Being A Forest Cryptid @shapeshiftingshades - Tumblr Blog

Yan! Neglectful! Batfam x Replaced! Reincarnated! Time-loop! Crazy! Reader [Horror/Angst] [Part 1]

It's me again!! Got a different PC, my brother got a new one gave me his old one one, so now I'm stuck writing on Windows 10! Sorry if anything is wrong, for some reason my keyboard lags when I type too fast so I'm stuck seeing everything show up slowly...hahah.

My writing might be hot buns but god damn it I will finish this damn draft

Anyway!!! So for this one I'm thinking Reader died reading a trashy fanfic of the Batfam and ended up as the side character who is straight up forgotten by the plot and replaced by the fics protagonist. And the only time they ever get shown is to die.

However Reader is not doing so hot, having been stuck in a death loop for the better half of 10 long years! Then one day they snap and stop caring about it all!!

Quick disclaimers/warnings before we start! Gore, violence, death. body horror, Reader is down right crazy, possessive and obsessive actions/thoughts, child neglect, Reader believes that everyone is only faking interest in them, Underage Dr1nk1ng, stalker-ish actions, Reader is kinda channeling Aaron Burr from Hamelton the Musical and AM from IHNMAIMS, su1c1dal/passively su1c1dal Reader, bullying, Reader is NOT a good person in this one (for the most part), Reader is akin to a cornered feral animal on laughing gas, Reader dehumanizes themself

•18+ Adults Only

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gloopfruit

You’re a big girl now! No more daddy’s little girl

Part one - Part two - Part three - Part four

summary: Your family had never truly seen and appreciated you. Might as well move on and live your life!

pairings: platonic!batfam x neglected!gn!reader

cw: A bit of emotional neglect, though none of it is intentional. Mc’s very smart and cool

word count: 2.1K

a/n: this is my first time posting on tumblr, kinda nervous (read: very nervous). My writing’s very rusty, and I am chronically allergic to rereading anything I ever write, so if there are mistakes, uh, I’m super sorry. Also, this is my first time writing anything DC related! So I hope you enjoy this little creation :] Much love

Bruce Wayne didn’t have time for sentimentality.

Those who truly knew him were deeply aware of this information, aware of how he would never truly be present emotionally in any sort of relationship. This included his own horde of children, who, throughout the years, had learned to live with that weighting absence.

Still, in your childhood, you attempted to cling onto the idea of a fatherly figure with an iron grip that even his coldest silences couldn’t break.

Your arrival was a change in the manor, a breeze in a dry desert, the warm sun in a frigid winter. Young, unmarred by the horrors of Gotham city, your new family felt wary to be the ones to taint your innocence. So, as one does when uncomfortable, they spent time elsewhere.

It wasn’t a collective, malevolent decision. It simply arrived like something unavoidable. They still ate with you at dinner, still asked you about your day occasionally, about school drama, or hobbies, but the conversations never went much further. Your relationship didn’t evolve into something closer to family. Instead, it stagnated at polite acquaintances that happened to be roommates and legally related. Nothing more, nothing less.

In a perhaps cynical way, you had expected not to fit in with your siblings. You arrived in a moment where Dick was elsewhere physically, Tim elsewhere mentally, and Steph often appearing and disappearing at the manor at will. Not to mention Jason, since the topic was taboo around anyone, like a ghost story, a warning.

However, childishly, you at least hoped your father – whom you shared blood with, took you in after tragedy inevitably struck as it does in this godforsaken city – would attempt to create a bond with you. You were realistic bordering pessimistic, yes, but you had naively expected him to try. Not even succeed, just put in some effort.

But that small spark of hope quickly died out when you met and began to understand the man in his essence.

The process was short; you’d recall later on. You remembered arriving at the manor, terrifyingly beautiful, haunted by years of history and secrets. It almost felt like one of those mystery slash romance books your mother would read privately in the safety of your home. And this was your home now.

You were greeted at the door by a man with clever eyes and a polite smile and bow, a relaxing accent you had only ever heard in movies introducing him to you, introducing the manor to you. The police officer – whose name you forgot over the years, who had tried cheering you up in the car – bid you farewell, and that was that. A new beginning. New family, new house, new life. Your mother was dead; you had confirmed it yourself. Nothing would ever go back to how it was. But maybe this change would be good for you.

These thoughts lasted four months.

The first person you met was one of your new brothers, Timothy (“Tim” he insisted you call him, as if he stuck around enough for you to call him anything). He was a few years older than you, and according to Alfred, a genius. To you, he kind of looked like he needed a hug and a good nap less he crashes and burn out, but you kept those thoughts to yourself – like you did most of your thoughts.

