sanjisluvbot

[sanjisluvbot]

I’m in fucking TEARSSSS DO YOU HEAR ME!!! “ that’s how much Asian is left” PLEASEEEEEEE

[sanjisluvbot]

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Intuition

Previous || Next

-`♡´- PAIRING: Yandere Batfam / Neglected Black fem reader

-`♡´- LINK TO: Masterlist

-`♡´- SYNOPSIS: All you've ever been was ignored, so why not move to a new city. Everything was glitter and gold till that phone call you decided to finally pick up. From nothing you quickly became their most important something, but this, this was no regular 180. This family was drowning you, begging every waking moment for a forgiveness you don't see yourself handing out.

-`♡´- NOTES: I hope ch 2 is enjoyed as much as ch 1!!!! Not completely edited ( sorrryyy) MWuah! Oh, taglist is still open !!! Also, no warnings yet because it's not that scary

The hours flew by, and you distracted yourself from your previous encounter with your father by attempting to continue your painting. Darkness began to overtake Gotham like a blanket of death and your inspiration was stuck in the big apple.

You were dreading this ‘dinner’ and the discussion that apparently needed to be had in front of the whole family. Was this a sick way of humiliating you for trying to move on from them? Was your escape to New York so angering that they needed to drag your back to the city and remind you of their existence.

You showered off the new version of you. Digging into your closet, finding the girl you used to be. Dark colored tops, dresses, everything, dark and depressing. You shrugged on something neat, something you saw akin to armor to deflect the painful remarks and ridicule you're expected to face. Dinner got closer and soon you were called by Alfred, beginning your trudge to the dining room. 

Getting closer you heard distant laughs. Bile begging to rise to your throat. Dick and Tim laughing at whatever psycho shit came from Jason’s mouth, two distinct female laughter rang your ears into oblivion as well.

When you stepped into the room you swore you could hear your own blood rushing through your ears. Their eyes all piercing, expectant of you. Wordlessly you sat down keeping your head high facing the door to the kitchen where Alfred was thankfully walking out with drinks. 

They all drank in your appearance. They pretended to continue their chatter, but kept quieter, wanting to observe you. You finally looked like the girl they remembered only with radiant skin and a different hairstyle. Your clothes held a different fit as well, but the boys were trying their best to pretend you hadn’t put on a few sizes since the last time they truly paid attention to you.

Or maybe they were trying to pretend you weren’t the girl they relentlessly bullied and pushed past for a decade. No one wanted to speak up first, each and everyone, besides Damien, were anxiously anticipating Bruce’s arrival. 

The young boy observed you intensely, Head to toe, from your outfit when you first arrived to the little facial twitches you made interacting awkwardly with your father. He was enamored at your complete 180. Your timid behavior and crying over the way your siblings fooled around had angered him, he couldn’t understand why you would behave so childishly in a family like the Wayne's.

He noticed the way you were still shrinking away from them, pretending you were an innocent victim. He remembered the other day going through the computer in the bat cave, seeing all the extensive research they had done on you. 

His heart racing in pure anger seeing as you let men grope and kiss you ass soon as you left the manor. He sneered at you with just that memory and your eyes widened finally picking up his radar. Surprisingly you rolled your eyes at his behavior. Just as he was about to speak he heard the sound of his father’s heavy footsteps. 

Bruce sat down with all his children, happy to be once again surrounded by those who gave him the will to live. His eyes landed on you, in your old clothes looking as pretty as one of your paintings. Which reminded him he never got to look at the one you were currently working on due to his nerves. His confidence grew with the rest of his children in the room with him. The conversation tonight would begin the mending of your relationship with the entire family.

Alfred began bringing plates out and Bruce pondered on whether he or Dick should begin the conversation. What was found on your phone, whether or not you’d be returning to New York in September, how to begin the apology for not treating you like family for as long as you’d been here. He sighed to himself as he poured gravy onto his plate, your reaction to anything they needed to say tonight will go only one way. 

Earlier during the day the Batcave was occupied by Dick and Bruce. Silently working, waiting for one another to spark the conversation about you. Dick already knew Bruce wouldn’t start first so with a huff he swiveled his chair and rolled over to his side, “ We need to figure out how to begin the conversation later. Should we start with an apology or go straight into telling her off about the bullshit we found in her phone?” Bruce grunted angrily thinking about your behavior in some of these videos. “ I don’t want her to become too upset, but I am her father and you’re her older brother—I just can’t believe the way she acted!” 

“ Stop mentioning that, I don’t want to be angry for the rest of the day.”

“ I think we can ease into it all by talking about her public media, congratulate her, and then maybe she’ll be so happy she will understand when we mention not returning to New York!” 

The two were quickly forming a plan. 

The dinner dragged on, the weight of each passing second sinking deeper into your chest. The conversations around you felt hollow, their forced laughter and thinly veiled curiosity only amplifying the discomfort. Each member of the family studied you with an intensity that unsettled your nerves. Even Damien, the youngest of them all, couldn't stop watching you like a hawk, his dark eyes piercing through the veil of your calm exterior.

You couldn’t help but feel the undercurrent of tension. You could sense that they had been discussing you before you arrived—hell, you knew they had. The way they looked at you now was different, more calculating, as if you were some puzzle they were eager to solve. You clenched your fists under the table, trying to keep your composure.

Bruce was talking now, his tone warm, almost overly so, as he praised your work—your art, your paintings, your social media presence. You felt the air in the room grow thicker with each compliment, the undertone of admiration from your father felt almost too affectionate. But you couldn’t pinpoint why. It was when he mentioned your “public media presence” that you felt the first cold prickle run down your spine.

“Y/n,” he began again, leaning forward as though eager to engage you, “You’ve been doing so well, haven’t you? You’ve truly blossomed. The way you’ve built your own life away from Gotham—it's impressive. The way you’ve grown... you’ve become a woman, haven't you?”

His words felt too sharp, too scrutinizing, this couldn’t be the same man who barely glanced at you six months ago when you said you were leaving for New York.. The back of your neck prickled with an uncomfortable heat. You could feel their gazes intensifying as they looked at you, as if they were all waiting for something—waiting for you to fall into their trap.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. You were used to compliments on your work and achievements… just from other people. It had been so long since anyone in this room had complimented you like this, in fact, they never complimented you. Something was very wrong tonight and yet, the way they spoke about you now made you feel a warm tingle, as though you were a person to them, someone they truly loved. 

Bruce continued, his voice softer, “I think we can all agree that you’ve done well for yourself. But…” He hesitated, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “There are still some things we need to discuss. Things that can’t be left in the past, like your time here in Gotham, and... well, your future. You don’t want to stay in New York forever, do you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach. Your intuition was always right. The thought of going back to live in Gotham, back to that suffocating manor, back to being the girl in the shadows felt like a prison sentence. You had found your freedom—your space. You had begun to heal, to find yourself, and now, they were pulling you back into their world, a world you had never fit into.

“I—” you started to speak, but your voice faltered under the weight of the stares not wanting to anger them. “I’m fine where I am. I’m happy in New York.”

Bruce’s smile remained, but it no longer held any warmth. It was darker, more predatory. His gaze lingered on your face, calculating, almost like he was looking past you, into the future he was trying to map out for you. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’ll be home soon. It’s just a matter of time. A family needs to stay together, Y/n. We have a lot of healing and apologizing to do.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. His tone made your heart race, the chill creeping up your spine turning into a full-on shiver. You couldn’t look at him any longer. Eyes turned down to the table, anger and fear coursed through you.

Your father spoke as though there was no reasoning behind your leaving, as if you were some defiant teenager trying to get a rise out of daddy. The affection within his words, affection he never had for you even when you first arrived at his front door was laced in something sick and possessive.

Anger washed over your features when you lifted your head. His eyes held love, all the love you wished you had, the love every one of your siblings received all these years. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, breathing through your nose before putting on a fake smile. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I’m happy where I am,” you said, smile twitching.

