Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Reader is implied to like feminine things, though gender identity is kept ambiguous.

Damian was a good brother. That’s what he always told himself. He was a good brother, a good son. He was cold, rude, and erudite, but he was able and willing to help anyone who needed it.

When he arrived at Wayne manor, Bruce told him the general run down of why you were to be avoided when it came to anything vigilante related. You were still pure, a year younger than Damian but without any of the pain. The only one in the Wayne manor that could have a shot at becoming a normal person. Damian envied that, but kept it to himself. His anger often boiled to the top, drops of green venom dripping from his mouth when you tried to annoy him into spending time with you.

Your complaints of him ignoring you was scalding water on his already raw nerves. Why would you complain about not being the center of attention for five damn seconds? He would trade anything for the life you had. A life where you could lay around after school and never worry about a rogue bullet lodging itself in your arm, or a poisonous plant releasing psychedelic spores into an open wound.

You could and would never join the Robins. You were weak; it was in your blood. Always sickly, always the pacifist. You wouldn't survive a day in his life. And you weren't living his life; you were living his dream.

But apparently the effort the family was putting in wasn’t enough.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed that the manor felt… off about two weeks before the fight with Joker. He couldn’t trace it for the life of him at first. When he realized by the second week that he hadn’t spoken to you in days, or really seen you around the manor at all, he wrote off the worms writhing in his stomach. You must’ve been busy with a class assignment and had little time to annoy him with your demands of time together.

After the fight, however, he was a war of a thousand emotions. How dare you leave them? Why would you turn away an easy life fat on nepotism for a group of murderers, con men, the dredges of Gotham’s society?

Were you truly that desperate to be acknowledged that you’d turn your back on the family who did everything for you? He hopes you’re happy there, since you were clearly so upset at not being given attention.

Over time, however, things start to change. A few days after Jason made a full recovery, Damian looked at one of the drones Tim managed to get a chunk of code from. It took a lot of trial and error, and the development of an entirely new program to grab some of the code before it bricked itself, and enough all nighters and energy drinks that any doctor would faint, but it was managed. The code was dense, optimized to work with the least bloat possible, well tagged variables, and even a handful of comments in the code.

//Buy Bane those Boston Donuts from the donut shop on 5th //Why does this code need to be here so it doesn’t auto brick itself. What is in the code protecting it from the wrath of God //Louie likes Texas barbecue ribs. Possible treat? //DO NOT FEED THEM WHOLE RIBS. COOKED BONES BAD. //SINCE WHEN WAS THIS VARIABLE A STRING??? IT WAS AN INT 5 LINES AGO //Help the hopeless lesbians get together. //Would Harley and Ivy dating make Harley my mom or Ivy my big sister? Both???

His eyes skimmed the retrieved comments, laughing at a few. It seems that Bane, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn were the most common subjects of the notes, though a few mentioning the Iceberg lounge asking what non-alchoholic drink you’d like added, or Riddler offering you another puzzle to keep your mind active. Even Joker was mentioned, though it seemed mostly transactional.

It was strange seeing you in this light. You seemed to have a lot of spice in you, but a heart made of gold. You were definitely surprised whenever one othe villains offered to take you on some trip to amusement parks, regular parks, even just willingly watching anime with you. It was odd to see. Surely someone at the house did those things with you? He didn’t but he was extremely busy with school and vigilantism. Jason was legally dead, so surely he had all the time in the world.

“How was I supposed to relate to them? They’re what, 12 and into shit like that one with the cat looking dog thing and the robot girl. I have shit to do. Y’know, managing Crime Alley?”

Well, Dick had come over to hang out plenty of times. Surely he’d spent at least a few hours with you every now and then? “I have an entire team and criminals to manage of in another city, Damian. I don’t have as much time as you think to do whatever it was with them they’d wanted to do”

Maybe Tim? “I have college and stuff, Damian. And I don’t have the energy to put into hanging around them. I’d probably just be sleeping most of the time.

Bruce? “I have to manage you, Gotham, and the Justice League, Damian. I barely have time for myself.”

… Alfred? “I tried, Master Damian. However I’m constantly pulled thin between so many tasks. Besides, all you have is school most days, and you’ve had summer vacations and weekends. Shouldn’t you’ve had plenty of time to spend with your younger sibling?”

… He did have the most time outside of vigilantism. And it took him a week to realize you were missing.

You had to realize that they were under extreme stress though, right?He couldn’t spend all his free time with you. He had his own friends to hang out with. How were you two even supposed to relate?

One day at dinner, the thoughts were thrashing in his head, slamming against soft tissue and tearing through brain matter. He aimlessly poked at the food on his plate.

“You alright, replacement?” Jason asked, pausing in his extremely rare dinners with everyone else. Alfred had promised him a tray of fudge to take home this time around, and nobody made fudge quite as good as he did.

“… They were gone for two weeks.”

Everyone stopped eating as he continued.

“Two weeks. Two full weeks before they showed up at that fight. Did anyone here even know? I only noticed after a week and assumed they were just holed up in their room with a class assignment or something.” He was rambling. Everyone was quiet and looking at each other. How did it manage to slip past everyone? They were detectives, for Christ’s sake.

They were your family.

—

Dinner ended with guilt wrapping around their throats and pulling.

Eventually, all of them found themselves in your room. It had been emptied, but showed no signs of struggle. All the small items, the comforter, and your clothes were gone. But what was taken left something behind. Copies of photos of you winning state level competitions, letters requesting your attendance at seminars, photos of gold medals and blue ribbons spread across the floor. Most damning of all was the most recent photo. A certificate by some big time tech company being handed to you. Edward Nashton stood behind you, a firm, reassuring hand on your shoulder.

When had this happened? They never remembered hearing of something like this. A news clipping on the back told them it was maybe a week before you left.

“The Wayne prodigy stated that their family had more important things to see to than such an occasion. I can’t imagine something more important that either of my kids being recognized by a multi-million dollar tech company! I remember postponing an anniversary with my husband to celebrate our child placing second in the science fair. But I guess that’s just the Waynes for you!”

