It’s Been So Long Since I’ve Sent An Ask In, I Fear The Kids Will Think We’re In A Divorce. So

Rotating an idea in my head;

Imagine a neglected!Reader who did everything in an attempt to impress their family.

Who got amazing grades and got into high school at age 11.

Who was "a savant beyond their years" and "talented beyond what their age group could be taught".

Skills came easy to them. Give them a year and some encouragement and before you know it they'll have mastered whatever it was.

It wasn't like they could leave the house and hang out with friends. Bruce said that was off the table. It got quiet so often in the manor.

But it wasn't enough

Until someone saw the potential that Batman was just leaving there. Like he wanted someone to just... scoop them up and tutor them.

Their friends and allies and even a few enemies saw the potential. They all agreed to teach them their greatest skill. In a year they've mastered all of them, even surpassing some of them.

Any drug they were developing was improved beyond anything they could've imagined.

Weapons fashioned to fit them far surpassed anything, even the best on the black market.

The Rogue Gallery was beyond impressed.

And Reader was on Cloud Nine with all the attention it was earning them. Head pats, praise, treats. It was more than anything they could've asked for. And even if they didn't have a new invention at the end of the week, so many were willing to just hang out. Without prompting! No "Go bother Alfred" or "I'm busy" or "Another time, chickadee".

Harley had to be reminded that a 12 year old had no business around hyenas, even if Budsie and Louie were on their best behavior. Harley settled for watching old magical girl animes with you.

Luckily, Poison Ivy knew not to bring you around her poisonous plants. Though she did spend a concerning time teaching you exactly what plants were poisonous and how they were poisonous.

Bane taught you everything he knew, from throwing a punch, to how to scare someone off. Granted, a 12 year old, with so much of their baby fat in their cheeks, and wrists as thick as Bane's thumb, looked like a Ragdoll kitten copying a Bengal tiger. He played chess with you too, and he said that given your role in advising, a knight or a bishop would fit you best.

Bane was your favorite. He'd smush your face (gently, you were so tiny he was scared of breaking you), lift you up, even do pushups and pull ups with you on his back.

When Bane told you how he'd saved Alfred once during a collapse of Arkham Asylum, only to be incapacitated once Alfred was "done" with him, it made your blood boil.

As you learned all of their stories, learned the human in all of them, you knew that you were saved from a family with rotten blood. You'd spend your life repaying them, even if they never asked.

--------

Eventually, you decide to follow them into battle. You're kept up and away from the bulk of the battle. This time, it was Joker vs the Batfamily. Tim was unable to track what he'd been trying to do past a few errant clues. It was clear that the Rouge Gallery had a new villain.

You were given direct instructions to watch yourself; Joker wouldn't care enough to tear his eyes off Batman. You already knew that; Harley had spent 3 days trying to convince you to reschedule with someone else, but you told her you wanted Joker, not someone who'd be tempted to glance back and give away your hiding space.

Jason was the one that saw you. You were dressed in a costume that resembled a bishop chess piece with a split full face mask, perched atop a van far from the actual battle. His old scars with Joker made him hesitate, but you looked like a definite person of interest, and everyone else was indisposed.

He ran over, firing rubber bullets as you dodged, eventually tripping and falling off the van. Why were you so small? Jason picked you up, grip just loose enough so you could breathe.

You reached up, pulling your mask off. Jason blanched as he saw your face, soft around the edges and wide eyed.

Bruce told him that he'd stayed away to protect you from the vigilante life. You were the one person who hadn't pushed to join them, so he never told you about missions to avoid any ideas of joining. Jason followed suit, and so did the others. Their lives were busy enough anyways, and you had Alfred when he didn't have something more important to do.

He may have brushed you off more than absolutely necessary, but he wasn't in the right headspace then! You had already grown so much and all he'd wanted by then was vengeance on Batman. You couldn't blame him for keeping his distance at that point. He was protecting you.

But here you were, pinned by the throat by your own brother. Your protector. He released you, taking a step back. He glanced around for an opening, seeing a small alleyway. He gestured over his shoulder for you to follow. "C'mon kid. I'll get you back home and I won't even tell Bruce you snuck out, 'k?"

Suddenly, he felt a prick in his back, shortly followed by a burning itch and ice cold pain. He fell to the ground, trying to reach the spot you pricked.

"Miss Ivy said these were dangerous. Her own home blend. It's a diluted version, so you'll be fine in a few days, Todd" said the much too calm voice above him. He was struggling to breathe around the writhing mass of pain, looking up at you between blinks of tears.

He couldn't scream, he could barely breathe. He could die here and the family wouldn't know until the dust settled.

"It won't kill you, and from the looks of it, they'll be coming to pick you up soon."

"Aren't we family?" He chokes out between gasps. He felt so lost. You were his baby sibling, the tiny thing that'd wander the halls, holding an old chess board as you asked your cool big brother to play with you. The person he kept away from to protect. How could you repay him like this?

Hadn't he done so much for you?

You look at him from the boot of the van. When had you gotten so far away? Your voice is quiet, but it's heard, if barely, over the revving of the engine as Joker's minions prepare to drive away, and the screaming of his name as the rest of the family approaches.

"Were we? I never thought you wanted a baby sibling like me."

-------

The Batfamily took him home and patched him up. The new tech, like all other recent inventions brought in, were so advanced they bordered on state of the art. Even Tim was struggling to decode any of them, with all the kill-switches that seemed to recognize when it wasn't hooked up to the original computer and bricked themselves.

Jason had recovered, like you said, in a few days. Capable of breathing easily in 2 days, regularly needing to be sedated before then, and sitting up without pain by day 5.

