; death your only comfort.

she, alongside her other company, are well-known people within gotham's criminal gallery. she's known to be obsessed with her ex back then, chasing after his toxic love despite hers being consistently thrown away, she's been seen fighting, or even sometimes helping your father when he's wearing the cowl just to find the joker, she dons clown makeup and displays athletic talent for combat—

she's not the type you'd expect to be well-versed with a person's mental health, with her playful attitude and bouncy steps, but with the way she notices your uncomfortable body language whenever you stumble upon the bat, or how you simmer in silent rage watching him care for his vigilante partners during times they get injured; you'd have to admit she's more than qualified to ask you sensitive questions nobody ought to ask a violent criminal like you.

you don't know it, but you share far more similarities with the girl than you thought; chasing after love never once reciprocated, she has every right to know what makes you so triggered seeing the vigilante every damn time he's within the vicinity.

she has every right because she's the one who saved you when you thought your life would be all over.

when you believed that that day would be the time your soul would leave your body, you'd suddenly awoke to her gentle coos and her retelling her company on how she stumbled upon you. and another woman's palms are on your heated forehead, an unnatural shade of green, yet she helps swipes away your hair for your head as she listens intently to harley's story; she gazes at you just as softly as the other. she's seated right beside a familiar face, too, with cropped, jet-black hair and cat-eyes. it was her expensive duvet that you lay on.

it was there that they coddled you collectively.

they've been your saviors then, and your mentors ever since. it's what you've never asked for, to be cared for by criminals who fought on the opposite side from your fathers, but you've been craving affection your entire life that you'd never once complain about.

now, in the same apartment, her question lingers in the back of your head, you feel goosebumps rise on the topmost layer of your skin, and your heartbeats hasten against the cage of your chest.

despite that, she merely looks over at you, her eyes held a calculating gaze. it's not exactly nerve-wracking like batman's whenever you had your occasional encounters with him, but you can tell she's psychoanalyzing every aspect of your being.

like a therapist for most, but to you, she does so because you know she cares.

gone was the ditzy smile she likes to wear on her playful lips, or the active, bouncy lilt she has whenever she sits upon the swivel chair to talk to you. she stares at you, with piercing blue eyes and furrowed brows, nitpicking every reaction you conjure.

it seems like now's the time she wants to open up with such a sensitive topics.

especially right after the incident where you cried after watching batman speak to the youngest robin, with the sweetest, most poisonous tone you've ever heard from the man. it makes you want to vomit watching it, makes you wish to shrivel outside-in your costume and burn until you're mere embers.

you ask yourself, 'do i hate him?'

truth is...

god, you wish you do. but you're different now.

you have new people to care for you, now and you'd rather throw away that heart wrenching life you had back in the past. batman is nobody to you now, you wish you could lead yourself to believe that he was just your usual opponent, nothing more, nothing less.

yet you merely shift on your cushioned seat, ignoring the blaring telltale signs in your head to stay silent, and reply to her albeit the unsureness in your tone. your words taste bitter, sour, salty, and no way sweet. every unpleasant flavor swirls in your tongue in a cacophony of emotions; and you wish to cry the longer you speak, tongue-tied and wishing to will away the ache in your chest.

"i don't hate him, harley, at least not anymore... it's different, i don't know what to feel about him. maybe it's rage, maybe i want to exact petty revenge on him because of my past with him. don't know. it's all complicated..."

"if it's not hatred, then it's something else, no? you feel something deep within for him, don'tcha, sweetheart? you can't lie to me, you're hurt, and scarred, because of him and his other vigilante partners, i can tell."

she replies, quicker than you do, with empathy and comfort laced in every syllable of her words, and you're taken aback at the kindness and understanding. your eyes flutter away from her worried ones, and you look down to your clenched palms and feel the callouses from all the harsh training you've conditioned yourself to endure, dismissing the way she stands from her chair to walk over to you.

hurt... that's true. you're hurt, and all the emotional scars that lay within you are still open, bleeding, and it aches deeply. every time you build new memories with these people, the pain of the past overpowers whatever improvement you make in life; as if it's haunting and taunting you.

when she kneels down to the level of your lap, just right beneath your vision so you could see her beyond the layers of hair that cover your watery eyes, you see her soft gaze and find her dainty fingers holding your palms, ones you didn't notice dig nails deep into skin until the rivulets of blood escape.

when she squeezes your hands, you follow along the patterns of inhaling and exhaling through her squeezing, a silent session with her to help you calm down from your foreboding emotions; your hastened breaths and brimming tears. you've been so used to ignoring all your emotions that you forget what panic attacks felt like in so long, not until you discover that you've been having small bouts of it every day; not until you realize how it's always your mentors comforting you through every one of your silent sufferings instead of ridiculing you for it.

"calm down, cupcake... i just wanted to know why, so i, alongside the girls, could help you through your emotions. what type of mentors are we if we can't help you, no? you've been so tense lately, we couldn't even see your cute, little smile these days. so don't forget you're still allowed to cry, sweetie... let all your emotions out, 'kay?"

she speaks, with a gentle timbre in her voice, and you allow her to embrace your form, one you didn't realize was shivering until now. yet you still bury your head further into her body without shame and allow yourself respite for once; allow yourself autonomy to be controlled by repressed pain and sorrow you've tried to bury deep into the marrows of your bones and the cages of your heart.

and now you realize why, why you're all crying all the same like last time, and you simply cry for longer at the realization.

because what contrasts with love, was indifference, and never hatred. you once loved batman, bruce, with all your heart because you're his kid, and your momma taught you to love without any expectations. but he sees you with indifference, with nothingness. no care, no emotions or opinions about you, unlike harley's who holds you in her arms and comforts you throughout your lengthened crying.

he doesn't even look at you. the thought bothers you more than ever.

"it's— you're right," you whisper through your hiccups, burying your head further on her stomach as her right hand plays with the strands of your hair, scratching your scalp in a comfortable pattern. she hums as a reply, and allows you to continue.

"i'm hurt, harley... it's so painful just thinking... thinking about how much i'm in pain because of him... but he's, he's—"

"shh, you don't have to force yourself to open up anymore, sweetheart."

when she releases her hold on you, you let out an embarrassingly loud cry, hands swiftly trying to pull her back to embrace you; too desperate to let go, too paranoid that this is all a dream, you wish to sink into her warmth forever.

but she holds you back, just as quickly with her warm palms at your wet cheeks, and looks at you. like you're her savior, her peace, and her everything.

her next sentences satiate the foreboding hunger in your heart, one too starved, one that craved and wished to take what it never have.

she feeds you with love and affection too sweet that it rids the bitter taste in the back of your throat and the bile that slowly rises every time you reminisce.

"i get'cha, sweetie. you wanted something from him you can never have, and when he didn't give you that, it destroyed you entirely you felt like you can never pick yourself right back. been there, done that—"

"—but look at where we're both at now! living the best of our lives, doing fun, risky heists and making ourselves happy with what we think is good for us, no? you get where i'm getting at, right?"

you don't. you feel like melting into her hands and never leaving. she gives and you take, take, and take everything she offers you.

and she knows you don't understand, so she continues rambling knowing you'd grasp into every word she says, not once breaking eye contact with you. she stares fondly, you gaze back reluctantly, unaccustomed to the affection your mentors shower you with. but you don't pull back, she becomes sad and sulky when you do.

you want her to be happy.

"sweetheart, i'm telling you the past is past! get him away from your mind and throw all the thoughts about him away! if you were nothing to him, then he should be nothing to you, easy as pie."

"you deserve better people in your life, like me, and pam, and selina. i can tell you're rough around the edges but that doesn't mean you should strip yourself away from any privilege to be cared for and loved for by people who love you as much as you love them. he's nothing to you now, alright? it's painful, but you can move on from him. i trust you can— you know why?"

harley questions you, with all the confidence in her tone, taking your head to lay it on her body again, positioning it so you could hear the buzz heartbeat, you bury yourself deeper into her warm body and nuzzle into fabric. your heart hastens, but it wasn't panic, it wasn't even fear or hurt, but a drive and motivation that burns deep inside of you; that this is what you always wanted, and needed to protect, and what she generously provided.

all her words echo through your head like it's the truth, your holy grail.

"you have us now, sweetheart. to love, to guide, and to protect you. we're everything you need now."

and you believe her like she's god.

just this once, you do. you're allowed to hope, to dream, and to finally feel special. to be embraced like the fantasies you had in the past, to be held and comforted through every gut wrenching experience, just as she does, now.

for once, you allow yourself to be loved, even if it means it's by the same hands that stain itself with blood, all shed in the glory of your name.

a/n: happy halloween! i was laying in bed and suddenly had thoughts about this. i don't like this drabble at all ngl erm 😭 this post is related to events prior to the out for blood chapter (idk if i should make it canon to the plot or not) and what i said in this fanart post. despite this not being my favorite piece of work, i like writing about other charactersn too though, especially when they're so soft to the mc. so yeah! if you guys like more of this, please do comment since idk what to feel about this.

[gotham-daydreams]

The Red Dawn

Yan!Batfam × Cop!Reader

[General Warning: Reoccurring of suicide, May contain uncomfortable context such as mentions of cults, occult like practices, gore (mild mentions to heavy descriptions), blood, insanity, obsession - and general yandere behavior. You have been warned.] (Note: Unless otherwise specified, it's to be believed that actions involved with harming, hurting, or heavily injuring the self are not talking about the Batfamily or the reader.)

New trouble arises in Gotham as mentions of a 'Red Dawn' happening on Devil's Night spreads. With a take down of a small group leading into an even deeper mystery, it seems the Batfam must dawn their masks and look into even the most darkest corners of Gotham - as something dirty, and potentially dangerous, is at play once again.

You, a transfer from Metropolis, are also following the case. Only time will tell what exactly will happen next, as this 'Red Dawn' is just over the horizon. As there are only 3 days left.

