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[avyenol]

Hi!! would it be ok to ask for allen the alien / gender neutral or masc reader :3 maybe a comfort scenario or something sweet! i havent seen much for him which is so 💔 since he's my fave! thank u i hope ure having a good day ^_^

OMG YES!! i love allen sm

ｉｎ ｔｈｅ ｓｔａｒｓ

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨(𝘴). 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺. 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴?

𝘤/𝘸. 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 :), 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝘢/𝘯. 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘭, 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 <3

the ship lands softly on a quiet, cratered moon far away from earth. the surface sparkles faintly under the light of a nearby nebula, casting beautiful hues of violet and gold across the terrain. even illuminating the two of you in its beautiful colors. allen steps out first, almost twitching with excitement.

"this place has the best view in the quadrant," he says, holding out a hand to help you down.

he lays out a thick blanket- woven from some type of foreign fiber that's warm despite the coldness of space- and you both settle in, backs against a smooth rock. above, the stars stretch endlessly, very different from what they looked like on earth- damn light pollution.

allen points to the cluster of stars shaped like a spiral. "that one is called the guardian's path," he explains. "on my planet, it's said to guide those who feel lost."

you turn to him, a playful smirk playing on your face. "is that how you felt when you came to earth instead of-"

"that was one time!" he laughs. "and i wasn't lost- not with you anyways."

you glance at him, heart swelling. "do you ever feel lost? like truly?" only asking again to really hear what he just said.

he looks at you, serious now. "no, not with you."

you lean into his side, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. his skin is cool, but his presence is grounding- more than the gravity on this moon ever could be.

he starts telling you stories from his homeworld- legends of brave explorers, different kind of deep space creatures, and oddly shaped constellations. you laugh, and he offers you an adoring grin, clearly proud of his storytelling skills.

eventually, you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching a slow-moving comet streak across the sky. allen leans his head against yours, a small gesture of affection that goes a long way.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

TW: mentions of child abuse

Apologies if you have already done this, but can you do a TADC HC post with a child reader who had an awful home life where they were beaten by their parents and how they would get along with the rest of the cast? I dunno, just wanna see some found family fluff. It also kind of matches my OC, Splotch. (Unrelated but I also kind of see Ragatha being like an older sister towards them)

This has way too much potential for me to not write. A friend of mine works in a daycare, so she gave me a few pointers about spotting abuse in children.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

A product of a broken home

★ Nobody likes talking about it. It's kind of an open secret. You're a really great kid, but it seems like the people who raised you were awful. It takes a lot to make Caine seem like a good parent! That's how bad they were.

★ It took you a long time to open up. The home you have now is so much better than the family you came from. Funny how you were immediately accepted with open arms. Despite maybe having a few screws loose. Though by no fault of your own.

★ Wires got crossed when you were really young. If you could grow up, you'd probably develop several mental health issues (among other things.) Likely due to having no supervision or support untill now. Kinger, Ragatha, and Pomni. Those three are your new parents.

★ This simple fact makes you very hard to control. Especially in a world where there aren’t really consequences for actions that would restrain a normal person.

★ Running is what you do best. It's always been safer than staying around. Sort of an instinct, born from not feeling save when someone was mad at you. When someone scolds you, you shut down completely.

★ No words. No eye contact. Only staring at the floor with a blank expression that mirrors the way Jax dissociates. Ragatha hates it, it makes her feel like she's turning into her mother.

★ For once Jax knew better than to fuck with you. Probably because, should he cross that line, Pomni might never forgive him. -If she hasn't already. That means no "jokes" you might take the wrong way.

★ When Caine gave everybody guns? You were given a free pass too just skip this one and go play in your room. No vote needed, because everybody agreed it would be best to leave you out. Unfortunately, the ringmaster didn't get the memo.

★ Now the whole circus knows you know how to handle a firearm. A smaller pistol, similar to the one Jax's had. You knew how to fire it without being shown how.

★ That was really upsetting for Ragatha to see. She should have seen it coming, but still. What kind of environment were you living in???

★ Kinger is the best person for you to run to. Knowing exactly what to say. Or even just sitting with you quietly. Not quite figuring out what's wrong. Just sensing you need comfort.

★ There are a few behaviors that struck the cast as odd. Being overly apologetic was one of them. Also flinching when Caine spoke too loudly. Specifically when he was close to you. Strangely enough, you don't flinch when things swing near your face.

★ Instead of a dad throwing glass bottles at your head, there's Kinger handing you glasses of chocolate milk. It's a much better environment. Caine and Kinger basically have split custody of you. Complete with a calendar, to keep things consistent.

★ Sometimes you skip meals for no particular reason. Maybe it's because you're not used to having full meals all the time. Or just having food available at all.

★ Zooble gets on your case for not eating. Doesn't matter that you technically don't need to eat. "Hey, Goober. Go eat before I throw a pie at you." They say while pointing a thumb towards the dinner table.

★ Overall, things are going well for you. Because your here and not there. No matter how terrible the others think it is. You like it much more than the life you had before. Somehow, you seem almost... grateful to stay in the circus?

★ Given the choice, you'd want to stay here. Were things don't really make sense. But at least you'll be taken care of, adored, and shown what life should be like.

[gothamgraveyard]

Summary: Justice League having to work with the demon! reader that they accidently summoned. It's proving to be very hard, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

TW: Rape very very briefly mentioned. Reader kills one. So beware?. I wouldn't say this is nsfw, but reader does make sex jokes. Reader is just very immature in general.

To you, the Justice League’s official handbook is nothing more than toilet paper.

you don't do "stealth," and you certainly don't do "holding back." Your entire combat strategy is a mess which drives the heavy hitters up the wall because it actually works.

The biggest point of contention is, obviously, the "no kill" rule. You understand the concept of morality about as well as Batman understands a joke. To you, taking out the trash is just more efficient

Because why would anyone want to keep a rapist alive???

Batman's tried to explain the whole "it'll lead you down the dark path" thing but you're straight from hell. So it doesn't really get any darker than that. Also, that ship is far sailed.

The Watchtower’s comms are frequently treated to the exact same argument every single week.

Batman will be brooding at the monitor "Reader. I explicitly said you cannot kill the cartel leaders. We needed them for interrogation."

You will literally pout, crossing your arms "But Bruce! They hurt kids! I did the world a favor. You should be thanking me, you're WELCOME, Reader" you mock

The League eventually had to create a literal "Days Since Reader Committed Mid-Tier Homicide" whiteboard in the cafeteria.

It rarely makes it past three.

Superman usually just sighs, rubs his temples, and says, "At least they're filtering for the genuinely horrific ones…" while Batman ages a good decade from sheer stress.

Being a demon means you possess an almost unfair supernatural level of physical attractiveness that breaks human brains too

You know it, you abuse it, and you use it as a shortcut for everything.

Why spend three hours hacking a mainframe or staging a complex stakeout when you can just look at a security guard, and have them handing over their keycards

and credit cards, which the league doesn't need to know about. You've got a very expensive shopping habit to pay for. It's your human hobby.

