Vlad: Make Sure To Charm The Youngest Wayne At Tonight's Gala. If You Want Your Parents' Business To

Master post 2

Master post 1

Story posts/prompts

The Plan

One or Two Hearts

A Comforting Nightmare

Missing

Seeing is Believing

When will you learn your actions have consequences

The orb

Anchor

Rewind to the end

all grown up

social media timkon clone kids

demon twins social media

In Plan Sight p2 p3 p4 p5

To long of a wait

never hidden

being crazy never stopped me from being right

Awaken the endless

unexpected hope p2

Surprise Reflection

Is it a Comfort or a Curse

Our surprise

is it a enemy or a child

false information

stopped rebirth

safe and sound

the grave secret

unsetting change

Grief filled promise

wish bubble

Interrupted Reunion

safe keeping

moving in

never wish on a star

incorrect Quotes

DC-Favorite

Dead tired #1

Dead tired #2

Demon twins

Surrounded

Stabbed

Skill issue

poisonous

breathe

fire

Danny phantom

Outsider pov Vlad and Danny

Fake human au

Family tree

Vlad is to raise Ellie and Dan

Mom dan

Dan and Danny co parenting

Pitch Pearl misunderstanding with Dani

Pjoxdp

Star wars x DP

(12/31/24) — dc masterlist

ft. platonic/romantic! yandere characters x gn! reader

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— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- this is a yandere-centric blog which focuses primarily on soft yanderes. i write nsfw, platonic yandere, angst tropes, and occasionally dark fics. these are all self-indulgent, so i'd rather no criticism nor hate as all my fanfics published are free to read. english is not my first language.

- for further inquiries, such as wanting to be tagged, or any questions regarding my series', please comment below.

✮ — SERIES' MASTERLIST ! ; #series:(series name)

01. — again &. again

(platonic! yandere batfam x gn! neglected reader x romantic! yandere conner kent)

02. — brutus

(again &. again villain au! inspired by arcane) (under construction)

03. — a loving family, an unpalatable desire

(romantic! yan bruce wayne w/ platonic yan! batfam x gn! spouse reader x romantic! yan clark kent w/ platonic yan! superfam)

04. — like him

(platonic! yan al-ghuls x gn! reader x platonic! yan batfam) (uc/discontinued; to be rewritten)

✮ — ONESHOTS, DRABBLES, &. ASKS !

01. — platonic! yan batfam x gn! chronically ill reader

02. — romantic! yan jason

03. — lovefool ; the cardigans ; (yandere! dc characters x gn! reader) ; #series: lovefool

01. — main fic.

02. — socialite! reader.

04. — to you, my greatest passion ; (platonic! yan batfam x gn! traumatized reader)

01. — main fic.

02. — family in every universe.

03. — willing victim trope.

05. — planned fanfics for the future

01. — main link.

02. — poll one.

03. — poll two.

06. — operation dominion ; (yandere! dc characters x gn! isekai'd reader)

01. — concept.

07. — no pain, no gain, right?

01. — main fic.

02. — more concept ideas.

Bird in a Cage

Platonic Yandere! Batfamily x Gn! Adult! Reader

summary: You move back into Gotham after years of living in your own.

warnings: not entirely proofread, batfamily acting generally suspicious, reader uses they/them pronouns, implications of obsessive/stalking behavior, implications of yandere activities, let me know if I need to add more

Part 1

You sighed, staring out of the window of the vacant bus you were riding in. You were returning home, back to Gotham City; after being gone for what felt like so long yet so short of time.

You didn't have any good reason to be moving back into Gotham. There weren't any good job opportunities for you and you were living pretty ok back at your old place, but for some reason, you just wanted to return to your home city. Maybe you were feeling nostalgic, maybe you wanted to feel close to your family, maybe you wanted a change of pace; regardless of the reason, you couldn't really just turn back now. And it's not like you really wanted to.

Speaking of your family, your mind started to wander to the last time you had seen them in person. It felt like it happened so long ago yet yesterday at the same time.

After loading the last of the boxes, you were checking over everything, making sure everything was accounted for when you felt a large calloused hand on your shoulder.

