#yandere ra's x reader

[acid-ixx]

〔00〕 — 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐌 : perfect perception

DIRECTORY: concept, chapter 00, chapter 01

it was always just you, and your family.

just you, your mother, twin brother, and grandfather. the puzzle is complete, there is no need for an extra couple of pieces to add on to your already satiated life. there is no need to work hard, or to endure painful endeavors to attain what you want; not when your family would complete it all for you.

it wasn't like you could, or should, complain, no? you have everything granted to you from when you were born. scarred hands, jagged figure, weary eyes; those aren't necessary for a person like you, who will always be sheltered, in both cozy blankets and loving arms. oblivious to the cruel world and pesting hands that claw on innocent beings like you.

a steady house life, a mother who shielded your innocence from all the bloodshed within the family's ordeals, who read to you fairytales, who had you sleep in her bed when you feared, when you foresaw what you thought were monsters under your bed. instead of inhibiting hatred for an heir who'd flinch at raising hands and the sound of clanging swords, she encouraged your meak demeanor and even spoiled tantrums. she runs her hands across your silky tresses, and kisses your forehead a thousand times if you'd even mention it in a passing moment. she dresses you in jewels, in velvety, silky clothes, and bathes you in toys and gifts you never seem to ask for. your little body sleeps on her chest, and listen the steady beat of her heart, calm and beating, all for you.

you teach her softness, and the joys of being a mother. a concept foreign in her eyes, raised opposite to you. she sees herself in you, and projects what should've been her childhood to her youngest twin child.

you have a twin brother, who, despite being born only a few minutes before you, was significantly older than you, both mentally and spiritually. from the moment he was taken into the world, his duty to take all your pain away and to become your very light was established. and like the warrior he is, he takes that daunting task and transforms it into motivation. he is your knight in shining armor, the prince who catches you when you fall, the one who braves your nightmares, the swordman to your royalty. he trains, all day and night, from such a young age to protect you from unnecessary dangers he understood even his mother fears you'd be subjected to. he does not complain, he does not find reasons to gripe; he takes the scars, the bruises, the punishments and missions all in stride. if it meant seeing you happy and unaware from all the cruelty of living; then so be it. as long as, by the end of the day, he comes back to your shared room to find your tiny form drawing a childish imagery of the little family you love and cherish.

you teach him compassion, vulnerability, and share with him the admiration for arts.

then there is your grandfather. a hardened leader, a monster to all those who serve, but an idol in the eyes of oblivious you. he justifies violence in the wake of achieving his goals, he doesn't tolerate mankind's treatment of nature and its animals, and takes the lives of those who dares oppose. but you are treated differently, like glass that shatters at the softest of hits. his words are sugarcoated and stripped down to the most infantine of comprehension, his eyes are soft every time he kneels to your level to gently request that you return to your room. ra's does not kneel, he does not plead, he does not stoop to those younger than him. but to you, naive and dewy-eyed, akin to a fawn hiding behind a mother's legs, he does. every week, he takes in various experts in the field of teaching to become your mentors in whatever passion you have. he is the foundation of your growth, and he prides himself in that regard.

from him, you learn your love of animals. from you, he learns of weakness, and defeat to such platonic desires.

with your little family, you are happy. you never have to find reasons to complain about food, clothes, or any luxuries their family, akin to royalty, could obtain. you have a family smothering you in affection, attention, to the point where all you have to do is smile at the slightest thing and notice how they melt to your whims.

you were never alone when you didn't want to, you were always guarded, safe, and constantly served.

as you should, as it always should be.

and it was a routine you were used to. you never complained, you never pondered beyond primitive knowledge, you had never desired for more, or wanted less. life was normal despite the strange arrangements with servants always being by your beck and call, or how your brother would always seem to come seeking you after another day of "hard work" your mother doesn't permit you to try, with gashes that litter his tan skin and usually sharp eyes, still fixed with a glare though softened once your arms come to coddle him as a reward.

he finds comfort in your hold. it never once registered within you his ever-growing strength and how his hold on you would always seem to to tighten whenever a potential friend would pass by.

yet you are loved either way, you are cared for. what more is there to ask when you have and always been the singular pearl dripping with grace, poise, and a softness beyond the brutish weapons swung within the training grounds your brother finds himself in.

you are loved by everybody: by your mother, by your brother, by your grandfather, and you're the necessary voice that calls out mercy for whenever a servant would be punished for maintaining a less than satisfactory performance when it comes to serving you. you're the light of reason beyond instictive swings of the sword and the impulsive raise of a voice demanding for battle to settle a deal; biting your lips in disappointment every time your mother attempts to punish a small mistake a servant would do right in front of you.

although certain voices in the hallways find your presence... unsavory, out of place, or they simply pity you; whispers filtering through the kind words everyone else never withdraws from you— nonetheless, they'd have no choice but to obey your childish whims, to smile at you, to be kind and diligent to your emotions.

everything is perfect.

yes, yes it is. an undeniable fact within the factions of your heart. you ignore the subtle strain within your chest, the way the emptiness becomes blatant, and the misunderstood desire for something else... something greater, far beyond the honor of your current family; and replace it with temporary joy.

a joy that softly smiles at the piling gifts, a joy that teaches itself to be good, to be grateful, and to dismiss the ever-changing spotlight you have for your family.

to ignore their hushed whispers whenever your small, eight-year old form with wide eyes, holding a toy between your chest, inquire about what they're discussing with that requires such... strained air and ridged poses.

to ignore their careful words, their gentle hands that pats your hair, that beckons you to come to a different room, and the irritation and bubbling tantrums paired with the heat that wraps your boiling thoughts and clenching hands.

you ignore, and try to neglect that growing ache that insurmountably never passes.

even if you lay in bed every night, unable to sleep, gaining consciousness slowly but surely after another day passes.

you ignore, and dismiss, and it all becomes a cycle that you ought to never break, to never rupture with childish curiosity and the thirst for wisdom.

... because everything is perfect.

everything is perfect. like the candlelight beams of the moon dancing through victorian styled windows, fluttering past the curtains to kiss your resting body every night you lay sleeping on a king-sized mattress, surrounded by soft, cotton plushies and silky, cool blankets as your brother coddles you; your head laying on his chest like routine.

it is perfect like the gardens of flowers all planted with your favorites, an array of colors harmoniously dancing to the sway of traversing winds and bumbling pollinators.

it is perfect like the daily hustle and bustle of your servants, buzzing through wide spans of hallways with their voices mingling through busy air and the wafting scent of a new delicacy your mother ornately chose for you to try.

everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

until the illusion of completeness, of unity and satisfaction were shattered like the bones of your brother's opponents, powderized to mere dust.

until you take notice of the hollow piece in your heart, until your servant mentions a father (a word so foreign, so similar to mother... but different all the same) in mere passing when you two had conversed whilst they were tying your shoes.

at first, you didn't pay a mind, proposing to yourself that you'd ask your mother instead after you've finished your daily assignments.

but then, unlike every other time where you dismissed, ignored and forgot— you began to ponder.

the word, the meaning, its possible etymology and every historical relationship it might've contained; a lesson your brilliant mentor taught you, one that served as a paveway for curious, little you, to investigate.

a trait you're sure nobody really tackled within your family.

if that is so, then where does your stubbornness, your drive to seek answers, come from?

you try to solve the puzzle pieces, ones you thought were never present in your life, your mind wracking through stored memories of a young, prying individual like you; until you came to a conclusion.

does it possibly come from a... father?

father...?

father?

father.

... your brother, too, said the same word.

when he was tired and beat from his training, when all he wanted was a singular hug, whose hands were stained with dripping ichor and knees bruised from hitting upon rocky ground. his emerald eyes were seeking your presence, and you find how his delirious state, itching for calm after another stormy trial of missions, was abnormal; unlike you who flinched at the dizzying scent of blood.

too mature, now you've noticed. a presence that exudes superiority, that takes the lives of those who rebel, that punishes anything less than perfect; that only softens, whose shoulders only sag when he takes in your presence within the same room as him— traits too foreign in the midst of a brother the same age as you.

so when you denied him of oasis, when your young brain was too scared, too worried and all the more wishing for answers on why he always comes back bleeding and injured, rejecting his offer for you to come closer— he all but seethes, and instead sighs; watching your quivering lips and the igniting fight in your eyes, a shaded mixture of your mother's and his.

"you're exactly like what mother told me. stubborn like our father when inconsolable... but i love you too much, akhi/akhti, to care for your lesser."

he muttered under his breath, emerald eyes gleaming under moonlit glow as he looks at you, emotions too miscellaneous beyond the swirling pools of green that always keeps a watch on you.

sometimes, he feels less like a brother and more of a knight. sometimes, you wish to rebel and instead dig deep into what's been happening to your brother these past few years, shaped by experience you never once caught yourself transpiring through. sometimes, you wish he doesn't treat you like a glass ornament.

sometimes, you wish you had a normal family.

as much as his words were sweet, as much as you would've felt warmth at the mere affection and exception he holds you in regard to his heart, even if he takes your body in his arms prior to your previous rejection, all but melting and rocking your body to sleep; a common method he utilizes to make you feel drowsy, and to eventually forget the blood on his sheathed sword and sinful hands once your eyes drift to a close—

you still reflect upon his words even if weeks had already passed by after that incident, even if he must've thought your somnolence was enough to dismiss whatever was the 'grammatical' mistake he'd mumbled that night was a product of fatigue after a long day of work.