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

Day 4

Day 5

[Something to Note]

-------------

Trying something new in the spirit of Halloween while I get some things done, and also just trying to challenge myself a bit here :]

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

stepmom selina anyone?? anyone interested in some stepmom selina?? (me, i am)

i feel like selina would be such a girl mom but also i have this image of damian’s twin being like his opposite. sooo i think the dynamic between her and selina would be fun cause it’s like black sheep & white sheep.

selina would try and teach her the art of stealth and reader would teach her the art of idk friendship?? no but fr i feel like reader and selina would be such a fun duo. bruce’s girls tbh like they team up and they’re unstoppable. also can you imagine the boy advice selina would give? “yeah just steal one of his prized possessions and he’ll come after you. works every time 😏” like okay thanks queen! in terms of like yandere behavior, i feel like she’s one to plant the little seeds of doubt in reader’s mind about others. like “aw sweetie it’s okay, you’re way too good for them! you never do anything wrong 🥹.” meanwhile the person in question is filing for bankruptcy cause their valuables are gone.

barbara is so ‘cool older sister’ coded it’s actually insane. she’s incredibly smart and good with tech, plus she’s really pretty and cool as hell??? reader is like “hiii hello hiii ” and she INSTANTLY becomes her newest role model.

her like ‘yandereness’ would probably be similar to tim’s but instead of trying to keep reader home, she more so just watches her. like if reader wants to go to a party and it’s on a bad corner of town, barbs will give her directions to go to avoid the most trouble. probably the least likely to kill someone tbh i just can’t see her doing it.

okay i know that in the current run helena isn’t biologically related to bruce/selina, butttt idc i want her and the twins to be bio siblings. like it was reader and damian for so long and all of a sudden they get like 8 new siblings? it’d be pretty awkward for a while, but i think reader and helena would both really want a sister. so like while the others are great, i think they bond easy over being Bruce’s blood daughters and what that entails. especially since helena’s mom is catwoman (vigilante) and reader’s mom is talia (assassin).

reader and cassandra they were both raised by assassins so they probably bond over that and then how life is after leaving. it’s canon that cass can speak (which we’ve seen her do) but she uses body language instead of words. with this, i like to think that she can teach reader how to read people easier. you know, as a little bonding activity! also damian is canonically good with music (the violin specifically i believe), so reader is likely the same. so now just imagine reader playing an instrument while cass dances 🙏.

cass’s type of yandere is mostly just watching from the shadows. like reader brings a boyfriend home and cass is in the corner standing like mothman. if anyone does reader wrong TRUST cass will be kicking the hell out of them 🙏🙏.

stephanie, like duke, is the closest to the normal sibling experience one can get 😭 but tbh i see her as being more as a best friend that’s a ‘sister figure.’ plus i like stephcass so screw you that’s canon now. having improvised fashion shows at 4am, gossiping about everything and everyone (which she then tells cass but shhhh), having self care days like that’s her bff! with steph i feel like she’s not the type to actually attack anyone directly, but instead just telling cass and/or tim about whatever (or whoever) it is reader is having problems with. now if they’re patrolling together and reader gets attacked? yeah she’ll beat the other person up! (or at least get a couple hits in if reader already took care of it)

now that the fam is written for, please please please send any requests y’all wanna see! romantic (outside the batfam ONLY!!! no sweet home alabama here) or platonic, feel free to send an ask or leave a comment!

heyyyy… heyyyy…. how yall doing….? 😔😔 sorry for disappearing buuuut thanks so much for sticking around! sorry if this part doesn’t quite live up to the other two but somehow the girls are harder to write for?? i hope i got them but honestly any criticism would be appreciated. also i kinda skimped over the yandere part for helena so sorry abt that😭. might go back in and change it but who knows.

also i’ve been fixated on conner kent for some reason???? that’s my pookie guys yall dont get it.

anyways love love LOVE yall so much bye byeeee ❤️

[anxiousnerdwritings]

*Shitty!mom!Talia al Ghul exists*

Jokerized!Twin!Reader’s other yanmoms (+multiverse yanmoms):

[helpfandom]

Analysis on YANDERE PLATONIC TAS Batman Villains. Pt 1.

THIS IS NOT THE NEW ANIMATED SERIES. Strictly ONLY The Animated Series.

Villains:

MR. FREEZE

RIDDLER

CLAYFACE

POISON IVY

MAD HATTER

CATWOMAN

What I am using as the archtypes: https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share YANDERE_AUXILLARY made it!!!!

I find it so curious that people neglect Platonic as a yandere version, {not to say that I am a pioneer, no no no, but rather that people don't write about it as much as romantic.} And so, here is my analysis on various TAS Batman Villains. Of course, this is part one, as there are many TAS villains. I just need to get to them.

Also, side note. Thank you TAS writers for already making Mad Hatter a yandere so now I have less work to do.

Mr Freeze: Now, he is the yandere type of Obsessive, Overprotective, Clingy. He found something else to focus on, and it happened to be you. Reader would be more of the friendly type, more outgoing for Mr. Freeze to have such an obsession with them. He wouldn't stalk you as much, more so just an immediate kidnap the next time he sees you. Most likely catalyst for his yandere swap would be dealing with the loss of his wife. He lost his wife. He won't lose his kid too. Maybe Reader was there to help, or maybe he saw his wife in you. No matter what it was, as soon as there is an obsession, he wants to keep you. You're screwed as soon as it began. He's overprotective, constantly hovering over you. "I've lost too much. I won't lose the last thing of my wife, too!"

Riddler: Hmm... His yandere archetypes for platonic is... Possessive, Delusional, Sadistic, and Self-Indulgent. His egotistical personality, tied with an obsession with a kid who is unafraid to throw hostility back? Not a good pair for Gotham. In his mind, to not be afraid of him, or to throw hostility back at him, must mean that you like him. And with his intelligence, how could you not? His catalyst, well, there isn't really a catalyst per say, more so he was already obsessed with beating Batman and being intelligent, so why wouldn't he be obsessed with someone who can challenge him? He's more of a stalker type, only kidnapping when Batman and Robin get a little too close to you for his comfort. You're just like a little him, well you have to be taught by the best, most intelligent, and that's him. "Well well, my dear child. You seem to have escaped, but I'm sure you know that you won't be out for long..."

Clayface: He is... Clingy, Manipulative, Impulsive, and slightly Sadistic. He would be obsessed likely with a theatre kid, or someone who enjoys the fine arts {So an Art Kid, Band Kid, Choir Kid, etc.} He would see that and miss the days when he could do that, when he could act or enjoy the arts. Because he can transform his shape into anybody, he transforms himself into people close to you, of course he stalks them ahead of time so that he can properly assume their character, but he quickly kills them off so he can assume that role in your life. If it was a friend who had a crush on you, he enjoys watching the life leave their eyes. How dare they try to ruin your potential with their desires? He uses someone in a position of power, too. Likely a teacher, or if you have a director? Boom, suddenly you have the main role, or a solo, or you won the first place in an art competition. Who knows what kind of a catalyst would be there, all I can tell you is that BOOM! You're being kidnapped by someone you trusted deeply. You watch your former mentor's skin droop off of this, this person, who's kidnapping you, revealing a rocky, clay texture. Clayface. "Heya kid, you already slipped up and called your teacher Dad, so I know you can for me too. Here, would looking like them help?"

Poison Ivy: Her yandere archetypes are Overprotective, Clingy, and attempts to be Manipulative. Delusional, but yet Lucid; She has delusions about Reader, but not in the 'ah, yes. Reader loves me too.' She would be a little apprehensive at an uncaring Reader, after all, if you're not for plants, you must be against plants. For an uncaring Reader to work, Reader must be a plant lover. Poison Ivy would see this, and suddenly everything makes sense. She assumes that Reader puts up a fake persona so that Reader can care for plants in their free time, so that no one knows that Reader loves plants. She loves that about Reader, and that's why she gets obsessed. She wants to keep the only other plant lover in Gotham and protect them against the cold, cruel world. She would originally try a sporeling, but she misses the real you so that plan fails and that's why she would kidnap you. "Come here my Rosebud, the world is cruel. Let me be your mother, like Mother Earth."

Mad Hatter: His characteristics are Delusional, Self-Indulgent, Overprotective, and Clingy. Who truly knows why he started to care for you? Perhaps you reminded him of someone a little too much... Nevertheless, not what we are here to focus on. He would not be a stalkerish type, but he would delude himself into believing you love him like a father. He would not be afraid to use his mind control on you. As soon as he manages to get you under his control, you're screwed. You're gone from Gotham forever. He has been shown to be willing to do it before, with Alice. I think he would be willing to do it until he gets you to the safe house which looks a lot like one of the sets for Alice in Wonderland... He would be overprotective, scared that Batman would take away his kid, take away the few things in life he loves. "NO NO NO! Batman simply cannot take away my child too!"

Catwoman: She is Clingy, Manipulative, Impulsive. She has been shown to be someone with a ton of money, {Paying $10,000 dollars for a charity that she loves, a lot of money, period, but also for 1992} So I feel that she would be willing to use that against her kiddo, saying that it's okay for Reader to use her money, and then guilt tripping Reader {who, realistically, wouldn't give a shit, but I digress.} Into staying with her to pay off the debt. Her clingy and Impulsiveness is because of when she was involuntarily transformed into an animal, some things stayed the same, and now that she found her cub? Even Batman can't fight a wild animal for her kid. "Lioncub, why are you worried? Mommy's got enough money for the both of us."

[yanderes-galore]

Could I request a yandere arkhamverse catwoman concept? -🎂

Yes! Catwoman could be fun to write ^^ I used the Arkham wiki for her personality and appearance but this could probably go for any Catwoman. Takes place during no specific game.

Yandere! Arkham!Catwoman (Selina Kyle) Concept

Pairing: Platonic -> Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Flirtatious behavior, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Blood, Protective/Possessive, Violence, Forced relationship.

Selina seems like she could be an interesting but docile yandere.

I say this as compared to most DC yanderes originating in Gotham she isn't really violent.

She is neither villain or hero and goes her own path.

While most would kill to keep their darling to themselves, Selina does not.

As a whole she avoids fatal force, stating she isn't psychopathic.

She steals things, that's how she's survived in this world.

She doesn't need murder to do it.

Like the Harley concept you requested I'm going to explore her going from platonic to romantic.

Selina isn't that bad of an ally when she decides to help.

Maybe how you meet is you're someone who helps Batman.

As in, maybe you're part of the Bat family in someway or just an ally.

Not necessarily as a hero, you could be a detective or something similar.

That way you and Selina would have crossed paths multiple times.

You are aware of the history Batman has with Catwoman.

Despite her being a criminal she can be helpful as a spy.

As a result your communication with each other may be sharing information to aid Batman.

Selina is a naturally flirtatious yandere.

As a platonic she could be teasing but would hold her flirting off for Batman.

Selina seems like she'd be okay as a friend with you.

Things between you primarily starts with exchanging information or small chats.

At first you're hesitant to converse with her.

Yet she eases your worries with her charm.

She'll be well behaved when you speak, she promises.

Your friendship with each other is strictly business related for awhile.

Nothing forced, it's mutual, especially when you two start to speak more outside of business.

Soon you two start to interact away from Batman.

You try not to let Batman know that you've become friends with the burglar.

Honestly, a friendship with Selina seems relatively normal.

She has a tendency to show up at strange times to speak with you as friends.

You could say she's stalking you... she is but she'd never tell you.

Selina is someone who plays her cards right.

She doesn't mind taking risks when it comes to you, like how it's a risk to hunt you down after a robbery.

Especially if you are an ally of Batman.

She picks her words around you and is manipulative at times.

As a friend she'll be simply looking out for you.

When she has time after one of her clients she'll hunt down your location and just watch.

If she feels up to it she prepares a conversation and meets up with you.

She's mostly the type to watch over you and doesn't drag you into many things.

She tries to respect your personal life and give you privacy.

But if you're out and about then... surely you won't mind if your friend follows, yeah?

You won't notice her anyways.

It's when she develops the more romantic type of feelings that she can become more intense.

Selina would be an intense romantic yandere.

Her friendly teasing over time becomes playful flirting.

You try to tell her to knock it off but she doesn't entirely want to listen.

She's stubborn.

Her occasional feelings of wanting to jump in to help you turns into something more sadistic.

Now she feels like getting her claws bloody for those who try to take what she feels is hers.

Speaking of taking what's hers, Selina would be on the more possessive side as a romantic yandere.

Cats can get rather territorial, no?

Plus, maybe she's even had eyes on you since you two became friends.

The perfect jewel for her collection...

She just loves jewels.

If someone threatened you she'd step in regardless of how she feels.

Sometimes you have to get your claws dirty... but she'd never kill them.

Batman can do whatever he wishes with them, she's done what she wants with them.

While Selina isn't the most violent Gotham yandere, she'd certainly kidnap you.

She's a thief who takes what she wants.

You happen to be someone she wants once she realizes she loves you.

She stalks you from the darkness for a long time before pouncing.

She apologizes for betraying her trust but hopefully you forgive her reasoning.

Even if you didn't, she doesn't care.

Once she has you she's flirty yet caring.

She confesses the reason she hid you away was because she loves you.

She isn't sure why she didn't see it before.