Your attempt to brush off his words only seemed to intensify his focus. The others—Dick, Tim, and Jason—watched you in silence, their expressions unreadable. Jason’s eyes narrowed in a way that made your skin crawl, while Barbra and Cass exchanged a look, the kind of look siblings share when they know something is about to get ugly.

Bruce leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur, barely audible over the sound of the clinking silverware. “We’ve been keeping track of you, Y/n. Of your social media, your friends. We want to make sure you’re safe, protected. You don’t need to be with those people, you know. You belong here, with us. You’ve always belonged here.”

You recoiled at his words, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—they were treating you like one of their villains. All this time, they had been watching, following your every move, like predators circling their prey. The thought of them lurking in the shadows of your life made you sick to your core. 

But before you could finish, Damien cut in, his voice laced with venom. “You’re not even really a part of this family. You’ve always been difficult—a distraction. And now you think you can just live however you want? As if you don’t owe us anything?”

Your eyes snapped to Damien, your blood running cold. The way he spoke, the way his words cut through the air—this was why you had left without word. They didn’t care about you; they only cared about controlling you as they easily control Gotham. And now that you had escaped, they were trying to drag you back, to reclaim what they thought was rightfully theirs. 

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the emotion you had been holding in for so long. The room fell into a stunned silence as you backed toward the door, your pulse pounding in your ears. “I’m not coming back. I’m not staying here. I don’t belong with you.”

Before you could make it to the door, Bruce was there, his hand slapping into the door and the other gripping your wrist with a surprising force that made you stumble. “Y/n, you’re staying home. You don’t get to make these decisions, you’re still a child. We’re family. You don’t get to run away from us, we’re trying to fix our relationship.”

“ Fuck you, you decide nothing! You never once cared about me or shit I’ve done in my life—any of you!”

His grip tightened, you winced at the reminder of who he was, at your wince he released the tight hold, not fully letting you go. This wasn’t about love—it was about control. About ownership. He doesn’t care about you, not truly. Not until you had made your escape, made them remember that you were alive.

Damien moved to block the door, your eyes tracking the shining silver tucked into his hand, his eyes gleamed with malicious intent. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The others were closing in now, like wolves circling their prey. Dick, Jason—they all stood together, silent, but the weight of their presence was suffocating. Your vision began to blur, the familiar feeling of anxiety keeping you paralyzed.

“You can’t keep me here,” you whispered, panic rising in your chest.

Bruce’s smile was cold, calculating. “Oh, but we can. You know that very well. I didn’t want dinner to turn out this way sweetheart, so please, sit down and we can talk about this. Like family should. ”

And before you could react, Damien was upon you, his hands gripping your arms as he pulled you back into your seat with force a child his age shouldn't have. Your heart pounded in your chest, your instincts screaming at you to escape, but there was no way out and there was nowhere to run without one of them catching you.

“You’re stuff will be delivered back to Gotham in the next few days. Next week we can look into one of Gotham's art schools, doesn’t that sound fantastic sweetheart?” Bruce said softly, his voice laced with a terrifying finality. “And we can plan a family trip for the summer, all of us together, no matter what.”

The walls closed in around you, and the air grew thick with the way smiles grew onto everyone’s face. Your life in New York, your freedom, was nothing but a fleeting dream. You sat in your chair, tears falling from your eyes as you tried to hold back your sobbing. They all went back to eating, chatting with one another as if nothing went down, as if they couldn’t hear the way you sobbed into your sleeve. 

“ I hate you,” you whisper.

Bruce stops chewing, looking up at you through his lashes. “ I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t want to be rough with you.” He says, remorse in his voice. 

When dinner ended, you quickly got up, rushing out of the dining room. Embarrassment coursed through you. They saw you weak again, you weren’t as strong as you thought you had become.

You wished you could time travel, let yourself know that it’s not worth it to pick up the phone, maybe you should’ve gone on a trip by yourself for the first two weeks of summer, and leave your phone behind. The things you wished you could have done before you got to this moment made the tears fall faster. 

You locked the door to your room, feeling Damien’s presence hot on your heels as you rushed up the stairs. Talking to that little boy felt worse than speaking to anyone else.

You lay on your comforter, cradling yourself and tucking your legs into your chest. The emotions were too overwhelming, and the scenes played over in your head. You thought the dinner would be simple.

You wanted to just pop back into Gotham, show them how good your life was without them, and leave within the next two days. Deep down, it was evident that the random calls from unknown numbers, the calls from Bruce, and even asking you to return to Gotham were signs that something was amiss. All your achievements and change meant nothing when all you had to do was return to the manor to become a shell of yourself again. 

The manor was quiet now, and the sadness was dulling. You finally picked yourself up and walked to your dresser, getting a pair of pajamas. You changed and crawled under your sheets, reaching over to turn off your lamp.

Hours passed, and you still twisted and turned, falling in and out of sleep. Light began peaking through your window, and you groan restlessly. You didn’t want to spend another minute in Gotham with lunatics and the night came and went. 

You sit up finally, giving up on a full night of sleep. You needed to formulate a plan, how would you escape Gotham? Scratch that, how would you escape Batman and his super soldier vigilante children? You paced around in your room, there were cameras everywhere, among other things that would be able to detect you.

There was also the new-found hyperawareness of you that would be your biggest issue, you knew better than to think you could even leave your room without coming into contact with one of them in the hallway. 

You knew you needed to be realistic with your situation. You were dealing with Batman, Batman-level technology, Batman’s boys and girls, and you were the only one in the house without any training, so you can’t barge your way through the front door.

You didn’t want to play into heir shit either, nothing was forgiven or forgotten and the way Bruce and Damien handled you last night was infuriating. Incredibly painful as well, but there would be no more tears from you. 

When the sun hung higher in the sky, making Gotham a dull blue-grey, you finally left the safety of your room walking down the dimly lit hallway. You felt the cameras in the corners, the ones hidden in plain sight, how they zeroed in on you.

You ignored the desperate feeling in your legs, wanting to run and take you as far as they could. In the kitchen, you searched for something easy, wanting to be in and out in case all of them were still here. The top shelf held yogurt, so you reached for that when you turned around, you almost dropped it due to coming face to face with Jason. 

His eyes were hardened as usual and he dwarfed you completely. You try walking around him, but he reaches out and you jump back into the cool metal doors of the fridge. You refused to shrink into yourself and puff your chest looking him right in the eyes. He notices your behavior immediately, a smirk pulls onto his face. “ Y/n, the big apple changed you. You used to be so shy.” 

“ What do you need, Jason?”

“ Nothing...nothing it’s just—you’ve grown up.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to walk away from him again but he lightly grabbed your arm. You look down to his hand then to him before yanking yourself away.

He gripped you again, yanking you back and slamming you softly into the fridge, making you drop our yogurt. Your eyes widen when he begins speaking, “ You know, it’s impolite to walk away when someone is speaking to you. Or has partying and acting like you’re an adult got you forgetting your manners?”

“ The fuck are you talking about–”

“ You forget who you’re dealing with? You forget your daddy is Batman? You think we weren’t going to find out everything you did in New York, baby bird?”

You opened your mouth to speak but a few grunts from behind Jason stopped you. He rolled him eyes and released you letting you see Bruce and Dick. Both of their arms crossed, and you stood there defiantly. “ As Jason was saying, we found out about the partying, the weed, everything,” Dick explained rubbing the back of his head while his ears turned red. 

“ That’s your fault,” you scoff.

“ Y/n you can’t possibly think that dad is going to let you just run back to the city–”

“ I can do as I please! My entire life you people never even gave a fuck whether or not I was alive and now you’re all being weird and fucking crazy. Which is the main reason I left in the first place!” 