"I suppose you're ready now?" A familiar gravely voice questioned behind you. You turned around to meet the blue-eyed gaze of Bruce Wayne: your adoptive father. He was never really one to show emotion but after living with him for a few years you were more easily able to pick up on what he was feeling.

“Yup, just checking to make sure I have everything,” You said, turning around to fully face your father. You gave him a soft smile before leaning forward and hugging him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head into his chest.

“I’m gonna miss you, dad,” you whispered. You felt Bruce stiffen before awkwardly hugging you back.

“I’ll miss you too,” you heard Bruce murmur. Someone cleared their throat behind you, causing you to look up, only to meet your oldest brother’s, Dick Grayson’s, gaze. Behind him were your other siblings, Jason, Tim, Cass, Duke, and Damian.

“What? About to leave without even saying bye to your own siblings?” Dick teased. You huffed and rolled your eyes before turning around to hug him.

“Of course not,” You said. You turned your head to your other siblings, motioning for them to join in on the hug. Cass and Duke immediately joined in on the hug while Tim and Jason hesitantly followed. You looked at Damian who was awkwardly standing off to the side next to Bruce, his arms crossed.

“That means you too, Dami,” You teased. Damian stiffened before whispering a small ‘tt’ under his breath and joining in on the hug.

You were snapped out of thoughts when you felt the bus stop. This was your stop. With nothing more than a small grunt you wordlessly got out of your seat, quietly thanked the bus driver, exited the bus, and then started to make your way to what would be your new home in an apartment complex.

As you made your way to the apartment complex, the thought of getting in touch with your family and telling them that you had moved back into Gotham did not once cross your mind.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes as you sat up from your uncomfortable sleeping position on the couch one of your friends had offered to you as you were preparing to move. You looked around and noted you still had a lot of boxes you needed to empty. 

By the time you arrived at your apartment building, the only thing you could do was take all of your boxes from the moving truck and promptly go to sleep on the couch. 

As you sat on the couch, assessing where to start unpacking, your stomach rumbled. You could’ve ignored it, but you also knew it wouldn’t do you much good to unpack on an empty stomach. So with a sigh and a grunt, you got off the couch, stretched, grabbed your coat off the side of the couch, grabbed your keys, and then left your room, locking the door behind you.

You remembered spotting a small cafe on the bus ride to your apartment complex, so with no other options, you decided to go there. It didn’t seem too far, after all.

When you first entered the cafe, the smell of coffee and sweets hit you like a freight train. When it was your turn to order you didn’t order much, just a coffee and a bagel. As you sat down with your order and started to sip on your coffee, it hit you that back when you were growing up, you had never been in this section of Gotham. In fact, you never really even left the Manor. It’s not like you ever felt you needed to, you didn’t have many friends and most of what you needed was provided to you.

When you left the Manor and started living on your own, it was a struggle at first, but you actually started talking to people. Making friends and subsequently going out with those friends. It was hard times and you missed your family, but those years of living on your own outside of Gotham was something you’d never trade for anything.

“…(Y/n)? Is that you?” A very familiar voice snapped you out of your contemplation. You rose your head up to see the voice calling to you belonged to one of your very own brothers; Tim Drake. Despite the fact that it had been a few years since you were actually able to look at him in person, he didn’t actually look that different from the last time you saw him. His hair was a little longer, sure, but he was still your older brother. Still Tim Drake.

“Tim,” was all you were able to get out as you nearly bolted out of your seat. After an awkward second of silence you added, a bit more composed this time, “it’s been such a long time since I last saw you.”

Tim chuckled and gave you a quick hug before sitting down, with you following after him and sitting back down in your seat.

“Yeah, you bet,” He said. Suddenly his smile slightly faltered.

“I didn’t know you were coming back to Gotham. Did you tell any of the others about this?” Tim asked.

As you absentmindedly took a bite of your bagel you were about to say yes when it hit you that you had, in fact, not told any of your family that you’d be moving back into Gotham. Quickly swallowing your bite of the bagel, you groaned an “oh no” before pinching the bridge of your nose, your eyes shut tight. You heard Tim sigh.