She'll keep you in a room lined with her favorite pieces.

You look perfect in the middle on that bed she's picked.

She'll even steal you a few gifts to give you.

Her little treat to you....

She even admits she's been jealous of the people you're around at times.

She wishes she made them blind with her claws.

Essentially, once she has you she confesses what she's been doing since she's known you.

She should've done this sooner.

It's thanks to her you're safe and thanks to her that you were able to help Batman.

She feels there should be... compensation?

She didn't really wish to resort to manipulation and kidnapping...

But the cat knows what she wants when she sees it.

You're the best prize she's stolen yet.

"Oh, baby, don't give me such a look. You've skillfully stolen my heart, it's only fair I get to have you in return, isn't it?"

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

BUT, I LOVE IVY.

( 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖨𝖫𝖤𝖱𝖲 ) !?

pairings ⸺Poison Ivy x Batsis! Fem! Reader

(Slight) Yandere! Batfamily x Anti-hero! Fem! Reader

This is a Headcanon!

sinopsis ⸺ When you left home, your whole life began to take on color. It wasn't an immediate change, more like those afternoons when the sun sets slowly, painting the walls with a golden light. You didn’t have a great job, you were barely getting by with what you earned, and the apartment you found had more cracks than solid walls. But somehow, none of that seemed to matter.

What filled you was freedom, that new feeling of not owing anyone an explanation. And then, there was her. Pamela, with her easy laughter and restless gaze that always seemed to be searching for something, found you. You didn’t know when it happened, but suddenly, she became the center of your small universe.

You didn’t need anything else. Her gestures filled the voids, her presence taught you to enjoy the silences. She wasn’t perfect, nor did she pretend to be. And maybe that’s what captivated you, that sincerity she had when she let her words fall, without disguising them. Life wasn’t easy, but with Pamela, the complications seemed less important, as if the chaos in which you lived became a soft melody, one you only understood when she was near.

After all, you were free, and you had her. And that, you thought, was enough.

warnings ⸺ Fluff, Girls Kissing, Dark Themes, Dead,Religion, murdering, Disturbing Content, Discrimination, Street Fights, Suicide, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, NSFW, Sexual Content, Smut, Addiction, Trauma, Phobias.

A/N ── Here’s a headcanon of Ivy x S/O because I saw that you liked it, and since things are going to take a darker turn in the next part of Silly Little Bat, there won’t be time for romance and all that, just pure angst. This is a little gift for all your support, and thank you for encouraging me. Marceline loves you ♡

Two hearts on the floor.

One Mine,

Both Yours ♡

When you and Pamela met, you had just left the nest and were trying to become independent with trembling hands but a heart full of enthusiasm. You had landed a job at a nightclub, Super Babes, where the owner, after examining you closely, insisted that you looked like Batgirl. Without asking many questions, you found yourself wrapped in a cape and tight mask. "It's the uniform," he told you with a smile that tried to be convincing. "You'll get used to it."

What you didn't get used to were the long nights, the incredibly uncomfortable heels, and the salary that barely covered rent. No matter how kind your coworkers were and how punctual the boss was with paychecks, the math didn’t lie: sooner or later, you were going to fall behind on rent. The landlord, a man with a furtive gaze and hands always too busy on his belt, only heightened the feeling of suffocation.

The solution came with the idea of finding a roommate. After a couple of failed encounters with people who smelled like trouble or, at best, minor inconveniences, Pamela appeared.

The door opened, and she stepped in with the same calm one has when entering a private garden. She was somewhere between twenty and thirty, although, according to her, "she had just recently been reborn." When she said that, you took it as a metaphor. Later, you would realize that with Pamela, it was almost never about metaphors.

"I like the place" she said, surveying the tiny living room with a smile that seemed charmingly sincere to you.

"It has a view of the... street" you replied, trying to compensate for the lack of natural light with your enthusiasm.

She laughed, and you noticed she had an easy laugh, the kind that makes you feel comfortable instantly. Pamela wasn’t the first to respond to the ad, but she was the first decent person. And also the first to make you feel those butterflies you thought were reserved for novels.

Days passed, and gradually, what began as a quiet coexistence transformed into something more. The work nights became less burdensome when you knew that returning home would mean finding Pamela there, with a cup of hot tea in hand and some ironic observation about life. Her voice, her gestures, began to blend into your routine, and the space between you filled with something neither dared to name.

You discovered several things about her, but never in the order you would have expected. It was like finding a novel written on scattered papers, without a clear beginning and too many endings. You learned about her deaths, yes, those that left her with invisible but deep scars, caused by the betrayal of those she once called companions and, more cruelly, by human hands, those fragile hands that paradoxically carried infinite violence. She confessed to you that this life, the one she shared with you, would be her last. There would be no more resurrections, no more spectacular rebirths under fiery skies or endless vines. This life, she said, she wanted simple, almost vulgar: to be an average citizen, nothing more, nothing less.

And then it was her turn. She also learned things about you. Not everything, of course, but enough to look beyond your sporadic smiles. She knew, for example, that you had been abandoned by your adoptive family, left adrift in a house too big for your small hands. She knew about your degrees, yes, those that hung on the walls like empty trophies. She knew about your skills, those that alternated between the delicate and the violent: the dexterity of your hands, the music that flowed from your fingers, and the echo of combat that marked your skin like a second score. She also knew about your unusual desire: you wanted a bat as a pet, something as solitary as you, something that didn’t need the sun to live. And above all, she knew you didn’t want children, never, because your childhood had been too long a scar, one you didn’t wish to replicate in another life.

You both shared secrets like one drops breadcrumbs in the forest, knowing that in the end, neither would seek the way back.

Summer arrived, bringing with it a warmth on Gotham’s nights that didn’t seem to belong. As if the city, always shrouded in shadows, allowed for a moment the air to be filled with laughter and light-hearted jokes. You went for walks in the park, trying to match your pace to hers while the world continued its course around you, oblivious to the little bubble that seemed to envelop you when you were with Pamela.

But the spell broke, as it often did, abruptly. Two boys crossing the opposite path looked at you with that disdain that can only be understood from ignorance. “Look, more generic lesbians” one said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Damn, the other one looks like her sugar baby." Your heart sank with a dull thud, an echo of old fears that you could never quite bury.

Pamela noticed instantly, her attention as subtle and sharp as leaves in the wind. Without saying anything, she took your hand with a firmness that held you, not just physically, but emotionally. Her smile appeared, scornful, a gesture stronger than any word. She knew, she had always known, that you weren’t quite used to dating girls, much less with boys looking on from their comfortable blindness. She understood that every stranger's glance was for you an ajar door to the past, to that corner where doubts flourished like weeds.

But for Pamela, weeds were just another form of life. And with a gentle flick of her fingers, vines surged from the ground like green serpents, wrapping around the boys' feet and dragging them away without fuss, as if the very earth were reclaiming them.

"Wow" she said with a barely perceptible smile as she guided you toward a nearby ice cream cart.

She bought you an ice cream, one of those ridiculously themed ones, a "bat-cream" that seemed a gentle mockery of the bat that hovered over your life. And as you licked it distractedly, you felt the pressure in your chest slowly fade, swept away by the sweet taste and the comforting sensation of her hand still intertwined with yours.

Christmas was a revelation. Not because it was a holiday in itself— you had always been indifferent to those blinking lights and persistent carols— but because it was the first time you truly felt that love was not merely a concept written in books or whispered in songs, but something you could touch, almost feel, in every little gesture of Pamela, or rather, Pam, or Ivy, as she insisted you call her. And you, with that mix of disbelief and happiness that overwhelmed you, discovered in her something you struggled to find anywhere else in the world: refuge.

That Christmas also came with a kind of unexpected family. Harleen, who had recently left behind the clown prince of crime, appeared one afternoon like a whirlwind of laughter and jokes, treating you like a little sister from the very first moment. "You know, I had a hyena, did I tell you? I named it Bruce. After the hot playboy in the magazines. Is he your dad? You have to introduce me!" she said amidst laughter, and the remark drew a chuckle from you. There was something ironic and sweet about the most chaotic woman in Gotham making those kinds of absurd connections.

Selina was different. Her arrival was stealthy, like the shadow cast by a feline before it strikes, but there was no attack. On the contrary, from the moment she crossed the threshold, she looked at you with an almost maternal softness. "I met your mother," she said at some point during the night while cradling a glass of wine, and you could barely process those words. You didn’t ask more; it wasn’t necessary. In that gaze, you knew everything. Selina adopted you without saying it, with that blend of authority and tenderness that only she could conjure.

And then there was Pamela. Your Pam. Your Ivy. She was the center around which everything revolved. In those cold, bright days, everything in her presence felt perfect, a secret choreography only you could understand. She would kiss you before you left for work, always soft but with the promise of something more, something waiting for your return. And when you came back, there she was, dinner ready, always with a sermon on the wonders of protein and how vicious herbivores were. "They're worse than carnivores" she insisted with a smirk. "Grass-eaters are no better than hunters. Just trust me."

She stayed with you through every emotional crisis without fuss, without grand dramatic gestures; she simply was, and her presence made the shadows dissipate, as if her mere existence in your life was enough to bring order to your internal chaos. And she, for her part, found you fascinating. She adored you, in a way that was almost reverential, as if you were that little Bat she never thought she would love. She called you that, "my Bat," with a mix of tenderness and mischief. She knew you were small, tiny, fragile in appearance, but beneath that shy surface, she found something that intrigued her, a strength that made you unique in her eyes.

"I love you" she told you one night as she watched you from across the room, a barely formed smile on her lips. "You're so shy... but there's something in you that could change the world if you set your mind to it." And it wasn’t an empty declaration. She, more than anyone, could see what others didn’t.

Pamela didn’t just adore your shyness. She adored you, in all your forms, in your doubts, in your small acts of bravery, in every instance you faced the world and returned to her, seeking refuge.

Despite the happiness, Gotham was not always a kind place. During an outing to a music festival, the two of you became the subject of uncomfortable stares and whispers behind your backs.

However, those moments of mockery were followed by nights of hugs and laughter on the sofa, where you both sat together watching movies while you tried to find comfort in the stories of heroines who saved the world.

Life went on, and although there were moments of joy, there was something in the air that was changing. When you turned 19, you began to feel restless. One night, you went out to work, as always, with your heart full of love for Pamela and the promise of a future together. But that night, everything changed. The city was dark, and the fog seemed to have a life of its own, wrapping around you in its icy embrace.

Days and weeks passed. Pamela tried to contact you, but there were no signs of you. Desperate, she began searching for you all over Gotham, consulting her friends, Harleen and Selina. However, each attempt to find you turned into frustration and anger.

When things grew darker, Pamela became hysterical. The idea of losing you consumed her mind. But her methods were aggressive, and every lead she followed turned into a dead end.

One night, in her frenzy, Pamela confronted Batgirl, better known to you as Cassandra Cain, trying to get answers. But her erratic behavior led Batgirl to take drastic measures, and without knowing that Pamela was only searching for her sister, she put her in Arkham. The doors closed behind her, and as she fought against anxiety, the question kept echoing in her mind: where were you?

Fate had played a cruel card. While Pamela faced her own prison, you remained lost somewhere in Gotham, the echo of her name resonating in your mind like a siren's song you could not answer.

On Monday night, there was something different, a pause in the routine that allowed you to breathe more slowly. You had finished early, which was almost a luxury in Gotham. Sitting on the couch, with a forgotten tea on the table and a movie that Harleen had recommended—a romantic comedy directed by Jamie Babbit—you let yourself get carried away by the light dialogue, although you remembered the name of the director more than the plot itself. The dark green nightgown you had found at the bottom of the drawer seemed like the perfect choice for that night of respite, an old lace that had survived the test of time, as if its wear carried with it a hint of nostalgia.