“ Sweetheart,”

“ No. Stop with the weird pet names that you have never once called me. I don’t want this, whatever you’re trying to do leave me alone. I’ve always been alone and I’m not going to let you invade my new happy life.” You scream.

The tears welling into your eyes again but you refuse to let them fall. Their faces drop seeing the tears, the remorse and guilt settling further in. The way you looked speaking to them with your heart arose possession. 

Your tears framed your face making you look like the child they all remembered, you were obviously still that child and you needed the protection, love, and support from you family. They would never allow you to be surrounded by such obvious bad influences again.

They made you drink, smoke, and act in ways no girl your age should be acting. Bruce walked over to you, brushing a hand through your hair, “ Sweetheart, I want to apologize for how I treated you, and I want you to understand that we are not doing this to hurt you.”

🏷️: @jaybunsblog @galaxypurplerose @bellethesleepypotato @jsprien213 @mona1704 @hopingtoclearmedschool

[sanjisluvbot]

Mark x Eve x Spider Reader blurb

A/N: Okay, I have been trying to write something for five hours! I have a few more drafts but I’m drawn by the Spider reader rn. Lmk what you think so far!

You couldn’t open your eyes. You felt their arms around you and the rest of the nakedness of their bodies. Regret seeped into your veins and you wondered how you were going to get out without notice.

You felt Eve’s hair cascade over your face when she snuggled into your neck. The heaviness and muscle of Mark’s arm was draped over both your waists. You had to stop yourself from groaning. The events from last night all coming back in a wave of deep dread.

Mark pulled you close, letting his hands trail your body. You shiver when Eve begins removing your suit with her powers. Your head darts down when your mask is removed, why were you allowing this knowing your mission. Your eyes squeeze shut as hands continue to roam and squeeze making warmth pool into your heat.

Your eyes open for a moment and your eyes connect with green. Her hands trail from your thighs slowly until a finger connects, and you intake a sharp breath. Marks assault on your neck follows to your breasts.

Quietly you remove Mark’s arm and wiggle out of Eve’s embrace. Luckily she rolled into Mark and you were able to find your Gizmo on the dresser along with your costume neatly folded on the side of the bed.

You heard a shuffle and froze looking over seeing Mark pull Eve closer. You let out a breath and quickly changed using your web to open the window. You gave them one last look before jumping into the portal.

[sanjisluvbot]

Mark x reader x eve 😗

I haven’t seen that yet omg

[sanjisluvbot]

Posting soon !!! I just started the semester so I’m trying to adjust but I have been writing in between I swear !!!!

[sanjisluvbot]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Take Me Home

⋆.˚ PAIRING: Mark Grayson Variants/Reader

⋆.˚ SYNOPSIS: The chaos of the past few days has been indescribable. The world, shaken to its core, is now in a state of panic. The Invincible variants—once a symbol of hope, now ominous harbingers of a twisted fate—have revealed their plan to the world. They’ve openly declared that Y/n L/n, the one person who could tip the scales, is the reason for the madness that’s consuming reality itself.

⋆.˚ NOTES: Posting this while editing CH 3 of Intuition. If you'd like a full fic please let me know and you can expect it within a week!! I might change some things, but this is my current base!! ENJOY ♡

The world had gotten used to the impossible happening. After Omni-man revealed himself to be a mass murdering villain among all types of creatures and monsters roaming the earth, humanity became jaded. The screams and destruction woke you bright and early that day, maniacal laughter eerily familiar to your ex-boyfriend brought you to the window. 

There was not one, not two, but multiple people destroying the planet under the name of ‘Invincible’. You and your family made it safely to the bunkers with the rest of the scared, tired, and confused. The government allowed everyone to see with their own eyes the destruction of everything humanity worked for millions of years to be easily destroyed in less than twenty-four hours. 

“ Oh god… Mark,” you whisper to yourself. 

Although the world was shaken to its core, even now in a state of panic and fear there were still some bold enough. News reporters going as far as to film on top of buildings that still stood tall to get a closer look at the multiple Invincibles. However, being bold means potentially getting unwanted attention. The camera focused on one of the invaders destroying a prison when he finally caught eye with someone he has yet to tear in half. 

A devious smirk and in a split second the camera fell, gasps surrounded the room as people gathered around the tv screen. The screen was no longer in focus and you could only make out feet and the background of fire and rubble. You could hear the poor man losing his life, gurgling on his own blood while the bastard laughed. Once the gurgling stopped and the blood painted the camera lens crimson the body was tossed aside. 

The camera was picked up, you could only make out his smile before he wiped the lens with his finger smudging the blood to the left. “ oooh Y/n, where are you hiding— Get outta here!” 

The screen went black and everyone around you began to scramble. You were stuck in place. That was Mark, not your Mark but a Mark with his hair shaved into a mohawk and bags under his eyes that made him look like a complete psychopath. There were many questions but the one simple one that made your heart race. 

Why.

Why was he searching for you. 

You and Mark had made the difficult decision to break up almost a year ago, and the two of you moved on. Thinking about your past while trembling in this present as everyone began to whisper about what they’d just seen. Eyes turned to you, was there a possibility they were talking about Y/n L/n who was hiding out with them. Your parents quickly shut the rumors down, but the people began to avoid you until they couldn’t anymore. 

“ You have no proof! Other than the fact that the maniac on the screen was talking about someone with the same name! You can’t just harass my daughter!” Your poor sweet mother yelled. 

The crowd surrounded you and your family, you felt sympathy and regret they were simply scared. However, as your mother said, they can’t just harass you and your family when all they had was a name without a face. 

The madness continued, the chaos turned people against anyone with the name Y/n across the globe. The GDA not only had to deal with the death, the destruction of humanity, and multiple versions of one of the strongest men in the universe, but they needed to find Y/n. They were able to gain control of the media being broadcasted, all of the Mark’s were searching for the same person, letting you know that the longer you hide the worse it would get. 

Cecil sighed to himself. Half of his hero’s dead or in critical conditions all because of one person. He felt bad for Mark, but this just furthered his desire to have a weapon strong enough to deal with the kid if need be. When Mark arrived battered up having fought himself for hours on end Cecil asked him who Y/n was, just to see if he’d lie. 

“ Y/n… is my ex girlfriend. I don’t know where she is–”

“ Don’t worry about it, we found her already.”

“ What? Where is she– is she okay?”

“ She’s fine Mark, and so is her family, why don’t you go check on Eve.”

Mark felt relieved that you hadn’t been found by his counterparts, he couldn’t live with himself knowing you were possibly hurt by him even if it was a different version. He quickly went to check on Eve while Cecil made a hard decision. 

When the GDA came to the compound they told everyone things would be alright soon, and picked you and your family up telling everyone that you were just going into extra protection. The people felt relief as they no longer had a target on their back.

Under the guise of providing safety you and your parents followed them. You couldn’t ease the uncertainty though, were they really trying to protect you or were they protecting the innocents without the name Y/n? The pentagon was intimidating, a lump in your throat formed with the seriousness of your situation beginning to dwell on you. You grabbed onto your mother’s hand and she squeezed, providing you the comfort she always did. 

Now that you were far from the eyes of the public you were forcefully separated from our parents. Tears forming in your eyes as you’re pushed into a sterile white room. Cecil sat in front of you motioning you to sit and as you did armed officers appeared from thin air. Large rapid fire guns pointed directly at your chest and head. The silence of the room is suffocating, and it’s as though time itself is holding its breath. 

You were hyperventilating in full hysterics, Cecil could do little to comfort you. His face is tight, full of regret, but his voice is steady. "Y/n," he begins, his words laced with an apology that he can’t fully express, "I’m sorry it had to come to this. But you have to understand, this is about earth’s survival. Think of the billions of people who have been murdered over the last two days. If you’re handed over to them, they’ll stop the destruction. It’s the only way to save what we have left."

“ How can you be so sure? How can you be so sure that they won’t just rip me in half and leave this planet disintegrated.” you argue.

