#platonic yandere ghost

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Platonic Dad Ghost Headcanons

Warnings: yandere behavior. Talks about alcohol and pot. Another reminder: This is pointed at the platonic audience. Nothing romantic.

A/N: The ghost icon belongs to @/yumethefrostypanda; does not belong to me.

I got this idea from my dream. Idk why, but dad ghost makes me feral. Do y'all have daddy issues too?

As a father, his yandere traits are a bit higher; he’s stricter, always stalking you, and terribly protective. He’s in your shoes most of the time, watching what you’re doing and who and where you’re at; not to the point he’s breathing down your neck, but needing to see if you’re in a safe area with/or without him.

High chance with Simon, since he stalks a lot, he will put multiple trackers and microphones on you: your phone, the backpack you carry, your wallet, and your shoes. He's pretty secretive about it; not only does he put these on. But also there are a bunch of cameras in the home in case of any danger.

Because of how much he worries, high chance Simon will never get back into a romantic relationship. His main focus is on you. He prefers that way as he can watch you more closely than worry about another person. Plus, the relationship between you two is more special than the others.

With him being your dad, he’s always prepared for everything, including teaching you how to protect yourself. By your teenage years, you know how to use self-defense, how to handle guns, and take down men (and women!) twice your size, communicate with Morse code/radios, and know your way around a map. At best, how to drive a car and start it in the movies with the wires.

His work style makes it incredibly hard to pinpoint where and when he will be home, which at times, can be upsetting. Though, as one of your best supports, Simon will always come to your important events, even if you didn’t tell him or remind him (ex. Graduation, going to college, homecoming/prom, etc). But when he does arrive, he’s there in the crowd, possibly on the furthest bottom-left, clapping quietly while Soap is possibly yelling for you beside him (poor Ghost).

Speaking of Uncle Soap or any other member of TF-141, they often visit, if not stay for a few days after a long mission. You probably know all of them and Laswell pretty well; all of them are as protective as Ghost. They also try to attend important events, but because of Ghost’s privacy and his thing about keeping to himself, it’s rare.

Ghost is surprisingly open about everything, except for his past and possibly your mother (depending on the outcome). Other than that, he’s truthful about questions about how it’s asked and if you decide to ask about his work — likely he’ll ask you not to speak about that.

Being a single parent is hard. Ghost takes the space of a mother’s place, teaching and supporting you with certain issues you have in your teenage life or possibly pubescent years. If you ever have your period or insecurities, he's right beside you comforting you and reassuring you when you need it.

Trust issues are a big thing with Ghost. The only people who know about your existence are the team and Laswell. Anybody else he comes into contact with is immediately deemed as a threat to him. This includes him practically web searching and going deep diving into seeing if your friends are your ‘friends’. Don’t be surprised if one day, they decide to not talk to you anymore or ‘suddenly’ disappear one night.

With the talk of friends, It’s a high chance that you’re homeschooled or at least online schooling; which leads to the internet. While he tries his best to make your life as sociable as he can, his paranoia and anxiety gets the best of him. He still does try to let you be a teenager: experiencing friendship outside the house (with his permission), doing dumb shit that may or may not lead you to jail, and getting grounded for a month or two. Hell, he allows you to try pot or alcohol under his supervision. Ghost just has a hard time trusting people and he needs you to understand that.

With the topic of being a teenager, Simon lets you hang out of the house if you want, but you have a strict curfew he expects you to follow. As well as update him every hour, and if you change locations, you need to tell him. And yes, he may do the embarrassing thing where he picks you up late at night in front of your friends or ruffles your hair while kissing the side of your head.

His way of spending time with you is being in your space, or in other words: quality time. He likes having you by himself, and will say no if you ask him to leave the house; an “Because I said so,” Type of parental act.

His way of affection towards you is a bit uncomfortable but fatherly. He’ll occasionally pat your back, ruffle your hair, or kiss you on the side of the head; sometimes letting you hug him. However, he likes his personal space. But! If you need a hug or in the need of comfort, he’d shuffle around and let you cuddle him for as long as you need/of want.

When he does get the chance to catch up with things, he will ask hows school going, how are you feeling that day, and if you two could watch TV together; possibly ordering your favorite food and allowing you to pick the channel, even if it is MLP or TAWOG. Rarely does he judge or care, as long as he gets to spend time with you.

He also loves going outside with you. While he's a homebody, your home is likely in a huge cabin; which means you two can hike, go for walks to rivers or simply go see a waterfall.

While he's extremely protective of you - Ghost won't fully baby you. He’s not the type of platonic yandere who locks you up the minute you scrape your knee or because someone tried to flirt with you. He expects you, or more so, allows you to do things your way, and figure out and express yourself.

However, if he does see/or sense you are ever uncomfortable, extremely hurt (crying type of hurt), or scared, he will step in and take care of it; his dad-mode taking over immediately, which is not a pretty sight.

No romantic partners in the house. He doesn't care if you fight him with it, Simon will not allow you to date.

Though, one of the things he will let you have is having your own privacy. He’s not the type to breathe down your neck and ask if you need anything every 5 minutes. He knows you will come to him if you need it.

He allows you to play with your phone, not asking who you’re laughing at because again, he knows you will come to him if something is/or was bothering you. And if he does see something wrong, he’s gonna get worried and get to the bottom of it. Always reminding you that you can come to him, no matter the issue.

Everything about your life is taken very seriously by him. If you are crying over something ‘small’, he won’t see it as small, because to him and you, it’s rather a big issue because you’re crying over it and it’s making you upset. With this said, Simon is pretty good at helping you with solutions or coming up with plans to help you calm down.

Ghost spoils you rotten; not to the point where you believe you get everything but to an appreciation type of spoiling. On the days he returns from his missions, he comes home with a few gifts he saw that he thought you’d like. Some books and video games that had caught his eye (if you’re into that), and maybe grabbed an animal plushie as big as his forearm to sleep with.

Whatever you want, you immediately get. All he asks in return is for you to follow his rules and spend time with him when he gets off work. He loves being around you, even if on days he doesn't show it.

However, if you do decide to break his rules, you will get treated like a full child; everything all electronic is taken away (besides your phone to communicate with him but he will download Life 360), you have a bedtime, and expects you to talk to him when he asks you a question. Worst case scenario, he will cut off all your friends and tell you that you can't hang out with them till you behave.

He's always worrying. Even if the two of you are at a restaurant, going shopping, or decided to head to the ice cream truck. He's always looking around his shoulder, expecting the worst. The minute it does? Expect him to go ballistic, making sure the danger is obliterated and gone. Simon is immediately grabbing you, calls in Price, and shooting at anyone (or anything) to get you to safety.

Surprise surprise, you will see Simon’s face frequently, if not every minute of the days he’s home. Rarely will he put a mask on, unless he has a nightmare or when he expects company from the other team members. And yes, you are allowed to boop his nose or smoosh it jokingly.

Definitely the type of dad who he allows you to paint his nails, dress his hair in goodies, or put makeup on him; the only request is that you don't do lipstick (but we all know that's a lie :P)

—

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© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#the icons are not mine #they belong to their rightful owners #kokeshi!! #yandere blog #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yandere headcanons #yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere mw2 #platonic yandere x reader #platonic headcanons #platonic yandere ghost #yandere ghost x reader #yandere ghost #yandere simon 'ghost' riley #yandere simon riley #yandere mw2 #yandere modern warfare #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #x teen!reader #yandere x you #yandere platonic #yandere x y/n

[sleepy-platonic-yan]

(Platonic) Yandere Spirits + Teenage Reader.

Hello This Is My First Post. I Hope You Can Enjoy This And The Rest My Blog Will Have To Offer. Please Forgive Any Grammatical Errors.

Reader is gn, but the ghosts refer to them as their son—————

You and your mother had moved into a new house. After the tragic death of your brother and father, the house held way too many memories that made it so even walking down the hall could leave you sobbing.

Your mother wanted to really get away from it all, to go out in the country side and ‘blend with nature’, but that was not unexpected of her, she’s always been distant and ready to abandon things at a moments notice for work or her own personal desires. She would have put you and your brother up for adoption if it weren’t for your dad.

but at the end of the day all this really meant for you was that you have to do school online now cause mom bought a farm house in the middle of nowhere.

she made sure you were fine with it which was a bit unexpected, and at the time you really were! It’s just, the house was built in the Victorian era and had seen years of use, hundreds of families and many deaths. And although the house has had new things added like heating and hot water, the house freaked you out still is all.

As you pulled up to the house, its tall figure landing ominously against the moon in the sky, the house looks like it belongs in a horror movie. The large willow tree beside the house with a rope swing that sways in the wind making a ‘creeeek’ every once in a while doesn’t help either. You suck in a breath and don’t open your door, but your mother either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about your fear as she opens her door.

she goes to the back of the car and opens the trunk before shouting “(Readers name) get out of the car and carry your luggage! I ain’t carrying all of this” you mumble an affirmative and open your door. You keep an eyes on the swing, making a note of how it seems to have stopped for an odd amount of time before getting back into swinging ‘wind must be different over there?..’ you think.

you grab your one duffel bag and a few of moms bags before heading to the front door with her. The gravel path to the front door makes crunching noises with each step, making you hyper aware of how loud you’ve been since the second you got here. You shake your head, it’s fine. This is your house. ‘Is it tho?..’

As your mother grabs her key from her purse, you her a weird ‘crunch’ behind you, like the sound of something starting to walk up the path. You whip around but no one’s there. Damn, barely five minutes here and your already paranoid. Your mother opens the door and you walk in.

as you step in, you step into what seems to be the family room, wood floors throughout the house or as far as you can see. The room has a white couch with soft pink flowers as the pattern and white wood legs. That pattern stays with all the furniture in the family room. There is also a old-ish tv.

“hey mom, do you know why the previous owners left their stuff” you ask a bit suspicious, a huge house with good looking furniture selling for a absurdly low price yet it was on the market for months. There’s gotta be something off.

your mom shrugs and tells you it must just be because they don’t need them. You decide to just go with that. Yeah, they just didn’t need them. You and your mother walk around the first floor of the house a bit before ascending the stairs. The stairs are creaky and give a bit to much for your liking with each step. Again your mother doesn’t mind.

as you get to the next floor, it seems most of the rooms are old bedrooms. Your mother immediately goes to the master bedroom with a small yell of “just take any room, I don’t care”

as you look at the hall full of rooms, non seem particularly interesting or safe. You know you have to pick one tho so you peak in each.

Each room contains different items, but each have a painting of a different person. The only one the not have a creepy painting is one of the smallest, with no windows and the bare minimum items.

you end up picking the one that doesn’t have much furniture other then a bed and a desk. The desk is creaky and wobbles at the slightest push. As you toss your duffel bag on the bed the bed creaks loudly as well. You don’t mind, it’s better than being watched by a bunch of most likely dead guys.