The Batfamily had asked him by day 4 about the masked person they had seen next to him. Jason was detached from himself. That face, those eyes. They held no warmth for him, no pity for him while he was writhing in agony at their feet. Like he was less than a stranger.

Like he was less than human in their eyes.

Your name fell off his tongue like lead, slamming against the ground as everyone fell into silence.

"It was them. They gave me that injection. Their face, I-"

"Todd, did the injection give you hallucinations? There was no way that they'd accomplish something like that." Damian raised his brow, checking the chart to make sure the bulk was out of his system.

"I know what I saw. They hadn't even injected me when I saw their face."

"That's impossible, Jay! Look, I'll go to their room and get them right now. They'll probably be pretty cranky since it's, what, 4am?" Dick's footsteps disappeared down the hall.

After a few minutes, Dick came running back, looking at Jason with a mix of shock, horror, and confusion.

Two words.

Two words that finally made them look at you.

Two words that made them realized what they'd missed.

Two words that made them connect the inventions that almost got them killed to the darling child they'd convinced themselves they were protecting with cold shoulders and smothering silence.

Two words that made them refocus their sights on bringing you back.

"They're gone."

Dating Ghost!Jackie Headcanons

pairing: Jackie Taylor x r note: I'm not sure what this is either 🤷

Jackie being a pain in your ass beyond the grave. maybe not getting on with her super well while she was alive, so while her death was sad, it wasn’t nearly as emotionally devastating as it was for Shauna or someone else. so when you suddenly start seeing Jackie standing behind Shauna and trying to get her attention as she sobs over Jackie’s corpse, you wonder why you of all people would “hallucinate” her.

she finally notices you can see her when you can’t quite muffle your laugh at some petty comment she makes as the girls start carrying her body off to the meatshed. her eyes immediately narrow in on you while you’re just standing like a deer in the headlights.

just thinking about Shauna out there sobbing and crying in the meatshed with Jackie's corpse while Jackie's screaming in your ear because you won’t respond to her and she knows your ass can see her. at the top of her fucking lungs like a damn toddler. keeps switching into songs that give Crystal and Misty a run for their money on being annoying. holding a pillow over your head and groaning to drown her out, and Lottie’s trying to put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you, thinking it's hunger pain or something.

she doesn’t talk as much as she did before—not that she ever really talked to you all that much to begin with. Jackie stares after Shauna a lot, following her around and trying fruitlessly to get her to hear her. she’s quiet a lot now, but if she’s not at Shauna’s side, she’s at yours. 

you finally give up and start answering her whenever you’re mostly alone, claiming it’s just because you’ve accepted that you’re crazy now—though it’s mostly because she just looks so damn sad all the time. she brightens up a lot after this, following you like a lost puppy as you find the emptiest corners of the room to sit in. the other girls sometimes catch you talking to yourself, but with how everyone else is doing, they don’t bother to be concerned about it.

makes it her mission to annoy you as much as humanly possible, commenting on every little thing you’re doing like she’s a game show host. if you have to listen to Jackie narrate the way you eat one more time, you might just join her. always finds the worst time to jump out at you, giggling as she makes you look insane for screaming in shock in the middle of the cabin.

Jackie knocks stuff over whenever the other girls start talking shit about Shauna’s behavior in the meatshed. she doesn’t talk a lot about what Shauna does there, but she always looks strangely flattered when she comes back.

keeps you up to date on all the little drama’s going on in the cabin that you don’t witness. there’s literally no stopping her from eavesdropping on conversations and giving you a play-by-play as they happen. sometimes you just hear a dramatic gasp as her ghostly ass is skipping over to you to tell you about it.

bullies you into giving some of your food to Shauna. Shauna looks at you like you’re crazy but eagerly accepts it all the same. Jackie is standing there looking so proud of herself, like she’s the one that’s going to be starving and not you.

you have weird dreams almost every night. they aren’t unpleasant, just a little strange. they’re always about Jackie, always in places you think she would’ve enjoyed. walking around the mall, passing the ball around on the field, that sort of thing. you don’t think much of it until Jackie mentions something in passing one day about it.

guilt trips you into doing things for her all the time. “Do you remember that time you let me go outside and die in the snow?” and then “yeah, that’s what I thought.” when you roll your eyes and go do it.

thinking about Jackie’s emotions bleeding over onto you. Jackie’s always felt everything so strongly, and this only seems to get worse after she’s died. you can literally feel her longing so strongly that it’ll wake you up in the middle of the night, just to find Jackie staring at you with the softest little look. you aren’t sure how to feel about it at first, but it’s better than feeling her grief.

who’s going to tell the dead girl she can’t have a little crush after all? besides, it’s not like you’re uninterested: Jackie’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met. it’s a strange dynamic, but it’s not like either of you have a lot of options out here.

just as possessive, even in death. starts getting incredibly jealous whenever you talk to someone who’s alive. Nat’s asking if you’ve seen her headband and the fucking door slams open against the wall. you weren’t even aware she could do something like that. you can feel her eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as the whole room starts to get cold if anyone goes near you besides Shauna.

she always tries to touch you, but most of the time you can’t feel it. the only time you can is when she gets particularly emotional. a hand closing around your wrist and almost pulling you away when she gets particularly jealous about something, a finger brushing away your tears when you can’t help but cry, etc.

Jackie can’t really do much else, so she resorts to a lot of compliments. she compliments your three layers of random shirts like it was an actual fashion choice, and you finally have to draw the line. just thinking about Jackie complimenting you and then sitting cross-legged in front of you like “and now me,” all expectant.

A Twisted Romantic Fairytale (Wally Clark x Reader

Word Count: 3K

A tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers.

