sitepathos

[sitepathos]

Give y/n his harem of men 🗣‼️‼️🙏

Sorry, unfortunately, you won’t be getting your harem in the From Gold to Mold verse. I’m afraid the stars just won’t align for that to happen.

But, I do have an announcement while we’re on the subject.

Since we’re so close to the end of From Gold to Mold, I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do afterwards. I’m not gonna lie, I wasn’t expecting to get so popular when i first started posting stuff. I started out just making CoD x HP stuff that I daydreamed about once and couldn’t get it out of my head and the next thing I know, I’m creating a Yandere Batfamily that so many people love!

It’s amazing!

But, lately I’ve been thinking about a new original series, but there’s two things that are keeping it in limbo.

One: since it’s essentially gonna be homoerotic, I’m not sure if many of you are gonna go for it. I mean, it’ll be a vast departure from what I’ve written so far.

And two: I’m aiming on making it mature, and I’m not sure if our Tumblr overlords will appreciate it.

But, let me know what you guys think. If you want it, let me know. If you’re interested, let me know and I’ll put together a little preview and post it. And if you’re not into it, let me know.

Seriously, I love getting feedback. It sustains me.

[sitepathos]

Will the Batfam be more open to Omega reader having a mate if it was with one of them? Since they're all about keeping him in the pack by all means, what better way that having him mated to one of them?

Would they go as far to consider that??

Oh yeah, pretty much EVERYTHING is on the table when it comes to Omegaverse, from Alpha parents mating with their Omega children to Alpha siblings mating with their Omega siblings, uncaring about the birth order or age gap.

And I mentioned Tim in one of my Omegaverse posts because while all of them would probably think of claiming you as a mate so they could bring you back to the manor, Tim would absolutely be the first to think of it and would already be drafting plans.

Seriously, this guy’s never even heard of personal space, so he’s immediately researching everything about you he can get his hands on, from analyzing what little was left behind in your old bedroom to studying the code of your video game. If it’s relating to you, he’s examining it to hell and back before putting it in the file he has on you on his computer under heaviest guard. He even buys all your Momma’s books ever wrote and reads them all three times, writing notes and highlighting entire paragraphs.

And you can bet your ass that once he’s ready to put his plan in action, he makes it known in the most public way possible. Probably when he’s being hounded by reporters on his way to Drake Industries.

“Mister Drake, do you have anything to say regarding your treatment towards your pack’s only Omega?”

“Only that I’m ashamed that I was too stupid to see that I was living with a treasure many would kill and die to possess and I wish to make amends with Y/N. Starting by announcing that I intend to begin courting him, starting today. I can only hope that he can find it in his heart to forgive me and give me a chance to prove my love for him.”

As expected, the entire world loses its shit once the news begins to circulate. For years, the media has asked each Alpha of the Wayne Pack when they intend to court an Omega and many have made it clear that they wish to be courted by the Waynes, but they always find a way of evading the question or saying they have other things they must attend to before they can court an Omega before excusing themselves, but now, a member of the Wayne Pack is publicly showing interest in an Omega and intends to court him!

Of course, it does not take long for you to hear about it and you are pissed!

You don’t even want to be in the same state as these people and now one of them is wanting to become your mate.

Before you know it, you have media outlets from all over Nevada and the surrounding states surrounding your house, taking pictures and yelling questions at you from the curb as you attempt to get in your car.

Of course, you’re not the only one pissed as everyone in the Wayne Pack loses their shit once they hear about it.

Bruce knows that if this succeeds, you’ll be back home, but he’s still your father and your Alpha (if only in his own delusional mind), so he sees Tim courting you without his permission as an insult and the two get into a fight once Tim gets home, but Alfred manages to separate the two of them before it gets physical.

Dick is angry that Tim would say such a thing in public. They’re a pack and such things should be discussed before doing something that can’t be undone. Also, he sees himself as your older brother, so the thought of someone showing any sort of interest in you is enough to make his hackles raise.

Barbara isn’t sure how to respond to the news. On one hand, she thinks this is a fast of way of bringing you back home and into the pack. On the other hand, however, she thinks it’s an underhanded and shameful tactic that no one in their right mind would ever consider (what does she expect, this is the Waynes we’re talking about).

Jason is fucking furious when he hears the news and plans to shoot both Tim’s kneecaps the moment he sees the bastard (Alfred puts a stop to that quickly). To him, you’re a person first before an Omega and you should be allowed to choose who you want to court you and not have some Alpha fuckhead decide from you. But… there’s a part of him that wishes he had thought of it first.

Steph laughs for a full ten minutes once she sees the news and the fallout that happens because of it. She lives for drama and this promises to deliver drama that she never thought she’d see in her wildest dreams. Of course, she’s pissed that Tim is using such sacred and action like courting to bring you back home and while she wants nothing more than for you to be back at the manor, she plans on giving Tim hell until everything’s said and done.

Cass knows this is probably the most efficient way to bring you back home since Omegas are required to accept an Alpha’s offer of courtship due to centuries of tradition, but she’s angry that someone like Tim is courting someone like you. She knows the two of you have nothing in common and you hate them enough to try to kill them, but if this brings you back into the pack, so be it.

Damian is planning to slit Tim’s throat in his sleep (although that might take a while since the guy practically never sleeps). You are a member of the Wayne bloodline and the thought of someone like Drake thinking he has any right to court you and knot you like some shameless mutt is repulsive to him. Besides, according to League tradition, your life is his thanks to him cutting you with his sword the first day you met (he regrets his actions everyday, but if it works in his favor, he’ll bear the guilt) and if anyone has the right to court you, it’s him!

With Tim courting you, you can expect multiple gifts to be delivered to your house on a daily basis (seriously, every delivery service in the state of Nevada hates you) and each gift falls into one of two categories: something you expressed interest in buying but choose to wait or something related to your interests.

For the first category, Tim is actively monitoring your internet activity; you wishlist a game on Steam, you see it’s already been bought for you an hour later. Or you look up a book and you have everything that author’s ever written on your doorstep. Or even researching what brand of headphones is best and every brand you looked at is being delivered to you by the end of the day.

For the second category, he’ll buy you anything that’s even remotely related to your interests. And he’ll go so overboard. For example, you have a favorite Pokémon? Well, now you have every plushie of that Pokémon available on the Pokémon Center, no matter how little or how small it is.

And of course, he’ll make regular visits to Nevada so the two of you can be seen in public. You can flip out, scream, hit, and threaten him all you want, he’ll still look at you with love in his eyes and a sincere smile gracing his face (that you begin to daydream beating to a pulp).

[sitepathos]

I am curious: since From Gold to Mold reader can shapeshift, couldn’t he sell everything he knows to Lex for a pretty penny, discard all his bugged electrics, etc then shapeshift, travel to country A, shapeshift again, repeat that a couple times and end up assuming someone’s identity somewhere far, far away from the sickos the Batfam?

Hmmm…

You MAY see that at the end of the series…

But who can say?

I know I can’t.

[sitepathos]

You know, each time reader from gold to mold thought of himself as an "average looking" person, is he aware that he's basically calling his ma the same thing? Cause it was mentioned a few times that he's taken his ma's genes more than Bruce's lol

Well, you know what they say: you are your own worst critic.

After years of neglect at the hands of the Bats, your sense of self-worth is pretty much nonexistent, so you can’t see yourself as anything that would catch anyone’s eye. Also, keep in mind that everyone in the Wayne Family is gorgeous, like all of them could be on the covers of various magazines. Spending most of your life surrounded by people like that while being completely glossed over, it wouldn’t be that out of the question to view yourself as unattractive.

Also, your Momma had confidence that made up much of her attractiveness. She held her head up high in life and was determined to provide for both you and herself, making her very attractive in people’s eyes. Unfortunately, your confidence was crushed over the span of thirteen years during your time at Wayne Manor.

You see similarities between you and your Momma, but you think all her attractive traits skipped you, leaving you with enough so that you tear up when you look in the mirror.

The Megamycete has told you many times that you are attractive and even offered to help you change your appearance so you can change how you look to whatever you want, but you’re adamant on staying how you look. By staying the way you are, some part of your Momma lives on.

[sitepathos]

OH DEAR AUTHOR!!!!! PLEASE UPDATE FROM GOLD TO MOLD AND I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL!!!!!!

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 13: The Talk

(A/N: I humbly accept your offer! With your soul in my possession, you feel slightly more empty than normal!)

Warning: this chapter will feature self-mutilation. Read at your own risk.

Alfred suppresses a sigh as he looks upon Master Bruce and his children crowding the Batcomputer, obsessing over the readings of the sample obtained from you that night in the Mojave Desert. When he, Master Dick, and Mistress Cassandra returned, Master Bruce refused to be confined to the infirmary, determined to analyze your blood as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

Then again, given the family’s obsession with you and their desire to bring you back to the manor, that might very well be the case.

When he reviewed the footage of the fight, Alfred was blown away at just how… ferocious you’ve become. Yes, he’s heard how every interaction with your father and siblings has gone, but he’s always excused that as years of unreleased anger and resentment coming out now that you could do so safely.

But taking a chunk out of your father’s arm? That took a rage he thought you incapable of.

However, unlike your family, he doesn’t think this “Megamycete” is controlling you; that night it came to visit them has stuck with him and while it’s a bit bizarre to converse with sentient fungus, Alfred really believes the two of you have formed some sort of symbiotic relationship (although he still wishes you were never put into a situation where you needed such a thing in the first place).

While he never admitted it, he noticed your behavior prior to you departing the manor had changed drastically. For most of your tenure at Wayne Manor, you walked through its halls as if they were a minefield, inching slowly as though the slightest misstep would lead to tragedy, and avoiding any room where Master Bruce and the other children were in. During your final days, however, you walked as though you had nothing to fear, uncaring if Master Bruce or any of your siblings were to discover you.

And then there’s your appearance, starting with the disappearance of the scar Master Damian gave you when the two of you met (oh, how his heart aches at how the events of that day unfolded). At first he just thought you found a way to hide it using some kind of concealer, but now he knows that the Megamycete must’ve healed you.

Of course, you look completely different now compared to four years ago, but he doesn’t think your transformation can be solely attributed to the Megamycete. For years, you suffered in the halls of the manor, forced to rely on an old man for company and learn to move about silently so as not to attract the attention of the rest of its inhabitants, so it would make sense that the toll of that kind of emotional and psychological stress would affect you physically.

Now, after living in Goodsprings and being away from them, you have a far healthier glow to you (although that could also be due to Nevada’s regular exposure to sunlight versus Gotham’s constant gloom) and carry yourself with a kind of pride he never expected of you.

And when he saw your speech at the award ceremony, he knew you were truly happy with your new life.

On one hand, he’s happy for you. You lost your mother at such a young age and it happened so suddenly that you weren’t able to say goodbye; on top of losing the only parent you’ve known, you were dragged to the other side of the country to live in a place you’d most likely never heard of before to live with a father you’ve never met before. And to top it all off, you spent over ten years living in a place that made it clear you weren’t welcome, that you were only here due to a legal obligation and not love.

If there’s anyone in the world that deserves a happy ending, it’s you.

But, on the other hand, he can’t let you go.

Out of everyone in the Wayne Family, you’re the only one who’s had a normal life, thus bringing a much needed balance to the manor; you’re a breath of fresh air to the eccentricity of his charges.

And, like it or not, you are a Wayne, therefore making you a member of the family. You belong here, in Gotham and with them.

With him.

And he thinks he knows how to bring you back home… or, at the very least, get you talking to them.

You glare at the blank notebook on your desk as if it had insulted your good name and debating on stabbing it a mold tendril with enough force to puncture both it and the desk it sits on.

(Doing that will not solve your current dilemma.)

“I know,” you whine before throwing the pen on the notebook and slouching into your chair. “But it’d be the only idea I’ve had and it would make me feel better.”

The problem you’re currently facing is coming up with your next game. Sure, Salvage Rights is still going strong and the Lost Paradise DLC has been received well, but gamers today are always looking for the next big release (you’ve had countless people flooding your business email asking about future games) and if you don’t keep your players satisfied, they’ll go back to CoD or Fortnite.

And while you’re proud beyond words about Salvage Rights and its success, you didn’t get into making video games just to be a one-game designer. Ergo, the brainstorming session that is currently kicking your ass.

Should you keep making visual novels? It’s the type you’re most familiar with and it has a charm no true gamer can deny.

Although, you’re more than capable of designing 3D models and a 3D game would appeal to more people.

But, it all depends on what your new game will be about, hence why you’re angry at the notebook with only the words “New Game Ideas” written at the top of the first page. You’ve been in here for almost three hours and the only thing you’ve done is look up obscure YouTube videos you watched years ago that popped into your head while you attempted to work.

You have an archive full of the ideas, memories, knowledge, and experiences of countless people throughout the ages and you’ve come up with exactly zero ideas.

(You should not force yourself to do this,) the Megamycete says in a calming tone. (If you do, you will continue to have no success and any ideas you do have will not be as well-thought of as and will fall apart the moment you begin to work. The right idea will enter your mind when the time is right.)

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sigh. “I’m just getting more pissed and it’s not helping me.” You stand up and begin to make your way to the exit. “How ‘bout we binge watch some anime and pig out on junk food?”

(We wish to watch one of those ‘isekai’ anime you watch. We find the concept of being in another world fascinating.)

“Sure thing, buddy,” you say with a chuckle as you make your way to the kitchen and begin grabbing random junk food and bottles of soda and water with your mold tendrils.

While you’re not the biggest anime watcher in the world (you consider yourself more of a casual anime fan more than anything else), you absolutely devour anything isekai; you discovered it during your time and Gotham and the thought of being transported to another world full of magic, fantasy creatures, and adventure and having the most powerful abilities in said world appealed to you almost as much as making Salvage Rights.

Hell, you wished to be transported to a magical world for your birthday for three years in a row before you finally accepted the hellish reality that was life in the Wayne Manor. While being in such a world was great on its own, the thought of being in such a world with a harem of attractive men plagued your daydreams at the manor, at school, and at work.

(It would have been nice to be in such a world,) the Megamycete says as you plop down on the couch and begin pulling up your anime streaming platform on your tablet, your junk food and drinks scattered across the table.

“Guess we’ll have to make do with anime,” you say as you scroll down the list of anime.

(Wait,) it says just as you’re about to select a series. (We are about to have company.)

“Company,” you repeat, confused. “Who is it?”

(It is them,) it responds, its tone full of hatred and resentment.

There’s only one reason the Megamycete would speak like that.

You patch into the roots surrounding your house and sure enough, it’s the Waynes. Specifically, all of them.

“That’s not company, it’s an infestation,” you growl.

You get up and storm over to the door, mold tendrils at the ready and your bloodlust already threatening to boil over.

“Why can’t you assholes leave me the fuck alone,” you growl once you throw open the door just as Bruce stepped onto your porch, hand raised to knock.

“Now, now,” a familiar voice says in response. Your eyes widen when the merry band of misfits parts to allow Alfred through. “Is that any way to greet guests, Master Y/N?”

Your breath hitches and eyes mist up at the sight of the man you consider a grandfather. While you have no regrets leaving Gotham and returning to your home in Goodsprings, you’ve missed Alfred since your graduation night and have thought about inviting him for a weekend visit on more than one occasion.

“Alfie,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper and not caring that the people you hate more in the world know about your nickname for the butler that you came up when you were six.

You move a little so you could hug the man, but quickly remember the “audience” around you.

“Please, come in, Alfred,” you say once you recover, stepping aside to allow the man entry, mold tendrils emerging from your body.

Alfred begins to move, but the instant you notice Bruce trying to enter, you quickly move to block his entry. “Not you. No one but Alfred is allowed in my house.”

“You call this hovel a house,” Damian asks, looking up at your home with visible disgust in his eyes.