You met Dick Grayson, Golden Boy with a bright smile, eyebags, and a distracted gaze. He had things to do, a job in a different city, responsibilities as an adult. You understood, let him rush around with no hard feelings, knowing his energy meter would empty eventually. Maybe you could talk to him then. (Who wanted to talk to some random kid your adopted dad took in anyways? You probably would’ve done the same in his place).

Steph was a pleasant addition to your routine, and probably your favorite (after Alfred, of course) of the manor’s inhabitants, even If she didn’t truly live there. She hung around a lot, livening the gloomy atmosphere of the manor while providing feminine energy; something you discovered to be unfortunately rare in you new place. Nonetheless, she had this look in her eye that sometime stole your breath. A look that sometimes haunted you, as if she was searching and searching for something. After a while, she stopped coming around as much, Alfred explaining that with the age, she had new responsibilities. You felt disappointed and a bit bitter, but who were you to complain? She wasn’t your real sister. You both knew that.

A month passed, you talked to your biological father for the first and probably last time. He was quiet – you noticed silently – but attentive. Bruce Wayne never spoke unless necessary, you had heard, but with you, he was soft words and awkward smiles. You felt endeared by his behavior, despite being only eleven years old, and satisfied by his attention. It was like a flower being watered after weeks of neglect, like finally being fed a warm meal after weeks of starvation. The feeling was euphoric, and you brightened when he offered to go on a father-child date to get to know his new kid better.

And like any drug, the crash was abrupt and harsh. He disappeared into the shadows of the manor once more, and the next time you saw him his eyebags were darker and the lines in his forehead deeper. You couldn’t bear to be the one responsible for adding more onto his already seemingly overflowing plate. So, like your father, you let yourself melt into the shadows.

Throughout the years, your father took in more children with varying personalities. Although the manor was fuller, it still held that characteristic darkness to It, like it was destined to be lonely no matter how many people you put in it. You moved on, how could you not? It does you no good to dwell on what could’ve been had you integrated yourself into their circle. The curiosity and hurt would kill you (Though in the dark of the night, sometimes, you let yourself wonder).

You found out about their identities after two years of living with them. A long time? A bit, but how were you supposed to notice signs when they were never there, and this was the first time you were living and actually interacting (as limited as the interactions were) with rich people. At first you thought all rich people were quirky, but when their conversations went on, unaware of your hidden presence, you began realizing that maybe this wasn’t normal.

Resentment was the first feeling on your mind, though it quickly made way for resignation. The discovery reassured you, albeit disappointingly, because it showed you that no matter what you did, you would’ve never been apart of their world. You mourned a bit, yearning for a family; siblings who hung out with you, teased you, protected you, a dad who cherished you, showed you off. Then you moved on.

In fact, it pushed you to do better. Because if your sort-of family could go out to fight crime at night altruistically, you could do your best to help as well.

You began working harder towards your goal, becoming a doctor. Not to impress anyone, but because you wanted to make a difference in this city. You studied hard, pouring your life and soul into schoolwork, barely taking breaks.

Alfred grew worried, but you were as hardheaded and determined as your father, so his attempts to get through to you and push you to rest were all in vain. He even tried going through your siblings or Bruce, but it all fell through.

Silently, bitterly, during another all nighter, you’d sometimes liken yourself to the distant shadow of Tim in your memories. You wondered if this was why he did it, pushed himself to the brink for something. If this feeling was something he also eventually began clinging onto. But you had no time for such thoughts, so you pushed them away.

It was impressive how long you went on without breaking down and burning out. Yet you were a force of nature, a tree that let the weather mistreat it without letting it interrupt it from growing, water that kept flowing.

When you were fifteen, you told your family you wanted to be a doctor over dinner. It had been during an uncharacteristic lull in conversation, and you took the occasion to reveal it casually, like another piece of information, like it wasn’t your motivation and dream.

“And you think you’ll make it as a doctor?”

Your youngest brother and newest addition to the family sneered, an expression that felt wrong on a face so young. You didn’t rise to the bait.

“I’ve been studying a lot for a couple of years. I was just letting you know” you said, though your gaze remained on Bruce.

And since they were still quiet, you chose to drop the bomb.

“Can I practice by patching you guys up after patrol?”

Your question was polite in an almost indifferent way, though your indifference couldn’t hide your curiosity and eagerness for firsthand experience. A cup fell.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked awkwardly with a tense smile “What patrols?”