“God, I’m so sorry, it completely slipped my mind to tell you guys,” You apologized before lifting up your head and placing your hand over Tim’s, “the minute I get back home I’ll text the group chat, I promise.”

Tim flashed you a weird look, but didn’t say anything, just nodded his head. You found that you were now lacking your appetite, so you wrapped what was left of your bagel in a few napkins and got up, with Tim watching but not saying a thing, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I gotta get back home, need to unpack my things and deal with some other stuff. But, we can hang out later, right?” You hopefully asked. Tim’s unreadable expression melted away and he gave you a lopsided smile.

“Got it, take care of yourself,” Tim said. You nodded your head and promptly left the cafe.

Your first few days of living in Gotham were…a bit rough. Simultaneously unpacking all your things and looking for job opportunities while living off of tap water and ramen noodle packets wasn’t exactly fun, but it wasn’t much worse than when you first moved out.

As things started to calm down and you were able to land yourself a job interview at a place nearby, you decided to head to the grocery store for things other than microwaved ramen noodles.

Pushing your cart through the aisles and aisles of foods and other items, you took a second to look down at the small shopping list you had quickly written out for yourself, making sure that you got everything, when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned around only to come face to face with your oldest brother, Dick Grayson. You fully turned around, noting that he also didn’t change that much from the last time you saw him.

“Oh, hey Dick, didn’t expect to see you around here. I thought you still lived in Blüdhaven,” you said. Dick simply chuckled before ruffling your hair, just like he used to do when you were still a kid.

“Nah, I do still live in Blüdhaven. I was just coming in to visit Bruce and the others. I actually didn’t expect to run into you, today,” Dick explained.

How would you run into me in this grocery store if you were just coming into Gotham to visit Bruce and the others…? was a question you wanted to ask, but you didn’t feel it was appropriate to ask, so you held your tongue.

“Oh, well. That’s nice,” You said, “sorry, Dick, but I really gotta hurry and pay for these. Maybe I can visit the Manor and we can—”

“How are you supposed to pay for those without your wallet?” Dick asked, innocently tilting his head. You furrowed your eyebrows at him before burying your hands into your coat pockets.

“What? No, I definitely have…” You trailed off as you realized your wallet was not in one of your pockets. You slumped your shoulders and groaned. Great. You went through all the effort to get the groceries and now you couldn’t even actually pay for them.

You heard Dick suppress a snicker before walking to stand next to you and put his hand on your shoulder.

“How about I pay for them?” Dick offered. You immediately straightened up and feverishly shook your head.

“Oh no, you don’t have to,” you tried to refuse. Dick’s smile fell and you could’ve sworn you felt his grip on your shoulder tightened a smidge.

“But I want to. You clearly can’t pay for them yourself on account of…y’know; no wallet,” Dick pressured. You pursed your lips and looked everywhere but Dick’s face before caving in and sighing.

“Ok, sure,” You mumbled. Dick’s cheery smile returned and he ruffled your hair once more before walking you to the cash register.

As you took your bagged groceries and went your separate ways, something dawned on you.

How did Dick even know you forgot your wallet if he just happened to run into you in the grocery store?

Yeah as you can see from the top of this, this is a multi chapter long fic lol. I did originally intent this to be a one-shot but with the way I was writing it it just felt kind of awkward for it to be one entire fic, so I’m splitting into chapters.

don’t expect like several more chapters after this lol, I’m probably only going to write one or two chapters after this, preferably only one

I may also upload this fic to ao3 but don’t immediately expect it to be on there

also yeah, sorry if there isn’t much actual yandere behavior, but I wanted this first chapter to be like, the build up, and I still did want to add faint little implications of the batfam’s yandere behavior but that might not have actually gone through in text so lol