“Get the fuck off my property,” you growl, your tone leaving no room for argument. Damian looks to his father, as if he had commanded him and not you. “Don’t look at him, I’m telling you to leave.”

Bruce gives him a nod and the little demon relents, returning to the luxury car parking in front of your house.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, returning your attention to him. “There’s no need to be rude. I’m confident I raised you better than that. Surely there’s room in your home for all of us.”

You do your best to suppress the flinch at the butler’s words. Yes, Alfred was the one to raise your during your time at the manor, reinforcing your Momma’s lessons on being polite and courteous, but the thought of these people being anywhere near your house makes you want to puke up your guts and use them to strangle all of them.

“I’ve missed you ever since I left Gotham, Alfred, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting them in the house my Momma raised me in and that I thought about for years. Don’t make me choose between my love for you and my hatred for them. I promise you won’t like the outcome.”

He looks at you and you return his look, the butler clearly mulling over your words before saying, “Alright, if that’s what it takes for us to talk.” He turns to the others crowding around your porch. “The lot of you will wait out here and behave yourselves.”

“Alfred,” Bruce starts to say as Alfred moves towards your door.

“That warning applies to you, too, Master Bruce,” the butler says in a tone akin to that of a parent scolding a kid, which almost makes you laugh, but you suppress the urge, determined not to laugh in front of the people you hate most in this world. “Shall we go, Master Y/N?”

You stand aside to allow Alfred in and throw one last dirty look at the pests on your lawn before slamming the door shut and commanding mold tendrils to emerge from the ground and cover your front door before countless spike-like thorns extend from them, making the message very clear: stay out.

“Your house is quite lovely, Master Y/N,” Alfred complements as he takes a look around, making you swell your chest out in pride. “I can see you take care of it.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” you say as you motion to the living room. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?”

“A cup of tea, would be lovely if you have it.” He makes his way to the living room before sitting on the sofa, but not before he glances at your supply of junk food and soda. “Honestly, Master Y/N, I know I raised you better than this. Please tell me you haven’t been subsisting off this garbage since you left the manor.”

“No, I eat lots of things,” you retort as you prepare a kettle with earl grey, thankful you keep a box of the butler’s favorite tea just in case he ever dropped by for a visit. “All that is for an anime binge watching marathon I was about to do before you surprised me.”

“So you’ve been eating healthy and nutritious home cooked meals since you left the manor?”

You freeze up at the thought of the all the take-out and fast food you’ve gorged on since coming back to Goodsprings; sure, you’ve cooked at home many times… if you count frozen pizza, instant ramen, and microwave meals as cooking.

“I thought as much,” the butler says after a moment of silence. “Honestly, Master Y/N, you’re as bad as your father and siblings. Lord knows what they’d consume if I left them alone for a month.”

The comparison makes your blood boil and it takes every last ounce of willpower you have not to command the mold underneath your house to lash out at the pests outside in anger.

“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, Alfred,” you say, some of your anger leaking into your tone. “The Megamycete has the knowledge and experience of countless people, many of them skilled in the kitchen. If I wanted to, I could prepare a five course meal that would make even Gordon Ramsey look incompetent.” The kettle whistles and you quickly take it off the stove, pour some into a mug, and make your way to the living room. “Plus, the Megamycete provides everything I need; I could eat nothing but fast food for a month and I’d never gain any weight or get sick.”

It’s true, the Megamycete sustains your body, making food and water completely unnecessary, so you can go the next hundred years without any kind of sustenance. Although, could you really call life without a burger and milkshake “living?”

“Besides,” you add, placing the mug on the table in front of Alfred before sitting in your favorite chair. “I’m nothing like them. They may be able to go toe-to-toe with people like Bane and Killer Croc on a nightly basis, but they’re complete disasters in the normal world. Hell, I saw Bruce treating tying his tie like defusing a bomb, sweat and all!”

It’s true, your status as the Ghost of Wayne Manor gave you plenty of opportunities to witness such embarrassing moments, your favorite one being watching Bruce struggling with his tie for ten whole minutes before he finally admitted defeat and called for Alfred to help him with it. To see the “mighty” Bruce Wayne be defeated by a mere tie… it put a smile on your face for the rest of the day.

“I didn’t mean any offense, Master Y/N. I have every confidence that you can successfully manage a household and the proof is all around us.” He looks around the living room to emphasize his point before looking at a framed picture on the table next to the sofa. “I take it this is you and your mother?”

The picture is you and Momma at the fall festival the town holds every October. Specifically, it was the last festival you to went to before she…

“Yes,” you answer, breaking out of your depressing line of thinking. “That’s us at the fall festival Goodsprings have every year. It has a pumpkin patch, hayrides, games, and tons of food.”

“It sounds lovely,” he says, gently placing the picture back down. “She looked like a lovely woman. I can tell she loved you and you her.”

“Yeah,” you say, eyes falling to the carpet as you start to think about what little memories you had of her. You lost her when you were so young, so there’s very little actual memories you’re able to recall, making even the smallest recollection more valuable than gold.

“Master Y/N,” the man says, his tone making you look up at him. “I’m so sorry. For your mother’s passing. Losing a parent is never easy, but losing one at such a young age is nothing short of horrific.”

“It’s fine, Alfred,” you answer, trying your best to dam up the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes. “It wasn’t your fault, you weren’t the bastard that decided to drive drunk and slammed into her car. She’s been gone for years and I made peace with the fact that she’s never coming back.”

“But I’m also sorry about how you were treated during your time at the manor. You’re Master Bruce’s firstborn son and you had every right to be there as the rest of them did. No matter what the reasoning, there’s no excuse for their behavior. I should’ve put an end to it when you first arrived.”

(His words ring of sincerity, but they come too late.)

As much as you hate to admit it, the Megamycete’s right, he should’ve said all this years ago when you could still be convinced they were capable of love. After several years and many scorned attempts to reach out to them, you’ve realized the Wayne Family is full of sick and broken misfits who should be locked up in Arkham.

You open your mouth to say something to reassure the poor man, but you quickly realize that you have an eavesdropper. You connect to the roots to see Tim hanging just by your living room window, which faces the front of your house.

With a mere thought, a tendril emerges from beneath the soil and behind the little creep and whips him away from the window before he can even react, Tim letting out a yelp as he flies through the air and lands near the parked car. As the rest of them gather around Tim to help him up and provide whatever protection they think they’re capable of, you decide to add insult to injury and flex the tendril in a way that it looks like an upraised middle finger, telling each of them to fuck off before you command the tendril to return to the soil, holding in your laughter as each of them have a slack jawed expression on their faces.

“But most of all,” Alfred says, bringing you back to the room you’re physically in. “I’m sorry for what happened that night. You were put into a situation you never should’ve been in and we… I almost lost you. Ever since the Megamycete told us what happened, not a day goes by that I curse myself for being away. I assure you had I been at the manor and learned of your abduction, I would’ve tore all of Gotham apart until I found you and brought you back to the manor. And rest assured, those thugs would’ve never hurt anyone else after I was finished with them.”

“I know, Alfred,” you say.

And you do, knowing the man is like Jason Borne, James Bond, a Lara Croft had a baby together and said baby was trained by John Wicke. You can remember seeing the frankly shocking amount of weapons in the butler’s room many years ago and when asked, he said: “Those are to protect the manor and all of you should anyone be foolish enough to break in.”

To be honest, you were surprised that Bruce allowed Alfred to have such an armory given the man’s no-gun rule, but everyone knows that Alfred is the one who really runs Wayne Manor and if the butler wishes to stockpile guns for a zombie apocalypse, then there’s nothing the “World’s Greatest Detective” can do about it.

“And you don’t have to be sorry about that. It wasn’t your fault those three dicks decided to kidnap me and it sure as hell wasn’t your fault that they didn’t save me.” You can feel your anger beginning to rise again. “They didn’t care about me in the first place and left me at the hands of those thugs!”

The memories of that night rush your mind all at once, from the mocking tones of Bruce and the others to the pain the leader inflicted on you.

(And how can you forget being thrown into a cavern in the middle of the woods,) the Megamycete hisses. (You were discarded like trash into a grave no one would ever find, your body left to rot while they would be allowed to live!)

You can feel as numerous tendrils emerge all around your house and the point their massive thorns at Bruce and his bastards, threatening to turn them into Swiss cheese, and despite their defensive postures and reaching for weapons hidden in their clothes, you know you have a high probability of killing them all.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, bringing you out of your hate-fueled trance and back to the living room.

Taking a deep breath and releasing it, you recall the tendrils back into the ground. As long as Alfred’s here, you’ll set aside your plans to tear them to shreds and paint Wayne Manor with their blood… for now.

“You have every right to be angry, Master Y/N. You never asked anything of them in the years you lived with us and the one time you reached out, you nearly died. Such behavior is inexcusable.”

“Alfred,” you say with a sigh. “Why are you really here? I appreciate the apologies, but I know you didn’t come here just for that. If it was, you would’ve come alone, or at least told them to stay away while you visited.”

“I had hoped you would allow them to make their apologies in my presence. I know they all came here, one after the other, but they were more determined to bring you back home.”

“But I am home, Alfred,” you respond with a sigh, dredging where this conversation is going. “This was my home before I lost Momma, it was the place I called home when I was in Gotham, and it’s my home for the past four years ever since I graduated. Gotham was never my home, Alfred, and that damn manor sure as hell wasn’t a home, let alone my home!”

“I know how you feel, Master Y/N, I truly do! But—“

“‘But’ what, Alfred? There is no ‘but!’ You know how they treated me! For years, I was either invisible or a nuisance, but I was never family to them! Hell, I wasn’t even someone they tolerated! To them, I was a stain that they couldn’t get rid of, so they just ignored me until I was wiped from their collective memory!”

“But they know they wronged you and wish to make amends.”

“I don’t fucking care what they want! I’m finally back home and doing what I’ve dreamed of doing and just when everything’s going my way, they come in and try to take it all away!”

“But Gotham is your home, Master Y/N,” the butler responds, making you go silent. “I know you only wish to acknowledge your mother’s side, but you are a Wayne as much as you are a Gould! Gotham is the city of the Waynes and it’s where you belong.”

“No, it’s not,” you shout, your voice making the room shake and you feel as multiple mold tendrils burst out from your back as you struggle to contain your anger. “I never belonged there and if it wasn’t for that drunk fucker, I never would’ve been dragged there! It’s the City of the Damned that no decent person with even half a working brain would live in!”

The two of you stare at one another, the only noise in the room being the sound of your taking short, rapid breaths to replenish the breath you lost from your angry rant.

“Am I decent person,” he asks after a while. “Do I belong in that ‘City of the Damned?’”

At first, you wanted to say no, that he’s a kind man who doesn’t belong in a place as terrible as Gotham.

But, there’s a part of you, composed entirely of anger, hatred, and pain, that wants to say yes.

For all the help Alfred gave you, he also enabled Bruce and the others to ignore you and treat you like shit; at any point, he could’ve put his foot down and forced them to give you the bare minimum of attention most children need, but it never happened.

Hell, he was often in the living room watching movies and eating delicious food while you were left in an abandoned part of the manor upstairs, the only thing keeping you company was the sound of your muffled cries and vague memories of a better time, where Momma was still alive.

“I think,” you finally say as you retract the tendrils into your body, your breathing returning to a semi-normal level. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“What,” he asks, his eyes wide like saucers.

“It’s time for you to go, Alfred,” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument.

You stand up and he does as well, but when he makes no move to walk to the door, you gently but firmly grab his arm and walk him to the door.

You’re not surprised to see the peanut gallery when you open the door, knowing they were all listening in the entire time, even though Tim was the only one who made it obvious and you’re even less surprised to see Damian standing on your property again, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing that matters is putting an end to this.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says as you move him outside the door and begin to close it. “Please, come home! I waited since the day you left for Master Bruce and the children to notice you were missing! When they didn’t, I had to take matters into my hands.”

You freeze, the door half closed, as the words sink in.

Take matters into my own hands.

What did he mean by that?

No…

It can’t be…

There’s no way…

He wouldn’t…

Right?

“What,” you respond as you open the door, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Master Bruce and the children learned of your departure when they discovered my laptop in the kitchen, your game running and the title music blaring for all to hear. I engineered that so they would eventually learn of your career as a game developer; from there, they would realize you had left the manor after graduating high school. I knew their sense of justice would do the rest.”

His words hit you harder than that thug and based off the looks Bruce and the peanut gallery have on their faces, they’re just as shocked as you.

Bruce looks especially shocked, which makes sense as no one ever thought Alfred could be capable of such manipulation.

“So it’s your fault I have to deal with these assholes again,” you say after finding your voice. “If it wasn’t for you, they would’ve still forgotten me and I’d be living my life in peace!” You feel tears streaming down your face, which is now molten hot. “Why, Alfred? Why do that when you know how I felt about them? Don’t you remember all the times you held me in your arms while I cried my eyes out about how they treated me?”

“Of course I do,” he responds, his eyes visibly glossy. “I remember every last tear you shed because of something they did or something they said. But I set all this in motion so you’d eventually be brought home. You’ve belonged at the manor since the moment you were born and I’ll be damned if all members of the Wayne Family aren’t together.”

“You did all this because you’re selfish and want me to live somewhere that made me miserable for years just because I happen to share DNA with this bastard?” You gesture to Bruce, who gawks like an absolute idiot. “I… I hate you.”

All of them, Alfred especially, gasp and their eyes go so wide they look like they’ll pop out of their sockets. Hell, you’re even surprised by your own words; saying that you hate Alfred left an extremely bitter taste in your mouth and you’re actually wanting to take it back.

(Do not,) the Megamycete hisses, clearly pissed beyond words. (He knows the transgressions they have wrought against you and he still orchestrated the reunion of the people who have brought you nothing but misery ever since you were a child. He has betrayed your trust and should never be forgiven for this!)

“Master Y/N,” Alfred says, clearly upset by what you said. “I—“

“I hate you,” you say again, louder. “I hate you ! I hate you! I hate you!”

At this point, all your control and restraint has been destroyed and you don’t attempt to fight it when a tendril emerges from your back and whips the lot of them away from your porch, sending them tumbling onto your lawn.

Your chest is heaving as your anger and sadness fill your entire body until there’s nothing left but those two emotions.

You thought there was nothing worse than losing your Momma, but being betrayed by the man you’ve trusted and depended on for years is a close second and for a moment, you’re six-year-old again, completely helpless as your world crumbles beneath your feet and you’re once again completely alone.

Alone. That sounds like the perfect solution to this problem; if you’re alone, you can’t be hurt anymore and you can completely fall apart and not give these heartless bastards any satisfaction.

Plus, you spent the first part of your life all alone. You’ve been alone since your sixth birthday, so it’s nothing new to you. In fact, you’ve come to appreciate solitude.

You command countless mold tendrils to sprout from the ground and surround your house, covering it to the point where you can’t see the paint.

“Stay away from me, all of you,” you say, your voice cracking while you fight with the last of your mental strength to keep from completely falling apart in front of them. “This is your last warning. Next time I see any of you, I’ll rip you apart, and I won’t give a shit where we are. Do you hear me? I’ll fucking murder you!”

And with that, you turn around and step back in your house, a tendril shutting your door and covering it so no one can enter.

Once you know your house is completely covered in tendrils to the point even a chainsaw won’t be able to cut through, you head up to your room as fast as you can manage in your current state. Thanks to the tendrils covering the windows, it’s pitch black in your room, but you’re more than capable of seeing thanks to the Megamycete.

You shut your door, knowing you most likely cracked the frame from the force of it, and fall to the floor and put all your weight against the door, all your strength gone and your willpower extinguished. You still in the dark, the only noise being your choked sobs.

All you can think about is how betrayed you feel in this moment by the one person on this planet you thought would always have your back.

Alfred was the only thing that kept you going after losing Momma and living in that fucking manor surrounded by the most distant, paranoid, and emotionally-stunted people on the planet.

