Imagine A Hybrid Reader That Turns Into Something Cute And Cuddly Looking But Is Actually A Dangerous

Imagine a hybrid reader that turns into something cute and cuddly looking but is actually a dangerous animal, like a panda or something lol

Pandas are dangerous………??

Just a quick question; does the batfamily like reader the same in their human form or just in the cat form?

Wonderful question, anon! I have mentioned it briefly in this ask before, but I’ll dive deeper into it for you.

All the boys harbour their own opinions regarding your two appearances.

To Dick, you remain his sweet and adorable little sibling, whether you're in your human form or your animal form. Your identity as his kitten stays constant, regardless of which body you inhabit.

For the eldest brother, your age, size, or form doesn't change his perception of you one bit. Regardless of the fact that you’re a grown ass adult, he'd still continue to baby talk and coo at you when you have a big sneeze or get food on your cheek. In his mind, you’re fundamentally a cat first and foremost, and your human qualities are secondary. He couldn’t care less about your human appearance, because he would always view you as his precious little kitten, his adorable and cherished younger sibling. Even when you're in human form, he’d still treat you as if you were a cat, completely disregarding your human aspect.

Bruce, however, has a vastly different opinion. In his eyes, you’re the perfect blend of both worlds. The feline body language and characteristics you exhibit are utterly endearing, no doubt, but your true essence rests in your human mind and soul, which is the fundamental part of you. He recognises the importance of both your animal and human forms, as they are both integral parts of who you really are. While your cat instincts may be captivating, it is your human mind that holds the most significance. He wouldn’t treat you like a mere pet, recognising the balance between your two forms. You were still his child, and that will always come first.

Ultimately, Bruce doesn't really care what body you take on, as long as you're spending time with him. When you're out in public, you're required to transform into your cat self, as to not cause any unnecessary suspicions or complications regarding your disappearance. But when you're both just chilling at home in the manor, he doesn't mind whether you're in one form or the other, as long as you're there with him. He won't push you to engage in conversations or force you to do anything you don't want to do, as long as you're just present by his side, he's content.

In stark contrast to the others, Jason has a strikingly distinct preference for your feline form, showing a notable lack of interest in you when you appear in human form. He tends to completely disregard your presence when you're in your human body, only offering you affection and attention exclusively when you're in your kitten body.

To Damian, your animal form holds a special place in his heart, a place he refuses to share with anyone else. It’s not that he dislikes your human form, far from it. But when he looks at you as an animal, all he can see is an innocent, untainted little creature that needs protecting. A creature that relies solely on him for safety and comfort. And that’s a feeling that he can’t help but relish in. Your cat form evokes a protective instinct in him that he rarely feels when you’re in your human form. But also, saying that, he does enjoy being able to talk to you, as you’re the only person that he trusts to never leave, to never feel disappointed. Because to you, he’s the only one on your side. He relishes in the fact that no matter which form your take on that you rely on him. That you need him.

Slightly out of sync with the others, Tim shows a marginal preference for your human form. He’s the only one who tends to pay more attention to you when you’re in your human body, but the margin is admittedly slim.

Tim enjoys being able to read you, relishing in his ability to decipher your emotions and engage in conversation with you when he needs a diversion from all the work. On that note, it's primarily about the control. He finds pleasure in being able to make you shift from one form to the other, keeping you drugged and pliant in his lap as a cat or asleep in human form on the couch next to him while he works.

Link to Chapter One, Link to Masterlist.

"the manors comedically oversized enclosure,"

fun fact: the biggest goldfish was caught in a French fishery at 60+ pounds and was nicknamed "The Carrot".

the manors large enclosure let's goldfish!reader grow big, and both human and animal form reflect that.

Goldfish!reader before batfam kidnapping adopting: tiny

Goldfish!reader after: LARGE

Whoa. Woah.

Looks like Bruce won’t be having a problem with you after all💚

Naw seriously though, scrap the big enclosure then, you just get loads of tiny ones scattered around the manor and installed into the walls.🦖🦖

That’s my b, I should’ve read up about them more before posting😔

Link to Goldfish Reader post

Teensy weeny lil tiny small wee baby itsy bitsy confession under the cut.

I’ve been picturing kitten reader as a munchkin cat this whole time, do with that what you will🦖🦖

Munchkin

HELLO 'm merely asking if YSAOK will ever see the light again 🙏🏻🙏🏻

I’m writing the next chapter rn🦖🦖

I might give up on Shallow, however. I’ve written SO MUCH but just don’t know how to continue it so idk if I can post it. Lots of time wasted if I just trash it though😔

Although, I’m making chapter ten now. So no worries, pookie💚

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

2048 words, 11528 characters, 130 sentences, 69 paragraphs, 8.4 pages.