The Flash will be running around trying to evacuate a collapsing building, and he’ll look over to see you leaning against a piece of rubble, casually twirling your hair, and giving a terrified but intensely aroused mother your number.

"Hey babe, if we survive the alien invasion, you should show me around Gotham. I hear the villains suck, but I suck harder"

Your loudest and most frequent complaint while lounging around the Watchtower is the utter lack of "spiciness" in the universe

You will literally crash a high-level briefing about Darkseid just to groan loudly into the table

"Ugh, Bruce, this planet is dry. Where are the sluts? Why is everyone so repressed? I went to Central City yesterday and the most exciting thing I saw was an ankle. I'm starving. I need a real, degenerate night out or I'm going to start biting people."

Your approach to conflict resolution makes Batman want to launch himself into the sun

BATMAN: " Joker has secured three bombs across the tri-state area. We need a three-pronged approach to dismantle the triggers simultaneously…"

READER, swiveling in chair: "Or… I could just make him fall in love with me, Bruce. We don't need to do all of that."

BATMAN: "He is a homicidal psychopath."

READER: "Sounds like a great lay"

You have tried this on multiple villains.

You once casually mentioned that Poison Ivy "could get it if she stopped trying to kill everyone for a few hours," which led to an incredibly awkward silence where Green Arrow had to physically restrain a disgusted but slightly flattered Ivy.

You also treat comms like something to talk about your day to

Half the time, Martian Manhunter has to mute your feed because you're broadcasting graphic descriptions of what you want to do to various famous people (Black Canary, Richard Grayson, Oliver Queen, the list goes on)

"I want to *@#%^&*@#&^%@!%6 on that table &^*#@^% night along, %$^&*@#$ she's so hot, the way I'd %$^*$%^"

Diana is absolutely horrified.

Batman finds a way to string your ass from the ceiling for telling him you'd bang his oldest son.

You're strung up again once you let him know that you'd also do the second.

You're either talking pure thirst on comms, or you're narrating your experience with human foods

"Guys, I ate something called a 'Chipotle burrito' and I think my stomach plans to explode. Clark, if I die, tell that cute barista on 5th street I loved her. And the guy who deals drugs in Crime Alley. He gave me some free coke. Oh! And the pretty girl at the mall. Please. And the fling from the bar. And the--"

"Reader, how many people are you dating at the same time ??"

You refuse to wear a standard uniform. "Spandex makes my ass look flat and it suffocates my energy," you claim

Which is not an issue for Nightwing, but you're not him unfortunately.

Instead, you fight crime in outfits that look like they were stolen from a high-end lingerie boutique or a heavy metal video shoot.

Diana spends half her time trying to adjust your top so you don't give the evening news a completely different kind of show during a live press conference

Despite the fact that you are a walking HR violation and PR disaste you are completely indispensable

When the chips are down, your demonic magic bypasses standard physics

You can rip open portals through hell dimensions to bypass alien shield

Your raw strength rivals Wonder Woman's when you're angry, and you have a weirdly fierce loyalty to the League.

You might call Batman a "repressed old virgin" to his face every morning, but the second someone tries to take a swing at him from behind, you will literally tear their soul out through their throat before they can blink.

You're a degenerate, but you're their degenerate.

[ax-the-artist]

Batfam with Jax! Reader. They were already so asshole and rude after the family decided to stop paying attention to them, they just get worse when they get trapped in the circus

But maybe after getting out and getting some free group therapy from Kinger, they're very unwilling to reveal their true identity not wanting the others to think they were an asshole for the sake of being a richie. They miss Alfred sure, but that's the only person they miss, and they don't wanna go back to their previous identity, hell that was the whole reason they put that godforsaken headset on!

So with some help of Zooble and Pomni, they fashion themselves a new identity and documents, hell they might act like a egoistic person but they do have Bruce's smarts and a hint of his paranoia, and now they happily room with Pomni

But of fucking course you can't have a normal fucking life being a Wayne, because fucking RIDDLER DECIDED TO BURST DOWN THEIR APARTMENT WALL IN CANADA. HOW DID HE TRACK THEM ALL THE WAY HERE AND WHY NOW???!?!?!!!!?

[heartfullofleeches]

[Yan Scientist approaches Slime Reader's cage]

"Doctor! Keep your distance! That creature's slime dissolves clothing as if it were tissue paper."

[Slime darling looks around their cage before pointing at themselves]

Slime Reader: ???

[They make eye contact with the scientist - opening their arms wide for a hug despite the walls of thick glass between them]

Slime Reader: :D <3

Yan Scientist: Everyone out of the lab.

"Doctor-"

Yan Scientist, messing with the keypad wired to the slime's cage: Emergency testing - everyone out of this room right fucking now.

[cheschesterpossum]

The scientists might have fuck up Robot!y/n's face but that ain't stopping Megatron

[writingblus]

i dont "go on walks," i dont "use character sheets" and i dont "plot before writing," i raw dog it, and if it doesnt flow, I FUCKING CRY.

[motzglorp]

The birds liked you.

Of course they did, you always had some seeds, dried berries or nuts in your bag and shared them, when you are your lunch on the bench behind your office building. You didn't think much of it, it was just a thing you did and you liked to watch the birds pick their favourites.

Your coworkers thought it was cute and always asked for pictures, even occasionally bringing you some nut mix for the birds. When they asked you how you knew all the birds favourites, you just smiled.

"Well, I asked them of course."

It was a cute quirk that you sometimes seemed like a Disney princess despite your work. But maybe that was exactly the point, something that kept you balanced while you worked through intel about some of the most gruel crimes on humanity.

And you were good at it. So good that sometimes the S.A.S. ordered you specifically to analyse mission relevant data and deliver it personally to the TF 141. That's how you ended up in that conference room with four highly trained military men who looked at you as if they were assessing a potential threat. Not sure what the verdict would be.

Usually you didn't think that much about your appearance, in your line of work it really didn't matter, but you wished you had worn something more flattering or at least professional today instead of the comfortable dress and cardigan that made you look like a chubby dark academia librarian. Which you were, when you thought about it. But being in the same room with four very attractive men still made something inside you wish you were more. Or that you were less.

"Thank you for coming out. As you are aware, everything we talk about here is confidential. That goes both ways. Whatever you tell us, as long as it doesn't compromise our mission, will stay between us. Understood?"

"Of course, Captain Price. But I don't understand what else I can contribute here? You have all the data." You were confused. This didn't sound like the usual presentation. It was almost like an opening to an interrogation. You had seen and listened to a lot of them, the pattern was always the same. First building trust. And if that didn't work: force.

"That's exactly the point. You gave us all the data. But Lieutenant Riley here is obsessed with details sometimes and he noticed that there are a few points that seem to be... Too good? More precise than it should have been possible. Not wrong, never wrong, but just a bit too good. Like this conversation, as if someone was in the same room. No word missing. Can you explain that?"

Price was looking at you with a friendly smile. You were cute, looked harmless enough, definitely not a fighter. And your work was good, made it so much easier. To a point where it almost became a good luck charm when he saw your name on a report.

But he also noticed your eyes widen a bit when he mentioned the details and he knew you were hiding.