You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

“Do you think I’m dumb? I’ve been living with you guys for four years. I’d have to be stupid not to know your secret identities by now”

Damian seemed satisfied with that answer, crossing his arms proudly and mumbling something about ‘superior Wayne genetics’, while the rest of your family had varied reactions. Dick gaped at you, as if your knowing of their identities was unthinkable, Steph seemed somewhat conflicted but amused, Cass… well, she didn’t seem angry (or anything for that matter?), in fact, she seemed proud, and Jason was cajoling loudly.

Nevertheless, the reaction you were looking at was your father’s. Bruce looked at you with an indecipherable expression. As did Tim. But you didn’t break eye contact, you wouldn’t back down – you wouldn’t be worthy of the Wayne name if you let them intimidate you. A deep, tired sigh.

“I had my doubts,” lies, you haven’t seen him in four months, but you’ll let him have it “but the idea isn’t bad”

The shocked reactions broke into disapproval

“They’re a civilian!” “B, they have zero experience, are you insane?-” “I don’t think that is the best idea, father” “That is the funniest thing you’ve said today, old man-” a guffaw.

“Enough” he interrupted. His voice oozed authority, enough to not need to shout for them to all fall silent again. Your father looked in your eyes, deeply, as if seeing something he hadn’t seen or noticed before, something hiding in plain sight.

A sigh “I agree to let you shadow the med area in the cave-” a chorus of complaints and disagreements suddenly interrupted him, but with a glare, they quieted down again “On one condition” he began ominously.

You raised an unimpressed brow. Did he have to be so dramatic about it? A sigh of your own, perhaps it was contagious “Sure. A condition” you repeated flatly. Your first real impression of your family wasn’t turning out to be exactly positive. The urge to retreat into the safety of your room and focus on your studies once more was heavily tempting.

“You’ll obviously need supervision, ideally from Alfred. You have no prior experience” You hummed in agreement. No, duh, you were fifteen, of course you had zero medical experience “You’ll also be required to shadow Dr Thompkins on the weekends to better your knowledge. If you want to help, you’ll help fully”

Perhaps you were more like your father than you thought, because in that moment, you felt like you were seeing him for the first time as well. A bitter taste coated your tongue as you gave an affirmative answer, then returned to your room, doing your best to ignore the argument that exploded at the dinner table after you left. Some things never changed, it seems. They always say what they truly feel and think when you’re not around.

Either way, you were satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, even though your dad’s utilitarian reasoning left a heavy feeling in your chest and a pain you couldn’t explain in your heart.

Nevertheless, that was the beginning of a new period of your life. The beginning of the end, perhaps. Because you are [Name] Wayne, and you were going to become a doctor and help – with the added valor of proving yourself to your family – if it was the last thing you did.

dolly-cherie

In no way should y’all fucking HARASS authors on the internet.

Y’all are genuinely sick in the head if you think it’s okay to dox, bully, or HATE on someone.

Tumblr, or any platform like this, has its rules, and if you think you can just do shit like that, you seriously need to be kicked out- because it makes me so fucking disgusted to know that one of my friends who writes for a community that barely is alive gets sent death threats??? You all seriously are so immature, it’s embarrassing. If you have done stuff like this- shame on YOU. AND you wonder why they barely post, or why you have nothing to read or interact with for the topic you’re hyper fixated on.

Maybe instead of being childish and affecting people mentally or physically, you should GENUINELY touch grass and learn some digital etiquette. Tumblr is supposed to be fun- but people like that ruin it for everybody.

So I beg you, if you think it's okay to do stupid fuckery like that- you can fucking leave and delete this app. No one wants someone like that in this community.

lieutenant-lithuania

Imagine Y/N, slowly cracking under their neglect from the batfam, having to learn how to live in a family that doesn't want to see them. You're only a teen and have multiple years to go in the mansion.

You barely ever spoke up, gave up on all attempts of trying to communicate and befriend anyone. What was the point?

Till one day Bruce decided to ask you about your skipped classes, in that feigned concern. If you could call it feigned, he clearly had somewhere else to be.

And you, for the first time ever, just snapped. "Shut up and get the fuck away from me."

That's all you said, voice filled with disdain and hatred. It left Bruce speechless, watching you walk off with a new sense of spirit in you.

If they won't like you, you won't give them any reason to anymore.

-----------

Tim was hunched over, head ducked into his phone and scrolling through the latest article, possibly connected to a case he's working on, when suddenly he bumps into someone. It's hard enough for him to drop his phone and see it bounce weakly off the ground.

