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I hate telling people I like creepypasta because if they're not into it that way they're like oh like fartenpoopen 42 experiment (1985) and I'm like no I like it when they live together in a mansion and they kiss probably

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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

Where did you find bootleg jay

if im being honest i have no idea.My sister went on the wrong website and got me the bootleg jay for my birthday.I think its one of a kind at this point LMFAO

I am the original owner of the bootleg Jay plush here’s the long awaited sequel

He deserves this

troy have you seen the bootleg jay oh my god

(img creds @@alt_alyssa98973 on twt)

Holy shit

nurse Ann !!

*slaps this onto the counter like bitchy waitress*

my first art revenge !!

oc belongs to ILUVHELL0KITTY

#things to read again

YOU DO UNDERTALE ??! how am i just figuring this out . donno if you doing request still but if you are can i get a yandere sans with an escaped darling ? tysm !!

Sure! I was genuinely surprised I didn't get a Sans request until now, honestly. Did a concept as it was not specified and I need to learn how to write him. The only Sans I've written was a long time ago and was Dust-tale.

Yandere! Sans with Escaping! Darling

Short Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere like behavior, Implied kidnapping, Manipulation, Forced one-sided relationship, Deception, Sense of hopelessness (?), Isolation.

- In the first place, Sans is a deceptively hard Yandere to escape.

- While Sans appears to be lazy all the time, that doesn't mean he isn't capable of keeping you in check.

- The skeleton always seems to know where you are...

- Able to counter you and reprimand you easily if you go against his wishes.

- "where you going, kid? this is a little far from home, ain't it?"

- You're always kept under his watchful eye even if you don't want to be.

- Privacy is almost limited, but he isn't a pervert.

- If you managed to escape from Sans, it's only because he let you.

- At any time he could appear out of nowhere to redirect you.

- So the fact that you have a taste of freedom is because Sans allowed it.

- Not because you escaped and he'll be gone for good.

- As once Sans feels you've had enough, or are about to tell others about your predicament, he reappears to send you back to your new home in Snowdin.

- "nice outing, huh? really wish you told me you were going out. then we could go out together for once."

- When you're brought back he isn't going to punish you unless you're violent or it's frequent.

- You'll be sent back to your assigned room after the whole thing is over.

- All with a smug Sans grinning at you with that neverending smile.

- Your fate is sealed when it comes to him.

- You have no favorable choice when he is the one to obsess over you.

- "let's not make this a repetitive event, okay?"

Yandere Venom (1/2)

Word count ; 4.0k

Using gn pronouns for this one, per the request anon.

*Dedicated to @animefan3223! I love you and hope you feel better soon :)

“I hope you don’t mind,” the rather frail, dorky man commented, sliding himself onto the benchpress. “I’m just a little out of shape after being stuck in the hospital for so long, so…”

I sent him a reassuring grin. “Not at all. I’ll be right here to spot you until you get the hang of it, sir.”

I stretched my arms, examining closely as the gym member clasped his arms around the bar and pushed it. His face contorted with exhaustion and I was about to recommend something lighter, but he seemed so determined. I wanted to make further inquiries about his injuries, but I’d at least wait until he was taking a breather. This local gym was known for having friendly clientele, and I was hoping I was part of that spectrum.

He lifted the bar to his chest. My hands were ready to help him out when needed, but he managed to do one rep with ease. Then two. Then three. I was starting to wonder if he even needed a spotter —

“Oh, uh, Y/n, hey. Didn’t think I’d see you around.”

I gasped and looked up. I recognized the voice instantly, coming face to face with Eddie Brock - my ex-fiancé. I resisted a sigh, because either he came here on purpose or he genuinely never learned where I worked in the two years we were together. It was all in the past, though, and I strained a polite smile.

“Uh, hey, Ed. Do you need something?”

The client placed the bar back on, grinning. Even though his face was red and the glasses slid down his nose, he looked fairly refreshed. He stretched his arms, glancing between the two of us. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but was my form alright?”

I sent him a smile. “Perfect, actually. It’s like you’ve been at it for years without stopping.”

“I guess I can add a couple extra pounds on, then.”

“Great. Good job, buddy,” Eddie interrupted again. “So, Y/n, about that. I just, uh, wanted to catch up now that I know you work here, so —“

“Not right now, Ed. I’m on the job. You got that, sir?”

“It’s just Neil.”

“Right. Neil. You’re dong a great job so far.”

Eddie was still hovering awkwardly, and it took every fibre of my being not to snap at him. I directed a not-so-subtle glare his direction, and the man teetered his balance between his feet. He adorned a tank top and cargo shorts, but from the state of his physique, he wasn’t as in shape as he used to be when we were engaged a few years ago.