"Sir... I... Would you believe me, a little bird told me?"

~•°•~•°•~•°•~•°•~

I don't know if this is anything, I just had a wild thought and ran with it. Let me know in the comments what you think?

[gothamgraveyard]

Nightwing x reader

Summary: you accidently called Nightwing a "good boy". In your defense, you're used to working with dogs..not people!

“C’mon,” you sigh, crouched halfway under the Batmobile while Dick attempts to hand you a wrench that is very obviously the wrong size. “Not that one. The— yeah, there you go. Good boy.”

Silence.

You slide out from beneath the car slowly, confused as to why Dick stopped talking.

Nightwing is frozen.

One knee bent where he’d been crouching, blue eyes blown wide behind the domino mask, wrench still dangling from his fingers like his brain has temporarily disconnected from his motor functions.

Bruce asks, “What exploded?” knowing that the only time his kids were quiet was if someone fucked up.

Dick clears his throat.

Then immediately chokes on absolutely nothing.

“You okay there?” you ask carefully.

“Fantastic,” he says instantly, voice cracking straight through the middle of the word.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Jason, seated nearby cleaning one of his guns, looks up with the slow delight of a man witnessing the beginning of a natural disaster.

“…Did she just call you a good boy?”

Dick points at him violently. “Don’t.”

“OH my God,” Jason breathes, eyes shining. “OH, this is bad.”

“It was a joke,” you say quickly.

Dick nods too fast. “Totally. Obviously. Completely normal joke. Happens all the time.”

“Right,” you agree.

“Totally unaffected.”

“Clearly.”

Dick stands up so abruptly he slams his head directly into the underside of the Batmobile. CLANG.

There’s a beat.

“…Fantastic recovery,” Jason starts.

Dick, still folded in half from the impact, gives a weak thumbs up.

The problem should’ve ended there, and it would've given any normal circumstance. But you work with vigilantes, so your normal is pretty different from most people's.

Nightwing proceeds to lose every remaining shred of composure over the next three weeks.

Not in obvious ways, but Dick Grayson’s problem is that he’s trying very hard to act normal. Which makes him one thousand times worse.

Because suddenly he’s everywhere.

You mention being hungry once? Dick appears holding your favorite takeout sheepishly. You casually say your phone’s about to die? Charger lands in your lap before you finish the sentence. You offhandedly mention liking a sweater in a store window? Three days later it mysteriously appears folded on your bed in Titans Tower with no note except a sticky tab reading:

'saw this :) '

Which would already be suspicious enough. Except every single act of service is followed by this unbearable look on his face. It's that wide-eyed look of hope.

Like he’s waiting for something.

You don’t understand it until the fourth week.

It’s movie night at the Tower. Everyone’s there.

Garfield is upside down on the couch, and Kory is attempting to explain why alien horror films are scientifically inaccurate and this is not how her people act. Tim is asleep sitting upright somehow. Jason’s eating cereal directly from the box with a serving spoon.

Dick walks in carrying snacks for everyone.

“You remembered the chocolate-covered pretzels?” you ask.

Dick brightens instantly. “Yeah.”

You grin. “Aw. Good boy.”

Dick stops moving entirely.

The bowl of popcorn slips from his hands.

Jason drops dead onto the floor laughing before the popcorn even hits the ground.

“Oh my GOD,” he wheezes. “HE LIKES IT.”

“I do not—”

“You practically wagged your tail!”

“I DID NOT WAG ANYTHING.”

Kory tilts her head thoughtfully. “Actually, your posture did become notably more eager.”

Dick looks like he wants the earth to open beneath him.

Garfield is crying laughing into a throw pillow.

Tim wakes up just long enough to mumble, “Knew it,” before immediately falling back asleep.

And you stare at Dick, who is now aggressively avoiding eye contact while turning the color of a fire hydrant. He is suddenly very interested in cleaning up popcorn one kernel at a time, as he mutters, “It’s not my fault,” under his breath like a man on trial.

Oh.

Oh, this is hilarious.

“You know,” you say slowly, “this explains a lot.”

Dick points a popcorn kernel at you accusingly. “You explain a lot.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It made sense in my head.”

Jason is still dying on the carpet. “He’s so pathetic. This is the best day of my life.”

“Jason,” Dick snaps.

“No, no, keep going,” Jason says delightedly. “Maybe he’ll do a trick. Wanna fetch, good boy?”

Dick throws popcorn at his head.

Jason throws it back.

Garfield joins in.

Within thirty seconds, a full-scale food fight erupts across Titans Tower.

Kory starts launching popcorn, and Tim wakes up again solely to throw an M&M directly at Jason’s forehead before passing out for a second time. Someone knocks over an entire soda.

In the middle of the chaos, Dick grabs your wrist and pulls you backward out of the war zone.

“Come on,” he says, laughing despite himself.

You stumble after him into the hallway, both of you breathless.

The noise from the living room muffles behind the closing door, and suddenly it’s quieter.

Dick’s still holding your wrist ridiculously tight.

You look up at him, amused. “You know they’re never letting you live this down.”

“I know,” he groans.

“You’re kind of making it worse.”

“I know.”

“You literally dropped the popcorn.”

“In my defense,” he says solemnly, “you treated me like a dog!”

You laugh. Dick looks at you for a second too long. Then a fond expression sneaks onto his face before he can stop it. And there it is again, that look of hope.

Like he’s waiting.

You raise an eyebrow.

Dick immediately looks away. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know what.”

You absolutely do.

Which is why you grin and lean slightly closer.

“Good boy.”

Dick Grayson actually, physically malfunctions.

His head drops against the wall with a quiet thud.

“Oh, you are NEVER surviving this,” you inform him cheerfully.

From the other room, Jason’s voice echoes

“DID HE SHORT-CIRCUIT AGAIN? CYBORG! ARE YOU SURE YOU'RE THE HUMANOID?”

A/n: men yearn to be lap dogs and I know it

[strawberry-gato-holding-you]

I need muscular butch reader in the batfam. I’m not talking those fuckass skinny bitches with faint muscles, I need bodybuilder reader who still finds time to be girly

This builttt!!!!!^^^

[otakusimp1]

ʙᴀᴛꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ x ꜱᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴘʀᴏʟᴏᴜɢᴇ, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 1, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 2, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 3, ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4

<Nov 6 at 5:46 PM>

You hummed softly as you brushed your hair in front of your vanity, setting the brush down once you were satisfied. For a long moment, you stared at your reflection, smoothing down the imaginary out of place hairs before skipping over to your wardrobe. A smile tugged at your lips, so wide your cheeks were beginning to ache. Caleb had called a few hours earlier to tell you he had planned a date for the two of you. Since then, you’d been tearing through your walk-in closet, trying on outfit after outfit. “Too simple… too flashy… trying too hard,” you muttered, sighing as you peeled off yet another dress and tossed it onto the growing pile of clothes littering the floor. In the middle of your fashion crisis, Alfred stepped into the room and took in the disaster. “Miss (Name), may I ask why your clothes are all over the floor?” You whipped around, clutching two dresses to your chest. “Alfred, which dress looks better?”

