Yandere Platonic Batfamily x Neglected Coraline Reader
Warning: yandere behaviors & a flash back to last chapter
Light rays sprinkle through the ornate window, coating the bathroom in golden hues. The light bounced off the mirror in front of you, highlighting your features in perfect 4k quality. You could make the pores all over the skin, and the individual hairs that decided not to cooperate that morning. However, nothing was as notable as the giant, blue scrubs color, eye patch that covered the upper part of your cheek all the way up and over your eyebrow.
It has been two weeks since everything went down, and you are still struggling to accept it. The weeks have sped by at a dizzying pace while also dragging on to the point of utter boredom.
It took only an hour after you woke up for a doctor to be by your side, examining your condition. The older woman was calm and sweet while performing the tests; however, the Waynes were buzzing around as if they had nothing better to do. They threw countless questions about your well-being at the lady, all of which were met with her sweet voice saying she wasn't sure yet. Less than five hours after you had awoken, your results came in. You had lost quite a bit of blood and were a little malnourished, but both those things were temporary. The one thing that couldn't be fixed was your eye.
Your eye was gone for good, and the surrounding skin was developing an infection due to the messy removal process. She spoke about getting you a fake eye in the future when the injuries were fully healed. Until then, you were stuck wearing a giant eye patch.
Once that was revealed, there was panic. The poor doctor was swarmed by half of the family with questions about the healing process, while the other half glued themselves to your side, trying to comfort you. It felt like years before the onslaught of questions ended, and the doctor was allowed to leave.
That's when things really started to slow down to a glacial pace. It was decided that you would take a leave of absence from school to focus on healing. They would reach out to your school to get your missed work excused, while also finding out what your curriculum was so that you won't fall behind. Your schedule became mostly rest, with brief tutoring sessions interspersed. The lessons were given to you by the Waynes themselves.
Ever since you were saved, the whole family has been acting strangely. They have all been hovering around you like moths around a porch lamp, constantly slamming into the glass case around the lightbulb. They refuse to leave you alone, with at least one person in the same room as you at all times in case of an emergency. The only times you actually get a second to yourself is when you're in the bathroom, and even that-.
You finished wiping off your hands before pulling open the bathroom door. Right outside was Dick, who for once wasn't wearing his usual smile, instead sporting an annoyed glare that was directed at his oldest younger sibling. Jason showed no care for Dick's harsh gaze, his focus first on his phone, then on you as you slipped out of the washroom. The younger man was slumped on your new bed, his beat-up combat boots sinking into the plush carpet right next to where Alfred the cat was sitting while staring at the bathroom door.
Yes, you got a new bed along with an entirely new room. It was quickly decided that you would never be returning to your old room for obvious reasons; however, the new location became the subject of a heated debate. Everyone had their own reasons why your room should be placed next to theirs. The argument was that you would be safest if located next to them, but no one could agree on specifics. Everyone claimed they were the best choice, with Jason and Dick both offering to move back into the manor if needed. In the end, your room became Dick's old room; it was right next to Mr. Wayne's and Tim's rooms and directly across from Damian's.
Once Mr. Wayne put his stamp of approval on it, everyone started moving Dick's old stuff to another spare room on the family wing and moving your belongings in. It was a tornado of things being thrown in and out of the room, and someone was always walking in or out. Well, except for you, as you were plopped down on the bed, being given the job of directing everyone on where you wanted your stuff to go. A job that you weren't the best at, as you just kept shrugging anytime someone would ask. A pile of your things started to form on the ground, so you could decide later where you wanted it all to go. However, they kept asking everything they reentered the room, if you knew where yet.
It was nice of them to do so, and you feel a little bad for thinking this, but it got really annoying. The feeling has been simmering in your guts ever since you woke up. They're all so worried about you, which is very nice of them and a huge difference from how they treated you before. But it's so much.
A day after your stuff was moved, you decided it was time to organize, because what else were you going to do, but before you could even grab the first thing, Steph was over your shoulder, asking what you were doing. Once you explained, she plopped you down on the bed and told you to direct her where to go. Also, you started taking medication for your infected eye, and every time you have to take the pill, someone else grabs the container, opens it, and takes out a pill for you. They treat you like a toddler, and it's so frustrating!