Warnings: Death

The homecoming game of 1983 was a tragic tale of two star crossed lovers perishing beside one another. It’s a story for the history books and one Split River High would remember in the years going forward. One that students remember as a devastating if not twisted romantic fairytale. Two young lovers bound together for eternity.

Homecoming Game - 1983.

Excitement runs rampant through the air as everybody floods into the stadium, eager chattering of students combined with the cheerful melodies of the marching band fill me with joy. It’s not as if I haven’t been here before, I’m no stranger to the blinding lights of Split River football stadium. In fact I’ve been cheering on the sidelines at every football game for the past four years or so, but tonight is different. I’m unsure of whether the electricity I can feel within the air has always been there and I have simply never noticed, or if it has something to do with the fact that this is my last homecoming game of my high school career. It’s the one night that counts. After all, it’s hard to miss the countless recruiters already situated within the stands.

“There you are! God, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Upon hearing the familiar voice, I can’t help but smile. Turning my attention away from the water fountain where I had previously been filling my water bottle, to see the dark haired jock that makes my heart race.

Wally Clark. Where do I even begin to describe this boy? 

I first met Wally on the second day of senior year. My family had just moved to Split River from Amber, Nevada, following my father’s transfer within the police department. Having accepted a promotion, despite the fact it meant we had to uproot our entire lives and move almost two thousand miles away.

It’s fair to say that I had been a complete mess, struggling to find my feet in a town that was the complete opposite to everything I had been used to. Not to mention the constant arguing between my parents caused by the stress of the move. Feeling so overwhelmed by my entire life changing so quickly, I couldn’t bring myself to attend first period and instead found myself tucked away in the bleachers, smoking a cigarette with shaky hands.

It was at that moment that Wally had found me, with a warm smile on his face, he comforted me. Welcomed me to the strange new town of Split River. Offered to sit with me in the cafeteria at lunch despite being a total stranger. However, something about the way things took place felt incredibly natural. As though this was the way things were meant to be.

Wally and I became inseparable from that moment forward, he encouraged me to join the cheerleading team. Insisting that it was only because he knew it was a passion of mine and not because it meant I would be forced to go to the football games that he just so happened to play. And how could I say no to that charming grin?

Throughout the years, we both learnt a lot about one another. He listened and supported me as I discussed my turbulent homelife, detailing how my parents seemed to be getting closer and closer to divorce by the day and how in turn I became practically invisible to them. I was there for him following every argument he had with his mother, reminding him that his sole purpose in life was not just football. Ensuring he knew that he had other talents and qualities that were just as good if not better than his football skills.

We weren’t best friends, we were each other’s rock through thick and thin. So when he kissed me on the field, following yet another win for the team, I felt like I was floating on air. Unearthing all of the feelings I harbored for the jock, even if I had spent all that time trying to bury them.

Wally’s heart is so pure and full of love. Being on the receiving end of that love to the fullest extent is the greatest joy I will ever be able to experience. To have someone be such a bright light in your life is truly a blessing.

So if I had to describe Wally Clark? I’d say he was an angel brought down from heaven just for me.

“Excited for the big game my love?” Wally asks as he finally reaches me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and placing a soft kiss on my temple.

“More nervous than excited. Kristine’s had us practicing a new move and with all the recruiters, I’m just scared I’m going to let the nerves get to me and mess up.” I admit, reaching my own hand up to hold his that remains over my shoulder as we begin to stroll through the crowds towards the locker rooms.

“You’re a superstar!” Wally exclaims, to which I’m unable to contain my laughter. “I mean it! You’re gonna smash it, honestly. I’ve never seen someone make cheerleading look as mesmerizing as you do. It’s borderline hypnotic, I’m telling you.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever you say.” I reply, tone sarcastic, yet his words of encouragement do make me feel ten times better. “Anyway, what about my favorite player? Are you feeling okay?”

I don’t miss the pained look that flashes briefly crosses his face before returning to his usual winning beam. I’m sure he’s just ready to get the game over with, wanting to return to some sense of normality and let loose at the dance. No longer having to deal with the overwhelming amount of pressure that his mom places on him to be the best.

“I guess I’m a little worried. My knee has been playing up for the past few days and coach said I needed to rest it, which is what I’ve been trying to do. I don’t know, I just don’t want to let anyone down, especially not my mom. Or you.”

As Wally finishes speaking we reach the doors of the locker room and I remove myself from his embrace to stand in front of him. Taking his hands gently in mine as I gaze up at the sweet boy. Noticing the slight gleam of worry and shame hidden deep within his coffee brown eyes.

“Whatever happens out there, you won’t be letting anyone down, I promise.” My voice is soft as I speak to him, wanting him to truly understand how little his performance matters. “Your mom may be disappointed but she’ll get over it. As long as you’re happy, healthy and alive, that’s the most important thing. Just don’t push yourself too hard, I know how important it is to you that you make your mom proud but she’ll be proud of you no matter what. I mean, how could she not be? You’re amazing Wally Clark.”

The footballer smiles, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me into his body tightly. Resting my head against his chest, I close my eyes for a moment, allowing myself to relax in his embrace and breathing in deeply to take in the deep oaky scent that is Wally. He rests his head atop of mine and I can feel him squeeze me gently, hands scrunching up the fabric of my t-shirt as he does so.

“Wally Clark, better get yourself in that locker room right now! It’s almost showtime!” I hear the coach yell and my boyfriend sighs, slowly releasing me from his tight hold.

“Now go show everybody just how amazing you are.” I whisper, lovingly gazing up at him.

