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Main Masterpost

Yandere Batfam/Dc masterpost

Prompts Yandere Batfam with willing duckling reader Yandere batfamily with a young batsis who doesn’t mind not leaving the house, and like

Long posts Yandere Batfamily x Neglected Reader TW:near death experience, talk of suicide, mentions of past character death, guns, the jok

Yandere Batfam x time looping reader OK, I was in a boring lecture with my classes, and my brain came up with an idea. Everyone knows th

Yandere MHA masterpost

Yandere Class 1-A x Reader x Yandere Class 1-B OK, I know I’m more well known for my Batfam stories but I was struck by a thought Yandere

Yandere OCs masterpost

Yandere Royals Darrow grew up as a merchant’s and princess’s son. His mother fought long and hard to marry his father, and he knew many nob

Misc. Masterpost

Yandere Magic DDLC I take long breaks, but I don’t abandon my stories. Yandere ASTV x Reader Okay, I’m still working on all of my bat fam

Crossover Masterpost

💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Yandere Crossovers · Yan!Batfam x neglected!demigod!reader x yan!pjo 💬 8 🔁 25 ❤️ 522 · PLEASE PLEASE I beg of you do bat

Request Masterpost

Batfam/DC Batfam accidentally hurting reader (I’m going to assume these two asks are together. ) OK, so the only way I can see them getti

Completed series Masterpost

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader TW:near death experience, talk of suicide, mentions of past character death, guns, the joker, Bruce had

#yandere masterlist #masterposts #masterpost #yandere

fadedmidnight

With the Yan!batfam, how would they react to a reader who likes henna/bodypaint/stuff like that? That is definitely an activity. I can see them doing On the siblings, and I feel like it would be something that they would all. Like, you draw a little flower on Dick’s arm only to find out that he got it tattooed to preserve it

TOTALLYYY AAAAHHH!!!

They probably would sit in line in front of you, waiting for you to draw something on a part of their body. They don't even care what you draw on them, all they care about is that it's you who did it.

The getting them tattooed part probably feels like when a proud family hangs a drawing a child made to the fridge. They will NOT remove it, no matter what. They wil show it to other people too. Tim would walk around at university showing everyone he meets that his 'dear little sibling' is so creative.

Bruce would ask you to draw in a place where is not visible to the public because he can't risk you getting exposed and potentially getting discovered by the public that the person that went missing a few months ago is actually held captive with a billionaire. He can't risk getting you taken away.

jellyfishmoon97

I unfortunately don’t have the talent to write and create stories but I do have ideas. So for all the lovely authors I propose.

Batfam X Neglected Reader ( Squid Games)

Readers mom was engaged or married to Bruce, but one day runs away with a good amount of money with another man and leaves reader behind.

The whole family feels the betrayal and the hatred is directed to reader.

After years of neglect and emotional abuse reader turns 18 maybe they’re kicked out or leave.

Bruce offers no financial support.

The Court of Owls the elite of Gotham run their own version of Squid Games. Wanting entertainment theirs no shortage of people who need money in Gotham.

The Bats have heard rumors of the game’s. Needing evidence Bruce or/& Tim are able to infiltrate and get invited to watch the games. Imagine the horror of seeing readers being one of the players. Oracle is able to hack into the feed and now the Bats are trying to find the location where the games are being held. They have to watch their forgotten family member try to survive.

Maybe readers reason for joining the games is because they’re in debt or have a kid in the hospital that needs urgent surgery soon. They go to Bruce for help asking for money but they’re turned away, told they’re just like their mother.

not-weirdoshrek

Since I didn't see a full fic about it I am taking it in my own hands >:) Taking some inspo from how mouthwashing (the game) says its story (going back and forth so peices slowly come together rather than being a straight line) Hope you like it!

Money Money Money

This might have a part two... depends on how much time I have on myself.

next>

Warnings: Blood, Death, Spoilers (games based off of S2 of squid game and overall squid game spoilers), Neglect of a child. Guns.

You wake up to alarms as a shadow of a large figure with a yellow Bat on its chest. Batman. or better known your father. Bruce Wayne. He walks up to you the screen behind him showing the number of players left "1". Your blood runs cold You...won? You look at the bed of the other guy seeing him dead a knife at his throat. Right. He came for his wife and a few minutes ago news came that she died. A pathetic way to win. After all you can just never get glory. Your eyes land on Batman's. Red robin, Nightwing and Red hood not far behind looking around the room and checking it. Orphan and signal can be heard in the comms as they search the guards quarters with Spoiler and Oracle not far behind. Bruce's cold eyes looks down at you a shaky breathe leaves his lips keeping it slightly parted as he realized that I was safe. I was safe. I was safe. I was safe... "Why did you come here?" His voice was cold yet a hit of care can be heard if you listen closely. You wanted to laugh at how concerned he looked. Almost like he finally realized he has a daughter. "You left me with no money and no way to survive." You replied. Voice harsh. The same harshness that used to be used towards you while you were a kid from those you call family. "You could have called I would have lend you money!" Bruce raised his voice his eyes widened ever so slightly almost like he was scared he came to late. "You never answered." So many things in your head yet none come out. "You are coming home with me. Now. Oracle get all the information about this place and the people that run it. Fast. Nightwing go with (y/n). Take her back to manor." "Batman. I don't need your help." Your voice came out stiff yet your goal was the same as it was for all these years. To be heard for once. "This isn't help. I am bringing my daughter back to where she is supposed to be. And you aren't leaving the manor for a long while. Until I figure out that you are safe." "Now you remember I am your daughter? right...If I was missing then the Wayne name will be tarnished. That is why you are here." "No you got it wrong-" "Save it. You left me in the dirt while you walk in silk. Don't you dare act like you deserve the right to be like my family when only Alfred took care of me." "Sis, calm down lets go back home." "Stay out of this Nightwing. I don't need your help. Ever since that day... I was treated nothing more than a dusty picture in a frame. I was thrown away by you all. The people that the media calls my family." "(n/n) come home with us please. We realized our mistakes we want to start new." Jason's voice cut through. Soon the lights came back knowing time was running out and the fact that they didn't want me to die in a place where they won't ever see me again. They did their last ditch effort to take me back to where it's 'safe' or safe to them. "Tim, blue pineapple." Damian called out with Tim giving a slight nod before you felt a sharp pain on your neck.... A syringe. You looked at Tim who was behind you as everything faded to black.... You wanted to go home. Its cold. It hurts. Will you ever find your mother again?