That’s just the Waynes to you.

But it’s ok. He can make it better. He can be a good big brother. He can spend time watching anime with you and decorating your room with lace and fairy lights and go makeup shopping with you. You just need to come home. Now.

---------------- Taglist! Ask to be added!

@jjsmeowthie , @jsprien213 , @ladyrosemone

Hm.

Bruce is a father at heart, underneath all the layers of pain and lies is a soft man. He can't show it, it's weakness. He wants to be strong for all his babies that have been through so much.

He believes everyone deserves a break, except for him. He believes that hiding your emotions in unhealthy and stupid, but not when he does it. And since it's been so long, so long, since his last crack in the facade he thinks he's okay. Convincing people for so long, he managed to convince himself. Bruce thinks he really is okay, even with the constant paranoia and jolts of pain in his body. Ther was no denying he was aging, his body was no longer as fast as it was used to, but that's fine!

It's fine.

He is fine.

And he's a fine Dad! Sure he's not the best when it comes to communicating...and he may not be the most understanding Dad, but no knes perfect. Parenting comes with challenges, especially when it comes to his kids. But he loves them all!

He thinks he's doing well, and he has. Dick has become a good young man, a cop. Jason's is...more himself, he's reaching out more. Cass has picked up hobbies, made friends, plus her ballet is amazing! Duke makes the Manor more lively, especially with his parents getting better. And Damian...wants to be a doctor.

His kids are moving on with their lives, his youngest deciding to move away from crime fighting as a whole. Sure, Bruce will miss him when patrols get cold but he couldn't be more proud. Of all of them

But deep into night's, especially where its the quiet ones when every light is off and eyes shut, his head starts to hurt. He feels his shoulders drop and his chest tighten. The guilt crashes on to him like some inevitable curse.

If he is a good dad, then why wasn't he one before?

He opens up a box with shaky hands and prays no one is watching him. His fingers linger over the pictures scattered inside, he was a good dad.

But not to you, not to his first.

The child's eyes became dimer and dimer as they aged in the photos, and it was all his fault. At some point, they're just a blur in the background. There was something so...pitiful with the way he just stared at the polaroids. Trying, and failing, to remember your voice.

He didn't have a breaking point, not until you left.

That's why when he hears a name too close to yours his shoulders tense, more than they already are, and his throught goes dry. When someone runs by, their hair the same shade as yours, no one can make him smile for the rest of the day. Not Selina, not Alfred, no one.

And when he looks into a mirror after a bad fight, all he can see is his baby. Sometimes, looking at Damians resting face, he'll get choked up.

How would he react? How would the rest of them react

When the pictures, drawings, cards, when they all reach an end and his face is sticky with tears, he'll curse himself until he sleeps. He'll have nightmares of your angered words, the night you left, the night where the letters stopped.

It was too late.

Hi!! It's me again lol 💕

As much as I love reading neglected reader stories, I'd also love to read about beloved reader stories! Gimme stories where reader is the unspoken favorite of the family, scenarios like:

"I've got a ballet recital later but the tickets are only for 2 family members..."

Cue to the batfam forming teams and having debates on who deserves the tickets more, slowly descending to madness and a possible brawl where the winning pair gets the tickets.

scenario 2:

Reader wakes up in the middle of the night due to a nightmare

The batfam in the batcave seeing reader through the cameras with her teary eyes and tiny hand clutching to a blanket, thinking of which batfam member's room to go to for comfort. The batfam is shoving each other, running to be the first to comfort reader.

'She's sleeping in my room tonight!' they all think

scenario 3:

Reader is highly focused in making an arts and crafts project for school, Dick, curious about what she's doing asks what the theme is,

"My teacher told us to make our hero out of recycled materials!"

The batfam freezes and glares at each other.

'I'm their hero!' they silently tell each other

They then proceed to try to one up each other in winning reader's favor. After an exhausting week of competing with each other, they finally get to see the fruits of their labor in reader's school, scanning through the multiple projects they finally see their name written in crooked crayon... it's the Flash, the Flash is Reader's hero.

"Why??" Tim asks "Your big bro is a genius and the one who helped you with your math homework the past week"

"Cuz he-" Reader then gets distracted by their friend and runs off to play with them.

"Wait! wait! I need to know!" Tim yells in agony, too bad Reader is already playing house with their friends, already forgetting what they were talking about with Tim.

Guess we'll never know

Scenario 4:

Reader's a bit more grown, in middle school.

Reader got in trouble. Why? She defended someone against a bully and then SHE got in trouble for retaliating. She's sniffling outside the principal's office with a bruise and a pouty face, [choose which batfam member goes] sees Reader in her state and asks why she did it.

"They were hurting someone who was smaller than them and couldn't defend themselves...I wanted to be a hero like you" She says with the biggest tear-filled puppy dog eyes.

[Bat member sees red and either: goes off on the principle oooooor...calmly shows their rage with ice-cold revenge]

Imagine if it was Jason lol hahaha

I'd write more but I can't think of any at the moment, I'll probs send more when I think of some! 💕 I'd love to see your take on this 😊

Scenario 1: The Recital War – Toddler Edition

Reader (3 y/o): I only gots two tickets! 🩰✨

Dick: Okay, sweetpea. Who do you wanna pick?

Reader: Hmm…

Damian: kneeling dramatically Beloved sister, consider this: I made thee a sword out of popsicle sticks. We are bonded in blood.

Jason: She watched Encanto with me five times in one night. She called me “Uncle Bruno.”

Steph: I let her paint my nails. They were green, pink, and glue. I still have glitter in my ears.

Tim: She fell asleep on me while I was reading her bedtime stories. I’m her favorite.

Cass: Holds up a finger painting with their names on it She made this for me.

Bruce: stoically handing out opera binoculars and a bouquet of baby roses I support the arts.

Reader: I give da tickets to… MR. FLUFFINGTON 🧸 and AL-FED!! 🥰

Batfam: Screaming, crying, throwing Batarangs

Scenario 2: Nightmare Emergency

Camera Feed:

Reader, tiny and precious, waddling around with her blankie, sniffling and looking like a kicked puppy.