With the absence of light and the sudden onslaught of heavy rain, you realise you've stayed out here for a dangerously long time.

You turn around to meet Dick’s gaze, the man standing tall, holding you up an umbrella, wearing a soft grin. His bag, stuffed with clothing and trinkets that miraculously fit your size perfectly that were conveniently "free" from the fair, slung over his shoulder.

"Tired already, little one?" Dick queries, a hint of amusement in his deep voice as he extends his hand out towards you.

"You're going to catch a cold, you know," he noted with a tone of care in his voice. "We should go back before you get sick."

You let out a sigh, taking hold of his hand with a begrudging smile. "I am not tired, thank you very much," you retort, feigning irritation despite the exhaustion evident in your eyes.

With the grip of your hand, he gently pulls you close to him, sheltering you from the relentless rain. His eyes softened at your display of weariness, though he had a feeling you were just being stubborn.

"You don't have to deny it, you know. You look beat."

He chuckled lightly, wrapping his free arm around your waist, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he guided you along.

“You really should take better care of yourself,” he added, his tone slightly concerned. “Can't have my little bird falling sick on me.”

You raise an eyebrow at the nickname but opt not to mention it, well aware that his concern is the driving force behind the choice of words.

The soft pattering of rain filled the silence as you walked. The rain and chill caused you to press closer to him. He found himself drawing you further into him almost subconsciously — seeking to protect you from the elements and the cold, as though the closer you were, the more shielded you’d be from harm.

"You’re freezing," he noted, feeling the coolness of your skin against his, frowning upon the slight tremble he felt.

“It’s raining.” You reply blankly, snickering softly.

He chuckled at your blasé response. "Ever the master of observation," he retorted, rolling his eyes in feigned annoyance.

"You're also wearing a thin sweater in an icy downpour," he added, glancing down at your attire. "You're practically asking to get sick with that combination."

You raised a brow, nudging against his side. “If I remember correctly, you were the one who chose this sweater.”

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "And I stand by my choice," he said, his voice dripping with teasing confidence.

"It looked cute," he explained with a slight shrug, a sly grin tugging at his lips. "The cute factor outweighs the obvious risk of hypothermia."

You shoot him an unimpressed glare. “Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, prick. I’m dying.”

He feigned surprise, hand resting over his heart in mock offence.

"Flattery? Who said anything about flattery?" he retorted, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "I merely stated a fact. That sweater is adorable."

He chuckled but his tone took a more serious turn, a hint of concern seeping in. "And you're hardly dying.. You're just a bit cold. You'll be fine."

Despite his casual tone, you could tell he was worried. He tugged you a little closer, as though his silent way of reassuring you.

"And if you do get sick, trust me, I'll nurse you back to health in no time," he added, his soft smirk returning.

You rolled your eyes, a smirk of your own forming. “Oh, how romantic.” You sarcastically comment.

He chuckled. "Hey, I have many talents," he shrugged, feigning offence. "One of which is being a damn good nurse."

You raised a brow at the comment, leaning back as you felt the rain splatter against your calves. “Aren’t you supposed to be a professor?”

"Assistant." He corrected, his smirk widened into a full-fledged grin. "And what makes you think I can't be both an assisting professor and a damn good nurse, hm?"

He shook his head, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he glanced down at you, the rain dampening your hair. "You look like a wet dog."

You shot him a glare, smacking him half-heartedly. “Well, whose fault is that? If you didn’t drag me out here, we wouldn’t be in the middle of an icy downpour!” you retorted with a scoff.

"Oh, so now it's my fault that the sky decided to piss down today?" he teased, raising a brow.

You were just about to retort, but a loud crash draws your attention away. Both of you turn to see a woman stumble out of the bar, clearly intoxicated. She loses her footing and crashes into the nearby trash can, the loud clamour cutting through the pitter-patter of rain.

You snort, then step out from the umbrella and towards her, moving to check on the woman, but freeze mid-step as you catch a glimpse of her face. The moment you do, your shoulders inadvertently tense, muscles constricting tight instinctively.

Your heart rate spikes as recognition kicks in, and before your brain can fully register what’s happening, your body automatically reacts. You quickly take a step back, only to collide into the solid, unmoving form of the eldest Wayne brother — who you realise, with a hint of surprise, had moved to shield you.

You whirl around, eyes widening in a mixture of panic and disbelief as you grasp the older man’s sleeve. The words spill out of your mouth in a rushed, urgent plea.

“Dick–" you start, voice breaking on the name, "get me out of here, please." Your knuckles turn white from how hard you're gripping his jacket. "Now- now."

He looks from you to the woman then back at you, his jaw tightening. As you grip his jacket tighter, an almost desperate look in your eyes, he nods silently and tugs you closer under the umbrella.

"Alright," he responds, his voice steady and comforting. "Alright. We're going."