He looks up and sees you, your own device also clattered onto the floor.

"watch—"

"Watch where you're going! Are you blind or something? Or is that shitload of coffee finally catching up to you, dingbat." You curse, quickly snatching your phone off the floor and muttering a couple more unsavory things under your mouth. Tim tries to say something, tries to ask what's wrong, but you're already off and away without as much as a glance behind you.

Have you always been so angry and bold? Come to think of it, he hasn't talked to you in a while, better make sure you're okay.

-------

You lay on the couch, sprawled out like you personally bought and built it. TV remote in hand, a random show you found blasting through the living room.

This place has the best couch, the best view of the biggest TV in the manor (if you don't count any in the batcave) and has the best sound system up here. You didn't come up here often, since it was a popular space for the bats to relax in. But now, you didn't care.

"hey, you gonna finish that soon?" A cheery voice suddenly picked up behind you. You lazily dropped your head back to look at the noir haired Nightwing. "My show's gonna be on soon."

You looked at Dick for a moment, face blank, before replying "I won't be finishing soon, no." Without further input you direct your attention back to the show. Dick was a bit... Caught off guard. "Uh— what?"

You scoff, pausing the show as if he was wasting precious time and turned your entire body to fully deliver your next words. "I said I'm not finished, I'm gonna binge watch this whole thing today, go find somewhere else to watch those stupid rom-coms. Stop acting as if this is the only goddamn TV in this manor."

Dick is, to say the least, surprised. Your attitude has thrown him off his thought process, and just absolutely fumbled him. He doesn't know what to do so he just, walks out.

What's gotten into you? When did you become so angry? Did he do something? He needs to figure this out quick.

-------

Soon, it seems like the air has thickened. You feel the bats's eyes linger on you as you walk by, taking in your every move and facial expression. Why does it feel like all of a sudden everyone is secretly staring at you? Why is everyone starting to act like they care? It unsettled you, so whenever someone did something even slightly suspicious in your eyes, you'd snarl and bark for them to go away and go on another mission or something.

-------

Alfred tricked you.

You stood in the meeting room, the grand table having full seats. Every one of them, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, heck even Jason was here, they were all here and looking right at you.

You nervously looked at each member, feeling small and vulnerable again.

There was no fresh batch of cookies in here...

Bruce spoke up, fists clenched on the hardwood table, his voice uncharacteristically soft, gentle, sincere.

"Y/N, please take a seat. We'd like to talk to you."

wuzhere75

Old WOF designs from May 2022 (pre-me posting here). Wanted to show these here because I’m considering doing a series re-design and I still kind of like some of these (feel free to use these as bases as long as you give me credit).

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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

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luludeluluramblings

Oh my God, Oh my God. Who wrote this? - Prologue

Neglected!Reader x Yandere!Batfam

Someone’s been writing fanfiction about you and shipping you with your adoptive siblings.

Warnings: Future Yandere themes, CRACK, pseudo-incest mentioned, GN!Reader, Reader doesn’t see themselves as apart of the family.

Platonic Route

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty One

munchy6689

From the start.

Neglectful! Batfamily x merfolk! Reader x Dispatch

Divider credits.

Cw: probably inaccurate oyster biology. Idk might really piss an oyster lover off (I get real mad when people confuse seals for sea lions, so idk felt it was important) also probably inaccurate 24 year old

• You never felt fully safe in Gotham.

• Was it the crime? Sorta, but not exactly.

• Was it Batman and his robins? No, for years you'd admired them. Well, there was one thing that scared you.

• Then he showed up. Who? Signal.

• What scared you about Gotham was the metahuman hate. Why? You were technically a metahuman.

• You were an oyster. You had a shell, but you hid it and wandered around without it.

• Your hair shined like a pearl would, and so do your eyes.

• Since you were so often out of your shell you made a lot of pearls.

• You cried pearls it was quite a strange sight. If it had been a while since you cried you'd have pretty big pearls pop out.

• You got adopted into the Wayne household a long time ago and never really fit into place.

• You're older than Tim by a few years being 24 and all.

• You had actually found out who Bruce was at 16 which let you figure out the rest of the family.

• You stayed in the manor for a while. When you were 16 you said you'd leave Bruce and the rest the day you turned 18.

• You stayed though, why?

• No one cares also, Bruce is a billionaire, why leave when you can leech off him for a bit longer?

• Bruce and the rest of the family never acknowledged you, but that was okay!

• You had a walk-in closet big enough to hide your shell, you had a stash of pearls you could sell when needed, and you had a decent enough phone.