You also don’t have much that you brought, so you don’t need much room. You lay down on the bed. This is fine, your just being paranoid.

as you sit down on the bed, or it’s yours now you suppose, you grab your phone from your jacket pocket. As you turn it on you are blinded for a minute by how bright it is, turning down the brightness, you quickly put in your passcode and flip to discord.

as you open up a group chat between you and a bunch of your friends, you begin to talk to them. You talk for a few hours, even hoping on call and showing them your room (they agree it has a creepy vibe to it), you finally say you have to go to sleep at around 3 am.

you remove the blanket that came from the house as you fear it could be moldy, so you’d prefer to just wash it. You take the duffel bag off the bed and open it, grabbing a blanket. The blanket that came with the house is admittedly much better, your blanket is thin and warm with a few holes. But never the less you turn off the lights and hurry back over the bed.

you realize a bit to late you didn’t change clothes, but in all honesty you don’t want to change in this house.

as you lay back on the bed with a creak, you can’t help but think you see things moving around in the darkness.

————

you wake up pretty late in the day. It’s summer break so you don’t have school, or else you would have never stayed up that late. As you sit up you notice oddly enough you’re covered in both blankets, not just yours. You could have sworn you just wore yours but but, uh you must have put it on in the middle of the night!

yeah, that’s what you did. You probably got cold, and put the thicker blanket on for warmth, and if you don’t remember it that’s fine.

As you sit up you notice something on your desk, a piece of paper with a cup of water. As you stand you walk over to the note, it’s from your mom

hey (reader’s nickname), I got a urgent call from work and i need to get back to the office by next week, and I have to leave now to make it. I know I said I work on line these days but they really need me. I know you’ll understand, your nearly a adult you can handle yourself for a few weeks, when I get home I’ll spend lots of time with you.

There’s money attached to the back of the note, and I put all our food from the car in the kitchen.

love - mom

You sigh. it’s always been like this. Seems no matter where you guys live, mom will never be home. You know she works hard but it feels she doesn’t see you as a priority.

although in the back of your mind you recognize the writing looks different then her writing, and she always signs off with her real name and not ‘mom’

As turn the paper around you see that yes, there is money, and it is way too much. 500 bucks. You blink. What. You shake your head, you are not using all of that. You remove the money from the paper and throw the letter in the trash.

For some reason you have a gut feeling not to leave your room. Something feels wrong with this house and it’s even worse with no one else here. You grab your phone again and hop on discord, as you talk to your friends you let them know where you live.

Turns out some friends you met online live real close to you, and they’re cool to come over tomorrow to hang out and keep you company till your mom gets home. You just have to survive today and tonight.

After your friends have to go you’re left sitting on your bed with nothing to do, so you remove the bigger blanket again and decide ‘hey, best way to lose time is to sleep!’ After a bit you slip into unconsciousness.

//change of POV//

as the many pairs of eyes watched their sons eyes close, they can’t help but coo

their sons ‘Mom’ is not fit clearly, so they had to step up. And so far they’ve been doing great, their lovely son is even gonna bring friends over to meet them!

their son is adorable. And all theirs

#platonic yandere #familial yandere #yandere ghost #spirits #new writter

[demonskiss]

how would they react to a very sleepy darling? like if you just constantly fell asleep everywhere

- 🪽

too much sleep

cw: noncon, somno, creampie, cnc, oral (reader receiving), fingering

WARNING: VIOLETTA’S SECTION IS COMPLETELY PLATONIC

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

falling asleep in front of emory is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. they think you’re absolutely foolish for it, even if you can’t control it. and they’d be right, when they snake their hand further up your thigh, a emitting a quiet, but malicious laugh. you’ll be stripped naked by their deft hands, fucked silly on their cock, and they don’t even care if you wake up, in fact, they want you to wake up. they’ll make sure to time your awakenings to when they cum inside you, grinning when they see your horrified expression, and if you don’t wake up? oh well, they’ll make sure to leave a rude awakening for you, covered with dried cum on your violated body. you should really find better locations to sleep yknow?

blythe is taken aback at your sleeping form. yes, the urges tell him to ravage your body, to wake you up in the throughs of passion. but they couldn’t do that to you, not when you are so vulnerable. he brings this up to you the next time you’re awake, and when you tell him that it’s okay, he can touch your body, they can take you in your sleep and you don’t mind if you get waken up, this changes him completely, and every night, you’re awakened to him groping your body with passion in his grey blue eyes. he mumbles a half hearted apology, squeezing the meat of your thighs before diving back down between your legs once more. you’re afraid you won’t have much time to sleep anymore, they’re completely insatiable.

violetta drops her pencil on the ground when she feels your head drop to her shoulder. she can’t help but blush, her muse, her closest friend is so close to her! she can see every small detail on your lovely face, and she’s amazed every single time. she can’t wake you, there’s no way she can when you’re sleeping so soundly right next to her. a prepared artist always has more than one pencil, and she sketches your lovely features, snarling at anyone who dares try to disturb your slumber. she simply laughs it off when you’re embarrassed about falling asleep on her, it just means you trust her after all! and that’s super important between friends!

ambrose sees this daily, when he was hidden when you first moved in, to now, when you’re fully aware of him and his peculiar mannerisms. but he still cannot get over how stunning you look, the way your chest rises and falls like a steady beat, the way your face looks so calm and still, reminding the man of his body back when he died. he can’t control himself, grazing your body with the pads of his freezing fingers, slipping his hands past your clothes, watching you moan softly in your sleep. it gets him so aroused hearing your sweet voice, egging him to slip his fingers down to between your legs, coaxing his fingers further into your hole. he then takes out his fingers, and quickly removes his spectral clothing, pushing himself where he truly belongs. and he wraps his arms around your warmer body, thrusting slowly and shallowly, taking his time. he’s truly sweet, and he’ll make sure he won’t wake you up, even though you’re half freezing to death because of him.

you cannot expect to send me this and me to not write somno? enjoy the food my pretties >:3

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ starry scribe ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ moonlight mirage ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ whispers of the night ✧: 🪽 #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the false surgeon ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the pen pal ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the devoted artist ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the forgotten ghost ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ fading fantasy ✧ #male yandere #yandere bf #yandere oc #yandere writing #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #male yandere x reader #female yandere x reader #male yandere x you #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #nonbinary yandere #female yandere #yandere ghost #ghost yandere #oc x reader #oc x y/n #oc x you #tw: noncon

[ghost-pipes]

#ghosts edit #bitching #vent #jirai kei #vent blog #menhera #purple #yanblr #yancore #rebzyyx #hoshie star #all i want is you #obsessive love #obsession #landmine kei #landmine type #landmine girl #landmineblr #pien kei #pienblr #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere friend #lyrics #lifestyle landmine

[youngstarfishphilosopher]

Hello, love your Haunted Mansion writings. But what would happen if the child did escape the mansion? Will a ghost follow them or will the Hatbox Ghost himself will? What will be the consequences?

I'm assuming you're talking about like, escaping escaping and not just leaving for a while and coming back. So, with that being said, I don't know how you managed to do it, but somehow, you did.

I think he would send a ghost or two to follow you at first: a tactic that usually worked in most cases when dealing with escaped mortals.

But . . . by the third attempt you haven't come back, then he'll have to hitchhike with you himself.

And trust me, neither you nor the ghosts of the manor want that to happen. Cause Alistair's gonna get real violent, real fast.

Since he's a much more powerful spirit, when he finds you, he will more than likely just grab you and take you back home: paying no mind to your kicking, yelling, begging to be let go, or crying.

As for consequences, he would probably lock you up somewhere dark and dingy for a few hours while he tried to calm himself down.

Once he finally does, he'll eventually let you out. You are still a dumb child. After all, who's prone to make rather unwise decisions.

So get ready for a rather long lecture. And you better behave because depending on how you react after that determines just how much of a living nightmare your stay at the manor will be from now on.

He'll give you a chance to do better, so don't take it for granted.

The ghosts of the manor would have it much worse:

The one's who fail to bring you back were punished severely, and from the way all of the ghosts acted , you would be able to tell they were even more frightened of Alistair than before.

I would hope you enjoyed the small time of freedom you had outside the mansion because Alistair would make sure you never stepped a foot outside it agian. . .

#haunted mansion 2023 #alistair crump #disneys haunted mansion #hatbox ghost #alistair crump x reader #child reader #hatbox ghost x reader #platonic x reader #kinda yandere

[snakegorl212006]

The “little things” they do (Ignihyde)

-------------Idia------------------------------------

Being watched is something I grew accustomed to. Living with ghost watching your every move. Idia is no different although he tends to avoid me then most. Prefers to be on his own and barely bothers me unlike his younger brother. idia is a man of secrets and every time i clean or spend a night over here there’s always some specific room he doesn't want me to visit or stumble upon. He’s simply a normal shy stereotypical ghost. But lately he’s gone creeper. Sometimes i can see a flicker of light in my room every now and then or he just looks at me behind some corner. I should be used to being watched but….idia’s glances are the most chilling.

“Idia” i spoke which made him jump from his seat. He turns around to me all timidly “y yes” he asked “you know you can just come talk to me” i stated and he nods “then why do you just stare at me all day” i asked “doesn't the others do the same thing” Idia replied “yes but even rook says hello to me. You don’t have to be so shy. Feel free to be open” I stated before walking off. I suppose I let my guard down around him but he’s too timid to even interact with me. So I thought… 

Idia asked me to clean his lab so I obliged and aided in his organization. While cleaning i came across a picture. It was a well done sketch of a person in some school uniform. The date seems to be somewhere in the victorian era like 1800’s. They somehow have my face. There were more papers of this person below and notes scattered around. I never read the notes, only saw pictures. Similarly to the build of ortho, this person was a build for some doll. This doll model had my name as the name for the doll. Maybe it’s something like Cater. I brushed it off and placed back the loose papers in the folder. Once I was done cleaning I began to head out of the lab. Once out i saw a door open. I assumed idia was there so I went to the door and entered the room. The room was pitch black so I had to feel around for a light switch. There wasen’t a switch but there was a string which I pulled on to illuminate the room. Paper scattered around designs,outfits, part blueprints. Everywhere and scattered around. All had something in common each had my name on them. In the center of the room was a life size doll. This doll had the same uniform as the picture found in the lab and it had my face “you weren’t suppose to see this yet…” a voice spoke from behind. Idia stood tall in the darken corner. He walks up the the doll and fixed the clothing “do you....like it” he asked “this is supposed to be your present when you die” Idia explained “I’m not dying yet” I replied “Oh I know. I prefer you to stay alive just a little longer” Idia stated as he looks at me “I want to reminisce how you look just like them” He smiled “same face. Same scars…almost like a digital copy” Idia list “once i can make my attachment to your soul. You’ll be able to use this doll. Like you’re alive. Like ortho. Wouldn't that be cool” Idia said “what if i don’t want a attachment” I asked “like you have a choice” he frowns as the tips of his hair turns red “ok…” i mumbled “so do you like it so far” Idia asked “ya.. Keep up the good work” I replied which made him soften “I’ll continue to work hard..for you” He smiles not caring if i lied through my teeth.