You turned around and held up two dresses for him to see. Alfred sighed softly before a small smile appeared on his face. You lifted the first one. “Miss, you look beautiful in everything.” “Alfred, not now—which one?” you whined before holding up the second dress instead. “Are you trying to impress someone?” “No…” You answered a little too quickly. He raised an eyebrow at you. “He’s just a friend,” you quickly deflected. After the last incident, Alfred had practically drilled you for the name of the person who left the “parting gift” on your neck, but eventually dropped it because of your stubborn and secretive nature like father like daughter. You didn’t want Alfred knowing you were going out with a boy. Honestly, you didn’t want anyone in your family to know. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed by Caleb. You just didn’t want people questioning your relationship, especially with how popular he was compared to you. “That (Outfit) looks beautiful,” Alfred finally said. You smiled brightly and turned toward the floor-length mirror, admiring your reflection. “I’m assuming you’ll be out late?” he asked. “Uh- yeah. I’ll be home before midnight.” “I believe you meant 9 PM sharp.” “No? I said—” “If there is nothing else, Miss, I will be in the kitchen.” You rolled your eyes lightheartedly as he calmly walked out of the room.

After changing into your outfit, you applied a layer of lipstick/lip gloss and grabbed your purse. Just as you reached the door, you paused and turned back toward your vanity, opening your jewelry box. Your eyes lingered on the pearl necklace inside as you debated whether to wear it. After a moment of thought, you sighed softly and clasped it around your neck. Carefully making your way down the stairs in your heels, you headed toward the front door, only to stop when you saw Jason walking in. He looked you up and down, a frown settling on his face. “Where’re you going?” You stared at him wide-eyed, caught off guard by the fact that he was even talking to you. “What?” “I’m asking where you’re going this late.” You sighed in annoyance and walked past him toward the door. “Does it matter?” you muttered bitterly. “(Name), Can you stop being a fucking brat for one second?!” Jason snapped, his glare hardening as he grabbed your wrist tightly. Your face scrunched up in pain. “Let go! What’s wrong with you?!”

He snapped out of his trance and immediately let go of you, guilt flashing across his face. His heart dropped into his stomach the moment he saw the venomous glare in your eyes. “I-I didn’t mean to…” Before he could finish explaining, you hurried out the front door. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Jason? Why are you just standing there?” Tim asked as he walked into the room. Jason rubbed a hand over his face. “Nothing… actually, do you know where Bruce is?”

Bruce stared at the large screen in front of him in the dreary Batcave, the harsh glow from the screen casting shadows across his tired face. His eyes stayed fixed on the photos from this week’s crime scenes as he sighed in exhaustion. The patterns frustrated him to no end, whoever was behind this had managed to slip away the limited amount of evidence didn’t help either, leaving almost nothing behind, and the inability to predict their next move was slowly driving him insane. Barbara wasn’t doing much better either. She hadn’t slept properly in days, endlessly clicking through files and footage while trying to piece together the breadcrumbs left behind. Suddenly, she paused, narrowing her eyes. “Hey, Bruce… you might want to see this.” She pulled up footage of you on the massive screen. Bruce’s expression twisted in confusion before hardening. “What are you trying to say, Barbara?” “Before you misunderstand,” she started carefully, “I’m saying maybe (Name) saw someone. From what we’ve gathered, three days ago the body was already—”

"Bruce!"

Jason stormed into the cave with Tim trailing behind him, confused and trying to calm him down. He slammed his fist onto the desk in front of Bruce. “I don’t have time for this, Jason,” Bruce said coldly without looking up. “Whatever the problem is, it can wait.” “I didn’t know (Name) was considered a problem now,” Jason shot back sarcastically. Bruce’s eyes snapped toward him sharply. “What now?” “Can’t you see what’s been happening? She’s been running around late at night with some boy!” he shouted. Tim stared at him like he had grown two heads. “Did you hit your head? There’s no way someone’s actually willing to be her boyfriend. She’s gloomy all the time, and the way she smiles is sometimes kind of creepy—” His laugh was abruptly cut off when Jason grabbed him by the collar of his hoodie. “Finish that sentence. I dare you.” Barbara quickly stepped in before things escalated further. “Look, Jason, (Name) is at the age where she’s going to start dating and meet other boys,” she said, “but I have to agree with Tim. There’s no way she’s secretly dating someone, or Damian would’ve mentioned it by now or one of us would’ve seen it by now.”

“I can confirm master Jason’s words, master Barbra.”

Alfred entered the cave with Damian beside him. “What’s going on here, Father?” Bruce sighed tiredly. “It’s nothing—” “Of course you’d say that,” Jason snapped. “You never gave two shits about (Name) before, did you?” Bruce’s expression darkened. “I am not having this conversation with you.” Jason let out a bitter laugh. “For all we know, that guy could be dangerous or using her.” Damian raised an eyebrow slightly. “Is this about the new transfer student?” “You know who Jason’s talking about?” Tim asked. Damian crossed his arms. “The new student has been suspiciously keeping an eye on (Name).” Bruce’s eyes narrowed instantly. “Define suspiciously.” Damian tilted his head slightly.

<9:07 PM>

"C-Caleb," you moaned against his mouth, your back against the brick wall. Caleb had left purple bruises on your shoulder and neck. His hand reached up and gently tilted your chin, bringing your face toward his. "God, you're so beautiful," he whispered calmly, gradually closing the distance between you two. His arm wrapped around your waist, while the other hiked up to his upper thigh. He pulled you closer to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue in. You tapped his shoulder, begging for some breathing room, which he reluctantly granted. He stared at your face, lipstick/lip gloss smudged across your delicate lips and a little on your cheeks, your hair disheveled, as were your clothes. You were almost terrified someone would identify you in such a scandalous predicament last thing you needed was to be on the headline of every new article and broadcast. Unfortunately Caleb couldn't care less whether anyone saw you; he could always get rid of them if it worried you so much, but right now his gaze was fixed solely on you. He thanked every being in the universe for sending the most ethereal women into his twisted, filthy hands.

You looked away shyly, but your gaze slowly drifted toward the back door of the restaurant, where the waitress had disappeared only moments ago. Your mood instantly soured as memories flashed through your mind of her shameless flirting with Caleb while acting like you didn’t even exist. The thought alone made your stomach twist. Part of you wanted to follow her outside into the alleyway, with the steak knife she had handed you earlier for your meal. You imagined stepping quietly behind her before driving the blade into her heart with her blood squirting out and covering your face and dress, imagining the horror on her face and the pain in her eyes before the light disappeared from them completely, sinking into darkness. But he’d stopped you before you could act on your impulse. Last thing he needed was for his date to be ruined by someone dying here, especially their server, you’d be the first to be questioned afterward, it was obvious you didn’t handle pressure well when your emotions took over. You tore your eyes away from the door. “Caleb, it’s getting late… Alfred will be mad if I’m any later,” you murmured, remembering Alfred’s strict curfew. “Now?” Caleb asked, giving you a pathetic puppy-eyed look. You glanced at him apologetically. With a soft sigh, he finally loosened his hold and gently set you down before carefully fixing your hair, his thumb brushing over your lips.