... because despite being the perfect family, despite the love and care they foster within your heart; washing off the beating emptiness in your chest was harder than any injuries you've obtained after momentary clumsiness.

at least you knew when those scars were incurred, at least you had people to comfort you through the tears that escaped through your eyes.

but this immaterial emptiness has long since festered within the confines of your caged soul.

it beckons you to choose rebellion, it traps your thumping heart and tightens its hold on it, snaring it in a pit you couldn't crawl yourself out of.

desire drives you further away from delusion, from the foundations of weaved lies and rose-tinted picturesque perfection.

and you began to crave satiation to at least mend the missing puzzle piece in your heart; piece by piece, stitch by stitch.

who is your father? what is a father? why did dami told me i'm like... our father?

as you sit alone in your bed, toys long forgotten, alone with only the cool breeze fluttering by your window to accompany you. the questions begin to grate at your mind, yet all you do is bring your knees closer to your chest, lips dry at the forgone isolation you put yourself through after a cycle of endless thinking.

"momma will be here soon," you mutter to yourself. your voice, meek and highly pitched, young and cradling childish curiosity; it breaks at the seams when your fingers bring itself to touch and wipe away at wet cheeks and tender, aching eyes.

dami was right; you are stubborn like your father.

because even if they try all necessary means to shroud your life in seclusion from reality— you don't easily back out of a losing fight.

even if the tears you shed from the lack of progress were insurmountable, even if you knew you were at a physical disadvantage shall push come to shove where you'd have to fight your dearest brother, even if it means struggling against the invisible shackle your beloved family locked you in.

because your perfect perception of your fucked up family has long since dissipated from the moment your servant and your brother mentioned a foreign word.

a simple word, a small mistake, yet acting as a newer path of life that long since diverged from the only way you knew how to live.

and you still wish to solve the mystery of your forlorn emptiness.

will you give up just so easily? would the tears you shed all become mere depression?

no, not even as you sit in your too-huge bed, with no clue on where or how to start a hopeless journey; too young to plan, too little to fight, too tenderhearted in the views of your family.

even then, your red, rubbed raw eyes seek to look back on your first hint from within the room

a dictionary was sprawled across the opposite end of the bed, thrown haphazardly, opened to a certain page that highlights words closest to 'father'.

you crawl, with sore arms and wobbly legs, to retrieve the heavy, hard-bound and gold-encased dictionary, lounging on your bed with a damaged spine.

your fingers return to traverse multiple pages yet again—

stubborn, impatient and impulsive.

earlier, it came to you in the form of realization that the dictionary your mentor assigned you to read had a missing word cut precisely with a blade and replaced with an unintelligible one.

earlier, you realized just how much your perfect family was only perfect because they've hidden the truth from you.

earlier should've been years ago, earlier should've never been swept off the rug so easily. but what could an eight year old like you do? you've none of damian's talents to quickly learn, you're raised differently. it is only now you wish you weren't so gullible.

and as your fingers strum against pages, near to ripping out expensive paper, tears unceasing, lips bitten 'til bleeding— you learn, and you grow beyond simple comprehension.

motivation, and the drive to uncover all things unsaid, even if the end would result in something negative.

through them, you'll soon learn of spite, of anguish, and bitter contempt.

but for now, you're merely left alone, with only a mantra of words all circling back to dami's words; so many questions left unanswered.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: honestly don't know half of what i wrote + i don't like this as much as i wanted it to come out. this went through multiple revisions with an added fact of me trying to discern why my writing style keeps fluctuating 😭 guys please comment about what you think of this. if this flops, i'm gonna quit writing LMAO. this is a bit more formal than my usual style (re: again & again) because i wanted to capture the regality of the al ghul's family partly told through the perspective of a child.

taglist: @th0rn118, @obsessedwithromance @rogueofbullshit @ch1cky-093, @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd, @confused-they @biiibs01, @ghostdoodlen, @earlqurl, @chericia, @herebyaccident0, @ilovemyhusbandnanami, @mintynilla, @lilyalone, @anonymousdisco, @plsfckmedxddy, @maria-figueiredo, @143637-hrrm, @neerathebrightstar, @jsprien213, @realifezompire, @sammytheotakunerd, @sh4rk-k1d, @confused-they, @peptox, @lillian-morningstar.

[limarkova]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 4.

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Author's note: Fully admit I squeel ever time someone comments on my post. Thank you guys so much, I can't explain the happy confidence this gives me. Also I have my ask open so if you want something explained more, pop on in there.

The world was a blur of blueish green. Bubbles floated up above you towards a flickering light over head. Your body was suspended in whatever the thick liquid around you was. You knew where you were, this was an old dream that followed you for as long as you could remember.

Above your head you could see two people swirling. One was Jason. He was in the suit they originally buried in and younger than he was now. He looked like when you were two. Soft fluffy hair splayed out in the viscus liquid. His tie floated out from under his suit jacket. You couldn't see his face as he was looking towards the light. Somehow though you knew it was his. The idea it was someone else made you laugh.

The second person you didn't know. He had welled groomed hair that seem to barely move as he floated. Parts of it were white but most of it was black. He had facial hair but you had never learned what the style was called. You had seen it in movies though. His features seem stoic and calm with closed eyes pointed towards you. He wasn't sleeping though. His eyes were close on purpose, he intentionally wouldn't look at the bottom. You knew you had known him at one point and would meet him again. This... pit connected you two.

As a child you had envied him. That his eyes were closed and he couldn't see the bottom. You had tried swimming to Jason to protect you from what you saw there. Tried swimming to the stranger too. All it did was flip you around. You couldn't close your eyes either. She wouldn't let you.

However, during the experiments you started looking by yourself. Maybe it was stress of the whole situation or your growing immunity to fear and pain. Whatever it was you were grateful for it. Towards the bottom was an endless darkness that pulsed and sang with power. There standing in that darkness was a woman. Her skin was burnt away, strands of hair dance to power's drum beat. At first her arms were by her side, only her head tilted up. That was when you tried to run out of fear. The first time you turned willing she seemed surprised. Her emotions rippled in you like your own did. Everytime after her arms were open to you. Reaching out to grab you.

After your meta abilities awoke in the experiments you started swimming to her. You felt drawn in by that pulsing power at the bottom. She was happy when you did that. You began to understand why she liked the bottom. At the bottom you were not just a part of something, you were everything. You pitied the stranger now, who refused to look towards the bottom. The water was fine but the bottom was eternity.

The woman at this point began would always grab your face. Her eyes would open, untouched by flames and so similar yet different to yours. They glowed the same color as your own. "Now is not the time. You are not ready to remember." And you understood. You needed to complete something beyond the dream. The time would come. "Wake up."

You groaned as gentle beams of sun danced on your face. Last night you tried sleeping in your old bed. Key word being tried. After an hour of tossing and turning you gave up. Climbing underneath your bed to feel safe out of sight.

The experiments had provided you a cot to sleep in. But with the constant blinking light of a camera, you felt vulnerable. Often they would drop you on that cot after a rough round than continued when you appeared awake. So instead you started sleeping on floor under the camera. It bought more time to recover from the worst of everything. The only way to see you in that spot was to look through a viewing slit in the door. Which was fine because it caused light to pour in on your face.

A light similar to the one pouring on your face right now. Jumping awake you began scanning the room. None of your limbs were restrained, that was good. This wasn't another round of shots, it was probably a test of your abilities. You had to assess the situation, figure out what they were going before it started.

The room was your old bedroom in the manor. There was pause in your mind as memories flowed in. Right, right. You had escaped you were no longer in the experiments. It was safe. Or this was another test. You dug your hands into your eyes. Later, you would worry about that later. Scanning the room you noticed that it was clean.

There was no more dust on your bookcases. All the bags from yesterday's shopping trip were gone. Your closet was cleaned out with the new clothes hanging there. Looking down at your hands you saw your notebook with the plan was still there.

Your bedsheets were different. The faint smell of mothballs gone, replaced with laundry detergent. Tilting your head to the side your brain began to form new questions. The digital clock by your bed that had died long ago now flashed the time: 6:34 am.

Climbing out of bed, you peaked under the bed. The nest you had made late last night was gone. Instead you saw clean empty space with a singular note. It was written in simple print hand writing you had never seen before. "Please don't sleep on the floor again. It scared Alfred- Cass. PS breakfast is at 7."

You blinked Alfred was in your room with Cass? How did you not wake up? Surely you should of have heard something. Though Cass had always been oddly quiet. You remembered being scared of her when she first started living in the manor. She always snuck up on you when you were playing or reading. Alfred's military training might explain how you didn't hear him entering.

