serena

❝ I'D LOVE TO BE YOURS IF YOU WISH TO BE MINE ༊ ❞

── ABOUT ME,⠀M.LIST,⠀RULEZ

───── WHAT I WRITE,⠀OTHERZ

._REQS._CLOSED._ASKS._OPEN._

DISCS! i write yandere and nsfw, overall dark stuff. p.s, now i write platonic yanderes. i am currently updating my rules. depending on my current mood, i might just deactivate at any moment.

© - all rights reserved. avoid plagiarism, or copying what i write. some things i wrote may be shitty but i'd prefer if it stays where it is.

and i'm also assigning different types of flowers for each family member. each of it symbolic in the way they treat you, i guess. either way, it's just really sad thinking about it.

— masterlist !

a/n: i'm back to yap about random concepts. anybody missed me?

hear me out... romantic yan batfam being the number one fan of an idol reader and going to great lengths stalking and protecting the city's beloved beacon of light.

imagine the family being hypocrites and despising your parasocial fans while also being the same people who'd fight over, say, a handkerchief you'd accidentally drop to the screaming crowd... all drenched in your sweat. they're the same people who'd touch themselves when an intimate video of you gets leaked online, despite their great effort to keep their hands to themselves.

(looking at tim who manages to steal the handkerchief first who uses it to his... great pleasure. also looking at dick who stumbles across your resurfaced video while on patrol and having to sneak into one of the alleyways to release some tension from down there...)

one of them gives you a cute teddy bear as a gift during a meet and greet, and you're unaware of the fact that it's got a camera in it (too tired to even double check), keeping the stuffed toy for yourself and now it's found a spot on your bed because it's oddly your favorite amongst all fan gifts given to you— so now they watch more personal details of you whenever they're away to patrol and unable to stalk you outside of your private residence.

you know batman keeps a spare screen — or two, or maybe even three, or more —within the batcomputers dedicated to hacking through multiple city CCTV's so either him, or oracle, could watch over you sneaking in public and living your life to the best you can while they do their hero duties in the batcave.

(you know batman also couldn't keep it in one night, sitting in his chair while tracking you sneaking out to buy groceries, finding the sight of you running about warily just pleasurable in his own sick reason — he is just a man, and you're a far greater force reeling him in — who opens a hidden drawer where all photographs and cut out newspaper clippings of you are safely kept in, alongside other items of yours that he'd taken from your possession during the nights where he'd save you, and he'd take one of your scarfs that he'd yet to wash, put it against his nose, take a deep inhale, gloves hands gingerly reaching further and further down until he reaches his utility belt being the only obstacle ceasing him, while his eyes still pointedly stare at the live visual of you walking through the streets play in the batcomputer's large screen and... you know the rest).

but the true drama comes in the form of the others debating over kidnapping you early on or allowing you the illusion of freedom, for now— right after an incident involving some rogues during one of your concerts in gotham had you sustaining injuries; which triggered something primal within them seeing their favorite idol hurt.

(oh, but other than that, let's go back to the cameras, shall we? heaven forbid if you ever strip yourself naked while the makeshift camera's in your bedroom is pointed at you, that's also something they're going to argue over (one of it being if it's ethical keeping photocards of your nude body for personal keeping) in their next meeting).

i want to expound on this concept, and perhaps it gets a little freaky the more i go on, so yay or nay?

(because explain to me why, a series i made for funsies and was intended to have short, bullshit chapters had an exceptional first chapter worth so many words far longer than the first chapter of a&a... i didn't mean to make (y/n) that complex and a direct antithesis to the reader themself (talking about (name wayne) in a&a))

(My guy’s named August which makes the fact that the Batfam can’t remember their birthday even stupider because their name is their birth month)

This Pierrot is a bit more modern with his suspenders so he could somewhat match the Joker’s fancy aesthetic. Joker also gave my boy a slick backed mullet of all things, which may be his gravest sin yet.

He’s also covered in bells because in combination with his soft, quiet shoes and his lack of ability to talk he has accidentally snuck up on the Joker one too many times— it may make it so people notice him but frankly bells ringing in a dark ally in Gotham sounds terrifying, especially once it becomes known that when you hear the bells you know that the Pierrot and the Joker aren’t far.

Do you have any ideas for drawings about again & again, I’ve been looking for more ideas because your fic gave me lots of motivation.

Your fic is amazing btw

— masterlist !

okay, first of all, i absolutely adore your username. my siamese cat's name is casper and i love him a lot so you're not an automatic favorite of mine. second, "joker gave my boy a slicked back mullet of all things, which may be his gravest sin yet." that made me laugh a lot. third, i'd like to thank you for submitting this fanart. i actually fawned over this a lot that i keep forgetting to answer your ask because i was gatekeeping this design. so oh my god i'm eating so well this month 🥹

now, the fact that they're named after a month and bruce and the others still couldn't remember your name fucked me up. it's like being named val and yet the family wouldn't even know your birthday is during valentine's day. but it just makes things even sadder, since they have no excuse forgetting you, you've got such a "generic" name that's not hard to mess up, and yet they did. do you know just how much it sums up just how much they care for you? the answer is a record breaking zero. bruce, as your father, has already gotten an easy assignment and yet he still didn't even think of answering it.

but even the joker remembers, he pokes fun at you for that, but a fucking villain remembers.