Once again, you’ve lost the one person who was closest to your heart and you feel like it’s you against the world.

(It is ok,) it says to you in a calming manner. (It is just us. You can fall apart.)

And with that, you allow the soul-piercing sobs to emerge from mouth at maximum volume and tears the size of pearls fall from your eyes.

But this isn’t enough. The sobs and tears aren’t enough to vent the frustrations and sadness you feel in this moment and you look down at your Star Wars shirt, which is barely a step above rags due to the tendrils you’ve created in the last half hour, which has completely destroyed the back of it.

Deciding to write it off so you can properly express the deep sense of helplessness you feel in this moment, you create talons on both your hands and dig into your torso, ripping both the shirt and your flesh, sending scraps of cloth, bits of flesh, and splashes of blood onto your carpet. What remains of your rational mind tells you that you’ll have to replace the carpet and destroy the old one to prevent anyone from finding out what’s happened, but you don’t care.

Right now, you’re hurting and all you want to do is express that hurt in the only way you can think of. Sure, it’s not healthy in any definition of the word, but you’re able to heal from the injuries, so it’s not like you’ll have to deal with any consequences of what you’re doing.

You pierce your talons into the center of your chest and rip it open, blood cascading down your body and pooling around where you’re sitting, and reach into your chest cavity, past your rib cage, until you find what you’re looking for: your heart.

With another sob, you rip the organ out and hold it out in front of you, the little thing still beating despite there being nothing to pump blood into.

One would think ripping out one’s own heart would be a pain unlike any other and seeing it before one’s very eyes would be an extremely frightening sight, but in this moment, you feel nothing. After all sadness, loneliness, and disappointments you experienced for the majority of the last fourteen years, you barely registered the sensation of your heart being ripped out of your chest by your own hand.

Am I incapable of feeling anything but sadness and anger, you think as you look at the organ in your hand, perfectly fine without it being in your body. No matter how fast or how far I run, I’ll never be able to escape the hold those people have on me?

And with that depressing thought, you squeeze the organ until you hear a sickeningly wet splat! and it burst like a balloon, coating your hand in blood and dripping onto the carpet. You allow your hand to fall to the floor and what remains of your heart reassimilating into your hand as your torso begins to stitch itself back together with a new heart eventually emerging and beating as soon as it was complete.

Ever since you became the host of the Megamycete, you’ve noticed that you don’t have the same bodily requirements you once did; you eat despite not feeling any sort of hunger, drink despite not feeling any sort of thirst, and sleep despite never feeling any sort of fatigue. It didn’t take long to realize that the Megamycete provides everything you need, eliminating the need for food, water, and rest and despite its wishes, you often took advantage of this, forgoing eating and sleep for weeks at a time so you could finish the goal you set for the development of your game.

Now, however? You feel like you have no energy left in your body that even lifting your head feels like a Herculean task right now. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, you have nothing left in the tank.

(Rest. Today has been an extremely draining day for you. You need to regain your strength. We will keep watch over you.)

You lean your head against the door and close your eyes, falling asleep immediately.

Bruce looks over to Alfred, who’s sitting in the seat next to him.

Ever since leaving your house after the… incident, he’s been completely quiet and emotionless, despite his and his children’s attempts to get through to him.

Even now, on the jet, he remains silent, but it doesn’t take a world class detective to figure out he’s completely devastated by what just happened. He can tell that he cares about you very much, which isn’t that hard to see why since you weren’t trained in crime fighting and detective work like them, so hearing that you hate him would be similar to a death sentence for Alfred.

“Alfred,” he says, holding the man’s hand in his own. “Y/N didn’t mean that, he was just angry at us for what we’ve done to him and he was taking his anger out on you.”

“He has every right to hate me,” the man says, his voice hoarse from tears not shed. “I should have done better while he was growing up, but I didn’t and now I have to bare the consequences of my failures.”

“We’re gonna bring him back, Alfred. We’ll find a way to beat that damn mushroom in his body and bring him back home. And when we do, we’ll show him the love we should’ve when he was growing up. We’ll make things right… I’ll make things right. And then we can be a family.”

Alfred say nothing and Bruce can feel the weight of this failures quadruple.

I’ll find a way to fix this. I have to. I’m his father. I need to make this family whole again.

And come hell or high water, he’ll bring you back home or die trying.

Tag List: @lunaluz432 @type-ink @bat1212 @eyeless-kun @deathbynarcisstick @orbitingtraveler @1s3v3n1 @roseytheteacup @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @bellethesleepypotato @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @exactlynumberonekryptonite @paolexsstuff @fantasyhopperhea @c0l1fl0r @ellaprime7 @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @ratchetprime211 @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @bunbunbread @starsdotalk @luna57765 @solelifauna @jsprien213 @diejager @lizz-lrm @v0idl1nq @chericia @wizzerreblogs @tinybrie @creativechaosx @randomlyappearingartist @ferchu0406 @kik1010 @butterflycardigann @1-800-crazy @im-so-goddamn-tired @twismare

[sitepathos]

When are you coming back king 🗣‼️‼️🙏

I’m still here, everyone!

Sorry, school and family business has taken up a bunch of my time the last few weeks, but my schedule’s clear and I’ve resumed work on the draft of the latest chapter of From Gold to Mold!

In fact, I’m working on the ending and I’m fairly confident that it’ll be out later today (don’t ask for a time, I’m struggling with the ending something fierce)!

And here’s a bit of news for you all: after this chapter, I have one mini chapter planned (I may release it within the next few days, idk) and then we arrive at the endings! We’re nearing the end of the series!

And as a reminder, per the results of the poll, the ending where you win will be released first before the Batfam Victory ending.

Please bear with me and I promise I’ll deliver!

[sitepathos]

Hi! I hope you’re doing well!

If I wanted to write a fic with yandere batfam and neglected reader, and include the megamycete from resident evil, would that be okay if I tag you and link your fic as inspo?

Gasp, you want to use my work as inspiration!

That makes me so happy, I actually wanna cry!

Yes, I’d be honored if you wrote your fic and included the Megamycete and tagged me and my work! I look forward to reading it!

Also, I’ve been meaning to post an update for a while, so here it is: the next chapter of From Gold to Mold is in development, but with finals right around the corner and my Capstone presentation being on Monday, I haven’t had the chance to work on it. But, as soon as everything is done, I promise I’ll get back to it. Thank you all for your patience and understanding.

In the meantime, I hope you all continue to enjoy what I’ve posted so far and continue to send me asks. I may not answer any of them right away, but I always see them and always think about how to go about answering them.

[sitepathos]

I was thinking since mushrooms release spores could Gould reader be able to just turn the batfamily into fungus zombies like I'm the last of us

You could, but you won’t.

To be infected with the Megamycete is to be a part of you; when the Megamycete infects something, it assimilates everything, from DNA to memories, and adds it to its archives.

And there’s no way in hell you’re spending the rest of eternity (or however long you have) with their memories swimming around in your head.

[sitepathos]

I keep thinking. because the Omega reader grew up around Alphas and was treated horribly by them for years, what if he feel uncomfortable and unsafe around them and couldn't help but feel negative about them. It also doesn't help how omega's are seen. I'm sure the reader will meet a lot of creeps in his four years in Vegas after his body allowed his second gender to show.

Also Alfred, the only one who took care of him is the only beta in the Wayne pack. So what if the reader's mate was Beta. Or even an Omega?

Here’s a birthday present from me to you guys! Happy 24th birthday to me!

That’s actually a very realistic look and not entirely outside the realm of reality.

Yes, you know that not all Alphas are like the Waynes (mostly because the Waynes are totally batshit crazy), but years of neglect and mistreatment take their toll on even the strongest of souls and your wounds run deep.

Even with the Megamycete, you can’t help but flinch when you’re around an Alpha who gets angry, even if it’s not directed at you. Every harsh word or loud bang reminds you of being around people who treated you like shit and you begin to spiral, thinking you’re still imprisoned in the manor and hiding from the Waynes.

And while Vegas allows all to come and work and gamble, it hasn’t earned the nickname “Sin CIty” for nothing and it’s not uncommon for you to hear Alpha man comment on your looks and an Alpha woman to allude to what she’d do to you in bed. At first, you were a little flattered because the Waynes left you with no self-confidence and you liked hearing people liked what you looked like, but when it became apparent that they were acting on your Omega status, you quickly found ways to avoid going out.

Fortunately, Goodsprings is a small town that’s full of mostly older folks that try to look out for one another, so you always have a safe place to retreat to. Plus, it’s full of aging Betas who don’t really feel one way or another about you being an Omega.

Now, as for Beta and Omega mates, that’s when things get a bit tricky.

Since the dawn of mankind, Betas get together with other Betas and Alphas get together with Omegas; this is because Alphas and Omegas are able to react properly to each others’ ruts and heats and their scents. Sure, you often hear about Alpha-Alpha couples, but this is acceptable because Alphas have a need for dominance and conquest, so having sex with another Alpha can appeal to that need almost as well as having sex with an Omega.

But Omegas getting with Betas? Almost unheard of, but there’s been a few instances of that, but society is heavily mixed on that. Omegas getting with Omegas? Yeah, that’s a hard pass for even the most progressive individual because Omegas are submissive by nature, so outside of porn, no one’s interested in seeing that.

If you have a Beta as a mate, you can expect him to be kinda dominant, but not as much as an Alpha naturally is. Also, you can expect your heats to be very painful since he doesn’t have a knot, so you’ll have to find a work around, like using a toy.

Having an Omega as a mate? You can expect to have to hide your relationship with him because such a thing is frowned on everywhere in the world. If you’re wanting him to be the dominant one, you’ll be hard-pressed to find a dominant Omega as once someone presents as an Omega, you start undergoing Omega etiquette classes to prepare you for being the perfect Omega mate. If you want to be the dominant one, you’ll be spoiled for choice, but you’ll still be hard-pressed to find an Omega that wants to be with another Omega; in fact, if yo want to be with another Omega, you’ll probably end up being the dominant one since your upbringing led to you becoming an Omega unlike any other.

Now, for everyone’s reactions…

For Bruce, it doesn’t matter whether you’re with a Beta or an Omega, he doesn’t approve for you being with anyone. In his twisted mind, all you need is him and your siblings and anyone who tries to get close to you is trying to take you away from your pack and he’s not going to let that happen; you’re his son and Omega and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you by his side. He almost lost you once, he’s not about to let that happen again.

“Our pack is all you need, Y/N. A mate can always leave, but we’ll always be here for you.”

Dick hears that you have a mate? Oh, hell no, he’s going to Goodsprings and is bringing you back to the manor immediately. This guy is clearly taking advantage of you and he’s not about to let his precious baby bird be taken advantage of by some opportunistic Beta or clout chasing Omega! If you really need someone to be with, he’ll be more than happy to be by your side all the time, from cuddling you in your sleep to having you sit in his lap and being fed by hand.

“Baby bird, he’s clearly trying to use you! Come on, he didn’t even ask to meet with us! He’s going to hurt you and leave you all alone!”

Barbara immediately disapproves of any mate you have, regardless of his designation, because she thinks just like Bruce, that no one can ever be truly worthy of you and really, all you need is them. She’ll dig up so much dirt on him and bombard you with everything she finds, stuff dating back to kindergarten and even the most minor and ridiculous of infractions, like him cutting in line for snack when he was five. Also, she may be in a wheelchair, but she’ll sure as hell show up in person to scare the living hell out of him.

“Look, I understand that you want a mate, but you need to have some standards, Y/N. Just come home and maybe I can find you someone better and maybe convince Bruce to let you date him. Just remember that you’re our Omega first and always.”

Once Jason learns that you have a Beta mate, he’s immediately suiting up to beat the living shit out of the guy; and he’s not holding back just because the guy’s a Beta, in anything, he’s going way harder because that fucker should’ve known better than try to get with an Omega if he didn’t have any combat skills.

Now, if your mate’s another Omega, he hesitates. On one hand, he’s getting close with you and trying to take you away from the pack (from him), but on the other hand, the guy’s another Omega and Red Hood is kind to all Omegas. So, he’ll probably just kidnap you during the night and forge a note saying you’re leaving your mate and going home.

“Look, kid, I get that why you’d want someone else since we treated you like shit, but you’re still a part of this batshit crazy pack and it’s time you rejoin it.”

Tim acts just like Barbara, but he takes it to the EXTREME. Like, he’ll not only look into everything retaining to your mate, but everyone even remotely close to your mate, be it their original pack to a co-worker they interact with every fourth Friday of the month. Doesn’t matter how obscure the “discover” is, Tim will find it, put in in a PowerPoint showing why he’s unfit to being your mate, and present it to you like he’s in a board meeting.

Also, he’s not a huge traditionalist, but his upper class upbringing has drilled it into his head that Alphas and Omegas become mates and while he’s a bit of a modern thinker, he thinks you being with a Beta or another Omega is doomed to fail. If you really want a mate, perhaps you could allow him to court you?

Possible future installment?

“Honestly, Y/N, this mate of yours is doomed to fail you. Why don’t you let me bring you home and take care of everything for you?”

Unlike the other Waynes, Steph laughs her ass off when she learns you’ve taken a Beta/another Omega as a mate. Really, her laughter could be heard all over the manor and it only got stronger when she saw a few more grey hairs pop on in Bruce’s hair; she loves to be a menace to the pack and she actually wants you to teach her your ways so she can up her torture game.

Still, she doesn’t approve of him; not because of his designation or anything, she’s no prude. No, you’re a part of her pack and she doesn’t tolerate any outsiders trying to lure you away. She’ll go as far as harassing your mate in her Spoiler gear if it means making him leave you.

“Come on, Y/N, if you really wanna piss off Bruce, why don’t you just put bright green hair dye in his shampoo bottles. Wait, since you’re an Omega, you can get away with whatever you want! Oh, we can have so much fun together!”

Unlike her best friend, Cass doesn’t see anything funny about this; she looks at your mate and sees someone that’s trying to commit an unforgivable transgression on her pack: taking a packmate. While the title of Left Hand may be Jason’s, Bruce often tasks her to deal with things that require a more… subtle touch. And things that require no evidence left behind. To deal with something like this, Bruce doesn’t even have to tell her what she has to do.

Of course, “dealing” with your mate proves to be far more difficult when you meet her donned in your mold armor.

Damian is pissed off at so many levels about this; first at the thought of you being mated to someone because as the true heir to his sire’s legacy, it falls to him to find a suitable mate to produce a son and carry on the Wayne name, something you shouldn’t have to worry about. Second, his strict League upbringing instilled it in his mind that Omegas are only allowed to be with Alphas, just as nature intended.

This… thing you have with a Beta? It’s not meant to be since he lacks the proper biology to properly handle you.

And if you’re with another Omega? Well, let’s just say he’s not a fan and leave it at that.

He goes to Vegas, sword in hand, ready to cut down this interloper who dares lay his filthy, impure hands on you only to find you, mold sword at the ready.

Well, while he vowed to never harm you like he did when he was a child, he thinks besting you in battle should bring you back to your senses. If he defeats you in combat, you’re his to do with as he pleases, such as League law dictates.

“Brother, it’s up to me to carry on our bloodline. You needn’t worry about finding a mate and desecrating yourself to someone who’s obviously beneath you. Come, let’s return to the manor so our pack can be whole once more.”

Alfred’s truly happy for you; after all the years you suffered in the manor, he thinks you deserve someone who makes you happy. If it happens to be a Beta or another Omega, he really doesn’t care. But, as much as he hates to ruin what’s possibly the only healthy relationship someone in the Wayne Pack has been in, he stands with the rest of the pack in thinking you need to leave your new mate and return to them.

In his eyes, you were a part of their pack first (no matter the evidence to the contrary) and that means you need to return to Gotham and claim your place as the Wayne Omega.

“Not to worry, Master Y/N, things will be different this time. And if they’re not, I’ll take care of it.”