You needed to be more cautious. Opening your notebook you drew a little ninja star next to Cass's name. Next to Alfred's name you drew a caution symbol. These two could catch you writing in the notebook and ruin everything. Assuming they haven't already read it.

You paused. Did they read it well you were asleep? That was something you needed to find out and fast. A smirk crossed your face when you read the note, "Better hurry down to breakfast."

Cass had always found communicating difficult. Growing up unable to speak had made the task feel impossible. So when she first arrived in the manor to find a curious six year old running around she began to wonder. Was that how she could have been had she be raised normally? Curious and talkative. So Cass observed the girl for the first three weeks.

Books were her favorite, followed by children diy kits that taught them science. Cass quickly identified that the girl liked learning while playing. She watched as she explained her experiments to a collection of stuff animals. She would listen to her like the girl really was a teacher.

However, she began to noticed a change. The girl became skittish and paranoid. Always looking over her shoulder, flinching at the house settling, staying in public areas near Alfred. It wasn’t until she heard a conversation between the girl and Alfred that she finally understood why.

Cass accidentally scared her. Appearing without any noise and just standing there listening had scared (Name). She felt terrible but wasn’t sure how to make it up to the girl. So Cass choose to stay away, find some other place to learn.

One day, Cass found the perfect way to apologize for scaring the girl. The Joker had escaped again and got way to close. Bruce discovered that he couldn't handle the idea of one of his kids getting hurt. Especially the vulnerable one. That being of course, (Name), the only civilian in the family. With Bruce on the edge of a mental breakdown worrying about her safety and coming back every night bleeding from beating up criminals, Dick asked for ideas. So Cass found the best way to get her out of Gotham. A school that was only for girls, that taught the science lessons that made her the most happy. A learning paradise that was perfectly safe.

(Name) never made it there. Cass felt sick even though it had been hours since she heard the news. Had her recommendation been what caused this? If she had never recommended that school than maybe (Name) wouldn't have disappeared for two years.

Early this morning around 4am, when they had gotten back to the manor Alfred had approached concerned. She was sleeping under her bed, clutching a notebook, and shaking. Literal full body tremors while nested in blankets that smelt like moth balls.

When they tried moving her, she kicked and screamed so much they had to sedate her. The tranquilizer they had used would keep her asleep for a few hours until Bruce arrived home. It unnerved all of them. What had she endured to have reactions like that? They all worked together to clean up her room before having breakfast.

The table was unusually quiet. Cass looked down the table, her ability broadcasting everyone's emotions to her. Dick was distraught, pushing the food on his plate around with wide eyes and a tense posture. Jason was angry, eating his food with a curled lip and tight shoulders. Tim looked to be somewhere between analytical and upset, he was focused on his phone probably working her case. Steph was concerned looking towards the stairway that led to (Name)'s room. Barbara's stress was getting to her, probably because she couldn't find anything last night. Duke was worried, glancing at the plate they had set out for (Name), just in case.

Cass looked towards Damian before blinking. He wouldn't look at any of them directly. His plate was untouched, same with the utensils set beside them. Something was swirling around in his eyes. He opened his mouth but closed it. Conclusion he wanted to say something but wasn’t.

"Damian?"

"Why did none of you tell me about my sister?" Damian's eye snapped to the table. They were narrowed with his face scrunched up. Arm crossed over his body with stiff shoulders. He was angry.

Tim's posture straighten. His eyebrows knitted together and he blinked twice. His mouth open partially before closing than opening again to speak. Confusion. "We did?"

Damian growled like a beast. His hand gripped his arms tightly, "Telling me I have a sister is not the same as telling me about my sister."

"Oh." Jason barred his teeth jabbing a finger towards Damian. "Why didn't you ask about her. When we told you, you have a sister why didn't you ask?"

"Because I was certain you were talking about Cain." Damian gestured to Cass. She looked down at her own untouched plate. That wasn't her fault, right?

The table went silent. Cass refused to analysis the situation again. Her eyes remained glued to the plate. Someone cleared their throat, "Morning?"

Cass looked to the stairway finding (Name) standing there. She awoke from the tranquilizer early, way to early in fact. She should have been asleep until well in the afternoon. Everyone shared one look, silenting agreeing to not mention the tranquilizer. (Name's) shoulders were tense and her body was angled away from them slightly. Most of her weight shifted away from them. Eyes rapidly moving around the room. Her hands gripping the backpack she was currently wearing. Conclusion she was willing to run. There was a good chance she remember earlier.

Duke smiled at her brightly, "Good Morning. Your plates over here if your hungry. What's with the backpack?"

"Thanks." She walked towards her chairs. Her steps measured, her chin high and eyes focused on where she was going. She would have appeared confident if not for the tension throughout her whole body. (Name) took off her backpack and set it next to her chair. She answered Duke's question as she sat, "I have some research projects from school I need to wrap up. Might not be getting a grade anymore but I still wanna finish them."

Another unspoken agreement occurred between everyone. Dick clear his throat before speaking, "Oh what are you researching? Perhaps one of us could help."

"Don’t worry about it." She shook her head, grabbing her silverware. There was a shift in her facial expression, it was subtle but edged. Cass snapped her eyes to Dick shaking her head slightly. "Oh, hey Cass. I saw your note earlier."

Cass's throat dried up. She nodded. (Name) stabbed her fork into the waffle on her plate. "Thanks for telling about breakfast but can you not go in my room again. I have a... system and it's frustrating when people... mess with it."

Tension rippled down the table. She almost certainly did remember being tranquilized. She let out a small half laugh, "side effect of roommates, am I right?"

"Yeah. Hey why don't you tell us about them." Steph forced her smile. Cass had the vaguest sense of being on a chess board. She wasn't sure what the girl's ulterior could be though. (Name) continued to eat offering a noncommittal shrug.

"Not much to tell. They were..." Her eyes darken. She looked up for a few seconds, "troublesome." That was an understatement to mislead them.

Barbara took up the topic. This was their best chance to get information for the investigation. She made the next move on the board, "Oh, that doesn't sound good. What did they do?"

(Name) reached for her cup and took a sip. She was delaying giving them information but trying to be causal. They weren't going to get the full truth from whatever was said next, "Stealing and reading my diary." Those darken eyes flicked to Cass. She wasn't giving information she was... verbally attacking.

"Oh." The word slipped from Cass's mouth. That notebook she was clutching in her sleep. Did she think one of them read it? They couldn’t if they wanted to, she had a death grip on it in her sleep. Oh no. She wouldn't tell them information willing if she thought they had violated her privacy. Cass thought of a subtle way to hint that none of them looked. "That’s rude."

"Yeah, good thing no one here would do that right?" Her words were a test. This was a chess board and she was about to get the information she wanted. Everyone murmured something along the lines of agreement. Cass joined in feeling (Name) stare burn into her. Finally (Name) smiled happily and Cass felt herself relax.

The carefree six year old was back with that smile. Cass's mind flashed with memory. She wanted to make that kid happy and join in with the teddy bears recieving a chemistry lesson. Read the pile of books surrounding the girl together. She wanted to have the childhood she missed out on with (Name). Once they solved the case on what happened two years ago, Cassandra would do everything she could to experience that.

"Hey Alfred." (Name) moved on. The six year old disappearing again. Calculation shown in her eyes. Right chess board, she was making another move, "I know I told Duke about this but I figured I should tell you myself. My debit card, the one my allowance is transferred to, was stolen at school. Can you get that canceled for me? Oh! Maybe we'll were doing that we should talk to the family accountant about disputing the charges."

"Very well, Miss. I will arrange a meeting with Mr. Davis to discuss the actions necessary." Alfred nodded from where he sat at the table. (Name) lip twitch subtly and her lips flickered. That move had put her closer to something important. Cutting of financial means to someone.

Cass nudged Tim's foot under the table. They had to take this chance to try and figure out who she wanted cut off. Tim looked at her, blinked once than asked, "Did your roommates take your card?"

"No..." (Name) paused "I think it was a teacher but I can't prove it." There it was. Who ever she was cutting off was important to something. Not principal or student but teacher somewhere in the middle. Their first major clue in the investigation, whoever had her debit card was involved in what happened. "Anyways, I'm full. I'm gonna go to the library now." This round was over for now.

"I will accompany you." Damian stood from the table.

(Name) snorted grabbing her bag, "Yeah, no. I don't want you anywhere near me. Beside, I study better alone."

Damian's face fell. The poor boy looked devastated, Cass couldn't blame him. It must of felt like the same rejection she felt as when she accidentally scared little (Name). Dick spoke up "Hey, that's unnecessary. Don't talk to Damian like."

(Name) half laugh dismissively, jabbing a thumb towards her half brother. "Dude, he full blown shoved me into a wall yesterday. Why would I want to hang out with him after that?"

