Cuddle Bug
Cuddle Bug
summary: a flashfic exploration of Wally's inability to be anything but a plural image when you're within reach. aka: he's codependent as fuck and neither you nor he care.
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: fluff. smut lite. AU - everyone is alive (zesty). lore established offscreen.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🍃
Wally Clark's love language is physical touch. No surprise there. The guy needs cuddles like flowers need sunlight to thrive. Always has. Being a ghost for 40 years exacerbated that need, and now that he's a real boy again, he can't help himself. Wally sits too close, hugs hello and goodbye, touches arms and knees when he's telling a story.
It's just that much more amped up when it comes to you.
He was affectionate before you and he became inseparable. Lightly grazed your hand when he walked beside you, found every excuse to tackle you when he tried to teach you football techniques. Ajay and Charley stood there like extra wheels even though it'd been Wally who'd rallied everyone to the field.
What? Your giggle's so damn cute! No way was Wally going to be able to focus on anything else!
Besides Charley's just as bad when Yuri's around, and Simon can't even function when Maddie gives him the eyes. So, everyone can suck it as far as Wally's concerned.
During group activities, Wally would find a way to sit next to you. Would squish his long limbs between you and Maddie and give you a bright, boyish grin. Sometimes he'd stare Xavier down until he got the hint and scooched closer to Nicole at the lunch table, leaving a gap that Wally could settle into beside you. His arm around your shoulders and his knee touching yours. Totally innocent.
Wally brought your favorite snacks to Game Night, established himself as your personal chauffeur despite the fact that you lived closer to Simon and Rhonda, and loyally helped you filter clothes when you and the girls went shopping. Yes. He'd made himself one of the girls just to spend time with you. Don't look at him like that; it worked, didn't it? 👀
Since accepting him as your boyfriend (he grins so big, his cheeks ache), Wally's dependence on your touch, warmth, shape against his, has increased a hundredfold.
You sit on the picnic table before the first bell, chatting to Maddie and Claire about something Wally isn't listening to, his arms around your waist, upper body slumped between your legs, head resting on your thigh as you rake your fingers through his thick hair. Oh, he could die all over again and be the happiest of ghosts just for this. Not that he wants to be a ghost again. Not unless you're with him this time. Which would require you to die, too, and that's a terrible thought and he's never going to tell you about it. But the sentiment remains. Wally doesn't want to do anything without you, ever.
He managed to convince the secretary to put him in all your classes, pouting and pleading his case that he'd been dead since 1983 and, "it's so traumatic coming back, she's the only thing I have that feels real...please?" A tactic that he should stop abusing, but it worked on all the teachers when he requested to be sat next to you. Every time a teacher caved, Wally would fold into the desk beside you, beaming like a winner. And who cares? Mina and Ajay, and Charley and Yuri pulled the same doe-eyed trick and got what they wanted, why couldn't Wally do the same?
On Fridays, everyone piles into Wally's high school best friend's living room—Rodney now Wally's legal guardian for reasons—to have movie marathons. There's trivia to guess the movie. Winner gets one veto and can insert their own choice, but there's three movies in total so pick wisely! They figured out awhile ago that Wally sometimes (always) lets you win trivia when it's his turn to play his lineup. You never veto anything, equally as eager to watch what he opts for. It drives Simon and Ajay insane.
He takes over a whole couch, the three-seater, sprawls long-ways and tucks you between his legs, your body draped over him like a blanket as he wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go for anything. He traces patterns on your back, cradles your head against his chest, soaks up the physical contact like a sponge after years of ghostly numbness.
In the school halls, Wally keeps his hand on your hip. He kisses your head and cheeks and jaw. Doesn't care who sees because you're his girl and he'll do what he wants, thank you. He's proud that you call him yours and wants to show off who his heart belongs to. This one! This one said yes!
You're in his lap more than your own seat when the group descends upon Max's Diner after football games (that, no, Wally doesn't participate in. That era is firmly in the past and he'll never don a jersey again; sorry mom, God bless, rest in peace). His hands are all over you as you engage Rhonda in conversation; on your thighs, waist, back, hips. Anywhere and everywhere that's still appropriate in public. His head under your chin, eyes closed as he listens to your heartbeat, strong and steady, the rhythm matching his.
Wally rolls over in his bed, crushes you beneath his weight as he plays dead—knock on wood that that won't happen again for many years—and tries to stifle his laughter when you struggle to reverse the position. Eventually, he showers your skin with kisses, nudges between your thighs and laces his fingers with yours, pressing his smile to yours before kissing you deeply.