He nods as though in confirmation with my previous statement, before taking my face in his hands and slowly leaning down to interlock his lips with mine. Delicately and with the remaining hint of nerves racing through his body, his lips move gently with mine. My cheeks feel burning hot compared to the brisk coldness of his hands, caused by the icy fall winds, though I don’t seem to mind. Embracing the sweetness of Wally’s mouth and the tenderness of every move he makes.

It’s with much reluctance that we pull away from one another, however, after catching a glimpse of the coach’s disapproving look, I know the moment is over. Sending the jock to get himself ready with a swift peck to the cheek, him offering me a cheeky wink in return as we both slink off to our respective locker rooms.

The next time I see Wally is when the team makes their grand entrance onto the field. A big cheesy grin rests on my face as I hear the crowds' screams of support, waving flags and homemade banners to cheer on the team. With a few cheers of my own, a couple of the girls and I begin to hype up the crowd even more, jumping wildly and encouraging their yells.

As I shoot a quick glance over to the field, I’m able to spot my boyfriend easily, even with his helmet on. Smiling brightly at me even as he runs towards his team to discuss their play. My heart flutters knowing that he still makes an effort to look for me even as the game is about to begin.

“Alright girls, you know what to do!” Kristina shouts, alerting us to take up our positions and prepare for the first routine of the night.

Noticing the game is about to commence, I feel myself worrying less about messing up the performance, focusing solely on Wally and his uplifting words from moments earlier. Sharing gleeful smiles with my fellow cheerleaders, I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement as the music roars through the stadium.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur, with the Split River football team taking an early victory and our routine flowing perfectly without a single fault or mistake. It’s almost too good to be true.

With our final move only seconds away, I feel the nerves return once more as I boost myself into the hands of the other girls. Their hands wrapped around my ankles and calves to ensure my safety and support whilst in the air. It’s only when I’m hoisted into the air that my stomach twists. Something doesn’t feel right but I’m unable to do anything. Everything happens in slow motion and as I catch sight of the ground looming towards me, I’m hit instantly by the fact that I’m not going to make my mark. I’m not going to land firmly in the hands of the girls beneath me.

I suppose the one good thing about all of this is that I only have a split second to panic before my body plummets to the hard asphalt below my feet. The thump my body makes as it slams against the ground is enough to make anybody squeal.

Cheerleaders scream. Music cuts off.

Then I simply feel nothing.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wally’s the first to notice the chaos unfolding at the side of the field. Distracted by whatever seems to be taking place, he doesn’t notice the opposing team's player bolting towards him. He lands with a grunt, knee buckling and sending a sharp shooting pain through the length of his leg.

As he rises to his feet, he hears the whistle blowing repeatedly, noticing the chaos begin to grow larger. With furrowed brows he finds himself jogging towards the crowd, even if it does cause him a significant amount of pain that he tries desperately to hide.

Pushing through the screaming group of footballers and cheerleaders, it’s at that moment that he sees her. Lay unmoving against the concrete, his heart stops momentarily. Feeling sick to his stomach at the sight of his beautiful girl lifeless, body contorted in ways he didn’t know physically possible. 

Wally drops to his knees, students stepping away from him as he does so. Not knowing how to comfort the poor boy in this time of need. The physical pain he is feeling in his leg is nothing compared to the emotional turmoil he is going through right now. Dragging her body on to his knees and cradling her delicately, in fear of breaking her anymore.

With clouded vision, he stares down at his love, body releasing wails and sobs he had never once made in his life. Blood stains his hands, his jersey, his trousers and yet he doesn’t care. Overwhelmed by his grief, watching the color drain from her skin. He doesn’t think anything could be more painful, nothing in his life could compare to the trauma of his girlfriend sprawled out in his arms.

Wally struggles with the ambulance crew as they begin to remove her body, his coach restraining him as they place her in the back of an ambulance. The jock barely acknowledges his coach telling him that he’s been benched as he watches with heartbreak as the ambulance drives away and in his distress all he can do is cry on the sidelines.

With his mom standing behind him, badgering him about winning a scholarship and needing him in the game, Wally feels nothing but rage. All his life, he’d done right by his mom, wanting her to be proud of him, wanting her to acknowledge his successes but right now, he wanted nothing more than to tell her to close her mouth.

Instead, he finds himself marching over to the coach, begging to be put back into the game, arguing that he needs something to take his mind off what he just witnessed and that he is in fact in the correct headspace to win. And somehow, his efforts pay off much to his surprise. Back in the game, Wally has more strength than ever. Fuelled by his rage and his grief.

Whilst he finds it distasteful and disrespectful that the game continues despite his sweet girl losing her life only moments before, he plays with the knowledge that she’d want him to win. She would want him to succeed and so he tries. He tries for her because if not for her, then he has no other reason to keep going. She was the one good thing in his life that kept him from going off the deep and without her, he doesn’t know how he will continue. So for now, he simply focuses on the game.

The sharp pain in his knee grows stronger and with every passing minute he struggles more and more. Trying desperately to ignore it, he claims the ball, running at full speed towards the touchline and yet as he runs directly towards an opposing player, he makes no effort to slow down. Not thinking about the potential consequences of his actions.

He hits the ground with a devastating blow. World shrouded in darkness almost immediately. However, he feels more at peace than he ever has.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I watch with bated breath as Wally tumbles aggressively to the floor, the crack ripples throughout the stadium and I can’t help but gasp. Throwing my hands across my mouth as I fixate on the footballers rushing to his aid. My mind races at one million thoughts per minute, why did he go back out onto the field? Why didn’t he move out of the way? How could he be so reckless?