You're now stuck at the manor 24/7 with nothing to do but sleep and be with the Waynes. If you want to watch a show, then expect everyone to flock to the couch as you sit down. If you want to read a book in the library, someone appears from around a corner asking if you want them to read to you. If you want to go outside for some fresh air, you better expect someone waiting by the door, sunscreen in hand, to make sure you're covered before escorting you into the back gardens. It's just way too much, and you're really sick of it.
But how do you tell them to buzz off? They're doing all of this because they're worried about you. This whole thing wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you. So, maybe this is your punishment for being dumb? You just gotta suck it up and deal with it.
"Good morning, kiddo! Did you get a good nights sleep?" Dick chirped with far too much energy for someone who was out all of last night. You nodded as Dick scooped you up in his arms like you weighed nothing. "That's good since someone let you oversleep." His brightness fell fast as he turned his attention from you to Jason.
"They wanted to sleep. Did you want me to drag them out of bed?" Jason huffed.
"They missed breakfast. They need to eat."
Dick didn't seem to have a good enough response, so he switched strategies. "Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be going back to your place? You have patrol tonight."
"Shouldn't you be heading back to Bludhaven?"
"I'm leaving tonight after hanging out with this one." Partway through his sentence, he turned back to you, his smile returning, his voice jumping up to show his excitement, like a parent trying to make their baby happy.
Jason huffed at the display (pretending like he's so much better when he spent most of last night reading you a bedtime story). He climbed to his feet, striding over to you like a cool guy with a nonchalant look and one of his hands in his pocket. He ignored Dick's cooing to pat you on the head, giving you a small smile while humming, "see ya later."
With that, Jason left, not even bothering to say goodbye to Dick. But that didn't bother Dick as he just kept babying you. You were both stuck in your room for another five minutes while the man baby talked to you. But finally, he decided it was time for you to get some lunch and placed you back on the ground. However, that doesn't mean freedom, as he grabbed your hand to lead you from one room to another. While walking, he chatted on about what the two of you would be doing today. Apparently, he was your babysitter today so that you would be stuck with this energy all day. Which wasn't the worst opinion, but it wasn't the best either. Note to self, start making a mental list of the worst to best babysitters.
As you were creating your tier list, the three of you walked down the sprawling hallways till you arrived at the kitchen door. Dick, of course, held it open for you (because apparently losing your eyes means you can't open doors anymore) while saying, "Now what do you wanna-. What are you guys doing here?"
There, sitting at the kitchen island, were Tim and Cass, both on their phone, seemingly waiting for something or someone to show up. Neither of them acknowledges their eldest sibling, instead prioritizing their youngest. "Hey, what do you want for lunch?" Tim asked, sliding his phone into his pocket, while Cass got up and headed over to start preparing lunch.
You let go of Dick's hand to go grab some food, and with how his face looked you would thought someone kicked Haley. His smile faded to a deep frown, betrayal reflected in his eyes. But that's not your problem. You are hungry—time to grab those leftovers of your favorite meal that Alfred made the other night. Alfred the cat also paid no mind to Dick as he strode up next to you, following you around the kitchen.
As you walked across the freshly polished floor, expecting to go to the refrigerator and make yourself some food, Cass placed a warm dish in your hands, steam rising from it. But, how did she? There's no way she would have had the time. You literally just walked into the room! You look up at her for answers, only to be met with her walking back to her seat, matching dish in hand.
You know what? You gotta stop questioning them, for the sake of your sanity.
You sat down next to Cass, scarfing your food down like a starved dog. Alfred, in turn, was munching his breakfast out of his food bowl. Not too long after, Dick brought his food over to the table, leaning next to you instead of taking the open bar stool next to Tim.
"Are you going to grab anything?" Dick questioned, raising an eyebrow at Tim.
"Nope, I already ate," Tim said, still scrolling through his phone.
