The Original Got Flagged With No Way To Appeal It When Every Contributor Is Deactivated But I Will Never

btw the thing she couldn’t ignore was someone calling her out for saying anti-depressants/hormone therapy are only perscribed by lazy doctors

Hebden Bridge, Calderdale, West Yorkshire (England)

MASTERLIST ..⋆. 𐙚 ̊

જ⁀➴ welcome to Red's masterlist ୧⍤⃝💐 !!

PULL ME IN

summary: due to Bruce distancing himself from reading and seeing other women - batfam has to watch their mom willow away.

CH 1

DIE YOUNG

summary : batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

CH 1

CH 2

Lone Warrior

summary : reader is put into emergency foster care after a tragedy , despite living with the Wayne family for a bit , reader takes it upon herself to move away and start anew since she clearly wasn't welcomed , after many years have passed Damian finally joins the family and after a particular spat w his father he finds himself in reader's room and an interest in them has sparked.

CH 1

CH 2

HELP YOURSELF

summary : in a family filled with intriguing members of their own right , duke has a particular interest in a certain vigilante in the family that everyone seems to overlook . this interest leads to the family to spiral into obsession .

CH 1 - 3

Neglected Reader x Yandere Platonic Batfam

CH 1

CH 2

CH 3

CH 4

Damian Wayne x Tokyo Ghoul Reader

summary :Damien Wayne is a complex character on his own , he has his own complex emotions and feelings that not many people can understand, que in a ghoul like sibling whom can comfort Damien in his hard times by reminiscing their own experience with them.

CH 1

CH 2

CH 3

DRABBLES

I 'hate' Cats - jason fic

New Beginings - jason fic

hc for reader being the favorite in batfam - hc 1 , hc 2

saiki reader x batfam shenigans

SALVATORE - tim drake blurb

I HATE SPIDER LILLES - a lonesome child dies while a neglectful father loses himself to guilt and grief. ( batfam x neglected reader )

Fallen Star - jason mourns his dead wife .

Am I Enough ? - Alfred unexplainably dislikes a certain Wayne member and is hellbent on making her life as miserable as it can get .

TO LOVE YOU IS KILLING ME - the only person bucky has ever felt seen , loved and cared by is slowing dying and he can only helplessly stand there and watch them go .

TIMLESS - spinoff on (neglected reader x batfam ) where us the reader loves neglected character while batfam seethes in jealousy

REQUESTS

strangers - reader comes from a post - apolyptic world where mankind was wiped out due to nuclear warfare and deadly disease . suddenly she is awaken in a world where humanity is thriving yet this weird family behaves so strangely toward her??

ty to everyone who supports my work , i really appreciate everyone and i can't thank you all enough !!

if a link is not working pls comment which one and i'll fix it and i apologize for the future trouble !!

Me(a practicing occultist/satanist of 7 years):*approaches my mom with three miniature baphomet statues in one hand and a box cutter in the other*

My Christian mother:😐…can I help you🤨

Me: can you cut me so I can but blood on these

My mom:…

Me:…

My Christian nurse mother: first of all I’m not cutting you with a rusty box cutter

Me:☹️

My mom: second of all there’s a way easier way of doing this that won’t probably lead to an infection *leaves and comes back with an insulin needle*

Me: wait

My mom: *grabs one of my fingers and squeezes it to cut off circulation* hold still

Me: *me freaking out because I think this I gonna hurt* waitwaitwaitwaitwait

Mom:*poke*

Me:

Mom:

Me: oh

Mom: yeah you dramatic weirdo

I had to enhance the audio since it’s even more difficult to hear in real life but one of our actual cats, Noir, has this really quiet and adorable meow that I could totally picture Madison having too in my Good Vlad AU. Like just listen to it!

[for the last time || в последний раз]

chapter warnings: n/a (damian just rambles a bit on how much he dislikes reader lol)

01. | 02. | » you are here | ... |

From the eyes of [ Robin ]

Roughly 20 hours before the events of 01.

The morning was dull and overcast, the pale light filtering through the manor’s tall windows with the insistence of a persistent fog. Damian descended the grand staircase with deliberate, measured steps, his sharp gaze sweeping over the pristine foyer before turning toward the dining room.

Breakfast was always a tedious affair, but tolerable with Alfred’s efficiency. And—most days—endurable by the girl’s silent presence. She would usually be seated already, picking at her plate with the nervousness of a bird, her eyes darting between her food and whatever book she’d brought to the table.

Today, the seat across from him was empty.

“Good Morning, Master Damian,” Alfred greeted, setting down a neatly folded napkin beside his plate. “Eggs, toast, and sliced fruit as usual. Would you prefer tea or coffee this morning?”

“Tea.” Damian slid into his seat, gaze flicking to the empty chair again. “Where’s the girl?”

“The Miss has not made an appearance yet.” Alfred’s brow furrowed as he poured the tea with steady precision. “Have you seen her this morning, sir?”

“No.”