You feel like you're drowning, lungs burning as they fail to take in air. The world blurs around you, nothing making sense. Your fingers involuntarily dig into his arm, hanging on desperately as if he’s the only lifeline you have, the panic swelling inside you like a storm. You don't know what’s happening to you.

You're vaguely aware of him saying something, his voice a faint buzz in a sea of noise. But it’s distant, too distant. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins, and every instinct is screaming to run, run, run.

Your entire body is tense, muscles coiled as if ready to pounce at any moment, the animalistic need for survival kicking in. But the world blurs around you — colours bleeding into each other, sounds and shapes melding together, the only thing you are distinctly aware of is him. His presence, his solid figure, his anchoring grip on your body. It’s the only thing grounding you, stopping you from falling into the panic.

He says something again, his voice louder this time, but you can't make out the words. Your heart is thundering in your ears, the roar of the blood rushing through your veins drowning out everything else. He tries to pull you along, gently tugging you away from the woman, and your body follows obediently, feet moving without conscious thought.

As you let him guide you away, a part of you is distantly aware of the look the woman gives you. It’s a look that sends chills through your body — a look that holds no recognition, only a cold, unnerving blankness in her eyes.

Your legs mechanically move one in front of the other, blindly following where he leads. Every step feels like a mile, the adrenaline still pumping, your heart still racing. The rain, previously a monotonous backdrop, now feels like a violent spray of needles against your skin.

“W-whats.. What’s happening? Dick– Dick I can’t- I can’t breathe.”

His jaw tightens further as he feels you stumbling against him, your words breaking out as panicked gasps. He glances down, seeing the sheer terror etched on your face.

"Hey," he says, voice uncharacteristically soft. "Hey, hey, look at me, look at me. It's okay. It's okay.”

His hand goes to your cheek, gently cupping it, his thumb tracing over your skin in an attempt to soothe you.

“I’m here, I’m here. Listen to me, just breathe, alright? Just breathe.” His hand drops down to his pants pockets, shimmying out his phone.

He keeps his other hand on you, fingers gently rubbing at your cheek, grounding you as he taps the screen of his phone.

“You’re okay,” he repeats, eyes never leaving your face. “Just breathe for me. In and out, nice and slow.”

You try to focus on his words, but it’s difficult. Your mind is still racing, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. You’re fighting against your own body, trying fruitlessly to force it to calm down and listen to him.

But your lungs burn as they struggle to draw in a full breath.

Time seems to move in a blur. Everything is a mass of sensations that you can barely register — the cold rain that seeps through your clothing, the cold touch of Dick’s hand against your skin.

You find yourself being ushered into a long, black vehicle, Dick gently guiding you into the back seat before sliding in beside you, shutting the door with a soft click.

He's never seen you like this before. He's seen you cry, seen you angry, seen you determined, but never, *never* has he seen you so terrified, like this. You're pale, your hands shaking, breath coming out in sharp gasps.

His heart aches as he sees you struggle for breath, fighting against your own body. As he sits beside you in the backseat of the car, he gently grabs your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing it gently. His other hand pulling you close and tucking you into his side.

He murmurs in a low soothing tone, “Just- just breathe. Just focus on my voice. You're safe. If I'd known she'd be there I never would've brought you here, I'm sorry, baby bird.. I'm so sorry.." He presses a kiss against your temple, his hold tightening around you.

Your body is trembling uncontrollably, the panic attack refusing to subside. His hand finds purchase on the back of your neck, fingers massaging the tense muscles there in an attempt to calm you down.

"You're safe. I've got you," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're safe.."

Outside, the rain continues to fall, the sound of raindrops hitting the windowpane providing a strange background track to the situation. He keeps you tucked in against his side, his grip firm but gentle.

Dick's mind was on overdrive. His focus was solely fixated on you, comforting you and trying to bring you back from the brink of your panic attack. But underneath that, there was a simmering rage that threatened to boil over.

His mind went back to the woman — your mother. She wasn't supposed to be here. Tim had promised to keep an eye on her. You were supposed to be safe here.

All that went out of the window the moment he saw you step out from under the umbrella, your body tense and eyes narrowed. He could see you were trying to hold it together, but the moment you realised who it was, everything in you shattered.

A flash of anger ignited in him knowing that the woman caused you so much pain, so much terror.

You were supposed to be safe. That was the whole point. He had given Tim the sole responsibility of keeping your mother at bay, to ensure you never saw her or heard from her again. And yet, here he was, watching you fight a panic attack brought upon by her unannounced presence.

He clenched his jaw, the anger towards her, towards himself, burning bright. You were his little sibling. His baby bird. He was supposed to protect you.

He clenched his jaw, eyes meeting the soft grey ones of Alfred’s through the rearview mirror. His gaze murderous.

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