Jason: SHE’S CRYING MOVE

Dick: LET ME THROUGH I DO THE VOICES IN HER STORYBOOKS

Steph: NO I CUDDLED HER FOR FOUR HOURS LAST NIGHT, IT’S MY TURN

Tim: I already pre-heated the microwave bottle, SUCKERS

Damian: Stand aside. I have her dragon plushie. I am the chosen one.

Cass: Has already teleported beside Reader with cookies and fuzzy socks

Bruce (in the background): …Why do we not have a toddler emergency protocol??

Scenario 3: The Hero Assignment (but make it emotional trauma)

Dick: Whatcha makin’, peanut? 🥹

Toddler!Reader (glue in her eyelashes): My hero! Outta trash and sparkles!!

Jason: She’s totally gonna pick me. I gave her a whole leather jacket for dress-up day.

Steph: I let her put stickers on my face for two hours. I earned that title.

Tim: I literally stayed up all night helping her build that paper rocket.

Damian: She called me her “knighty wighty.” I don’t care what anyone says. I win.

Cass: already taping googly eyes onto a cardboard batmask she made together with Reader

Bruce (calm, composed): She is my daughter.

At School:

Teacher: And who is your hero, sweetheart?

Toddler!Reader (grinning, revealing one missing tooth): SUPAMAN!!!! 🦸‍♂️✨💙❤️

Whole Batfam (simultaneously): WHAT.

Jason: drops juicebox in slow motion …She picked that flying corn-fed himbo?

Tim: I— turns off all his tech devices out of heartbreak

Dick: Babe… we watched The Lego Batman Movie together. What did it mean to you??

Steph: I was glitter Batman for Halloween for her.

Damian: tearing up artwork This is a betrayal worse than Julius Caesar’s.

Cass: staring blankly at a Superman balloon floating by …it’s fine.

Bruce: …I need to call Clark. picks up phone with gritted teeth Clark. She said you're her hero.

Clark (from the other end, smug): Aww, she said that? That's so sweet! Tell her Uncle Supes loves her too!

Batfam: SCREAMING INTERNALLY

Later at home:

Jason: Hey… why is Superman your hero, sweetpea?

Toddler!Reader (mid-coloring): Cuz… he picked up my juice box when it falled 😌

Jason: clutching chest I COULD’VE DONE THAT—LET ME REDO MY AUDITION PLEASE—

Scenario 4: Trouble at School

Reader: sitting in the hall with a pout, tear in her eye and a Dora bandage on her cheek

Jason: What happened, baby bat?

Reader: I punched da big kid. He was mean to a widdle one… I wanted to be a hero… like you…

Jason: 🧍‍♂️🔫

Principal: Hello, Mr. Todd, we need to discuss—

Jason: I already paid for her lunch, bought the school, and fired the big kid’s dad. Wanna keep talking?

Reader (from his hip): I gots a popsicle 😋

Jason: She’s a hero. And heroes get popsicles.

Bonus:

"Operation: Juice Box Escape" ft. Toddler!Reader in her Feral Era 😤🧃

Setting: Wayne Manor. 8:03 PM. Post-cookie-denial incident.

Bruce: “No more cookies, sweetheart. You already had three.”

Toddler!Reader (3 y/o, betrayed, betrayed like Mufasa): …Okay.

Five Minutes Later…

Alfred (noticing the silence): Sir… have you seen the young miss?

Cut to: Security Cam Footage – Toddler!Reader, dead serious, wearing sunglasses, a glittery Dora backpack, and a tutu, marching toward the door dragging her stuffed duck by the wing.

Inside the backpack:

6 juice boxes

2 teddy bears

A tiara

Bruce’s credit card

One cookie (stolen)

Reader (muttering to herself): I runnin' ‘way. Gonna live wif Super-man. He gimme cookies.

Batfam:

Tim (on the computer): Security breach detected—WAIT THAT’S HER.

Jason: Did she just say she’s going to live with Clark?? NOT ON MY WATCH.

Dick: Get the car!! I’ll bring the plushies!!

Damian: I TOLD YOU ALL TO INSTALL TODDLER-SIZED MOTION SENSORS.

Steph: already halfway out the door My BABY is FLEEING.

Meanwhile, on the sidewalk…

Toddler!Reader: sipping a juice box and holding out her thumb like she saw in a movie I hitchin’ a wide.

Random Driver: Uh—do you need help, little—

Jason (pulls up in the Batmobile): BACK OFF, SHE HAS TWO LEGAL GUARDIANS AND A NINJA FAMILY.

Toddler!Reader (arms crossed): You no let me eat da cookie.

Jason: Baby, we’ll buy you an entire bakery, just come back inside.

Reader: I wanna live wif Super-man. He NICE. He say I strong.

Bruce (arriving, out of breath): I’LL BUY YOU THE SUN. JUST NOT CLARK. PLEASE.

Later that night:

Reader is peacefully sleeping in Jason’s hoodie, surrounded by six plushies, two Batboys snoring on the floor, and one glittery crown on her head.

Cass (whispering): She has a cookie in her pocket.

Damian: Let her keep it. She earned it.

✨ BONUS QUOTE ✨

Reader (drowsy): Next time… I bring more juice.

Bruce (tucking her in): Next time, take me with you.

A/N: I think I got a bit carried away<3

ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ

ꜰɪᴄꜱ (1k+ words) —

ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇꜱᴛ ʜᴏᴜʀ — ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱʜᴀᴜɴᴀ, ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀ ʜᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ɪᴛ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ.

ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ — ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ʜᴀʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴊᴀᴄᴋɪᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ.

ʙʟᴜʀʙꜱ (under 1k) —

tfem jackie. cw. blowjob, slight overstimulation, p in v sex, anal sex. dom!reader, sub!jackie. mdni.

𐙚 i imagine her having a small cock <3 the tip gets soo red and drooly when she's hard. and she's incredibly sensitive.