drafts-and-delusions

Can you maybe do a part two of the yandere Saja boy series I lauv the way u wrote them!!

Saja Boys as yanderes pt. 2 💘 Part 1

Tags: gn!reader, yandere, dark romance, possessive behavior, psychological manipulation, obsessive love, unhealthy relationships, stalking

🎀 Masterlist 💄 Request Guidelines

Jinu

You notice the app at the end of the week. It’s tucked between your utilities and photo editor, under a name that doesn’t catch your attention at first. When you tap it, the screen lights up with a timeline. Everywhere you’ve been in the past three days. Time stamps. Duration. How long you spent inside each building. Even the stops that felt forgettable—marked and measured.

You just stare for a while, thumb hovering over the delete button.

But something keeps you from tapping it.

You think about the way Jinu held you that night. The way his voice dropped, low and raw, like it cost him something to say it out loud. You’re mine.

You’re not scared of him. Not exactly.

But your stomach twists a little when you walk into the kitchen and he greets you with a soft, “You made it back fast.”

You hadn’t told him you were leaving.

Still, he presses a warm mug into your hands like it’s routine. Kisses the top of your head like always. You try to shake it off; you’ve seen people ruin good things by overthinking. And Jinu—he’s not like that. He loves you. That much has always been clear.

He just... worries.

That night, he offers to brush your hair while you sit between his legs on the couch. His fingers move gently, almost rhythmically, and after a while, you relax into him. He hums something unfamiliar under his breath. It’s quiet; a little haunting. Almost like a lullaby you half remember.

“I don’t want to ever lose you,” he says.

You tilt your head up. “You won’t.”

He smiles, but there’s something tight in it. Something that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s why I do what I do. To protect what’s mine.”

You want to ask what he means. But you don’t.

Later, while you sleep, your phone lights up on the nightstand. The app refreshes. Quietly. Automatically. A message flashes across the screen:

Location tracking active. Alerts enabled.Unusual movement: 0. Distance from home: 0.

Jinu turns his head. Watches your face like he’s reading a story he already knows by heart.

He doesn’t reach for the phone. He doesn’t have to. He already knows everything he needs. Instead, he adjusts the blanket around your shoulders, pulls it up to your chin, and presses a slow kiss to your temple.

Romance

You start to notice it in little ways.

Your favorite café switches owners. The barista who used to give you free extra syrup is suddenly gone. You open your phone to message someone about it—only to realize the app’s not there anymore. You could’ve sworn you didn’t delete it. Maybe it vanished during one of those late-night system updates Romance swore would “make your phone run better.”

He starts showing up more often. Not in an obvious, clingy way; he’s smooth about it. Always just happening to be where you are. Waiting outside your building with your favorite snacks. Running into you mid-errand like it’s a coincidence. Texting you things like, “You looked really cute in that sweater today,” even though you never posted a photo.

You ask him how he knew. He just smiles.

“I pay attention,” he says. “Other people don’t. I do.”

He buys you a necklace with a little charm on it. It’s subtle; tasteful. You thank him and wear it without thinking much. Until one night, when he leans in close and says, “I like knowing you have a piece of me on you. Even when I’m not there.”

Your stomach tightens.

But it’s sweet. Right? It’s sweet.

He notices your silence and adds, almost sheepishly, “I just love you a lot. Is that scary?”

You shake your head. Because what else are you supposed to say?

Then one evening, you find a folder on his desk. It’s thick, like it’s been added to over time. Inside, it’s filled with photos. Of you. Some you’ve seen—Instagram posts, photos you’ve sent him, vacation selfies. But some you haven’t.

You in the grocery store. You walking home. You through your apartment window. You sleeping.

You flip through them, your hands colder with every page. Your heart races.

You confront him, voice tight.

He looks confused, then hurt.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, like that’s the part that matters. “I just… I like keeping track of you. So I know you’re safe.”

When you don’t respond, he steps forward. Wraps his arms around you like he’s scared you’ll disappear. You feel him exhale against your neck—long and slow, like being near you calms something inside him that no one else can reach.

“I’m not like them,” he whispers. “I won’t leave. I won’t hurt you. I’ll always be here.”

Abby

You forget the last time you picked out your own meals. The last time you stayed up late without him gently tugging you to bed, his voice soft but firm, the kind that didn’t leave much room for argument. Your phone buzzes less and less. Abby keeps it charged for you now. Updates your calendar. Takes your calls when you’re “too overwhelmed.”

“It’s easier this way,” he says one night, setting your phone on the table, screen dim. “You’ve got so much on your mind already.”

You nod, because you do. And he’s right. He always is. It’s strange how comforting that becomes—how easily he seems to know what you need, even before you do.