----------------Ortho-----------------------------------

“Big sister, where are you?” ortho asked. I was currently in the kitchen making a snack for myself “I’m in here” i called a doll like head popped though the corner. “Can we go outside” Ortho asked “sure. Idia’s locked in his lab again” i asked and he nods “it’s fine though he’s busy with your gift” ortho said with a smile. I know what that gift was. I stumbled upon it the other night. There’s nothing gift worthy about it. “When will you think you’ll use it” ortho asked “i…I don’t know” i replied “Big brother worked really hard on it so I’m happy you like it” ortho smiled and i just nod as i finished up my food “hmm how would you want to die. I can do it painlessly if you like” Ortho asked “painlessly” i questioned “I did it with idia so i can do it for you too if you like” the child beamed. My blood went cold as i let this information sink in. “dose Idia know” I asked and he nods enthusiastically “He understands how lonely it is being dead so I had him join me” he smiled “If you’ll allow me. You can join us and we wouldn’t be lonely anymore” He stated. “Well how about we don’t talk about it and plan a surprise for your brother” I stated trying to change the topic. Ortho beamed and nod “come on let’s go in town and look for something” Ortho said as he dragged me by my hand so care free like this conversation never happened.

#twsited wonderland haunted au #twisted wonderland ghost au #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere platonic #yandere platonic ortho shroud

[lolita-lollipop]

YANDERE PAPA AIZAWA X MEDIUM READER

You clicked the buzzer in the front gate to the large mansion, and it made a loud ringing sound.

“Mr Aizawa? Yes you called me early in the morning yesterday about your… problem. I’m here now to start the assessment of your home” you spoke into the speaker as loud as you could, you were up on your tiptoes trying to reach it, and you hoped the man could hear you. Your hopes were answered when a loud buzz sounded and the gate unlatched, there was something so odd about this, such an old home with new electronics. He didn’t say anything to you, but you could feel him watching you, wether it was from within the house, or from some hidden camera.

When the gates fully opened you made your way inside, starting the long trek on foot to the mansion. Now to the normal person this might look like an appliance or insurance visit, but you weren’t a mainstream worker, you were special. Ever since you were little you’d always seen people that weren’t there, heard songs linger in the air that weren’t playing, and talked to people that no one else could see. Some called you insane, some said you’d inherited hallucinations from your father, but the others knew what you really had. You could see ghosts, hear them, interact with them. You never understood why, but some things just were, and this is one of them.

So instead of enrolling yourself in some mental facility where you would rot away drowning in medicine and apple sauce, you’d made a business off of it, “l/n’s median services” you’d named it.

And while some thought it was bullshit, thought this was a scam, some were too desperate to care. Usually the people who called you were riddled with reminders of their pasts, children that died twenty years ago, wives that had passed of cancer, old women from thousands of years ago, they couldn’t see them like you could, but they knew that these things were there. So they call you.

Like this man, he’d called in yesterday about his own home, clearly he was rich because he’d offered you almost 5 times your price if you could come the next day. Even thought he told you little to no details about this work, Obviously you accepted. But as you walked the long trail down to his large home, you couldn’t help but regret that decision, this didn’t feel like your average appointment where an old mother just wanted to feel sane in her own home, didn’t feel like you should be here. But here you are. By the time you’d made it to the front double doors the doubt festered in your mind, but it was far too late to turn back. So you knocked thrice like he’d told you over the call.

This man was odd, he refused to tell you any details about why he wanted you here, he just told you to come at 3:00 tommorow afternoon and knock three times in his front door and you would be let in. All he gave you were those directions and his name. But as the front doors were pulled open and out popped a middle aged man with black hair and a scruffy beard, yoh couldn’t help but notice how normal he looked.

“You’re y/n l/n?”

“Yes sir, l/n median’s only employee”

“Alright, you may come in”

And he went silent, creaking open the door for you to slide in, just for him to slam it behind you, it made you slightly jump. His eyes traveled all the way down you, assessing you, before he apparently deemed you okay and began walking, you expecte d that he wished you to follow, so you did.

“Ah- sir” you begun speaking, trying to keeps up with him as he swiftly walked down a long corridor. He barely spared you a glance before continuing his walk, clearly this man didn’t get out much, usually rich people that lived in big houses like this were socialites, the Aizawa family was well off enough to be known through town, but never talked about much. He looked sad, his face downturned with frown wrinkles across the corners of his mouth, probably because of what you were here for.

“Call me Aizawa.” He curtly told you, quickening his pace doesn’t he hallway, along the way he grabbed a large key from his pocket, and once you’d come across a large door, he begun unlocking all the large locks in the door.

“Ah yes- Aizawa sir, do you mind if I ask what my purpose is here today? I just kinda need to know what I’m dealing with so I can be prepared” you questioned, slightly nervous, you never really did big jobs in places like this, but creepy places worth millions upon millions. So obviously you were uneasy, but there was also something about this man. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

“My daughter. She died quite some time ago, but I think her presence still remains”

“Oh- well- Um. Why do you think so?” Yoh couldn’t place it but there was something that intimidated you about this man, maybe it was his 6’6 stature or the way he looked so angry at the world, but your internal alarms were blaring with red, telling you that this is a man you should be scared of.

“I hear her laughing, sometimes during the night I’ll hear little footsteps by my bed, and her old toys will be thrown about the house even though I don’t move them.” He was very short with his answer, but it was enough information to tell you that he wasn’t some crazy who just wanted to find a real ghost, that this was his real daughter. You could tell by the tone in his voice, it was pained, angry. You spent a little bit looking at his face, the daughter must have died pretty young, considering the use of little footsteps and toys.

“Uhm- how old was she? And- and how did it happen? Was it natural or did… someone else cause it.” You knew not to refer to death directly with these kinds of people, after so long they were still mourning and anything could flick them off, even with calm and collected people like this man- Aizawa, he might break down at the thought.

“She was just older than 2, she’d barely learned how to walk yet. And she had a bad heart, there were some complications at birth that the doctors hadn’t thought to look into, and one day she just… didn’t wake up” you didn’t meet his gaze as he spoke, hearing about children specifically dying made you feel sick, especially when the parent’s the one speaking. You didn’t notice how his gaze lingered for far too long.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, uhm- did she have any nicknames you called her, pet names even? Any specific toys or things she liked? And- do you by chance have a photo? I just need something to connect with so I can communicate with her better” your hands waved about while you spoke, and you talked so fragilely, almost like anything you would say would set this man off.

“Ah yes, when she was a baby her mother always called her daisy, it’s on her gravestone actually- and she used to love the yarn rag dolls I would make for her. As for pictures- I have one from a few days before she passed.” His voice was hushed, almost like he hadn’t spoken about this poor child in a long time. Eventually the two of you slowed to a stop, and he pulled out a few photos, and a woven rag doll with red yarn for hair. You winced at the mention of a gravestone, no parent should have to bury their child.

He placed one of his rough hands against the small of your back to guide you into another hallway, this one was shorter, smaller, there were messily drawn photos hung up from the walls, toys scattered about the floor, and a few small dresses hanging over chandeliers. Before you could ask what this all was he spoke up, squeezing you close to him. Yoh would call him out on touching you, but your sympathy ran too strong at the moment.

“This was her hallway where she mainly stayed, her room’s to the left, and her playroom to the right, at the end of the hallway is my room where she would sometimes sleep, and the room next to that is where she would take her naps… that’s where she died.” He pointed to the rooms as he walked down the hallways with you, holding you tight.

“Okay. This is probably the best spot, I don’t need much to see her, it’s all natural, but- can If you can hold my hand? I know it- it’s stupid but sometimes the noises make me feint or fall and I just- I just need someone to catch me or I’ll get hurt” you pointed o the scar on your forehead where you’d fallen before, a loud shriek had sounded through an old apartment and it had made you fall down a flight of stairs. Usually you would have one of your friends come with you, but you felt like you could trust this man… oddly enough. He smiles for once at your request, warmly offering up his hand.

“Oh yes that’s alright, I’ll be here if you need me to catch you, always.” You chose to ignore the last line, and just intertwined your fingers with his own. Then, holding the photos in your hand, and the rag doll, you began deepening your breathing, just separating yourself from the atmosphere around. You breathed in and breathed out, in, out, in, out, in out. Until your felt a bump on your legs,

“Daisy? Are you here?”

And saw a toddler running past

The small girl paused after running into you, and stared at you for a good long moment, before raising her arms up as if to ask you to lift her, you bent down and held up the doll for her, but before you could touch her she vanished. So you continued walking

“Did you see her? Is she here? Did she say anything? Did she look hurt?” Aizawa blurted our questions one after another, but you brought your finger up to your lips to respectfully silence him. Loud noises scared ghost children away, especially voices.

“Daisy? Can you come out to see me? I have your daddy with me. Don’t you want to see him again?” You attempted to coax the girl out of wherever she was hiding, to no avail. As you walked passed the different rooms a sweet smell got stronger and stronger. Until you started seeing small flashes, pictures really, in your mind. One was of the small girl in her fathers lap as a newborn, her mothers dead body not far away, must’ve died at birth. The next was of the girl crawling, playing with one of the dolls. And the next was the girl, now with longer hair and less chubby cheeks, having her picture taken, the same picture you were holding in her hand.

The last photo was of the girl sitting in a crib, letting out a small whimper, before going completely silent.

“Daisy? Please come out so we can talk, I promise I’m here to make you feel better.”

Then you heard the little putter of her running feet against the hardwood floor, felt the man beside you’s hand squeeze, and then felt her bump into you one more time. Instead of a giggle, or a smile thought, her face held a deep set frown, tears flowed freely down her face, but no noise came out of her mouth, something was wrong. Then she pointed to the room next to aizawas bedroom, and you got a glimpse of the interior. And gasped.

“What? What’s wrong? Is she still here? Did she fall? What did you see?” Aizawa asked more questions, noticing how your face fell, how your eyes were burned out into the threshold of that door. Your breathing turned heavy, and the smell now washed over you and clogged up your nose. What the hell.

Girls. So, so many girls stared back at you from that room. They all looked similar to that baby, but not the same, they had the same h/c colored hair, the same e/c eyes, and the same s/c skin, but each was slightly different. One thing they had in common, was their eyes, they were hollow, like the life had been sucked out of them. It took you a few seconds for you to hear them, but eventually you did. They all muttered the same things.

“Get out now. Run. Leave. You’re the real one. He wants you. He doesn’t want us. You have to leave. You’re the real one. Run. Run. RUN” they screamed at you, you pretended you weren’t seeing anything scary, that you weren’t seeing anything wrong. Your words came out shaky and misplaced, but they let the man think what you were trying to get him to. You didn’t realize it until it was too late, you had e/c eyes, you have h/c hair, and you had s/c skin, but your face wasn’t different from the little girls. It looked so similar,

too similar.

“Daisy, you’re free now, go see your mother, you can leave sweetheart, just leave.” You spoke to the little girl and she nodded with a smile, and in a second, she vanished. All the girls vanished too, the noise stopped, the voices stopped, and the presence, left the house. They were all gone, you’d done your job. But they’d left you.

“Is that it? Was she okay? Are you done now?” He continued with his questions, now his hands were placed firmly against your shoulders, pressing down. His face held a factor of something different, not maliceful, almost love. He knew you’d lied.