𐙚 you loooove sucking her off. she gets so squirmy that you have to hold her legs down. sometimes when you want to tease her you blow some air against her tip which makes her whine loudly and tremble, begging you to "please put it in your mouth already".

𐙚 she gets hard pretty easily, too (and, of course, you take advantage of that). just give her a good, long look from head to toe, and her breath's already hitching in her throat as her eyes widen, face beet red from embarrassment. imagine you're at a party, dancing with her, and your ass grinds against her front just right, making her feel a boner growing under her skirt, so she tries to take a step back from you (not because she doesn't want you, but because she knows you're going to tease the living hell out of her), which makes you turn to face her and pout, not-so-innocently saying "what, you don't wanna dance with me?". she then drags you to the nearest bathroom to suck her off.

𐙚 don't even get me started when you're riding her. she'd be splayed back on the bed, body covered in a thin sheet of sweat. "don't come yet. hold it in." you say breathlessly as you bounce on top of her. her eyes are closed shut and she's biting her lower lip in concentration so hard she almost makes herself bleed. poor thing, she's actually trying. but how can she last long when you're clenching around her like that? her hands fly to grip your hips tightly, trying to hold you still. "s-slow down, please!" you just grin in response as you keep moving on top of her, and soon you feel her filling you up as she moans loudly. she pants and whimpers as you keep bouncing on her poor cock. "nngh! too much!" "c'mon baby, just wait a bit more for me, yeah? good girl."

𐙚 maybe maybe thinking about her wanting you to be her first when it comes to her ass..... her face is bright red and she's fidgeting with her fingers nervously, but after lots of reassurance and lotsss of time prepping her, you give her the absolute best backshots of her life until she's drooling on the pillow.

–BRING BACK THE DEAD UNIVERSE!

WARNING : emotional neglect, kidnapping, murder, physical abuse/torture, obsessive behavior, schizophrenia, self-harm(?), more will be added.

NOTE : If you are sensitive to the subject matter, leave immediately! Please provide any feedback so that I can improve. Just don't go off the deep end by telling me to commit suicide because you don't like my writing, okay? Thanks! :)

🪐–CHAPTER

1 – Working for the knife

2 – there's nothing left for you

TIMELESS

summary: what if neglected character was well-loved in our universe despite being so hated in her own?

(spin-off neglected reader x batfam)

DC readers were eating up the comic run, but it really got a big hit when Batman, on one of his infamous runs, met this homeless family , neglected character's family, and offered to raise the neglected character till they were 18 out of false pity.

So this HC is essentially us , the readers; the 4th wall is essentially reading comics , specifically those about the Batfamily.

So the Batfamily comics are released by this huge company called DC , where a man named Bruce Wayne tragically lost his family one night and, filled with rage and vengeance, became Batman.

The comic's continued run continues on, and we, the readers, read how he met every Robin and learn about their pasts ,growths, etc, from Dick's tragic start to Jason's demise. Tim's rather conflicting start and Damian's controversial add-in.

The company hadn't expected so many readers (us) to like this seemingly normal person. I mean, come on, the neglected character can barely tie her own shoelaces properly and is literally so socially awkward.

This, of course, backfires immensely since a lot of DC readers really like neglected character because of how easily relatable they are to the big audience .

Neglected character was originally added to the family as, like, a punchline and for filler purposes, especially for Damian and Jason to appear more vibrant and more in touch with the audience and since they were running out of ideas and thought batman saving neglected character could be a moment.

There was also a whole separate run for Bruce and Tim with neglected character—they were talking about some complex time travel whatnots to explain a sudden time jump in the comics, and poor neglected reader was just there as a punchline because she was too 'dumb' to understand what they weee talking about .This backfired on them, of course—it turned into a massive meme about how 'shit is so confusing even our goat (neglected character) can't understand this shii.

At this point in the actual comics, things were getting frisky in the family. The Batfam literally starts despising neglected character so much. She's literally a nobody who doesn't even try to do anything like saving gotham like them, and they're so much better than her, so why is she getting all the love ?

Like, seriously, why would anyone want to like some lowlife who can't solve cold cases in two days, do crazy backflips, and knows ancient martial arts techniques and ancient languages? Oh! Did they forget to mention they can do anything? Side note: they can !

DC really tried to push the Batfam propaganda for a while, trying to manipulate us readers into liking them, but it's so hard too when we as the general audience can't even relate to them.

Thus, neglected character's fanbase grew exponentially—literally to the point where DC had to make their own solo because of the high demand .

Neglected character whose whole solo run was just them trying to find themselves and distance themselves from how hateful and harmful the Batfam are—especially Jason and Damian. Literally, their run was just them helping people, like a close friend getting over a bad ex, to helping this one grandma open a bottle of ketchup.

Their run made a big hit—loads of readers loved how normal and relatable the neglected character is! Especially how she grows to love herself for being normal and just living for herself, which touched a lot of readers' hearts.

Due to the neglected character's striking popularity , the company literally had to somehow mention her name or her existence everywhere in every run they make in order for it to be successful .

Oh, Tim Drake is getting a solo run? Let's put the neglected character in the background of the cover so people can pick it up to read. Oh, Damian and Batman are going on a duo adventure? Let's add a scene in the trailer where they mention the character's name once so people can flock to theaters to actually watch their movie.

Jason and Nightwing are getting their own animated series? Let's have a short ten-second clip of them discussing a plan and name-walking in the background so people can actually care about the series .

Literally the entire Batfam's popularity and relevancy are dependent on neglected character because whenever DC tries not to mention or include them, readers and viewers, respectively, don't engage with it, and it turns into a huge flop.

There are literally a hundred videos on YouTube where they all discuss who the strongest/best hero in the Batfam is, and the neglected character always wins , despite not even being a vigilante, because 'the goat (neglected character) just needs a bad day and a reason to crash out, and ain't no one in the Batfam can stop them' , ' Give my Goat (neglected character) a bat and a reason to crashout and she'd no-diff the entire villains cast in Gotham' , ' Personally if neglected reader was there , this situation would of never happened ' ,' TRUST NEGLECTED CHARACTER IS GONNA SHOW UP AND COOK JUST WAIT ' , ' NEGLECTED CHARACTER PLEASE SAVE US FROM WHATEVER THIS IS '.