Damian immediately stepped forward. (Name) went on the defensive, back into that bolting stance. "I thought you were an intruder." Silence huge heavy in the air. (Name)'s mouth huge open and she looked Damian over twice. A small puff of air. Conclusion, she was upset.

"Wow!" Sarcasm dripping from the word like it was a wet rag freshly removed from running water, "That’s the strangest apology I've ever heard. I'm gonna go well you think that over."

She left the room quickly after that. Everyone looked at each other uncertainly. Finally Duke spoke, "Told you."

"What?" Jason's face morphed from a mixture shock and impressed to confusion.

"She has a shit list and Damian's name is underlined."

Damian's stance harden. His face flickering between steel and despair. He marched out of the room muttering, "You should have told me more about my blood sister."

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Fully admit I struggled writing this chapter. Special thanks to the anonymous asker who gave me the idea of Damian being disappointed with the family about the lack of information on reader.

Taglist:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills @yhin-gg @twismare @charlenexoxo1 @a-lurking-fae @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92

[dollwhite]

AUNT READER

Aunt reader who use to read Damian stories before bed.

Aunt reader who’s voice is exactly like Talia’s

Aunt reader who use to tell Talia “let the boy have a day off, yk you would have killed to have a break when u were his age.”

Aunt reader who’s not that happy about Damian being trained when he was just 4 years old. (She doesn’t want him to go through the things her and Talia use to go through)

Aunt reader who was happy about Damian going with his father. He can finally get away from all that nonsense.

Aunt reader who only stayed with Ra and Talia for so long was so Damian could have a loving adult near.

Aunt reader who got into a fistfight with Talia about Damian

Aunt reader who left to the other side of the world when Damian left.

Talia: Sister, what brings u here… after five years.

Aunt reader putting her sunglasses on top of her head, while holding a coffee: well I heard that Damian’s father allowed u to have visits with him, now where does his father live?

Talia: you shell not try and walk into my sons life just like that , you have not had contact with me for years! And how did u find that out?

Aunt reader: I have eyes and ears everywhere. I may have left the League but the league has not left me… Now where does my Nephew stay? Mattter of fact when does he come to visit u?

Talia: Where my son is currently resting is nun of your business.

Aunt reader: ahh sister do not be like that.. one of or another I will find out where he is.. and u will not be able to 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 me..

Um do u guys fw this? I low-key don’t like it…….. But the idea of Talia having a twin sister that looks and sounds just like her is just<𝟑𝟑𝟑𝟑𝟑𝟑𝟑 the only difference is their personalityssss

[kanroji-san]

Mitsuri!Y/n/Reader AU

Ra: Oh, there Mitsuri!Y/n is! Do you mind if I slyly mention that you’re single?

Seth: First, I am not single. Second, don't do that.

Ra: Oh come on, you won’t even notice!

Mitsuri!Y/n: You wanted to see me, Lord Ra?

Ra: *In excited voice* Seth is single!!

Seth: RA!!!

@platinumrosetail

[vanilladollette]

Beneath The Surface (Yandere The Glory x reader)

I decided to write a Yandere The Glory x reader. Just a heads up, I have never written an x reader story or a yandere x reader but I decided to give it a try. I hope that when I write this, I don't make the reader unrealistic as I would put it. Though I would appreciate feedback.

Link:

Wattpad

Quotev

[sheraandtheprincessofpower]

I Fucking Hate You

Yandere! Catra x Fem! Reader Tw: NSFW, Hate-sex, Dubious-Consent, She pretends you're Adora, Fem! Reader, Lesbian sex, Name calling, Dry humping, Blackmailing, Porn w/ Plot 🔞18+ Content due to dark and adult themes. Read at your own risk

"What the hell is wrong with you!"

You watched as Catra aimed to claw Scorpia's face. Luckily she back away just in time. You looked around, trying to see if anyone would stand up to Catra, but everyone was avoiding looking at them.

"You can't treat her like that!"

Catra looked towards all the cadets, "Who said that." She pointed a finger towards you all.

They all took a step back, leaving you at the front line. "Backstabbing snitches," You groan under your breath.

"What do you know about being Force Captain?" She asks, walking closer to you.

"I know how to treat my teammates. No wonder Adora left."

You knew the moment those words left your mouth you were a dead woman. Lonnie was about to speak up, but Catra raised her hand. "Everyone leave."

"But-"

Catra whips around towards Scorpia, "LEAVE NOW! ALL OF YOU." You were about to turn around, but Catra points towards you, "Expect you... Y/n, right?"

"What does it matter?"

She didn't speak until the last cadet left the room. But, not before Scorpia looked back, giving you a look of sympathy.

"You stepped out of line, Soldier."

"I sure did. And I would do it again. You were out of line-"

Her laugh interrupts you. She gestures to the room, "Do you know where we are, Y/n?"

"The Horde?"

"Hell. We are in Hell. This isn't Princess land, you've got to look out for yourself."

"That's a terrible thing to say, Catra."

"Well, it's true and that's why I'm Force Captain and you're just a Soldier."

"Yeah, but you're also willing to step on anyone that gets in your way."

"Maybe you should be more like me."

"I'd rather be dead."

"Well, if you ever," She steps closer to you, causing you to step back, "Try standing up to me again, I will give you death." She retracts her claws, bringing them close to your face.

You gulp, tilting your head up.

"Don't ever cross me again."

----

For the past two months, since the incident, Catra had decided to keep you close. She didn't need anyone thinking they could act like you and step up to her. If they saw that she kept you in line, they'd learn there are consequences.

She had you on cleaning duties, but she was always present when you did it. She said it was to make sure you did it right, but you think she has a sick twisted pleasure in watching people suffer.

You snarled, scrubbing at the walls of the cafeteria. Catra sat at one of the tables, her feet propped up on the table. She leaned on her hand and you looked up at her frustrated.

"Can I stop now? I've been doing this for 5 hours."

"I haven't broken a sweat."

"I hate you."

"I'll live. Besides I don't care."

You roll your eyes and continue to scrub. Catra gets up from her seat, stretching out her back. She sighs, before kneeing to your level, "Come with me."

"Where?"

"You ask to many questions. Come," She uses the 'Come here' motion.

You begrudgingly and reluctantly follow behind her. She took you down familiar paths and doors, before leading you to Cadet Rooms. You hadn't been in these rooms in ages.

"Lay down," She gestures to the bed that you assumed was once hers and Adora's.

You awkwardly lay on the uncomfortable bed, struggling to fit inside the small compartment. She laughed at your struggle and you glare at her. She jumps on you, practically sitting on your bladder, just like a fucking cat.

"God, Catra, can you move?"

She rolls her eyes, but moves her legs and scoots up your chest. She puts her pointer finger on your forehead, lightly pushing you back.

"Why don't you just lay down, Y/n?"

"This isn't a very comfortable bed, Catra."

"Nothing's comfortable in the Horde. Now shut up," She shoves you down, hard.

You groan when feeling the hard concrete-like beds slam into your back. God, you were now realizing why you had back problems. She slowly rubbed herself on you, confusing you.

You were going to question what the FUCK she was doing, but you heard her whimper the name 'Adora' and you made a face of realization. You tried pushing against her, but she quickly grabbed your hands.

"If you let me do this, you'll never have to clean the food court again."

You spread your legs and pulled back your hands, "So what are we doing?"

"WE're not doing anything. You're going to shut up and I'm going to do what I want," She gets off you, before grabbing something from a cabinet.

You were scared, but it was just a cadet's headset. You were confused, but she put it on you and your vision was obscured. You could no longer see Catra, but you could feel her rubbing against you.

"You're such a bitch," You could feel her hands grip your throat. You reached for her, trying to stop her, "I don't know why you left. Why you think those stupid princesses are better than me."

You could feel your face redden at the buzzing sound of Catra's voice. Where these helmets always bad at taking in sound? Huh, maybe you had a hearing problem? You could feel the removal of your pants and you froze.

"Um Catra-"

"Shut up, Adora."

You could feel her sharp claws get threateningly close to your neck. She slowly thrusted into you back and forth. The only thing you could hear was her light moans of Adora's name and 'Yes! Mmmm, yeah! Ahhh.' Man, you wish you were on whatever the hell she was on.

You then felt something wet run across your cervix. The claws you were terrified of, but would never admit due to your pride, were circling around your clit, pressing into it. You could feel her stick her tongue down your vagina, and squish your gummy walls.

Catra could feel your gummy walls squeeze and flush against her sharp tongue. Your body shivers as you feel her little spines roughly groom your insides. She licked up your opening, making sure you're soaked.

There was a long drown of silence and you thought it was over. That was until you felt Catra grab one of your thighs and lifting it up. She pushed her pussy into your, causing you to loudly moan.

She heard you, causing her to smirk to herself, "Aww, look at you, enjoying it?"

She wasn't actually asking, it was just teasing. She continued to thrust into you, her moans echoing in your ears.

"Adora... Adora... ADORA!" She moaned loudly, before everything slows down.

You can hear her get off the bed and what sounds like her putting on clothes.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll kill you."