“Y-yes. Her soul is gone from this place now- i- you don’t have to pay me anything- I have to go now. Thank you for your time sir. “ you sped through your words like a race, too fearful to sit down with this man and discuss how much he owed. Maybe you falsely judged his character to be a good person, there was something different behind his eyes, maybe you never noticed it, maybe it just appeared, but it was clear this man didn’t just bring you here to get rid of his dead daughter. And you didn’t want to find out what that reason was. So you turned around and made your way back down the hallway and towards the main front room, but before you could even take more than three steps he caught your wrist with his callused hands.

“That’s a cute little act you got there, walk around for a little bit and ask if she’s gone, just to cover up your own secrets” his hand clenched gently at your own, holding you tight enough to keep you from moving, enough to keep the fear pumping high in your veins. Yoh didn’t want to join all of those ghosts in that room, all of them who look something like you. You didn’t understand his words, nor did you want to, at this point you were just focused on getting out of this place.

“Sir- please let go of me- I don’t know what you’re thinking but I don’t have any secrets- o- I can actually see them- you’re daughter is gone-“ he didn’t listen to your pleading as he held onto your wrist tightly, you dug your heels into the ground and threw your body weight forward in attempts to free yourself from his grip. But to no avail, he was far taller than you, a bulky man with broad shoulders and heavy set muscles. You couldn’t fight him if you wanted to. Fuck.

“Sweetheart, I told you to call me Aizawa. And as far as I can see, my daughter is right here, with me” you spun around, confused. You’d seen the girl fade into nothing, fizzle into another realm you considered to be death. She wasn’t here anymore, not that you could see. Was it possible that she was still haunting her father?

“No. No I watched her go, she’s free. Let me go mr Aizawa. Please-“

“My daughter never died.” The phrase was simple, yet it still sent your head spinning, was this man delusional? Or were you? You’d seen those memories so vividly, almost as if they were your own, and those girls, ten or twelve of them, all similar versions of you. If that little girl didn’t die then who was it? No, no that was her ghost. She’s dead. But what if it wasn’t. Does that mean that/ this guy tried to find his daughter? and just grabbed any girl from wherever? But why were they all ghosts now? Wait. He killed them, including that little girl. Looking for his daughter. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god.

In your moment of confusion, he took up your ceased struggling as an advantage to bend over and loop his arms under your legs and the small of your back, lifting you up off the wooden flooring into a cradle. Before you could question him he spoke up.

“She did have a heart attack, but an ambulance came and pumped her full of medicine, after she was healed they took her from me. Apparently the government believed I was too violent to be around her. So they took her. Not her. They took you” it was then that you could see where this was going, he was delusional the , sure you grew up in the foster care system, but they’d told you your parents were in jail. Not crazy or violent. Once the idea set in your mind, that’s when the initial panic ceased, and it now turned into a full blown tsunami of fear and anxiety. What would this man do to you.

“N-no- I saw her- I saw them. She’s dead- they’re all dead. I- I have to go. Let. Me. Go” you, surprisingly calmly spoke, the beginnings of tears begun to trickle down your cheeks, and you kicked and scratched at his chest. But it didn’t work, it wouldn’t. He smiles lovingly at you, how hadn’t you noticed these signs before? All the doting looks, the way his voice was laced with love. How had you mistaken all that for coldness?

“Oh no oh no- don’t cry Daisy. There’s no need to be scared! I’ll take very good care of you, you’re my daughter after all, my sweet little baby that I lost. Don’t you worry. I’m here now, daddy’s here” he soothed and wiped your tears off your face, his hands were rough, but gentle, you couldn’t help but flinch away from him at his touch.

“I-I’m not your daughter. Sir I swear. Please- please just let me go” you were begging now, humiliating yes, but you were desperate now, the knowledge of the weight of the situation now laid heavy in your brain. Your voice began to crack, and you could feel your resolve beginning to bend into nothing, anything that was holding your emotions in had broken. And you began sobbing, screaming even, anything to finally get him off of you. He assumed it was just your confusion, this must be overwhelming right? So he tried to soothe you, bouncing up and down slightly and patting your back slowly, not understanding that he was the real reason this was happening to you.

“Don’t worry baby- I have all you need here. My pretty little one, I’m so glad to have you back” he coped, brushing that h/c hair out of your face, if just made you sob even harder.

In the midst of your tantrum, just in the corner of your peripheral vision, you caught a glimpse of a girl. Once again that looked like you, just smaller, younger. You reached out to her with one arm, sobbing the worlds “help” or “please” , his touch felt suffocating now. Your parents were dead, he was just a delusional man doing insane things. You refused to believe that your entire life is a lie.

“You did this to us. He wanted you. But he got us. We got hurt because of you. You did this yoh did this you did this. This is

All

Your

Fault”

———————————————————————

If you couldn’t tell, I just watched a bunch of paranormal horror movies and now feel the need to write paranormal oneshots.

This was a request sent by message, so it doesn’t show up. It was super super fun to write though.

Please. Please. PLEASE tell me if it’s hard to understand!

Have a great day today! Goodnight my lovely readers!

#platonic obsession #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #soft yandere #yandere my hero academia #yandere parents #yandere eraserhead #yandere soft #yandere shouta aizawa #soft yandere aizawa #yandere Aizawa #yandere daddy #yandere papa #yandere papa Aizawa #platonic yandere aizawa #Ghost #ghosts x reader #yandere ghost #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #paranormal au #paranormal #ghosts

[dearest-painter]

How would Yandere Platonic Miguel react to Ghost Child!Reader wanting to finally be put to rest? Tired of Afton coming back to life. If Afton does then everyone that he has killed go to rest as well.

He wouldn’t want that….he knows it’s selfish but he doesn’t want you gone..he needs you with him…you can’t leave him

#yandere #please don’t do this #obession #unhealthy #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #gn reader #x gn reader #yandere x gn reader #Ghost child!Reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere spider man across the spider verse #gender neutral reader #genderfluid enity answers! #gender neutral y/n #yandere x gender neutral reader #✉️mail arrived✉️

[stayinguplate]

Happy Halloween!🎃

I hope you all are having a good Halloween two one shots should come out today or tomorrow other than that i hope you all have a good Halloween 👻

#fanfic #yandere #platonic yandere #oneshot #headcanon #halloween #oh a spooky ghost

[yandere-kokeshi]

— Who hurt you?

— yandere dad-ghost x gn teenager reader

Summary || You come home bloodied and bruised from school. While getting patched up by your dad, you reveal things

A/N || This is one of my favorite fics atm. Idk why but seeing soft dad ghost?? Yeah. That's how to do, my heart is. Anyway, enjoy 😉

Warnings || details of being hurt/bullied, blood, hints that ghost kills, and comfort.

Copper and sharpie. That’s all you can smell. The stench has embossed itself on your clothes, your flesh, and inside your nostrils. It was embarrassing really, coming home after being chased by bullies. 

They slapped you to the ground. Laughed in your face as the girls kept you from getting up, sitting directly on your chest. They pulled out permanent markers and drew foul things on your face, arms, and legs. 

Knead your stomach and kicked you. All you wanted was to hang out with them.

Silence settles between the bathroom, hearing your dad — Simon Riley, Ghost or a big Kodiak bear you like to call him, go through his bedroom, the sounds of his drawers opening and closing as he huffs loudly.

You heard the cruel rumors of your reputation. It was a gnawing sort of feeling of betrayal. One that ate away at your very soul and left nothing but pain in its wake. The action alone may not be the worst thing in the entire world. But what made betrayal ache was that in the past, in its place, was trust.

The rumors of you spread like a disease; whispers in the school of ‘slut’ and ‘freak’. Everyone looked at you like something else. Even teachers scoffed at you. You thought you could handle it, until today. It’s expected for your favorite shirt to be stained — again. 

You didn’t want to hear your dads voice. Him being incredibly disappointed in you. 

You leaned your head on the back of the toilet, chewing the inside of your cheek as you waited for him to come in. It was long, just like the torture you’d endured hours before. 

“What happened?” 

You stayed quiet, continuing to look up at the white ceiling before turning your head to the side, looking at him in the doorway with half-lidded eyes. He’s leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed against his chest; almost like he’s disappointed. But his voice says otherwise. 

“Kiddo, what happened?” he re-asks, his boots creaking with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space toward you. 

You stayed quiet, making him stare at you before sighing. 

He opened the bottom of the sink, grabbed the med kit and seized the necessary items before turning on the faucet, grabbing another dark rag due to the one you’re holding already used; stained with markers, blood, and some snot.  

Your dad clicked his tongue, “What the hell happened?”

“M’ don’t wanna talk about it,” 

“You worried me,” your dad voiced, using your name. You considered his words carefully, staring at your lap, legs, and arms littered with all kinds of marks. 

“You also worry too much,” you pointed out, watching him kneel before you. 

He steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn’t speak; at first, silence hangs between you, once again as throws it away; grabbing the cloth into the sink. Then, he soaks it until it’s dripping, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint color and standing out against his pale skin.

“You didn’t answer your phone,” he directs, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. “I thought something happened. Which did.”

You stayed quiet for a second. “… I didn’t mean to scare you,” you whisper. 

You can see his brown eyes narrow, his mind occupied by something. Clearly, he’s angry. And who wouldn’t? Finding your kid barely able to stand up, laying against the wall for help covered in bruises and blood, was a frightening sight. Especially with his type of job, anything is possible. 

The pressure of the cloth against your face is so delicate, almost like he’s appearing afraid to hurt you — gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline as well as the drawings. He shakes his head gently, considering your words. “Not your fault, kiddo.”

He then grabbed your arm, rotating your wrist as he examined the bruises and forming – you watched his face fill with fury.

“Who did this to you?” he seethed, voice deep and low, a tone you’d heard not so much before. 

You shook your head, clearly not in the mood to talk about it. But it didn’t satisfy him, he called your name, demanding you to look at him. Tears were already falling before more words curled out of his mouth.

At long last, finally with the adrenaline and frightened state going away, you let your guard down, letting tears pour down your eyes. It stung, face hurting more than you’d like. But you didn’t care. You needed to cry.

Your hands went up to wipe away the tears, but before you can hit your sore cheeks, he’s capturing you in his arms and pulling you to his chest. He doesn’t say anything, letting your head rest on his shoulder. All you required at this moment was to be held, to know you were loved. And that he wasn’t mad — never at you. 

He rubbed your back, kissing the side of your head as you cried out more — sobbing turned into occasional hiccups and gasps, then sniffles and permanent hiccups that he would occasionally let out a chuckle on. 

“Ready to talk about it, kid?” He asks cautiously, prodding but patient. You only sigh softly before looking up at him, quickly noticing the snot and tears stained into his gray hoodie. 

“It’s just…” you pause, trying to find the right words to say. “Things have been rough, lately. School has been hard. Everything seems to be going wrong. Especially with the other kids.”

His eyes squint as he listens to you speak, the hazel color meeting your own, leaving you choking in your words. He’s your dad. You shouldn’t be afraid of telling him. But what if—?

“—And I know that being a teenager is hard. But, I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to see them.” you trail off, a shuddering breath escaping your lips as you feel your eyes swell up once more.

His thumb catches them before they fall, however, and you smile at him for a moment before continuing.

“I’m scared to go back,” you whisper brokenly. 