He noticed my eyes boring into him and sent an abashed smile. I went to scowl, but suddenly, the client’s arm gave out and he yelped. A curse escaped my lips as my hands ducked underneath the bar just in time, catching it with ease. Neil panted and I helped raise it back onto the shelving.

“Shit…!” he muttered, sitting up straight and gripping at his right arm. “It gave out.”

“No worries. I should’ve been paying more attention,” I mumbled in reassurance. “Eddie, if you need something, just talk to me later. Go do your own thing. Please?”

The man gulped and nodded. He was sweating profusely, forcing a grin. “U - uh, I mean, yeah. Sure thing. Sorry about that, Y/n.”

I rolled my eyes, watching as he stalked over to a treadmill. My attention returned to Neil, who’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. I mustered a friendly grin and patted his back energetically. “You still got it. Maybe just take it easy. Do some stretches or cardio.”

“Do you have any recommendations for that?”

“I think there’s a yoga class going on right in the other room, actually,” I mused. “If you’re interested, go ahead and drop by for a free session. After that, you’ll have to pay additional fees.”

“Ah - thank you. I’ll do that. Have a nice day.”

“You too.”

After the man grabbed his water bottle and headed in the general direction of the class, I sighed in pure irritation. It had been a while since I stumbled across Eddie Brock. His life had certainly taken an adventurous turn when he ended up with some alien pet attached to his hip, and although he previously texted often before that, he’d gone radio silent up until now.

Edie Brock always managed to get on my nerves before and he certainly was now.

I surveyed the gym, but my gaze returned to Eddie. He’d broken a sweat already, and I was somewhat caught off guard when inky black slime appeared from his shoulder and formed a floating head. It attracted other nearby gym users as well, and rightfully so. At the perfect angle, I could see the monster’s wide smile and I could hear a distant - but deep - voice, completely different from Eddie’s.

I crossed my arms in intrigue, leaning against one of the many pillars in the vast complex. Eddie, clearly agitated about whatever the alien was talking about, began swatting. The head dodged each time, and a rumbling laughter echoed in the gym. Many people glared in annoyance, but Eddie was too caught up with the agitating alien to notice.

The head peered in my direction. We made brief eye contact, but I took in the odd features. I’d seen footage online of the entire creature, but witnessing it in person was far more different. It had a tooth grin that spread to inhumane lengths and glowing, yellow eyes. It was fairly smooth, except for the imitating sweat that rolled down the sides of its head like a waterfall.

Eddie’s footing was lost in a split second, and the alien seemed to allow it to happen, hovering in place as the man tripped and fell face-flat on the machine. Out of habit, I stood straight, about to walk over. However, ink spilled from his body and he got up with ease, still complaining loudly. I blinked in confusion, and both the alien and his human friend peered over at me.