"You dressed to tease me" Pamela had once said, half-laughing and half-serious, when she saw you in that garment that, in her eyes, had a spell to it. The truth was that you hadn’t planned it; that night you just wanted to be comfortable, to sink into the softness of the couch and the lethargy of the movie, but Ivy's words always lingered in the air, as if she knew something that you barely sensed.

You were halfway through the movie when you heard the familiar sound of the door opening. Ivy walked in, and the weariness on her shoulders was visible from the threshold. She moved with that natural elegance she had, but there was something heavier in her stride. Then you saw it, the bruise that hinted at her cheek, diffuse, like a shadow that had misplaced itself. You knew what it meant: another day in Gotham, another confrontation, another battle against something or someone. And yet, she said nothing, as if the pain were part of the atmosphere, something mundane that didn’t deserve to be named.

"Tough day?" you asked, your voice breaking the silence she had brought with her. Pamela didn’t respond immediately. She let herself fall beside you on the couch, her warmth enveloping you instantly. Her eyes, always green and alive, roamed you from head to toe, a spark ignited at the corner of her lips.

"Not more than usual," she finally murmured, with that mixture of weariness and desire you recognized so well. "But you... you make everything feel better." Her fingers brushed the edge of your nightgown, just a gesture, but enough to change the tone of everything in the room.

The bruise on her cheek did not diminish her strength in the slightest. On the contrary, there was something in that small imperfection that made her seem even closer, more tangible, as if for a moment, the green goddess she was had allowed herself to be human too. Her fingers slid down your arm, soft, but with the firmness you always knew would come, like vines seeking to wrap around every corner. The air grew dense, and the movie became a distant murmur, lost among the shadows of the room.

"Do you know you drive me crazy with that nightgown?" she said, leaning toward you, her voice low and husky, as if dragging behind it the echo of a desire she had been holding back all day.

"Like this?" you replied, trying to sound innocent, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed you. Her hands were already on your waist, drawing slow circles, and the skin under the lace seemed to awaken at the touch, as if that caress were an order your body could not refuse.

Pamela smiled at you, that smile she reserved only for moments like this, intimate, private, where the masks fell away and what remained was just the shared desire. She leaned you toward her, and her warm breath mingled with yours, a barely perceptible space between both bodies.

The bruise on her cheek, the battles of the day, all of that faded when her lips touched yours, soft but urgent, as if in that kiss she wanted to reclaim lost time, the hours when she hadn’t had you close. Her hands moved with an almost mathematical precision, knowing exactly where to touch, where to press, how to make every inch of your skin respond to her will.

"You don’t know how much I needed this" she whispered against your mouth, her voice laden with a vulnerability she didn’t often show. And you, tangled in her warmth, in the weight of her body against yours, knew there was no place in the world you would rather be.

The green nightgown had fallen into oblivion, like words fall away when what matters is the language of bodies, that secret language that is spoken without being said. The whole world reduced to the space you shared, to the softness of her fingers gliding with deliberate slowness, as if each touch were a note lingering in the air. The movie, the hours passed, the murmur of Gotham outside, all dissolved into the present, into the synchronized breathing you shared, into the soft moan escaping your lips when her hands found you.

Pamela knew how to move in your body like someone walking in a garden that belongs to her; every touch was a root seeking fertile ground, every kiss, the rain awakening the dormant within you. Her lips found yours at the same rhythm as her fingers, now beyond any fabric, exploring that intimate space only she knew, that only she was allowed to discover. There was no hurry in her movements, because time, in those moments, always played in favor. Each caress, each calculated pressure, was as if she were tracing an invisible map over your skin, and you, lost and found in her hands, could only respond with the silent surrender of one who neither knows nor wants to resist.

Your legs, slightly apart, invited her to continue, to mark her territory in every corner of your body. The soft brush of her fingers on your swollen lips felt like a promise, a promise you knew she would keep, and your hands, now on her neck, tangled in her red hair, were a call to the depths, to that place where words could not follow. And when her lips parted from yours, just for a second, to gaze at you with that mix of desire and devotion, you knew that in that look was everything you needed to understand.

"Doctor Isley..." you whispered, and in the echo of that name, in the way you pronounced it, there was a surrender she recognized immediately. The smile that appeared on her lips was almost feline, satisfied, as if with that title you gave her something more than your body; you gave her the power to be whoever she wanted to be for you.

"Oh~ I like that," she replied, her voice husky, laden with desire, as her fingers, skillful and sure, began to move with exquisite precision over your core. Each touch, a small fire, each pressure, a promise fulfilled.

The air around you grew denser, as if the heat between you could ignite the room. Your breaths, ragged, mingled with whispers you no longer recognized as yours. You were an extension of her, and she of you, two bodies that recognized each other, that knew exactly how to find each other, how to lose themselves in one another without fear.

Pamela, with her lips tracing your neck, with her warm breath sending shivers down your skin, disarmed you with the ease of someone who has learned to read your silences, to understand your needs before you even did. And you, in that surrender, in that slow but inevitable dance, felt safe.

Her lips, soft as the murmur of leaves in the wind, ventured across your skin, tracing a secret map where each kiss was a promise being fulfilled, slowly, without haste. Each caress, each brush, was a silent pact between two souls that had found each other amid the vast loneliness of Gotham. And you, surrendered, were no more than a whisper in her hands, a murmur that was born and died between her fingers, between her lips.

Pamela descended slowly, with a devotion that made you tremble, her lips drawing invisible paths, leaving a trail of warmth and anticipation that coursed through you entirely. There was no urgency in her movements, only a deep love manifesting in every kiss, in every contact that seemed to say: here I am, and here I will stay. Her tongue, like an echo of her soul, found your core, that hidden place you barely knew yourself, and caressed it with the precision of one who knows every secret of your body.

The first touch was soft, almost reverent, like someone caressing a flower that has just opened to the sun. Your legs opened in an invitation that needed no words, and Pamela, with the tenderness she always had, let her mouth delve into you, exploring with infinite patience. Her tongue, which seemed to paint entire landscapes on your skin, touched you where you needed it most, with that mix of desire and tenderness only she could offer.

Every movement was a symphony, a perfect note resonating in every fiber of your being. Your body, still inexperienced in that type of pleasure, responded with little spasms, as if you were learning to feel for the first time. And amid that joy, amid the sighs and tremors, there was something deeper, something beyond desire: a fondness that enveloped everything, a certainty that in those moments you were hers, and she, without saying it, also belonged to you.

Pamela was not rushing; she knew true pleasure was not just about the body but the soul connecting in those moments of deep connection. Each time her tongue sank into you, each time her lips brushed your skin, you felt something beyond physical pleasure: you felt the love of a woman who knew you, who cared for you, and who, in that moment, loved you in a way you had never experienced before.

Your hands, trembling, clutched at her hair, as if seeking to anchor yourself to reality amid that sea of sensations. And as the rhythm of her caresses increased, as the pleasure grew within you, you knew that in that instant there was nothing else in the world. Just you, just her, and the love unfolding in whispers and soft moans.

It wasn’t just her tongue making you tremble; it wasn’t just the pleasure coursing through you in increasingly intense waves. It was the way she looked at you between each kiss, as if you were the only thing that truly mattered.

Your body shook, and the world faded away in a silent explosion, a cascade of sensations enveloping you completely. There were no words, just the echo of your ragged breathing and the warmth of her mouth still on you, claiming every part of that climax that overflowed you. Pamela, attentive, savored your ecstasy with the same devotion that had brought you there, collecting every little tremor, every sigh that escaped your lips.

Her eyes looked at you with a mix of satisfaction and tenderness, and you, with your heart still racing, knew that this was the closest thing to a confession of love you could have in that moment. Pamela loved you in that shared silence, in the brush of her skin against yours, in the way her tongue had traced a path to the deepest part of you.

But you couldn’t let the moment end just in your satisfaction. With a slow, almost feline movement, you slid between her arms and gently pushed her onto the couch, your hands already seeking the curve of her waist, the firmness of her hips. Pam looked at you with that gaze of hers, always so confident, but in her green eyes, there was a spark of expectation. She knew what was coming and accepted it with the same tranquility with which nature receives the rain.

Without saying a word, your lips found hers in a deep kiss, filled with that mix of gratitude and desire that now consumed you. Your hands roamed her body, learning her contours, every nook, every curve she allowed you to discover. You moved slowly, following the trail her lips had left on you before, but this time it was your turn to make her tremble, to return everything she had given you.

Your fingers glided over her soft skin, slowly stripping her of any barrier that remained between you. And when your lips reached her core, you paused for a moment, just to look at her, to see how her eyes closed with anticipation, how her lips parted in a sigh you already knew. Nothing more was needed than that gesture. You knew, in that instant, that she too surrendered to you, that she too was giving you something deeper than her body.

You began with a softness you knew she would appreciate. Your lips and your tongue traced slow paths, circles that became more and more precise, as you listened to her little moans, feeling how her body relaxed under your caresses. There was no hurry. The only thing that mattered was that moment, the space between you filled with whispers and shared breaths.

Pamela arched her back, her fingers tangled in your hair, and in that gesture, in the tension of her body, you knew you were bringing her closer to her own limit. And though there were no words, though the silence was only broken by her sighs, love was there, in every touch, in every slow movement of your tongue that made her tremble more and more.

"Y/n..." her voice was barely a whisper, as if saying your name were the only thing she could do at that moment. You needed nothing more. It was the signal you had been waiting for, the last vestige of control she was handing over to you, trusting, surrendering.

You continued, deeper, slower, taking her to that place where words no longer made sense, until finally, with a tremor that coursed through her entire body, Pamela let herself go. Her breathing became erratic, her back arched one last time, and then, amid that silent explosion they shared, you knew that she too had arrived.

When you finally pulled away, you slowly moved up, leaving kisses on her still warm skin, until you reached her face. She looked at you with that tenderness she always had, and without needing to say it, she made you understand that in that instant, in that space of love and pleasure, it was just you and her.

Just you and her in the world.

A/N ─── Bro, it’s super long, don’t mess with me 😭. It’s my first sapphic smut, have some patience! Honestly, I could have made it longer, but I was in panic mode like “Is this too much already?” and I freaked out, haha. This is my little gift for those who ship Poison Ivy x Reader (Silly Little Bat) because, spoiler alert, something not-so-nice is coming soon 👀💔. So enjoy while you can, because things are about to get intense... you better thank me! 😅

Don’t forget, if you want to request something, the shop is open!

Take a bath!

[auroreliis]

Hi auro!!!!! I love your platonic batfam posts and I was wondering what do you think the batfamily would do if reader liked being around selina more than them? Is reader even allowed near selina or are they scared she might be a bad influence lol

To be honest, I think the whole family dynamic would be fixed if Selina was the mother figure lol

Yeah, so assuming Selina and Bruce are in a relationship, everything would be fixed.

Selina would be your safe space. (Just as a note: If Selina wasn’t in a relationship with Bruce, I don’t know if you would ever come in contact with her.)

Now, if we are assuming that Selina hasn’t fully redeemed herself (i.e. she is still a thief), then, her relationship with Bruce would be rocky, meaning that you sticking to her could work in your favour. For example, if she had an argument with Bruce and left to stay the night somewhere else, you could convince her to take you with her.

Since Selina’s relationship with you is better than the Batfamily’s relationship with you, she trusts you enough to take you outside.

Now, Bruce and the rest are going ballistic. WHY would she let you go out?