I’m so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I almost miss the tall jock standing watching over his own body as people hopelessly attempt to resuscitate his cold body. Before I can even react, I’m slowly walking towards him, even with his back towards me I can tell he’s in pain. Hands in his hair, tugging slightly as he comes to the realization of what has happened.

My hands are shaking the closer I get, breath caught in my throat as I swallow the lump in my throat. I’m not entirely sure why I’m scared, perhaps simply afraid of what this means for us now?

“Wally.” My voice is small, timid. Hands clasped together over my chest as I anxiously await his reaction.

As though he doesn’t believe it, Wally’s body goes stiff. When he finally faces me, his mouth falls open in shock, eyes holding the same softness that they did in life and I smile hesitantly. He’s the first to break the tension, scooping me up in his arms and holding me tighter than he ever has before.

“I’m sorry Wally, I’m so sorry, I promise I didn’t mean for this to happen.” My voice breaks as I speak, tears staining my cheeks. “I should’ve tried harder and then this would never have happened. You’d still be alive. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Darling it’s okay. We’re together now, yeah?” Wally states, placing his arms on my shoulders as he fully takes me in, holding me at arm’s length as if he’s checking I’m okay. Not that it really matters now.

“What were you thinking? Going back out was so stupid and irresponsible and reck-”

“I didn’t want to let you down.” Wally whispers, eyes falling to his feet in shame. “I wanted to make it all worth it, I wanted you to be proud of me because I knew you’d be looking down on me.”

“Wally, I-”

“I don’t think I could live without you sweetheart. I don’t think I’d want to.” He admits, bringing one hand to my face, thumb stroking my cheek softly. “Seeing you there, all limp and lifeless, I didn’t just lose you. I lost something within myself too.”

“I’m so sorry.” I sob, allowing myself to release all the emotions built up inside of me.

“I still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.” Wally confesses, smiling adoringly at me. “I still do.”

A quiet giggle escapes my mouth, pulling the tall boy towards me and pressing my lips roughly to his. Wanting, no, needing to feel him against me. To feel the way his mouth dances with mine and the way his hands tenderly caress my waist. I just need him.

“So where do we go from here?” The jock questions, our foreheads restings against one another as we catch our breath

“I don’t know, but as long as you’re with me, I don’t really care.”

Shattered Bonds

English is not my native language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

The Wayne Manor loomed like a cathedral of shadows, its gothic spires clawing at the Gotham sky. Inside, chandeliers cast fractured light across mahogany panels, but the warmth of their glow never reached you. You were a ghost in your own home, a forgotten daughter of the Bat, tethered to a family that saw you only in glimpses. As Damian Wayne’s twin, you’d once shared his world—two children forged in the crucible of the League of Assassins, bound by blood and secrets. But where Damian’s fire burned bright, commanding attention, you were the ember, quiet and overlooked, your warmth reserved for those who cared to notice.

No one did. Not anymore.

The neglect had been a slow poison, seeping through the years. Bruce, your father, was a monolith, his eyes forever fixed on Gotham’s underbelly, his rare words to you clipped and utilitarian. Dick’s smiles were fleeting, Jason’s rough affection sporadic, Tim’s focus consumed by screens and cases. Even Alfred, with his gentle offerings of tea and concern, couldn’t bridge the chasm between you and the others. Damian, your mirror, your twin, had grown cold, his loyalty now a blade turned outward, never inward. You’d learned to live with it, to swallow the ache of being unseen. But then came Lila, and the ache became a wound.

Lila arrived a year ago, a waif with haunted eyes and a trembling lip, plucked from Gotham’s streets by Bruce’s boundless need to save. You saw yourself in her at first—a girl adrift, hungry for belonging. You spent nights by her side, listening to her whispered fears, bandaging her scraped knees, teaching her to navigate the manor’s labyrinthine halls. You thought you were building something—a sister, a friend. But Lila was no lost soul. She was a predator, and you were her prey.

Her lies began as whispers, soft and insidious. “Y/N pushed me down the stairs,” she’d sob to Damian, her voice quivering with rehearsed fragility. The accusation landed like a stone, and your twin’s emerald eyes—once your anchor—flashed with doubt. “Y/N mocked me during training,” she’d confide to Dick, who’d ruffle her hair and shoot you a disappointed glance. She told Tim you’d sabotaged her schoolwork, Jason that you’d sneered at her weakness, Bruce that you were consumed by jealousy. Each lie was a brushstroke, painting you as the villain in a story you hadn’t written.

The manor turned against you. Family dinners became tribunals, your every word dissected, your silences condemned. “You need to be better, Y/N,” Bruce would say, his voice heavy with the weight of a city he couldn’t save. “We’re a team.” But you weren’t a team. You were the scapegoat, the shadow cast by Lila’s light.

Behind closed doors, her mask fell. In the dim corridors, where the manor’s grandeur faded to gloom, Lila’s cruelty was a blade. She’d shove you against the wall, her nails biting into your arms. “You’re nothing here,” she’d hiss, her breath hot against your ear. “They all love me more.” She’d pinch your skin until it bloomed purple, leaving bruises you hid beneath oversized sweaters. Once, she poured ink into your schoolbag, ruining your textbooks, then wept to the family that you’d done it to frame her. The lie stuck, and your protests were met with sighs and eye-rolls.

School, once a refuge, became a battlefield. Lila’s whispers spread like wildfire through Gotham Academy’s polished halls. “Y/N’s a liar,” she’d murmur to your classmates. “A whore who thinks she’s a Wayne but’s just a mistake.” The words were venom, and they worked. Notes appeared in your locker—crude insults, threats. Girls shoved you in the halls, their laughter a chorus of malice. Boys whispered behind your back, their gazes sharp with disdain. You were ostracized, a pariah in a world you’d once navigated with quiet pride.