your family does not.

i absolutely adore the design for "pierrot"/reader ! in your normal clothes you're already wearing baggy, comfortable clothing (presumably one that hides all your past scars), so kudos to joker for not forcing you to wear revealing such clothes, i guess?

and lore-wise (not revealing much details), your lack of presence really does give an advantage shall you ever entertain the thought of becoming a villain. not much actively look for you, but if they do, they wouldn't realize just how close you actually loom. and if you being dressed in all white, in white face paint, and puffy costume makes you stand out— you think wrong. somehow, you still could disappear into the shadows, with only the echoes of bells bouncing between walls. it's ominous, obscured, and would send shivers across any normal person's spines because— only batman and his partners could do that. what do you mean one of joker's lackeys, no, his sidekick, could do the same disappearing trick with all the heavy fabric and ringing bells accompanying them?

not only that, but their make-up stands out, every single thing about them screams, "notice me," but you still blend in with the shadows. even eyewitnesses themselves state that the joker would often scold you for being too silent— to crack a joke at least, not scare the living daylights out of your victims for appearing to close behind their back. it ruins all the fun and immersion, you know?!

after all, all the descriptions i gave about the reader pertaining to sound often denotes your quiet footsteps in the hallways and your barely "audible" voice, no matter how much you attempt to raise it. the fact that the joker has to attach bells on you from the amount of times you probably creeped him out is an amusing imagery though. but it may also act as some sort of leash— a way for the joker to ensure you don't stray too far from him and cause trouble on your own. you know what they say: twice the trouble, twice the fun.

and i can imagine just how the batfamily would react to a new villain accompanying joker in tow. one who's footsteps resembled the soft thumping they hear in the manor's halls that disappeared all too suddenly, drowned by the sound of clinking bells. one who willingly acts out whatever order the joker throws your way, done with a flat, nearly deadpanned expression... bruce, as batman, trying to talk you out of the job because you never actively harmed people, only for the jester to look him dead in the eyes and say you are loyal to joker and joker only.

the family believing you to be brainwashed, at least, but then whenever you do a great job — whether it's blowing up an abandoned building or tying up civilians — the joker would praise you with a loud cackle and they could see the dim light in your eyes slowly flicker brighter, while you ask joker if you're doing enough. to which the clown would reply with nothing but praises for his second-in-command... ouch.

if they do discover your true identity, it's going to be a hard punch in bruce's gut. now that i think about it, i might just write a oneshot about "pierrot" hehe.

as for anymore future drawings... i mean, i'm willing to hit up your inbox/messages to give you ideas pookie. as long as you want to draw for my series too, because it's such a huge honor for me to receive fanart 🥹

okay but imagine loving family! reader getting heavily criticized by the general public, not because of your ongoing affair away from bruce. no, they'd expected that to happen. but because you're clearly leading both clark kent and superman on like, go choose...

— masterlist !

imagining a&a reader walking up to a room one day because they hear voices coming from there, taking a peak and seeing bruce help cass pack up for her ballet recitals, bonding together, alone, while he'd awkwardly sweep away any stray hairs from cass' forehead. watching how afterwards, she laughs as she does a gentle spin to showcase her pretty outfit for practice, watching how bruce never once keeps his sight away from his daughter, eyes gleaming with pride, never once hesitating to clap for her. then you hear his silent praises, witness him helping her tidy the straps of her ribbon, tell her she's doing great, better even, as he cups her face and kisses her forehead.

it's a beautiful sight that could've warmed anyone else's heart.

a moment between a father and daughter.

a moment you never had.

you would've thought that after all these years, you'd already have moved on and accepted how you'll never be quite close to bruce anymore. or at all. and yet that loud pang in your heart, the one you thought you'd bury alongside your hopes for a better life, it resurfaces once more.

it was always bruce and his kids.

never bruce and you.

the tiny gestures, their little inside jokes, and the comfort they feel being in their own space, unaware of their surroundings — of the ghost watching from beyond the door — as they talk about mundane things were the things you wished for all your life. things any other child who entered bruce's life could easily have.

it was little moments like these: bruce being present for their practices, cheering for damian on the side of the bleachers, even visiting bludhaven when dick sounded too down in their calls— it had you remembering all the times you've knocked on bruce's door when you were five, begging your sick father to just come pick you up at school, come to your school plays—

to just eat dinner with you for once.

knowing others could have his love so easily just makes you sick. and jealous. and bitter all over again.

knowing how they didn't even have to ask hurts even more.

knowing that bruce just somehow knew. about them. them and their lives. their hobbies. their relationships. their hardships. all without them having to go through all the conscious effort to remind him that they exist.

all the things you desperately tried to achieve.

all the things that never came true.

knowing you could never conjure a single memory where bruce would lay his warm, comforting hands on your shoulders, like a blanket of assurance and safety, a symbol of fatherly love, like he did with all the others—

the thought just... stings.

more than it should after all these years.

you'd have to physically pull yourself away from the slightly ajar door and hold in the bile slowly rising from your throat, reminding yourself that you're way past these theatrics, past the stage of yearning and what-if's.

yet it just reminded you of how different you were.

from them.

because while it's always you who always has to run, to catch up, to lose every breath in your body, just to see bruce's back already leaving your line of sight.

... you'll know he's only facing away from you—

because his eyes are already set on them.