This would spark an argument.

If you complain enough to Selina, but make it clear that you are willing to stay with her, she would likely take you with her and leave Bruce lol.

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Claws

《Stray/Catlad!Jason Todd / Reader》

-

Smiling brightly, you happily walk beside the dark-haired boy. He pays you mind, head in a book, ignoring you. A scowl on his face as sound of your foot-steps copying his.

Sighing, he closes the book, pausing, waiting for you to say something. His attention fully on you.

"What." He asks plainly, glancing over your love-sick smile as you happily hold two tickets in your hand. "Hi Jason! I just wanted to know if you would want to go too a movie with mw this weekend?"

Eyes brimming with hope, you watch him frown deeper.

"Can't. I'm busy with work."

"Oh! Well, that's okay. Maybe-"

Jason pockets his book, heading to his bike as he hops on. Putting on his helment as he starts the engenie and drives off.

"...Aw man..." You sigh, deflating as you look at the tickets. Noticing in the corner of your eye a cat themed book mark on the floor.

Picking it up, your face warms up as you beam at the written initals on the back.

"Well, theres always next time! Hmmm.. Maybe I'll pass this tickets to Bruce.. I don't wanna tell Dick though. He'll probably get upset.."

You hold the book mark close, skipping along home.

-

Turning away from the night sky, legs swinging back and forth on the ledge. You overhear a grunt, you glance down. Seeing a fight down below. Catwoman scratching at Batmans chest with her claws as he grits his teeth.

There goes a calm patrol...

Getting up, you feel a hand grab yours, twirling you around, your body bumps into a familar chest...

"Panther..."

You said politely, rolling your eyes with a smile. Taking a step back as you look at him with slight caution.

"Heya Purr-ity~!" He says snarkly, licking his lips as you turn away.

"Eyes up here." He states, grabbing your cheeks. His claw like gloves digging into your face as you gaze at him doe-eyed, scoffing. Swatting away the hand, the wind becomes stronger as your tickets fly out from your pocket.

Damn! You forgot to leave them in your civilian clothes!

Eyes widening, you try to grab them, but was beaten to the punch..!

"Huh... Didn't know you liked the books." He mumbles.

"Well, kinda. I got into them recently and saw the movie was coming out..."

You recalled Jason throwing his copy of the book at you after you spooked him on accident. Hoping to ask him out to a cafe together, instead, you got a free book and a bruised forehead.

What luck!

"...And you coincidentally had two tickets.."

"Yeah? I was gonna' give them to Batman instead-"

The male laughed, throwing his head back at the idea of Bataman watching a romantic historicall fiction movie. All in his get-up as he grumbles nonsense.

"Yeah, no..." He smirks, holding the tickets tighter. "No way he's going to do that! Sides', who he'd go with? Catwoman? Yeah, instant rejection." He says dryly, shrugging his shoulder. "Even those Bird-Brains know better to give that to their Boss."

He mentioned Nightwing and Robin, shrugging.

You sneakily try to grab the papers back, yet he easily dodged.

"Guess' you and I are going."

"Wha-?"

You feel him pick you up, slung over his shoulder. Half-expecting him to throw you. Instead, he starts running as he carries you!?

-

Jason Todd in this Au, is succsessfull in stealing the wheels off the bat-mobile. That catches the attention of certain cat-like thief. So he becomes her protege. Super Easy.

I headcanon Jason being kinda closed off in his Au, but slowly becomes more open. He's happier in his own little world with his books and Selina's multiple cats.

-

"Panther..? No.. Move! Move please! Move you stupid cat! Panther!"

Pushing away the thief, the sound of a crowbear smashing into your sides rung in the desolate area. "AUGH-!" You scream, Joker laughing as you fall and crash into one of the shipping crates of Joker-Gas.

"..Purrincess..?" Panther spoke slowly, the nickname a bit bitter on his tounge, more fond of Purr-ity. Yet it meant nothing now, no sweet familiar giggle. Nor playful banter..

Instead, horrible laughter.

In this Au, Jason doesn't die. But hates Joker in general. While.. Heroine(Y/N) doesn't suffer OG Jasom Todd fate..

Possibly, but super close calls.

Also, made up a small au where she has a Ric Graysom situation, so a possible idea too. Dunno, I wont decide.

"D'aww... How sweet! Give it up for lovers!" The clown cackled as the henchman stare in horror. Blinking out of his shock, the thief snarls in a animalistic manner. Yelling as he grab one of his guns, pointing at the head of the stupid clown.

-

"Wow..! Ears! So cute!" You said in awe, wearing your civilian clothes as the thief grumbles. Looking away, not bothering with you. Even when you and the other, "hostages" sat as Catwoman snagged the musem jewlery.

You sweat a bit, not partically used to his cold shoulder. Often him hogging your vigilante time instead.

-

Pressing a soft kiss on your knuckle, you eye Jasons bloodied hands worriedly. Sure, you adored the contact, but you were worried.

"Thank you, for your help- B-but your hurt!" You make sure your hands cup around his. Worriedly glancing around for a bandage or calling one of the officers.

Protective Nightwing Lol.

"Don't worry, (V/N)! Got one of the paramedics right here!"

You pout as Nightwing gets in the middle of you and Jason. Pushing the health care hero between you two. The Big Bird ushering you to Bat's side.

[What?? More Batboys as Cat Thiefs?? Yes. Originally, i wanted to call him. "Alley-Cat", but found out there already was one! Anyway, yay! Comments and art are always wanted and appriciated!]

[rosemaryblossoms]

You say that I’m Weak, But I’m STRONG!

“Cogito Ergo Sum, I think therefore I Am.” -René Descartes. This post is based off of the Mother and Daughter Darling series by @fancyfeathers which I both love but frustrates me so much because I feel deeply for both the mother and the daughter darlings. This post is also based off of a scene from Tyler Perry’s A Madea Family Funeral. I hope you all enjoy this, merry Christmas -love Delilah aka @rosemaryblossoms.

Warning: language, angst, and maybe some out of character characters, I tried.

Pink: M/n’s dialogue.

Purple: Selina’s dialogue.

Green: Talia Al Ghul’s dialogue.

It was a gathering at Bruce Wayne’s Manor, y/n was glued to Alfred’s side, not wanting to leave the butler’s side though he was more than a butler to him. Alfred gently pet her head, providing her the comfort she needs. To the guest they found it cute and think that she was only shy but as for her Mother. . . It broke her poor heart. She never wanted this and she never asked for this, she hated Bruce and wished that she never loved him in the first place; Her baby was suffering and it was HER fault. M/n couldn’t take it, she whispered to Alfred to keep an eye out for them and to take care of her child as she discreetly rests to put her self together. Her friend Selina Kyle who was absolutely in love with her and completely adores her, knew what was wrong as she followed her into the bathroom in her and Bruce’s (ewww hiss hiss, so gross.) shared room, Unaware of another party joining in.

.

.

.

M/n lets Selina hold her, she needed it right now as she poured her heart out to Selina as Selina gently kissed her head and pets her hair. Selina helped M/n wipe away her tears and redo her makeup, Selina fixed M/n’s hair and placed her hat on. (I kinda imagined M/n having an outfit that was or was similar to Lady Dimitrescu from Resident evil for this party.)

I wonder what your daughter would think if she would’ve seen you like this?

Mind your business you-

What do you want Talia? I’m not in the mood for it.

I noticed that you were acting strange so I’ve decided to see for myself what was the problem. I don’t think Bruce Wayne or the wonderful guest to see the weak and vulnerable state of his beautiful and ever joyful wife?

Weak? Weak?!

M/n- (trust me she wanted to whoop that ass.)

Listen to me you good for nothing, two faced Strumpet! Oh!- Every day I have to wake up and go about the day working like a dog; Not being able to help my daughter or ask from help from the authorities from these Psychos! I have to smile, kiss, and sleep with the man I used to love and now Hate because if i don’t I would LOSE MY DAUGHTER! And don’t think you’re superior or the cream of the whole damn crop because I know what you did! You drugged his drink so that he would sleep with you and that’s how you got your son which is why I did tell Alfred in advance but he already had his seed in you.

Now why don’t you get your no good keister out of my bathroom and leave! You say I’m weak, Hell I’m STRONG!

Talia gave a glare before she smiled with a menacingly twinkle in her eye, she left without a word but she knew it wouldn’t be the last of her. . .

[blackbirdsblackberries]

Hi!

Multiple things,

First of all I'm taking requests for headcanons, one shots and the like!

There won't be any limitations besides the obvious; no 🍇, incest or pedophilia.

I write for Batfam, Superfam and the villains of Gotham City!

Second, I also wish to write a neglected reader story but I don't want to accidentally play into common tropes while writing it (eg. Diary entries, Alfred not doing anything until after Reader leaves, Reader dedicating their whole childhood to the family, etc) so any suggestions of how you want the plot to go will be taken into account!

Third, thank you for all the support this far, the first chapter for Yandere Batfam x Cult Reader will come out tomorrow (possibly later today). I don't know the name to give it just yet so bare with me.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

For shapeshifter! Reader, how would batfam prevent them from sneaking out after they discover their powers? I image they probably wouldn’t want them sneaking out, but they might have to get creative with the restraints

The Batfamily don’t want their darling sneaking out whatsoever, especially when it’s by themself, so there will certainly be preventative measures put in place immediately. It’ll start out will small things, the family are focusing more on watching their darling and learning their patterns and where/how exactly they are getting out before they completely take action.

The first thing happening is a tracker being placed on the Reader without their knowledge. It’ll be trial and error for the family to realize the best way to keep the tracker on their darling before they decide that the best option is to drug their darling and inject them with an imbedded tracker so that they can’t easily get rid of it. And you know damn well that when Shapeshifter!Reader gets back and sneaks into their room again after having the tracker on and being watched/followed by the whole family, Bruce is sitting on their bed or something like that and is waiting for them like a disgruntled, disappointed dad about to grill the shit out of his bby. Not only that but then to have all the rest of the batfamily popping in too and looking just as disappointed and disgruntled as Bruce is just furthers the ‘I’m so fucked’ mantra going through their darling’s head.

After that is when the family starts taking bigger steps to keeping their darling from sneaking out and away from them. I can’t help but imagine the batfamily all putting the Reader to bed and saying their good nights and sweet dreams, only then for Bruce to pull out a little remote that he proceeds to use that puts the whole manor in fucking lockdown to keep their bby from sneaking out, especially while the family is on patrol. Also, there’s a good chance that the Reader wouldn’t be allowed to have a room to themself anymore. It’ll most definitely be a scheduled rotation but someone will be staying in the Reader’s room with them from then on. Sometimes it may even be the whole family having a slumber party in the Reader’s room, not only to keep a watchful eye on the Reader and ensure they don’t leave durning the night, but also to get to spend some much more needed time with their precious darling.

I wouldn’t put it past any of the batfamily members to make it a nightly thing to drug their darling before bed just to ensure they don’t go anywhere or to even give them the chance to try and figure a way out. Sure the family all have their reservations about some of the measures they’re taking but at the end of the day it’s for their darling’s sake (at least that’s what they keep telling themselves and each other) and that’s all they need to keep doing what they’re doing.