• What you were missing was a hero to look up to.

• A part of you wanted a hero without powers to look up to like you had done to Batman before you found out he was your father.

• So who did 16 year old you turn to? 24 year old mechaman.

• Two years pass and you're still admiring Mechaman, is it the daddy issues? Probably! Either way, you're still there.

• You wanted something other than Gotham, Justice leagues, and heroes near you.

• Your gaze shifted to California. SDN called for you. They had diversity, they didn't mind what Gotham labeled as metahumans, you fit in enough!

• Plus being a hero nerd in Gotham has some advantages! It helped you learn who'd be dispatched where!

• Why not be a hero yourself? You've been a sheltered billionaire's kid for a while now! Your shell? All in all pretty weak! It was strong enough, but still!

• So at 24 after saving up your own money, easy when you live with a billionaire who'll throw money at his problems to make them go away, and a few more pearls you move out and head to California.

• You did not buy the luxury apartment you wanted, why? You were living on your own money. And SDN probably wouldn't pay a new hire enough for that.

• Later that day you turn on the news while unpacking only to hear Mechaman was stepping down. The reporters were being dicks about it too! Okay, maybe you were heavily biased.

• finally it's Friday! Interview day. You head in to find a very wet white boy, and mechaman.

• You of course sit down and introduce yourself, not as a Wayne. You used your old last name. Better not to be tied to Gotham here.

• You chat with both wet boy, Waterboy as he introduced himself, and Mechaman.

• Mechaman helps waterboy with his tie getting extremely close to look at a flame hero walking by. You recognized him as a villain, but clearly he's turning around.

• Mechaman gets called away by Blonde Blazer.

• You stay with Waterboy encouraging him before you're called away for your interview.

• And you got to try out the job! You had show potential! Or they were just short staffed.

• You bumped into a very large man with long black hair. He introduced himself as Royd. He was nice and you both chatted until you both realized you should tell get to work.

• You sit down in the cubicle behind a man who introduces himself as Robert Robertson to his team.

• His voice was familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place it.

• You hear as Robert's team, Z-team, is yelled at by an older man, Chase, you're pretty sure.

• Chase walks over to you and explains to you your team, Y-team.

• You were understaffed. Your team of 8 was actually a team of 6. This wasn't ideal. In fact a lot of them were fast, defensive, and charismatic.

• As the day went by you had a call come up, and it'd be perfect for Sonar of Z-team!

• And Robert was in need of someone who matched your team, seeing as Golem was resting.

• You make the decision before you can think it through. You connect to Robert's call.

"Robert, this is Y-team dispatcher, (Name). Could you swap calls with me? Sonar would be best! And I have someone like Golem!" You say your voice echoing over the headsets of everyone in Z-team.

• This was... Weird. No one really said they needed any member of the Z-team. Certainly not Y-team.

• Robert stayed quiet for a second before responding.

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead and transfer the call. I'll send Sonar over." Robert said his voice tired, yet calm. "Thanks, I'll send Guy over." You said as you immediately transferred the calls.

• You decided if you ever needed help again, you'd ask him.

• You disconnect from the call and continue as usual with Y-team.

• You finally get to your break and head into the break room only to see Robert get punched in the face.

• You are shoved by Invisigal who grumbles a begrudging sorry to you, and likely you alone judging by how hard she punched Robert.

• Sonar asks for Robert's "Twinks" as you watched.

• You had enough money to not be stingy, besides he helped you earlier, so you buy him two twinkies.

• Later you're taken in Blonde Blazer's office and she talks to you and your day.

• You did good! After all you had nearly zero misses, you don't want to talk about the misses, and you were smart enough to ask Robert for help!

• As you leave you set up your desk noticing Waterboy and Robert talking the donut that was shoved into his keyboard.

• You wave at Robert as you chat with Waterboy for a bit.

• You head off before Waterboy and run into Robert right before Phenomaman flies off.

• You both chat before heading your own ways.

• Little did you and Robert know, you caused quite the stir with Z-team.

A/N: might be cringe, idk. I had fun writing this though! If people like it you'll have to wait a while for updates seeing as I only play dispatch on weekends (I'm trying to take the game slow) and I don't write on weekends. This was fun to write though! Batfamily barely mention, but reader just left, give it a minute.

Divider credits: @sseuda

Taglist: @ifera-lisa

unhinged-insomniac

How a neglected story goes.

Platonic Yandere! Batfam x Neglected! Reader

thecorefrisk

I have two platonic yandere Batfam prompts for you guys.