Like, the Batfam is really starting to despise neglected character even more because, seriously, what does she have that they don't? And the neglected character couldn't give a damn because they are on their 20th comic issue where they are going to Spain with their classmates and they somehow save their airplane from crashing by accidentally falling into the cockpit and somehow hitting a random button that stabilizes the plane.

Safe to say DC readers and neglected reader fans are eating this shit up while Batfam seethes.

DC might have accidentally fucked up by making a run where Batfam gets so jealous they go out of their way to hunt neglected character and kill them, but due to leakers leaking the run and fans literally rioting, boycotting, and slandering the company, the company literally had to discard the whole issue and release an apology statement .

People took to the net by storm, even those who never read the comics in their life were leaving comments such as 'Ain't no way they tried killing my goat (neglected character),' Ayo bro, what is this ??,' 'LEAVE NEGLECTED CHARACTER ALONE,' and 'Tis pmo, man.'

It's safe to say DC indirectly created a literal icon of a character, and they can't kill them off or make any drastic changes to her character, or her fans will cook them alive.

Batfam slowly starts realizing their mistake in hating the neglected character and begins obsessing with her , trying to earn her favor, while the neglected character is just genuinely confused because since when do they check up on her?

ty for reading , pls comment , like and share !!

Taglist : @1abi

😭 Thank you so so so so so much for writing my request!! There's absolutely no rush with this I just wanted to ask another one, Because I'm kind of obsessed with your work-

Perhaps Jackie Taylor X Reader where they have been married for a long time. Like 10 plus years. She wakes up ready to go to work but their reading is standing in the kitchen, And it reminds Jackie of when they were so young and in love. It just makes her fall in love with the reader all over again and she decides she just has to take the reader and eat her out on the counter!

-🦜

── RUNNING HOME TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS

— summary: slow mornings with jackie.

— warnings: established relationship/marriage. fem!reader. domestic fluff & nsfw content. mdni.

jackie stretches as she wakes, letting consciousness settle over her slowly. the sheets are warm, cocooning her in their familiar weight, too tempting to leave just yet. from the other room, the quiet sounds of morning drift in; the rustle of pages turning, the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic.

jackie’s muscles, untrained but prominent from years of soccer in highschool and college, uncoil as she turns her head toward your side of the bed. it’s empty but still holds the warmth of you, the shape of your body faintly imprinted on the freshly washed sheets. not gone long, then. she smiles to herself, fingertips tracing the dip where you had been.

a soft weight presses against her shin, pulling her from the last remnants of sleep. glancing down, jackie finds your cat curled at the foot of the bed, paws tucked neatly under its chin. she reaches out, running her fingers over its soft fur, scratching lightly between its ears. the cat barely stirs, only flicking its tail once before sinking deeper into sleep. even after all these years, it still favors you.

with another stretch, she swings her legs over the side of the bed, the morning air cool against her skin. reaching for the worn sweater draped over the chair, jackie tugs it on quickly. yours, technically, but she’s long since claimed it as her own in the mornings. the fabric is too large on her, with sleeves hanging way past her hands, but it smells like you and the lavender laundry detergent you always buy and feels more comforting than any of her own clothes.

once she pulls it over her head and untangles her limbs from the sheets, she moves from the bedroom. jackie already knows exactly where she’ll find you.

as she walks through the hallway, she passes all the little signs of your life together: the framed photo from your honeymoon hangs slightly crooked on the wall, something you always insist you’ll fix but never do. tucked into the frame is a worn polaroid from your first apartment, covering a small crack in the glass. in it, jackie is holding up a wine glass, while you’re caught mid-laugh, leaning into her the same way you always have, even in the wedding photos that follow further down the hall.

the entryway table holds a vase of dried flowers, a bouquet she had given you months ago, now preserved because you couldn’t throw them out. nearby, a small stack of mail she keeps meaning to sort through, books piled beside it, some hers, some yours, overlapping in the same way your lives always have. it’s a cozy kind of mess, one that makes her smile even in passing.

and then there’s you, the centerpiece of jackie’s existence now, standing in the kitchen, bathed in the light that spills through the curtains.

you’re still in your nightgown, its hem skimming the curve of your thighs, and your hair is a little mussed from sleep. one hand cradles a mug, while the other flips absently through a book on the counter, your lips quirking every so often at whatever you’re reading while you wait for the eggs to cook.

jackie freezes in the doorway to watch you for a bit.

it’s been over a decade. over ten years of this, of waking up and falling asleep to you, learning every single one of your habits, and still, she finds herself caught off guard by how much she loves you and how much she still wants you, in all the ways that matter.

she remembers mornings like this from the beginning, back when you were both in high school, and time alone was a rare thing. the only moments you had to yourselves then were tucked into the short window between her parents leaving for work and shauna pulling up to drive you both to school.

everything felt like new territory back then. your presence in her house had meant rushed breakfasts at the kitchen counter, stolen kisses between sips of coffee in the too-large home of the taylors, always cut short by the sound of an approaching car and the reality that you couldn’t stay.

now, here you are, still stealing her breath away.

you glance up as if sensing your wife, and your face softens into a smile. jackie swallows, her heart doing something embarrassingly teenage in her chest.

“you’re staring,” you tease, taking a sip of your tea. jackie hums, pushing off the doorframe and crossing the room. “can’t help it,”

you laugh. before you can say anything else, she’s there, warm hands finding your waist, pulling you into her. sighing into the touch, you instinctively set your mug down on the counter as she buries her face against your neck and breathes you in.