You huffed out a breath and wiped the ruined lipstick/lip gloss from your lips with the back of your hand before trying to fixing your hair. Your glare lingered on the empty space as you zoned out, thoughts spiraling in your head. Caleb watched you carefully from the corner of his eye. “Are you jealous?” he teased. You blinked twice. “Me? Jealous?”“You know, it’s okay if you are,” he teased softly, a small grin pulling at his lips. “Not that you have anything to worry about anyway. You’re the only person I look at like that.” Your frown deepened. “Im not jealous!” you snapped loudly. Caleb stepped back slightly, clearly caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “A-alright…” he tried to comfort you. Your chest heaved with every sharp breath, “Don’t patronize me! Not everything is about you!” The words spilled out from your mouth in one rushed breath. Caleb tried to calm you down, but you weren’t having it. “I’m going home first. Don’t you dare follow me.” He stood frozen in the alleyway, half shocked and half confused as he watched you storm off. Once you disappeared, he buried his face in his hand and let out a loud groan why did he even open his mouth.

You walked through the city on foot, not even bothering to call an Uber or wait for a bus. Caleb’s words kept replaying in your head, refusing to leave you alone. Are you jealous? Pfft. Was he out of his mind?! ofcourseyou’retotallynotjealous! You bit the inside of your cheek raw as you aimlessly wandered down the sidewalk, your handbag loosely hanging from your shoulder while your other hand carried your heels. Crowds of people brushed past you, hurrying toward their next destination, some sparing you brief glances before continuing on with their lives. After what felt like forever, you finally reached the manor. Over two and a half hours later than you were supposed to be home, you cursed Caleb inwardly for taking you somewhere so far from home. You dragged yourself through the massive front doors, the soles of your feet aching as your toes curled slightly against the soft carpet after hours of walking on harsh concrete. Slowly, you made your way toward the grand staircase, only to freeze when you noticed your father standing at the top.

He took in your slightly disheveled appearance, his gaze lingering on your smudged makeup and the heels dangling from your hand. “Do you understand how late it is right now?” “…” “Go to your room.” You rolled your eyes and muttered something under your breath as you walked past him. Once you reached your room, you tossed your heels onto the floor and stumbled toward your vanity, collapsing onto the cushioned stool with your head buried in your arms. A knock sounded against your door, but you stayed silent. Another knock followed before you heard a muffled, “I’m coming in!” Through the mirror, you watched Dick step into your room. You groaned quietly, inwardly rolling your eyes at the sight of him. “Do you need anything?” you sneered, already irritated from the night. Dick awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly unsure of how to talk to you. After your mother died, he slowly distanced himself from you, throwing himself into being a vigilante at night and a police officer in Blüdhaven during the day. Everything between the two of you changed after that your once tight knitted bond shattered although he likes to think differ. After all, she had been like a second mother to him, too. Catching your glare through the vanity mirror, he awkwardly coughed into his fist.

“Hey… you okay?” “…” Your eyes followed him as he sat down on your bed, staring at your disheveled figure with concern. “You really shouldn’t be outside right now… You know, with the new murderer going around.” Your heartbeat quickened for a split second, and you instinctively looked at Dick through the vanity mirror, only to quickly look away the moment your eyes met his. But your expression softened as your thoughts drifted back to the fight with Caleb. Guilt twisted in your chest. You knew he had only been trying to protect you, yet you threw a tantrum instead. He was right. You were jealous. You hated when other girls flirted with him at school, hated that you couldn’t openly call him yours, hated the lingering fear that one day he might slip from your grasp and into someone else’s. “I’m fine…” You muttered quietly. “(Name), I’ve known you since the day you were born. I don’t wanna watch you end up like…” His voice trailed off. You let out a slow sigh, knowing exactly who he meant, but stayed silent. The room slowly fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither of you knowing how to continue the conversation.

A faint knock echoed against your door. “We need to talk. Now.” You already knew who it was and gave a small nod. Dick got up from your bed and stepped closer to Bruce, trying to mediate the situation. “Bruce, give her a break.” “She can speak for herself.” Heat crawled across your skin as your palms grew sweaty. “Why did you go out without informing me, (Name)?” “I told Alfred…” “And it seems he trusted you too much.” You blinked back your tears rapidly, desperately trying to stop them from falling. “I-I didn’t mean to come home so late… I just… walked home and—” “You walked home?!” Dick interrupted, staring at you in disbelief, while Bruce somehow looked even angrier, his expression turning cold. Realizing you had only made things worse, you immediately went quiet. “Do you understand how dangerous it is for you to walk home alone?” “...”  “Answer me when I'm talking to you.” “…Yes.” “Then why did you do it?” Silence filled the room because even you didn’t have an answer. “As much as I want to defend you, (Name), Bruce is right,” Dick said quietly. You bit down harshly on your lip, trying to suppress the sob threatening to escape. “Another student was found dead while you were outside—”

‘they found Lizzy? but how...I thought Caleb got rid of her’

You whimpered softly, struggling to find your voice before finally breaking down into tears. “—That could’ve been you!” Bruce snapped. “From now on, you’re being homeschooled.” “Y-You can’t do that! Then I won’t be able to see him!” you cried out desperately. Bruce sighed in disappointment at your words he didn’t believe Jason or Damian but to hear it from you made it worse were you really going to throw your life away just to go on a date with some guy? With your high status you’d be the first person to taken as a hostage or get killed. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact you had made such a reckless decision, you were never like this before where is this behavior coming from? Did the boy corrupt your innocent mind— “YOU NEVER CARED ABOUT ME BEFORE!” Dick visibly flinched at your words. Deep down, he knew there was some truth behind them, but hearing them out loud felt like a knife being driven straight through his chest. Bruce didn’t look any better as he stood there, staring at his daughter sobbing in front of him.

“Get out, get out, get out—GET OUT!” you screamed out in one breath. “(Name), breathe. We can talk this out after you calm down a little, okay, pipsqueak?” Dick said cautiously. You gritted your teeth at the nickname. How dare he use that name after everything he’d done? That name didn’t belong to you anymore… no, it belonged to Damian now. A choked laugh escaped your throat as you grabbed the hand mirror from your vanity and swung it straight at Dick’s head in anger. The glass shattered on impact, pieces scattering across the floor while shards embedded themselves into his skin, blood immediately trickling down his face. Dick stumbled back slightly and touched the side of his head, staring at the blood coating his fingers in shock. Bruce eyes widened slightly in shock quickly moved toward him to make sure he was alright before turning toward you, but he didn’t yell or even react. Instead, he silently guided Dick out of your room. He didn't even bother to look at you before leaving your room with dick.