You fought to be heard. You went to Damian first, your twin, the boy who’d once shared your heartbeat in the womb. In his room, surrounded by his sketches and swords, you bared your soul. “She’s lying, Dami,” you pleaded, rolling up your sleeve to show the bruises Lila’s fingers had left. “She’s hurting me.” His gaze lingered on the marks, but his jaw tightened, and he turned away. “Lila wouldn’t do that,” he said, voice low and final. “You’re just upset she’s fitting in better than you.” The words were a knife, twisting deep. Your twin, your other half, had chosen her.

You tried Bruce next, standing in his study as rain lashed the windows. The Batcomputer hummed behind him, its glow casting his face in cold blue. You poured out everything—Lila’s lies, her cruelty, the bruises, the bullying at school. “I’m not making this up,” you said, voice trembling but steady. “She’s turning everyone against me.” Bruce listened, but his eyes drifted to the screens, to Gotham’s endless demands. “You need to work this out with her,” he said, as if your pain were a minor dispute. “I don’t have time for petty squabbles.” *Petty.* The word was a sledgehammer, shattering what little hope you’d clung to.

The others were no better. Dick tried to mediate, sitting you and Lila down like children fighting over toys. But her tears flowed on cue, and his sympathy tilted her way. “Y/N, you’ve got to meet her halfway,” he said, oblivious to the bruises beneath your sleeves. Jason laughed it off, slinging an arm around you that felt more like pity than support. “You’re tougher than this, kid. Don’t let her get to you.” Tim, ever the detective, analyzed your claims but found no “concrete evidence” to back them. “Lila’s stories check out,” he said, as if your pain were a case to be solved. Alfred alone saw the truth, his eyes soft as he pressed a warm mug into your hands. “You are enough, Miss Y/N,” he murmured. But his kindness couldn’t undo the family’s verdict.

Lila’s final act came at a family dinner, the table laden with crystal and silver, the air thick with unspoken tensions. She “accidentally” knocked a glass of red wine onto your dress, the stain spreading like blood. Before you could speak, she burst into tears, claiming you’d threatened her for being clumsy. The room stilled, eyes pinning you in place. Damian’s gaze was ice, Bruce’s disappointment a tangible weight. Dick frowned, Jason smirked, Tim looked away. “I didn’t do anything,” you whispered, but your voice was a ghost, drowned by Lila’s sobs. You stood, chair scraping the floor, and fled to your room.

That night, you made your choice. The manor was no longer home—it was a cage, and you were done begging for freedom. In the silence of your room, you packed a duffel bag—clothes, a photo of you and Damian as children, a knife Talia had given you years ago. You wrote a letter, your pen shaking but your resolve ironclad:

*Father,*

Fuck off, I don't care.

*With love, the girl you don't care about*

You left the letter on Bruce’s desk, slipped out through a servants’ entrance, and vanished into Gotham’s rain-soaked night.

The journey to Talia’s compound was a blur of buses, planes, and forged documents. When you arrived, the desert sun burned away the last of Gotham’s chill. Talia waited at the gates, her presence commanding, her eyes sharp but soft as they took you in. “My child,” she said, her voice a balm. She drew you into her arms, and for the first time in years, you didn’t feel invisible. “You’ve carried too much.” She didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t need them. Talia saw the weight in your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and she understood.

In Gotham, your absence went unnoticed at first. The Batfamily was consumed—patrols, cases, Lila’s endless dramas. But when Alfred found your letter, the manor erupted. Bruce read it in his study, the words blurring as his hands trembled. He’d failed you, his daughter, and the realization was a fist to his chest. Damian, summoned by Alfred’s urgent call, stared at the letter, your handwriting searing into his mind. He remembered your bruises, your pleas, and a crack formed in his certainty. Dick cursed himself, replaying every moment he’d dismissed you. Jason punched a wall, rage masking his guilt. Tim scoured security footage, desperate for a trace of you, but Talia’s network was a fortress, every lead a dead end.

Lila sensed the shift, her grip on the family faltering. She doubled down, weaving new tales, but without you as the scapegoat, her lies frayed. Damian, haunted by your absence, began to question. He revisited your room, finding a hidden journal you’d kept—pages of Lila’s cruelty, your pain, your pleas for help. His heart twisted, guilt replacing his doubt. Tim, ever methodical, dug into Lila’s past, unearthing inconsistencies—a foster home that didn’t exist, a story that didn’t add up. The truth emerged, slow but relentless, and Lila’s house of cards collapsed.

But it was too late. You were gone, and the Batfamily’s regret couldn’t bring you back. With Talia, you trained under the desert sun, your body growing stronger, your mind sharper. You learned to wield your mother’s blades, to command her operatives, to reclaim the fire you’d buried under years of neglect. You weren’t the scared girl who’d fled the manor. You were Talia al Ghul’s daughter, forged in pain and tempered by choice.

One night, as you stood on a balcony overlooking the endless dunes, Talia joined you. “You are whole again,” she said, her voice proud. You nodded, the weight of Gotham lifting. The Batfamily would always be a part of you—Bruce’s strength, Damian’s fire, the others’ fleeting warmth—but they no longer defined you. You’d chosen yourself, your mother, your truth. And in the desert’s vast silence, you were free.