He cooks. He cleans. He restocks your shampoo before you realize it’s low. But the more decisions he makes, the fewer you do. And it starts to add up. Quietly. Almost invisibly. Until one day you suggest something small—changing the show on the TV—and he gives you a look. Not upset. Just disappointed.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

You nod without thinking.

He smiles, brushes your hair back like nothing happened. “That’s all I need.”

Eventually, he stops asking to hold your hand in public. He just does it—intertwines your fingers like it’s second nature. Like it’s how things have always been.

When you cry, he holds you with both arms like you might float away. He lets you fall apart against him and hums something low and steady until the shaking stops. His hands are always steady. They never tremble.

One night, when the house is quiet and your thoughts aren’t, you try to call someone. You don’t even know who. You just want to talk. But there’s no signal. And when you check your contacts, the list is empty.

You find Abby in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. He looks up with a smile like he’s been waiting.

“You needed me,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I’m here.”

His voice never rises. His grip is never rough. But the more you try to pull away—just a little, just enough to breathe—the tighter his hands hold. The longer he lingers.

“You don’t have to think anymore,” he says, resting his forehead against yours. “Just stay with me. I’ll handle everything.”

And you believe him.

Because when everything else feels like it’s slipping, he’s the one thing that doesn’t move. The only thing that makes sense.

He cups your face like you’re delicate; kisses your temple like it’s a vow. His voice stays low and sure, always warm, always calm.

“You’re mine,” he whispers. “You were always going to be mine.”

Mystery

You didn’t know he was following you.

Not at first.

It started small. An umbrella leaning by the door before the rain started. Your favorite drink was waiting on the counter after a passing comment the day before. A missing key was placed beside your phone, like it had never been gone in the first place.

You tried to be logical. Maybe you were just forgetful. Maybe it was a coincidence.

But sometimes, coincidence feels too exact.

Sometimes, you’d catch movement out of the corner of your eye—a figure standing across the street, someone leaning on a wall at the edge of the train platform. Always far enough not to be certain; always gone by the time you looked again.

He never said anything. Not then.

One night, past midnight, you heard the door click shut. No footsteps. No voices. Just the soft sound of something being locked into place. You stayed still under the blanket, heart pounding, counting the seconds in the silence.

When you finally got up, the door was locked. The lights were off. Everything was in place.

Except your charger, which had been plugged in and looped neatly on your side of the bed—no longer tugged too short to use while lying down.

You didn’t ask questions. Not out loud.

But in the dark, you whispered, “Are you here?”

No answer.

You went back to bed anyway.

The next morning, there was a folded note in your coat pocket.

Don’t be scared. I would never let anything hurt you.

The handwriting was neat. Deliberate. Familiar in a way that made your stomach turn.

You should’ve called someone. Changed the locks. Packed a bag.

But that night, the room felt colder than usual. Heavier. And when the window closed on its own, you didn’t move. When the mattress dipped behind you, you kept your eyes shut and pretended not to notice the shift of weight.

Mystery never forces you to stay.

He never says a word.

But he’s there; in every shadow, in every locked door, in the way your life fits just a little too neatly into place. You never hear him arrive, never catch him leaving. But you feel him—the pressure in the air, the corners of the mirror that seem darker than they should be, the slow hum of cameras that don’t belong to you.

He’s always watching.

Not to punish. Not to hurt.

But to protect what’s his.

And even if you did run, even if you locked every door and turned off every light, he’d still be there.

Baby

He doesn’t let go for a while. His grip is warm; comforting, even. But something about it makes your skin prickle. It’s like being held a little too carefully, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold on just right.

Later that night, you find your old phone in the drawer of your bedside table, powered off and tucked inside a sock you don’t remember losing. The screen lights up when you press the button, but it’s clean. Wiped. No messages, no photos, no history. Just a blank slate.

You stare at it for a long time before quietly setting it down.

Baby walks in not long after. He doesn’t say anything at first; just drops beside you, legs stretched out and head resting against your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I made dinner,” he says eventually. “Your favorite. The one you said reminded you of home.”

You nod. “Thanks.”

His fingers skim your wrist, gentle. “You seemed a little off earlier.”

“I’m just tired.”

He hums. “Then rest. I can handle things. Whatever you need, I’ll take care of it.”

You don’t say anything.

He smiles at you again, slower this time. Like he knows you won’t argue.

That night, he tucks you in. Kisses your forehead and tells you to sleep well. But he doesn’t leave.

You wake up sometime past midnight and find him sitting at the edge of the bed, still fully dressed, just watching you.

“I had a nightmare,” he says when your eyes meet. “That you left me.”

You blink, unsure how to respond.

He climbs under the covers, wraps himself around you like it’s instinct. His arms slip around your waist, holding you close, holding you still.

“I don’t want to be without you,” he whispers into your hair. “Ever. So please don’t give me a reason to make sure I never have to be.”

His voice is soft. Still sweet.

But your chest doesn’t tighten the way it usually does.

maltes3

Yandere!RichBoyfriend x Loser!Reader

You are, by all societal metrics, an absolute degenerate. You haven't touched grass in months, your sleep schedule is entirely dictated by tournament brackets, and your primary source of dopamine is starting flame wars in the comment sections of competitive gaming forums. You spend twenty hours a day in a dim room, surrounded by empty energy drink cans, aggressively typing slurs at teenagers online. You are a certified, unwashed loser, and your gorgeous, multi-millionaire Yandere!RichBoyfriend thinks you are the most precious thing to ever walk the earth.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend is a highly successful corporate executive who dresses in tailored suits and conducts high-level board meetings, yet his phone is constantly buzzing with notifications from your stream or your social media rants. Yandere!RichBoyfriend doesn’t just tolerate your online toxicity; he finds it incredibly endearing. While he’s sitting in a glass high-rise negotiating business mergers, he’ll casually scroll through your latest 40-tweet manifesto where you’re cyberbullying a random streamer over a video game patch, a soft, doting smile appearing on his face. "Look at them go," he’ll think proudly. "So passionate."