For a moment, the bathroom is silent, but all at once your dad’s arms are tightly around you in a hug. All-encompassing, it only makes you cry once more. Your head slumps over, forehead pressing into his shoulder – his hand pressing against the back of your neck.

“How long has it been happening?” 

You shrug your shoulders, digging yourself deeper into his shoulder. “Long enough, I guess…”

“Kiddo…” he starts, sighing out of defeat. “Shit- I’m sorry for not noticing. Le’s keep you home, mkay’?” 

“Okay,” you whisper, but that’s good enough for him. His hands started rubbing your back, before reaching over for the rag on the counter — continuing to clean up the stained marks and your irritated cheeks.

“Do you need me to do anything?” he says, his tone hardened. From the looks of it, he had a plan. But, you knew or not. His face was unreadable at times. 

You shook your head, before hissing out at the soaped cloth on your cheek. He gently moved your hair out of the way, just enough to expose the wound near your eye. 

“Sorry. Need to make sure it won’t get infected.” 

Before you know it, he was done. Already putting the first aid kit back under the sink and throwing the used cloth into the wash. “Tell ya’ what,” he says, making you raise your eyebrows. Though, he pulled his cracked-screen phone from his pocket, the exact one he’s had for years and the one you’ve begged to get a new one. 

He offers it to you, already on the phone on. More often or not, he didn’t let you snoop through it. Licensed files detailed in the phone. Plus, the last time you played a prank on him with it, he grounded you — for two weeks. 

“W-hat do you want me to… do?” you stammered questioningly, hesitantly grabbing it before looking at the screen. Then back at him.

“Order pizza. Get whatever you want.”

Your eyes widened, a smile widening to which he chuckled at. “There you are,” he says fondly, hand brushing your hair back. “You get whatever, yeah?”

“Okay,” you say, the first true smile forming today.

You got up, eagerly running out of the bathroom and downstairs as Simon yelled a small ‘watch it!’. As he gets up from his knees, he walked into his office – making sure to hear that you’re calling the pickup line before ringing Price.

He immediately answered, asking what he needed. From the way you described their name-calling, the images of you sobbing as he held you, anger filled his veins, knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist with rage. 

“I need a favor.” 

And weeks later, the news began talking about a murder spree – snapping you out of your thoughts, only to see both of your ex-friends, and those teachers on TV. A pang of guilt set through you. But, beside you, your dad had a huge smile; one that was promising to never let anyone hurt you.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

#the icons are not mine #they belong to their rightful owners #kokeshi!! #yandere blog #yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere #yandere #platonic yandere #yandere ghost #dad ghost #yandere ghost x reader #yandere simon riley #yandere mw2 #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere x teenager reader #platonic yandere mw2 #yandere platonic #ghost mw2 #ghost x kid reader #ghost x reader #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #mw2 ghost #cod x reader #platonic mw2 #ghost x gn reader

[klemen-tine]

White Whale

Platonic!Yandere Batfam x Male!Deaf Reader

First Batfam post... this obsession for DC and specifically the Batfam has come out of nowhere and has me by the throat.

But here you guys go.

Thoughts

Sign/Morse Code

Speaking

TW: Hints at past attempted rape, disability discrimination

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Things have been quiet, but at the same time hectic, in the Wayne manor as of lately. Almost everyone was there, sharing the same space and eating the same meals. Almost. The third oldest brother, Y/N, was missing. It stung to say, but the truth of the matter was that he had run away. Leaving behind the external processor of his cochlear implants, and only taking a backpack of clothes. He had left behind the credit card Bruce gave to everyone, only taking out a large sum of cash the day before and booking it. 

Only one note, ‘I’ll be fine.’ All the trackers left in a straight line on his bedside table, some still covered in blood from when he must have dug them out of his body. It made some of the family members wonder if Y/N had always been aware or if he had found them by chance. 

It’s been three months, and everyone was about to go crazy. How could they not? Y/N, for how independent he was and capable, was deaf and has only known the Manor. Jason, the closest to Y/N, has been more vicious on the patrols and was constantly pacing back and forth in the library. Reading and rereading all of Y/N’s favorites (even though he hated them), and sometimes even just sitting in Y/N’s room. Taking in what he had left behind, barely taking any clothes, none of his electronics (his phone was still here), and one of his favorite books that he always kept in his room. 

Jason’s going to put a tracker in that book once they get Y/N back. 

Nevertheless, sometimes he just sits there. On Y/N’s bed, and takes in the room, sometimes he’s alone and sometimes he’s with a sibling. Every now and then he’ll see Bruce in here, thumbing through Y/N’s journals. 

When Jason closes his eyes, could feel the ghost of Y/N’s touches, the feeling of Y/N’s smaller and thinner body resting against his as he read. Thin fingers gently pressed against Jason’s throat to feel the vibrations, picking up when Jason spoke in a higher or lower tone, laughing when he made an obnoxious voice for a character he absolutely loathed. Cold hands gently cupping his face under the sweaty red helmet, grounding Jason to the present. 

Dick, as the eldest child, prided himself in being in-tune with his siblings. He would bend and twist himself to keep himself available and aware of his siblings' emotions. He was the guy everyone went to when things were wrong or they needed advice. So, he wonders what he did wrong for Y/N to leave without saying anything. Their third older brother never hinted at anything being wrong, or even any sign of him wanting to leave. There was no change in his moods, no change in interests, no major cash withdrawals besides the night he left. 

His older brother instincts were stressed and have been stressed since his little brother had disappeared. In his hands, he fingered a silver stud that Y/N had left behind. Smart of him, because a small tracker was placed underneath the tourmaline gem. The blue hiding it wonderfully while also looking beautiful on Y/N’s skin. Decorating his ears that he had pierced himself (he can still hear Alfred’s outrage whenever he is reminded of that), and being the only piece of jewelry that they wanted him to wear. 

Still, Dick had wished he had taken them. He wonders if Y/N knew about the trackers in these earrings, or the trackers in the pairs of shoes he left. If he did, the other did a great job in not letting anyone know. However, if he didn’t, then it made this all the more frustrating. How could their deaf, non-combatant, and to be frank average intelligence, brother get out of this heavily monitored manor? Tim had spent years upgrading the systems, making it stronger and stronger each time. 

So, how? More importantly, why?

Dick couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why Y/N would want to leave. He’s fed great food, he has a nice bed, he can read great books, and he’s always surrounded by family. It’s not like they limited his time outside, he can basically come and go when he wants. 

As long as he was back in the manor by nightfall, Y/N could go anywhere. 

What sucked even more was that none of them had the slightest clue where he could be. Y/N could be dead for all they know. 

Dick subdued that thought, having faith that the self-defense they had drilled into Y/N would keep him safe until they found him. However they all intimately know how unfair and unkind the world can be. Y/N, sweet and defenseless Y/N, was all alone somewhere in the world. The worst outcomes kept reappearing in his mind and playing on Y/N’s past traumas. 

Why couldn’t his brother see that he was safest here? Everyone praised the Lord that Y/N expressed no interest in being a vigilante, and that his career of choice was instead choosing to be an editor. He took a gap year this year, which everyone rejoiced over. Y/N was a hard worker, and was someone who fully dived into things without taking a break. Like Tim. 

Still, Dick wished Y/N would see what they saw. Y/N needs them, just like how they need Y/N. Dick flopped into the couch, thumbing through his photos and finding one of him and Y/N. When they do find him, they’re going to have to remind him where he belongs. 

++++

Y/N took in the sun rays with a content smile. His once pale skin now has a slight tint to it, and his hair now lighter due to the sea water and sun. The white beaches reflect the warm rays and the blue waters look like familiar eyes. It took him a while to get used to being on his own, which was proof that he needed to do this. Never in his life has he felt so free. 

The wind tossing his hair and the view of waves crashing on the shore had him smiling. The Moby Dick in his hands as he reread the pages, noting the post-it notes he had in it, jotting down his thoughts and musings. The Dominican Republic beaches were already something to die for, but here on the hidden beaches, where only a handful of people knew of its location, were worth killing for. Y/N looked back at the small bungalow he was renting, paying in cash to keep his name off the lease and only staying until March before he will leave for Europe, and smiled. A cute little thing that looked like it could topple at the slightest storm. The electricity was powered by a generator and there was no hot water. Maybe warm, but never hot. Which Y/N was shockingly fine with. It wasn’t like it was cold here like how it was in Gotham. 

His biggest stressor was cooking. Which furthermore proved how he needed to do this. Out of all his brothers, he is the only one who doesn’t know how to cook. He can make the basics, like mac-n-cheese, ramen, rice, and basic pasta dishes. However, when his landlord had given him a fish to eat, Y/N stared at it with great embarrassment. 

It’s not like he had a phone, or even the internet, to google it. 

He had almost set the kitchen on fire but that’s something he’s not going to tell his landlord about. 

Thankfully, despite how well-hidden this bungalow was, the community around was strong and well-receptive to him. When he first told them that he was deaf, which was completely by accident, he started getting free food and notepads to write on. However, no one treated him differently. He wasn’t coddled, besides once again the free meal every now and then but he’s positive that also has to deal with how frightened he looked when he was asked to help out with cooking one time, nor was he pestered. 

As much as he loves his family, the Wayne family could be… a lot. Always around him, constantly monitoring him, coddling him like he was going to break at the slightest hint of him facing a struggle. Some of them unknowingly, or unintentionally, use his deafness against him as a reason why he couldn’t do certain things. He is grateful to Bruce for giving him his hearing somewhat back, the cochlear implants truly made life easier, but Y/N was curious about the part of him. 

He lost his hearing at the age of 10, a gradual process that started when he was 8. The nerves in his ears deteriorated to the point not even the sound of a building explosion could be heard by him. Being deaf in East Gotham as a 10-year-old was basically a death sentence. It didn’t help that Y/N was naturally curious, meaning there were a lot of things he stuck his nose in that he shouldn’t have. It is only because of Jason that he is alive, which the other will always deny but Y/N stands by. 

Jason and him had met when they were both 6, being neighbors with similar living conditions had made them close. Jason was with him when his hearing started to disappear, and he was with Jason when Catherine had died from an overdose. The two of them took to the streets and set up a small base in an abandoned building. 

He was with him when they decided to steal the Batmobile's wheels, clinging onto Jason’s red hoodie when the local vigilante had lifted him up by the collar of said hoodie. Those eyes that peaked through the mask drifted from defiant blue eyes to terrified E/C eyes. 

They had become twins, brothers with different last names and different birthdays, but twins nevertheless. Inseparable and always joined at the hips, only leaving each other when Jason went on patrol as Robin and Y/N chose to stay behind with Alfred. While Jason learned how to kick someone’s ass, Y/N learned how to treat them when their own asses got kicked. 

He cried when Jason died. Sobbed and deteriorated as he slept in Jason’s room, and sobbed some more when he tried to read some of Jason’s books. He let Dick comfort him, taking him on daily excursions to the beach and riding on the back of his motorcycle. Bruce had read to him, just how Jason used to, and while it wasn’t the same he appreciated the man trying. Alfred continued to be the emotional support they all relied on him to be, and constantly patted his shoulders and baked him his favorite treats. 