You let out a hollowed-out chuckle before it turned into hysterical laughter. You never felt so alive, that shock on his and Bruce's faces made you feel better in a sickly twisted way. If this was their reaction to something so small, you wondered how much worse it would be once you finally got rid of them for good. Bruce on the other hand who heard your psychotic laugh from the distance couldn't help but be reminded of the Joker, who has the same manic laughter echoing in his mind ever since he started terrorizing Gotham, a pit formed in his stomach but he didn’t know why there was nothing to worry about this was just a phase. While dick looked shocked that his baby sister would raise her hand against him of all people. Sure he could’ve predicted that any of his other siblings would be bold enough to harm him, especially Damian, who‘d covered him in stab wounds from his katana when they first met...but you? Why would you do that unprovoked...Sure, he hadn’t been there for you lately, but between being a vigilante and working in Blüdhaven, he convinced himself he was trying his best. At the end of the day, he was still your brother. Nausea twisted in his stomach as he hurried toward his room brushing off Bruce, leaving him standing alone. “Master Bruce, are you alright?” “…what am I doing wrong Alfred..what would she do in my place…”

A/N: OMG FINALLY I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER, be warned (Name might start to become more unhinged and unstable later on. I also want to thank everyone’s patience and support for this story, it really means a lot to me that people are enjoying my writing. Whenever I wanted to quit writing this story, I always remembered that some people are really looking forward to seeing the story progress, which gets me motivated.

A/N: Again, I will not have a set schedule, so I have ZERO idea when the next one is coming out since I didn’t even start writing it lol.

A/N: As always, please comment your thoughts and comments. I love love love reading them, it motivates me A LOT. Idk if some of you guys read my announcement post, but I’ve been hit with writer's block, and I’m slowly, but surely getting through it. I’m finding myself itching to write more and quickly finish this before moving on to a new story. I will absolutely not start a new project until I finish this one, so I won’t have any distractions or be overwhelmed with writing multiple things at the same time.

A/N: As for the face for Caleb, I'll leave that to your imagination. I won't go into too much detail, so I don't shatter the fantasy of whoever you're imagining, but I will be describing basic stuff.

A/N: Also, let me know what some of YOUR predictions for the future chapters are

A/N: like always I hope you guys have a wonderful time scrolling, and I hope to see you sooner or later!

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @mitinhasmitose, @marzzrambles, @nervouslyfiercequeen, @royaltyofcards, @sleepypanda892, @chairoart, @moanemoni, @starry-da, @ghostlyworld, @star-seeking-a-heart, @hanz-176, @funstuffformeyay, @inwhichiwanttoread, @juhii, @terraheart2216, @supersonicoxo, @klutzymermaid, @acornacreacure, @tap23, @apelepikozume, @maetheficmuncher, @neverending-animelove, @fauna-the-bizzy-bee143, @shonwithnohope, @cheryyyyyyyyyy6666, @loxbbg, @eyes-ofhell, @nana-love-bugzzz, @chaosandcandies, @piercing-gaze, @batfambat, @time-shardz, @chiikawaffle, @mxvoid26, @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @candybat89, @vanessa-boo, @irenehart02, @bumbl3-b33z, @ssonissum, @hilunax, @jealouscupcake, @hearts4mica, @shddyboo, @louvergurl, @d4rkf10w3r, @mim16s, @herdarlin, @littlelovebug98, @mel-vaz, @red-hood132, @weirdling8, @cupid73, @nymphzy0, @candybat89, @kohaiyuki, @maaaahhhiii, @seahzae, @simbaratama, @lizzie1grant, @bambibbam, @skepvids, @twismare, @,dreamerwhofell, @realhumanoidforsure, @exosyu, @ryuushou, @jasontoddsfavcrowbar, @risu-es, @byzantiumhollow, @gaialolz, @lovebug-apple,

[otakusimp1]

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ 1: @mitinhasmitose, @marzzrambles, @nervouslyfiercequeen, @royaltyofcards, @sleepypanda892, @chairoart, @moanemoni, @starry-da, @ghostlyworld, @star-seeking-a-heart, @hanz-176, @funstuffformeyay, @inwhichiwanttoread, @juhii, @terraheart2216, @supersonicoxo, @klutzymermaid, @acornacreacure, @tap23, @apelepikozume, @maetheficmuncher, @neverending-animelove, @fauna-the-bizzy-bee143, @shonwithnohope, @cheryyyyyyyyyy6666, @loxbbg, @eyes-ofhell, @nana-love-bugzzz, @chaosandcandies, @piercing-gaze, @batfambat, @time-shardz, @chiikawaffle, @mxvoid26, @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @candybat89, @vanessa-boo, @irenehart02, @bumbl3-b33z, @ssonissum, @hilunax, @jealouscupcake, @hearts4mica, @shddyboo, @louvergurl, @d4rkf10w3r, @mim16s, @herdarlin, @littlelovebug98, @mel-vaz, @red-hood132,

[clemmmmmmmmmmmmmm]

“free the nip.”

2 posts one day?? AHHH.I was in the zone writing this.Bc my crotch goblin is finally asleep

Batboys x Reader:No bra

Bruce Wayne

Notices immediately. Says nothing. Internally combusting.

You walk into the Batcave one night in a loose tank top. No bra. Bruce glances up from his computer… and then freezes.

Eyes flicker back to the screen. Then back to you.

Then the screen again.

“You’re… comfortable, I see.”

You smirk.

“That a problem?”

He swallows, voice rough:

“Not at all.”

Five minutes later, you’re on his lap and the cowl’s off. You did not finish that movie.

⸻

Dick Grayson

Fully loses his mind. Respectfully.

Dick’s brain short-circuits the first time you hop onto the couch in a crop top, no bra, totally unbothered.

He tries so hard to keep eye contact.

Fails.

“Babe. I’m trying to focus. I swear.”

You: “You’ve been staring at my chest for ten minutes.”

“Because it’s RIGHT THERE. And amazing. And I’m just a guy-“

He gets adorably clingy after that. Arms constantly around you, face in your chest.

“This is a safe space. For both of us.”

⸻

Jason Todd

Thinks it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever done, even if it’s not on purpose.

You walk out of the shower in a big shirt and nothing underneath.

Jason literally chokes on his coffee.

“You tryna kill me, sweetheart?”

You laugh and shrug. “Bras suck.”

He grins, eyes dark.

“Nah, don’t stop on my account. Free the girls. Live your truth.”

Next thing you know, he’s behind you in the kitchen, hands “accidentally” grazing every time he reaches past you.

“Oops.”

He’s definitely the one who says,

“You’re not wearing a bra? That’s crazy. We should celebrate.”

⸻

Tim Drake

Brain. Melted.

You’re working in the same room. He’s coding. You’re lounging. Braless.

It takes 3 minutes for him to forget how to spell his own name.

“Did you just delete your own code?”

“I-yes. Maybe. I don’t know what’s happening anymore.”

You teasingly stretch. He nearly drops his laptop.

Later, when you ask why he’s so red, he mutters:

“I support your comfort and liberation. But I’m so unwell right now.”

⸻

Damian Wayne

Judgy at first. Then realizes he’s obsessed.

You mention you don’t like wearing bras.

He frowns.

“Tt. They exist for support. Do you want back pain?”

You: “No, I want freedom.”

He shuts up real quick when you demonstrate.

His brain slows to 0.2 fps the second he sees you move naturally around him.

He adjusts his collar. A lot.

“You may do what you wish. It is… aesthetically pleasing.”