Yandere!RichBoyfriend completely funds your pathetic lifestyle, and he does it with an intense, possessive joy. He treats your bank account like a bottomless pit for bad decisions. If you mention offhand that you want a rare $5,000 legacy skin for an obscure first-person shooter, the money is transferred to your digital wallet within 30 seconds. You’ll be mid-match, screaming into your headset, and a notification will pop up: Account Credited by your Yandere!RichBoyfriend. He doesn't care if you're wasting his wealth on literal pixels; he loves knowing that every ounce of entertainment you experience is entirely branded by his wallet.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend thrives on the fact that your lifestyle makes you completely dependent on him. He wants you to be an unmarketable, anti-social hermit because it means no one else will ever see your value or try to take you away from him. If you ever have a rare moment of clarity, looking at your messy room and muttering that maybe you should get a part-time job or go back to school, he will instantly shut it down with overwhelming, suffocating luxury. He’ll crawl into your gaming chair, pull you into his lap, and kiss your forehead. "Why would you ever do that, sweetheart? The outside world is exhausting and cruel. Stay right here. Buy your skins. Let me take care of the bills. You belong in this room with me."

Yandere!RichBoyfriend handles your terrible hygiene and health habits with a doting, overbearing discipline. Left to your own devices, you would survive entirely on instant ramen and stale chips. He compensates by hiring a private chef to drop off gourmet, nutrient-dense meals at your desk, forcing you to eat them while he sits on the edge of your bed watching you. If you haven't showered in three days because of a competitive grind, he won't be disgusted. Instead, he will literally carry you out of your gaming chair, run a warm bath, and wash your hair himself, turning your lazy neglect into an opportunity to handle you like a fragile doll.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend is your silent partner-in-crime when it comes to your online feuds. If a group of internet trolls starts ganging up on you and doxxing your account, they don't realize they've just signed their own corporate death warrants. Your boyfriend won't just report them; he will hire private data analysts to track down their real identities. By the next morning, the people who were bullying you online will find themselves fired from their jobs, kicked out of their universities, or facing sudden, mysterious lawsuits. He will hand you his tablet while you're waking up, showing you the data. "Look, love. The people who stressed you out yesterday no longer have internet access. You can play your games in peace now."

The true extent of his madness is that Yandere!RichBoyfriend has designed your entire environment to keep you a permanent, pampered prisoner. He loves that you are too socially anxious and lazy to leave the apartment. He has effectively built a high-tech, luxury fortress around your degeneracy. You are a toxic, screen-addicted loser to the rest of the world, but to him, you are a perfectly captured creature trapped in a digital terrarium, and he will gladly spend millions of dollars keeping you greasy, comfortable, and entirely his until the end of time.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend has a literal, calendar-tracked intervention system for your clothing. Left to your own devices, you would comfortably live, sleep, and sweat in the exact same oversized, food-stained grey anime hoodie for six weeks straight. He draws the line at biological warfare. He’ll walk into your dark gaming cave, pinch the hood between two fingers with a deeply amused but firm look, and pull you out of your chair. "Sweetheart, we’ve crossed the thirty-day mark. This hoodie can practically stand up on its own. It’s going in the incinerator." You’ll whine and fight him for it, but he’ll already have a plush, $1,200 designer replacement waiting on your bed pre-washed with his personal signature cologne so you smell exactly like him the second you put it on.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend treats your disgusting desk setup like a toxic waste site that he is privileged to clean. While you’re fast asleep at 7:00 AM after a grueling 14-hour ranked session, he’ll quietly slip into your room in his pristine Tom Ford suit before heading to the office. He’ll methodically collect the mountain of empty energy drink cans, the crusty delivery boxes, and the crumpled chip bags, wiping down your custom mechanical keyboard with specialized tech-wipes. He doesn’t find it gross; he honestly finds it deeply comforting. The messier your desk is, the more it proves you haven't left the room, and that makes his possessive heart soar.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend has a massive, hilarious double standard when it comes to toxic behavior. If you tell someone on Twitter to delete their account and jump off a bridge over a bad movie take, he thinks you're a comedic genius and will literally bookmark the tweet to show his executive buddies as "peak modern satire." But if a random user replies to you, calling you "clueless" or "lazy," his entire corporate demeanor drops into pure malice. He will literally use his company's legal department to issue cease-and-desist letters for "digital harassment" to random teenagers across the country just to protect your right to be a menace in peace.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend handles your absolute lack of a sleep schedule by forcefully adapting his own. He knows you won't log off until the server resets at 4:00 AM, so he’ll bring his work laptop into your room, sitting on your bed under the dim glow of your RGB strip lights, quietly approving multi-million dollar corporate budgets while listening to you scream at your teammates through your headset. The second your match ends and you let out an exhausted groan, he’s already behind you, massaging your tense, hunched-over shoulders. "Good job tonight, love. You carried. Now, bed. I have a board meeting in three hours and I need to cuddle my favorite loser."

Yandere!RichBoyfriend weaponizes your laziness to ensure you never have a reason to interact with another human being in the physical world. If your PC mouse starts clicking weirdly, you don't even have to look up a replacement. By the time you wake up the next afternoon, three different top-of-the-line gaming mice will be neatly unboxed on your desk. You don't have to talk to the delivery guy, you don't have to run errands, and you don't have to look at the sun. Yandere!RichBoyfriend has streamlined your entire existence into a seamless pipeline of digital instant gratification, completely cutting off any survival instinct that might force you to step outside.