Jason Todds family masterlist

Hello fellow Jason Todd lovers! You may find anything that has to do with Jason Todd and his big family I made up in my head on here (because I'm delulu, lol). I wanted everyone to feel like they're a part of my stories, which is also the reason that Y/N in these is not referred to as mom/mommy or dad/daddy by the kids, only as Y/N. Obviously you can refer to Y/N as either of those if you would like to, but I will not write it that way unless I come up with an OC (which I most likely won't unless I start a completely new story). If you have any ideas or want to know more information about Jason, Y/N, and their kids please send them in my asks! I'd love to answer them! 🫶🏼 I'd also love some options for the children, if you have any. I would also like to note that Y/N's body type is never mentioned, and plus size people are kept in mind because I, too, am plus size 🖤 p.s. most of these are incorrect quotes

How it started

A little laugh

A peek into their life

How it started + an add on

Before they were together

Their children <3

Clingy Dami series (Adult Reader)

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🍁๋࣭ ⭑🍂༘⋆˙✧˖°🐿️ ༘ ⋆｡˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖🍁๋࣭ ⭑🍂༘⋆˙✧˖°🐿️

✮ - Ask

𖥸 - Non Ask

⚘ - Mini fics

ᡣ𐭩 - Romantic

▫- Platonic

𖤓 - Fluff

☽ - Dark

⭑.ᐟ - Funny/meme

☂︎ - angst

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🍁๋࣭ ⭑🍂༘⋆˙✧˖°🐿️ ༘ ⋆｡˚.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑🍂༘⋆˙✧˖°🐿️ ༘ ⋆｡˚

Picking him up from school (start of the series)

Pavloving Damian 𖥸 ▫

Ex Juvenile Reader Lore 𖥸

How Damian discovered your birthday ✮+

Birthday party aftermath ✮+☂︎

Birthday party aftermath extended 𖥸+☂︎

Damian’s punishment for trying to stab Bruce ✮

Characterizing Bruce ✮

What happens if Reader gets hurt protecting Damian ✮

What if Damian got hurt instead: Part One, Part Two, ✮

Talia taking an interest in Reader ✮

Damian and ex Juvenile Reader’s relationship and why I think it’s so special (it’s long, like 1k plus) ✮

Reader lets Damian get away with almost anything ✮

Reader loves orange cats ✮

Orange the Orange Cat hates Bat and Birds ✮

Naming Orange the Orange Cat (indi)

You and Damian adopting a lot of animals Part One, Part Two, three ✮

Reader is a good fighter ✮

Damian finds Ex Juvenile Reader’s weapons ✮+

Dick having a crisis over not being Damian’s Favorite ✮+

Tim, Jason, Cas and Duke jealous over not being your favorite ✮

Damian gets jealous about other people being close to you 𖥸+▫

Reader being a bad influence (The start of Juvenile Reader) ✮+

Ex Juvenile Reader letting Damian and his friends go through their old stuff 𖥸 ▫

Ex Juvenile Reader and Conner (He still has out jacket) ✮

Reader being equally as clingy as Damian (expanding on later) ✮

Favoring Damian and giving his head some kisses ✮

Ex Juvenile Reader inherits their childhood home+memories of their mom ✮

Ex Juvenile Reader & Damian doing Christmas stuff together (+Talia drops by) ✮

Ex Juvenile Reader doesn’t celebrate holidays. Especially Christmas ✮

Ex Juvenile Reader takes away the sidekick trio and Damian from a fight ✮

Damian accidentally makes Bruce, Dick and Jason worry about Reader's and Pop's relationship (featuring the emergency brick) ✮

Part 2 of Damian accidentally makes Bruce, Dick and Jason worry about Reader’s and Pop’s relationship (Featuring mom friend Eddie) ✮

Part 3, it gets worse. ✮

Joker likes to fight Ex Juvenile Reader ✮

Part Two of Joker likes to fight Ex Juvenile Reader ✮

Part Three, Ft Scarecrow ✮

Jason having a aneurism over Joker and yours relationship (aka you beating Joker up) + Harley Quinn ✮

Reader wants to punch Bruce, but is cautious ✮

Reader disciplining Damian: Part One, Part Two, Part Three , Part Four, ✮

Reader is Infamous in Gotham’s Crime World: Part One, Part Two, Part Three ✮

Damian is turning Reader into his mom (gender neutral): Part One, Part Two, ✮

What if Damian found out about Reader’s past + Why Reader wouldn't take him with them ✮