1. The reader is the villainess in every manhwa.

…except she’s cursed to be a do no wrong character.

This means that the reader comes into the family with a ‘system’ gained maybe through reincarnation or isekai and that meant that they had to be cruel/ruin the batfam because of it.

But they can hear the reader’s thoughts/intentions because of the reader’s faulty system. And they don’t know why their actions and words contradict so much…

But they’re not going to let the reader push them away. (And isn’t it so sweet how easily foiled the reader make their plans? How guilty they seem?)

(And also you could add a ‘replacement’ for the reader who knows what the reader is up to and just plays along. Not malicious at all and genuinely likes the reader. Just thinks that they’re doing this for some big reason and doesn’t care that they’re being humiliated on the daily.)

2. The batfam is somehow convinced/realizes that the reader has been silently scheming to ‘escape’/leave the family the entire time via making the batfam hate them.

And the reader has. But not because they hate the batfam, they’re just heavily traumatized and don’t like attention because of it.

(Perhaps a big confrontation scene that sends the reader into a panic attack and has the batfam making more assumptions but also reveals a bit of the reason as to why the reader made the batfam hate them??)

But the batfam is just so hurt. Years they spent absolutely hating someone, hours they wasted trying to figure them out— why they were the way that they were— only to find out the hateful, bitter side the reader showed them wasn’t them at all.

..And they find out it was all an act through simple camera surveillance.

And look at them. Look how kind, how affectionate, how sweet they are to some stranger outside the family. How loving.

They’re practically all over that stranger— clinging to their hand, draping themselves over them, grinning up at them like they hung up the moon and the stars, letting this stranger hold them like their family had never gotten a chance to.

So, the batfam devise a punishment for the reader and a gift to themselves.

They fully integrate the reader into the family.

lieutenant-lithuania

You barely ever spoke up, gave up on all attempts of trying to communicate and befriend anyone. What was the point?

Till one day Bruce decided to ask you about your skipped classes, in that feigned concern. If you could call it feigned, he clearly had somewhere else to be.

And you, for the first time ever, just snapped. "Shut up and get the fuck away from me."

That's all you said, voice filled with disdain and hatred. It left Bruce speechless, watching you walk off with a new sense of spirit in you.

If they won't like you, you won't give them any reason to anymore.

-----------

He looks up and sees you, your own device also clattered onto the floor.

"watch—"

Have you always been so angry and bold? Come to think of it, he hasn't talked to you in a while, better make sure you're okay.

-------

You lay on the couch, sprawled out like you personally bought and built it. TV remote in hand, a random show you found blasting through the living room.

"hey, you gonna finish that soon?" A cheery voice suddenly picked up behind you. You lazily dropped your head back to look at the noir haired Nightwing. "My show's gonna be on soon."

Dick is, to say the least, surprised. Your attitude has thrown him off his thought process, and just absolutely fumbled him. He doesn't know what to do so he just, walks out.

What's gotten into you? When did you become so angry? Did he do something? He needs to figure this out quick.

-------

Alfred tricked you.

You stood in the meeting room, the grand table having full seats. Every one of them, Bruce, Dick, Tim, Damian, heck even Jason was here, they were all here and looking right at you.

You nervously looked at each member, feeling small and vulnerable again.

There was no fresh batch of cookies in here...

Bruce spoke up, fists clenched on the hardwood table, his voice uncharacteristically soft, gentle, sincere.

"Y/N, please take a seat. We'd like to talk to you."

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

ultrainfinitepit

All my color palettes! Feel free to use these colors, and tag me if you’d like.

ghost-ghore

thinking about an escape room but the twist is that if you don't get out in time, you're used by the entire staff until they're satisfied.

you know what you're getting into, of course. you sign the forms saying that the facility can't be held liable for any damages that happen to you. afterwards, you're stripped down and restrained. cuffs around your wrists behind your back as you're bent over a table, chains holding your ankles together. a collar is attached to your neck, connected in two places. one, to hold you still on the table. and the other connected to the ceiling with a lot of slack. you seem to be in a dungeon, iron bars blocking the unlocked exit.

you're left alone and the timer is placed immediately in front of you, counting down, minute by minute. right where you can see it. the restraints are firm and secure, but they each have their give, their weaknesses. the chains on your feet can be undone by looping it around the corner of the table and pulling at it at just the right angle. then you have to move your cuffed wrists behind your back and under your legs so you can use them.

