hii ive been lurking / reading on ur page for a while now hehe nd i just wanna say i love ur stories nd drabbles (not sure if that's the right word 🥹🥹) so much. i swear finding ur account was like finding a goldmine 😭🙏
this is highk my first time asking, I'm so sorry if this has been asked before, but could you write about how platonicyan!batfam or superfam would react to a reader/mc who maladaptive daydreams? (basically like pacing around a lot, seemingly talking/muttering to themselves or thr air, spacing out, randomly talking outloud, etc. and just generally gets too consumed by their daydreams that they kinda forget ab the real world) like especially since after being 'forcefully adopted' i doubt they'd be able to go out that much, if at all, so it just kind of turns into a coping mechanism (or at least, being stuck at home all the time is how it manifested for me personally).
sorry if my ask seems too messy or unreadable, and if you can't write about it then it's totally fine !! thank you sm for ur time nd ur wonderful stories forrealsies 🥹❤️🩹❤️🩹
You saying that finding my acc was a goldmine genuinely made my day 🥹, thank youu and I hope you enjoy this one! 🫶 I wrote for both batfam and superfam if that's okay!
Platonic! Yandere! Superfam and Batfam X Daydreaming! Reader
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, settings, or franchises mentioned in this fanfiction. All rights belong to their respective creators and copyright holders. This story is written purely for entertainment and non-profit purposes.
"Uhhh... is this normal?" Jon's voice broke the silence in the room. Bruce, Clark, Damian, and Tim where all standing beside him, hovering over the monitor. The room was dark, only light coming from the screen; aluminating their faces. Faces full of confusion.
The monitor was recording a live feed to a room that was cozy, but not in the sense that it has been lived in. The room looks like it's missing the warmth of a person living in it, something they can't quite place. Maybe it's the overly-clean desk, or the empty nightstand, or the fact that the walls had no windows. But this room doesn't require that sort of warmth. It was only a temporary room.
Bruce scrunched his face at the screen, watching you move around the room, not in a restless manner, more so dreamy. "Do you think that we have caused cognitive issues to their brain? I have never seen anyone pace-" said Tim, now looking at the second screen. "-exactly 472 times around the same place. I've only seen that in Arkam Asylum."
"No, the tests already showed positive results," said Bruce, leaning in to view the monitor at a better position. "This is different." He heard a sigh go next to him, coming from Clark. "I believe that all they need is a little company. Maybe if we let them out for a bit? Talk with their siblings?"
"They don't think of us as 'siblings' yet. Although I would suggest giving them any human connection would be good for their mental health." Said Damian, folding his arms. "They've been inside for over three month's. I believe that is enough."
The door on their right opens, making them all turn their heads. Standing in front of that door is Duke, holding a tray with plates of food on top. Clark looks at the time on the monitor. One o'clock. It's lunchtime.
"I brought lunch, alfred made them a roasted chicken sandwich, fresh fruits cut into slices, and earl grey tea. Comforting enough to reduce their restlessness." Said Duke, walking towards the group hovering over the screen.
"They are not restless, Duke." Said Bruce, grabbing the tray from his arm. "We don't know what is happening, but I will investigate. I will bring them lunch and sit them down to talk." He started walking towards the heavily bolted door, leading to you. Anyone who would see the situation would think that there is a dangerous creature behind the door. But it's just you. A regular civilian who was kidnapped while sleeping from their home by a bunch of vigilantes.
Bruce gestured for Clark to open the door for him; since he was holding the tray of food. The moment the door opens, Bruce was hit with cold air, and the smell of disinfectant. They made sure that your room stayed clean to protect your physical health.
You stopped pacing, looking at the door to who is standing behind it. Of course, it was Bruce. Compared to all of them, he is the one that mostly enters your 'room'. He always insists on quality time before bringing you upstairs to where the rest of them are. He insists that by doing so, you will get accustomed to the place easier.
"Time for lunch," Bruce said, now Clark closing the door behind him. They used to leave the door open, but after your attemp at bolting towards the door, they decided it was best to keep the door closed as often as possible.
Bruce put the tray on top of the nightstand beside your bed and then sat down on the bed, patting the place beside him to gesture for you to sit down. You looked at him, hesitated. Then you remembered what happens when you don't listen to their orders. You don't want to live another day without light...
Slowly and cautiously, you took steps towards where Bruce was sitting in the bed. You sat where he gestured for you to sit on. "How was your day so far?" Bruce asked, with softness that he doesn't provide with anyone but you.
"It was fine," You lied. You didn't intend to tell the truth since telling it meant risking getting a stern lecture from him about how you should always be grateful of what your 'family' provides. In truth, this place was awful. There was barely any form of entertainment. The only thing that could take your mind off of your current situation is daydreaming.
"Good. I wanted to discuss something with you." He said, putting his arm around around your shoulder. "We noticed that you have caught a irregular habit." Upon hearing this, your heart sank. You knew immediately what he meant. You started looking around, looking for any signs of cameras. You couldn't find any.
"We are worried that the pacing you've been doing is going to harm you in some way or another. Can you tell me what caused it?" He said, tilting his head to the side in a gesture to appear sympathetic. You guessed he started adopting these habits because his face lacks any expression.
You looked at him more closely, and then sighed. "I'm bored." You said, slumping your shoulders. Bruce leaned back, surprised. To you, you didn't know why he was surprised. You thought it was obvious. Doesn't he have kids?? "What about the books Jason brought you? You still haven't read a many of them."
"I'm sick of reading!! All I've been doing is read, it gets old quickly." He looked to the side, thinking. Then turned his head back to you. "Do you want something else?" You nodded the second the word 'else' came out of his mouth. "Do you have anything in mind? And no, a phone is not an option."
That was exactly what you wanted. You should have known that's what he was going to say. "A TV?" You said, after thinking for a moment. "That's manageable. I will tell the others of your needs." He said, leaning down and kissing your forehead, then getting up and pointing at the tray with food.
"Don't forget to eat your lunch, you need your energy after pacing for that long," he said, already at the door, leaving the room. You nodded, already excited to eat the food, as it was the only good thing that ever happens throughout the day in this shithole.
True to his words, the next day, Jason and Duke came in carrying your new TV. When you opened it, you immediately realized that all the TV shows and movies are PG-13. You thought it was strange, but at least you have something else other than reading The Great Gatsby.
You knew that this was their attempt at reducing your 'restlessness', but all you were thinking about is how you can use daydreaming against them to manipulate them into getting you the things that you want. Maybe being kidnapped isn't that bad after all.
Author's Note: man that writing block hit me like a train.