[sitepathos]

Ok regarding the alpha Wayne's! How would they react of y/n got a mate or found a pack to accept them?

Oh, sweetie, you must want people to pass away! The moment they learn you have a mate and/or a pack is when the gloves come off.

Ok, let’s look at just a pack. Let’s say in this scenario, you met an Alpha and a few Betas not long after you moved to Nevada and they found that you were highly compatible with all of them; you bond over similar interests, like video games, anime, manga, etc (you kept your identity as the bastard firstborn son of Bruce Wayne and the host of the Megamycete a secret from them) and your Omega side appeals to the Alpha’s need for dominance and the Betas’ need for someone to care for them. After a few weeks, they talk it over and present you with an invitation to join their pack. They promise that if you join, they’ll treat you with the respect you deserve and if you don’t want to join, they’ll act like it never happened and all of you can go back to hang out.

All Omegas yearn to be part of a pack, a place where they belong and feel safe, and you’re no different. You were trapped at Wayne Manor for most of your life and were constantly reminded that you’d never have a place in the prestigious Wayne Pack. The Megamycete doesn’t help with this as it records are filled with the memories of countless packs and you want that warm sensation of belonging and safety more than anything.

You agree and they all scent you, merging your scent with theirs and preparing a place for you at their house in Vegas (you’re allowed to keep your house since they know how much it means to you, but you spend the daytime there to work and maintain it while nighttime is spent at with your new pack at their house). As the next four years go by, you feel your decade-old wounds begin to slowly but surely heal thanks to your new packmates, all of them patient and teaching you what it means to be part of a pack and allowing you to decide the Omega you wish to be; you realize that for most of your life, you were freezing, and now with your pack, you know what warmth feels like and order how you were able to survive without it for so long.

Of course, after a year, when it became apparent that you could trust them, you told them everything; when you first met, you just told them that you lived in a place in Gotham so bad to you that you withheld on presenting as an Omega until you moved back home and they were so sympathetic and pissed on your behalf. Now, they knew you were the first biological son of Bruce Wayne and the “bad pack” you weren’t a part of was the famous Wayne Pack that so many would kill to be a part in.

Then, you revealed your connection to the Megamycete and all the powers you had at your disposal. At first, they were shocked and a little afraid, which you could understand; then, the unbelievable happened: they embraced you and said that they didn’t care what you were or who your father was, you were their Omega and they’d never let anything change that. Needless to say, you cried surrounded by the people you trust more than anyone else in the world.

Then the night of the Gamer Gala happened; despite not keeping in regular touch with Alfred, you gave him an invitation to the award ceremony and reserved a place for him with your pack. You wanted to show him the people you’ve come to call pack and show your pack the man that kept you alive during the darkest chapter of your life. Instead, they got to see the man whose face decorates the dartboard you have in the game room and see you hand the world’s richest and most eligible Alpha his ass.

When security came to separate the two of you, your pack came to your rescue and that’s when Bruce discovered that you’re the Omega of another pack.

Shocked. Distraught. Pissed. Denial. Bruce went through all these emotions, and more. He came here to beg for your forgiveness and to bring you back home so you could become a member of their pack and their Omega, but here, right in front of him, are these… interlopers, touching you, scenting you, comforting you in ways that only he and his children should be allowed to! You’re a part of their pack and these actions are solely theirs by divine right!

When he first approaches your pack, offers and threats in hand to make them give you back to them, he finds out just how much animosity you hold towards him when you jump on him and try to rip his throat out with your teeth. The growls that came out of you, the rage in your eyes, the bloody bite marks you left on his neck reminded him that while Alphas are the protectors of the pack, when push comes to shove, an Omega will fight tooth and nail and use every dirty trick in the book to protect their pack if they perceive a threat. While he’s happy and proud to see you’re willing to protect what you see as yours (something you both have in common), he’s pissed that you growl and bear your fangs at him, your sire and true Alpha, and that these people allow you to do such things when you should be kept safe and out of the fighting.

He refuses to admit defeat, he’ll take a variety of direction and indirect routes in order to take you back to Gotham, but you end up in his way, bearing fangs and clad in mold armor, ready to give him the Thomas and Martha Wayne Treatment.

Dick cries the moment he sees you with your packmates, smiling at them, scenting them, and bearing your neck at them. Those are things you should be doing with them, not those fakers!

But, he doesn’t blame you, baby bird! No, not at all! They ignored you and these monsters took advantage of you and tricked you into becoming a part of their sick and twisted pack! Don;t worry, he’ll deal with these monsters and bring you back home and cuddle you in your new nest!

Family is something Dick takes very seriously and to see someone he sees a part of his pack being taken away is an unforgivable sin.

As much as he wants to curb stomp them and take you into his arms and bring you back to the manor, he knows that he must do this in a more dignified manner, so he comes to your pack’s house in his official capacity, ready to lay out the “facts” and negotiate a way for you to be released into their custody. As the Right Hand of the Wayne Pack, he’s more than capable of handling such negotiations, allowed to offer whatever he needs to in order to bring the Waynes’ Omega back home be it money, job opportunities, properties, etc.

His signature dazzling smile was extinguished when one of your Beta “packmates” slammed the door in his face and he looked up to see you pouring a bucket of water down on him, leaving him soaked.

After that, he tries to approach your “pack” in public settings, like cafes and restaurants, but he’s quickly shut down each time, being told that they’ll never let them near you.

He decides being “polite” isn’t getting him anywhere, so he decides to visit your “pack” as Nightwing, determined to intimidate them or even put them into the hospital so he can come and “rescue” you from being packless.

That plan goes south when you tackle him in mid-air, clad in your mold armor. At first, Dick tries to convince you that there’s no need to fight, but when he sees all you want is to fight, he relies on his acrobat skills to evade your attacks and try to tire you out, but you manage to wrap a tendril around his ankle and hurl him as hard as you can into the Mojave.

(Un)fortunately, he manages to survive, but he’s forced to retreat for now until he and his pack can come up with another plan.

Barbara takes the news just as hard as the others, but she’s a bit torn about it. While she’s a legitimate member of the Wayne Pack as everyone else, she’s also a member of the Gordon Pack; she may see Bruce as a father figure and a mentor, she fiercely loves and is loyal to her actual father and Bruce would never take that away from her.

She understands that none of them treated you like a part of the pack and you were well within your rights to find another pack (she felt sick to her stomach when she learned that their treatment of you resulted in your presentation as an Omega being withheld), she’s just as deluded as the others and firmly believes that you’re their Omega and is just as determined to bring you back to the manor as the others.

While the others take more direct methods of bringing you back, she decides that the best way of getting you back will be to ruin your pack’s reputation.

Listing them as the most wanted on every law enforcement agency in the world, fabricating arrest warrants, scheduling them for trials, she does it all.

That falls through when you, with all your computer knowledge, not only deletes all of her work, but actually pulls a Reverse Uno on her, calling on the FBI to come and raid the manor, Wayne Enterprises, and her library.

She’s actually impressed at your capabilities and she’s be more impressed if you hadn’t also gone after her dad, making false reports of embezzlement and corruption, leading to her home being raided and her dad being arrested. Of course, the charges didn’t stick and he was let go, but going after her dad makes it personal to her.

She also didn’t like it when you used the Megamycete’s roots to damage both the library and the Clocktower.

To say Jason is pissed is an understatement; he’s angry at himself for being such a dumbass, pissed at Bruce for failing to be a decent dad again, pissed at your new “pack” for thinking they have any right to you, and even at you for replacing them.

He quickly squashes that last thought because he knows none of them could even be bothered to glance in your direction, so you didn’t “replace” them because the pack bonds were never there, so there was nothing to be replaced.

At first, he’s deeply conflicted at how to go forward with this because yes, he does want you back and wants to make amends and treat you like the precious Omega you deserve, but he knows how batshit crazy and horrible they all are and he understands that need to get away from them and be somewhere you feel cared for.

This conflict is short-lived, however, when his delusions win out and he joins the bandwagon on finding a way to bring you back to the manor.

He tries the direct route once; he approached you and your pack while you were out eating at one of Vegas’ finer restaurants to celebrate a successful night of gambling. It ended with you tackling him and repeatedly punching him in the face that you dislocated his jaw and gave him one hell of a black eye.

Anyone else, he’d be pissed, but you? He’s actually proud. He remembers giving you a black eye when you two first met (something that haunts him at night) and thinking you were some weak little brat. After being taken down by you? He’s sure you’re one of the strongest people he’s ever known and he wants to know everything about you.

(Side note: I had this thought after the first A/B/O Batfam post and I think I’ll use this opportunity to make it canon here: Jason is the Left Hand of the Wayne Pack. Dick is the right Hand, meaning he acts as the pack’s second in command and the first to assume leadership should something happen to Bruce; Dick’s also allowed to negotiate and make major decisions concerning the pack when Bruce sends him to act on his behalf. As the Left Hand, Jason is to deal with threats to the pack and seek retribution; he gets his hands dirty so Bruce and Dick’s hands remain clean.)

He decides to deal with your “pack” as both Red Hood and the Wayne Pack’s Left Hand. As much as he hates to do it, he intends to use your Omega biology aginst you; Omega’s get super attached to their packs and the sudden murder of all those assholes will send you into a depressive spiral and while you’re mourning their deaths, they’ll swoop in and bring you back to the manor. Chances are you’ll never be the same again, but he’ll be there to help you every step of the way.

That plan goes south when he finds you after breaking in, pointing guns at him. He may be an expert with all types of firearms, but you have the knowledge of expert marksmen throughout the ages swimming through your head, making you more than capable than him. He flees through a flurry of bullets. Under normal circumstances, he’d return fire and give his attacker hell, but his attacker in this case is his pack’s Omega, so he’ll fall back for now.

Tim is just as possessive as Bruce is; he comes from a high class family that takes its possessions seriously and doesn’t take lightly to them being “stolen,” especially because such inferiors. He’s not about to take this lying down and is ready to do whatever he has to do so he can have an Omega around him.

As is typical of Tim, he first delves into research, learning everything there is to know about these thieves. Within the span of a few hours, he has their entire lives memorized and filed into his personal server. Needless to say, he’s throughly unimpressed with all of them; they’re all ordinary and just one of millions around the world. The Alpha barely has any financial literacy and has no influence, so this pathetic little pack will always be mediocre. The Betas are even less impressive, with forgettable faces, minimal marketable skills, and no noteworthy talents.

Just what is it that makes you so attracted to them? Sure, he knows that their treatment of you was unforgivable and you should hate them, but come on Y/N, you’re a male Omega, for god’s sake! You’re a jewel many would kill and pay billions for! Did their neglect of you leave with you such low self esteem and sense of worth?

After a little more digging, he realizes that you don’t care about money or influence; while he’s seething with rage, he’s capable of seeing that they treat with you love and respect. They pull you into the living room and surround you while watching some movie you picked; include you in on every conversation, even if you don’t have anything to say on the matter; and scent you every time one of them passes you by or reaches for something.

It also helps that all of you share common interests, primarily video games and he hates them even more with that discovery. He’s played many games with the Titans and keeps up-to-date on all the latest news on games and studios; he’s more than capable of talking about games than them and would make a better co-op partner than all of them put together! And he’s more than capable for getting you the latest consoles and games way before they’re put on the market!

With each interaction, he thinks back to every gala, family dinner, and movie night they had and each one lacks any you being a part of it. Just how did you survive your time at the manor, constantly being reminded that no one wanted or even remembered you being there? It’s no wonder your Omega refused to present, chances are you would’ve withered away from the neglect.

Regardless, what’s done is done and he can’t take back what’s happened; he can only move forward and try to rebuild his broken bonds with you. And he can only do that if he brings you back to Gotham, where you belong.

Despite past failures, he opted to try the polite way; using his stalker abilities, he managed to meet with your pack at a restaurant while you were at your old home doing work and presented them with several options, consisting of large payments, guaranteed lifetime employment at any Wayne Enterprises or Drake Industries owned subsidiary, immediate ownership of any dwelling in the world they desired and assistance on all expenses, and many more.

They laughed in his face and told him you were a part of their pack and a true pack doesn’t treat a member like a thing to be bought and sold.

While he admired the sentiment and commended them for seeing your worth, he wasn’t about to let them get away with keeping you from your real pack. Like all Alphas, he’s capable of getting angry, but unlike other Alphas, his anger runs cold while other Alphas’ anger runs hot; while he is capable of physical violence and has quite the punch (a must in his job as a vigilante), his parents taught him that the real way to go after his enemies is to go after their reputation and livelihoods.

That’s how many of his fellow high society Alphas handled things, exposing hidden scandals and ruining businesses; say what you will, it’s incredibly satisfying as a person realizes they’ve lost everything and their name tarnished forever.

So, that’s how he goes about handling these inferiors and when they realize they have nothing, they’ll beg him for his deal and offer you up to them on a silver platter; either that, or you’ll realize you’re wasting your time with these pathetic wastes of space and look for another pack, giving them an opportunity to convince you to come home.

He goes about ruining the various businesses that your “pack” work at (how pathetic, they’re workers and not owners), but he finds that you’ve safeguarded everything behind thick firewalls, leaving him unable to hack and ruin their systems.

He then decides to ruin your pack bonds, planting seeds of doubt about your place as their Omega; for someone like him; it’s child’s play to fabricate false pictures of your packmates meeting with another Omega, fake texts and phone calls of them badmouthing you, and even planting articles of clothing with another Omega’s scent in their bags.

What he didn’t expect was for you to storm the Drake Industries building during a board meeting, clad in mold armor and wings, drag him out and hold him over the skyline, and tell him you knew what he had done and threaten him should he ever do it again.

Actually, your exact words were, “I know you’re a pathetic creep with no life of your own, Tim, and doing shit like this is something only you’d think of doing cause you can’t stand to see someone else happy. Get your own life and stay out of mine, or I tear your head off, shove it in jar, and send it to that freak Ra’s to keep next to your spleen.”

Ok, he wasn’t expecting you to know about that. Or about what words can cut him deeper than any blade.

Still, he learned something new about you. And with each new discovery, he comes closer to finding a way of bringing you back home.

Steph and Cass react the same way to the news: poorly. Both of them know that they never treated you like a packmates while you were still living here, but to just become part of some pack on the other side of the country is a little much for them to handle.

Steph is angry at the thought of just being replaced, actually forgetting that she did the same to you after a week of her living in the manor while Cass actually becomes depressed because she feels like she’s been abandoned (again), but she knows that she has no right to feel this way after she did the same to you.

The two of them partner up, aiming to take down your pack so that you have no one to turn to, but they quickly find out that you’re more than capable of taking them both on.

(Note: look, I know there’s barely anything here, but this post is long enough and I’ve stated before that my knowledge of Steph and Cass is minimum at best. Cut me some slack.)

Once the news reaches Damian, he becomes enraged and rushes to the Batcave some he can lash out at some poor training dummy with his sword.

It enrages him to no end to learn that his blood brother and pack Omega has not only become part of another pack, but a pack of inferior stock! Come on, brother, you’re of noble blood! Don’t sully yourself by associating with this common, low stock rabble!

When he begins to observe your interactions with you, his rage burns brighter and hotter. His skin itches every time they touch you; his teeth grind to a near powder every time you smile at them; and his eyes twitch every time you look at them.

And when he sees that you’ve created a nest in your room and allow them entry? He howls loud enough to call everyone in the manor to him.

An Omega’s nest is a sacred place, one that an Omega feels safe and secure, comforted by soft and plush things to nestle against their sensitive skin and lulled by the scents of those they trust the most; to be allowed into an Omega’s nest is an honor unlike any other and the ultimate sign of trust. All Alphas strive to be allowed to enter an Omega’s nest as there’s no greater measure of intimacy and trust before mating.

To see you bestow that privilege to these… pretenders actually brings tears to his eyes while he howls in rage.