Alfred’s fingers tightened slightly around the teapot before he resumed his usual elegance. “I shall send her a message, then. It’s unlike her to miss breakfast without a word.”

Damian scoffed, already cutting into his food. “Perhaps she finally decided to skip the unnecessary pretenses.”

Alfred’s look was a measured thing, the kind of quiet reproach Damian had grown adept at ignoring. “Very well, Master Damian.”

The room lapsed into silence, punctuated only by the soft clink of silverware against fine china. Alfred moved about with his usual efficiency, though there was a new stiffness to his movements, something Damian noted and promptly dismissed.

Minutes later, Grayson strolled in with all the gracelessness of a man who’d only just dragged himself from bed. His hair was tousled and he was already smiling, as if he expected the world to greet him with the same warmth he poured into it.

“Morning, Damian. Alfred.”

“Good morning, Master Richard,” Alfred replied, setting down another plate.

Damian didn’t bother with a greeting, his attention already straying from the room. He finished his meal quickly and rose from his seat, ignoring the curious glance Grayson shot his way.

“Going somewhere, Lil’ demon?” Dick asked around a mouthful of toast.

“My morning stroll,” Damian replied curtly, already turning toward the hallway. “Try not to do anything foolish while I’m gone.”

The hallways of Wayne Manor were vast and labyrinthine, but Damian knew them all by heart. It was a routine of sorts, to walk them every morning. Familiarity bred comfort, or perhaps it was more a matter of asserting his own existence within these elaborate, yet hollowed walls.

He passed the gallery, a corridor adorned with paintings and photographs from every era of the Wayne family. Damian rarely gave them much thought, but today his steps slowed, eyes narrowing as he studied the long line of frames.

One of the oldest photographs showed Grayson at twelve, smiling with infuriating exuberance beside his father, who looked decidedly uncomfortable with the forced cheer. Jane was there too, small and stiff at six years old, her posture awkward in a frilly dress that didn’t suit her.

Another photo showed the three of them, with Todd newly added to the lineup. Jane was probably nine, her eyes brighter with her lips curled up into something much genuine, more attuned to the cheerful energy Todd brought with him. Grayson had been fifteen then, already growing into his role as the dutiful eldest.

The progression continued down the line. Jason’s surly adolescence then absence, followed by the portraits with the appearance of Drake, Richard’ steady maturation, to then the doe-eye’s awkward transitions between childhood and whatever she was attempting to be now. And then Damian himself, glaring with unhidden suspicion in his first formal photograph, Bruce’s hand a heavy, yet not an unwelcome weight on his shoulder.

They were all there, framed and preserved like insects under glass.

But there was another photograph Damian hadn’t noticed before as it was placed far up the wall, it's dimensions small that it could easily be overlooked unless one had the stature of a person who'd gone through puberty. It was old, in black and white, the edges faded and worn with time, encased inside an intricate silver frame. It was a photograph of a woman standing alone, her hair elegantly styled, eyes alight with something Damian couldn’t quite define. Curiosity, perhaps. Or amusement.

The initials engraved in the plaque beneath the frame read.

M.W.

He frowned, tilting his head. The girl’s mother? That was unlikely. Her lineage was no secret within these walls, though it was a matter so rarely spoken of that it had taken Damian time to piece it all together. She was Bruce’s blood. His half-sister. Although he could never bring himself to call her that out loud.

Damian regarded the photograph again, his eyes narrowing as he studied the woman’s features with the meticulous scrutiny he applied to all things. The curve of her eyes felt familiar, their shape mirroring the girl’s in a way that left an uneasy knot in his chest.

But there was something wrong about them.

They were bright, yes, yet clouded—somehow. As if some unseen weight pressed upon them, shadowing the edges despite her composed smile. It was a gaze that seemed almost distracted, as though the woman were looking at something far beyond the camera’s lens.

For a moment, Damian felt something like recognition. A restlessness he couldn’t place, an unsettled thread that frayed at the seams of his thoughts. But he dismissed it as quickly as it came.

Whatever ghosts lingered in those eyes were of no consequence to him.

He scoffed, tension coiling in his shoulders. The resemblance, if it existed, was irrelevant. She was soft—fragile in a way that grated against everything he was taught to value. The others spoke of how she’d been indulged: by Grayson, occasionally by Todd before Drake took the mantle of Robin, and even by Pennyworth. Curiously, never by his father. He'd come to realize there was a void there—an absence of interest, as if the girl, his daughter, simply didn’t register.

He would not waste his thoughts on shadows.

She had never earned her place here. Not like he had.

With a huff, Damian turned away from the photograph, his brisk footsteps echoing through the empty hall. Whatever Alfred’s concerns were, they weren’t his. The girl would show herself when she decided to stop hiding away like a coward.

And if she didn’t, well—Damian couldn’t bring himself to care.

Taglist: @kneelforloki

kind of hate my stupid caustic pussy for dissolving my underwear over time but it's kind of cool, like, scientifically

sick post i just found online. sorry i couldnt find the source

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