“ Because I’ve already come to an agreement with them.”

Before you could question anything else you were blinded by a light beyond your comprehension and then everything went dark. 

The first thing you felt was the wind, running through your hair while the sun warmed your cheeks. Rough hands cradle you into a sturdy chest and you lean into the familiarity, letting out a soft sigh when you realize it was Mark. He came to save you, take you away from the GDA and away from the evil versions of him. “ Oh, Y/n you’re even cuter on this earth.”  

The chaos of the past few days has been indescribable. The world, shaken to its core, is now in a state of panic. The Mark variants—once figures of influence, now ominous harbingers of a twisted fate—have revealed their twisted plan to the world. They’ve openly declared that Y/n L/n, the one person who could tip the scales, is the reason for the madness that’s consuming reality itself. The world has descended into a frenzy of desperate attempts to find her, each moment pushing humanity further toward the edge of its own unraveling.

The government has been scrambling to restore order, but in truth, it’s been a helpless race against time. The Global Defense Agency (GDA) gets involved, but not to protect Y/n, as she first thought. No, their involvement is a calculated move. Under the guise of providing safety, they’re planning to turn Y/n over to the Mark variants to ensure the earth’s survival. The GDA has long believed that the Marks hold the key to stopping the chaos—and they’re willing to sacrifice one person to preserve the greater good.

Y/n is brought into a fortified government building, far from the eyes of the public, and led into an ominous, sterile room. She can feel the weight of every eye upon her, even though there is no one there. The silence of the room is suffocating, and it’s as though time itself is holding its breath.

Cecil, the GDA operative who had been an ally, stands before her. His face is tight, full of regret, but his voice is steady. "Y/n," he begins, his words laced with an apology that he can’t fully express, "I’m sorry it had to come to this. But you have to understand. The Marks—they hold the balance. If you’re handed over to them, they’ll stop the destruction. It’s the only way to save everything."

Y/n feels a surge of anger, betrayal, and fear in her chest. The only way to save everything? Her mind races through every possibility, every outcome, but one thing remains clear: this is no longer just about saving the world. This is about survival, about sacrificing herself to a twisted fate or becoming the puppet of beings that have already caused irreparable harm.

Cecil’s face hardens, though his eyes flicker with a sense of sadness. "You can either be the good guy, or you can save the world. But you can’t do both."

The words echo in her mind as the walls seem to close in around her. The good guy, or the world? The weight of her decision has never been heavier. She knows what has to happen. The choice is excruciating, but it’s becoming clear that there may not be another way.

Y/n's mind flashes to the alternate versions of Mark—those who have been wreaking havoc, making themselves into shadows of their former selves. They are no longer just individuals; they have become symbols of the madness that has consumed reality. But what if they could be stopped? What if there was a way to break the cycle? What if she could find a way to shut down the alternate versions of Mark without sacrificing herself or falling into their trap?

She stands tall, her eyes locked with Cecil’s. "If I go to them, there’s no guarantee they’ll stop. What if they want more than just the world? What if I’m their ultimate prize?"

Cecil hesitates, clearly torn. He can’t answer her. He doesn’t know the full truth either. All he knows is what the higher-ups in the GDA have told him—what they believe. But Y/n feels it now: the truth is slipping through their fingers, and her fate is slipping further away with every passing second.

"Tell me," she demands, her voice quivering with a mixture of fear and determination, "how many others have they done this to? How many people have sacrificed themselves to them already? How many more will there be?"

Cecil remains silent. He doesn’t have an answer for that. But he knows what she means. The Marks have already been through countless others—versions of people, lives torn apart, worlds left in ruin. Y/n feels the weight of all those lost possibilities pressing down on her.

And then, in that moment, a new resolve fills her. She can’t let this be the end of everything. She won’t let herself become another pawn in their game. There has to be another way. She can stop the alternate Marks. She has to.

With every ounce of strength she has left, she turns away from Cecil. "I won’t be the prize they want me to be. I’ll find another way. I’ll stop them."

Cecil calls out, his voice pleading, "Y/n, don’t—"

But she’s already gone, slipping into the shadows of the building. She may be alone now, but her mind is clearer than it’s ever been. It’s time to end this—her way.

The stakes are higher than ever, and the final confrontation looms, but the fate of the world lies in the hands of one person: Y/n L/n. Will she find a way to destroy the alternate Marks and save herself, or will she be forced to make the ultimate sacrifice to prevent reality from unraveling completely? The clock is ticking, and there’s no turning back now

[sanjisluvbot]

Within the last few days I’ve been seeing Invincible variant fics and I’m reluctant to release mines 😭😭 why tf we all having the same IDEA!!!

Edit : HERE DAMN !! ( lovingly )

[sanjisluvbot]

Someone write a Mohawk mark fic, he’s a little gremlin and I love him !!!

[sanjisluvbot]

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· Intuition

Previous || Next

-`♡´- PAIRING: Yandere Batfam / Neglected Black fem reader

-`♡´- LINK TO: Masterlist

-`♡´- SYNOPSIS: All you've ever been was ignored, so why not move to a new city. Everything was glitter and gold till that phone call you decided to finally pick up. From nothing you quickly became their most important something, but this, this was no regular 180. This family was drowning you, begging every waking moment for a forgiveness you don't see yourself handing out.

-`♡´- NOTES: I hope ch 2 is enjoyed as much as ch 1!!!! Not completely edited ( sorrryyy) MWuah! Oh, taglist is still open !!! Also, no warnings yet because it's not that scary

The hours flew by, and you distracted yourself from your previous encounter with your father by attempting to continue your painting. Darkness began to overtake Gotham like a blanket of death and your inspiration was stuck in the big apple.

You were dreading this ‘dinner’ and the discussion that apparently needed to be had in front of the whole family. Was this a sick way of humiliating you for trying to move on from them? Was your escape to New York so angering that they needed to drag your back to the city and remind you of their existence.

You showered off the new version of you. Digging into your closet, finding the girl you used to be. Dark colored tops, dresses, everything, dark and depressing. You shrugged on something neat, something you saw akin to armor to deflect the painful remarks and ridicule you're expected to face. Dinner got closer and soon you were called by Alfred, beginning your trudge to the dining room. 

Getting closer you heard distant laughs. Bile begging to rise to your throat. Dick and Tim laughing at whatever psycho shit came from Jason’s mouth, two distinct female laughter rang your ears into oblivion as well.

When you stepped into the room you swore you could hear your own blood rushing through your ears. Their eyes all piercing, expectant of you. Wordlessly you sat down keeping your head high facing the door to the kitchen where Alfred was thankfully walking out with drinks. 

They all drank in your appearance. They pretended to continue their chatter, but kept quieter, wanting to observe you. You finally looked like the girl they remembered only with radiant skin and a different hairstyle. Your clothes held a different fit as well, but the boys were trying their best to pretend you hadn’t put on a few sizes since the last time they truly paid attention to you.

Or maybe they were trying to pretend you weren’t the girl they relentlessly bullied and pushed past for a decade. No one wanted to speak up first, each and everyone, besides Damien, were anxiously anticipating Bruce’s arrival. 

The young boy observed you intensely, Head to toe, from your outfit when you first arrived to the little facial twitches you made interacting awkwardly with your father. He was enamored at your complete 180. Your timid behavior and crying over the way your siblings fooled around had angered him, he couldn’t understand why you would behave so childishly in a family like the Wayne's.

He noticed the way you were still shrinking away from them, pretending you were an innocent victim. He remembered the other day going through the computer in the bat cave, seeing all the extensive research they had done on you. 

His heart racing in pure anger seeing as you let men grope and kiss you ass soon as you left the manor. He sneered at you with just that memory and your eyes widened finally picking up his radar. Surprisingly you rolled your eyes at his behavior. Just as he was about to speak he heard the sound of his father’s heavy footsteps. 