None of this goes without Selina’s notice though, of course it doesn’t. She notices right away when her bby hasn’t come for their usual visit. It’s something like this that makes her so thankful that she did put her own tracker on the Reader to be able to find them if she had to and to think she almost didn’t go through with it. Selina is aware of the Reader’s situation with the Batfamily. She doesn’t agree with a lot of what the family is doing or how they’re going about doing things but she can understand to a degree of what the family is trying to do. She’s tried to talk to Bruce and a few other Batfamily members to try and get through to them, to get them to ease up on the Reader and be more understanding of their wants, especially for more freedom, but it never seems to do anything. Honestly, it just became even more of a reason why Selina wanted to be someone for the Reader to feel they could escape to. And now with the more extreme measures the family are taking, Selina feels all the more inclined to step in than she had before. She can’t let this slide, not when they’re going above and beyond to force their darling to stay put.

[helpfandom]

could I request some yandere catwoman hcs? There's a lack of content for my girl selina

Didn't say what type so whatever GIF I find first that I like, I'm going with. Since I am going to do Michelle Pfeiffer! Catwoman, I decided that BTAS! would be good.

To be quite honest, she's already been shown to be quite impulsive, like when she kissed Batman, so it's going to be quite quick for her to kidnap.

A typical darling in Gotham is mean, and that would drive off most villains unless there is at least one, (1), redeeming quality about them. Selina's best darling would be either a soft darling, or a mean darling who has a soft spot for animals, either way, they must like cats.

They would most likely meet with Reader chasing Isis [Her black cat] out of the road when a car was coming when she was Catwoman and escaping Batman, or to find Reader petting Isis when she escaped from her as Selina Kyle.

Regardless, she doesn't think much of you, except that you must have been a good person to pet a random cat in Gotham, or to even make sure that the animal is safe. She continues along her days rarely thinking of you until she sees you again, yelling at Batman for almost hitting an animal with his batmobile, regardless of the fact that he's Batman or not.

She finds this part of you amusing, the fact that you care not for who they are, just that they almost hit an animal is enough for you to determine that they must be a bad person.

She acknowledges that she thinks about you often now, wondering if you would take money from her or if you would throw it away. She doesn't think of the fact that you don't know who she is, but Maven can find out more about you so Selina can introduce herself.

She introduces herself and inserts herself into your life as Selina and as Catwoman, using her persona to stalk you throughout the night when you sneak out to pet the animals nearby.

Selina loves this cute side of you and wishes to protect it, hence why after a month of debating, she kidnaps you. I must protect this good child, take care of her as my own. She expected a surprise, maybe you yelling at her, but for Reader to simply not care? What a shock.

She finds this so interesting, and uses her money to spoil you, giving you a sheltered life. As long as you never go back to your old family, she can give you everything you ever wanted!

[blueluvsu2]

Hii I’m Blue!! I will start to post some of my oneshots on here, feel free to request anything!! Besides proships..😞 I will be posting art on here from time to time!!😙

[klemen-tine]

Please Please Please (Mom! Reader x Batfam)

Don't prove I'm right~ I love that song so much. Anyways! Not extreme Yandere, but part 2 will have some. This is just the setting up for it. Also, while writing I won't lie, I forgot about Damien, so he will have a lot of showtime in the next part. FYI

TW: Cheating, slapping (Reader slaps Bruce), Reader also throws something at Bruce.

In now way do I condone partner violence. no matter how mad you get, you should never hit or throw something at your partner.

In case you have never heard this song before, first of all who are you? Secondly here is the link

@Rosecentury 

@Problematicreblogger

@Kurai-hono-blog 

@Lunaluz432

@testishere

Y/N had put her life on pause for Bruce and his hero complex. She is a top-model. A supermodel that is still being asked to do photoshoots, make guest appearances, and dominate the runway despite her time away from it. The strict workout regime was still her daily exercise, and she still was conscious of what she ate. Age had not affected her the way it has to some of her friends because Y/N lived to be a model. 

Yet, she had put that on the backburner for her husband and kids. She forced her attention onto the scarred and vibrant children that her traumatized husband brought in like strays. Y/N raised them, alongside Alfred. It’s because of them that their sons and daughters did not turn out as crooked as Bruce Wayne. A man that was full of jagged and sharp pieces, piercing the skin of whoever got close. 

E/C eyes rolled nearly out her socket, taking a sip of the morning coffee and waiting for her youngest to come down. She ignored the nervous glances being sent her way from her sons, and instead pulled out her phone to look for a familiar contact. 

“None of you have anything I need to be here for, do you?” Tim and Jason quickly shook their heads, and Dick gave a nervous smile, “Not really… although it would be nice if you stayed here though.” Y/N raised a delicate eyebrow, and a sharp smile formed on her lips as she pressed ‘call,’ “Ah, don’t worry Dickie, I’ll come back. I’m just going on a trip.” 

The person answered, and before they could start spewing curses, Y/N greeted them, “Hey, Jackie! It’s Y/N.” 

“Y-Y/N! What’s going on?” 

“Remember those gigs you were telling me about?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Book them.” The boys stood up while her manager on the other line sputtered in excitement, “Really?! Oh my gosh Y/N this is so exciting! Which ones do you want? I know you want to stay close to Gotham -heaven knows why- but I can find some in-” 

“All of them.” 

“...what?” 

“Book all of them.” Jackie hummed, “Some are out of the country though.” 

“Even better! Pack your bags Jackie, we are gonna be gone for a while. Bring Stella too, I’ll pay for both of your tickets and lodgings.” Jackie was stuttering, “The-the first gig in a week is Venice, Italy! Is that enough time for you to-” 

“Let's leave tonight.” 

“Tonight?!” Everyone screeched, and Y/N gave her sons an annoyed look, “Yes, tonight. Let's enjoy Venice like when we were young, and show Stella around. I’m sure the two of you could use a vacation anyways.” 

“....Y/N, is everything okay?” 

“Peachy. See you tonight.” Y/N hung up, and threw her phone on the opposite end of the couch, continuing to sip her cup of coffee as the news reporter continued to talk about Batman and his risky rendezvous with Catwoman. The perfect love story. 

The pursuer and the pursued. The cop and robber. Batman, the man of justice, and Catwoman, a thief. 

Her jaw clenched, and her fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. The air around her was full of jitters and Dick was basically vibrating with worry, Jason focused intensely on his phone, and Tim was drinking even more coffee. 

“Um, mom, are you… is this…” Dick was fumbling, trying to find the words, and Y/N smiled, “C’mon on Dickie. It’s been a while since I went on the runway, or even in front of a camera outside of Gotham. You’re all old enough now, it’s fine.” 

“What about Dami?” Y/N smiled sadly, “Dami will be fine. Hell, today I’ll have him help me choose the jewelry and clothes that I will be packing.”

“You’re gonna have him help you pack your bags to leave?” Tim wondered, and Y/N flinched out how terrible that sounded, “Not like that. It’s a trip. A fashion trip and a girls trip.” Jason scrunched his nose, “Ma, fucking Bruce just go caught cheating and was broadcasted across the NEWs, and you’re now leaving for a trip. Do you think Dami will understand that?” 

Y/N took a sip of her coffee, “He will. It’ll be a conversation but it will be reiterated as many times as he needs to hear it. Plus, it’s not like you guys can’t call me.” Damien came stomping down the stairs, dressed in the Gotham Academy Uniform, and Y/N threw on a smile that would have had actresses crying, “Dami! I need your help today, so nevermind school.” Green eyes blinked in shock, his gaze taking in every one in the room before landing back on her, “Are you needing my assistance in packing?” 

“Only for a trip. So there’s no need to pack everything.” Damien nodded, “Fine. I will assist you. You have an abysmal amount of jewelry and some of them are simply deplorable.” Y/N chuckled, “Thanks Dami.” He went back up the stairs to change, and Y/N turned back to the NEWs where they were finally talking about something different. 

Sighing, Y/N stood up from the couch, “I’ll be in my room packing if anyone needs anything.” Silence followed her, and once she was out of earshot, Dick proceeded to panic even more. 

+++

She’s in Greece now. After spending a week in Italy, a week in Iceland, two weeks in France, and now four days in Zakynthos, Greece, she knows her vacation time is limited. Y/N has been using Bruce’s card to pay for the three luxury hotel rooms, one for herself (obviously), Jackie, and Stella. She’s used them for the plane flight in first class, the first class train ride, the yacht to get to this island, the fancy dinners, shopping sprees, any time that she needed to put money down she was using his card. 

Bruce is a billionaire, he doesn’t care and Y/N is also a billionaire, but this is her way of being petty. Why would she waste her money? 

A delicate eyebrow raised at the man in the mirror, followed by two of their sons and a butler dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. 

“Lady Y/N, it is great to see you.” 

“Hey Alfie, vacation looks good on you. I highly recommend the mimosa’s here, none of them have been bad.” 

“Hi Ma, you look relaxed.” Jason walked further into the room, taking a seat on the plush chair and grabbing a grape, and tossing some to Dick. Their oldest son smiled and waved, “C’mon mom, I know you’ve been here before, but you could at least try and look like a tourist.” Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling lovingly and flicking her hair over her shoulder. She leaned close to the mirror again, rubbing sunscreen on her face and massaging it into her skin. 

Her husband made his way a little closer as the family spread out in the room. Jason sitting in the chair, Dick on the bed, and Alfred standing near the door. Y/N sneered at Bruce through the mirror, “Bringing the kids to see you get humiliated is something I would have never thought you’d do.” 

Bruce sighed heavily, and Y/N wiped her hands on the towel and sipped her mimosa. Piercing blue eyes, filled with exhaustion and guilt, met hers, “Y/N, how much longer are you scheduled for?” 

“Hmm, for a while Bruce,” She pretended to think, “After all, I’ve been wanting to get back into modeling now that most of the kids are becoming independent, and what better way to announce to the world that I am back than a hard launch.” Bruce raised an eyebrow at her, “Will it be my card you’ll continue to use.”

“Of course! It's the least my darling, idiotic, and hormone-rivaling-a-teenager husband can do after that stunt, right?” The room got colder and Dick sat up straighter at the tension between his two parental figures. Y/N has always had a sharp tongue and quick wit, one she used on Bruce a lot. Rarely ever was it aimed to be hurtful though. 

“Y/N, temper.” Dick’s jaw opened and Jason made an exaggerated gasp. Alfred looked pained as Y/N whirled around and seethed at Bruce, “Temper? Temper?! Who the hell are you to tell me to watch my temper when you can’t even control your own hormones? 

“If you wanted to see my temper you just had to fucking say so!” Dick turned to Alfred, trying to see if there was anything he could do, but at the resigned look the man gave him, the oldest son choked on a noise, “This is a new side of mom.” 

“Lady Y/N has always had a temper, one that rivals Master Bruce.” She looked like a puffed up cat while Bruce was cowing like a dog with puppy eyes, “When they were younger, she would put even the adults in their place.” Her hand grabbed the now cold coffee pot, and Dick feels like it was only because Bruce was used to stuff being thrown at him and catching things that he was able to grab the projectile before it landed on the walls and carpet. Alfred raised a brow, “Sometimes that temper bleeds into other things.” 

Their mother was seething in front of Bruce, looking like a bull and was ready to charge into a china shop. While Bruce may not be as delicate as one, Dick has money on Y/N still doing a lot of damage if she were to charge. Metaphorically and physically.  

“Y/N, please.” Bruce tried again, only to see her get more angry. His hands were up in a placating manner, and Y/N held her own hands tense and ready to swing if he came closer. 

“Y/N, it genuinely was an accident.” 

“ ‘it genuinely was an accident’–” She mocked, purposefully making her voice annoying “-fuck off! Like your tongue going down her throat is an accident. Didn’t know that could happen!” Y/N looked around again for something to chuck, while Bruce closed the space between them inch by inch. 

“What’s next? Are you going to trip and accidentally find yourself between her legs with your pants down?” Jason and Dick blanched at the imagery. 