"Then why are you still here?"
"Am I not allowed to exist in my own home, Dickie?"
Their bickering continued throughout the entire meal, like it always did for the Waynes. However, something was different about this. The undertones were less comedic than what you had overheard the times you would pass the Waynes relaxing after a successful mission. There is an underlying tension that has slowed your eating as you try to understand what this feeling might be. Only for Cass to place her hand on your head, patting your head, while also stopping you from looking up or over at Dick or Tim.
The meal ended not long after, leaving the question of what that feeling was with it. But there's no time to ponder that as Dick pulls you back to your room, Alfred following behind like a loyal soldier.
After the first week in your new room, everyone decided it was time to personalize it. No longer would your room look like a guest room. They claimed that they wanted to make you feel more like a permanent resident of the Manor. Which almost made you cry when they said that. However, they were still as overbearing about this as with everything else. Paint swatches and furniture pieces bombarded you as you were thousands of questions about your personal taste.
Your room was now painted in a muted version of your favorite color. It was the first thing they did, and the painting took a day. You had to spend the night in someone else's room while the paint dried. You weren't in the room when it was being decided, but you could hear the yelling through the walls. A few days later, it was decided that you needed a completely knew bedframe and mattress. They all swarmed you with different styles till you finally picked one (aka you picked one at random, and thankfully, you liked it). For the last few days, they have been getting matching pieces and decorations that you also picked in a panic. Now, they were 'helping' you place everything (aka, you sitting on your bed while they move everything).
So, as the two of you walked, Dick talked about where you wanted everything to go until he got to your room. They're already starting to move your desk, Steph. And once again, Dick's smile fell. "Whatcha doing here?" Dick spoke with a hiss in his tone.
"Helping, of course, we gotta get their room looking better." Steph winked over to you before getting right back to work.
Begrudgingly, Dick placed you on your bed before going over to help Steph. Alfred jumped up on the bed, curling up in your lap. For the next two hours, you watched as the two bickered back and forth.
About an hour in, they were sorting through the few belongings you had, finding places for them around the room. Steph was pulling another object out of the tubes that they threw your stuff into during your rapid move. She wasn't even paying attention as she pulled out a worn picture frame. Before she noticed what it was, you had already seen the image.
You haven't seen the picture of your mother since everything happened. For a fraction of a second, fear ran up your spine. Fear. From seeing a picture of your mother. That made your heart hurt. Thanks to the monster that pretended to be your mother, you're scared of seeing her now.
Your mouth twitched downward, and both of them moved so fast. The picture was thrown back into the box, and the box was pushed behind another piece of furniture outside of your line of sight. While Dick ran in front of you, his voice slightly higher. "Hey, I forgot, but Duke asked me to give this to you." His motions were overexaggerated, trying to keep your focus on him. He strode across his room and dove into his backpack. He pulled out a large book before doing a cartwheel (showoff) to place it in your hands. It was a new sketchbook, not just a notebook you doodled in, but a real one with thick, crisp paper.
You kept this secret close to your heart, but since the Waynes' sudden interest in you, Duke has become your favorite family member. Unlike everyone else, he talks with you like you're a person. When both of you get a second to yourselves, you both exchange stories about your shared experience growing up in the Narrows. Both of you would go to the same parks with your friends and to the same corner store on hot summer days because it had the best and cheapest lemonade in the whole city. He said that one day, he'll take you there again, and that promise helps you get through the more difficult moments. And once again, Duke pulled through for you. If only he didn't have the day shift, then the two of you could hang out more.
After that hump, things returned to normal. You watched as the two sorted through your belongings and talked about getting you new equipment so you could try out all of your family members' hobbies and tripling the size of your casual wardrobe.
Finally, three o'clock rolled around, and it was time to head to the library, much to Dick's and Steph's dismay. Both whined for you to stay just a minute longer, which you had to deny, for when you did three days ago, Damian scolded you for fifteen minutes.