You nodded your head, totally on board with keeping this between you both. And then you heard the door shut. You went to move your hands, but you quickly realized you were immobilized.

Oh god, did that bitch tie you up?

[helpfandom]

Platonic Yandere BTAS villains pt3

Ra's al Ghul

Clock King

Max Zeus { Also known as: Maxamillion, Maxie Zeus}

Scarface and Ventriloquist

Thank you yandere-auxillary https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share

Ra's Al Ghul: This man is Possessive, Manipulative, and Clingy. Don't you realize that all of this is for your safety? He has major trust issues with children, wondering if the child who will now be his new heir will betray him just like Talia would. How y'all would meet is quite honestly, a coin flip, I am unsure of what specifics he needs for a darling, nor what would be needed for a meeting, hence why I don't know. My apologies. He's manipulative in that he has no guilt in forcing you to come with him, using his excuse of 'just an old man' to trick you into coming close to the vehicle while you help him... I don't think he sees you as you anymore, he sees you as more of an heir, a doll to become the next in the Al Ghul line.

Clock King: Obsessive, Impulsive, Self-Indulgent. He's always been shown to be obsessive, with -likely, because of my own characteristics of him having OCD, hence his obsession with- time. He's methodical, yet impulsive once he's realized that he can't go back to the time before, to when he was 'normal', when everything was right. on. time. He needs a darling that understands, that sympathizes, and he would fall in obsession of following your schedule by watching you, checking every little thing you do that happens to coincide with what happened the day before, and well, since you also have a strict schedule, clearly you understand why he also has such a strict schedule and because the Mayor ruined everything, perhaps you see why he has to kill the mayor too?

Max Zeus: Delusional, man already thinks he's Zeus and if that's not delusional, then we need reevaluate delusion. Possessive, and slightly Sadistic. He thinks that you can take any hits that you may have with him as a father, seeing as he thinks of you as a god. [Obviously one of Zeus' children, so at least you can be Apollo or Artemis or Athena or...] Never the less, the wants to control all that you do and yet nothing you do at the same time. He has no jealousy, but can't stand to see you try to do something that goes outside of your little box together that he set for you.

Scarface and Ventriloquist: Self-Indulgent, Overprotective, Clingy, are all traits of Ventriloquist, but Scarface? Sadistic, Delusional, Impulsive. Not a good combination. They each combat the other's traits, while only providing a toxic [not to say that Yandere isn't toxic but I digress] environment for someone to be around, much less someone they want to protect. Scarface would surprisingly be the one to fall into delusion first, with Ventriloquist being the second to become obsessed. Your uncaring attitude went a long way to becoming their new heir. Scarface wants you to take over the criminal business, whilst Ventriloquist wants you to stay as far away from it as one can be in Gotham. This just causes tensions amongst all of the criminals as the child who doesn't want to be here is clamored after.

[frickingnerd]

yandere sea hawk

pairing: sea hawk x gn!reader

tags: mostly wholesome fluff, mentions of marriage & having children, clingy!sea hawk, devoted yandere

sea hawk doesn't think that he's a yandere! if you'd ask him, he'd simply tell you that he's a romantic!

to him, it's natural that he'd want to spend all his time with you, shower you with gifts and compliments and do anything to make you smile!

sea hawk is absolutely devoted to you, his beloved darling and he'd rob the sky of its stars if you'd want them! even if it's impossible, he'd find a way! for you!

sea hawk trusts you blindly, whether it's about you spending time with other men or about telling him anything

if you tell him a person is bad, then they must be bad! if you tell him that guy is just a friend, then he's just a friend! after all, you would never lie to him…

sea hawk wants to get domestic with you soon, preferably settle down and have tons of children that he can coddle!

[gulnarsultan]

How about platonic!ra's Al Ghul x metachild gn!reader

Sernario: reader is new to the batfamily and is Steph's younger sibling. And end up getting captured in a fight along with Damian. Their options are to join the league or

Batman and Steph will die.

Reader calls his bluff but what will happen? The rest is up to you 🫵

Ra's meets your reader when he goes to the mansion. Reader and Damian fight. Ra's feels the need to take your reader under his wing. Ra's presents the reader with options in no time. The reader probably agrees, for Batman and Steph's sake. But when the Batfamily finds out, chaos will ensue. Damian gets very angry with his grandfather. He is ready to fight his grandfather alone for the reader. Batfamily will fight to save your reader. Perhaps the reader and Ra's have come to an agreement as they learn. This time, the batfamily will go crazy if the reader chooses to stay with Ra's himself. Maybe both sides will find a way of reconciliation for the reader.

[dreamsfullofwoe]

Prezada filha mais velha de Bruce Wayne,

Perdoe-me por escrever esta carta sem o seu consentimento ou conhecimento prévio. Eu sei que nossas famílias têm uma história conturbada, mas eu espero que você possa olhar além disso e entender que eu a escrevo com sinceridade.

Eu não posso negar que sempre admirei sua inteligência, coragem e habilidades excepcionais. Você é uma mulher notável e eu sinto uma grande atração por sua força de caráter. Desde que a vi pela primeira vez, eu percebi que você era diferente de todas as mulheres que já conheci. E quando descobri que você era a filha de Bruce Wayne, percebi que estava diante de alguém ainda mais especial.

Eu não posso evitar sentir uma certa afinidade com Bruce, pois compartilhamos muitas crenças e objetivos. Mas, ao contrário dele, eu sou capaz de enxergar além da justiça convencional e da ordem estabelecida. Eu acredito que é preciso fazer escolhas difíceis para alcançar um bem maior. E é por isso que eu acho que nós poderíamos ser grandes aliados e até mesmo, quem sabe, mais do que isso.

Eu sei que Bruce já tem uma família, mas eu espero que você considere a possibilidade de explorar nossos sentimentos e conexões. Eu sou um homem de recursos e tenho muito a oferecer, tanto em termos de proteção quanto de amor e cuidado.

De qualquer forma, eu espero que esta carta não seja recebida como uma ameaça ou uma invasão de privacidade. Eu só queria expressar meus sentimentos e dizer que estou aberto a um diálogo e a uma possível aproximação.

Com sinceros votos de felicidade e prosperidade,

Ra's Al Ghul

[acid-ixx]

do i look like him?

— just another series concept. please note that talia sexually assaulting bruce is retconned in whatever portrayal i have of her. i will not tolerate any racist or sexist remarks towards her character for a mischaracterized version of her, written by some gooner.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

i don't know if anybody would be interested in a certain premise i'm planning. taylor's song, "like him" is resonating off of my body, and i've a draft written inspired off of the song featuring yandere batfam x damian's twin! reader x yandere! al ghul family.

wherein instead of being neglected, you're treated like royalty by your own family. your twin is subjected to the cruelty of being raised as an assassin. you're met with scarred hands, nicked back, and calloused skin every time he comes back from your shared room after another particularly harsh training. yet every time you worry for your older twin, he'd silence you with the same bloodied hands that handled bodies like ragdolls, gently like it has never killed, with hushed promises whispered by your ear that "this is necessary for your protection, akhi/akhti."

at first you'd be convinced that this family lifestyle is normal. your mother is doting, she is kind, she is where you learned the word mercy; unlike the fierce image she displays in public. you're often spoiled rotten with her favorite shades of clothes, and her teachings emanate within you a deep sense of loving for animals. you never truly see her cruelty for other humans, as she often makes you sit by her lap upon a seat you call a throne when you were all but a mere five year old, playing with your hair, muttering affirmations and cradling you on her chest every time you ponder too deeply about the word, 'father'.

a word you'd read from those fairytales by the library, a word you craved to know, a word forbidden to be stated by everybody within your castle-like home.

she'll call upon your brother every time your curiosity gets the best of you, and the duo would try their best to sway your attention away with playtime. either it'd be stories, or damian showing you new tricks he'd learn from masters long overthrown by your twin, or it would be as simple as talia dragging both her beloved children to the huge kitchen, demanding the head chefs to bake you and your brother's favorite dessert (a little moment to spoil your brother after a hard-earned day of training, even if damian isn't always fond of sweet confectionaries; your grin would always tempt him to take a bite of your food if it means spending a day being himself).

it seems even damian plays along with the sick fantasy of not acknowledging the possibility of an alive father figure to you. not like you'd be aware of it, too caught up with your grandfather teaching you about rare species' on the verge of extinction, his (rarely) soft gaze fixed on the way your small body would gently pat the face of his wolf companion, or your brother constantly vying for you, his younger twin's, attention, eliminating all possible rivals who could potentially act as your future playmate that only he has the privilege for, or how your mother seeks you, her youngest baby, out, for a day of rest after another mission, doting smooches on your face, her lipstick smearing all over the soft chub of your cheeks, dismissing your pouts

a perfect family, with not much left to desire for your part.

so why is it that talia would often hear damian complain about your sudden fixation about a father figure? you'd mumble, something about one of your servants who mentioned visiting her father for vacation, a man who works as a merchant for his family; you asked them what your father's job was, what his name was, "why isn't he here at the family dinner?"