the part of the collar connecting you to the table is dealt with by simply unhooking it, meaning you're able to stand up and move around the room. there's a box with a pile of keys for you to sort through. one of them must open the cuffs. one of them must unlock the bars. you sort through them in a hurry, adrenaline making your cuffed hands shake as you try each and every one of them, adding them gradually to the discard pile. once your hands are free, you fiddle with your collar. it doesn't seem to have any give. but while doing this, you see that on the other side of the iron bars is a bolt cutter, exactly what you need.

you're invigorated, trying all the keys on the bars as the minutes count down. your time is scarce, it's moving far more quickly than you're able to take into account. until finally, the lock clicks. the metal gate swings open and you can see the bolt cutter on the floor right in front of you.

except when you walk forward, the collar around your neck tugs you back. the tool is just out of reach. you can't get enough slack to pick it up. you try desperately, every option you can think of, to stretch your body out and try and kick the bolt cutter closer to you, desperately now as you see you only have three minutes remaining, then two, then one and a half.

until you finally remember the chains on your feet. you hurry back to the table, reaching under it to grab the chains and looking at the time left on the timer. 50 seconds. you hurry back to the iron bars, throwing the chains, trying to lasso the bolt cutter to finally get it in your grasp. and with 20 seconds remaining, the tool hooks onto the end of the shackles on the chains, and you desperately try reeling it in. 15 seconds, and you're pulling it closer, so very carefully. until finally, you reach down and wrap your hands around the tool and that's when your heart sinks.

it wasn't a bolt cutter. it was a toy. lightweight and useless, like something that would go in a child's tool set. and you realise: you were never meant to escape this. you never even had a chance. you had willingly walked into a trap.

your time is up and an alarm sounds, the lighting in the room turning red. the staff walk through the door, heading straight for you, cocks and straps and toys in hand, grins of delight on their faces.

they push you back onto the table and use you exactly how they want to, each and every one of them noticing how soaked you've gotten just from being in the escape room and playing this game, mocking you for what a slut you are as they take you without any preamble.

they use all your holes simultaneously, manhandling you into whatever positions they want. bending you over, taking you from behind. seeing how much can fit into you at once. slapping you about, spitting on you, spanking and whipping, passing you from one to another. never a moment for you to rest or recover before you're impaled on another cock.

all while their mocking voices taunt you.

this is what you were asking for when you came here. this is exactly what you were hoping for. to be used relentlessly. you never wanted to escape anyway, no matter what you'd say. you needed to be used like this. only sluts ever enter these escape rooms, and so you would be treated as what you were. willing holes for them.

once they've all had their turn, they take the toy bolt cutter and shove it into your used hole, fucking you with it slowly. it's too big and uncomfortable, but you stretch around it so easily after all that use. your arousal making it easy. you keep crying out, and they keep laughing. this was the thing you thought would set you free. this was your salvation for twenty minutes or so, all you cared to get. and now they were filling you with it. and worse than that, they were making sure you enjoyed it.

they bring you to an intense orgasm with the very thing you thought would save you. your mind is foggy and you can't think of much aside from the feeling of the toy inside you. you're burning with embarassment.

you came so close to escaping. you were so resourceful and clever about it all. but now you were nothing but holes for them to use until they decided they were done. all that intelligence you used to try and get out would leak out with your arousal as they continued to whore you out. your brain would never work the same once they were done with you. once they had reduced you to something so pathetic.

they aren't done using you. they won't be for a while. and you don't know if you ever want to be done serving them. this is where thinking got you, and now you were being put in your place.

ftmslutboystuff

Mmm im so sleepy, it would be such a shame if i left the door unlocked so daddy can come in and play with me, if he touched my sleeping body, softly running his hands down and pinching my nipples just enough for me to whine and squirm in my sleep, for him to move down to my tummy then slowly shimmy off my underwear, slowly running his fingers across my slit, making me so wet until his fingers push into my cunny, fingerfucking me harder and harder prepping me for what’s about to come, when daddy finally slips his hard cock inside of me, my body reacting even when I’m asleep, daddy is always so big and it hurts when he puts it in my cunny. Would be a shame if he thrusted in and out slowly at first then full blown fucking me so hard I wake up with a scream in my throat and tears in my eyes, he slaps a hand over my mouth telling me to be quiet

“Shh baby we gotta be quiet yea? Mommy’s sleeping next door and we don’t want her to wake up. Can you be a good kid and be quiet for your daddy yea?”