He gets insanely protective when you go out like that. Glares at anyone who stares too long.

“They are not allowed to appreciate what is mine.”

[horrorthrills]

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙶𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝙳𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎

𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 8: 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖧𝗈𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗌

1.1K Words

I've crossed the county line, I can not go back. I'm always on my own.

It was subtle at first. In fact, it was practically non-existent. And if you thought you saw something, it could easily be brushed off as a coincidence or a trick of the light. 

But after a while, it became more obvious.

When you’d go out to lunch with Penelope and Jake, you’d catch people sending you prolonged looks. They’d look away when caught, most of the time, but the select few that didn’t shift their gazes freaked you out.

They were watching.

Why, you did know. You doubt they were interested in what you were eating.

It was when they began pointing and whispering that you started taking rain checks on the time you spent with your friends outside the Museum. It stopped being just a lunch date thing and began following you everywhere. The grocery store, restaurants, the gas station, and even down the street on your runs.

Their eyes tailed you while your name got comfortable on their tongues. 

They knew your name.   

Sure, Penelope and Jake knew who you were, but only after you introduced yourself. Back in Gotham, the press didn’t pay much attention to you in favor of the more interesting members of your once family. Like, really, how interested would the public be in the middle child who ran track and field and liked to draw? But in all honesty, that was probably the one source of attention you didn’t mind living without. Maybe it was a good thing that you were forgotten about. Back in Gotham, you at least had privacy.

But these people watched your every move and they knew your name. 

With a little over three weeks left of the semester, things got so much worse.

One brisk morning, on your day off, you went for your routine jog down and around a few blocks. It was just a few miles. 

It started off fine. Normal. 

The sun was just starting to turn the clouds overhead into a heavenly glow while the shadows casted by buildings kept the roads shrouded in a cool blue. There weren’t very many people out and about yet. It was still too early for most.

At that moment, it was quiet. 

Or what most people thought was quiet.

The sound of your outsoles striking the pavement, the controlled breaths you released that formed little clouds in front of you, the morning melody of early birds getting their worms.

It wasn’t completely quiet, but it was peaceful.

That was, until it was disturbed.

“(Name)! (Name)! Over here!”

The shouts startled you. And when you whipped your head in the direction it came from, camera flashes blinded your vision.

It was a group of people and they were taking your photo.

You picked up your pace from what was supposed to be an easy run, into a full on marathon race as the paparazzi–press–whoever they were, called your name behind you and clicked their cameras. A few tried to even run with you, but it wasn’t long before you were able to turn a corner and lose them.

But the feeling of being chased and watched didn’t let up.

You didn’t slow down until you entered the safety of your apartment.

They were following you.

They found where you lived, and they were following you.

You caved and finally checked the Gotham news. You haven’t done that in a while. 

For a time, you stopped caring about what affairs were going on in your old place of residence. They didn’t care about you, so you stopped caring about them. Maybe then, you would finally break free from your past.

But it followed you.

Article after article. Headline after headline.

(Name) Wayne, the Wayward Child.

(Name) Wayne Spotted in Los Angeles, Over 3,000 Miles From Gotham.

(Name) Wayne Found Interning at the Getty Center in Los Angeles, CA.

(Name) Wayne, the One Who Got Away!

(Name) Wayne.

(Name) Wayne.

(Name) Wayne.

(Name) Wayne.

You don’t leave your apartment unless absolutely necessary. Only for your job, and for groceries. Otherwise, no lunch dates with your friends or any other recreational activity.

You’ve taken to using the treadmill in your apartment’s downstairs gym.

Your phone’s been ringing non-stop. You don’t answer it. 

Not from Bruce. Not from Dick. Or Jason, Tim, Damian, or Alfred.

Not from Penelope or Jake.

Anyone.

Not even Lois.

Not even Clark.

And not even Jon.

It was too loud.

Why can’t they just leave you alone?

Your nightmares changed.

From what used to be you bleeding against or impaled by sharp rocks, alone under a starless night, turned into you drowning in a glass box with people watching.

Laughing. 

Taking pictures.

Sometimes they would chase you and tear you limb from limb, using your torture as a source of entertainment.

Every night, you woke up screaming.

Every night, you woke up alone.

Good. Alone was safe.

No one could get you if you were alone.

You didn’t call for Clark.

The semester couldn’t be over soon enough. Pretending to be a perfectly functioning human when you felt like a hunted animal made your perception of time warp and stretch.

You’ve lost so much sleep to the nightmares. You didn’t know what day it was.

All you knew was that daytime was bad, it was dangerous.

Night was safe.

Well, it was safe after you woke up. 

If you fell asleep to begin with.

Your stars kept you safe.

Your stars kept you company.

They were the only company you needed.

When December came, you could have cried when your supervisor signed off on your last report you needed to send to your advisor over at GCU.

You did it.

You were gonna graduate.

You were gonna be free.

But not here, you couldn’t be free here.

Gotham found you in LA. Metropolis knew you were here.

The calls didn’t stop. Not even after the 50th time you let it go to voicemail.

The. Phone. Kept. Ringing.

And the press, they wouldn’t leave you alone.

They kept trying to get a statement from you. They kept taking your picture. They kept following and chasing you.

Your past found you and it was trying to drag you back.

You didn’t want to go back. You couldn’t. That place left you broken and hurt.

It was all too loud.

It was all too much.

Your contract with the Getty Center has officially ended, as well as your apartment’s three month lease. You now had no obligation to this God forsaken place. It became just another cage.

So, you shut your phone completely off and did what you did best.

You ran away.

a/n: Another shorter chapter, but I hoped it packed the punch I was striving for. The next ones will also probably be short, but who knows? I don't! Sorry for the lack of horses in this chapter, I believe they are a metaphor for facing scary and uncertain times in the song itself. BUT in real horse news: my neighbor's horses are in my yard again and they are cutely rolling around in the grass, soaking it the sun's warmth and probably scratching their backs! Anyways, LMK your thoughts and thank you for reading!

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖣𝗂𝗏𝗂𝖽𝖾: 𝖠 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

[spicymotte]

last WIP of the mermay comic until I'm done cooking. bon appétit

[bocchitherock208]

When I grow up

ShizukaKuze!Reader x Neglectful!Batfam

I hate it

'Reader' hates weekday mornings. She hates the idea of having to wake up early and get ready, before leaving Chappy alone for several hours.

She hates it. She hates how everyone seemed to be uncomfortable whenever she would join them for breakfast.

She's tried to eat at an earlier time where she wouldn't have to see anyone, but it didn't work out so she just began to skip breakfast altogether.

And she would dare eat the school breakfast they serve, considering the last time she did her bullies found her and threw it on the floor right in front of her. Right after they put trash in her food and then forced her to eat it.

She really hates them.

Though unfortunately she doesn't get a say in whether or not she goes to school so as always, she sucked it up, took the lunch Alfred made for her and climbed in the car sitting right next to Damian.

She hates him the most. Somehow even more than her bullies

He always ignored and avoided her. He never spoke to her if she didn't talk to him first. Though that didn't stop him from spitting harsh words, whispering insults as he passed her and talking shit about her to the others. Though he never outright insulted her, making to dig at her in a way only she would notice.