He knew that the rest of his pack had failed, but that sight forced him to ignore his sire and go to that disgusting cesspit called Vegas and bring you back to your senses. Your proper place is at Wayne Manor in Gotham, not a pathetic little hovel in this hideous city.

He expected to be met with heavy resistance once the door opened, but he didn’t expect you to scruff him like some ill-behaved pup, pick him up by the neck, and toss him like some piece of trash and berate him for entire neighborhood of lowborn scum to gawk at. Yes, he acknowledges that his treatment of you was… less than stellar, but that doesn’t change the fact that you and him share blood and that ties you to both him and his sire.

Unlike the rest of his pack and Drake, he doesn’t bother to negotiate with those inferiors you call “pack” because he doesn’t see the need in asking for what’s his by rite of birth. You’re his blood brother and his Omega, no matter what the laws of that miserable little backwater say.

He decides the best way to make his sincerity known is by proving you with materials for your pack, which is a traditional League courting ritual; by providing an Omega with materials for their nest, you show them that your commitment to them is true and if they use your gift for their nest, it shows that the Alpha that they trust you enough to allow you into their most private of places (both literally and figuratively).

So, he uses his connections to purchase many blankets and pillows made of the finest silks from various luxury nest supply stores, both within Gotham and back in his homeland, all of it costing a small fortune. He intends to show you that only he and his pack (and even Drake) are capable of giving you what you truly need, what you truly deserve.

To say to cut his ego when you threw all his gifts into the fire pit out back and light it on fire is a gross understatement. He holds his mother’s teachings in high regard, especially about how he would go about courting and interacting with various members of his pack, and to see you reject his gift, reject him, hurts him far more than any injury he received during his training.

When he returned home after that, he quietly went p to his room and, for the first time in years, wept, the sting of being rejected by someone he now holds dear to heart making him feel lower than dirt.

Ok, that ended up being WAY longer than I thought. Now, let’s just briefly go over you having a mate. For this scenario, let’s say you met an Alpha in Vegas that doesn’t have a pack and when he saw you, he just had to court you and after seeing him treat you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, you decide to accept his courting offer. Sorry if you were expecting another short novel like up above, but this took way too long and my attention is starting to wane.

Bruce: doesn’t like it one bit and actually has the audacity to tell you to break it off because he’s your Alpha and father, so any and all suitors must go trough him first, but he firmly believes all you need is him and your siblings and he’s not going to let anything come between you and your pack.

Dick: bitch actually has the nerve to say your Alpha’s stealing you away from your true pack and doesn’t actually love you. You backhand the shit out of him for that and yell that he doesn’t;t know what love is.

Barbara: while she knows that you want to find someone to give you the love and affection they denied you for years, she doesn’t want to give you up and aims to remove your mate from the equation by using her computer skills, but you prove to be far better than her when you fry not only her computers, but the GCPD’s as well, leaving her to pick up the pieces.

Jason: he tries to go after your Alpha-to-be, but you quickly prove yourself more than capable of defending him and showing Jason that a pissed off Omega is just as dangerous as an angry Omega.

Steph: she’s delighted to see Bruce nearly have a heart attack and give him a few extra grey hairs; seriously, show her your ways. But, she’s not thrilled to see you on the arm of some strange Alpha. Come on, she can choose someone way better for you. Granted, she firmly believes that ll you need are them, but she can help you envision a relationship.

Cass: absolutely does not approve and lets you know through sign language. You a part of her pack and this intruder will not be tolerated. Will probably partner up with Jason to take him out.

Tim: stalks the ever loving shit out of both of you in an effort to find a way to break you up, but you quickly corner him and insult him by calling him a freak with no life.

Damian: oh, little brat loses his shit and tries to do to him what he attempted to do to you when the two of you first met. Of course, you grab hold of the sword and snatch it in two and use part of it to nearly decapitate him, resulting in a scar that just misses his scent gland.

Alfred: while he’s so happy to see that you found someone who wish to be with and that someone in this family has a healthy relationship, he still believes that your proper place in with your father and his pack, so he will aid in the attempt to separate the two of you.

Ok, not my best work, but what can you do? Kinda burned myself out with the first half of this post. I may do another mate post if there’s a high enough demand for it and if anyone has an idea on who your mate should be, feel free to live a comment. Keep in mind only male options will be considered.

Also, for the mate thing, keep in mind that when it comes to A/B/O, nothing’s off-limits and typically, what we consider taboo is considered “normal.” So, could one of the Wayne men consider forcing a mating bite on you if it meant bringing you back to the fold? After all, Omegas are subservient to their Alpha mates.

Just food for thought.

[sitepathos]

Yandere Alpha Batfamily and Omega Male Reader

Been on a bit of an A/B/O kick on AO3 on the last few days, so here’s this. Enjoy it while waiting for the next chapter of From Gold to Mold!

The Wayne Pack is the most famous pack in Gotham and is one of the most influential packs both in America and in the world, not only due to its wealth, connections, and resources, but because it’s populated almost entirely of Alphas (Alfred is a Beta), with Bruce earning the nickname “Alpha of Alphas.”

Everyone knows that Alphas are biologically hardwired to give orders, not take them, but Brave managed to find a way to reign them in and Gotham is in awe that Bruce Wayne was able to raise several Alphas and lead them into high profile galas, auctions, and other events. They also fawn over the fact that everyone in the Wayne Pack has the perfect blend of looks, intelligence, and body.

Needless to say, the Wayne Pack is a pack many wish to join, especially Gotham’s elite. People by the thousands would sacrifice a limb if it meant being a part of such a prestigious pack.

You were the consequence of a one-night stand between Bruce Wayne and a rising romance author Beta woman.

Just like in From Gold to Mold, your mother dies from a drunk driver on the day of your sixth birthday and after a DNA test showed you to be the son of Bruce Wayne, Alfred came to Goodsprings and you were brought to Gotham to live at Wayne Manor.

You always wished to have a Daddy when your friends talked about theirs and now, you were about to be welcomed with open arms.

Needless to say, you were extremely hurt when he barely acknowledged you and walked off, telling Alfred he was going out.

Alfred told you he was dealing with a lot, namely the untimely death of his pup, Jason, and that he just needed time.

Almost a week after you moved in, Bruce adopted Tim Drake and treated him with love and affection. You greeted Tim, hoping to have someone other than Alfred to talk to, but he just gave you a once-over before following Bruce.

You stood by and watched as the two of them would sneak away to the library and stay in there for hours, especially at night.

After a month, when the two of them made their way to the library, you tried to follow and begged Bruce to allow you to join them, clinging to his arm and tears streaming down your cheeks. All you wanted was just a little bit of his love that he shows Tim.

You realized that was never going to happen he shoved you to the floor, growling at you and baring his fangs, his Alpha instincts on full display. And Tim just stood there and said nothing; in fact, he almost seemed to approve.

They didn’t even watch you as you scrambled to get up and run away as fast as you could, fat tears and loud sobs following you as you retreat to your room.

Time passes and as Bruce welcomes more orphans into his house and treats them like his own children, you withdraw more and more into your distant corner of the manor, where only Alfred deigns to tread. And not only do all of them eventually present as Alphas, but they all possess talents, wit, and charm that add to the Wayne Pack’s prestige and social standing.

Then there’s you, smelling of nothing, meaning you’re a mere Beta. Hell, you feel less than that since Alfred’s a Beta and he’s arguably the one who keeps the Wayne Pack functioning. You’re average in every way possible, and in a pack like the Wayne Pack, that’s unforgivable.

You can do nothing but listen as they pile into the pack nest room where they scent one another, eat a stupid amount of fast food and desserts, and laugh at some movie they put on. After the first dozen times, you learned that you’ll never be invited because you’re not pack.

The final straw came when the bane of your existence, Damian Wayne, came to live at the manor. When he tried to kill you with that sword of his and was just carried away and Dick was telling you to turn the other cheek, you realized that no one cares about you and staying in Gotham would ultimately lead to your death.

The next few years play out as they do in From Gold to Mold, complete with the Pen Incident with Damian, your kidnapping and almost murder, and you becoming the host of the Megamycete.

However, when you enter your house in Goodsprings and all the memories come flooding back, you feel an odd sensation coursing throughout your body, like being set aflame, and you smell something sweet, like Alfred’s baking.

It’s thanks to the Megamycete’s archives that you learn that you’ve just presented as an Omega. Specifically, a male Omega, which is less than 1% of the Omega population and is a highly sought after commodity.

You remember from senior biology lesson that Omegas apparently have a built-in defense mechanism; if a would-be Omega feels that their current environment is unable to accommodate their physical, mental, and emotional needs, so much to the point that their life is in danger, they will refuse to present, going as far as imitating Betas until they’re in a proper environment that they feel safe in.

You freak out, knowing that Omegas are looked down on by most of the world and Gotham is ranked one for the worst places to be an Omega due to the residents of Arkham and the archaic laws that deem Omegas unable to function in the outside world and must be kept inside to “shield their fragile hearts and tender souls.”

If it gets out that you’re an Omega, you’ll most likely be sent back to the Waynes and while they may advocate for Omega rights and sponsor many Omega shelters, they’d most likely make an exception in your case and continue treating you like shit.

Hell, they might even throw you on the streets, knowing no one in Gotham would hire an Omega. Or sell you off to one of their rich friends to further their standing in Gotham’s high society.

Then, you learn that Nevada was actually one of the first places to give Omegas equal rights as the state relies on gambling for revenue. They figured that allowing Omegas to work would lead to them using said money at one of the state’s various casinos. And many casinos saw the appeal in hiring Omegas to work in their game rooms, luring countless Alphas in to gamble and drink their hard earned money away.

For the first time in years, you finally felt happy.

For the next four years, the Wayne Pack loses its cohesion. Bruce loses his temper more easily and is more often than not unable to get his children to follow his orders; Dick struggles to keep the peace between Bruce and his siblings; Barbara fails to fulfill her role as Oracle; Jason seems to blow up at everyone for no reason (except Alfred); Tim withdraws more and more from the family; Cass has a hard time focusing on anything, be it ballet or crime fighting; Steph’s usual witty remarks become more harsh and scathing; and Damian refuses to let anyone near him, only allowing Alfred and his loyal pets into his personal space.

Bruce is at his wit’s end at the state of his pack, all his efforts to bring them together only drive them apart. And he can’t shake the feeling that there’s something missing. Something that he never noticed, but was apparently extremely important.

His burning desire to solve this mystery is satisfied when he discovered a gaming magazine mixed in with his newspapers (Alfred claims it’s one of the children’s and must’ve gotten mixed up with Bruce’s papers, but Alfred totally arranged for that to happen) and when he took a good look at the cover, he saw an older version of you staring back at him.

“This is Y/N,” he asks Alfred, totally baffled at what you look like. “That can’t be him! He’s not old enough!”

“And how old do you think he is, sir,” the butler retorts, an eyebrow raised.

Bruce is capable of answering thousands of questions with highly detailed answers almost instantly, but this one makes him freeze due to him not having an answer.

You were… how old when you first moved in? When was that? How old are you? Wait, when is your birthday? And what is your scent? Actually, when was the last time he talked to you?

As he slowly realizes that he knows less than nothing about you, from your birthday to your age to your scent. He bolts out of his office and to the family’s wing of the manor, but he discovers that the only occupied rooms belong to his children and the room next to his has been unoccupied for over a decade.

He frantically asks Alfred where your room is, quickly leading to the others coming to see Bruce almost on his knees and begging to see you, someone none of them have even thought about in years.

Without uttering a word, Alfred leads them to your old room and all of them are ashamed to learn that you spent years in some dingy guest room with a bed that’s barely large enough for a child, let alone a young adult.

“Where’s Y/N,” Bruce asks, trying to keep his composure. “Is he in Gotham?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. Master Y/N left the manor after his graduation (many of them whimper when they learn they missed your graduation) and moved back to his childhood home.” He pauses and when it sinks in they don’t even know where you lived prior to moving into the manor, he adds, “Goodsprings, Nevada.”

It takes everything Bruce has, but he’s able to force his kids to remain in Gotham while he travels to Metropolis so he can attend your award ceremony and convince you to return to his pack where you belong. As he travels, he has Alfred arrange for the unoccupied room to be turned into a proper room for you, complete with anything you might need. He also plans for you and him to have some quality time with each other before the others fight one another over who gets to have you next.

When you finally take the stage to accept your award and give your speech, he realizes something unexpected: you’re an Omega.

Omegas are barely 10% of the global population and males are practically nonexistent and any that are found are quickly scooped up by opportunistic Alphas.

How could he not have known that?! Even if none of them have spent any time with you during your time at the manor, the smell of an Omega would’ve been smelled by someone. Especially Alfred. Lord knows nothing gets past that man.

Were you taking suppressants? And what kind? And how many times a day? If you’ve been taking them since you presented, there’s no telling what kind of damage has been done to your body!

As he begins to draft up a recovery plan for long term suppressant use, it dawns on him that anyone with a functioning nose can smell the tantalizing sweet smell Omegas are known for. Why aren’t you on suppressants now? Did you run out? Or is it too dangerous for you to take them anymore?

Questions begin to pile on top of one another and as much as he’s glad to hear your voice, he wants the ceremony to wrap up quickly so he can take you into his arms and carry you back to the manor so he can burn your scent into his memory and smother you in his scent.

As the ceremony continues, he hears many Alphas in the audience talking among themselves, all of them wishing to drag you into their beds and knot you. It takes everything in him not to break every one of their jaws and ruin your night.

You’re his son and his pack’s Omega! Anyone wanting to court you will have to go through him and your siblings and there’s no one in this galaxy or the next that will ever be worthy of you! Besides, he and your siblings are all you need!

While many of Gotham’s elite consider Omegas to be status symbols and breeding tools, the Wayne Pack is one of the very few to consider Omegas something to be cherished and valued; Omegas bring life into the world and nurture pups and help bring stability into a pack, no matter the personal cost to them.

All packs yearn to have an Omega and while he’s denied any such need, he’s yearned to add an Omega to his pack that they can all trust and work with due to their nightly activities.

It pains him beyond words to know he scorned such a perfect, beautiful gift and he intends to spend the rest of his life atoning for it.

Finally, the ceremony ends and he manages to find you and he commits very detail about you to memory (he’s saddened to see you inherited none of his physical traits and with you using your mother’s maiden name, there’s nothing showing you’re his pup), from the way you stand to the way you look… horrified at the sight of him.

He tries to speak, to apologize for his actions, to beg you to come home, but he barely gets you name past his lips when you throw your glass at him. He can only watch in horror as you berate him for being here and yelling for him to get away from you.

“Y/N, please. We know we messed up… that I messed up. But things will be different, I swear! Just come home, Y/N! We’re a mess without you—“

“Oh, you people are so dysfunctional that the only way you can live together is if you have someone to take your insecurities and shortcomings out on? And it’s fine that it’s me because I’m an Omega since that’s my lot in life?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that—“

Before he knows it, you’ve backhanded him so hard, black spots dance across his field of vision and before he can recover, you shove him hard and he falls onto the floor. When he looks up, he sees a look on you he’s only seen on Jason and himself: pure rage; the kind that leads to people being seriously injured or dead. It’s also then he smells the putrid stench of hate-pain-rage wafting off you; the smell is so thick that it catches in his lungs and leaves him unable to take a breath.

Before you can do anything else, security comes and separates the two of you. At first, they were going to escort you out for daring to strike an Alpha (New York has strict laws about Omega behavior in public, though not as strict as Gotham), but Lex-fucking-Luthor swooped in and told them to let you go.

“An Omega should never be treated like some common criminal,” he says in an infuriatingly sweet tone. “And it seems to me Bruce Wayne was asking for it.” He holds out his arm. “Might I have the privilege of your company for the evening, Mr. Gould?”