“mhm, good morning to you too mrs (y/l/n),” you murmur.

god, jackie never tires of hearing that: your name, now hers.

it had never even been a question. the moment it came up in a long conversation spent curled up bare under the sheets of the cottage where she’d proposed, jackie knew. you had tilted your head, fingers tracing lazy patterns against her shoulder, and asked, ‘so, what do we do about names?’ she had just shrugged, as if the answer was the simplest thing in the world. ‘i’ll take yours’

and that was that. no hesitation or second thoughts, just certainty, like so many things when it came to you.

“you still like the sound of that, huh?” you tilt your head enough for her to kiss you properly.

“best decision i ever made,” jackie whispers, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. she can feel your smile against her lips in response.

“aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for work?”

she lets her hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt. “i changed my mind…”

“oh?”

“yeah. i think i’d rather stay here,”

you hum, and your fingers move into the hair at the nape of her neck, tugging just enough to make jackie sigh against your mouth.

she always knows where you need her before you do yourself, and her hands slide further up beneath the silky fabric, over warm skin, cupping all of your breasts in her palms. her teeth graze your bottom lip just enough to make you whine into her. she swallows the sound greedily, tilting her head to kiss you deeper, her fingers tightening like she wants to pull you even closer. like close will never be close enough.

just as smoothly as she works your lips apart to slip her tongue in, she hooks her hands under your thighs and lifts you onto the counter. with a startled laugh, you let her move you. jackie grins when she steps between your legs, roaming the expanse of your bare thighs.

“easy,” you tease.

jackie’s palms caress up your parted thighs, the heat of her touch leaving a trail in its wake until settling firm at your hips. she holds you there and you exhale against her, fingers slipping back into her hair, curling it in your fists.

your legs tighten around her waist, pulling her in closer until jackie swears under her breath, clearly feeling the warmth that radiates from your center. she breaks the kiss just long enough to press her forehead against yours, breathing heavy, lips agape.

“you,” she accuses with her index poking your sides. “are trying to kill me here!”

“i’m not doing anything!” you protest.

jackie scoffs, quick to steal another kiss. then another. and another, like she has all the time in the world. right when you’re sure she’s going to lose herself entirely, the kitchen timer beeps.

the eggs.

for half a second, jackie looks almost offended at the rude interruption, but then your head drops against her shoulder and your body shakes with laughter. she groans, but your laughter is contagious, and soon enough, she’s laughing too.

jackie doesn’t let go of you, blindly reaching behind herself to fumble for the stove dial until she manages to turn it off.

“you’re just going to leave them sitting there?”

she nods, lips trailing down your jaw again so her voice comes out muffled. “they’ll survive”

you wrap your arms around her shoulders whilst she kisses her way back to your mouth.

jackie’s fingers fumble with the tie of your nightgown, working it open without needing to break the kiss. years spent learning where to tug and pull to free you from your clothes are to blame, the different motions muscle memory by now.

no matter how familiar jackie is with your body, she will never not take her time savoring the sight of you: you’re not wearing anything underneath, save for a thin pair of panties, so with the way she’s pushed the gown open your chest is on full display.

“so pretty,” she purrs, already closing the distance again. her hands cup your breasts, rolling your nipples gently at the same time as she’s kissing you. jackie’s mouth wanders to the side of your throat, then further down.

there’s no longer need for claim, for desperate encounters that aim to prove something. jackie will occasionally enjoy ravishing you (sinking her teeth in your flesh until the skin between them bruises all while she’s really fucking you), but it has become this for the most part: gentle lovemaking whenever you have the chance, still unable to keep your hands off of each other.

her lips briefly graze over the valley between your breasts, then slide below your belly button as she lowers her weight to the ground in front of you. with a smile, you cup one side of her face, taking your own share of time to admire your wife.

jackie doesn’t let you have a lot of it, though: before you know it, her mouth is on the fabric of your underwear and your head falls back against the wall as she feels you up with her tongue and lips, pressing in the places she’s memorized by heart.

“is that okay?” she breathes against you, still fully clothed, but aching with want.

“mhm,” you tighten your grip and jackie, who sighs happily in response and reaches out to peel your panties off. she’s careful with it, making sure you won’t slide off the counter while she lifts one leg after the other, just to pocket the underwear once that is done.

an invitation would not be necessary, and still, you spread your legs wider, not out of urgency but trust, shame and self consciousness long outgrown.

she has seen you in every state, knows every scar, every curve, every place where time has left its mark and, still, jackie looks at you like you are the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. her hands brush over skin she’s traced a thousand times before, never with any less reverence.

you look down just in time to find jackie pressing a first kiss to your mound, her ragged breath ghosting over your soaked sex that pulses impatiently lower.

with the index and middle finger of her right hand parted, she runs them through you, spreading your labia open in awe. a breathless sound tears from your throat, aware of how easily her digits slide through your wetness.

“come on,” you urge, lifting a leg over her shoulder. easier access.

jackie complies; her lips are parted when she presses them against you, applying just the right amount of pressure. the moan you let out at the first contact is loud and ragged, echoing through the kitchen.

“right there,” you cry.

right there, not because jackie needs guidance but because you know she loves it when you’re open. loud. when you let her know that she’s making you feel good, whether it is by letting your moans slip or by praising her verbally.

the vibrations of the noise she makes in response go straight to your core, more arousal dripping for her mouth to drink up hungrily. it is coating her, slick and wet as she traces over your clit and swirls in clockwise circles.

for a while, jackie eats you out like this, getting lost in your taste just like you are in the sensations of her tongue flicking from side to side, licking broad strokes through you, then fucking into you deep.

her hair, a little longer now but still the same golden brown she’s been maintaining, clings to the thin film of sweat on her forehead in delicate strands, proof that she’s just as affected by what she’s doing to you, whilst her neatly manicured nails dig into your flesh. soft pastel pink almond shapes drag lines of red down the side of your thighs, goosebumps and shivers rising from the touch.

“you taste so good” she says softly once, then leans right back in to continuously flick your clit.

you can tell she’s toying with you, avoiding your most sensitive spots with purpose, only ever ghosting it briefly until you’re grinding yourself against her face in frustration you cannot contain. she knows exactly what you would need to get close to the edge, pretends to give it to you, then withdraws once pleasure starts building up.