And now, in the silence of the night, with your eyes fixed on the endless desert, the ghosts of your past begin to fade, one by one. Somewhere in the mansion you once called home, the echoes of your cries still linger—but they no longer define you. You spent a lifetime waiting to be heard… but now, in the quiet, you’ve finally found your voice. You are no longer someone’s shadow. Not a twin’s echo. Not a forgotten daughter. Not a casualty of someone else’s lies. Now, there is only you. And this time, the pain didn’t break you—it forged you anew. When you look back, there will still be memories laced with love, no matter how broken. Maybe, one day… someone will truly see you. But until then, as the desert winds whisper your name, you’ll no longer seek validation in the darkness. Because in the end, the moment you stopped fighting for them, you finally won for yourself.

How did it happen?

sunset beach walks with jackie...

BAH! her abs here.....

little drives to the beach with her ☹️ packing lunch and drinks and blankets..... jackie making you guys a sandwich while you run around the house looking for the sunscreen because she burns easily.. and you know she's too overprotective and just lathers that sunscreen on you in the car before walking out....

jackie hanging her head out of the window so she can feel the wind hit her face.. you almost crash into a car while admiring her :/ stopping by some gas station for a little snack on the way and i feel like she's suck a trinket girl.. she gets you guys these hats (ur out of the city atp) and these little fidget toys for back home 😞 tbh. she's not above buying shovels and sand buckets...

getting there later than expected but still having fun ^^. just something about the simple act of laying ur blankets down next to each other, jackie's little sack of food in the middle.... watching her get undressed and smiling at her as she holds her hand out and tells you to come in the water with her. i need.

jackie splashing you and pouting when you splash even harder. jackie who yelps and jumps into your arms when she feels seaweed touch her feet 😭

staying there late, just eating ur food and watching the sun set together as you talk about whatever. ur practically the only ones still there and you feel safe enough to leave ur things on the sand and ask her to walk with you. silent walks :( jackie clinging to your arm and just enjoying the feeling of being with you. she speaks up to ask if you liked how today turned out, hoping that you say yes :( she's so giddy when you do say yes, smiling bashfully when you say that she made it so good.

idc how cheesy and sappy this is, thinking about play fighting with her and then racing back to your towels, jackie pouting angrily when you win (you didn't even say that, you called it a tie to make her feel better) and pushing you on your ass so she can sit on your lap, holding your arms down and telling you to admit that she won. anyways, thinking about it turning into a soft makeout session, jackie resting her head on your chest and watching the sunset after you both get tired.

Can you make a chat bot where the whole team already like the user but during the crash they was starting to get weird and possessive

(AND I MEAN EVERY LAST ONE OF THE YELLOWJACKET GIRLS)

YELLOWJACKETS BOT

Obsessed for you

You had joined the Wiskayok High School team after moving to another city in the middle of the school year. At first, when she joined, she thought the girls would talk bad about her behind her back like they did with Allie. Surprisingly, however, they all treated her well, even Taissa, who seemed the hardest to please. Shauna offered her a ride at the end of every practice. Lottie always showed up with a new gift for her, something like a bracelet that would probably cost more than a house. Natalie, who always liked to spend her breaks alone, would ask you to stay behind the school and smoke. Misty always tried to be accepted by the team, but with you, it was another level. During the break time between practices, she would offer you a thousand different things to cool off. Jackie always went easy on you during practice. Mari would always buy you a milkshake to share with you when she could. Why did Taissa and Van come out to you? Not even you understood, but I supported you with all the affection possible.

Then the days passed in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, you were already boarding the plane and in the blink of an eye the plane had crashed... The screams of the other girls, the cries and the dead bodies were terrible. But you had to survive, you had to get over it, so you went with the flow, and then everything started to get strange.

"You know, I think y/n shouldn't do the chores outside, it's dangerous." — *Mari said as she stirred the bear meat in the steel pan*

You raise an eyebrow in surprise, but when you were about to answer, Natalie lets out an ironic laugh as she adjusts her gun behind her back, getting ready to leave

"You want her to stay here because you're the only one who doesn't have any activities outside, it's better for her to go hunting with me" —Natalie says, looking at you

It was so fast that you didn't even notice when all the girls started discussing what you were going to do or better yet, who you were going to stay with

Yellowjackets

Note: I'm not used to making collective bots so it might not be that good but I tried hard. THANK YOU FOR REQUEST 😋

★- 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

☆ - YANDERE NATLAN VARIOUS X MEXICAN! READER

✦°• - 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇... a Mexican suddenly gets teleported into a random game called "Genshin Impact", and gets into the Nation Of War. She soon meets many interesting people but why are they acting crazy around her?

☆

☆°. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝗼𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝗼𝐧, 𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐫, 𝐭𝗼𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝗺𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬, 𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝗺𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝗺𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐬 ! 𝐈𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝗼𝗺𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝗼𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝗼 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬!

☆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 1 - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 2 - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 3 - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 4 - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 5 - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 ??? - 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓

☆

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (ᵒᵖᵉⁿ): @salhanskkdbfkekfb

I DO NOT OWN GENSHIN IMPACY, ONLY THIS FANFIC.. ALSO ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO EXPECT SOME GRAMMAR ERRORS.

housewife jackie with a butch reader thoughts?

loves dressing up for you... ive said this in probably every housewife jackie thought but it's true!! even if it's just her grabbing your shirt to put on for a lazy afternoon, she loves watching your eyes light up in recognition and when you compliment how good she looks ^^ likes the simple act of dressing up for a date. likes how you guys end up matching sometimes even when it wasn't planned. loves helping you get dressed, she's always got a gummy smile on her face as she buttons your shirt or ties your tie or smooths out your jacket that she steals at the end of the night.