Y/N screamed at Bruce when he brought Tim back, stating that he was the new Robin. He made it clear he wasn’t mad at Tim, but Bruce. He gave the man the cold shoulder for weeks while making sure Tim was accommodated for. He cried again when Jason came back, hugging the other and cupping Jason’s older face between his hands. He rested a hand on Bruce’s shoulder when Damian showed up, feeling for him and showing emotions that Bruce could not. 

Y/N loves his family with everything in him, and he knows that he is loved back. However, the love from one person was different from the love of multiple people. Y/N knows, is intimately aware, that their love is the type disguised as golden necklaces and stained glass windows. When in reality, they are chains and the gold bars of a cage. He knows they kept him dependent on them for life necessities, such as food, money, and a place to sleep. 

He was never allowed to get a job. When he tried he was rejected or never called back. He was allowed to cook, but only the basics, as Alfred didn’t want him hurting himself. His curfew was before nightfall, meaning in winter 4:30 was when he had to be back inside the manor. 

They gave him his hearing so the silence would continue to be deafening. It is why he left the external processors. Whether Y/N liked it or not, he was deaf. He is a part of that community, and it is about time he got used to that part of himself. 

The young adult knows his family loves him, and wants to care for him, but as an adult he knows that he needs to learn some things about life on his own. 

Bruce taught them all well. Alfred taught them all well. His older brothers and younger brothers taught him well. Y/N is ready for this. He has been for a while. 

Closing his book, marking the page with the bookmark, he watched a sperm whale breach for only a moment before disappearing under the waves. Unable to hear the sound it made, but the sight of it was enough. He set the book down on the towel and made his way to the waters. 

++++

It was an accident. It truly was. However, it was a happy accident that had everyone packing and getting ready for the trip. 

One of Tim’s classmates had just returned from vacation, and she was showing photos of the sperm whales that gathered. Tim looked because it was shoved in his face, and he nearly snatched her phone out of her hand. In the back, dressed like a local, he was there. His eyes focused on the breach sperm whales, but Tim would recognize him from any angle in any get up. 

He asked what beach she was at, and she said Playa Rincon, Dominican Republic. Y/N was in the Dominican Republic. But for what? Y/N has never shown any interest in the tropics or even the ocean in general. Sure he loves the beach, but that was it. Never has he expressed his desire to go to another country to experience it. 

So, what could have been there that would draw Y/N in? With the amount of money he withdrew, he could have bought a plane ticket anywhere in the world, and he chose the Dominican Republic. Without a doubt using a fake idea, a fake name, and he was probably using a different name to either rent a place or buy a house. 

Sure, they can all just go over, but if they do they would have to tear apart the country to find him. They work fast, but words can travel faster. 

There has to be a reason why Y/N went. Something there that would at least narrow the search. 

Tim looked around Y/N’s room, searching for anything that would give him a hint. Anything. 

He glanced at the bookshelf where the only book missing was the Moby Dick. A book about how a group of whalers get bested by a giant sperm whale that is believed to be a god. It is a book about a Captain that has a self-destructive obsession with the white whale called the Moby Dick. Based on a true story of a crew on a ship called the Essex. 

“I’ve always felt bad for the whale.” Tim raised an eyebrow, staring at his brother who was stroking their youngest brother’s head as Damian slept on. The book In the Heart of the Sea in between his thin fingers as he met Tim’s inquiring gaze. 

“There is no proof as to why the whale rammed into the Essex, but many believe it was due to a mistake. The hammering in the hull of the ship sounded like another whale.” Tim signed, ‘But why do you feel bad?’ Y/N smiled, “Because, not only were they being hunted but now a book written about how this one whale is the reason a reputable Captain goes mad really does paint them in a bad light.” 

‘Whaling has been outlawed.’ 

“Still, I bet this book only increased it for a while.” Tim watched Y/N bookmark his page, closing the book before returning his hands to Damian’s head. 

‘Do you like sperm whales?’ Y/N beamed, “I do. They really are such an amazing animal, I hope I get to see one in person.” 

Tim stood straighter, pulling out his phone and doing a quick Google search. The Dominican Republic is the only place where sperm whales stay all year. 

“There’s no way.” 

“What.” Tim brushed past Damian, rushing down to the Batcave and ignoring the glare the youngest sent him. It didn’t take long to find whale sighting information. It took even less time to find the pattern. Series of reds, blue, yellows, and green decorating the waters around Dominican Republic. The red dots were where the most recent sights were, and he stared at the location his classmate was at when they saw the whale. Where Y/N’s photo was accidentally taken. 

There is only one spot that the red dots haven’t reached yet, and if the pattern stayed true, they had about two to three days. 

Tim fished out his phone, calling Bruce, “I know where Y/N is.” 

+++

Bruce loves his sons. He would risk himself for them and would do everything in his power to ensure they are safe. Yes, they had been Robins, yes Jason had died, yes his and Dick’s relationship was still rocky, but damn did he love them. 

He stared at a photo of when Y/N and Jason were 13, 6 months freshly moved into the manor, and it was him and Dick standing on opposite sides of them. Jason grinning brightly, holding a more timid Y/N’s hand who was holding onto Bruce’s jacket. Dick was crouching next to Jason, laughing at something the other had said before the picture was taken. Y/N, when they first moved in, had been terribly shy. He always hid behind or stayed next to Jason, and watched Bruce and Alfred with hesitant eyes. Jason on the other hand was outspoken with his mistrust, but willing to comply with their rules for some things. 

Bruce remembers when Y/N first helped Alfred dress their bruises and scratches. Alfred taking on a more unruly Jason, while Y/N helped with the minor stuff on Bruce. He had rubbed Y/N’s head with his ungloved hand afterwards, and he watched as those E/Cochromic eyes widened before a large smile took over his young face. Bright and happy with little care in the world. 

He had wanted to keep that on Y/N’s face forever. 

Bruce will be the first to admit that he didn’t do a great job in that. All his failures hung in front of him, and Y/N and Alfred were reminders that those failures didn’t affect just him. Yet, Bruce watched Y/N power on. Continuing to keep his chin up and shoulders back, taking on the new day with more determination. 

Y/N had learned to be strong on his own, and while yes, Bruce is extremely and undeniably proud of him, he is also worried. Terrified. Something he shared with everyone else. The world is unkind to people who are different. It’s unkind to people in general, but to add in something about yourself that you cannot control and that is different from everyone else, it is terrible. Y/N, for how normal he pretends to be, is far from it. 

It stresses Bruce out. He is constantly worried for him, constantly double-checking and ensuring that Y/N is okay. Bruce doesn’t want to admit that he is softer to Y/N because he is deaf, because that is not the complete truth. If anything, Bruce knows he is more controlling of Y/N because of that. Always having to know where he is, who he’s with, what he’s doing and whether it is safe enough for him or not. 

A helicopter parent that the child cannot hear. 

So when Tim had told him of how Y/N had somehow managed to get to the Dominican Republic, and was most likely living there, Bruce wanted to flip a table. All for some whales. He was more stressed than impressed over the fact that his son, who had no experience with Robin or anything illegal, managed to not only get a fake passport, a fake ID, and then live in another country for three months. 

“Oh that kid?” One of the locals recognized who Bruce was asking about, a smile on their face as they recalled what an excellent free diver he was. The man grinned, pulling out a camera that had Bruce raising an eyebrow, “I’m an underwater photographer. That kid is a natural in the ocean.” Bruce stared at the photos, and even he could admire just how in place Y/N looked amongst the coral reefs and deep blue. Long legs looked fluid, and his body lithe like the fish he swam amongst. 

Y/N looked free. 

“Pleasant to talk to as well. It's a shame he’s deaf, he’d be a great teacher for other free-divers.” Bruce wanted to deck this man across the face for stating that Y/N couldn’t do something because of his lack of hearing, but that would be hypocritical. How many times has he used Y/N’s disability against him? 

According to Tim, this area is the next stop for whale sightings, meaning Y/N has to be somewhere around here. The family has split up, asking the locals and looking around the tourist areas. 

“Did he say where he was staying?” The local shook his head, “No, didn’t ask either.” Bruce wants to break the man's fingers just to make sure the other doesn’t know. The local, as if sensing the dangers he was in, gulped, “But if I had to guess, he most likely lives near coral reefs.

“Somewhere he could free dive constantly without having to go out on a boat. Afterall, for how short of a time he’s been doing it, he’s extremely impressive. A lot of this sport takes practice.” 

Bruce nodded in thanks. It is the  Brucie Wayne smile now on his face, “Thanks, and how much for the photo?” 

Y/N stumbled back to his place, his cheeks flushed and a giggle on his lips. In his hands was a bottle of homemade tequila from one of the locals he had just gotten done partying with, and the taste was thick on his tongue but he couldn’t deny that the heat in his belly was addicting. Stumbling into the tiny bungalow, he set the bottle down on the kitchen table and resisted the urge to take another sip. 

Doing a quick stretch, he watched the waves crash against the beach, the full moon illuminating the waters and the white sand. 

Only one more day and the sperm whales should be at this side of the island. Maybe they’ll be here tonight. Scratching the nape of his neck, Y/N released a pleased sound before making his way to his room to grab stuff for the shower. He moved in the dark, knowing where everything was and not needing to add to the electricity bill. 

The room itself was nice, probably the most grand room in the entire space. Above the bed was a large window that allowed for natural light, constantly illuminating the room. In the soft light of the moon, Y/N navigated his room with practiced movements. The fire in his gut making him stumble sometimes, but nothing serious or even alarming. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes landed on the book on his bedside tables and something else. 

Furrowing his brows, Y/N walked to that part of his room, and his eyes turned hazy momentarily as his fingers brushed over the external processor of the cochlear implants, thumbing them and feeling the cool metal under the pad of his thumb. Fond memories of when he first got his hearing back, if only somewhat, and the way the world burst into noise. 

He chuckled when a memory popped up of him and Jason arguing, and Y/N had taken off the processors and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see or hear Jason’s argument. The fight dissolved into laughter, Jason hugging Y/N and the both of them landing on the carpeted floor. 

They were the external processors he left behind when he left the Wayne manor. Decorated in small stickers that Tim and Dick jokingly put on them, and the small scratches from when Damian had accidentally dropped them. 

The processors he left behind to start this new life figuring out how to cope with silence. 

The processors… he left… behind… 

His E/C eyes widened and he made a quick sprint for the door, dropping his clothes on the floor. He has to go outside where there is open space and where he can hopefully be seen by a local. His family of vigilants excelled in close-combat and combat the needed tight spaces. It wasn't like Gotham had a lot of room to begin with. 

He had to get out of here. Y/N has to leave, or at least give himself a chance. 

When he threw open the door, he almost collided into the broad chest of one of his brothers. His eyes glanced up and he met the crazed and desperate eyes of his twin. The red helmet off of his head and exposing the bags under his eyes. Guilt crushed Y/N’s chest, and he wanted to cup Jason’s cheeks within his hands. He wanted to assure others he was safe, that he was fine, and that he was ready to do this. 

But they would never get it. 

He took a step back instead. Jason followed, and Y/N nearly screamed when he felt the floor creak beneath his feet. 4 other pairs of feet moved, making the wood creak and vibrate under his feet and alerting him that they were all in his home. 