Letting him use me as a toy for the rest of the night making me cum over and over again until he finally kisses me goodnight and slips out of my bedroom, leaving me drenched in cum and excited knowing daddy will be back the next night

(Sorry if it was bad I’m new to this lmao)

ankledeepsoup

Villain Robert Robertson III, also this man needs gauges.

joydoesathing

protector of the house 🚪

i love my wife that looks like an ex-convict but isn't 🤎

so here's doris, my design take and concept for fem!dorian

bonus doodle:

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acid-ixx

(11/29/25) — don't romance the npc masterlist

ft. romantic yandere batfam! x gn! isekai'd reader x yandere neglected main character (y/n) x other yandere! dc characters

♡ MAIN MASTERLIST ♡

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

discord link: the reader (you) isn't called by any name, meanwhile (y/n) is a character of their own. lowercase writing, crackpost, nsfw themes, emotional neglect, age gaps, slow burn for some characters, fast obsession for others. eventual branching out to darker themes, other warnings would be added soon. i am not responsible for your consumption of media.

— SYNOPSIS !

"LOG 015: unbelievable! tim fucking drake cleared out the fucking canteen's menu just 'cause he wanted to 'make sure' his baby (y/n)'s favorite meal isn't fucking poisoned?! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT LUNCH NOW?!"

"LOG 025: just got the stink-eye from some camouflaged red hood in the bushes because i accidentally, mind you! bumped into his 'angel'. eugh, seriously, this man thinks he's the shit but he's just canon fodder in the actual comics."

"LOG 057: oh no. oh no. oh no. why did it have to turn out this way. hell no, no WAY am i getting grouped withTHEM of all people—?! chat, i'm SO cooked."

♡

yeah, so those voice logs totally aren't for anybody to listen to, but ever since you've been transmigrated into the world of comics, you've really had nobody to talk to about your otherworldly experience— save for those magic users like maybe zatanna, but you're too much of a wuss to explore beyond gotham university and the vicinity of your apartment.

now that that's out of the picture, where do you begin?

ah.

being the isekai'd npc of a neglected reader fic has its perks.

you've got decent schooling in the city's main university, a decent dorm, some decent friends, and a decent life. nothing out of the ordinary, as long as you ignore the concept of living in gotham a disadvantage in the first place.

it simply means you aren't the victim adjacent to some cuckoo-wack family's neglect, and you've got yourself some even more decent parents instead. so that's zero chances of being hurt, or thrown unwillingly into a story where you'd have to wait for years before you've eventually been noticed, they turned insane, and finally kept all locked up like some pretty bird in a golden cage.

you've honestly got the best of it.

but also being the isekai'd side character of a neglected reader fic has its downfalls.

because being the side character studying in the same university as them, meanwhile, means you've just been given first class tickets to share the same space with them, the beloved (y/n), and that already puts you high risk for danger for both the city's vigilantes and villains alike for even breathing the same air as them.

but okay, as long as you stay cautious and stray far away from them, then you're completely safe.

easy peasy lemon squeezy, right? wrong!

apparently, your professor came in the form of the cruel gods above and fatefully decided to transform your life from decent to danger by grouping you and a bunch of other no-name's with, you guessed it, (y/n)!

so now it's up to you, their manor invitation, and (y/n)'s sudden offer of friendship, to find ways to survive the next few months being associated with them, and hopefully end up alive and not chewed up by a bunch of the freaks who claimed to love them.

if that's not the best case, then, who says you couldn't try transmigrating into another universe as a means to an end instead?

yup, totally a master plan, 100% effectiveness. you can't wait to try the list of painless deaths you've written in your beloved black diary—

but that's for later, dying now is not the choice: you've got a needy (y/n), and the complementary crazies to deal with!

♡

"LOG 070: i... i found a severed finger under my bed. it— it looks like it's from the dude who asked me out on a date— i'm..."

"LOG 071: 'i love you'. that's what they just confessed to me a while ago. 'please... be mine.' they told me. i... i obviously didn't reply, just told them i need more time, to recuperate, to... i don't know—but they're waiting for a reply, and rules of the world doesn't let (y/n) wait, they get everything they want. and- and they want me. god, i- i don't know what to do."

"LOG 098: the walls have eyes. they're watching me. they're watching me."

"LOG 110: long story short but i— moved to another city, central city, i think it's safest here for now. hope nothin' bad happens. oh, and about (y/n)...! well, i don't want to talk about them... there's something— wrong about them."

goldmouse

Some other possible designs if the cafe blog came to fruition. It was gonna be a collab blog too. I think if we revisit the idea I might wanna sit down and rethink which characters and how many we'd add cause after a while it became a lot and I didn't even get to finish refs for them!

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