When she first came over, he too had just begun living at the manor. He had been there a few months longer than her, and when she stupidly walked up to him, hoping he'd been kind to her since they both shared the same blood he pressed the blade of his katana against her neck.

Threatening her along with spewing insults about how weak she was, and how whore her mother is. It was only when Chappy bit his wrist and Bruce intervened did he stop.

He made the excuse of Damian having a hard past before he came to the manor, an attempt to downplay the boy's actions even though he quite literally threatened to kill her.

She was glad Damian didn't hit Chappy, and only grabbed his hand from her dogs mouth and walked away. Though she was truly worried and afraid of what his dog Titus would do to her and Chappy.

She cried a lot in Chappy's fur that night.

She glanced at Damian before looking out her window with a tired look in her eyes, she was already dreading the kind of day school would bring.

Wanting to be nowhere other than in her room with Chappy. When they got out of the car and waved Alfred goodbye, the day went by so agonizingly slow.

She ignored the harsh remarks the girls said to her, ignored what the teacher was teaching, and ignored the way Damian looked at her with such disdain when he began to avoid her as he always did.

She kept quiet, didn't think about the way the teacher didn't bat an eye to the obvious bullying that was happening.

Not caring even when he saw the girls throw away, and break her stuff. Turning a blind eye to the profanities that were both written on her desk and said to her right in front of him.

She hates her school. She hates her so-called brother. She hates her teacher. And she hates her bullies. She hates everything.

Though at least today she didn't get hit.

When school finally ended she quickly made her way outside and to the pick-up lane. She saw Damian, she saw the way his face immediately turned into a glare when he noticed her. She ignored the urge to roll her eyes and walk away and instead walked towards him.

He obviously got even more bothered by that but didn't say anything and instead looked away from her direction. He still cannot stand the sight of her it would seem.

They both stood there in silence, waiting for Alfred for long minutes. It was when around 30 minutes had passed and there were only a few handful of students including themselves did Damian finally spoke up.

It might have been the first and last time he ever spoke to her unprompted.

"It would seem Mister Pennyworth won't be picking us up. We'll have to walk"

His tone was harsh bitter. It felt like he wasn't stating something but was insulting her. And almost immediately after he said that he began to walk off.

And only after seeing him about a yard away from her did 'Reader' start walking and following him. She didn't want to be close as they walked so she made sure to stay away from a distance.

They made it about halfway to the manor when 'Reader' heard a small cry come from a dark alleyway. Now, she wasn't stupid.

As a young Gothamite she knew to always be alert while walking through the city. To never be curious, mind your business, and if you hear something no you don't. KEEP WALKING.

It was a lesson every citizen in this city had come to learn if they wanted to survive Lady Gotham's wrath. But even as 'Reader' kept walking, she could still hear the cries so clearly even when they got fainter and fainter to where she couldn't hear them when she got far enough.

And the feeling of something or one going through something horrible while she merely turned her head away killed her on the inside. She stopped walking and watched as the back of her half-brother went further and further away from where she stood.

She turned around and began to quickly walk back. She didn't know whether or not Damian had l heard the cries and ignored them like any other person, or if he just simply hadn't heard it.

She started to hear those quiet cries and they became more and more louder the closer she got. When she stood right outside of the alley, standing in the light which contrasted the darkness she slowly got on one knee to softly ask

"Hey, is someone there?

After only a moment 'Reader' heard another small noise

"Pi.."

And then almost instantly something began quickly crawling out of the alleyway over to her. Damn it, She should've just stuck by the rules and minded.

"What the..."

She nearly stood back up so she could bolt off with her life still intact. She might not have made far but it was better than being more of an idiot than she's already been. But before she could move a muscle, a strange small pink octopus came out. It must've been who the sounds were coming from.

She felt the cold Gotham air blow against her skin, making her squint one eye as she gawked at the tiny pink creature. It looked at her for a moment before small tears gaped in its eyes and it pathetically said in a small voice

"I'm hungry-pi"

TAKOPI IS HERE!!

I'm so happy I finally got this out, and at how many people seemed to like the first chapter. I can't wait to get more chapters rolling out, and since the end of school is almost here I'll be able to get a lot more out during summer

Also fyi I'm gonna do a bit of a canon divergence from the actual anime of Takopi's original sin so I'm really sorry about that. No Marina or Azuma, again really sorry if you were hoping to see them😞😞

Anyways if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes my apologies again I am dyslexic :')

Anyways bye bye see ya next time :DDD

[aplpple]

Yan! Platonic Joker?!

Platonic Yandere

Joker Headcanons

Arkham Joker mostly

Repost, please

330 words

Headcanons

To see other works ——> M-list

It's gonna short, but I have some ideas about it...

Firstly, I don't think Joker aka Jack White can be parental yandere. This concept just doesn't work because of his clear madness. Joker is very complex character, so I guess, he may kill Reader if they become boring or something else.

You can say: Aplpple, but he's got Harley and Punchline! And he hasn't killed them yet! Actually, there are comics, where Joker killed them both, but I'll pretend there aren't. Harley is mostly his sidekick, so Joker can live without her. In Platonic Yandere conception, I'd prefer him not killing Reader and live happily.

That's why I clearly see him as an «owner». Let's imagine teen Reader, maybe even a child. Instead of Harley's sidekick/lover personality, Reader may be... a pet.

You know these anti-suicaidal pets, that parents give their children? Reader can play a role of it, but for Joker.

You went missing ten months ago. Calendar on an old wall helped you to determine time first weeks, by, c'mon, you don't even remember you name now.

You've learnt the rules quickly: when little bitch Mrs. Jay He orders «Jump!» — you jump, «Sit, little piggy!» — you sit. So easy, right?

Today Mr. Jay is so angry! He punched Harley! Talks about scary Bat even more than usual. Such a shame! You get closer to his coach and slightly moving jealous Mrs. Jay. Bark twice. Put your head on his lap, licking his pretty purple pants.

— Or, Harley! Look at our precious puppy! So smart, always know, what I need. Unlike you! — he throws something at her, oh, it might be a bomb... With long scream Mrs. Jay ran out of the room. Mr. Jay, your dear Master, laughs and laughs. You even feel that feeling in your puppy heart. Joy, happiness, loyalty. Maybe, it is a blessing, that you don't remember first days: torture, hunger, pain, collar.

You bark again.

Joker tortured you first days.

You have your own puppy suit, made by Harley, clowny and cute. Purple polka dot shorts, green shirt with rhomb print and highlight of your look — huge red clown nose on your face. Joker says it fits you more, than your own skin.

Your big dog bed near Joker's one is made of your parents' skin.

First and last escape attempt was disturbing. These were days, when you still thought you could escpae. His boys got you and beat you so badly that in the end you were missing a couple of teeth and almost all hair.

Batman doesn't know about you. Yet.

My first request yay! Tumbler works bad, so it took more time

[markeater]

Y/n: *Looking up* Come onnnnn univerrse!! I'm a good personn. Give me a sign!

*Watching in horror as a horde of your ex swarms out of green portals in the sky*