Yandere!RichBoyfriend has a habit of "buying out" entire gaming servers or lobbies if he thinks they're making you too stressed. If you’re throwing a massive, keyboard-slamming tantrum because a specific multiplayer game is riddled with cheaters or has terrible queue times, he won't tell you to play something else. Instead, he’ll make a few phone calls, buy a massive block of shares in the indie dev studio, and force them to fast-track a private, dedicated server just for your IP address. He’ll walk into your room and slide a glass of iced coffee onto your desk, kissing your cheek. "There you go, sweetheart. I bought the devs. The netcode should be fixed now. Go break some hearts."

The ultimate reality of your dynamic is that Yandere!RichBoyfriend has successfully turned your self-destructive habits into his perfect trap. To the rest of the world, you are a shut-in, anti-social internet troll with zero life skills. But to him, your complete lack of functionality is a masterpiece. Yandere!RichBoyfriend loves that you can’t cook, refuses to clean, and doesn't know how to pay taxes because it means you can never leave him. You are his highly expensive, deeply toxic, pampered little house pet, safely locked away in a golden cage built of fiber-optic cables and designer sweatpants, and Yandere!RichBoyfriend wouldn't trade your greasy, chaotic self for anyone else in the world.

yandereforme

Yandere Batfam x Reborn! Neglected! Reader

Day 0: Life 1

TW: grooming, death (not in great detail but characters die), angst

yandereforme

Day 1: Life 2

TW: Throwing up (Emetophobia)

yandereforme

Day 5: Life 2

TW: PTSD (two separate incidents), non graphic character death, descriptions of shock, non graphic violence

yandereforme

Day 5&6, Life 2

TW: mentions of derealization and dissociation, descriptions of dead bodies (brief), Nightmares

#yandere #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x neglected reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere batfam x neglected time travel reader #batfamily x neglected reader #neglected reader

seleneprince

Obsessed with the idea of Bruce's neglected daughter and wife (of convenience whom he has a love/hate relationship) being the ones in charge of handling the public image and reputation of the Waynes because, since they're the "civilian" ones, they're the ones who go to all the galas and events to represent the Wayne name and so they've learn every trick on the book on how to navigate high society.

So when for whatever reason the times comes and the rest of the batfam are forced to drop their masks for once and attend these events because "you have to remind people you're Waynes too", they have no option but stick to the civilians of the family because they're mostly clueless and don't want to embarrass themselves.

Bruce has a tad bit more experience, but he's ditched so many of these over the years that at some point he's lost some touch and has to let his wife do the socialising for him (not like he minds, gives him the excuse to dissociate and maybe appreciate how hot she looks a little). Everyone else tho? They need to be monitored and move in groups to minimise the chances of disaster.

Like, back then when Bruce "died" and the whole family scrambled to do damage control, one of the things they had to take care of was the Wayne's reputation. To protect Bruce's image and ensure the public didn't suspect much, and that meant going to galas to remember everyone they were his children and reassure them that everything was under control.

vxnillabxn

hi!!! i absolute love your work, its really a comfort place for me! ive been thinking about doing a headcanon request for some time now, and now i feel is my chance!

i was thinking about the lis being like, soft yanderes with a somewhat depressed reader- they decide to take matters into their own hands and take their sweetheart away from their troublered life! a safe house, of something like that cattered to their every whim. i was thinking of a more pinky, softie reader, any gender alike. i know you mostly do sfw, so if thats easier for you it doesnt have to be nsfw!

im very grateful for the content you curate for us! take care!

𐙚˙⋆.˚ soft yandere mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ hurt/comfort! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ nsfw, minors dni! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ tw ꩜ possessive, controlling, toxic and obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚I'M ALIVE! and yES, OMG, YEEEEEES, i love soft yanderes, i love requests like this, yes gawd ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ !! knowing that my blog is someone's comfort place makes me so, so happy. i'll keep doing my very best, i pinky promise! ♡ also, i think i got carried away explaining the... before-they-take-reader-away part (? but it is because i looooooove explaining what i think their point of view would be! (and the LI's and reader are in a situationship, no relationship established yet!) hope that's okay, anonnie (๑•́ ᎔ ก̀๑)

diamonrot

I’m jealous of MC! (Rafayel's Version)

Hello Everyone! Hopefully you enjoy!

Even after being LADS LIs' partner, you can't help, but be jealous of MC. How would the LIs react.

Tags: Rafayel x Lemurian, Retainer F!Reader, Canon Divergent, Angst/Comfort, Jealousy, Insecurity, Self-Deprecating Self-Talk, Injury, Depression, Stalking, Suggestive.

Please leave feedback or suggestions in comments and/or replies!

Other Versions: Sylus / Xavier / Zayne / Caleb

bloodabi

i know caleb would love having a chronically ill s/o. one that he can keep in his house all the time and dote on. caleb loves to feel needed. he needs to care for you in every way. he needs you to rely on him. if you're stuck in bed then you have no choice but to allow him to care for you.

and he'd be so sweet too. you'd have your every need met. he always picks up your medications and keeps them right at your bedside. heating pads, ice packs, mobility and pain aids are always available and close by. you don't have to lift a finger in caleb's house. he cooks you all your favorite meals and makes sure they're full of all the nutrients you need to have you feeling your best. he loves caring for you. you're never a bother to him.

that being said, he treats you like you're made out of glass. you don't get to do anything by yourself. leaving the house is something you have to do with caleb, but he doesn't have lots of time outside of work, which means you're stuck in the house all day. this lack of interaction with the outside world can make caleb's care feel... suffocating.

the thing is, he's just so lovely you can't help but feel bad for the thoughts you have. you know caleb is doing all he can to keep you safe and comfortable. he puts in so much effort into making sure you feel well and have your needs met.

caleb knows what he's doing. he knows the power dynamic here. he loves it. he has you all to himself and completely reliant on him, and you have no choice but to give in. you even feel guilty for having any desire to be away from him. he has things exactly how he's always wanted.

vxnillabxn

Hii it's me again☺️ (I have sended you an ask while your request were closed because I was afraid of forgetting the idea).