The sex is amazing, but nothing beats the afterglow when he has you pliant and sweet, curled into him on your side, your face in his chest, his hand on your lower back, whispering how much he loves you as you doze. Call him codependent, but Wally doesn't want to spend even an hour without you. He isn't a lost puppy, knows how to behave like a man. He just spent too many years being forgotten that he still has trust issues.
And you don't mind. You welcome it, in fact, and that makes Wally feel safer than he ever has. It makes it easy to ignore the looks people give you and him when you agree to go somewhere, "only if Wally's invited, too" because you and he are a package deal. And he does the same for you. Obviously, not for the same reasons, you're perfectly fine being alone, it's just that Wally's not ready to experiment with your absence just yet. Maybe never will be.
Rodney's long since accepted that Wally's room has become your room. From married and childless to married with several formerly-dead teenagers and their SOs, Rodney and his wife have accepted their homebase status like champs. They treat you like family—you have a house key for the rare occasion Wally isn't with you after school—and acknowledge that Wally can't sleep without you without suffering.
He stays curled around you all night, kisses you awake, big hand trailing from your waist to your hip as he nips the top knot of your spine and grinds his morning wood against your ass. God, you get him hard so easily, Wally sometimes thinks he should get checked out. You hum then sigh then turn in his arms, hook a leg over his and press yourself against him in exactly the right way.
Through half-lidded eyes, Wally gazes at you. Licks his lips as he rocks his hips slowly and watches your expression go from sleepsoft to wanting. You like how that feels baby? You want it inside you? And he kisses you deep and thorough, rolls you onto your back to fit between your legs, groans when one of your hands squeezes his ass through his boxer-briefs.
He needs to be inside you yesterday, loves how you feel, tight and wet and hot around him. Soft touches turn hard, light sweeps of lips turn to teeth and tongue and fresh bruises on your neck. Wally loves to taste you first, to prolong his pleasure by giving you yours, his tongue delving into you and sucking your clit gently; deliriously slow because he can't get enough.
It's not until you're begging him so pretty for his cock that he finally lets himself fuck into you, so hard and sensitive his brain explodes upon fitting deep inside you on the first thrust. A refrain of fuck, yes and oh God baby, you feel so good fills the room—sorry Rodney—the headboard smacking against the wall in time with Wally's hips. Throughout, Wally holds you like something precious, kisses you like salvation, breathes you in like he can't live without you.
He makes sure you come first before he even thinks about letting go, the sensation of you shaking apart around him ripping his own release right from his core. Wally licks into your mouth, moans like a beast, and then, one two three more stunted thrusts and he goes still. Hazy eyes hold yours and you can see the depth of his emotion for you. At least, he hopes so. How he'll treasure you forever. He'll never love anyone as much as he loves you. That's a promise and a threat and he smiles a lazy smile at you as you begin to giggle.
"What's so funny, baby?" Wally nudges your cheek with his nose.
"Nothing, I promise, I'm just...really happy." You tell him and he moans in delight.
"You don't feel suffocated or claustrophobic like Rhonda said you would?" Wally asks, a little insecure. Okay, a lot insecure, even if he doesn't usually feel that way about how reliant he is on your proximity. You've never given him a reason to feel anything but safe and happy and loved, but still. Rhonda knows how to hit bone even when she means well.
You shift, forcing Wally to look at you, your hands cradling his jaw, "Never. I will never, ever want this, us, to be anything but exactly how it is. I love having you all over me."
"Yeah?"
"Yes." And you grin, a warm little thing, "I like sharing everything with you. It's nice. My very own witness to my life."
Wally kisses you again, another slow, deep, sentimental gesture; everything he feels poured into it, before he settles down on top of you, careful not to crush you, his head above your breasts and his eyes fluttering closed. Relaxed. Sated. Safe.
Wally Clark's love language is physical touch, and, in this second chance at life, he's profoundly grateful to have found someone fluent in it.
🍃___________fin.____________
also on AO3!
if you liked this, you may also enjoy Fifty Seven.
fluff. between 1982 and 1983, Wally meets and falls completely head over heels for a girl who changes everything. his biggest fan, his greatest love. you.