“Over a decade of marriage, of me playing the perfect ex-model-arm-candy wife for Bruce Wayne just for you dressed in a fucking furry suit to go and makeout with another fucking furry! 

“Like! I know we weren’t in this for love, but there. Are. Still. Standards!” She enunciated each word with a swat of her hand on Bruce’s shoulder. 

“I still have standards! You don’t see me making out with anyone else do you? Even as I’m playing Supermodel Y/N, dressed to the millions and making everyone drool, I don’t go making out with them!” 

“How could Batman, of all persona’s you wish to play, do that? I expected that from Brucie, not Batman, defender of Justice or whatever bullshit you spew when dressed in that gothic suit.” 

Bruce sighed, “Y/N, it was bad timing.” He gave her a hard look, “Justice and this are different. You cannot compare the two.” The man knew he messed up once the words left his mouth and he closed his eyes in regret. 

Jason saw the slap coming and he braced himself for the impact it would have. Bruce didn’t catch it, despite him being fully capable of it, and when it landed everyone winced at the sound and the red mark. 

“Well this is my justice. Now go away. I have a photoshoot to get ready for and you are just pissing me off!” The hand print was immaculate. One that had Jason biting back a laugh and Dick looking horrified. Y/N whirled back around to face her vanity, where all her jewelry laid on the surface, and her attention was focused back on picking which one would go with her outfit to the shoot. 

Jason whistled when Bruce turned around to face his kids and Butler, “Good hit Ma. You should hit the other side to even it out.” Y/N gave a laugh, picking up the pearl earrings encased with gold, and she continued to pick out a necklace. 

“Jay, help me out here please.” Rough hands replaced her’s, and green eyes met furious E/C though the mirror. Using the safety of her son’s larger frame to hide herself, Y/N slowly let herself crumble a little bit. Jason could see the anger, hurt, and sadness that was slowly turning the sclera red from holding back tears. There was a subtle shake in her shoulders and the trembling of lips, but Y/N held it together. She was holding onto it by the seams, desperately waiting for the man causing her pain to be gone. 

When the gold clasped, Y/N reached over for her large hat and sunglasses, “Enjoy the beach. Alfie, you especially should enjoy this vacation. Don’t let this  stupid, untrustworthy, and manwhore of a furry disrupt it.” With that, she slammed her hotel room door on her way out, and they all listened as her heels clicked down the hall until they were out of ear shot. 

Alfred glanced at his ward, “Well, I am not one for violence when there are disputes between partners, but I will say that one slap was well deserved, Master Bruce.” The man sighed, slightly rubbing his cheek, “I think the last time she hit me that hard was when we were in grade school.” 

“She put all her body weight into that.” Dick glanced at the hand print, “Woah, I think you can see the ring too.” Jason whistled, and Bruce closed his eyes and took deep breaths to keep himself steady, reflecting on the conversation and where exactly he messed up. 

“I think this is the third time she’s slapped me…” 

“Fourth, sir.” Bruce nodded, remembering the third time. Jason raised an eyebrow, “I only know of the time you were both 6, and you said something mean so she hit you.” Dick pouted, “I know of the one in Middle School, when you were once accused of touching her butt.” 

Alfred raised a brow, “The third time was when she dropped you off at the manor after a long night of drinking and you—” 

“Thanks Alfred, there’s no need to tell that story.” Bruce’s cheeks were now flushed from embarrassment rather than the slap on his cheek.  Y/N truly has seen him through it all. When he got into fights in school, it was always her eyes he sought out after each one. Bored E/C eyes, framed by thick lashes and elegant eyeliner, always watching with a blank expression. Bruce Wayne rarely phased Y/N L/N. When he was younger, he noticed how his last name made people stumble or stutter when talking to him, allowing him to say whatever he wanted. It did nothing to Y/N, who met his gaze and taunts head on with her own witty comebacks that stuck at parts of Bruce that had him fumbling. 

He can remember his dad, Thomas Wayne, laughing when he caught Y/N’s sly comeback directed at Bruce after he said something about her dress. Y/N’s own parents looked mortified. 

Y/N L/N-Wayne was a flame that never wavered. It’s what made her successful at modeling, and a supermodel in her first two years. That flame is what had photographers, stylists, fashion designers, and make up artists still call her up, begging for her to come back. A force of nature that had only paused for Bruce and their children. 

“C’mon, Y/N. Even you can see the benefits of this.” The woman raised her brow at a younger Bruce, who was smiling at her. 

“Your life does not pause, and now with the Wayne name as yours, your options are endless.” 

“And what about you?” 

“This means I no longer have to play as a playboy in public and everyone will stop asking me to marry them or their daughters.” Y/N laughed, “Nah, you’ll still get them. They’ll just now be whispered behind closed doors.” 

Bruce smiled, “The standards of a regular marriage will still apply. Obviously not the sex part or anything, but everything else will. Think of it like living with roommates.

“This will work for the both of us, Y/N.” The woman smiled into the rim of her cup, red lips leaving an imprint on the glass. 

It took him five tries for her to finally agree. There might have been some manipulation on his side of things, but he got that ring on her finger, and 2 months later she was walking down the aisle in a wedding dress that was deemed ‘The Dress of the Century.’ She was beautiful, even more so than usual. 

Dick glanced at him, “So, what’s the plan?” Bruce sighed, “Just make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” 

++++

It took 4 months for Y/N to come back to the manor. Within those 4 months, one of them were always with her. Switching off when they hit a new city, and each one had tried their charm on having her come back to the mansion. Bruce was going crazy, therefore Batman was more brutal than usual, and that the meant the other birds had to pick up the slack when it came to emotions. Bruce had all but shut down every other part that wasn’t Batman. 

However, nothing returned to normal once she was back. Her and Bruce were rarely in each other’s presence, and she refused to see or do anything about Batman. Y/N was trying to remove herself from Bruce Wayne completely, and no one liked that. 

Bruce and Y/N may claim that they were never in love, and that they only married for convenience. However, Dick will always remember watching Bruce and Y/N dancing in the main hall of the manor. He was hanging onto the chandelier, not yet noticed by either, as a song began playing and they both began dancing. 

They had been dressed in casual clothes, which consisted of dark blue jeans and nice tops and shoes. Dick’s young eyes watched as the two of them swayed and twirled around each other, Y/N laughing at the whispered words Bruce would share, and the stern man relaxing for the duration of the time. 

They were far from the perfect couple. Their parenting styles were different, and it took a while for Y/N to warm up to Dick. She was never cold or malicious, but just like Dick and everyone else, she was lost. However, it was her awkward arms he sought after when he had a bad day, or when Bruce got on his nerves. It was her eyes he always seeked approval for. 

When she caught him hastily packing, dying to get away from the man that had his rules tighter than the Robin suit, she helped. Y/N had folded his clothes, snuck a bottle of Smirnoff and Titos into his luggage, because moving required at least two bottles of alcohol, and she hugged him goodbye. 

Every member of this family has a memory tied to Y/N. A gentle one. 

Damian had kind memories, where Y/N smiled at him for no reason. She did not expect perfection, and one time she stated how she wished Damian would fail sometimes. It was something that had him seething and jumping to defend himself, but Y/N laughed, “Failure is our best teacher, Damian. What better time to fail then when you knwo you have people willing to help you up?” 

Jason remembers peeking on Y/N when he was younger. Watching through the cracks of the door as she and Bruce swayed to music, laughed at old memories, or simply sat around each other and read a book. Sometimes, he’d catch her trying on her jewelry, or reorganizing her perfume. Every now and then she would go through her closet and donate clothes she no longer wanted or needed. 

He watched how Dick, would seek her out whenever he and Bruce argued. When Jason finally allowed himself to be wrapped in those arms– arms that always had Bruce looking ready to sacrifice everything, that had Dick relaxing, and Alfred smiling endearingly– and he can see why they did so. It's different from Bruce, because Bruce makes you feel protected. In Bruce’s arms, Jason knows that there is almost nothing that can harm him. 

In Y/N’s embrace, Jason feels at peace. There’s no need to worry about protection because he’s in a place that does not need it. When he dances with Y/N, to their song nonetheless, there is nothing that can ever disrupt the moment. Y/N stares at him with adoration, just how she does with Dick, only her attention is on him. Him! A street rat from Dowry, Crime Alley, and he has the attention of the woman that is Bruce’s equal in the highest social circles. 

Those soft E/C eyes, that always stared at them with warmth and love, stared back at him through the mirror. He and Tim, because Timmy loved her just as much as he did, watched as Y/N emptied another glass of the Rose, and how the exhaustion from all the shows, photoshoots, flashing cameras, and the ordeal with Bruce seeped into her bones. 

“Hey Ma, let's get some sleep.” Jason walked closer, carefully minding the scattered jewelry that looked more expensive than any of his weapons, and Tim, who was forever on the same wavelength as Jason, scampered over to the large bed and lit the diffuser. 

Y/N hummed, running her hands through her hair, before tilting her head back and looking at Jason once more, “You both shouldn’t be here. I can handle this myself.” Y/N never liked it when any of the kids saw her less than presentable. She was always dressed in nice clothes, with nice jewelry, and makeup even at the manor. It's one of the worries of being a model, she had told Dick, always scared that the nosey paparazzi will catch you at your worst and share it with an even crueler audience. 

Jason had once confided in her about Willis Todd, and how he hated it when she drank in front of him. Whether it was scotch or champagne. 

After that, Y/N always drank in her room. 

The thing is, that Jason knows Y/N wouldn’t ever hurt him. She’s not like Willis who purposefully seeked out to hurt someone smaller. Jason knows that no matter how mad she got at him, she wouldn’t do anything (unlike what she would do to Bruce).

This is why, despite all the trauma he has with alcohol and people being intoxicated, he can confidently move the bottle away and the glass. Noting how both were empty. 

Tim strolled over, and gave a small smile through the mirror, “I’ll brush your hair, Mom. Then you should sleep.” Y/N tried to wave him off, “Don’t bother. I can do it myself. You both should go.” She sluggishly reached out for the vintage decorated paddle brush, only for Tim to snatch it before she could. 

“I want to do it. Besides, if it bothers you, think of it as me returning the favor.” The confused look Y/N gave him had him smiling patiently as he stood behind her and gently began to brush the locks of hair. Y/N sighed, “This is embarrassing. My kids should not be taking care of me.” 

“I’m an adult.” 

“CEO of Wayne Enterprises as well. Taking care of you when you are in a low spot is the least I could do.” Lord knows how many times Y/N has cared for them at their lowest. When Tim believed that Bruce was stuck in the Time Stream, Y/N didn’t seem all that confident in it, but she still believed him and helped him narrow down locations. She kept the press busy while he went out and searched. 

He heard later that she refused to talk to Dick when she found out they wanted to put Tim in Arkham. She shook her head in disappointment when Dick told her that Damien is now Robin. Tim always thought Dick was a bit stupid on that part. Parading Damien, a child from another woman, around and in front of Y/N nonetheless. Yes, thankfully Y/N warmed up to Damien and vice versa (although for Damien it took longer),  but that could have gone bad in so many ways. 

“Still my kids.” Jason pulled a chair next to her, so they could all be in the view of the mirror, and in a rare show of affection that is only reserved for Alfred and Y/N, he rested his head on her shoulder as Tim continued to work the brush carefully through her hair. Y/N’s shoulders sagged and her back hunched a bit, and for the first time in a while, Y/N let herself look how she felt. Exhausted. Utterly and completely exhausted. 