I have been wondering to myself what would be the LI's (but soft yanderes) would react to the MC being completely obssesed over them. Like they are doing their yandere stuff and trying to figure it out how to take her to the home they build for her and MC found out their plan just to turn to them and:

MC: Why were you trying to lure me🤨? You could just have asked silly!😍🥰

LI: 🤡... Okay them😃❤️!

So this basically them being a red flag (Due to the yandere stuff) and MC being colorblind because she is as obssesed as they are over her.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ yandere mainfive! x gn!reader ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ tw ꩜ possessive and obsessive behavior! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ sfw! ꒰੭

𐙚˙⋆.˚ do not translate/copy/repost! ꒰੭

﹙♡﹚i'm afraid i wouldn't exactly oppose if they were to take me away from everything and everyone ꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ loved, loved, loved this request! thank you so much, baby ♡

snoozer-crow

🍎 caleb remembers your birthday 🎂

gn, nonmc, lonely, touch-starved reader + stalker caleb (borderline yandere?) wc: 700

You spend the day before your birthday focused on being productive, fully expecting to spend it all alone again. Exhausted from maintaining focus for so long, you fall asleep by accident, earlier than usual.

You wake, half asleep and confused, to the sensation of the mattress shifting beneath you. It smells faintly of apples? And you don't remember turning the lights off. You let out a soft noise of confusion, and you hear a vaguely familiar voice gently shush you in return, leading you to turn to face the sound. You don't feel as scared as you probably should.

You look up with bleary eyes, finding your relatively new friend Caleb climbing into bed beside you. You do have a crush on him, yes, but you've only known him for a couple of months. Why is he here...?

"Caleb? What...?" You try to sit up, but a gentle flex of his Evol keeps you in place as he settles in, his purple eyes gazing into your own with a stare so intense it felt like he could see straight through to your skeleton.

"Shh, hey, no need for that. I didn't mean to wake you." He shifts a bit closer. You can feel his breath on your face as it leaves behind a faint scent of mint. He cups your face in his palm, moving slowly to give you a chance to pull away if you're frightened. You don't. His hand is warm and soft against your cheek, and you find yourself leaning into it.

"I was plannin' on surprisin' you, since you're usually up pretty late. I figured I could be the first one to wish you a happy birthday." His voice is steady and calm as he explains, almost making it seem as if what he's doing is completely normal. You've never told him your birthday. "But you're all tuckered out, huh? Y'know, I brought your favorite snacks and everything." You've never told him your favorite snacks. "I guess I still am the first one to wish you happy birthday, though, huh? It's past midnight."

Alarm bells should be going off in your head, and yet you don't pull away from his touch. He's always incredibly friendly and kind to you. What reason could you have to distrust his intentions? You find yourself nodding dumbly along with his words, earning you a chuckle from his soft lips.

"But why...?"

"You deserve to have a happy birthday, honey. Were you really gonna have one if you were all alone?" His eyes look kinder, gentler than before.

You hesitate for a few moments, but unable to come up with a rebuttal, you just shake your head no. Caleb hums, snaking his hand from your cheek around to gently caress the back of your neck. He's never touched you like this before, and it feels nice.

"Do you really want me to leave?" He whispers, leaning a bit closer. You shake your head immediately this time. He smiles a bit wider than before as he begins to lightly scratch at your scalp, testing the waters.

"Then c'mere, yeah? Let me hold you." You melt into him as he carefully pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you and guiding you to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. His body is pleasantly warm against your own, and you can hear his unhurried, calm heartbeat thumping in his chest.

He starts to rub your back in slow, steady circles, dissolving away whatever tension was left in your body as you go boneless in his grasp. You feel more content now than you have in a long, long time, maybe even years.

"If this is a dream, I don't wanna wake up," you mumble, your voice losing its coherency as you begin to drift off. But Caleb understands you nonetheless.

"You're not dreamin'. And to prove it to you, I'll still be right here when you wake up, alright?" You nod sleepily, not quite fully comprehending what he means, but still knowing he's speaking sincerely.

"G'night, 'leb," you yawn before your eyes fully droop closed, sleep following soon after.

"Good night, honey. Happy birthday. I promise you'll never spend it alone ever again."

syncaleb

-> soft yandere caleb hcs:

1. “you’re mine. you said so.” you get busy—miss a call, forget a text—and when you finally answer, his voice is calm, too calm. “i waited. for hours.” you apologize, sweetly, teasingly even, but he doesn’t laugh. “you promised you’d always be there, remember? don’t break your promises. i… don’t handle that well.” and later, when he holds you close, you feel the way his hands tremble slightly against your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

2. his name in your phone has a lock emoji. -> he changed it himself. he also disabled the option to delete his contact. “just in case someone thinks they can slide into your messages,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “they’ll know who you belong to.”

3. he tracks you. -> not in a creepy way (okay maybe a little), but he has your location always. and when he sees you’re somewhere unexpected, he texts immediately: “what are you doing there?” ……you ask how he knew. “because you’re mine pipsqueak, and i need to know you’re safe. that’s not too much to ask, is it?” and the look in his eyes? he’d burn the whole galaxy just to get you back home.