Reader is protective of Damian around Alfred ✮

What if the Batfam discovers Reader fighting in the Pit ✮

Reader’s Death Glare ✮

What if Reader was on good terms with the League of Assassins (expand on later)✮

What if Reader Kills the Joker: Part One, Part Two, ✮

What if past batfam (Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim) met present Reader ✮

Would Damian dunk Ex Juvenile Reader in the Lazarus Pit? ✮

People in the batkid’s life crushing on Ex Juvenile Reader (friend crush+real crush+sibling crush (aka they really want to be your sibling)) ✮

Conner flirting with Ex Juvenile Reader (+Damian losing his mind): Part One,

Series Ocs

Pops, Reader’s dad/grandfather figure (his lore) 𖥸+ 𖤓

Ex Juvenile Reader is like Dabi ✮

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal AU.

Chapter 1:

----

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.

Dark pupils watched from the ceiling, their gaze affixed upon you. You sighed, deciding to ignore its presence.

An aggravated chitter interrupted you. Pausing, you watched as a little green bird jumped out of the bat’s shadow. It paced towards you, making a small leap to land on your outstretched finger. You smiled, extending your hand to pet the top of its head. The bird took a moment to consider the moment, head tilting with its beak outstretched as if it intended to bite you. It seemed to decide on sparing your finger, allowing you to give the bird some pets on the head.

However, it was time to resume your work. You turned back to your computer, a dismissal. The bird didn't like that. A quick flash, and the bird tittered about on your keyboard, messing up your setup.

“Robin!” You snap, reaching out as if to push the bird away.

You sighed. You disliked calling the bird Robin. It was the correct species, despite the bird being green, so it made sense to use the name. But.. you hated the connection it created between your soul bonded animals and the vigilantes of the city. Unfortunately, the bird didn't answer to any other name. You've tried.

The other robins were so much more agreeable than this newer one. Well, not that you could even call those three robin anymore. The newer robin was very possessive of the name, and you'd rather not have to search your room for more stray feathers that flew off in their next fight. Your soul animals were such a pain.

The flutter of wings distracts you from your musings. You look up, finding the very bat you had been so cautiously avoiding earlier descend onto your desk. The bat chirped a little, with the robin occasionally replying back with chirps of its own. They were having their own conversation.

You decided you were owed a break already, so you gave up on your dreams of getting work done in lieu of watching the ongoing conversation. It was rare for soul animals to talk. They didn't need to. Due to the nature of a soul bond, soul animals act on the innermost feelings of the soul they represent. The bond connects souls, so soul animals, which are a manifestation of the bond, are already intune with their soulmates.

The only instance in which soul animals did tend to talk, was if the soulmates themselves were talking.

Robin chittured with a snap, the bat in return giving a controlled chirr.

Oooh. You thought to yourself. This sounds like an argument. You wondered what it was about. Maybe Robin pecked one too many victims, or caused a mess again.

Ah. You were thinking of your bonded as just animals again. To be fair, it was fairly easy. The only things you knew of your soulmates were because of how the animals acted. Anything else, and you were in the dark. That's how you wanted to think, anyway.

Maybe while they were distracted… You scoot back a little in your chair, until you figure you’re out of their line of sight. You make for the door, tipping out of your seat as quietly as you can. You're almost out the door when a weight settles itself on your head.

You sigh.

“Robin. Get off me, please.”

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the presence doesn't budge. Obliging, you reach up to your head, feeling the bird’s little feet jump onto your hand. Bringing Robin to eye level, you stare at it, unimpressed.

A nearby bat of wings draws you out of your faceoff. Guess sneaking out on your own was too much to ask for, as always.

“Ughhh.” You whine. Your soulmates were going to push you into complete isolation at this rate.

“Fine. You two already know the drill.”

You point at the Bat. “You can never follow me, I mean it. A bat is way too ominous of a soul animal to be flying around. It's just asking for trouble.”