The fastest way to the library from the family wing is to pass by the guest wing, but the Waynes wouldn't allow that. The moment you even step foot in that general direction, someone is grabbing your hand and pulling you into another side hallway. Every time you walk down the hallway, you are accompanied by someone. This must be what it feels like to be a famous person, constantly surrounded by security. But you don't think security would constantly ask if you want to be carried (the manor is huge, but it's not like you're walking across the city, dang).
The four of you arrived at the library's door, where Steph and Dick had a dramatic parting from you, both of them giving you a giant hug, basically pressing you between two boulders.
Then, you entered the freshly dusted library, walking past the first row of books, to the study area right by the windows. There was the normal crew: Damian and Barbara. Damian had all of his notes from the day spread out across the table, while Babs typed away at her computer. Alfred ran forward, leaping up onto his favorite napping spot on the window seal, where he could bask in the sunlight.
With your absence from school, Damian had taken it upon himself to make sure you don't fall behind. His tutoring is overwhelming to say the least, with him breezing through units faster than you can comprehend. The first day he decided to teach you, he practically dragged you out of bed and to the library, throwing everything you had missed at you. Which would already be so much, but add to that Damian is in the accelerated class, and that most of the information you aren't required to know. It was too much. That's where Babs comes in; she popped in during your first lesson, like an angel sent down from heaven, and she re-explained everything to you, dumbing it down to normal people's levels. Now, both of them are your private tutors, working together to teach you everything you had missed at school that day.
"We had a history test today, so I'll be testing you with my own question." Damian boasted as you sat down at the table, blank notebook paper already laid out for you. "Now, first question is I want you to write an essay on-."
"Damian," Babs cut in, not even looking up from her computer.
"What!? I wrote an essay today in class on top of all the multiple-choice questions!"
Even with the removed essay question, the test was still a challenge. At the end of it, you slumped into your chair with a level of exhaustion greater than that of any marathon runner. You got five minutes between lessons to rest. Nowhere near enough time to pull yourself back together, but you'll take it.
"You did satisfactorily, but you struggle a bit with dates. You also confused some names."
"Good job, kiddo." Babs hummed, finally looking away from her screen to smile at you.
"Thanks. Also, have you-." You started to say, as you did every day since the tutoring lessons started.
"No," Damian jumped in. "Wyatt was not at school today. I suspect that he transferred schools. His family does have multiple businesses across the state."
"I think I saw their house go on the market today," Babs added. She moved her chair closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "Sorry."
"It's okay." So, he moved. Without telling you, and while ignoring all your texts. Maybe he broke his phone? Changed numbers? Or maybe, you got too attached too quickly again and overestimated how close the two of you were. Another hard lesson learned.
"Alright, now let's get back to work. Our next subject is math."
The rest of your session went well. Damian went slower than he usually does, and Babs had to cut in less. At the end of it, your brain was only slightly overloaded. As always, Damian took your supplies away before you had a chance to clean them yourself. Then, Babs took your hand, and all of you headed to the dining room.
The chandelier sparkled like amber, coating the room in a warm glow, like-. Like it did in the other manor. The hand around your wrist squeezed, the light pressure returning you to reality. Alfred rubbed up against your leg, letting out a soft purr as he led you to your seat.
As with every decision that comes to you, it became a huge argument on where you would sit in the dining room. Well, not really you. You took the seat closest to the dining room door, right next to the head of the table. The problem was everyone else. For a while, it was a first-come, first-served system, where everyone would rush in, fighting each other for the spots closest to you. But, after you almost got pushed over in one of the scuffles, everyone got a designated spot.
The current positions are Babs right across from you, with Tim right next to her. Cass sits right next to you, which always happened even when everyone was fighting for their seats. Damian sat next to Cass, across from Duke. Steph, Dick, and Jason sat at the end of the table (guess he came back). And, of course, Alfred sat under your chair, his tail occasionally tapping your foot.
Finally, the head of the table: Mr. Wayne. His suit was wrinkled, and the bags under his eyes were prominent from spending all day at Wayne Enterprise. He practically fell into his chair, gravity pulling on his tired muscles. Yet he continues to go, greeting everyone, giving you especially close attention. Seeing him smile was weird. Not the press smile, but a genuine smile like he was happy to see you. You're just not used to it.