His vision went red and it took all his self control to keep from growling and tearing the man apart as you take his arm and walk with that son of a bitch. When it became clear he wasn’t going to be get close to you again, he leaves the building and lets his children know that there will be a family meeting when he gets home.

They already knew you were an Omega thanks to countless videos taken during your interaction with Bruce, complete with your throwing your drink at him and slapping and shoving him.

Needless to say, they’re all broken up about how their treatment of you for years led to you forgoing on presenting as an Omega and running away to the other side of the country, far away from them.

Bruce knows he’s not the best father in the world (being called the okayest dad would be extremely generous), but this realization really drives home just how much of a failure of a father he is. Not only did he treat his firstborn son like an intruder, but he drove away a vital piece of his pack away. All he thinks about now is holding you in his arms and never letting you go, showering you in his love and merging your scents into one.

He gets more and more pissed since now that everyone knows the firstborn Wayne son is an Omega, he has all of Gotham’s elite petitioning him everywhere he goes to allow them to court you, offering him money, business opportunities, and various luxury goods.

How dare these parasites think you’re something to be bought and traded! You’re a person, for fuck’s sake!

However, he’s ashamed to admit and he keeps this in the darkest corner of his mind, but he does get possessive and territorial when he thinks of you. He thinks of everyone in his pack as his, no matter how old they are or how much he fucks up, and you, his firstborn son and an Omega sends his Alpha instincts into overdrive.

You’re his and his pack’s and he’s not going to rest until you’re in the pack nest, surrounded by all of them.

And once you’re home and covered in all their scents, he’ll throw the biggest gala Gotham’s ever seen in your honor, showing off the Wayne Pack’s treasured Omega, where everyone can seethe at the fact none of them will ever have you.

Dick got misty eyed when he realized that he all but forgot you existed, but when he saw the video that exposed you as an Omega, he couldn’t hold it back and broke down crying for all to see.

If there’s one thing in life Dick holds sacred, it’s his status as the pack’s big brother; in fact, Bruce knows Dick will do everything possible to keep his siblings safe that he made his eldest son the pack’s Right Hand, a position that makes him Bruce’s second-in-command and the first to take over should anything happen to Bruce.

He loves all his siblings equally and goes out of his way to make sure they’re well-taken care of, from calling them on a weekly basis to picking them up for one-on-one outings.

To see you look at them, look at him, with such hatred and contempt in your eyes makes him feel that he’s failed in his role as the pack’s big brother and Right Hand.

And don’t get him wrong, he’s a major advocate for Omega rights, but the world is a dangerous place and being so far from your pack is just asking for trouble! There’s all sorts of people that would love to prey upon an innocent Omega like you!

“Come on, baby bird, the manor’s your real home! Here, let me come get you, and we can order in and have a movie night just for us!”

Barbara actually throws up when the guilt hits her.

When you moved in, she hadn’t been crippled for too long and she was still dealing with having to retire from being Batgirl; when you first approached her, she lashed out at you and made you, a six-year-old who had just lost his mom and had to move across the country, cry.

Her guilt only grows when it hits her that she had not only the love and attention of her dad, but Bruce’s as well; she’s greedy and she feels disgusted whenever she looks in a mirror.

But she wants to make amends and she’s not going to take no for an answer; she use every trick and resource at her disposal to bring you back into the pack and she’ll be one of the first to give you a big hug.

“I know I’m selfish and you have every right to hate me, hate us, but we need you. And we’ll have you, one way or another.”

Jason, arguably, takes this revelation worse than any of them, potentially surpassing Bruce’s distress.

As Red Hood, he seeks to protect all the people of Crime Alley to the best of his ability, but there’s two types he prioritizes: children and Omegas. Children are powerless, rely on the adults of their lives to protect and provide for them, and are the first to suffer when things go wrong and Omegas are kind hearted creatures that care for all their packmates equally (even when said packmates treat them like shit) and everyone thinks they can walk all over them just because they’re smaller and weaker than the rest of the world.

And everyone knows that if Red Hood catches you hurting a kid or an Omega, not even the Bats will be able to find your body.

He beats himself up as every time he hit, threatened, or insulted you, going as far as to claw his chest, drawing blood as some form of penance for his transgressions.

He was pissed at Bruce for allowing Joker to live after killing him and for replacing him with Tim and he had to take it out on you, thinking you were just like Bruce because you shared his DNA, but he was too blinded by rage to see you were just a kid who was unlucky to lose his mom and have Bruce Wayne as a dad. Had he pulled his head out of his ass, he would’ve seen you were a scared pup looking for someone to hold him and tell him everything would be ok.

You two are so much alike it hurts; hell, he might be more of a brother to you than Damian.

He gets why you want nothing to do with them, trust him, he’s been there. Unfortunately, when the Wayne Pack has its hooks in you, they’re impossible to remove and the more you fight, the more you become ensnared in them.

“Look, kid, I get it, really, I do. But, just come home. Trust me, it’s not worth the headache. If you want, I’ll keep them out for your room until you’re ready for them.”

Tim is beating himself up for not finding out about this sooner.

While you and Damian are Bruce’s biological sons and all of them possess traits that are similar to Bruce, it can be said that Tim is more like Bruce than anyone else in the Wayne Pack, complete with his obsessive need to know everything about the people close to him and his inability to understand the concept of personal space.

He has entire archives on everyone in the Wayne Pack, full of personal observations, psych profiles, likes and dislikes, etc and when he goes to find yours, he discovers he has no file on you. At first, he can’t understand how you could’ve lived in the manor and just fly under his radar, but then his very first interaction with you comes rushing back and he realizes that he never considered you worth his attention and now he’s paying the price for his stupidity.

His parents, both Alphas, never really taught him how to interact with Omegas since they were always busy with work and travel, but after seeing Omegas caring for their pups, he began to long for one; all he wanted from his parents was love, but they were too busy to even glance his way.

But Omegas never neglect anyone, and when he was old enough to take over Drake Industries, he’d get his own Omega and keep them in the lap of luxury so all their time could go to loving him and he’s love them.

Of course, his parents’ death happened and he was adopted by Bruce and became robin, so that dream kinda fell to the wayside, but it was always there, whispering to him whenever he felt like he wasn’t enough. While his job as CEO of Drake Industries and Red Robin takes up all his time, he does allow himself to daydream what it would be like to have an Omega mate.

He was so close to having an Omega and he had to go and ruin it! But, he won’t allow you to remain outside the pack. They need you… he needs you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back into the fold, be it intimidating you by reciting crime rates against Omegas to using your biology against you. After all, Omegas are submissive by nature and he spends his nights intimidating Gotham’s criminals.

And once you’re back, you won;t be able to do anything without him knowing about it and adding it to your file on his computer.

“Did you know that Omegas who remain packless are more likely to become depressed? So, not coming home will do you more harm than good in the long run.”

Steph is known for being a bit of a bitch, but it’s always done in good fun. This time, however, she feels like a total bitch and there’s nothing to be proud about it.

When the two of you first met, she spent some time of you for like a week before discarding you like a puppy that got too big to be considered cute. When she learned that you were normal and not like them, she didn’t see the point in being around you.

But she knows she screwed up and she wants to fix that! You can join her, Babs, and Cass on Girls’ Night, and she’ll show you all the ways to screw with the others, and you can watch her cut all your suitors down to size (metaphorically, of course… but she’ll literally do it if you want her to).

She really wants you to come back; she sees how it’s affecting everyone, which is what happens when a pack is fractured, and it’s really become depressing in the manor, so she’s ready to help bring you back, whether willingly or unwillingly.

“Come on, Y/N, we miss you and you need a pack! Tell you what, I’ll help you get revenge on Damian! I know what really pisses him off!”

Cass has never known what true guilt feels like; sure, when Bruce showed her she didn’t have to be a living weapon, she felt remorse about the pain she caused, but she still had the excuse of her upbringing.

Her total dismissal of you when she deemed you harmless? She has no excuse for that. Bruce was offering her the chance to be in a real pack and because she could tell you had no combat capability or other useful abilities, she deemed you unimportant. A real packmates would embrace all her packmates, not just the “useful” ones.

She’s not the most affectionate member of the Wayne Pack (no one can take that title from Dick) and she still thinks all her hands are capable of doing is hurting people, but she’ll step out of her comfort zone for you; she hug you, hold your hand, scent you all day every ay if it means you coming back to the pack.

And if you want to be alone for a little bit? She’ll stand outside your door, guarding it against any intruder, including Bruce.

She can tell the pack is reeling from your absence, threatening not only their bonds but their ability to protect Gotham. She knows the only way to fix this is by bringing you back home and if she has to do drag you all the way from Goodsprings, she will. She can spend the rest of her life making it up to you.

Damian shows no emotion when the revelation hits home, but on the inside, he’s torn up about how he drove his only blood brother away.

During his time with the League, he grew up thinking he was the only legitimate heir of the Bat, but when he moved to Gotham and learned of your existence, he felt threatened and attempted to eliminate you in order to cement his place as his sire’s true heir; after he found out you were a helpless whelp born of a dalliance between his father and a harlot, he knew his place as the future Alpha of the Wayne Pack was secure and in order to keep you beneath him where you belong, he made your life difficult, insulting you to the point you cry and torturing you with his animals.

Once, he thought having a you for a blood brother was a liability, but now, after spending years with his pack, he now knows he was wrong to treat you so poorly and now wants to repair the damage to your relationship.

And you being an Omega? Well, the League saw Omegas as a means of reproduction, sure, but they were treated with the utmost respect; everyone served a purpose in the League and stressed out Omegas don’t produce quality pups. He’s actually happy you’re an Omega as the pack has enough Alphas and packs with an Omega function far better than those who don’t as Omegas keep the peace and see that all members are cared for.

Actually, you’ll find him seeking you out more because of your designation. Talia wasn’t exactly the most affectionate of mothers and his interactions with his grandfather were always so cold and formal; his time in Gotham showed him wanting to be close to your fellow packmates is nothing to be ashamed of and it makes you stronger, not weaker. And everyone knows physical affection and Omegas go hand in hand.

He’s actually ordered dozens blankets and pillows from several of Gotham’s luxury nest supply stores and has placed several of his and Bruce’s clothes in your room to help you acclimate to your place in the pack (the others tried to put some of their clothes in your room, but he denied it on the grounds that it would overwhelm you) and can’t wait to offer to help you build your nest.

He daydreams of you returning and has drawn up many activities for you two to do, from him painting your portrait to escorting to Gotham’s finest restaurants and museums and educating you on the finer things in life.

He understands that you have every right to hate them, but you can’t escape the fact that Wayne blood courses through your veins, tying you to him, Bruce, and even Gotham itself. You belong back at the manor, with him and your father, and he’ll fight through hell to bring you back to your proper home.

“I know my behavior was unacceptable, brother, but we still share blood. You belong in Gotham, not this pathetic backwater village. It’s time you assume your role as the Wayne Omega.”

As the Bats spiral into madness with their need to bring you home and make amends for their behavior, Alfred watches on. He knew you wanted to return to Goodsprings and your time in Gotham could be considered worse than losing your mother, but you’re still Bruce’s son and a member of the Wayne Pack.

He’s not about to let his packmates’ stupidity chase you away when your place is right here.

And when he learned you’re an Omega? It only strengthened his resolve to bring you back home.

The world is a harsh place for Omegas and while life may have dealt you a bad hand, you still have a good heart and it’s in danger of being stomped out by those who wish you harm.

“I know the manor brings you many bad memories, Master Y/N, but it’s still your proper home. I promise you, things will be different this time.”

[sitepathos]

Alright, so we’re getting very close to the end of the series (don’t ask me for a concrete number of remaining chapters because I’m debating on one or two chapters before the finale) and now, I’m willing to share a little info with you.

I have two endings planned, one where the Bats win and one where you win, and the both will begin the same way, but will end totally differently and I plan on posting them on separately (sorry, but my schedule’s just too crazy right now) and I want to know which one you all want to read first.

So…

[sitepathos]

Hello. I really enjoy your story, "From Mold to Gold". The story is very well written that I could feel the emotions the reader is feeling. Please keep up the good work, but take your time. The real world can be overwhelming, and sometimes, writer's block can get in the way.

I was wondering if you have heard a song called "Thank You for Hating Me" by Citizen Soldier. When I heard that song, it made me think of your story. I imagine the reader going to a karaoke bar in Las Vegas to blow off some steam or something, and when they noticed the batfam there, the reader decided to show them how they feel (takes place after chapter 11). With this song, it would show that the reader is the bigger person form moving on from their past and growing into someone better. At the same time, telling the batfam to leave them alone and paint them in a bad light, even though everyone read The Daily Planet.

I thought this would be a good little one-shot or thought that I had. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Love your story. I can't wait for the next chapter.

#ask #from gold to mold

I swear, when you sent that ask, I was already halfway done with 12 and when I saw Vegas, I legit thought you had future sight, or something! I’m serious, I freaked out a little!

Also, I have to thank you for introducing me to this song! It’s amazing and I swear it could be the song of this entire series! It fits Reader to a T!

But as for your ask, you’d actually do amazing at a karaoke bar since the Megamycete has absorbed so countless people with musical abilities from across the ages, many of them quite talented at singing. If you wanted to, you could easily make a career of it if you wanted to.

But, if you were to perform “Thank You for Hating Me,” you’d definitely look them in the eye the entire time.

While you’re on stage, they can hear the pain, suffering, and hatred in every word. They knew they treated you wrong, but hearing you sing really drives home just how much they hurt you all those years.

Bruce would keep his emotionless mask intact (mostly), but he nearly cries when he hears the line “for making me feel I’m not enough.” It’s then he realizes that he really never took the time to get to know you. When he first met you, he was dealing with Jason’s death by burying himself in his work and he was too stupid to see himself in you that night in Crime Alley; and when his family grew, he still treated you like an outsider because he knew you weren’t fit to be a vigilante with them and you lacked the capability to aid them like Barbara. No matter what excuses he can muster, he made you feel like you were worthless and there’s no changing that.

Dick cries practically during the entire time. Seriously, this song just puts all his insecurities about his treatment of you on blast and he feels even more of a failure of a big brother. The title is what started it and he’s just blubbering, “I can never hate you, baby bird!” If there’s one thing in this life Dick holds dear to his heart, it’s his title as the big brother of the Wayne Family and you singing this song emphasizes that he failed and it’s haunted him ever since Alfred reminded him that you exist.

Jason, while upset over you putting your feelings about them in song form, feels closer to you as the song gives him a glimpse into how you see things. Ever since he learned that you were kidnapped (in his territory, no less) and were beaten to near death and then shot in the head like an animal, he’s been a powder keg just waiting to blow as it brought up all the memories of his death at the hands of Joker. To him, the two of you are kindred spirits, especially since you were brought back to life just like him. He also feels a connection to you when you say the line “for seething me off like a loaded gun” because he’s known his temper has always been his greatest weakness, even before meeting Bruce and when he hears the anger in your voice while you’re on stage, he sees a younger version of himself in you. He’s spent years running his mouth about how there’s no one in the family he can relate to and he was too fucking stupid to see how alike the two of you are.

Tim, while feeling like shit during your performance, spends the time to analyze your singing and he ponders if you were always capable of singing like this (how could he have missed that?!) or if the Megamycete has given you the ability to sing like this? He also can’t help but feel targeted when you look him in the eye when you say the lines “to hide how much you hate yourself,” “go get some help,” and “cause you’re always gonna be alone.” It’s like you know all his insecurities and you know just how to pick at them. Of course, with how they treated you like you didn’t exist for years, it would make sense that you more about them then they previously thought. He’ll have to update his profile on you when he gets back home… after he gets done crying in the shower, of course.

Steph and Cass are both in the same boat because they both cringe at the line “for showing no love” because they’re both guilty of that. Steph used you when she first got to the manor, showing you affection for a week and then discarding you like some toy when she eventually got bored with you because you weren’t a vigilante and Cass didn’t give you a second glance when she deemed you weak and not a threat. Back then, you weren’t a part of the family or even a person to them and now, they’d give anything to go back and fix their mistakes.