4. he doesn’t like you being friends with your ex-> at all. he doesn’t raise his voice. doesn’t tell you not to. he just shuts down emotionally, turns icy and unreadable. it’s bound with his actions though… he would probably still do everything acts of service wise. but he wants you to understand something is wrong, wants you to probe… and when you confront him, he finally murmurs, “i don’t want to be second choice to anyone. i want to be your only. and if that’s too much—” you cut him off with a kiss. you have to. because his voice was starting to sound a little unhinged and a little too honest.

5. he locks the door when you argue.-> not to trap you essentially (which he thinks he isn’t doing…) just to make sure you don’t leave. “we’re not going to sleep angry pips,” he says, softly. “you don’t walk away from me. not when we love each other this much baby.” and when you calm down, he pulls you into his lap, arms like iron around you, and whispers again and again, “mine. mine. mine.”

6. he doesn’t like you dressing up for anyone but him.-> you put on a new outfit, stunning, radiant—and his jaw clenches. why are you so breath-taking my gorgeous he thinks… no wonder he wants a world with just the two of you. “who’s that for?” / “me,” you say, innocent. but he steps closer, cups your jaw gently, possessively. “next time, wear it only when we’re alone. i don’t want anyone else seeing what’s mine. or~ you’d hate how i become and say something like i killed your old caleb.”

7. his anger is unpredictable.->when someone flirts with you in front of him, he doesn’t start a fight. but sometimes the look in his eyes speaks more than words ever could. maybe he will break their bones when you leave, maybe he will let it slide. who knows what caleb’s mood dictates him to do. sometimes, he just smiles. and later, when you’re home, he pins you softly to the bed, hands on either side of your head.“do you want them?” he asks, voice flat. “because i can make sure they never speak to you again.” and you— you tell him it’s just him. it’s always been him. like a prayer, like a chanting to balm his rage. and he finally kisses you like a starved man, whispering “good girl.”

8. he deletes numbers from your phone.->you’ll never notice. he’s too smooth. but people you used to talk to? stop replying. and when you ask caleb, he just shrugs with a soft smirk, “maybe they realized they could never compete with me.” and then changes the subject with a kiss and that dangerous look in his eyes again…. this isn’t out of sheer possessiveness though its just out of trust issues.

9. he doesn’t like letting you sleep mad at him.-> you try to turn away in bed, still upset. away from him… back on his face like an iron wall. but he slides his arms around you from behind, strong and unyielding.“no. you don’t get to walk away from me in your sleep, either.” and you can feel how serious he is. “we fix this now, angel. i’ll do anything. but you don’t leave.”

10. he has nightmares about losing you.-> he never tells you the full details either. just that he wakes up shaking, pale, and pulls you into his lap, holding you so tightly it almost hurts. “i saw you leaving me,” he whispers into your neck. “don’t ever do that. i wouldn’t survive it.”

eveningcherryblossoms

Thinking about a neglectful reader... Hmm, no, that's kinda harsh. Let's just say a ✨forgetful✨ reader.

Reader who so easily forgets people's faces and names. When summer vacation ends they'll go back to school and not remember the names of their own classmates unless reader's regularly interacted with them through the vacation. Like practically their whole conversation that first day back to school is like this:

Reader's Classmate: Reader, hi! How was your vacation?

Reader: Oh hi! 😊 (a suspiciously cheerful smile in place of the classmate's name) Mine was nice. How about yours?

RC: Niceee. ...you forgot my name again, didn't you.

Reader, humbly: My bad 🤞😔

caffieneaddictt18

there are a bunch of fics of reader getting kidnapped and her not liking it and whatnot and i have not seen a single one where she does! and I think I’d much prefer if the 141 took me from my home and made me stay in their cabin in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and we all loved each other! i’m just saying-

Johnny spots you first. You were just heading down to the farmer's market on a Saturday morning when he spotted you. The normal stalls of fresh fruit and vegetables had their big signs, but you were attracted to the stalls that were selling jewelry and little trinkets. Crystals and the like.

He followed at a reasonable distance. Not reasonable at all to him, given how he wanted to have you wrapped in his arms and guided home to the rest. Johnny was just supposed to go grocery shopping, but as soon as he saw you? He knew the others would too.

After the farmer's market, he followed you home. Just makin sure his bonnie lass gets home safe. You hadn't picked up anything from the farmer's market, so he couldn't bump into you and have an excuse for you both to stop; so he could work his charm on you.

He couldn't risk it though. So he went back to the jewlery stand and found the one thing that caught your eye, and bought it. He would give it to you when the time was right.

He went back home, you dancing through his mind as he rambled to Simon about the pretty lady he saw at the farmer's market.

The next person you caught the eye of was Gaz. He was in the skincare aisles of a store and you breezed past for a thing of moisturizer.

His brown eyes lock on yours as you turn to leave.

"Sorry about that. Just had to grab this." You hold up the moisturizer, your face decorated with green star pimple patches.

"No problem. Acne?"

"No. Just some pimples."

"My sisters liked moisturizers with salicylic acid. Said it helped get rid of their pimples and keep their skin soft." Gaz tries to reach out.

Your eybrows scrunch together and you look at the ingredients. No salicylic acid... "Okay, mystery man. I'll look for salicylic acid in my moisturizers."

Gaz pulls off the moisturizer off the shelf and hands it to you. "Try this. And I'm Kyle."

"Thanks... Kyle." You take the moisturizer from Kyle and make your way to the cash register.

Later that day, Kyle comes back to the house that the team share.

"Johnny... I understand now."

The next person to see you is Simon. He is enjoying a nice cup of tea as the rain begins to patter against the glass he is sat next to.