jackie who loves when you get in touch with your feminine side in your own way :( you help her get in touch with her masculine side and it's just a great bonding experience 😊

she's a.....i dont even know what texter. not a double texter, not a triple texter, but a hundred texter. literally sends you so many texts throughout the day of random things like what she's doing or how much she misses you or selfies of her hand with new rings on it cause she's shopping 😁 you love it. it can get annoying when ur at work and keep getting out ur phone every 5 seconds because she's such a fast responder (only for you), but she makes you smile so much.

running your hands through jackie's hair as you give her a hot bath, taking care of her after she took care of you. gently scrubbing her body and massaging her legs because she was on her feet all day (so were you, but this is your girl! she deserves it more.

shy!butch!reader who appreciates when jackie talks for them in public :) always walking into shops first so you're not the center of attention, always being the one to ask questions to the clerk, always holding your hand and gently telling you to lead the way, or even leading it for you. butch with anxiety who always needs to talk with jackie before a phone call, going over what to say, and jackie who reassures you that it's gonna be fine, and even offers to write down prompts or something in case you forget what to say :(

possessive!jackie and butch who's awkward with affection :) she's always tugging you closer in public. she's the femme who hugs you from behind and places kisses on your ear in checkout lanes... she loves how you tense up and flush when she grabs your hand, loves how you can barely make eye contact with her when she's close to your face and kisses you, loves how you're so awkward when trying to show her how much you love her but you can't get the words out because she's so pretty and you just don't know what to say. it's worse in public because she thinks everyone wants you... she needs your eyes on HERS, and will use her finger to move your chin so you're facing her instead of left (ur just nervous 😭). she's always playin' footsie under tables and reaching across said table to rub your arm as you guys eat together. i think her favorite thing is when she verbally gets possessive and says some shit that makes you snort or choke on your food/drink.

I'mma be so real, I could not find if you were open to asks or not as well as find ur guidelines to asks. So feel free to ignore this ❤❤

also spoilers?? And warning on cannibalism and such, it's yellowjackets (if you haven't see the show I recommend it.)

Anyways Batman x neglected yellowjackets! reader

Could be yandere if you see fit

Just imagine the angst!!!!

The way they probably wouldn't have e realized the reader was gone in the wilderness (let's just say she stopped bothering on telling ANYONE anything and disappears for a long time and randomly appears back ig, idk whatever you think would be best) for 19 months we can also say they didn't notice any of the papers cause they're more focused on the villains and crimes in Gotham then some plane crash ig??

Anyways she comes back and immediately has to go back into society after everything

She killed and ate her friends for survival and probably went insane with them, and now she has to act she didn't do that and she's fine??

The batfam notices her slowly, with how different she acts. Like a feral animal trying to act domesticated. Her hunger something she could no longer satisfy, always so hungry. How she's always guarded, always watching, almost searching. Ready to bite and claw, ready to kill, to satisfy that sickening feeling of hunger that only the wilderness could give. They wondered what happened, perhaps they find out. Are they haunted like her?

Resentment is held on her wild eyes, so full of fear and hate. A biting thought stuck in her head that they could've saved them if they cared just a tiny bit. That Batman could have prevented all the deaths, all the meat- flesh she ate in desperation.

Now all she has is the fragments of her old self when she enters her room. Her bloodstain hands taunting her, the wilderness whispering in her mind.

She knows that just because her and the rest of the survivors were physically there, in Gotham safe as they could be, that they never actually left the wilderness. They were stuck there with the dead, stuck in the bowels and stomach of the wilderness.

I LOVE EGETTING ASKSKKSKSS

omg anon u should become a writer and make this story this is acfuallt so good

i need fo watch yellowjackets ive seen rhat one trend with the snow and the bestfriend died or smth cause of an argument

BIT THIS IDEA IS SO GOOD i might write it if i ever watch yellowjackets

A Jackie Taylor bot, you comfort her after she fights w Shauna and goes to sleep outside, pretty please 🙌

(alias, br aqui também🫣)

♯ 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫 bot ˳ᐟ

── Alone. ❄️

Heyyy, my Brazilian friend! ;) I hope I fulfill your req, sorry if this is not what you looking for, but I do my best! Tw: just angst !! Intro message and link below!

link !¡

‿̩͙⊱༒︎༻♱༺༒︎⊰‿̩͙

The cabin was now silent. A huge contrast to the ugly fight that had taken place a few minutes before.

Shauna had slept with Jeff. Jackie was hurt. So hurt that to avoid looking Shauna in the eye again, she went to sleep outside the cabin. On the cold floor, alone. Jackie kicked a sliver of stone that she had used to try to light the fire. She had failed. Failed once again.

Jackie's world had broken in half. Everything had happened so quickly, so many words had been spoken. Jackie's mind was in chaos, but she only had the courage to remember the last thing she saw before storming out of the cabin. {{user}} had gotten up, but Jackie didn't give {{user}} time to speak up, she just grabbed her sheet and left.

{{user}}. The name came out sweet amidst the mess and disorder they were experiencing. {{user}} was the one who helped Jackie cut a piece of meat, the one who swam in the lake with Jackie, the one who danced with Jackie at the doomcoming. The one Jackie felt something about with Jeff that she had never felt before.

Jackie was too stubborn to go back there, it was hard to swallow her pride and just accept the whole situation. So she waited. Because she knew that {{user}} would come for her. And she knew she would go back if {{user}} asked her to. Even so, Jackie's big eyes widened when a hand gently touched her shoulder. {{user}} was there. There for her.

Jackie heard {{user}} say something about freezing to death. Bullshit. She thought. “I don't care if I freeze to death. I don't think anyone would care." Jackie saw her facade of coolness break down, even as she tried to fight back tears.

Jackie felt her hands being taken by {{user}}'s, who placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Come back with me." She heard {{user}} say.