Bruce sat down with all his children, happy to be once again surrounded by those who gave him the will to live. His eyes landed on you, in your old clothes looking as pretty as one of your paintings. Which reminded him he never got to look at the one you were currently working on due to his nerves. His confidence grew with the rest of his children in the room with him. The conversation tonight would begin the mending of your relationship with the entire family.

Alfred began bringing plates out and Bruce pondered on whether he or Dick should begin the conversation. What was found on your phone, whether or not you’d be returning to New York in September, how to begin the apology for not treating you like family for as long as you’d been here. He sighed to himself as he poured gravy onto his plate, your reaction to anything they needed to say tonight will go only one way. 

Earlier during the day the Batcave was occupied by Dick and Bruce. Silently working, waiting for one another to spark the conversation about you. Dick already knew Bruce wouldn’t start first so with a huff he swiveled his chair and rolled over to his side, “ We need to figure out how to begin the conversation later. Should we start with an apology or go straight into telling her off about the bullshit we found in her phone?” Bruce grunted angrily thinking about your behavior in some of these videos. “ I don’t want her to become too upset, but I am her father and you’re her older brother—I just can’t believe the way she acted!” 

“ Stop mentioning that, I don’t want to be angry for the rest of the day.”

“ I think we can ease into it all by talking about her public media, congratulate her, and then maybe she’ll be so happy she will understand when we mention not returning to New York!” 

The two were quickly forming a plan. 

The dinner dragged on, the weight of each passing second sinking deeper into your chest. The conversations around you felt hollow, their forced laughter and thinly veiled curiosity only amplifying the discomfort. Each member of the family studied you with an intensity that unsettled your nerves. Even Damien, the youngest of them all, couldn't stop watching you like a hawk, his dark eyes piercing through the veil of your calm exterior.

You couldn’t help but feel the undercurrent of tension. You could sense that they had been discussing you before you arrived—hell, you knew they had. The way they looked at you now was different, more calculating, as if you were some puzzle they were eager to solve. You clenched your fists under the table, trying to keep your composure.

Bruce was talking now, his tone warm, almost overly so, as he praised your work—your art, your paintings, your social media presence. You felt the air in the room grow thicker with each compliment, the undertone of admiration from your father felt almost too affectionate. But you couldn’t pinpoint why. It was when he mentioned your “public media presence” that you felt the first cold prickle run down your spine.

“Y/n,” he began again, leaning forward as though eager to engage you, “You’ve been doing so well, haven’t you? You’ve truly blossomed. The way you’ve built your own life away from Gotham—it's impressive. The way you’ve grown... you’ve become a woman, haven't you?”

His words felt too sharp, too scrutinizing, this couldn’t be the same man who barely glanced at you six months ago when you said you were leaving for New York.. The back of your neck prickled with an uncomfortable heat. You could feel their gazes intensifying as they looked at you, as if they were all waiting for something—waiting for you to fall into their trap.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. You were used to compliments on your work and achievements… just from other people. It had been so long since anyone in this room had complimented you like this, in fact, they never complimented you. Something was very wrong tonight and yet, the way they spoke about you now made you feel a warm tingle, as though you were a person to them, someone they truly loved. 

Bruce continued, his voice softer, “I think we can all agree that you’ve done well for yourself. But…” He hesitated, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place. “There are still some things we need to discuss. Things that can’t be left in the past, like your time here in Gotham, and... well, your future. You don’t want to stay in New York forever, do you?”

His words hit you like a punch to the stomach. Your intuition was always right. The thought of going back to live in Gotham, back to that suffocating manor, back to being the girl in the shadows felt like a prison sentence. You had found your freedom—your space. You had begun to heal, to find yourself, and now, they were pulling you back into their world, a world you had never fit into.

“I—” you started to speak, but your voice faltered under the weight of the stares not wanting to anger them. “I’m fine where I am. I’m happy in New York.”

Bruce’s smile remained, but it no longer held any warmth. It was darker, more predatory. His gaze lingered on your face, calculating, almost like he was looking past you, into the future he was trying to map out for you. “You don’t have to worry about that. You’ll be home soon. It’s just a matter of time. A family needs to stay together, Y/n. We have a lot of healing and apologizing to do.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. His tone made your heart race, the chill creeping up your spine turning into a full-on shiver. You couldn’t look at him any longer. Eyes turned down to the table, anger and fear coursed through you.

Your father spoke as though there was no reasoning behind your leaving, as if you were some defiant teenager trying to get a rise out of daddy. The affection within his words, affection he never had for you even when you first arrived at his front door was laced in something sick and possessive.

Anger washed over your features when you lifted your head. His eyes held love, all the love you wished you had, the love every one of your siblings received all these years. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, breathing through your nose before putting on a fake smile. “I’m not sure what you mean, but I’m happy where I am,” you said, smile twitching.

Your attempt to brush off his words only seemed to intensify his focus. The others—Dick, Tim, and Jason—watched you in silence, their expressions unreadable. Jason’s eyes narrowed in a way that made your skin crawl, while Barbra and Cass exchanged a look, the kind of look siblings share when they know something is about to get ugly.

Bruce leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low murmur, barely audible over the sound of the clinking silverware. “We’ve been keeping track of you, Y/n. Of your social media, your friends. We want to make sure you’re safe, protected. You don’t need to be with those people, you know. You belong here, with us. You’ve always belonged here.”

You recoiled at his words, a sick feeling settling in your stomach. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks—they were treating you like one of their villains. All this time, they had been watching, following your every move, like predators circling their prey. The thought of them lurking in the shadows of your life made you sick to your core. 

But before you could finish, Damien cut in, his voice laced with venom. “You’re not even really a part of this family. You’ve always been difficult—a distraction. And now you think you can just live however you want? As if you don’t owe us anything?”

Your eyes snapped to Damien, your blood running cold. The way he spoke, the way his words cut through the air—this was why you had left without word. They didn’t care about you; they only cared about controlling you as they easily control Gotham. And now that you had escaped, they were trying to drag you back, to reclaim what they thought was rightfully theirs. 

You stood up abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I don’t want this. I don’t want any of this!” you shouted, your voice breaking with the emotion you had been holding in for so long. The room fell into a stunned silence as you backed toward the door, your pulse pounding in your ears. “I’m not coming back. I’m not staying here. I don’t belong with you.”

Before you could make it to the door, Bruce was there, his hand slapping into the door and the other gripping your wrist with a surprising force that made you stumble. “Y/n, you’re staying home. You don’t get to make these decisions, you’re still a child. We’re family. You don’t get to run away from us, we’re trying to fix our relationship.”

“ Fuck you, you decide nothing! You never once cared about me or shit I’ve done in my life—any of you!”

His grip tightened, you winced at the reminder of who he was, at your wince he released the tight hold, not fully letting you go. This wasn’t about love—it was about control. About ownership. He doesn’t care about you, not truly. Not until you had made your escape, made them remember that you were alive.

Damien moved to block the door, your eyes tracking the shining silver tucked into his hand, his eyes gleamed with malicious intent. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The others were closing in now, like wolves circling their prey. Dick, Jason—they all stood together, silent, but the weight of their presence was suffocating. Your vision began to blur, the familiar feeling of anxiety keeping you paralyzed.

“You can’t keep me here,” you whispered, panic rising in your chest.

Bruce’s smile was cold, calculating. “Oh, but we can. You know that very well. I didn’t want dinner to turn out this way sweetheart, so please, sit down and we can talk about this. Like family should. ”

And before you could react, Damien was upon you, his hands gripping your arms as he pulled you back into your seat with force a child his age shouldn't have. Your heart pounded in your chest, your instincts screaming at you to escape, but there was no way out and there was nowhere to run without one of them catching you.

“You’re stuff will be delivered back to Gotham in the next few days. Next week we can look into one of Gotham's art schools, doesn’t that sound fantastic sweetheart?” Bruce said softly, his voice laced with a terrifying finality. “And we can plan a family trip for the summer, all of us together, no matter what.”