The Bat remains silent, watching. Always, watching. You really hated it sometimes.

In all honesty, a robin wasn't too great of a soul animal to have with you in Gotham either. But your robins came in odd colours, so people didn't always clock that the bird was actually a robin. Sometimes you said that your soul animal was a greenfinch or a swallow. It tended to work, as long as no one looked twice.

A bat was much harder to hide.

“So..”. You give up, gesturing to your bag. “Just get in already, I'll make the trip quick.” You always had to make any outings short with this particular robin. If you spent too long with someone it got snippy. Very, snippy.

The other three robins tended to be a bit more accommodating. Well, not by much.

Robin glides into your bag, a movement of precision and grace. Not for the first time, you wonder what your bonded was like in person.

Deciding to dismiss the thought, you unlatch your door, heading out.

Just another day, with your soulmates.

~ ~ ~ ~

Your parents told you about your birth. You were born to a bat watching your window. It wasn't such a red flag, at first. The maternity ward was flush with newborn babes, so your parents figured that the bat was bound to another child. It was what they had hoped for, anyway.

Plenty of children weren't born with soulbonds. It wasn't a concern. They could be the elder of a bond. Or, they could have a delayed bond. They weren't concerned.

But… then it followed you home. Your parents settled you down, snug in your crib. When they next came to check up upon you, it was there. Perched upon the crib, watching you. When they next blinked, it was gone.

The very next day, your parents awoke to the Bat watching you again. But this time, a smaller bird was snuggled to your sleeping face. It clung to you all day, refusing to disappear when they appeared like the Bat did. It was… very mouthy.

They had assumed this to be a good development, everyone knew The Night worked alone. They were happy.

They were happy, even when another robin appeared the subsequent day. A scruffy one, snappy. Its feathers were still growing out. Young.

Perhaps they should have expected then, that the dawn the next new day would bring another little bird to your crib. The youngest one, a nestling still developing pin feathers. Despite its age, it held a keen gaze at them.

There weren't any more animals that appeared after that. So they hid any evidence of the Bat, and instead allowed you to grow up freely with your three birds.

The Bat was evidently the oldest in your soulbond. It was protective, almost parental, in its movements. It had a sixth sense for when you were in any danger, always emerging from the shadows with perfect timing. If a bat wasn't such a symbolic image in Gotham, you'd probably be more appreciative of its efforts.

The eldest bird was silly, performing aerial tricks and jumps that always brightened your day. It was keen, focusing on you whenever you felt down. It had the uncanny ability to appear whenever you were under the weather. When you said the word robin, it snapped to attention.

You decided to call it Robin.

The second bird was protective. It wasn't as loud as the eldest, but there was a spark of kindness in its gaze. Originally the bird was a lot rougher, but it started to calm down a few years in. Became stable. It always seemed to find you when you got stuck on homework, or landed on your shoulder whenever you flipped through a book.

The third bird was small. You assumed it was only a year or two older than you, due to how the bird’s feathers grew in. It wasn't as affectionate as the other two. Solitary, it often lingered in the shade. It watched you. It watched your other soul animals too, when they appeared. It seemed a little tired. It took you a bit, but eventually you realised it was lonely. After that, you always had a comforting word.

That is… until the Batman gained a partner. A boy decked out in green and yellow, the same feathers on your eldest bird. The vigilante called itself Robin.

As the duo gained notoriety, you were hidden more and more. There was danger in soulbonds, and nothing was more dangerous than vigilantes.

Robin became Nightwing. Your eldest bird grew in blue feathers. The bird stopped responding to its name. A new boy became Robin. You spotted green and yellow feathers growing in on your second bird. It started answering to Robin.

You knew who your soulmates were. After that, it was no secret. Not to you, not to your parents.

Your parents weren't happy anymore. But you were safe. They could be content with that. They considered reaching out. The evidence was obvious, they knew it, and you knew it. Maybe you could be even safer, if the Batman knew where you were.

And then you watched your Robin die.