“jackie,” you whine.

between your legs, she holds your gaze, reaches out and runs a hand through your folds. when she tilts her head, asking for permission silently, you immediately nod and jackie pushes forward, two fingers sinking into the heat of your cunt.

this draws the loudest moan from you yet, though you wouldn’t dare to try and stifle it.

that’s a habit you’ve long since left behind, discarded like the passed down furniture and mismatched dishes from your first apartment. then, everything had been hushed, kisses stolen behind locked doors, moans muffled into pillows. the walls were thin, the neighbors close, and the fear of being overheard turned every moment into a careful mix of restraint and want.

in the home you live in now, there are no walls to mind, no need to press a fist to your mouth to quiet yourself. here, you are free to gasp when jackie’s lips press against your clit, free to let her love you without reservation.

jackie has taken her mouth off of you to watch the way your face contorts in pleasure as she rubs the tips of her fingers against your g-spot, allowing you to see the arousal smeared across the lower half of her face, glistening beautifully in the light.

she’s moaning too, quieter and less desperate of course, but moaning all the same when she feels the way you flutter around her as though she could actually get off from this. your pleasure had always been jackie’s, too.

“good?” she rasps.

“mhm,” you lift your head from the wall behind you, watching in awe as jackie puts her tongue back to where you want it. you don’t even know what it is about jackie’s mouth but she could probably make you cum from nothing but gentle kisses if she tried, always knowing exactly where to move to coax the most pleasure from your body.

her hair curls up between your fingers when she starts sucking on your clit gently, drawing a contented hum from her mouth.

the words jackie is saying morph into muffled babbles against your cunt, her voice white noise to the pleasure that sets your nerve endings alight as she sucks, her eyes rolling back in their sockets at the taste of you.

“jackie” you gasp, your hips pushing further into her face. an unreleased tension starts building in your abdomen, making your whole body tremble wildly.

“are you close love?” jackie asks, her fingers thrusting into you at a faster pace. “it’s okay,” she sits back on her heels to look at you, her hand making up for the momentary loss of her mouth. “i got you. just let go”

your free hand reaches for hers, fingers lacing together so that she can give you one long squeeze. jackie’s mouth starts sucking your clit harsher, pushing into you deeper, making your walls clench around her fingers. the sensation is so much. it’s not nearly enough. it’s perfect, sending you over the edge in mere seconds.

with a strangled cry of jackie’s name, you cum against the feeling of her mouth on your clit and her fingers buried deep inside you. her voice feels distant as pleasure rushes through your veins.

“that’s it” jackie praises, holding you through your orgasm. “oh my god, that’s it. fuck, you’re so beautiful” she talks you through the entire height, her voice cracking whilst she watches you fall apart and come undone. she continues her licking and sucking too, until you comfortably move her head away, spent and on the verge of overstimulation.

with a wet pop, she releases your throbbing clit and presses a last kiss to your knee before rising to her feet. you’re still perched on the counter, catching your breath, warmth buzzing under your skin.

jackie reaches for the edges of your nightgown next, making quick work of pulling the fabric back together, tying it loosely at your waist. you watch her fuss over it with amusement, as if she hadn’t just spent the last several minutes undoing it in the first place. “very modest of you”

“someone’s gotta keep you decent,” she quips, a teasing smile on her lips as she slots herself back between your legs, hands settling at your waist. the kiss that follows is slow and sweet, her mouth still carrying the taste of you. jackie lingers until the soft scent of something cooking reminds you of the world beyond her touch.

your gaze flickers past her to the stove, where the eggs still sit, long forgotten. “so...you still want breakfast?”

jackie glances over her shoulder at the abandoned pan, then back at you, considering. “i mean, we did work up an appetite, huh?”

you roll your eyes, swatting at her arm playfully before slipping down from the counter. she doesn’t let you go far, her hands finding your waist again as she stands behind you, holding you close while you move around the kitchen.

girlfriend? jackie taylor ೃ࿔*:

jackie taylor x fem!reader

every time you and jackie go out you get asked if you’re a couple, and for the first time jackie doesn’t bother to correct them.

(jackie might be kinda ooc but idc)

It happens at a party.

Jackie had been the one to drag you there—obviously. She always did. She had this way of making it sound like fun, of making you feel like you’d actually be missing out if you said no.

“Come on,” she had said earlier, linking her arm through yours as she flashed that bright, effortless grin—the one that made people bend to her will without even realizing it. “It won’t be the same without you.”

And like always, you caved.

Because that’s what you do.

You follow Jackie into the chaos of red solo cups and bad decisions, standing a little too close, listening to her talk, pretending you don’t memorize every laugh.

Because that’s what you’ve always done.

It’s late now, the house full, the music loud enough to shake the walls. Jackie had taken you by the wrist earlier and led you through the crowd, pulling you into conversation after conversation, always keeping you near.

You’re standing in the kitchen now, half-listening to some girl from Jackie’s English class ramble about her latest crush.

Jackie’s beside you, casually sipping from a red cup, her hand resting lightly against your arm. She’s always been touchy—grabbing your wrist, looping her arm through yours, hooking her chin over your shoulder when she’s bored.

You’re used to it.

Or at least, you pretend to be.

And then, mid-sentence, the girl glances between you and Jackie and just—says it.

“You two are such a cute couple.”

It’s casual, an offhand comment, like she doesn’t even think twice about it.

And for a second, neither of you say anything.

You expect Jackie to roll her eyes, to scoff, to wave it away like she always does when people assume things about her. Like she always has before.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, Jackie just smiles.

It’s not a big thing. Not an obvious, earth-shattering moment.

It’s barely anything.

But it makes your stomach drop all the same.

Because Jackie Taylor hates clichés.

She hates the predictable, the obvious, the expected. She’s spent her entire life curating herself, making sure she’s always in control of how people see her.

And yet—she doesn’t correct them.

Doesn’t laugh it off, doesn’t even glance at you like she’s expecting you to jump in.

She just lets it sit there.