The bell for the door dings as you walk in, tucking your umbrella into your body as you approach the cashier. "Hey, Ruby. How's it going?"

"Slow. But interesting. Apparently, the woman down the street is in an open relationship with her husband because they don't want to have to go through the messiness of a divorce." Ruby rings your usual in, spilling the piping hot tea to you.

"And who poured you this tea?"

"Her personal assistant, Mary."

"Ooh, girl~"

"Mhm. Anytime, girl. White mocha with half pumps of mocha sauce, half vanilla with whole milk, hot, right?" Ruby reads your order back to you, just double checking even if she knows the answer.

"You know it."

"It'll be out in a minute. And... sorry to say, but someone stole your spot." Ruby whispers to you before trying to subtly motion to the big hulking man with his tea and scone.

"Ah. It's fine. I'll just make a friend, and if not, then I'll just move to a different table." You whisper back as Ruby walks over to make your coffee.

"Hello," You approach the man carefully, "is it okay if I sit with you?"

The grunt was meant to be 'Of course, please sit with me, pretty bird. I'd lick the coffee off your lips if you asked.' but it just came out as off-putting.

Seemingly off-putting, at least... but you didn't turn away.

"I'm sorry, I'm not quite fluent in grunts yet. Mind a 'yes' or 'no'?" Your sassy retort does nothing to help hide the ever-growing tightness in his cargos.

"Yes... sit."

You smile at his confirmation and sit down, setting your bag down next to you and pulling out a journal with a cute pen.

"White vanilla mocha for sweetums!" Ruby calls out your order and winks before leaving it on the counter and attending to the other drinks in need of her attention.

"Be right back." You give the stranger a small smile before getting up to grab your coffee.

When you come back, Simon is still in the same position. You sit and sip your coffee, staring out the window at the sky before setting your coffee down and starting to journal what you know about the root chakra and how hung gar kung fu has helped you open and reconnect with the chakra.

"You believe in those?" Simon gets a glimpse of your journaling and makes his comment, not having any sense of spirituality or religion.

"I believe they might help. And even if they don't exist, what's the harm in meditation? It's been medically proven to better your mental health, so even if I'm not opening my chakra, I'm helping my mental health, stranger." You give him a small smile and continue journaling your experiences.

"Simon." He mutters, taking a sip of his coffee, looking away from you.

"What?" You look over, confused.

"My name is Simon." He's just gently blushing under the mask, taken by you.

"You have a nice name, Simon." You give yours in return.

He quickly finishes his tea and bolts out the door, jacket in hand and umbrella tucked away in his pockets.

As soon as he gets back to the house, he finds John in his study.

"Price... we need her."

By now, John has heard all of his boys talk about you nonstop.

How your hair look so shiny under the sun. How your skin has cleared up and Kyle sees it from time to time when you go for a walk. The attention to detail you put in with your journaling and that you care about yourself.

So, John, having put together a rough estimate of your routine, plants himself in your way. He shows up at the Saturday market, looking at some produce, when he notices you. He has a semi-clear image and description of you from his men, but seeing you? It is an entirely different story.

He understands now, and as such, he walks over to the trinkets stall, intentionally bumping against you, before turning around, "I am so sorry, love."

"It's alright," You assure him, going back to the crystals arranged on the table.

"Which one is that?"

"You haven't seen obsidian before?" You raise an eyebrow, but hold it up to him. "It's a stone made from volcanos. Sharp as glass, and way more dangerous, because it's a soft stone. It tends to break easy."

"We don't have many volcanos around here, love." John's eyes twinkle in amusement, hands in his pockets.

"Right. Sorry." You apologize quickly, "And I just info-dumped on you about obsidian. I'm so sorry. You're a stranger, and you probably didn't even want to-"

"It was interesting. I appreciate the facts you gave me. And I'm John. John Price." He puts his hand out, like he's going to shake your hand.

You give him your name and your breath stutters to a halt as he takes your hand and brings it up to his lips.

"Lovely to meet you." John gives that cute smile of his and slowly lets your hand down before walking away.

When John arrives back home, he enters like a man on a mission.

"You're right. She's perfect."

And all the rest look at each other with confirming smiles and nods before starting to build out the plan.

You sigh as you approach your car, getting your key out.

Another shitty day with another new boss who doesn't understand the fucking team...

And as you approach your apartment, jamming to music, you don’t notice the black van tailing you... it's respectable distance does not raise any red flags in your mind, not giving you a trigger for your anxiety.

You park your car, grab your things, and get out of the car, locking it after you've closed the door.

What you fail to notice in your exhaustion, is the hulking mass of a man sneaking up behind you...

And you're out like a light.

Author's Cup of Tea: I'll probably continue this later but I've got the hiccups and this has been sitting here for a while...

Edit: Finally edited this and I have a three day weekend, so part two might finally come out.

Edit: PART TWO IS OUT UNDER THE NAME Schrodinger’s Stockholm

Non-Yan! Neglectful!Batfam x Reader x Yan!Batfam

TW: Neglect, mentions of death, extreme yandere behavior, kidnapping

You grew up lonely. There was no other word for it. Your mother was busy constantly, leaving you alone for days. You learned not to complain and just to care for yourself.

You were 8 when your mother died in a car accident, and you spent six months in the system before your father came for you, and you moved into the manor.

#yandere #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x neglected reader

Yan! Batfam x Toddler!Reader

TW:Yandere behavior, minor mentions of violence, mentions of manipulation of the legal system

#yandere #yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily #yandere jason todd #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere barbara gordon #yandere stephanie brown #yandere cassandra cain #yandere duke thomas #yandere alfred pennyworth #yandere bruce wayne

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