‘Ready to come home?’ Jason signed, and Y/N felt the wood creak. Y/N shook his head, never taking his eyes off of the man in front of him. Jason's facial expression changed.

‘Too bad.’ Y/N dodged a pair of hands that were behind him and barely side-stepped another pair. Jason stood in front of the door, ensuring that Y/N could not leave through it. He remembers just how slippery the other could be, and he was not risking it. 

Y/N raced to the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the tequila bottle, and holding it like a bat. In front of him was his family, Damian, Tim, Dick, Jason, and Bruce. None of them were dressed in their vigilante outfits, and that is because Y/N is not a criminal that needs a suit to fear. He is their brother who needs guidance from his family.

“C’mon Y/N, vacation is over.” Dick said, and Y/N had difficulty reading his lips but he understood it. 

“No.” Dick’s jaw clenched and he could see Tim grab something from his pocket. 

“Y/N. If you wanted to see the whales you could have asked.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and tightened his grip on the bottle, “Put that down, and let's go.” Y/N shook his head, “No. I want to stay here.” Dick’s lips pursed and Damian scowled, “Why? You have no hot water, you can’t cook, there is literally nothing here other than those whales.” Y/N’s face must have made a terribly pained expression because Damian looked like he had been the one to be chastised. 

“I want to learn how to do things on my own.”

“That's so stupid Y/N. Come on.” Y/N shook his head, “No! No, I-I want to stay. I am the only one who get tre-treated like glass. Not even Babs gets treated like me!” Jason glared, “That is different Y/N, and you know it.” 

“How?! She is in a wheelchair, and I am deaf. We are both handicapped, but when she wants to do something you have little complaint but when I want to do something you have an entire novel!” It's not fair. Y/N shouldn’t be mad at Barbara, because it is not her fault. But even he couldn’t stop the feeling of resentment building in his chest when he sees how free Barbara is compared to him. 

Y/N doesn’t hate Barbara. He couldn’t hate her, because she’s his sister just like everyone else were his siblings. But he is frustrated. So undeniably frustrated. He spent an ungodly amount of nights laying awake and staring at his ceiling as he thought about it. Trying to find the reason why he is treated like the slightest gust would send him stumbling. He wanted a valid reason. 

“I am deaf. I am not stupid or-or incapable of taking care of myself!” 

“That is not why we are doing this!” There’s no point in yelling because he couldn’t hear it, but Y/N could see the way their throats flexed and mouths opened wider. Y/N shook his head, “I am not glass! I want to learn how to be inde-independent.” He had to slowly say that last word, but he got it.

“I. Am. Staying.” 

This is exactly why Y/N left. This is why he left the way he did. Why he had too. They don’t get it. They’ll never get it. How could they understand? They have always been able to make their own decisions. They have always been able to do things that Y/N only wishes he could do. They had such a stangle-hold on his life that the slightest hint of wiggle-room, they only tightened their hold even more. It was suffocating and painful.

It was even more painful because Y/N still loves them, and he knows they love him. That this was just a version of their love that was unfortunately, or fortunately for everyone else, reserved for only him. A chain and leash meant for only him. A cage for him. With intricate gold bars that looked beautiful, but still kept him trapped.

He missed Bruce’s signal, but he watched how Damian was the first to move. Y/N isn’t too sure how he dodged Damian, the little gremlin he was, but he also knows that they weren’t going hard on him. He knows they are not treating him like a criminal, but as a brother. Which means, Y/N was somewhat at an advantage. Bruce and Jason had made sure Y/N knew the fundamentals to self-defense and how to use his surroundings. 

His biggest downfall however, was him focusing on Dick and Damian, and forgetting that one of them technically could still intervene. Tim, with whatever he was holding didn’t join the fray and Jason was too busy guarding the door as a just in case. Which is why when a large hand gripped the wrist that was holding the still intact tequila bottle, twisting the joint in a way that had Y/N dropping it, had him crying out in shock. His short fingernails digging into the callused skin of his adopted father, Bruce Wayne. 

The man stared at him with a heated glare and Y/N fought off the urge to shrink under the heavy gaze. However, he threw his weight back, trying to dislodge the grip around his wrist. Bruce used his other arm to immobilize Y/N’s upper body, stopping him from throwing an elbow or scratching his hand. Trapping Y/N’s body and making his already racing heart nearly burst in panic. 

“No! Let go!” Y/N wanted to stay. He has to stay. His foot stomped and he released a cry, and when he looked down he wanted to cry. The tequila bottle had shattered, and Y/N was the only one who was barefoot. He could feel the glass cutting into the skin and the sting of alcohol entering the wound. 

‘Shit!’ He grit his teeth, trying to push aside the pain and get Bruce’s grip off of him. Only, someone was touching his feet now and he didn’t mean to panic but he kicked up. Memories from Crime Alley filled his mind as large hands gripped his ankles, and Bruce’s grip changed to better accommodate someone who was no longer standing. 

His throat closed up and he began gasping as he tried desperately to ground himself. His eyes blown wide and tears now streamed down his face as those hands were replaced with others. The darkness of the bungalow now shifted to the darkness of Crime Alley, and the way the counter and island now looked like the buildings of the Alley way had Y/N screeching. Thrown back into the past with painful shove and memories that clouded his vision. 

“Jason! Jason! Help, help they’re touching me.” Another pair of arms replaced the ones around his arms, and the hands around his ankles let go, but it did nothing. Y/N was effectively back to the past where it was only him and Jason. Those strong arms encircled around him, keeping his own arms pinned and secured, and they began to rock. 

Tapping on his skin and Y/N’s mind began translating it. There was no ASL or Morse Code in Crime Alley, but when Jason and him realized he was going deaf they made their own. One that is unique to them. 

One Y/N still remembers, and so does Jason. 

‘It’s okay. It’s okay, no one is doing anything. It’s just me and the family.’ Y/N shook, and he struggled to catch a breath. There is a hand on his chest, trying to ground him, and he wonders if that hand is the one that is gripping his lungs and making it so hard to breathe. 

‘It’s okay, it’s okay. You are here. You are safe. We’re safe, and we’re going home.’ Before Y/N could process that, there was a sharp prick in his neck, and before he could shout once more a hand covered his mouth, and his body tried to escape the grip. His thrashing only got weaker and weaker as whatever drug was given to him. 

His eyes grew blurry and the last thing he saw was Jason’s face. 

++++

Waking up was hard. His head felt heavy and his limbs couldn’t move. Opening his eyelids seemed impossible, but when he did he groaned. The light was too bright and his limbs too heavy to do anything other than to continue groaning. 

A hand rested on his forehead, and Y/N was too exhausted to try and shake it off. He could hear some shuffling and he furrowed his brows. He took off his external processors a few months ago… 

That night returned to his memory full force and Y/N groaned from the headache. The hand on his forehead moving to massage his temples. 

“Shh, I know. You had a crazy time.” It's been a long time since he heard Bruce’s voice, but it was still deep and gravelly just how he remembers. Y/N turned his head with difficulty, and met those blue eyes that have been staring at him intently. 

Y/N opened his mouth, but closed it. The argument he had with everyone was still fresh in his mind, and he couldn’t help but to continue feeling bitter. Bruce, sensing his son’s thoughts sighed exasperatedly, “Y/N, I admire your drive for wanting to be independent, I really do. But pulling a stunt like that is exactly why we worry.” Y/N scrunched his nose, “You don’t trust me.” 

“That’s not-” 

“It is. If you did trust me you would let me stay out later than nightfall and would be okay with me traveling without a babysitter.” Bruce removed his hand, and stared down at Y/N. His expression is painfully neutral, “Y/N.” 

“You, and no one else in this household, trust me. Then you sit here, listing out everything I do that makes you lose your trust in me, but it’s hard to lose what I never had,” He was voicing his opinion, an opinion that he has had for a while but has never said anything about because he didn’t want to interrupt the balance. 

More importantly, he didn’t want to admit it to himself. They always called him trustworthy, but they never did trust him. He trusted them though. He trusted them with his life, with his secrets, and his insecurities. Then they throw all of that back in his face and expect him to continue making the same mistakes. 

Bruce sighed, as if he was talking to a child that has needed to be told multiple times why they can’t put a fork in a toaster. He met Y/N’s E/C eyes, staring into the irises and seeing the truth behind his words. One of his fingers gently touched one of the external processors, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust other people. This world is awful to people who are different.” Y/N scrunched his nose, and Bruce continued, “You still panic when your ankles are touched.” 

“That’s not fair! That was a stressful situation and you all just made it worse and then-” 

“I know. I know. Dick knows and he is sorry about that, but you stepped on glass.” 

“You made me drop the bottle.” 

“You shouldn’t have been dri-” 

“I’m 23. I’m legal to drink in every country.” 

“Y/N-” 

“I was fine.” Y/N wanted to cry. He had a taste of freedom and then it was taken from him. Forcefully so. 

Bruce stood up, almost knocking the chair back as he did so, and Y/N flinched. He was unable to move still, because whatever drug Tim had given me must have been a muscle relaxant as well. He watched as Bruce schooled his emotions, quickly swallowing them down and then sighed. 

The man leaned down and pressed a kiss into Y/N’s H/C locks. His hand now cupping Y/N’s ear and external processor, “You are grounded until I say otherwise, Y/N. You will stay within these Manor walls until I believe you have learned your lesson.” He ignored Y/N’s face of exhaustion and disappointment. Not at himself, but at Bruce. The man made his way to leave, but before he closed the door, he looked back at his son. His son who had turned away from him and was taking note of the bars over the windows. 

Bruce closed his eyes, feeling his disappointment in the situation and shut the door behind him, making sure to lock it.

_________

THIS WAS SO LONG!!!