The little bird had been stuck to you recently, seeming to be in an argument with the Bat. When in conflict, soul animals gravitated to those they weren't in disparity with, and this was nothing unfamiliar to you.

You had been stroking the little bird, as it rested on your lap. But then it jumped. It started shaking. It started crying. Bleeding.

You panicked. You tried to comfort it, to whisper caring words, to give a reassuring touch. You were young, you didn't know what to do. There was nothing you could do.

When a soulmate dies, the soul animal dies too.

The little Robin died, crying in your lap.

You had never looked at vigilantes the same way again.

There was no point in denial, not after that. Your bat became the Bat, the eldest robin named Wing. A few days later, your youngest soul animal developed new feathers. Green… and red. You didn't have a name for the bird, but you suspected you would soon.

You took a week off school.

~ ~ ~ ~

“Please be quiet, this time.” You muttered down to the green bird resting in your bag. It started at you with a condescending gaze. Ugh. Younger soulmates.

You'd sigh, but you've been doing that far too much lately as is.

Time to get this over with.

You enter the supermarket, one of your very few weekly outings. You start perusing the shelves, picking out what was in your list. As you're walking though, you hear a frustrated bark. You peak out from the shelves, spotting a lone woman tugging a leashed dog along.

Ah. You knew what this was. Everyone did. The other shoppers in the store paused too, staring at what was going on.

It was a rejected bond. When feelings between single soulbonded individuals become too bitter, the soul animal dissipates. Well, it was supposed to, and then reappear when feelings improve. But if the animal was constrained in some manner, then the animal can't disappear and is forced to remain in a physical form.

Judging from the leash on the dog’s neck, this was that same scenario. It was rather bold of the woman to bring the soul animal out in public if it was rejecting her like this. Almost brave.

Gothamites rarely helped each other, but things became a little sensitive with soul animals. You wouldn't be too surprised if there wasn't at least one attempt to free the dog today. It certainly caught attention. It could even catch.. vigilante attention.

You frowned. It was a shame to cut one of your few outings short. Sometimes there was no alternative though. You certainly wouldn't be sticking around.

You jumped at the sound of a shriek, eyes darting down to your bag where Robin rested. Robin glared venomously at your shoulder, and you glanced at it.

Your shoulder where… Ah. That would do it. Your shoulder where Red rested. Your third robin. You felt like crying. Why, why this pair?

You didn't even feel the bird as it appeared. Was that a testament to Red's stealth or your lacking observational skills?

Robin glared daggers at Red, practically hissing. You didn't even know birds could hiss. Red paid him no mind, instead looking very settled on your shoulder. The bird even snuggled your face a little. What a smug guy.

Another bark caught your attention. You glanced forward, remembering the scene. Your soul animal’s squabbling would draw too much attention. If any of the vigilantes were watching, you'd be in trouble. One robin soul animal was potentially excusable. But two? That would get you caught.

You tried to shush the two, a small signal for them to knock it off. Naturally, because it was these two, they ignored you. You groaned. This was far too public.

You grabbed Red, snatching him off your shoulder as gently as you could. Placing him gently into your shoulder bag, you tried your best to pretend the resulting screech from Robin wasn’t noticeable. The flap of your bag was closed, so no one could spot them… They could certainly hear if they came close enough though.

Time to leave. You paid for what you picked up and dashed out. The sight of rejected soulmates was generally considered disturbing, so anyone watching could just attribute your rush to that.

Were you paranoid?

Mayhaps a little.

You've justified it by the fact that you're probably soulmates with Batman and 4 robins, so paranoia is practically a requirement for your soul.

____

Hello ^ ^ welcome to my soulmate au! I do hope you enjoyed.

If you have any questions about the au, please feel free to reach out :D

I don't why Danny Phantom is trending but here have one of my favourite scenes in the series

With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?” 

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on. 

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless. 

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile. 

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

Jason and Tim are late for patrol

Damian, scowling: What were you two doing?

Tim: Your grandfather

Jason, at the same time: Your mom

Tim and Jason: *turn to stare at each other*

Everyone else: w-What

i have been constantly in tears over this newly hatched duck i found on instagram last night