The walls closed in around you, and the air grew thick with the way smiles grew onto everyone’s face. Your life in New York, your freedom, was nothing but a fleeting dream. You sat in your chair, tears falling from your eyes as you tried to hold back your sobbing. They all went back to eating, chatting with one another as if nothing went down, as if they couldn’t hear the way you sobbed into your sleeve. 

“ I hate you,” you whisper.

Bruce stops chewing, looking up at you through his lashes. “ I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t want to be rough with you.” He says, remorse in his voice. 

When dinner ended, you quickly got up, rushing out of the dining room. Embarrassment coursed through you. They saw you weak again, you weren’t as strong as you thought you had become.

You wished you could time travel, let yourself know that it’s not worth it to pick up the phone, maybe you should’ve gone on a trip by yourself for the first two weeks of summer, and leave your phone behind. The things you wished you could have done before you got to this moment made the tears fall faster. 

You locked the door to your room, feeling Damien’s presence hot on your heels as you rushed up the stairs. Talking to that little boy felt worse than speaking to anyone else.

You lay on your comforter, cradling yourself and tucking your legs into your chest. The emotions were too overwhelming, and the scenes played over in your head. You thought the dinner would be simple.

You wanted to just pop back into Gotham, show them how good your life was without them, and leave within the next two days. Deep down, it was evident that the random calls from unknown numbers, the calls from Bruce, and even asking you to return to Gotham were signs that something was amiss. All your achievements and change meant nothing when all you had to do was return to the manor to become a shell of yourself again. 

The manor was quiet now, and the sadness was dulling. You finally picked yourself up and walked to your dresser, getting a pair of pajamas. You changed and crawled under your sheets, reaching over to turn off your lamp.

Hours passed, and you still twisted and turned, falling in and out of sleep. Light began peaking through your window, and you groan restlessly. You didn’t want to spend another minute in Gotham with lunatics and the night came and went. 

You sit up finally, giving up on a full night of sleep. You needed to formulate a plan, how would you escape Gotham? Scratch that, how would you escape Batman and his super soldier vigilante children? You paced around in your room, there were cameras everywhere, among other things that would be able to detect you.

There was also the new-found hyperawareness of you that would be your biggest issue, you knew better than to think you could even leave your room without coming into contact with one of them in the hallway. 

You knew you needed to be realistic with your situation. You were dealing with Batman, Batman-level technology, Batman’s boys and girls, and you were the only one in the house without any training, so you can’t barge your way through the front door.

You didn’t want to play into heir shit either, nothing was forgiven or forgotten and the way Bruce and Damien handled you last night was infuriating. Incredibly painful as well, but there would be no more tears from you. 

When the sun hung higher in the sky, making Gotham a dull blue-grey, you finally left the safety of your room walking down the dimly lit hallway. You felt the cameras in the corners, the ones hidden in plain sight, how they zeroed in on you.

You ignored the desperate feeling in your legs, wanting to run and take you as far as they could. In the kitchen, you searched for something easy, wanting to be in and out in case all of them were still here. The top shelf held yogurt, so you reached for that when you turned around, you almost dropped it due to coming face to face with Jason. 

His eyes were hardened as usual and he dwarfed you completely. You try walking around him, but he reaches out and you jump back into the cool metal doors of the fridge. You refused to shrink into yourself and puff your chest looking him right in the eyes. He notices your behavior immediately, a smirk pulls onto his face. “ Y/n, the big apple changed you. You used to be so shy.” 

“ What do you need, Jason?”

“ Nothing...nothing it’s just—you’ve grown up.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to walk away from him again but he lightly grabbed your arm. You look down to his hand then to him before yanking yourself away.

He gripped you again, yanking you back and slamming you softly into the fridge, making you drop our yogurt. Your eyes widen when he begins speaking, “ You know, it’s impolite to walk away when someone is speaking to you. Or has partying and acting like you’re an adult got you forgetting your manners?”

“ The fuck are you talking about–”

“ You forget who you’re dealing with? You forget your daddy is Batman? You think we weren’t going to find out everything you did in New York, baby bird?”

You opened your mouth to speak but a few grunts from behind Jason stopped you. He rolled him eyes and released you letting you see Bruce and Dick. Both of their arms crossed, and you stood there defiantly. “ As Jason was saying, we found out about the partying, the weed, everything,” Dick explained rubbing the back of his head while his ears turned red. 

“ That’s your fault,” you scoff.

“ Y/n you can’t possibly think that dad is going to let you just run back to the city–”

“ I can do as I please! My entire life you people never even gave a fuck whether or not I was alive and now you’re all being weird and fucking crazy. Which is the main reason I left in the first place!” 

“ Sweetheart,”

“ No. Stop with the weird pet names that you have never once called me. I don’t want this, whatever you’re trying to do leave me alone. I’ve always been alone and I’m not going to let you invade my new happy life.” You scream.

The tears welling into your eyes again but you refuse to let them fall. Their faces drop seeing the tears, the remorse and guilt settling further in. The way you looked speaking to them with your heart arose possession. 

Your tears framed your face making you look like the child they all remembered, you were obviously still that child and you needed the protection, love, and support from you family. They would never allow you to be surrounded by such obvious bad influences again.

They made you drink, smoke, and act in ways no girl your age should be acting. Bruce walked over to you, brushing a hand through your hair, “ Sweetheart, I want to apologize for how I treated you, and I want you to understand that we are not doing this to hurt you.”

🏷️: @jaybunsblog @galaxypurplerose @bellethesleepypotato @jsprien213 @mona1704 @hopingtoclearmedschool

[sanjisluvbot]

I have an ask abt my Raian series and OP series… I promise you I have not forgotten or given up on any of my series !!! But, I’m not going to post something for a series that comes straight from my ass. I’m trying to atleast work on two chapters before I upload anything. And in the meantime I’m exploring new fandoms !! 🫶🏽🫶🏽 without doubt I will upload.

[sanjisluvbot]

Intuition

Masterlist

Yandere Batfam Blurb

Next

The pain faded when you turned sixteen, only having a phantom ache when one more stray was added to your ‘family’. There was no reason to wonder why they were so uninterested in your life, for as long as you could remember, they had been creatures of the night, and you were the anomaly. Oddly enough.

At first, they tried to integrate you into their lifestyle, but it was hard when all you craved was love, affection, and a place to call home. So they grew uninterested. The worst you ever felt was hearing snide remarks and playground bullying just because you were different. 

Your interest lies in the arts that weren’t comparable to figuring out the Riddler's plans or stopping the Joker. To the world, you were most impressive, but after a while even the praise from others meant nothing. Resentment grew easily of course, being giggled at when you left the room was beyond degrading and insufferable. But when offered a spot in one of New York’s best schools for the arts, every memory that left you crying leaped clean off your chest.

A brand new start in a new city—the best city— is exactly what you need. Packing was a challenge as you couldn’t bring the heart to throw away everything and leave without a suitcase and a part of you felt like you would return to the manor one day, so you left everything reminding you of Gotham. 

The last thing on your plate before you left would be telling Bruce. You stalked down the gothic halls filled with priceless paintings and old photos, elated, you planned to simply ask for money and be out of his hair.

No more crying, pleading, begging your pseudo father to have interest shown towards you. You knocked on the door to his office, waiting patiently before he let out a tired grunt to come in. He looked up at you, gaze meeting, his eyes lingering for only a second before focusing back on his papers.

“ Y/n.”

“ Father, I need money for a flight to New York.”

He paused his writing, looking up at you curiously. You went on to briefly explain that you were accepted into a new school and would be leaving later that night. You bit your lip anxiously, wondering why he suddenly looked so shocked by what you said, he had always known about your love for music, dance, and drawing, not that he truly paid any mind to your ‘senseless babbling’ as he would call it. 