you asked, with wide, pitiful eyes, a feature long foreign for hardened assassins, but associated only with you. a quality nobody in the league dares to criticize; your gentleness the only thing keeping their leaders sane, keeping most servants alive as you find precious each and every single living being; not exclusive to animals or plants, but to humans too.

you're the league's only hope for reprieve, for softness in the moments of emboldened duties and priorities. you're the fingers that caress on calloused skin and the lips that kiss bloody scars. the hearth that warms even the coldest of hearts.

which was why nobody attempted to answer you, no matter how much it breaks your heart; because nobody wanted to ruin your soft and kind heart, or see the sullen droop in your eyes, or red, sniffling nose.

yet once ra's heard the confession of you being aware of what a father is like through the mouth of your servant, he'd immediately demanded another assassin to eliminate whoever dared mentioned such preposterous concepts to his grandchild.

throughout their rage, throughout damian nuzzling his head on the crown of your, muttering that whatever his baby sibling is sputtering is nonsensical, mere fantasy, arms encasing your entire body. he'd cradle you, run his hands against your hair even with furrowed, always angered brows; all the same questions lingered in the back of their minds:

is your current family not enough? why is it that the more you grow, the more you... wear the same expression of stubbornness, a quality your mother is sure you've adopted from you... father.

she may not be the best mother, taking both you and damian away from the arms of bruce wayne after she had learned about her pregnancy after a night spent together with the man, but she did it for the sake of her children; for your future, too.

bruce wayne will not be a good influence to you. if he tries so much to subject you into becoming another one of his robins, destroying your innocence, your perception of the world into a bleak portrayal of lackluster colors— ra's wouldn't hesitate to destroy the entirety of bruce's home.

and the manor is nothing! nothing, mind you, compared to the castle you call your home. only you deserve the richest of the rich, the shiniest jewels and the best treatment in the world. what more can gotham offer you? what more, if not for broken bones and bruised knees?

and so they settled upon ruining your perception of your father, with no known face to be plastered upon your memory, no known source, or picture— at such an early age.

if you yearn so much for a father, why not paint the image as dark as the cowl he wears?

why don't they feed you lies about him never wanting you and your twin in the first place? you'll be given opportunities to call an empty line, hoping your father would pick up, would respond and tell you that he's coming for you. they'll give you time to write letters, even if it takes your crummy fingers hours to finish a dedicated letter for your father, after years of being unable to meet him; it causes all the more ache in your mother's chest, witnessing her beloved youngest stay up late, whispering whimsical wishes about how excited you are to read your father's reply to you.

all your mother could do was kiss your forehead as she sat by your side, and rub your delicate cheeks with her fingers, mumbling that her baby should sleep now.

your mother never lies to you, no?

at least, not outright in your face.

damian, hates seeing the heartbreak in your eyes, but he's the very same twin who comforts you every damn time you fall to your knees after discovering that the letters you sent to your father's locations were long since unanswered — even if they're all hidden away in a vault of every possession you thought you lost. he'll pick you up with his trained body, and you'll melt even further into his form, shivering at the prospect that you're an unwanted child in the face of your father.

soon.

soon, you'll learn to despise bruce with every being of your soul, and learn to only reserve the association of warmth for your only family. you'll be the spoiled royal of the al ghul, and you'll come to find yourself grateful that you're raised without his presence, deluded into thinking that he abandoned you, that he never truly cared in the first place.

you love your family, you hate bruce wayne.

he is not family.

he is not your father, he lost that status long ago right after you thought he'd ignore all your calls, your messages, letters, gifts, every and any signal sent to the man you once called your father right after learning his name. he made you hope, he left the light flicker once flickering within you now blown away, leaving only an empty husk of your wanting to meet your father.

you hate bruce, you hate him so fucking much, you're ashamed that he's even your father in the first place— even if he's the very same man working tirelessly, day and night, to save you, once he caught news of what his children looks like, and locks eyes with your hopeful ones, a rare sight amongst the imagery of assassin. he plans to retrieve you, to save you, from the castle you call your home; truly what you call your cage.

little did you know that you are more like your father than you are with what you call your family.

— heavily inspired by @anxiousnerdwritings portrayal of twin!reader.

a/n: i honestly don't know half of what i wrote. i'm out of my mind, and i'm honestly not confident with the outcome of this concept. if people do like it (leave comments, or inputs, or whatsoever) i might post a chapter about this (since i do have one written in my drafts a week or two ago). if not, i'm dropping this and leaving it as a concept mostly, a one-time thing at best. so if anybody does like this, please do tell me. i do have a lot in store for this concept, specifically the way manipulation works within this family convincing you the other side is evil; i've been through this once w/ my family actually ngl, so writing this was a bit fun.

[limarkova]

Experimental Obsession

Formerly Know as: Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt 1.

Next

*Author's note: this was not beta and was written at midnight.

Two years. That's how long you had been struggling to survive in hell. The experiments had been brutal in every way imaginable. In the end they had gotten their goal: a meta human capable of healing any illness or wound, with an extended life span.

However you had come out of it too defiant. Some part of you had clung to the child's hope you're family would swoop in and save you. Sure they were often busy and didn't have time for you, but they had still cared right? There was no way they hadn't noticed you were missing for two years. No they had to be on the case, maybe just waiting for that last clue. A clue you would give them by escaping your captors and spitting in the scientist's face as your family torn their facilities apart. Beside, you were capable of escaping by yourself so who cared that they didn't show up.

The security system at the front gates still recongized your fingerprint and retinas. Walking up the pathway, you admired the gardener's work. It looked so different from when you were last here. There was a bubbling in your stomach. Imagines flash in you mind of your brothers being so happy to see you.

Dick with his wide smile, wrapping you in his arms. He would check for injuries and you two would finally have that movie night he promised two years ago. Jason would demand answers and swear to make whoever hurt you pay. You knew he would do it to, all so you could sleep easy knowing they couldn’t hurt you anymore. Tim would listen before getting to work. He would ensure everyone connected to the experiments would be destroyed. Hunt down their suppliers and financial providers. They would protect and help you move past the experiments.

After them were your sisters. Babs, Cass, and Steph would let you in to girls night this time. You would get to watch those cringy 'reality' TV shows, take part in the fashion show, and play around the whole night. Than in the morning Babs would help the boys take out the experiments. Cass and Steph would be right there with them of course before teaching you how to defend yourself.

Alfred would also help you. He would tutor you and help you catch up on school you missed. Not running off to help the others. Just you too bonding. Maybe he would even read the Wizard of Oz to you. Just he promised when you were five.

Lastly, your father Bruce Wayne. He would finally pay attention to you. Postpone his business meetings, decline the galas, take a night off from patrol as Batman because his baby girl was home. The last remaining shred of your mother and his lover. You would be important enough for him.

You blinked as your hand touch cold metal. The front door. Right you must have gotten lost in thoughts again. You could feel every hope you tucked into the hidden part of you heart over the past two years creep out of the shadows. They started to clean the cobwebs out of and prepare the space for warmth.

The door creaked up to a dreary entrance hall. You couldn't put your finger on what made the space feel dark. Sunlight still pour through the grand windows. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen. Yet there was a weight in the air that made the room feel empty and wrong. It looked and felt as if you had never left.

You began to wonder the halls in search of anyone. The quiet pressed down on your shoulders and feet. You never had thought you would miss the continuous buzz of medical equipment you couldn't name. Yet that seem better the suffocating silence that was clawing at you. You heard a faint noise from the living room.

Sitting in the living room was Tim, Steph, and Jason. Tim was texting on his phone, Jason was reading, and Steph was eating popcorn as she watched a show. It was normal.

Completely normal.

It was as if you hadn't disappeared for two years. Steph turned to look at you, a fistful of popcorn suspended mid-air, "Hey. How you doing?"

"I'm..." Your throat felt like gum. Her reaction was disappointing? Confusing? You couldn't think of the right word, "fine."

"That’s good." She turned back to the TV. Conversation over. Tim and Jason didn't even look up from what they were doing. You shuffled to the next room in a daze.

The kitchen felt like it had also barely changed. There were some new appliances but they sat where the old ones had. Dick and Cass leaned against the center island enjoying steaming cups of something. Cass turned to nod at you and Dick smiled at brightly, "Hey (Name). It's been a minute, how you doing?"

Your head tilted to the side. Two years had to be more than 'a minute'. A weight began to push against the hopes in your heart. They slowed their cleaning, a few began to retreat back to the darkness. You blinked twice before answering, "Fine. Where... where's dad?"

"Oh I think B had a business trip this week. He'll be back Tuesday." Dick shrugged before someone walked into the kitchen. Someone new. He was taller than Cass and shorter than Dick but not by much. He was also young, you would bet a few years younger than Tim. Dick gave him an even brighter smile, "Hey Duke."

"Who's this?" You pointed at him and blinked. Was a friend of Tim's? Maybe Steph?