Horror dawned Eddie’s expression as he turned away. Out of frustration and embarrassment, he turned the machine off completely and headed off to god knows where. I sighed in relief, glad that my rather obsessive ex was shamed out of the gym by his alien friend and would hopefully not bother me again anytime soon.

~~~

Tate <3 : shift’s over soon, right?

Me : yeah, just heading out. see u soon, babe.

Me : also, today was super stressful. I’ll tell u about it when I get home, kay?

I was about to send the message, squinting my eyes as I exited the gym, but I suddenly bumped into someone. I gasped, the phone slipping from my grasp and colliding with the ground. I was about to apologize profusely, not expecting someone to enter the gym right before closing time.

“I’m sorry —“

“No, no, I am —“

I peered up, and in the street lamps and car headlights, I recognized him instantly. Eddie Brock, seemingly a lot less tense, was standing before me with a panicked and awkward expression. A scowl immediately tugged against my lips and I leaned down to pick up my phone.

The man had the same idea, crouching and reaching. Our hands overlapped with one another as he apologized several times, but I was quick to swat at him. He still fumbled with his words as I snatched up my phone and stood up straight.

I glanced over my phone. Great. A few extra cracks coated the surface. Thanks, Eddie.

“I - I didn’t mean to run into you like that, Y/n —“

“What do you want, Eddie?” I snapped, shoving my phone into my pocket. “I’m busy. Whatever it is, can you just text me if it’s that goddamn important?”

Eddie froze in place, eyes wide and embarrassed. Even in the darkness, I could see how flustered he was, a deep blush coating his cheeks. There was scraggly hair across his jaw, just enough to indicate that he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning. He was wearing casual clothes, too, jeans and a teeshirt. He shoved his hands into his pocket, shuffling his foot against the cement.

“You, uh, blocked me, so…”

I rolled my eyes, about to take out my phone to unblock. However, his arm shot out and I paused, sending him a warning glare. He gulped anxiously before withdrawing his hand. I watched him warily.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Um… I’m sorry for, uh, getting on your nerves earlier,” he started, voice wavering nervously. “I was just… wondering how you were doing recently. I didn’t really have a way to keep in touch, so…”

I quirked a brow and crossed my arms. “Why does my livelihood concern you, Eddie? It’s been, fucking, two years now at least.”

“Actually,” he corrected,” Two years and seven months. And three days, but, uh, who keeps count of something like that? I sure don’t. It’s just, uh, we’re friends, aren’t we? I mean, just because all that happened… Well, I, uh, care abut you, Y/n.”

“I can tell, Eddie,” I sighed rubbing my forehead in irritation. “Of course you kept count. Listen, Eddie, you really need to let go —“

“I just think we ended things on the wrong foot, is all —“

“Life moves on, pal —“

“What we had was something really special —“

“Just fucking shut up, Eddie!” I barked. The man fell silent, and I could tell how unhappy he was about how everything was going. “Can’t you take a hint? We’re not lovers, we’re not friends, and you’re literally a fucking stranger to me. Get that into your thick skull.”

Silence fell between us. I was fuming while Eddie’s shoulders slumped in depressive defeat. He could no longer make eye contact with me, and from how his eyes twitched, I could tell there was some sort of inner debate going on.

And then, he caved, turning his head away completely. “…Can I at least, uh, know if you’re doing alright?”

I exhaled out of sheer relief. I felt the stress wash off me as my thoughts returned to Tate. I held up my left hand, shaking it vigorously. He looked, and his entire body tensed. Because sitting on my ring finger was a ring. I almost felt bad for the guy. He was trying and he was trying hard.

“Listen, Ed, if you wanted to ‘catch up,’ you should’ve done it years ago. It’s over. I moved on. And I’m sorry for being harsh, but you really should, too.” I yielded no response, even when I lowered my hand. His age chased it, and he was clearly in a state of shock. “Have a good night.”

I started walking away, shoving my hands into my pocket in the direction of my nearby apartment. 

“Fuck! Venom, don’t!”

I turned around, curious as to what was going on, but the moment I did, something black and inky stretched from Eddie’s body like a slinky and grasped onto my upper arm. Immediately, a shriek escaped, and it was clear from Eddie’s expression that the alien was attempting to take over but was being rivaled by Eddie.

I struggled at it, but the inky substance just read over my shoulder and tugged me closer like a game of tug of war. My sneakers were squeaking against the cement and I squirmed. Eddie was doing the same, swatting at the stretched out slime. It was oddly flesh-like, as even when I poked and prodded at it, it only seemed to solidify further.

A scream threatened to escape, but I knew that because of Venom’s reputation as a hero, nobody would intervene. I would be made out to be a villain. I kept sliding across the cement until my legs caved out completely and I fell to the ground.

“Venom, stop! Or I swear to god —“

“Or you swear to god what, Eddie?” a deep voice boomed audibly, the same head from earlier seeping from his backbone. “You’ll let them get away again? Just like before?”

“Please!” I pleaded. “D - don’t hurt me. I ha - haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You’re scaring them, dude! Just let her go!”

The head exchanged glances between us. A few tears had escaped and I managed to scrape my bare elbow against the ground. The beast was still grinning, and yet, as it stared me down, it changed to a shut-mouthed frown. It sighed lowly and dissolved back into Eddie’s flesh and blood. 

I scrambled to my feet, a few sobs escaping. Eddie looked just as broken, motioning wildly. He was at a lost for words as he reached toward me. I turned, starting to walk away.

“Y/n, I - I’m sorry! That just means he likes you, I swear!”

I sent him a scowl, not stopping. “Tell him that the feeling’s not mutual.”

~~~

Eddie had never been so heartbroken and defeated, even during the weeks passing the break-up. He remembered it like yesterday; one moment, happy as can be, and the next, they’d packed their stuff up unannounced and called him a selfish deadbeat. It hurt like hell. 

But, what was even worse, was that now his alien compadre had messed up any chance he had. ‘Stop moping around and grow some balls,’ he said. ‘Just talk to them,’ he said. ‘Don’t let them go,’ he said. And now, they was walking away, thinking even more lowly of him than ever.