“ Do you want one of my credit cards?” he questioned, finally redirecting his intense stare back to his work. 

“ Yes, that will do.” 

He hummed and shooed you away by telling you Alfred would give you everything you needed before your flight. Walking back to your room, that phantom pain visited your chest cavity. Even knowing you were leaving didn’t truly spark anything in him and you thought you knew better than to expect a reaction other than indifference. The little girl in you finally let the last ember of hope fade out that day.

  The flight to New York was brisk but you're glad you chose it. Alfred offered to just drive you, but it would be dreadful having to show your dorm and lifestyle change from the mansion. Although he wasn’t as unkind to you as the others, Alfred never once stopped the rude comments or showed interest in anything about you, not even in what you liked to eat. What was the point of having an uncomfortable ride? 

New York was exhilarating, the city is exactly as described and you couldn’t be more in love. The city was alive and electric, it breathed hopes and dreams to anyone who stepped inside. It was easy to make friends, the school was heavily social and you quickly settled into this new life.

Parties during spring break and recognition for your talents had you in a multitude of social circles you couldn’t even recognize the girl you had become. A newfound confidence in every stride and a smile that never left your face. Now and then you would get some calls, unknown numbers, plus a few in between those calls from Bruce.

It was strange but you ignored both, getting a new number all together because Bruce would never care about your slight over-the-top spending habits to call you about it. Maybe he was beginning to see what he was missing out on, oh well. The heat of the city was something you barely felt under all the smog of Gotham, the pollution seldom let you see the blue of the sky. 

New york was full of people who knew who they were, and what they wanted, and even if they were unsure they stood confident. You embraced it, dressing in clothes that would’ve had you outcasted in Gotham and its gothic glory, letting the colors dance on the bronze of your skin. The caterpillar finally became a butterfly, oh so radiant, that must be what drew everyone into you.

When the semester finally came to its end, furthermore, you had presented your final piece, performed a new play, sending off the graduates and the other students off with glee, you decided it was time for a vacation. “Y/n, do you have any plans for the summer?” your friend asked while the two of you lounged at a small cafe. 

“ I think we should go to the Hamptons if you don’t have anything planned.”

“ I’ll be overseas for the first two weeks of July, I would love to go in August.”

While you spent the first days of summer lounging under the sun, the bats were still surrounded by darkness, following their same routine. It was one of those days where everyone decided to linger around the cave.

Bruce was oddly glued to his phone screen even when his youngest son tried getting his attention by throwing a knife at him. Easily dodging and continuing to tap away only made the young boy angrier. “ Father, we need to continue training, what has you so distracted?” 

“ We can train later, Damien, I’m very busy,” he grumbles. 

All of his children suddenly stopped what they were doing, curiosity beginning to peak, could it be a new villain? The joker again? With one look from Dick to Jason to Tim his screen was easily pulled up onto the large monitor. It was a surprise to all when they saw your face, smiling and radiant all over the screen. “ Since when did Y/n have social media?” Barbra spoke up. 

“ Recently. Since she…moved to New York for school,” Bruce replied. On the screen, a video appeared, you were accepting an award for one of your paintings. The family became engrossed in the new life you had, telling Bruce to click comments and click on your friends' pages.

Jason was irritated, he can’t even remember the last time he saw you, and Bruce never told anyone you were just going to up and leave. “ Why didn’t you tell us she was going to New York? When did she even leave?” He barked at Bruce. Bruce sighed, looking up at him, “ Well, when she left we were dealing with Penguin and you weren’t around until two months ago so I just never got to it.” 

“Well, why didn’t you tell the rest of us? Dick or Tim could’ve told me if you told literally anyone else.” 

Bruce shrugged his shoulders, turning back to his screen, “ Well, now you know Jason, and so does everyone else.” Bruce was becoming agitated by questions, he wanted to continue looking at your little life you’ve been building, watching his little girl laugh and smile made him feel bittersweet.

He was beginning to realize how little time the two of you spent together and how he would ignore you whenever you tried to make a connection. He should be there giving you flowers and taking you sightseeing, but you left all on your own only asking for a credit card. The others went on their way, four of them becoming increasingly interested in this new and improved Y/n Wayne. 

After a grueling night, the four men of the bunch return to the manor, without word, they had Tim pull up everything involving you dating back five years. The pictures became sparse when you got younger, but it was evident you had always been obsessed with art no matter what form it took.

Hacking into your social media was angering, not just because of what they saw behind your public posts, but because of the ease of your passwords. Throughout your posts were dances, paintings, you at galleries, and you with friends… who were also bad influences to a sixteen year old girl. When diving deeper, they knew they might find things they didn’t like, such as videos on your google photos of you at parties.

All but one adorned red ears and everyone was forced to look away, not being able to bear witness to you being as reckless as they were at your age. Wanting to keep their image of you, their baby girl, squeaky clean. 

You painted your first days of summer away, relaxing in your dorm finally having some alone time for the first time in almost a year. It was the most peace you’ve had in life, you should’ve known there was no way in hell that this was truly your life now. 

Too good to be true. It was just too fuckin good to be true. As your first week of summer break ended and you were enjoying the breeze in central park your phone rang, looking down at your bright screen the caller ID read Bruce Wayne. Your scrunched your face, irritation filtering into your spirit. You answer trying your best not to sigh as he began speaking. 

“ Y/n, are you busy right now?” 

“ No Br-father,”

“ O-oh well I wanted to talk to you about returning to Gotham for a while.” Bruce spoke, trying to hide the fact that he was flabbergasted. You almost called him Bruce before quickly correcting yourself. New York has done a number on his baby girl.

You snatch the phone from your ear almost ferociously, return to gotham he said? Return to the place where you spent over a deade miserable? Someone better have died again for you to even consider something so preposterous. 

“ Um I don’t know if I can return any time soon, I have a trip planned and I’m working on a few paintings that I want to submit for a show in September.” You spoke.

He smiled into the phone, the slight waver of your voice let him know you were lying. He hummed thoughtfully, “ I’ll send Alfred over now and we can bring your paintings, and over dinner we will discuss this trip you plan on going on and with who.” You couldn’t hide your bewilderedness, you almost forgot you weren’t speaking to just anyone but Bruce Wayne. A billionaire who could make anything happen including but not limited to sending over his butler to gather his daughter’s painting in under an hour. 

“ I’m honestly just not too keen on being in Gotham—Listen father I have to get back to my work.” With that you hung up your phone rushing to the nearest exit of the park throwing out what was left of a drink you were carrying. You rushed to your dorm, not even to pack an over night bag but to simply gaze at it lovingly.

This space, this mini apartment meant the world to you and every part of it showcased memories old and new. In this moment non of it felt real, it was all dream like to you. 

The sun seeped in through the windows, reaching all the way to your ankles illuminating your dorm in a warmth that Gotham probably only experienced before the existence of humans. Your phone buzzed again and it was a message from Alfred letting you know he would be in front of your dorm in less than twenty minutes.

You bit your lip while a sense of dread washed over you. Such a familiar feeling but the last few months had you believing you’d never experience it again. You’d have to face Bruce and that whole godforsaken family again when you had just gotten used to thinking that part of your life had possibly been a figment of your imagination. 

You laugh at yourself, thoughts running amuck when you knew you now had fifteen minutes to back a bag and put your painting into something that wouldn’t damage it during the drive. You lull your head back and clap your hands before quickly moving around the apartment gathering your belongings. 

When the car pulled up your body fought itself. Run back inside, hide underneath your bed and turn off your phone pretend as if you’d ran away or maybe you didn’t hear— do something but don’t get in that car— do not go back to Gotham. You gave alfred a polite smile that vanished when you turned your head back to the road.