"Oh, you two weren't introduced. Duke this is-" Dick patted Duke on the shoulder gesturing to you.

"(Name)"

"Duke Thomas. Alfred didn't mention anyone else living in the manor." Duke gave you a friendly smile and held out his hand. You shook it but could feel your head spinning. This didn't make sense.

"Alfred didn't mention me?" The words felt blocky. It was like you were a computer shutting down. Not only was everyone acting normal, there was a new person and it seemed like they knew you were gone. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well. I... I'm gonna go... lie down."

"Oh, okay." Duke's face scrunched up. He looked as confused as you felt. You left the kitchen dazed, clinging to the hall as your feet stumbled to your bedroom.

Something wasn't right. Why was everyone acting like you had just gone on a trip? You were gone for two years. Ripped out of the garden and held captive for two years in horrifying conditions. Submitted to endless hours of shocks, shots, burns, and twisted wires to a point it all blend into a red flim in your memory. All that before finally escaping just to have everyone act like you had been on vacation.

Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden harsh shove. A hand gripped your shoulder tightly creating temporary bruises on your skin. Ringing took over the cacophonous noise in your head. As you looked at your attacker you saw a boy. He wasn't that much taller or older than you. His mouth moved and you barely registered his words, "Who are you? How did you get into the manor?"

Something froze. This boy looked like a copy of your dad. There was a feeling of having all the puzzle pieces but no way to connect them. The bigger picture so blurred you couldn't tell what was supposed to go where. A voice broken the silence, "Master Damian! Unhand her this insistence."

Alfred. Surely he knew what was going on. He could tell you why everyone was acting like you were on vacation instead of kidnapped, or who this new boy was and why he looked like your dad.

The boy looked to Alfred but his hand didn't leave your shoulder, "Who is she and how did she bypass the manor's security?"

"She is your half sister." Alfred marched towards you. Taking Damian's hands from you, he placed himself in between you two. "She has been away at a boarding school for the past two years."

The pieces clicked with a deafening pop. Boarding school. It made sense now why everyone was so causal. You weren't kidnapped in their eyes, you had simply been sent away. Your coming back was expected on some level.

Another realization hit shortly after that. Boarding schools ment tuition payments that were expected to be paid by 'loving parents' who knew where there children were. Boarding school explained when a kid was missing from a wealthy for a period of time to those who would care to ask. A boarding school was the perfect cover for experiments in a highly secured facility.

Surely your dad wouldn't do that, right? He's Batman, a protector of the city. Someone who was ment to be moral and a role model. More importantly, you were what remained of your mother. The last piece of her and your dad's picture book romance. The billionaire CEO that falls in love with his secretary. This had to be a misunderstanding or miscommunication.

Damian's voice cut through your thoughts, again. "How old are you?"

"What?" The question was mis-timed and absurd to be asked immediately after he attacked you.

"I must ensure I am still the eldest blood child and father's heir." He said it so matter of fact like. As if he already knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.

"Ten."

"Hmm. We are the same age." He glared at you through Alfred before lifting his chin, "Date of birth."

"You first." You hated this boy already. He was as self-righteous and arrogant as the scientists in that damn place. Defiance crackled in your veins at the thought. You would not answer anymore questions from him.

"Both of you, stop it. Miss (Name) was born on (DOB) the year after you. You are older but not by much. Master Damian was born on November 11th" Alfred said the words and there was another pop.

"I'm going to my room." You didn't care what was said after that. It was like a wildfire started in your heart. Consuming the oxygen in your lungs to breath was impossible. You could feel them dying. Your hopes, succumbing to the flames, burning away to ash. Some part of you tried to save them with hot tears. It was already too late.

Your room felt like a tomb tucked away in the attic. A thin layer of dust coated everything, telling you not even Alfred bothered to come up here. Good, you wanted to be alone.

The numbers ran in your head again. Than once more. They raced through your head, years, timelines, before finally settling. In order for you and Damian to be born by those dates, your father had to be cheating on your mother with his. That or Bruce had used your mother to get over Damian's. You stumbled towards your dusty bed and fished around underneath it. Pulling out your mother's diary you began to skim the pages.

Swirls flew past your fingers. Finally you they ran over her cursive letters. "Bruce mentioned a woman name Talia. He talked about her with a mix of longing and betrayal. I wonder what happened?" There it was. The crack in your mother's love story, Talia.

Maybe it had been a whirlwind romance for your mother. Her diary was proof of that but your father. No, you couldn't prove she was important to him and by proxy you. Maybe you were so unimportant, unwanted, he could hand you other to those scientists and tell everyone it was a boarding school. All you had to do was prove it and burn him down.

Talia would never admit that she check on Damian frequently. No if anyone asked she was ensuring he followed his training regime. That didn't stop the surprise however to see a girl his age approach the manor gates.

She carried herself with a purpose but lack all the tells of training. Yet that wasn't what held Talia's attention, it was her eyes. They held a cautious fire and moved like she expected it be put out at any moment. It caused Talia's sixth sense to kick in, the one that told her this girl had potential that just need to be refined.

She followed her into the manor. Sure the security system was a pain but she need more information on this girl. When Damian shoved the girl into the wall Talia became certain of two things. One Damian was upholding his training and two this girl did have potential.

She didn't flinch at the knife to her throat. Talia doubted it even registered as a small amount of blood came out. When the butler interfered, Talia almost missed it. The wound sealed shut and the blood evaporated to leave no trace of a wound. Yes, this girl had potential.

"(Name) Wayne. Hmm, I've always wanted a daughter."

Next

[dollwhite]

.Face of another.

Aunt reader <3333 not really a chapter 🤷🏽‍♀️ this is just a like outline of how I went things to goooo

It was a regular night, but you guess not. All the bats and birds were focused on a new interesting case, to interesting to pay attention to the shadowy figure only six feet away.

You were expecting better from the infamous Bats and birds. You had heard a lot, especially about Batman.

Oh

Oh how big he’s grown, oh he’s almost pasted you height.

“Oh Damian, how’ve big you’ve gotten.” You couldn’t help but to whisper. It was like just yesterday he was asking you to read him a bedtime story. 

“Did anyone hear that?” A boy around 17, with black and blue eyes said. If you hadn’t done some research you would have thought he was Bruce’s biological son.

You had supposed they would have noticed you sooner or later. You aren’t trying that hard to keep your presence unknown.

“Who’s there.” A deep voice said, has your gaze turned to the one who muttered those words.

Jason

You had not been that close to the boy when he ‘joined’ the league. You held respect for him though, his relationship with Damian was good.

“ apologies, for interrupting. Sell I come by another time? You all seem busy.” You said, taking your time stepping out of the shadows.

“Talia, what are you doing here” Bruce asked stepping in front of Damian.

“Bruce.. Don’t call me my sisters name.”

Safe to say the bats were shocked, sister they never heard of Talia having a sister. Of Ra’s having another daughter!? Who would want to have two kids with him?

And you and Talia looking almost identical? Oh boy that was even weirder and you both sounded alike, who’s to say you weren’t Talia with a parm! 

They didn’t trust you, and you could tell by the way they all held their weapons up.

“I’m not here to harm any of you, I’m simply visiting my nephews.”

“How do we know you’re not Talia? What if you’re just trying to take Damian away!” This time dick answered, he was holding up his little electrified glow sticks.

A chuckle

You let out a loud chuckle. Because if you really wanted to take Damian back you would have already done it.

“I am Talia twin sister, [reader Al ghul] the heart demon.” 

“Father, we need to have a conversation” Talia said, walking into her father’s personals office.

“Talia what is it? I’m busy”

“It’s about [reader], she’s back.. back for Damian”

Guys I know it’s little but like 😔I was running out of ideas, if you are confused, just ask about it!!

Taglist; @lazyemmy @ninihrtss @tsuniio

[sillysquishgirl]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Catra (She-Ra)/Reader Characters: Catra (She-Ra), Reader Additional Tags: Kidnapping, Collars, Master/Pet, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, Loneliness, Reader-Insert, Female Protagonist, Violence, Isolation, Torture, Self-Insert, Lesbian Catra (She-Ra), No Smut Summary:

Catra makes you her pet after you try breaking up

Yeah

[bluetooththereptile]

Crimson bride

(Yandere Damian Wayne x twin sister reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Summary: Your life is going to end horribly, your will to live is slipping away, will your only hope come to save you?

Tw: mentions of violence and abuse

The smell of blood and incense had filled the air, your lungs could hardly bear the responsibility of bringing you oxygen under the pressure of your stress, not that they could easily filter the smoke in the air anyway. It felt like the air was on fire, with each breath your body shuddered slightly, your body could hardly bear the burden of keeping you alert. The beads of sweat slithered down your spine, making the already uncomfortable rags even more unbearable. You were just 11, why were you stuck in a room full of adults in dark long robes...you were not sure...or perhaps you knew what was going to happen, but you didn't know why on earth you were there. You eyed the sacred blade in the hand of the leader of the group, the light of the candles shimmering on its uneven blade, and swallowed your saliva down your throat that now had turned extremely dry. You could already feel the pain in your chest. Dear God, if you hear me...please help!