“Hey man, the fuck was that about?” he boomed desperately, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Y/n was far enough away that yelling hardly concerned them, and yet, he couldn’t stop watching them. “How could you just do that? What, did you think you could scare them into submission or something?”

“Well…” Venom’s voice grumbled in slight embarrassment from inside Eddie’s mind.

“Well?” he snapped.

“Well, yes, actually.”

Eddie facepalmed instantly. “Jesus Christ. This whole thing is fucked. Never should’ve visited in the first place. I mean, they’re literally engaged!”

Venom went silent, detecting how peeved Eddie was. Sure, the symbiote cared. He cared just as much as Eddie did, if not more so. Because, for him, they were one of the same. Same body, same mind, she feelings. Venom just wasn’t a coward who watched the love of his life from a distance instead of actually doing something about his lingering feelings.

“There’s still something we can do,” Venom spoke carefully.

“What, man? What can we still do?”

“We need to follow. The fiancé of their’s… is a problem.”

Before Eddie could say or do anything, Venom took control. His ink spilled from his pores and covered every inch of his body. Only half of Eddie’s visage was visible due to Venom’s kindness, but other than that, he’d completely transformed into a bulky and strong alien shape.

Venom let out a low, rumbling chuckle. Some people had their heads hanging out of their car windows, taking photos with flash. They gleamed against Venom’s skin, but the monster paid it no heed. Eddie was still reeling from the heartbreak that, honestly, he didn’t care if Venom fucked things up even more. He was a goner the moment he set foot in the gym.

He was a goner the moment he let Y/n walk out that door all those years ago.

Venom suddenly outstretched his hand. He dived into an alleyway at top speed, using his inhuman strength to grasp onto the side of a building. As well-put-together and confident Venom feigned himself to be, he was just as concerned. Concerned that, for the sake of his and Eddie’s happiness, he’d have to do something a bit more drastic.

He bounded across the rooftops, oddly quiet. And then, as Y/n was spotted down below, shivering from the cold, he stopped. Eddie gulped, already knowing where this was going. It had been a while since Eddie trailed after them. In fact, he only stopped once Venom came into his life a few months ago. And, somehow, Eddie failed to realize the love of his life had gotten engaged amidst all of the city chaos.

Y/n turned the corner, peering over their shoulder. It was clear who they were looking for; Venom. But, much to their joy, of course they couldn’t see him. Venom was right above them, clinging to one of the sky scrapers. For someone so on edge, it was odd that they didn’t notice the pictures people were taking of the buildings above Y/n.

They kept walking. And then, a flew blocks down, they disappeared into a new and unfamiliar apartment complex. It was far larger than anything Eddie and Y/n had in the past. As Venom climbed up the various windows, they realized Y/n was living penthouse style. But, on the plus side of them dating someone far more endowed, rich penthouses were very open and spacious. So, that meant that, depending on what floor they were looking at, they could easily locate Y/n and the dreaded fiancé and see what the hell they were on about.

“This isn’t stalking, is it?” Eddie inquired carefully in a hushed voice, despite being very high off the ground where nobody could hear them. “I mean, we’re allowed to do this, right?”

“Eddie. This is stalking.”

Some fo the various penthouse owners noticed the odd alien creature climbing up the side of the building. Others didn’t, simply ignoring the odd shadow that passed over their apartment. And, as they climbed to about the tenth or eleventh floor, they noticed a woman sitting on a couch watching television while the front door opened.

“Shit!” Eddie cursed, but Venom was on top of it. He slid down the glass just below, peering the large head right through the large panes of glass. Y/n hadn’t noticed at all. The room was too dimly lit. Instead, they were kicking off their shoes.

Venom was an alien. And that meant his hearing was far superior to the average human’s.

“I’m back, babe!” Y/n called.

The fiancé had been snoring, only a poof of curly, blonde hair draped over the back of the couch. She suddenly sat up, a snore being cut short. Y/n laughed, apologizing at the same time, but the fiancé rose to meet their lover with a warm hug.

Y/n reciprocated, nuzzling into their significant other. As the hug ended, the fiancé placed a chaste kiss on Y/n’s cheeks. Eddie knew he didn’t have the right to, but his insides burned with jealousy. And, with Venom feeling everything he felt, the emotion was only turned up tenfold.

“God, what happened to you?” the fiancé fretted. “You’re all scratched up!”

Only as the couple gained some distance between each other did Eddie and Venom truly take in the fiancé’s appearance. She was pretty. Too pretty. She had golden hair that had natural curls and was a fairly petite woman. Y/n was far taller. She was dressed in her pajamas, consisting of a tank top and underwear. She was fairly cushy and fluffy with lots of curves, and it was no wonder Y/n fell for her. Especially if she was that… caring all the time.