Tim can see the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes, and the way her skin looked duller than usual. Granted, she finished a long gig, working tirelessly for months posing, getting dressed up, and traveling around the world to forget Bruce’s infidelity. 

‘Standards,’ she said in response to his excuse. Tim isn’t stupid to believe that neither Bruce or Y/N have feelings for the other. He’s seen it. It's in the way that Bruce concedes in arguments, or the flowers and necklaces he buys her when he’s apologetic, how the harsh glare that was directed at Tim when he first became Robin eased the moment Y/N pulled the boy close to her. Acting as a shield and sword for him. 

Her message was clear, and Bruce decided to read it. 

Y/N on the other hand lessened Bruce’s stress when he was CEO, the breaks from brooding to dance in the main hall to their song, or even acting as the sound of reason for him. She keeps him tethered to Earth, never letting his thoughts stray too far from reality. 

They may not be in love, but they still liked each other. Enough so that Bruce went along with her whims, just how she does with him. Enough so for Bruce to chase her across the world. Looking at it, perhaps Bruce was the one in love. 

“Jason, can you pass me the scrunchie?” He grabbed the silk scrunchie from large hands, and began braiding his mom’s hair. 

“You guys are being so silly,” Y/N huffed, and Jason beamed at her, giving her a boyish smile that he never shows anymore, “Anything for ya, Ma.” She subtly shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked back into the mirror. 

“Is this still about Bruce?” Tim kept his eyes on the braid, but from the tension in her shoulders, he hit the jackpot. Y/N brought her hand up to rub her forehead, “That idiot…” 

“Join the club, Ma.” Y/N took a deep breath, “He’s so stupid. It’s one thing to kiss another woman, which is fine. Do what you want to do, it’s not like we married for love.” A glare formed on her face, “But to get caught is another thing. Fucking idiot, he can only think with his hormones like a teenager. Even Dami isn’t like that, thank god.” 

Tim tied off the braid with the silk scrunchie, watching Y/N get heated again, “I hate him.” Except it was said with no bite, and the way Y/N’s lip wobbled had Tim hearing other words alongside the ones she mumbled. Jason leaned into her, offering her comfort while Tim watched from the reflection in the mirror.

Y/N to Tim was what Janet Drake had failed to be. He learned a lot from both of them, and it helped that both women were huge players in their social circles and socialites. They both taught him how to play with people’s perception of someone. Only Janet taught him to keep a straight face and not show emotion, while Y/N taught him that with a correct smile and a well placed chuckle, someone can be eating out of the palm of their hands. Both women approached the world with different weapons and tools, and both women used and taught them to him. 

Only Y/N also knew when it was time to put down the mask and become a reliable person for Tim, while Janet continued to only be Janet to Tim. 

He loves them both. Except, with Y/N he felt that if she were to ever leave him the way Janet did then he would have no choice but to follow and bring her back. Wherever Y/N goes, Tim will follow. 

“Boys.” Jason and Tim snapped their attention to the door, and Bruce was standing there, menacingly longingly. His face in an unusual expression, but one he’s worn a lot throughout the time Y/N was gone. An expression all the boys have gotten to know. Tim escaped, saying goodnight to both parental figures, before leaving for the cave. 

Jason pecked Y/N’s cheek, whispering good night and glaring at Bruce, “Don’t fuck this up old man.” To which Bruce sighed and nodded, closing the door after Jason. For the first time in months, it was just Y/N and Bruce. Alone with each other’s company and Bruce knows that if she could, she’d probably be strangling him right now. 

With great hesitancy, one that he could never show as Batman, he sat on the bed about a foot away from her. 

“I paused my life for you.” Y/N glared into blue eyes, “I paused almost everything, for you. For your mission. For the children you brought into our home, without asking me about it beforehand, may I remind you. I love them, and don’t you dare twist that, but I would have liked to have been consulted about it first.” Y/N didn’t want to be a mother. It was never in the cards for her, and yet here she is having more children than she had ever dreamt of. 

She loves them. She’d die and kill for them, but they were never in the cards of life she wanted dealt to her. 

“I paused so much, just for you to go and.. And… and do that.” Bruce winced at that, and Y/N felt happy that he did. Gritting her teeth, Y/N turned her attention to look at the fire. The heat of it reminds her of her own rage and the coldness she feels when in the presence of Bruce. 

Sighing heavily, she closed her eyes and bit back a groan, “And once I start getting my life started again, having fun, going on the runway and magazines, here you come storming back.” 

“You looked like you needed the break.” Y/N shook her head, “Did you know, that that is one of your worst habits. Always making yourself out to be the hero.” She took a glass of wine and watched the liquid swirl in the glass, “Of course, you let me have that moment. Of course you were thinking of me, and my happiness. How kind of you.” 

Bruce sighed, watching her sip the alcohol that left a red stain on her lips. He can remember the first time he saw her in red lipstick. Shockingly, it was in-person and the red made her skin look warm and teeth appear even whiter despite the knowledge that red lipstick can make your teeth look yellower. It was a beautiful shade, matched by her dress. 

She was beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Even as time progressed and she and he got older, Y/N remained beautiful. Defying the laws time and age as she remained ethereal. Unfairly so. 

Bruce had wanted to preserve that beauty, in the same way that many tried to preserve the flowers from the garden and the expensive smelling perfume. He wanted nothing more than for Y/N to continue smiling and for the fire to remain bright. 

To do that, he had to stay away. He could not allow himself to love her, because if he fell then he would drag her through the mud with him. Yet, here he is on the other side of that cold look, one that had him hesitating. That kiss with Selena was terrible timing all around. She had caught him in a moment of weakness, and someone just so happened to be there at the worst moment to catch it all. 

Staying away proved to be ineffective when here she is drinking wine with red-rimmed eyes and anger in her brows. 

“This marriage was never one for love, but there are standards. Ones we talked about beforehand.” 

“I know.” Y/N pursed her lips, tilting her head to the left and watching Bruce with distrustful eyes. The man sighed heavily and he sat in front of her, taking his own glass and pouring himself some wine. He didn’t like this type of wine, and from the very small scrunch in her nose Y/N didn’t like it either. 

The more he stared at her, taking in her still youthful features and eyes that burned bright, the more he could feel his emotions rising to the surface. Feelings and emotions he long tried to bury, but never quite succeeded. He had hoped that kissing Selena would just prove that he is only missing her as a sexual partner, and it only confirmed for him that he was in love with her. 

He is in love with Y/N L/N-Wayne. His kids are in love with Y/N. Alfred loves Y/N. The whole Wayne family, extended and all, are in love with this woman. This woman has nothing to do with their vigilantism, but instead reminds them that they are also normal and exist outside of masks and costume. That they are human and not shadows of the night. 

That they are the Wayne family. 

God, he loves her so much. So much. She is his weakness, his strength, his everything. The fancy cufflinks that are only brought out for special occasions, the expensive wine cracked open for celebrations, the pearl earring worn for the best performances. Y/N is the treasure of the Wayne family. 

Carefully, he wrapped an arm around her waist, slowly inching his way around her, testing the waters to see if she would shake him off or hiss at him. When there was no sign of that, he tightened his hold only slightly and pressed his forehead into her shoulder, gently laying a kiss on the joint, “Like I said, it was an accident. She caught me at a bad time, and I wasn’t expecting her to do that.” 

Y/N released a heavy sigh, and Bruce hugged her tighter, “I swear. It wasn’t consensual.” She rubbed her forehead, and Bruce watched how the lines slowly faded and melted back into her skin. Y/N never wore exhaustion well, which was why on mornings she had early photoshoots, she would sleep in her room instead of Bruce’s. She always woke up when he would stalk in and climb under the sheets with her. 

“Please, Y/N. Give me a chance. Let me take care of you the way you should be.” Y/N chuckled at that, “Careful Bruce, keep saying stuff like that and I might start to believe you have feelings for me.” Ice blue met E/C, and Y/N hesitated for a moment. Something chilling going down her spine, “I guess, I should start saying it more often then.” 

“Bruce…” He pecked her cheek, careful of the fire he was playing with, and carefully watching her reactions. His arms encircled her tighter, and he kissed her shoulder. Bruce watched, and observed how the tension slowly left her and reluctant acceptance came across her face. His arms tightened, and Bruce fought back a smile. 

“Ever the charmer,” She mumbled. Bruce huffed a laugh, and Y/N shook her head, “If I catch you with your mouth on anyone else’s but mine, I’m going to sick the kids on you.” An image of four rabid dogs, followed by a few more, filled his mind. Bruce grimaced as he remembered the tongue lashing he got from everyone, “Noted.” 

Y/N chuckled, and Bruce smiled, throwing his weight back on the pillows, bringing Y/N with him. His arms still tight around her waist, and a promise on his lips. 

‘I’ll never let you go again.’ 

________________________________________________

Not super Yandere, but it is getting there.

[hana-no-seiiki]

OKAI THE BRAINROT IS NOT GOING AWAY IM INDULGING IT

LEGITIMATELY REWATCHED A FEW SECONDS OF CHAT NOIR AND WAS LIKE GODDAMN I WANT TO SEE THE ROBINS WITH THIS SLUT BEHAVIOR AAAAA

anyways

pairings: yandere! batfam x cat villain! reader.

just a little snippet im too lazy for more huhu

the real reason why some of the boys coveted the robin position so much wasn’t cause it gave them batman’s attention

no no no

it was because it meant that you would be inevitably be their rival and, if they’re charming enough, your friend.

you were harmless in the grand scheme of things, helpful in some cases. very much like your mentor, catwoman. only with a much more heavy appetite for chaos and being slutty around the robins and the robins alone

you didn’t care who it was under the mask, if they did not don it anymore you wouldn’t care less about them.

which brings us to our current situation

damian wayne was your latest victim. so far your favorite prey of all those that previously had his spot.

he was everything you liked about the domino masked hero: sassy, controlling, and ever so quick to take the bait that is your teasing.

but a small, itsy bitsy mistake on your part caused him to get horridly injured.

as such you took it upon yourself to take care of him that night.

he kept rattling on about “not needing your pity.” or how “a heinous criminal like you shouldn’t be even touching him” as if you two didn’t wrestle in more ways than one on the regular.

of course you ignored his pleas like always and healed him up

“why are you doing this? if not pity then—“ damian cursed as pain shot through his entire body. every time he was getting on your nerves by speaking too much you’d often dig into him harshly with your gauze.

“i wouldn’t want our chase to be over before you catch me.” you breathed out, wincing at all the blood before you.

heroes and vigilantes alike often dehumanized you. would say that you were some heartless, ruthless criminal with no regard nor compassion for anybody but yourself. but you could never get used to the blood and violence it took for you to get what you want — what you needed.

selina said that was your best trait

“after all, don’t you enjoy proving those stupid do gooders wrong?”

she’d say

you smile as you remembered the times you’d tease his predecessors. how you’d shower them with love, how you’d endear yourself to them. your little birdies til they weren’t. it’s amazing how blinded by love they were. they never even began to think that your flighty nature was the one at fault and not theirs for failing to keep their occupation.

perhaps you should thank bruce for his shitty parenting techniques.

damian never really thought much of you. he knew of tim’s little stalking hobby, of jason’s bloody shows of affection, of dick’s reckless attitude whenever you two fought. he just saw those as proof of his triumph, his superiority. if you acknowledged him then he succeeded. if you pitied him then you saw him as a failure.

then he realized he never truly understood them until this moment

but now that he knew just how much he has, that his brothers don’t. something that they would no doubt kill to have again…

he’ll make sure they never get you even over his dead body.

check reblogs for more cause ill be adding there for the uh 12-24 hours