She looks at you, not at the girl who said it.

Like she’s waiting.

Like she’s expecting something.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

Later, when the party has died down and the air outside is crisp with autumn, the two of you walk home together, arms brushing with every step.

Jackie hasn’t mentioned it.

Neither have you.

But the silence feels different.

Like something is hanging between you, something that wasn’t there before.

At one point, Jackie exhales softly and says, “Hey.”

And you think—this is it.

She’s going to bring it up. She’s going to laugh about it, make some joke, maybe tease you for looking so flustered.

But she doesn’t.

She just hesitates.

And then, finally—“Never mind.”

You swallow.

Jackie’s not like this. She’s not hesitant, not uncertain. She always knows exactly what to say.

But now?

Now, she just tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and keeps walking.

Like she almost said something, too.

When you say goodnight, she lingers.

Just for a second.

And as she turns to go, she bumps her shoulder against yours and murmurs—too soft, too knowing—

“You didn’t correct her either.”

And then she’s gone.

Leaving you standing there, heart racing, wondering if you imagined it.

Wondering if maybe, just maybe—

She’s been waiting for this, too.

hc! jackie has a crush on you and she doesn't hide it well.

jackie taylor x fem!reader

summary: jackie having a painfully obvious crush on you while you remain completely oblivious.

warnings: characters are aged up, oblivious reader, jackie being possessive, jealous, clingy and over-the-top affectionate, jackie being awkwardly sweet, jackie as the most dramatic lesbian alive, not proofread.

a.n: oh hi! its been a long time...

jackie taylor, the golden girl of wiskayok high, was not known for being subtle. like, at all.

when she developed a crush on you? game over. everyone could tell. the team knew. her parents probably knew. heck, even the cafeteria staff were rooting for her. everyone... except you.

she would insist on walking you to every single class, even if her next one was on the other side of the building. "it's fine, I need the cardio," she’d say, hair bouncing as she kept pace with you.

whenever you sat together at lunch, jackie always had some excuse to sit as close as humanly possible. your thighs would brush, and she’d casually drape an arm behind you on the bench like this was some romcom where she was the suave lead.

her attempts at giving you compliments were both endearing and slightly chaotic. “that shirt looks really good on you! not that it wouldn’t look good off— wait, no, not like that!” cue her face turning an alarming shade of red as she stammered, completely flustered.

jackie was all about grand gestures. she'd bring you your favorite snacks without asking, even if it meant "borrowing" them from her teammates' lockers. r she'd "accidentally" sign you up as her partner for every school project ever. that was probably just her 'marking territory'.

her jealousy was comically bad. if someone so much as looked at you for longer than five seconds, jackie would swoop in like a hawk, throwing an arm around your shoulders and flashing her biggest, most obviously fake smile. "Oh hey, let’s go! you promised to help me with... uh, math homework!” (she had a solid A in math, by the way. that girl is smart.)

sometimes, her crush got the better of her, and she’d trip over her own words. “so... you wanna make out? i mean go out— I mean, hang out? like friends! or more than friends! or—" you’d just laugh it off, assuming she was being her usual goofy self, while she tried not to combust on the spot.

her teammates would not let her hear the end of it. “just tell her already!” van would groan during practice. “she’s not that clueless.” jackie would shoot them a death glare because, in her mind, this was a delicate, slow-burn process. it's all about romance!

she wasn’t above using petnames to test the waters. “hey, sweetheart, pass me that notebook?” she’d grin when you handed it over, your only response being a confused, “uh, sure?” her heart would leap even at that small acknowledgment.

one time, during a party, someone asked if you two were dating. jackie nearly choked on her drink while you laughed and said, “no way, we’re just friends!” jackie’s forced laugh after that? absolutely tragic.

despite all her awkwardness and dramatic flair, jackie genuinely adored you. she’d memorize all your quirks, from the way you scrunched your nose when you were deep in thought to how your laugh sounded when you found something genuinely funny.

if anyone asked her why she liked you so much, she’d have an entire list ready: you were smart, kind, gorgeous, and somehow still completely oblivious to the fact that she was hopelessly in love with you.

spoiler alert: eventually, her feelings would spill out in the most unplanned, dramatic way possible. probably during an argument where she’d blurt out, “because I like you, okay?!” only to immediately cover her mouth in horror.

and even though you’d be stunned into silence for a moment, when you finally smiled and said, “you should’ve just said so sooner,” all her embarrassment would melt away in an instant.

because, honestly? it was all worth it for you.

post planecrash!

after the crash, jackie’s crush intensifies tenfold. with no distractions like school or soccer, all her attention is on you, which becomes very obvious to everyone.

jackie insists on sticking close to you at all times. “we need to stay in pairs, it’s safer that way,” she’d argue, even though it’s clear she just wants to keep you within arm’s reach.

she’d hoard little things she finds that might make your life easier, like an extra blanket or berries she foraged. she’d always frame it like it’s no big deal: “i just thought you’d want this, that’s all.”

jealous jackie? oh, it’s dialed up to 100. if someone else offers to help you with something, jackie will immediately swoop in. “she doesn’t need your help, i’ve got it covered.” even though she could barely lift a bucket of water.

arguments would break out among the group about leadership and survival, but jackie’s main concern? you. she’d constantly check in on you, asking if you’re warm enough, if you’ve eaten, or if you’re scared.

shauna would initially try to protect jackie’s secret, but even she’d get tired of the whole thing. “jackie, just tell her. you’re already risking frostbite just to sit next to her by the fire.”

during the long, cold nights, jackie would find excuses to be near you. “body heat is the best way to stay warm,” she’d say, but the blush on her cheeks would give her away. that damn fag. (affectionate :D)

if you ever got hurt or sick, jackie would lose her mind. she’d hover over you like a worried mother hen, snapping at anyone who wasn’t taking your condition seriously enough. “she needs rest! and better food! and-” you’d have to calm her down before she worked herself into a frenzy.

and even though the wilderness is brutal and unforgiving, in that moment, her confession would feel like the warmest thing in the world.