Y/n sighed and shook their head. “Yeah. Today was total shit. My ex showed up at work to harass me. He left, but then as I was leaving, he showed up again! And this is the really obsessive and annoying one. Eddie Brock. The one that literally saved planet earth and all that because he’s half alien now. You’d think he’d move on to greener pastures, but nope.”

“You’re kidding! The alien did that to you?”

“Yeah. I would’ve thought it was pretty cool and exotic if I wasn’t scared shitless.”

The fiancé sighed and shook her head. She led Y/n by the arm over to the couch. Instead of letting the mood be ruined by Eddie’s ‘annoying’ existence - it physically hurt the man to hear that -, she pulled Y/n on top of her and unpaused the movie on the screen. It was in the middle of some chick flick, but Y/n didn’t voice any complaints.

Even though Eddie knew they hated chick flicks with a passion.

It stung and it stung a lot to see the human Venom adored with all of his slash Eddie’s being be so intimate with another person. And yet, as irrational as Venom was for an alien, he could read Eddie’s thoughts. And, for the first time, as the couple engaged in something far more rated R, he felt discouraged.

But then, it was a lightbulb went off in his head. 

“Eddie,” he grumbled suddenly. “I have an idea.”

Eddie piped up immediately, replying,” Wh - what?”

“We’ll do it tomorrow.”

~~~

I pulled up to my future wife’s workplace. As I parked the car and stepped outside, though, horror immediately dawned on me. The bottom-right side of the hospital was lit ablaze, and the entire parking lot was being filled by various doctors, patients, and visitors alike. Screams echoed in the air and I was left frozen in shock. My eyes scanned the entrance, praying that Tate would exit. The woman had to. But I knew that her kindness knew no bounds, and she’d end up prioritizing her patients.

The police and fire department had surely been alerted by now. I shoved my phone into my back pocket, the donuts I’d brought for Tate as a surprise long since forgotten. They’d probably melt in the car, but I couldn’t care less. I began walking through the severely crowded parking lot, and as I made my way through the bulk of the crowd, I paused in the entrance.

“Tate?” I called, although it was easily drowned out by everyone else’s screams and cries of terror. “Tate, where are you?”

I was shoved to the ground. The people were beginning to disperse, some complete with the hospital bed itself. Some with IV bags. And same in wheelchairs. Panic washed over me as I could see clearly into the entrance. Tate wasn’t in sight, and that scared the shit out of me. After such a difficult existence, I dreaded the thought of losing the one person I adored to a fucking fire.

I rose to my feet, planning to head inside. I took but one step, and then relief washed over me. 

Tate emerged from around a corner, hauling dozens of kids with her. They must’ve been from the chemo-therapy ward because most had lost their hair or were in wheelchairs. Tears sprung to my eyes and I beckoned for her. She was panting, and yet, there wasn’t a trace of fear on her expression. She was far too focused on getting the kids out, accompanied by several other doctors and nurses.

“Y/n!” she called, a smile spreading to her cheeks. “Help me with the kids!”

I did so, entering and pushing two of the wheelchairs further. Once everyone was safely in the parking lot, I realized that reinforcements - other than ambulances - had yet to arrive. They were sounding in the distance, but somehow, the fucking news reporters beat the people who’s lives depended on them.

The moment Tate set down the loast child, ushering them to ambulances, I enveloped her in a warm hug. She reciprocated, cooing softly. “Why… are you here?” she inquired, although gratefulness laced her tone.

“I - I was dropping off a snack for you,” I gushed, before separating to look her over. “God, are you okay? Did you get burned at all —?”

“I’m fine, Y/n,” she giggled. “I just had to help in any way I could. It’s my job.”

I scrunched up my nose and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Fuck. I was scared I could’ve lost you.”

Suddenly, a crash came from the building. Gasps erupted across the parking lot. Some cheers escaped others, and that’s when Tate and I saw him. Crashing into the building was Venom himself, here to save the day and serve his 'fellow’ man.

Terrible how these will never ever ever be finished.

remember that rock au?

Girls and things and whatnots

uh …hello hello ?☎️📞

just a wip for some ticciwork art

Dunno if I have the motivation to finish todays a bad day 💔

The cuties

i did a bunch of boards for the main mansionfreaks cast as reference on personal styles. in order, nina, jane, jeff, kate, arcane, ej, dina, clockwork, BEN, sally, toby, cody. ill do a part 2 later when we get some other characters sorted out :]