#batfam #dc universe #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #yandere batfam #platonic yandere #yandere family #yandere imagines #batfam x reader #platonic #male reader #batfam x male reader #deaf!reader #batfam x deaf reader #yandere dc #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere Jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2 Masterlist

Ghost: Wanted: Ghost x König x Reader [HEAVY SMUT] Oral Support - Ghost x Reader

Ghost w/ a Petite S/O

Ghost w/ an Innocent S/O

The Type of Yandere Ghost is

Yandere Simon "Ghost" Riley Headcanons

Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a Pregnant S/O

Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW Alphabet

Ghost of Christmas Past [Ghost x Reader]

Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

Ghost x Plus Size Reader Headcanons

Platonic Yandere Ghost x Childhood Best Friend Reader

Ghost w/ an S/O who Wears Glasses

Platonic Yandere Ghost x Reader Headcanons

Ghost w/ an S/O who is Self Conscious about Squirting a Lot

Dominant! Ghost Headcanons

Dominant! Ghost Headcanons [Repost]

Thigh Riding w/ Ghost

Ghost, König and You

Seraphim [Ghost x Reader]

The One where Soap finds Himself in an ✨ Awkward ✨Situation. [ Ghost x Reader ]

Ghost's Reaction to his S/O Stealing his Mask

A Family of His Own [Ghost x F! Reader]

Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ his S/O During a Panic Attack

Vampire Simon "Ghost" Riley Headcanons

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Girl

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Boy

Two Ghosts One Stone [Ghost x Reader x Ghost]

Simon "Ghost" Riley w/ a Tall S/O

Zombie! Ghost NSFW Headcanons

König:

Wanted: Ghost x König x Reader [HEAVY SMUT]

König Headcanons

Yandere König Headcanons + Ending

König x Plus Size Reader Headcanons

Dominant König Headcanons

König w/ his S/O during a Panic Attack

König w/ an S/O who Wears Glasses

König w/ a Mommy Kink

König w/ a Daddy Kink

König w/ a Petite S/O

Extra: König w/ a Petite S/O

Submissive König Headcanons

König w/ a Pregnant S/O

Breeding König

Thigh Riding w/ König

König w/ an S/O who is Self Conscious about Squirting a Lot

König w/ a Bratty S/O

Sylvannian Family [König x Reader Headcanons]

Ghost, König and You

Chokehold [König x Reader]

König w/ an Innocent S/O

König's Reaction to His S/O Stealing his Mask

König's Reaction to You Having a Stomach Bulge

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You in a Maid Outfit

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Girl

Ghost & König’s Reaction to You Being a Cat Boy

Wild West Outlaw König

Vampire König Headcanons

Zombie! König NSFW Headcanons

Alejandro:

Yandere Alejandro Headcanons

Price:

Yandere Captain Price Headcanons

Graves

Yandere Phillip Graves Headcanons

All:

MW2 waking up next to their S/O

MW2 w/ an S/O who is Insecure about their Stretch Marks

MW2 and their P0rn Preferences

MW2 Cuddling Headcanons

MW2 Reaction to You Calling Them Submissive and Breedable

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Love Poem from Their S/O

MW2 Reaction to You Having an Only Fans

MW2 Reaction to Their S/O Who Self-Harms

MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin

MW2 Reaction to You Panty-Flashing Them

Zombie! MW2 W/ a Human Sex Slave

Masterpost Subscribe to My AO3 account for more content like this ! Follow me on Wattpad, if you'd like ! Juicy Original Content Yandere Masterpost

#mw2 #mw2 fanfic #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #yandere simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #yandere simon riley x reader #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #soap mactavish #soap x reader #john mactavish #konig smut #simon riley smut #ghost x you #ghost x reader #mw2 ghost x reader #valeria garza #valeria garza x reader #mw2 x you

[demonskiss]

How would the characters react to their darling being a tsundere? Would they accept that, enjoy their darling being so silly and so cute when they get all angry and embarrassed, or would they try to change them and make them express their true feelings?

tsundere darling

emory isn’t quite fond of it to say the least. they prioritize obedience over all else and will not take too kindly for your behavior! they’re the type of person to quickly remedy that behavior, and will take your words at face value until you shape up and admit to them your true feelings. oh, you don’t want cuddles because you think that’s too childish and beneath you? fine, no more cuddles for the rest of your days! you didn’t mean it? well why didn’t you say so earlier? they’ll push you to be more honest with them, whether you like it or not.

blythe thinks you’re just so silly! he always tells you that there’s no need for you to be so distant with them, especially since they’ll practically do anything for you! he feigns ignorance when you get a bit mean with him, but it all goes away when you huff and quietly mutter an apology. he doesn’t care much about changing how you behave towards him, if he didn’t love you as he did now, what kind of boyfriend would he be? a bad one that’s for sure! they’ll never get tired of this behavior, so rest assured that they’ll just laugh it off.

violetta is genuinely confused and doesn’t take it well. as someone who wears her heart on her sleeve, she doesn’t understand why you would act as if you don’t want the praises and compliments she gives to you! she’ll corner you after classes are over in her studio, crossing her arms and pouting, all the while interrogating you about your behavior! she might even tear up a bit too, asking you if you really hate her this much to where you can’t even be direct with her! you might have to change your behavior… if you don’t want her heart to break.

ambrose is unsure where this whole… attitude is coming from. but rather than solving the issue with malicious compliance, he simply heeds your words without any complaint. he genuinely isn’t aware of your behavior and how it’s a ruse, instead thinking that you’re just weird. you’re weirder than all of the previous owners he had living in his house. the day that he realizes that it’s an act, his shoulders slump, muttering an apology with a sheepish smile. he wishes that you’d be more direct with him.

#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ starry scribe ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ moonlight mirage ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the false surgeon ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the pen pal ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁�� the devoted artist ✧ #⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ the forgotten ghost ✧ #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere oc #oc x reader #oc x self insert #yandere ghost #platonic yandere #yandere writing #male yandere #male yandere x you #male yandere x reader #female yandere x reader #ghost yandere #nonbinary yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere bf

[ghost-pipes]

#ghosts edit #haunted #laura les #bitching #vent #jirai kei #vent blog #menhera #purple #yanblr #yancore #jiraiblr #landmineblr #landmine kei #mental illness #lyrics #platonic yandere #yandere #plandere

[sleepydeprived]

A Chance for Redemption

—A mysterious high school student appears out of the blue, bearing the face of the late Martha Wayne and puzzling even Gotham’s greatest detectives.

[chapter 1]

| Platonic!Yandere!Batfam x Reader

| Inspired by the work of @e-nonsense “GHOST OF A LONG GONE WOMAN”

The Gotham City skyline stretched across the horizon, its towering structures standing as silent guardians in the night. Inside the dimly lit study of Wayne Manor, Bruce Wayne sat alone amidst shadows that mirrored the complexities of his own mind.

A sudden beep from the Batcomputer broke the stillness. Bruce glanced at the screen, and his piercing gaze narrowed at the news report flashing across the monitor. The headline sent a ripple through him.

"Wayne Heiress Emerges: Striking Resemblance to Late Martha Wayne. Who is she?"

His heartbeat quickened as images of the young girl filled the screen. The uncanny resemblance to his late mother, Martha, struck him like a blow. The gentle curve of her smile, the warmth in her eyes — it was as if a much younger version of Martha had been reborn in a face he had never known.

For a moment, the air in the study thickened with silence. Bruce's jaw tightened, and a flood of memories surged, carrying him back to the night of his parents' tragedy. He saw Martha's face, radiant and full of life, before the darkness took her away. Now, that same face stared back at him from the screen.

"What is this?" Bruce muttered to himself, his fingers tapping impatiently on the polished surface of the mahogany desk.

With a decisive gesture, he rose from his seat and moved toward the Batcave. Alfred, his ever-watchful confidant, observed the turmoil in Bruce's eyes.

"Master Wayne, might I inquire about the cause of your distress?" Alfred's calm voice cut through the tension.

Bruce handed Alfred a tablet displaying the news report. As Alfred scanned the images, the lines on his forehead deepened in concern.

"An unexpected development, sir. Shall I investigate further?" Alfred offered, his loyalty unwavering.

"No, Alfred. I'll handle this myself,"

In the heart of the Batcave, surrounded by the symbols of his dual life, Bruce Wayne accessed the Batcomputer with purpose, initiating a search that would unravel the truth behind the possible Wayne heiress.

As information unfolded on the screen, Bruce's stoic demeanor flickered with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The mystery of his potential blood-related daughter, bearing the face of his beloved mother, demanded answers that eluded even the World's Greatest Detective.

In the shadows of Wayne Manor, a silent storm brewed. All veiled behind the haunting gaze of a daughter who bore the visage of a long-lost woman.

#yandere batfam #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #nightwing #red hood #yandere #platonic batfam #platonic #batfam x reader #platonic yandere #x reader #x fem!reader #batsis #batfam x batsis #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x reader #bruce wayne x reader #x you #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere bruce wayne

[diejager]

price is already like unofficial dad of 141

-so what would platonic! biological, yan! dad price be like

[i pass a cup of hot cocoa and bag of gold to you]

I’ll take that hot cocoa and bag of gold!

Yandere!Dad!Price

Headcanon

Cw: yandere, platonic relationship, protective!Price, stalking, camera surveillance, tracking, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 758

Yan!Dad!Price, as a father-figure to 141, is already burdened with the weight of their safety and protection. He protects them as if they were his own, signing away Soap’s misdemeanour and pranks, Gaz’s mischievous personality under the gentle gaze of his, and Ghost’s stand-offish character with war crimes under his belt. Price is fiercely protective of his charge, so he’d be worse with his biological child. 

Yan!Dad!Price is possessive, branding you - in his mind - as his, making sure that you’re safe at all times. He’s borderline paranoid at times, his mind going through every enemy he’s made in the past without prejudice, everyone is a danger to his livelihood, meaning you. As a father, he’s much more protective, always worried and conscious of the danger he puts on you when he leaves.

Yan!Dad!Price worries that one day, someone would find you and use you as leverage against him, torture you and throw you back out as revenge for what he’s done to them, or - the worse - keep you for the sake of causing him pain and anguish. As your father, he’s much, much more paranoid than he is with anyone else on his team, especially since your mother’s been missing from your life for a while now, leaving him to care for you and occasionally leaving you at Kate and her wife’s house.

Yan!Dad!Price isn’t scared of getting his hand dirty, he already does it to further the goals and images of powerful men, political figures and to keep the world clean from monsters by becoming one himself. He knows his hands are stained red, an invincible mark following him until he’s either killed, or dies of natural causes —he hopes for the latter. He might not kill innocent people, but he isn’t scared of threatening them, using his power and resources to keep them away from you. 

Yan!Dad!Price might be protective, wanting to keep you to himself and locked away from the harsh and dangerous world, but he’s smart and cares enough about you to let you have your freedom. He lets you go out with friends - you’re an adult, you should have the independence and freedom to do some - and travel, but he gives you a curfew and demands he wants you to keep. So far, you’ve followed them and he trusts you to keep doing so. Although he lets you live your life as a young adult: working, going out, meeting friends and enjoying yourself, he keeps an eye on you, he has a tracker installed into your phone and one on you at all times, he has someone watch you through the cameras to follow your every step and report it to him if there’s a sudden change.

Another thing Yan!Dad!Price has, as insurance to your safety, the three boys protecting you. They’re well acquainted with you, often seeing you wandering the base outside of Birmingham with a visitor’s badge and permission to wander wherever you want. You’re as much a part of the TF as the boys, the honorary member that visits them every so often to see how they’re doing when they’re stationed here. Being a year or two younger than Gaz made them feel like you were the baby of the family, the little sibling that they had to protect and care for whenever they could.

Yan!Dad!Price somehow makes it unnoticeable to you that he has a tracker on you or that he has a system to monitor your every action, you even get regular visits from Kate and the boys, coming over to his house. Soap and Ghost always went together, Ghost’s big and broad figure acting as a deterrent to any malicious people and Gaz would go with him, following him back to stay the night. The house had enough room for everyone too, one guest room in the basement, one on the ground floor and another one near the stairs on the second floor. 

Yan!Dad!Price is careful, selective with people he lets around you, all for the sake of protecting you. He won;t let you wander too far from him, he won’t let you go where he won’t be able to reach, where he won’t be able to find you. You’re an indispensable part of his life, the joy of his life, the light that brought a smile to his lips after a rough day or mission. You took care of him so he watched over you and kept you safe.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #yandere x reader #yandere price #yandere mw2 x reader #yandere mw2 #price modern warfare #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #price x you #dad!price #platonic yandere #platonic love #john x reader