Damian, like Bruce, keeps a mask on the entire time, but on the inside, he’s torn up. He knows when he first arrived, he wasn’t the friendliest person and his upbringing with the LoA didn’t have room for any familiar affections. He grew up with knowledge that he was the rightful heir to the Bat and the Demon, but when he learned of your existence, he felt threatened as it would make sense that the firstborn son would inherit his legacy and so he attacked you. And once he found out you had no training and no way to defend yourself, he went out of his way to demean you so you would never rise above your station and threaten his position as the next head of the Wayne Family. But, in recent years, he’s learned the importance of family and has slowly come to respect and build a rapport with each of his siblings… even Drake. But due to his arrogance, he scorned you, his only blood brother, and has no idea on how he’s going to fix it.

Will this change their minds about bringing you back to Gotham and convince them to leave you alone once and for all? Hell no. They’re too far into their delusions and there’s no way of bringing them out of it. All it does is just add fuel to the fire.

Also, people record this and post it online, one video titled “Forgotten Wayne Blasts Neglectful Family.” It gets 50m views within an hour of its posting.

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 12: The Fight (Warning: this chapter will feature blood and violence. Proceed at your own risk)

“Look at all this,” you whisper as you take in the sights of the Strip, all the various casinos and hotels lighting up the night sky. “I returned to Nevada four years ago and I’ve never been here before. What the hell was I thinking?”

(You were trying to set up your new life, which was the responsible thing to do back then. But, we agree, coming here sooner would not have been unwelcome. This city seems to be a source of endless entertainment.)

You had finished the DLC for Salvage Rights earlier today and to celebrate both its release and its positive reception, you decided to treat yourself by going to Sin City and indulging in its various casinos and restaurants; you have the knowledge and experience of countless gamblers from Gotham, so you should be able to play blackjack and poker with the best of them.

You thought you were prepared to handle and glitz and glamor Vegas has to offer, but seeing it with your own eyes has left you speechless. The lights have you mesmerized and you’re loving it! Everywhere you look, there’s something beckoning you, like a moth to a flame and right now, you don’t care if you get burned.

“Hey, look over there,” you say, stopping to look at something above you in the distance.

The sight is a towering building proudly bearing the name “Caesar’s Palace” in lights. During your brief research for your trip to the Strip, you read Caesar’s Palace is one of the most popular casinos in the city and is also a popular destination for dining.

(You did say you wanted the “full Vegas experience.” Going to one of the largest establishments in the city would be a step in the right direction.)

When you first thought of this little excursion, you wanted to have fun, but didn’t want to get trapped in the larger ones and lose all the money you brought in with you, instead opting to stay in the smaller casinos. “Keep it simple, keep it safe,” you said a few hours ago.

Now, the lights of the massive casino before you has ensnared you and is luring you towards it like an angler fish does with its prey.

“Ave, true to Caesar,” you say as you begin the trek towards the towering monolith.

If the outside was mesmerizing, then the inside is absolutely enthralling! As expected of a place named after a Greek emperor, the interior looks like a palace plucked from the Greek Empire, complete with marble and gold, making you feel like royalty.

(We take it we are going to play here?)

“Damn right,” you say as you enter the casino part of the resort, taking in the seemingly endless rows to slot machines, card tables, and other various gambling set ups.

As you look at each slot machine and table, you’re flooded with information from the Megamycete’s archives on what you want to see when playing slot machines and when is the best time to stand when playing blackjack. While Gotham doesn’t have shit on Vegas, it did have a passable gambling scene, which attracted many expert gamblers to that City of the Damned.

With your newfound knowledge in hand, you exchange the thousand bucks you brought with you for chips and make your way to a roulette table with only one other person.

“Good evening, sir,” the dealer greets you as you situate yourself of the other side of the table, away from the other player. “Will you be joining us?”

“Deal me in,” you respond, pushing a few chips on the table to test the waters. You may know the basics from playing Fallout New Vegas, but this is real life with real money being risked and this time you don’t have a maxed out Luck stat to cheat the system with.

A few hands in and you can say for sure you love gambling. Sure, you’ve lost a few rounds, ruining a couple hot streaks, but right now, you have more money than you came in with.

“Fifteen, odd, black,” the dealer says when the ball finally stops spinning before giving you the pot, much to your delight.

“Goddamn it,” the other man exclaims, shoving himself away from the table and storming off, hopefully towards the exit as tonight has not been his night.

“I apologize for that display,” the deal says as he readies the spinner for the next round. “Will you be playing another round?”

“Definitely,” you respond, sliding three-hundred dollars worth of chips onto red.

“Have room for one more,” a masculine voice rings out next to you.

You tense up when the voice registers in your head and you look to your right to see Bruce fucking Wayne, looking down at you with that fake ass smile he gives the idiots of Gotham. Your anger only intensifies when he places a thousand dollars worth of chips into the pot.

What the hell is he doing here?

(How dare he,) the Megamycete practically growls. (This is a night meant for you to enjoy yourself and he intrudes upon it, and in your city no less.)

“Welcome, Mr. Wayne,” the dealer says as he spins the spinner after the bastard places his bet.

“Hello, Y/N,” he says to you, his focus on you and not the spinner. “I have to say, I don’t peg you as the gambling type.”

You say nothing, not wanting to give him any sort of satisfaction, and focus on the game.

“It’s a very dangerous habit if you’re not careful,” he chides you as the baller begins to slow down. “And coming to a place like Vegas? It’s not safe for someone like you. You should be back home, where you belong.”

You know the “home” he’s referring to isn’t your house in Goodsprings, but Wayne Manor in Gotham and it’s taking all your willpower not to pimp smack the shit out of him right now. This was meant to be a night for you to have fun in Vegas and you’re not gonna let him ruin that like he did the night you won your award.

“Gotham has plenty of high-end casinos where you can play all the games you want. I could take you to each of them and make sure you get the VIP treatment.”

“Vegas is far safer than Gotham,” you retort. “Here, the biggest threat you face is losing your money when you don’t know when to quit. In Gotham, you have nut jobs running around killing people on a nightly basis and the biggest nut job of them all beating the crap out of them.” You give him a mocking look, knowing something that would get under his skin. “No one in their right mind would live in that cesspit of a city. If you ask me, that place should be nuked to hell.”

While he manages to hide it well, you can see just the faintest of winces and you let your smirk show. For whatever reason, he thinks Gotham is the best place on the planet and is worth protecting. You learned about Gotham’s seedy history from its early days as a colony established in 1635 and you can say for certain that area is cursed. If you had your way, a giant wall would be built around Gotham and everyone inside would be left to kill each other and rot in that cursed city, especially the Waynes.

“Gotham has its flaws, sure,” he responds. “But I’m able to look past its dark side and see a bright future for both the city and everyone that calls it home. As you know, Wayne Enterprises has been the vanguard of breathing new life into the city.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I heard WE’s stock has practically become worthless in the last few days. Rumor has it all major stockholders are demanding for you to step down as CEO.”

“I’ve been in tight spots before and I’ve always come out on top. This will be no different. I’m sure things will turn back around in no time.”

“Six, even, black,” the dealer announces, bringing you back to the game. “Congratulations, Mister Wayne.”

You roll your eyes as the pot goes to the son of a bitch. You mentally shake your head and place your chips on the table for the next round.

“Maybe you should step down,” you say as the dealer begins the round. “I was stuck in that manor of yours for over a decade and I know it’s a mess. You should really get your house in order before you go around ‘fixing’ Gotham.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my family,” he growls. “It’s perfect the way it is.”

“No one’s buying that story anymore, Mister Wayne. I take it you haven’t read Lois Lane’s latest article?”

“Of course I have,” he says, glaring at you and it makes you want to laugh knowing how you’re testing his limits. “How could you say those things about your family?”

“You’re not my family,” you snap. “You all made it quite clear I wasn’t a part of it over and over. The only family I’ve ever had was Momma and she was taken from me.”

The anger in his eyes fade and he was silent for a moment. “I know we made mistakes during your time with us and we’re sorry about that.”

“It’s too little, too late, Mister Wayne.”

“Twenty-four, even, black,” the dealer states, clearly more interested in your conversation than the game.

You can’t help but smile as the chips make their way back to you and you place a bet of five-hundred for the next round. Of course, Bruce doesn’t go way and instead places another bet.

“Please, Y/N, come home,” he pleads as the spinner is spun. “We all miss you. Especially Alfred.”

“He’s welcome to visit me whenever he wants. The rest of you can go to hell.”

“Like it or not, they’re your siblings, Y/N,” he growls, getting closer to you. “And I’m your father. You will show them, and me, the respect that entails.”

“Respect is earned, not given,” you retort, getting close and looking up at him. He may terrify Gotham’s criminally insane, but you know you’re better than him in every way, so you’re not scared. “And don’t get it mixed up, you’re a sperm donor, not my father. God knows you never acted like it.” You lean close so that your face is mere inches away from his. “If you want, we can take this outside, Mister Wayne. Just remember what happened last time things got physical between us.”

“Now, now, gentlemen,” the dealer says. “Let’s keep this friendly. We’re all here to have fun, right?”

(Listen to him, Y/N. Do not let him ruin your first trip to Vegas. There will be plenty of time to put him in his place after we have had our fun.)

You continue to stare at him and direct all your anger and hatred towards him until he finally concedes and backs off and you do the same, just in time for the ball to finally stop.

“Nineteen, odd, red,” the dealer says as he slides the chips to you.

“I just want to make things right,” he says as he places his bet. “I know I treated you wrong and I want to fix that. So we can be father and son.”

You roll your eyes at the pathetic words and even more pathetic look as you place your bet and the deal begins the round. “You’re not sorry, Mister Wayne, you just feel guilty. Whatever conscious you have in your twisted little soul is making you feel bad and you can’t stand it, so that’s why you’re humiliating yourself trying to earn something I can never and will never give you: my forgiveness.”

He winces enough for both you and the dealer to see, but you find yourself taking no joy in fracturing his mask. This was supposed to be a night of fun and games, but he had to come all the way from Gotham and ruin it. It’s actually made you despise him even more, a task you thought impossible until now.

“Twelve, even, red,” the dealer states as he slides the chips towards Bruce.

It’s then you notice that you and him have almost the same amount of chips and the sight of it ignites an inferno of competition, which fuels your desire to assert your superiority over this pathetic creature before you.

(We are with you,) the Megamycete states firmly. (Show this interloper his place!)

“Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says as you place all your chips on red, your mother’s favorite color, glaring at him as you do. It’s then he does the same thing, but places his chips on black, the color of the Bat.

How predictable.

With both your bets placed, the dealer spins the roulette, signaling the final round between you two. When that little ball stops spinning, one of you will take all and the other will lose all.

“Please, there must be something I can give you to show you I’m sincere. And you of all people should price is no object for me. Just name it and it’s yours.”

(How pathetic! He thinks all those years of abuse and neglect can be erased by buying you some insignificant trinket? Does he think you some whore that can be bought? Show him how wrong he is, Y/N!)

“You want to know what I want, Mister Wayne,” you ask, malice dripping with your every word, as the ball begins to slow down and clatter around. “I want you to know that I hate you more than anything else on this world; I want it to rattle around in your head for the rest of your life, from when you’re around your collection of misfits to when you lay your head down at night, that there’s no word or phrase in any language that has ever existed or ever will exist on this planet that can fully express how much animosity and hatred I have for you.”

It’s then that you get in his personal space has he had done with you earlier and use the mold so you can stretch your body ever so slightly so your face is almost touching him and stare into those eyes you’ve come to despise so much and they stare back at you, full of hurt and shock.

In the background, you can hear the ball beginning to slow down, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the game. Right now, all that matters is conveying just how much you hate Bruce Wayne.

“I want you to grow old and die knowing that, in the end, I was the one that rejected you.”

His response? Nothing but the widening of his eyes and stepping back, as if you had struck him.

“Seven, odd, red,” the dealer says, obviously shocked at what you just said.

You say nothing as you gather your chips and walk away, leaving Bruce Wayne behind to reflect on your words.

As you walk, you notice your heart is beating enough to burst out for your chest and your face is molten hot, even without touching it. In the moment, you had no idea how your words affected you as much as they apparently did that bastard.

(Perhaps we should return home,) the Megamycete suggests. (The night has been ruined and you need to rest after that interaction. We can always return another night for entertainment.)

As much as you hate to admit it, it’s right; after that display, you’re not in the mood to see what else you can get up to in your first night in Vegas. Being around him has brought back much of the anger you thought you had finally buried after moving back to Goodsprings and getting your life together and it’s killed any desire for gambling, dining, and everything in between.

“Yeah,” you say, your voice sounding weak even to you. “Let’s go home.”

You quickly cash in your chips and pocket the check the cashier gives you before making your way towards the exit. From there, you walk around until you find an alleyway tucked into an isolated and desolate part of the city to sprout mold armor and wings before taking off into the night sky.

“You know, the city looks even more breathtaking from up here,” you remark as you enter the vast expanse of the Mojave.

(Indeed. Maybe when we return, we will earn enough money from playing games that we can stay in the highest level of the tallest hotel of the city and see it again.)

“Yeah,” you respond with a throaty chuckle. “That’d be nice.”

You look down at the desert beneath you when you feel something hit your wings, slicing through and severing them, leaving you to fall to the ground. You shout as you harden your armor just in time as you impact with the sand, creating a deep crater.

(Are you alright,) it asks as you climb your way out.

“Yeah,” you respond with a groan. “What the hell happened?”

You get your answer once you make your way to the top and see Bruce, donned in his Batman gear, looking down at you.

“Are you alright,” he asks, as if he wasn’t the cause of the incident.

You dismiss your mold helm and look at him square in his eye slits, taking a deep breath and exhaling before saying, ever so calmly, “I’m going to kill you now.”

And with your intentions declared, you summon a new pair of wings and launch yourself towards the bastard and before he can react, you grab him by the face with one hand and propel the both of you backwards, using to wings to fly as you forcibly shove his head into the sand and push him forward, creating a trail in your wake.

His hands fly to yours and attempt to free himself from your grasp, but you don’t give him the chance and throw him towards a nearby rock formation as hard as you can.

He can only flail around like a rag doll as he flies through the air and lands on the rock formation with a satisfying crash, sending debris and sand flying in all directions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough to keep him down as he’s quickly back on his feet. He reaches into his utility belt and throws a batarang at you and you respond by creating a similar object out of mold and send it flying towards it, the two of them hitting each other and falling to the ground.

Of course, he’s quick to act and before you can see it, he’s thrown something at you and you’re trapped in some kind of cable.

“What the hell,” you exclaim as you try to break free of the wire, but find yourself unable to.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says as he closes the gap between the two of you. “But you’re coming home and I’m gonna find a way to get rid of this thing inside you.”

You’re already pissed, but the way he says something so batshit crazy with a tone similar to one that you’d use to calm a startled animal enrages you even more.

How he can still be so determined to drag you back to Gotham when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you hate him and his family after everything they’ve done to you is nothing short of astounding.

(He seeks to separate us,) the Megamycete practically hisses. (Do not let him! Kill him, Y/N! Kill him!)

Your rage towards the man before you explodes like a blast furnace and you reduce your body to a murder of crows and fly towards Bruce at top speed.

He raises his arms to protect his face and you use your mold hardened beaks and talons to slice into his suit, leaving at least two dozen bloody cuts all over his body.

(Good! Hurt him even more! Bleed him dry!)

Your murder of crows fly around him, forcing him into a defensive posture, and you gather them all so you can reform into your armored form right behind him. He realizes what’s happened, but he can only turn around to face you when you grab his wrist as hard as you can, and wave him around in the air and slam him into the rock below you over and over, taking pleasure in the sounds of rock breaking with every hit.