Now that everyone is here, it's time for dinner. Alfred was going around the table placing plates in front of everyone, stacked high with a freshly made dish. The meal started quickly, chatter filling the room. They are starting to talk about patrol, something about a Siren. You didn't understand a word they were saying. You might have if you were paying attention. But this whole situation was just so much like-.
The noise faded to the background, the colors melting to the floor. All at once, you were back there. Your ears were burning with the sounds of your own screams. You could feel the blood dripping down your body, soaking your shirt in it, making it weight one hundred pounds. The pain sears in your eye, as the last moments of you having two eyes come back like a flood breaking through a dam to destroy whatever's in its path.
"Hey," A word broke through the chaos swirling in your skull, the base in their voice somehow stronger than the screams. The next thing they said was your name in a grounding tone that brought some of the color back to the room. "It's okay. You're safe. No one is trying to hurt you."
What finally broke you out of your own mind was the hand that was placed on top of yours. Those giant calloused hands, which belong to none other than Mr. Wayne. His ice blue eyes were staring right past you into your soul, showing a paternal side that, if you asked yourself two weeks ago, you would say doesn't exist. But now, you see a whole lot.
"How about we go back to your room, and I'll bring your dinner to you later?" You took a long, deep breath, feeling every bit of oxygen that entered your lungs. Then, you nodded. "Okay. Cass, can you take them"?
You assumed she nodded as her arms circled you, pulling you out of the chair and into her warm embrace. You fell into her, letting your head slot onto her shoulder as she walked out of the dining room, passing the family portrait that Mr. W-, Dad promised you they would all redo soon after your eye healed more.
Bruce climbed up the stairs, a freshly heated plate of food in his hand. After you left, dinner fell into disarray. Everyone wanted to go up and check on you. It took threatening to ban everyone from patrol for a week to stop them from rushing the door.
Then it took even longer to get them settled down after Cass didn't come after ten minutes. Everyone started texting her about when she was coming downstairs, and she replied with "never." The room basically exploded.
Finally, everything had calmed down. Dick is on his way back to Bludhaven. Jason was stopping by his place for more equipment before heading out. Duke was finishing up his homework for the night. Babs is doing a bit of work at the Clocktower before leaving to go help the Birds of Prey with a mission. Tim and Damin were filling in for Bruce that night, patrolling over the city. Steph was meeting with the Gotham Sirens to help them stop a corrupt company from destroying the Gotham Botanical Gardens, so they could buy the land.
Soon, Bruce could dismiss Cass so the girl could get a proper night's sleep, and he could take over looking after you.
Then, Bruce froze as he carefully placed your food on a nearby table. At lightning speed, he threw his leg up into the air, slamming back down to the ground. The sound of wood creaking and metal shattering rushed through the halls.
Then, once again, everything was still as Bruce surveyed the ground. A pile of needles decorated the floor, all the needles broken thanks to the impact. However, some had dark brown staining on the sides. The whole pile smelt far too much like iron for just a few needles.
Constantine was right about the Beldam not giving up so easily. But with her hand destroyed, it won't be much longer till she's wither away to nothing. All Bruce has to do is be patient. Still, it won't hurt to give this to Constantine and see if it can help any with finding a way to save those kids' souls, or if they're really trapped forever. Bruce typed out a message to Alfred to collect the sample, while Bruce went to your room to finally have his night of looking after you.
Hello! Everyone! It's been a while. Sorry for the wait.
I realize that I have trouble writing ends. This is the third fic where the ending took a while to come out.
ANYWAYS! HOPE CRAP! The end is here!
I hope you all enjoyed this story. I know I had a lot fun writing it.
I still do plan at some point to put a ramble out that examples everyone relationship with the main character and my general thoughts for a hypothetical sequel, because I don't have time to write an actual one. I have another fic I must write for another fandom, so who knows how long till that ramble comes out.
But thank you again for reading my fic and everyone who showed their support! It means the world to me!
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