Small talk was even more aggravating when you genuinely didn’t want to associate yourself with people. Your grew angry when the drive was nearing its end, Gotham and New York were too close for your liking and you had little to no time to prepare and rehearse the made up conversations in your head. The manor came into view and your eyes almost buldged out of your head when Bruce was waiting for you outside the manor door with his youngest little goblin. 

You got out of the car, heels scrapping the pavement and extending you an extra pillar of strength. Your eyes met neither Bruce or Damien but you held your head high as they observe you. Bruce smiled at you walking over and embracing you. You were frozen in place. 

“ Y/n you look beautiful, I hope your ride was pleasant.” 

When he realized you weren’t moving to embrace him back he released you stepping back to look you in your eyes. Your lifted an eyebrow and side stepped him following Alfred into the manor trying to shake off the confusion within your spirit. The manor was dark and unwelcoming all but screaming at your bright colors to leave at once.

You grounded yourself with the sound of your heels stalking through the cold manor to your room feeling Damien and your father’s presence behind you. Alfred helped you settle into your room while the two watch, you felt like you were under a microscope from how hard their eyes burned into your every being and movement. 

“ Y/n why don’t you show your brother and I your new painting—”

“ Father can yo please just tell me what the fuck is going on? Why are you behaving as if you even care about a single thing I do? Why am I back at the manor and why on earth was it so important for me to get picked up almost immediately after your weird phone call?” You couldn’t stand another minute of this weird shit.

Why was hovering over you pretending like he cared about you? You knew who bruce Wayne was, especially the Bruce who presetented towards you, his odd child, the child who didn’t have any interest in being a vigilante. The chil he neglected and let get bullied and ridiculed by his other other children who thought she was a useless accessory for the Wayne’s public name.

Bruce sighed, he knew he shouldn’t have come on so strong right off the bat but he couldn’t help himself. He was enamored by the way you simply came out of the car like you couldn’t care any less to be here. You, one of his first children along with Dick whom he barely paid any attention due to his life as Batman.

He had no words that would southe you, he along with the rest of your siblings were riddled in guilt and admiration for you. He knew how the children spoke about you, but he never stepped in due to knowing that although they might sound harsh to outsiders the children were always somewhat jealous of your carefree life that they themselves know they could never have. 

Out of every kid you were the one who had absolutely no interest in him as Batman and becoming one of the vigilanties under his wing. You did whatever you wanted to do without thinking there is a possibility of your identity being revealed and you would need to spend all night fighting someone or something twice your size.

Bruce was only now realizing that you had been ostrasized from them, his baby probably thinking she was hated for simply existing. Without letting his small smile drop from his face he walked in your room further sitting on the edge of your bed. “ I called you because I knew summer had just started and I wanted you to come home, the manor has been empty without you as you know most of your siblings don’t live here anymore.” 

“ I’ll save the in depth version of this coversation for dinner as I have invited over the entire family to welcome you back… and Y/n, I care about you very much.” You gave him an incredulous look as he got up, pat your head, and walked out with Alfred and Damien.

The little demon only sparring you a glare once more before following his father. A wave of nausea unearthed itself in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: Thoughts…Prayers…. Concepts !!! :D

[sanjisluvbot]

Finished Invincible in a week, and I still don’t understand the hate the fandom has toward Amber. Other than… y’know, blatant racism.

[sanjisluvbot]

please donate and reblog to save our precious family dog, bambi

bambi has an infection in her blood caused by her oral health and it is spreading rapidly. she needs to get all her teeth removed so the infection can be stopped at the source. her condition is life threatening so anything helps and is very much appreciated, thank u ♡

update 2/3/25

bambi’s condition has gotten much worse and she is now extremely anemic. she needs a blood transfusion which will cost 3k-4k usd and we’re nowhere near our goal. i dont know how much time she has left so please donate!

[sanjisluvbot]

Papa me want more movie [aka yandere batfam]

I will deliver !!

[sanjisluvbot]

To update on this I was so sick you guys all last month and November WTF I HATE FLU SEASON BADDDDDD!!!! COVER YOUR MOUTHHHHHHHHH

Ya’ll I’m so sorry I ended up in the hospital :/

[sanjisluvbot]

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader

A/N: recently I've gotten into DC bc a new superman is coming out this summer! Along with getting Nightwing edits on my TT I have been seeing alot of Batfam and neglected reader ( why is y/n always neglected Lmfao). Anyways as I work on my other stories tell me how you enjoy this and if you want the finished product. See you wednesday!

The smell of fire filled your lungs and you begged all above to remove the burning filing through your nostrils. You lost track of where your mother was and hoped she made it out. The heat was intense and as more smoke encased itself in your tiny chest, time was running out and there was nothing left to do but lie on the wooden floor. Just as you thought you were closing your eyes for the last time there— in his dark glory— Batman. 

The dark knight finally came to save you, the rest was history. 

You wake in the hospital, a smiling nurse adjusting you and explaining everything to your tear-riddled doe-eyed self. Everything you’d ever known was erased, there was no trace of your mother and a man from Gotham decided to take little old you in. The smog of Gotham was different than New York, it lay on top of the city like a weighted blanket and made it all the more sinister. You arrived at the manor, biting your lip anxiously as it looked like the home of vampires and every other night creature you could think of. Two men were waiting for you when you stepped out of the car, both tall and sturdy-looking eyes hardened by the trials of life. The man with oceanic blue eyes stuck his hand out, eyes slightly softening when he noticed your apprehensiveness. You reached out and felt callouses and the warmth of his palms. 

He smiled at you introducing himself as Bruce Wayne, and then his butler, Alfred. They were both doting and kind, showering you with the affections left absent by your missing mother. You found yourself often in Bruce’s lap while he worked or in his bed crying into his chest when you were reminded of your mother during the night. Eventually, you begin to call him dad. Daddy’s sweet little girl is what they called you in Gotham. You were spoiled rotten and Bruce was constantly praised for saving you from a life filled with loneliness and the perils of poverty. 

As you got older Bruce became busier, and you no longer had the time to even cuddle and watch movies on rainy nights. You inquired with Alfred about what was different, and why had he become rather distant from you. Alfred reassured you every time, but you felt a pang in your heart when he introduced Dick Grayson into your little family. He spent almost all his time with Dick now, only sparing you a glance on the very off chance that he had a break. No one would be forward with you on what exactly was going on and, as much as it hurt and your tears soaked your pillows you never cried in front of a soul. The seeds of resentment were growing within you. 

Neglect and anger were apparent. Sometimes, when you linked eyes, you could see a glimmer of the father you once adored and spent every waking minute. You were infatuated with your father’s eyes, they held every word he didn’t whisper like he was wearing his heart on his sleeve. You hoped that even without blood relation you mimicked that feature, maybe save your relationship before it’s fully weaned.

Dick wasn’t that bad in the beginning, you welcomed him with slightly open arms and apprehension. He would entertain you and your heart would flutter when he smiled. But that did not stop your bond being severed without a care.

High school rolled around and your anger boiled over, having Dick be a year older and going to the same school was a nightmare. There was an obsession when it came to you, Bruce Wayne’s youngest, Dick Grayson’s little sister, no one left you alone. Dick would only acknowledge you if the boys cooed and whistled, not even in a way an older brother would be protective of his sister. It was more of a threat. A threat entangled with possessiveness. 

At one point you lashed out, upset at him for ruining your chances with a guy you were interested in. “ Dick, what the fuck is your issue? I liked him!” your yell echoed in the empty hallway. He looked down at you, an indescribable look and you furrowed your eyebrows urging him to answer. He looked away for a moment licking his lip before turning around without a word. 

There was that flutter again. It was wrong and with the excitement came the dread of fully understanding that flutter.

Lmk what you think !

[sanjisluvbot]

Happy holidays to everyone whose holiday isn’t what they want it to be. whether it is illness, poverty, distance from loved ones or something else that’s making things tough for you this year, i hope that you can find peace and warmth. i hope that your year will end and start on a brighter note