It’s then you slam him into the rock and summon a mold sword. When he looks up at you and realizes what’s about to happen, he raises his hand just in time for your sword to go through his hand and the tip of your sword pierce the hardened Bat symbol on his chest; you know the symbol is the strongest part of his suit so it can protect whatever he has beating in his chest, but you’re determined, so it begins to crack and crumble as you drive the sword deeper in.

He tries to say something, but the damage you’ve done to him takes its toll as he can only gurgle something as blood begins to seep from the corner of his mouth.

You dismiss your helm as you lean down towards him, a vicious, bloodthirsty grin etched across your face, and the sword goes down just a little more.

“Let’s get rid of this, shall we,” you mock, grabbing his cowl, ignoring the shock the suit gives you in response. “I want to see the life fade from your eyes!”

And with that declaration, you rip the cowl off him, exposing his face, marred with bloody cuts and bruises, before you.

When you look into his eyes, you can see past the look of struggle is fear and terror.

(He knows this is the end! Finish him! Put an end to the Bat!)

“Goodbye, Mister Wayne!”

Just then, you see something fly past you and it’s then you realize the arm holding your sword has been sliced through. Bruce takes advantage of the situation and kicks you a few feet away from him and he backflips so he can put even more distance between the two of you.

You quickly collect yourself to see the source of the disruption: Dick and Cass, donned in their vigilante gear.

“You ok, B,” Dick asks as Bruce joins them.

“I’m fine,” he grunts out. “What are you doing here?”

“Alfred told us you were coming here and we knew something like this was going to happen. We all wanted to come, but we knew we couldn’t all leave Gotham, so we drew straws.”

The way he sounds so joyful pisses you off even more. How dare he! You were so close to putting an end to him and Dick had to come and ruin it!

(You should rip his limbs off! Strip him of his wings and cast him into the dam!)

Cass looks at you and you instantly know she’s analyzing you, determining possible strengths and weaknesses. When she sees that you’re missing a limb, her eyes widen.

“Oh,” Dick exclaims when he follows her gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby bird! I didn’t mean to do that! I just wanted to get you off of Bruce!”

You look down to find the severed appendage lying near your foot and go to pick it pick it up. While Dick is spouting endless apologies and pleas for you to stay calm, you merely place the limb where it once was and it begins to stitch itself back together. Once your arm is reattached, you fix your gaze back to them to find that they’re starring at you in shock at what just happened.

“Oh,” Dick manages to spit out after a few seconds of silence.

“This is between me and him,” you say as you take a few steps towards them. “Fuck off.”

“You need to stop this, baby bird,” Dick retorts. “We’re family, you shouldn’t be doing this!”

“You’re kidding, right,” you say with a mocking chuckle. “You people are constantly fighting with one another! If you’re not giving each other black eyes, you’re either breaking bones or slitting throats! You’re all a bunch of emotionally constipated psychopaths who belong in padded cells with the rest of Arkham’s lunatics! And I want nothing to do with any of you! So, for the last time, leave me the fuck alone!”

The only answer you get is the three of them getting into combat postures, indicating they’re ready to go on the attack.

“I give you the chance to walk away, and this is the thanks I get,” you sigh.

From the bottom of your feet, you command two mold tendrils to burrow into the sand below and snake their way over to them and once in place, you order them to burst out from beneath them; such a tactic would spell the end for normal people, but the Waynes are anything but normal, so they somehow knew you were up to something and scatter just as the tendrils emerge.

Still, you put them on the defense by ordering the tendrils to lash out at them, separating them from one another and forcing them to put all their focus on the tendrils while Bruce and Dick are dodging the lashing tendrils, you make your way to the nearest vigilante: Cass.

Just as you near her, she turns around and counters the slash of your mold sword with a blade of her own. You quickly realize that the few dozen people that possess any type of sword fighting prowess pale in comparison to Cass’ and decide to swap to hand-to-hand combat by punching her in gut when your blades were clashed together, sending her flying several feet.

She quickly recovers by the time you close the gap and she not only evades most of your punches, but she manages to give you a few.

What the hell, she shouldn’t be winning.

(Her fighting style is more advanced than anything we possess in our archives,) the Megamycete responds, sounding shameful. (We are unable to find a successful counter to her assault.)

Of course, it makes sense now! While Gotham may have attracted a few dozen experts in fighting over the centuries, Bruce has been trained by masters in every form of combat, including Ra’s Al Ghul, whose lifespan makes the Megamycete seem infantile in comparison. And he’s no doubt taught all of them his fighting style.

Just then, you feel something hit your back and explode, sending you flying. When you recover, you see Bruce and Dick have cut your tendrils and are now heading towards Cass to reinforce her.

(Their armories also seem to be more than we can handle,) it says as it repairs the damage done to your armor. (We have hardened your armor as much as we can, but it seems their tools will be able to penetrate our defenses.)

Shit, so that leaves you vulnerable to their fighting styles and their gadgets.

“Alright,” you mutter to yourself as you ready yourself. “We’ll just have to rely on the one thing none of them have ever had: powers.”

You repeat what you had done before and disperse your body into a murder of crows and send them flying around the Bats, causing them to huddle together and raise their arms in an attempt to protect themselves. You have enough crows continue to fly around them to keep them distracted while the rest of them form together to form your body, but with the addition of four, oversized spider-like legs extruding from your back.

You allow yourself to fall to the ground, the legs pointed down to form four very sharp stabbing implements. They look up just in time to see what’s about to happen, so they force their way through the swarm just as you land where they once stood. The remaining crows reintegrate into your body as you make your way towards them, jabbing your spider limbs in an attempt to stab any of them.

Dick and Cass have narrow frames, so they’re harder to hit, but Bruce’s more bulkier body makes him a more feasible target, so you shift your focus to him. After a few failed slashes, you manage to land a decent hit that causes him to fail onto his back. He tries to reach for his utility belt, but you use two of your limbs to pierce his shoulders and he lets out a pained yell s he struggles in vain to free himself from beneath you.

He looks up at you, a painful expression etched on his face, while you summon two small tendrils from your back, ready to deal the final blow.

“If I can’t rip out your non-existent heart, I’ll just have to settle for your head!”

But, just as you’re about to make good on your declaration, you feel something attach itself onto your back, throwing you off balance.

“Y/N, don’t,” a voice says from behind and it’s then you realize it’s not something on your back, but someone.

Specifically, Dick.

“Get off me, circus freak,” you snarl as you begin to struggle with him.

Deeming Dick the bigger threat, you shift your focus from Bruce to shaking off the acrobat any way you can, flailing around and reaching out to grab him so you can finally finish him off; while you want to kill Bruce more than anything right now, you want him to suffer before you shed his blood.

Making him watch as you rip his golden child’s head off while he’s powerless to stop it? Yes, that’ll do the trick.

It’s then you feel something at your spider feet and when you manage to look down while holding Dick at bay to see Cass, batarang in hand, cutting the feet pinning Bruce to the desert floor in an attempt to free him.

(She attempts to free the bastard,) the Megamycete hisses. (Kill her! Kill her now!)

But in typical fashion, Dick butts in where he’s not wanted and hurls himself towards you, latching onto your upper body, forcing you to brace your back spider legs to prevent you from tumbling down.

You watch in pure frustration as Cass slices off the parts of your legs pinning Bruce down and before you can react, the two of them hurl themselves onto you, joining Dick in trying to wrestle you to the ground.

You grab Dick with one hand and Cass with the other and just as you ready to summon a tendril to deal with Bruce and stabs you with some type of syringe, making you howl in pain at the sensation; instead of injecting you with something, you feel your blood being drained from you.

“Enough,” you hiss, hurling the two smaller vigilantes as far as you can before grabbing Bruce by both his shoulders and pulling him up so that the two of you are eye-to-eye.

It’s at this point your rage reaches its apex; this was suppose to be a night of fun out on the Strip, but the man before you not only had to ruin it by showing up, but now he’s come full circle on his batshit craziness by blasting you out of the sky and try to apprehend you like you’re one of the crazies from Arkham.

And to make matters worse, he had to bring two of his children, Dick being one of them! While you will always hate Bruce with every fiber of your being and Damian being an extremely close second, you’ve always had a strong resentment towards the eldest Wayne son. While the bastard will always say he loves all his children equally (minus you, of course), you know Dick will always be number one in Bruce’s heart due to him being the first child and being a capable Gotham socialite and vigilante.

And to add insult to injury, everyone always says Dick is everything an eldest brother should be: reliable, responsible, and doting. For years, you could nothing but cry as you saw him going out of his way to help and hang out with the other Wayne children, no matter how loudly they tried to reject it. Watching such the love and affection you craved be handed out so willingly and carefree to anyone but you made you think you would never be loved by anyone other than your deceased Momma.

You let out an inhuman howl in Bruce’s face as you shove your head into his right shoulder and latch onto it with your teeth with enough force to rival a hydraulic press. He lets out a pained yell and attempts to pull you off by your hair, but you apply more force until you eventually pierce through the armor, followed by the skin, then the muscle, and finally bone.

You pull your head back, bits of bone and flesh dangling from your teeth. You look to see his right arm practically dangling from just the barest of flesh and blood oozing from it like a waterfall. You shift your gaze from your handiwork to Bruce’s face to see the most delicious expression of pain etched on it and his complexion is pale and clammy.

At this point, you’re a crazed animal, chomping at the bit to go in for the kill on the wounded prey before you and rip it apart until it’s unrecognizable.

(Yes,) the Megamycete roars, its voice a symphony of bloodthirsty cheers. (Do it! Exact your vengeance upon him!)

Before you do anything, you feel something hit your back and explode, but unlike the first one, this one sends some sort of freezing gases scattering across your body, sending feelings of burning as your armor and spider legs rapidly freeze.

You howl in pain as you drop Bruce so you can slap at the affected areas, trying to find some way to relieve yourself of the freezing feeling.

(Hurts,) the Megamycete hisses. (Hurts!)

You rid yourself of your armor and spider legs by ripping it off your body, the frozen mold constructs shattering upon impact with the ground.

It’s then you realize you’re exposed and quickly turn around, ready to defend yourself when you see the three of them flying away on the Batwing at top speed. You could go after them, but after the fight with the Bats and their freezing grenade, you can only fall to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

(We had no idea we possessed such a vulnerability to the cold,) the Megamycete says, its voice sounding weak. (The winters of Gotham drove us to a state of near hibernation, but this is the first time we have ever had a reaction like that.)

“And now you know,” you manage to gasp out. “And so do they.”

You can only watch as the vehicle flies away as fast as it can, carrying three of the Bats away where they will no doubt share what’s happened here with the others, which will no doubt lead to even more encounters like this in the future.

“Shit.”

In the Batwing, Bruce knows Dick is talking to hi, his words quick and high pitched as he tries to dress his wound, but right now, he can’t bring himself to take his focus off the syringe filled with your blood.

When he set out for Vegas, he was determined to find a way to provoke you into showing him your powers and obtain a blood sample so he could perform more tests, but he didn’t think he’d discover a major weakness in your defenses.

While he hated to see the cryo grenade caused you so much pain, he can’t help but rejoice at the knowledge that there’s a crack in your armor and if he approaches it at the right angle, he can have you home far sooner than he anticipated.

And when you’re back home, he can find a way to get that damn thing out of you and return you to normal. And when that’s done, he can begin to make things right with you.

He grips the syringe harder, seeing the key to making his daily whole once again within your blood.

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[sitepathos]

Is From Gold to Mold discontinued?

No, it’s still on-going. Just haven’t had the time to continue on the latest chapter.

Don’t worry, work has resumed and it’ll be out soon… hopefully.

[sitepathos]

Hey what’s up man? You good?

It’s been a hole since you posted anything and I just wanted to check on you.

I’m still alive, cancel the Amber Alerts!

That’s for checking in! Things have been a LITTLE hectic lately. I started back to school on the 6th and I can tell this semester is going to be CRAZY! If things go well, I’ll walk in May, but I’ll have to do my internship before I can earn my Bachelor’s in counseling psychology.

I’m working on the next chapter of From Gold to Mold right now since I have some free time, so hopefully I’ll be able to post it soon.

Thank you all for your continued patience!

[sitepathos]

https://www.tumblr.com/sitepathos/771441759147507712/imagine-the-angst-if-bruce-does-end-up-finding-a?source=share

In that post you said jason would have raised reader if he wasnt so blind now my question would he have done that actually or would he just be a good brother also what if reader ended up in the same situation as in the start of the series but jason saved reader

He’d basically assume Dick’s title as #1 Big Brother with you, always texting you, asking how your day was, and even making it a point to stop by your work, clad in his Red Hood gear (which actually led to an increase in business when rumors began circulating that Red Hood likes retro games).

He’s pissed beyond words when he realizes that you’ve been neglected ever since day one of moving into Gotham, offering to rip Bruce and the others several new ones on your behalf, but you convince him it’s not worth it and him and Alfred are more than enough for you. He’s happy to hear that you hold him in such high regard (something that means a lot to him since majority of Gotham worship at the Alter of the Bat), but he does go hard on them during sparing sessions to get back at them.

He loves spending time with you, the two of you staying in one of his various safe houses, teaching the other about your interests; you show him your game and go off on tangents on your favorite games and he nerds out about Jane Austin and shows you how to handle firearms, gifting you a custom-made pistol to reward you for completing his firearm safety test.

Jason will also help you with school and you were shocked to find out that despite him being built like a brick shithouse, he loved school after being adopted by Bruce and had As and Bs. He’ll help you study for your tests and when you pass them, he’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate.

And if this scenario took place when Damian first moved in, he would’ve defended you from his sword. The moment he saw the little brat reach for his sword, he instantly knew what was about to happen and dashed out in front of you, shielding you with his body and shoving Damian away. Bruce and Dick chastise him for shoving Damian, but he glares at them, his eyes Lazarus Green, and carries you out of the room, wanting to put as much distance between you and the demon spawn.

And the night you were kidnapped by the three thugs? You gave them Jason’s number when the leader demanded someone to call and arrange for a ransom. When he found out he was speaking to your kidnapper, that night with Joker flashes before his eyes and all the fear, pain, and despair he felt that night came flooding him all at once. He keeps them on the line as he traces the call and races to the cabin. Once he arrives, he uses his helmet to see through the cabin’s walls and due to the poor condition of the wood it’s made of, he manages to put a bullet in each of their heads through the walls. He rushes into the cabin and casts his helmet aside, wanting to see if you’re hurt with his own eyes and when your eyes met his, you notice they’re the greenest they’ve ever been.

He takes you to the safe house you’d come to know and love, telling you that you wouldn’t be going back to the manor since Bruce isn’t able to pull his head out of his ass and give you the care you need. Alfred is sad to see you leave, but is glad Jason will be the one to take care of you, so he helps pack all your stuff and often sends food in the mail. After you move in, Jason tears into Bruce, saying he’s a failure of a father and that he never should’ve been allowed to reproduce.

The night you graduate, you can hear him cheering you on as you receive your diploma, even with the rest of the audience giving you a round of curtesy applause. When you meet up with him and Alfred, he gives you a giant bear hug, swinging you around and saying he’s so proud of you.

When you tell him you want to move back to your old house in Goodsprings, he’s sad, of course, but he understands that desire to go back to more familiar surroundings. He goes with you to Nevada to make sure you get there safely and helps clean it up and make it livable, even going as far as to buy you all new furniture and appliances (using Bruce’s credit card, of course). You turn your old room into a guest room that’s always ready for him and he makes it a point to stay over once a month.

When your game finally releases, you give him the first copy and even dedicate it to him, bringing a tear to his eye. While he’s not the biggest gamer out there, he becomes your biggest fan and praises your work online.

And should you ever meet a man that you wish to date, he ensures that before your dates leaves with you, the last thing he sees is Jason cleaning his extensive collection of guns.