The dark monks' chants echoed in the chambers, and the puddles of red wax candles under the feet of pillars carved with different images of unholy creatures, seemed like oozing puddles of blood to you, already boiling with crimson liquid of life right out of hell, where they hailed their master from. The veil on your head was thin enough for you to recognize people's faces, well, at least the ones who didn't have a mask on, and your terrified eyes spotted the figure of your grandfather standing behind the leader, himself holding a golden bowl at hand. You gritted your teeth at remembering his words. The memory is still fresh for you, it was just two months ago when he was having a drink with the leader himself in his boudoir, with you present by his side.

"She's a fitting lady Ra's...I give you the credit of having good hereditary genes..." the leader spoke in his smooth voice, his eyes scanning you up and down. You knew how the way he looked at you was inappropriate but you still stayed, holding the tray of drinks, standing by your grandfather's side, if you were going to flinch even for an inch, your mother wouldn't be happy. "She is..." your grandfather hummed, rubbing his chin before he chuckled "What is it old friend? You seem too interested in my child..." the words spoken made your shoulders stiffen slightly, your fingers tightening around the edges of the tray. "I am...but not for what you think...she is too young for marriage for a mortal man..." his smirk grew wider as he continued "But she's at the ripe age for being gifted to our dear lord...she'd make a decent bride..." you could see Ra's hold on his glass of drink tighten, what did his friend mean? Did he want to marry you off to someone? You wondered, but your confusion soon turned into horror as the leader continued "Her heart fits the unholy bowl perfectly" Oh no...you had heard from your nanny that this man was bearer of bad news but this...this was unpredictable! Your head turned to your grandfather to see how he'd respond...please say no, please say no, I've been a good granddaughter...please say no! "What price do you offer?" And with that, your whole world shattered, you felt like life was slipping away from your shell of being as he negotiated the price of marriage, did he...did he just agree on making you a sacrificial lamb?!

You snapped out of your thoughts by feeling the extremely warm hold of the leader on your naked arm as he pulled you away from the corner of the damp room, the metallic chains on your weak ankles clinking loudly as you dragged them on the floor, your feet already bruised by the rough edges of the old tiles on the floor, leaving red trails of blood. He walked you to the alter, your heart skipped as you saw the white dressing of the stone bed, flower petals spread on the surface, how hauntingly fitting for a bridal bed... The man stopped you right before the altar and started chanting in a language you didn't know a word of. But whatever it was, it was working...because the tiles under your feet started to turn unbearably hot, the circles and symbols drawn onto the walls and the floor turned bright red, oh dear God...if you hear me...please help! You had lost your hope a long time ago, but still, you wanted to hold onto a sliver of hope, maybe your grandfather would change his decision at the last minute, or perhaps he would come...but no...how could Damian come to the other side of the world that quickly? He was just a child, like you, sure, he was a capable boy but still, he was just a boy. His words circled in your mind as the priest poured a warm liquid on your body that painted it red, its sweet aroma filling the air, unbeknownst to you, it was a poison that through skin pores penetrated the body and ran into your blood, slowly relaxing your muscles until your heart would stop, this way, if the demons preferred to have your body whole, you'd still be dead. As you felt your skin itch and your vision turn slowly blurry, Damian's voice echoed in your mind "I will come...I promise...I promise!" His voice was filled with determination, but you knew he'd be late. It was already too late...

They helped you lay down on the alter, the wet veil sticking to your face, slowly suffocating you, but you were too weak to move on your own, your eyes were closed, as if the liquid had sealed your eyelashes together, and the voices around you were turning into distant murmurs, your hands limp as they crossed it on your chest. It was too late...and he hadn't held up to his promise...your lips formed a pout, unable to cry, hardly latching onto the task of breathing, your breaths became labored. Soon your chest would be cut open and your warm paralyzed heart would be put into that golden bowl, and then thrown into a fire...you had hoped things would be different, but you knew from the very start, that you were unwanted, and one day, your family would give you up if they have the chance to do so.

Your ears couldn't detect the loud sound of the explosion of the tear gas in the room, how the cult members shouted and pulled out their weapons but were disarmed quickly by the man in black and a few younger ones. You didn't notice them until someone yanked the wet veil from your face and wiped the clotted liquid off of your nose and mouth, putting an oxygen mask on your face "Y/N!" The voice seemed familiar, but you were too weak to respond "Y/N!" He cried for your attention, his trembling hands shaking your shoulders, his voice muffled by his mask, his hold was pushed away from you when you felt a sharp pain on your neck, the detoxing liquid surged in your veins forward by copious amounts, yet you were already unconscious to see your father cry silently as he held your body close to his chest. Poor girl...poor poor girl...he wished he was there sooner.

Your nanny had pulled the small phone behind her apron with trembling hands, she knew your actions had consequences, but she wanted you to feel happy, so she'd do anything in her power to ensure it'd happen. You quickly snatched the phone out of her calloused hands and started to take the number you had repeated over and over in your mind since the moment you had snuck into your mother's study and had found it deep in her files, it was the Wayne Manor's, where your Damian lived with your father. You were separated since birth, him getting most of the attention of your mother, well the one who was to be her weapon, you were too weak to fight from the very first moments you had started to walk, but still, you tried to have a connection with your twin, who even if neglected your attention or bullied you, still felt a twinge of sibling love deep down. It was not until when he was sent to live by his father that Damian had found out how much he dearly loved you, and how much you meant to him. You dialed the number, hearing it slowly beep, one...two...three...you could hear your nervous breaths into the phone, and four "Hello?" You stiffened at hearing Damian's voice, moving your lips to speak but you couldn't, the sheer luck of having him pick up the phone himself was too much! "Hello?!" Damian's voice turned sour with annoyance, you knew he'd hung up quickly so you finally spoke "Hi..."

"Y/N?!" Damian's voice had turned from annoyed into one of surprise and concern, you spoke softly, asking how he had been doing, smiling as he quickly stammered to answer you, but then, when he was rambling on about missing you, you smiled sadly "Hey...I wanted to tell you something..." you interrupted him "Hmm? What is it?" He had asked with curiosity "Please, forgive me if I've done you anything wrong...okay?" "W-wait...Y/N..what do you? What is happening?!" "Grandpa wants to marry me off...to death..." and there was silence, a very uncomfortable silence. "I will come..." his voice was now filled with determination "I will come, I promise!...w-when's is the ceremony?" "Within two weeks-" the phone had slipped off of your hand when your mother's stinging slap met your face, you turned to look at her with wide eyes, trembling as you heard her crush the phone under her feet.

Your eyes opened up to a white light, with warmth surrounding your body. Were you in heaven? You naively asked yourself, but when the pain washed over your body, you knew you were still alive. "Hi..." Damian's voice made you turn your head to his direction at your side, your neck strained from being motionless for too long. He was holding your hand tightly, and your blurry vision could find the outlines of his face in what you could recognize as crying. "Welcome back..." his voice trembled as he sniffled, adjusting the oxygen mask on your face. You blind a few times to make your vision better, still, it felt a little blurry, but you could at least recognize you were somewhere dark, which you'd find out was the Batcave in the future, and Damian was sitting on your side. Your lips curled upwards slightly at how he held your hand to his chest, looking at you affectionately "Sorry I was late..." he spoke softly "But I will make things right from now on, I promise" he promised, and he would do anything in his power to ensure that.

[sheraandtheprincessofpower]

Hey! :) Can you do a Yandere glimmadora HC‘s on what Adora and glimmer would do if there darling ever ran away, and what they would do for punishments? Thank you :3!

Of course, I hope this is good :)

Adora would freak out if you escaped

Glimmer would be angry, knowing the truth that you had escaped

Adora would think Catra kidnapped you

When they find you, Adora coddles you

"Oh I was so worried! Are you okay?" She'll hold you close, afraid to lose you again

Glimmer will roll her eyes and lock you up in her room

She'll lock everything up and keep guards outside your door. But if there's something Glimmer loves about you, it's your resilience

If you want something, you will do anything to get it

Though, Adora makes it hard for you, because she's smothering you, worried that you might get kidnapped again, because she still thinks you were kidnapped, because there is no world where she thinks you'd leave

They would never hit you, but Glimmer gets close, because of her anger issues

When she gets a hold of her magic, she does use that against you

She does get a little sadistic when Shadow weaver turns her around for a while

But Adora always protects you

She could never think of hurting you or causing you any harm

Adora and Glimmer are totally opposites of each other when it comes to you. Though they both love you more than anything

So much it's terrifying

But it's okay, no one would dare hurt you, knowing you have a Princess/Queen and THE She-ra protecting you

And you'll never be able to leave her, because where are you going to go? There's nowhere you can go that you'll be safe or without someone telling the resistance

Hope Catra doesn't find about you

Her jealousy might get you in some big trouble, though it'd be even worse if she gains a crush on you too