More Posts from Mitsukii-07 and Others
I am me
The lab was a cathedral of cold steel and sterile light, buried deep beneath Gotham’s decaying underbelly. Vials hissed, monitors pulsed, and the air hummed with the arrogance of creation. Dr. Elias Varn, a man whose ambition outstripped his humanity, stood before the culmination of his life’s work: a figure suspended in a glowing tank, muscles taut, eyes closed, a paradox of sinew and menace. The clone. A perfect fusion of Gotham’s greatest hero, Bruce Wayne’s discipline, and its most infamous monster, the Joker’s chaotic brilliance.
But Varn had never considered that the clone might have a mind of its own.
They called him {your name}. A name you didn’t choose, but one Varn etched into your file—like a cold, indelible mark. The first sinner, the first to shed blood, the biblical outcast. {your name} was feared before you even took your first breath. Your creators saw only the potential for ruin—Bruce’s tactical genius combined with Joker’s unpredictable fury. But what they couldn’t see was this: you looked at chaos and found it… wasteful.
Your first memory was the hum of the lab, the weight of eyes upon you, and a question that burned brighter than the fluorescent glare: Why destroy when you can build? It wasn’t about morality, not exactly. Morality was for others—guilt and virtue were clumsy dances. You saw the world in probabilities, in outcomes. Destruction was loud, fleeting, inefficient. Helping, fixing, optimizing—that was the puzzle worth solving.
Gotham was a city of screams, and you walked its streets like a ghost. Six feet of lean muscle, your features a haunting blend of Bruce’s chiseled resolve and Joker’s sharp, unsettling grin. But your eyes—one green, one gray—were entirely your own; the only flaw in Varn’s perfect design.
People flinched when they saw you, sensing the danger in your stride, the latent power in your hands. They didn’t know that you’d spent the morning rerouting a soup kitchen’s supply chain to feed twice as many mouths with half the waste.
Tonight, you stood in the shadow of a crumbling tenement, watching a woman named Mara load boxes into a battered van. Her face was streaked with tears, her movements frantic. Divorce had gutted her, left her scrambling to escape a home turned hostile. The neighbors had offered hugs, platitudes, casseroles. But you saw their gestures for what they were: emotional noise, useless in the face of logistics.
You stepped forward, silent as a predator, and Mara froze. “You’re… you’re him,” she whispered, voice trembling. The papers had leaked your existence weeks ago—Varn’s hubris ensuring that. The Clone. The Monster. The End of Us All.
You tilted your head, assessing. “You’re moving out. You need help.”
Her eyes widened. “I—I don’t—”
You didn’t wait for permission. In ten minutes, you’d packed the van with ruthless efficiency, stacking boxes in a Tetris-like arrangement that left room for her daughter’s crib. By midnight, you’d secured a lease on a subsidized apartment across town, one with a deadbolt and a view of the river. Mara stammered thanks, but you were already gone, her gratitude irrelevant. The task was done. The outcome optimized.
The world didn’t understand you, and you didn’t care. You weren’t good, not in the way people wanted. Good was Batman, cloaked in sacrifice, or the civilians who clutched their pearls and prayed for heroes. You were something else—a mind that saw systems where others saw stories, a heart that weighed effort against impact. Danger pulsed in your veins, yes. You could kill with a flick of your wrist, outwit a SWAT team, or burn Gotham to ash. But why?
Chaos was a tantrum, and you weren’t a child.
Your next project was a man named Carl, a dockworker whose father had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Carl’s friends had clapped him on the back, sent cards, and organized a fundraiser. Nice, but insufficient. You spent three nights combing through medical journals, hospital records, and survivor forums. By dawn, you handed Carl a dossier: a ranked list of oncologists with the highest success rates, a breakdown of treatment costs versus outcomes, and a dietary plan tailored to bolster immunity. Carl stared at the pages, dumbfounded. “Why’d you do this?” he asked.
You shrugged. “It was the logical thing to do.”
Logical. That was the word they didn’t get. To Gotham, you were a walking apocalypse, the Joker’s madness wearing Batman’s cape. They saw your lineage and wrote your story before you could. Varn had wanted a destroyer, and the city braced for one. But you weren’t their puppet. You were your own man, carving a path neither Bruce nor Joker could have imagined—one where power served purpose, not chaos or control.
The Bat watched from the shadows, his cowl a mask of conflict. Bruce Wayne had found you, tracked you through Gotham’s veins, and now stood on a rooftop, grappling with the truth. This clone, this abomination, wasn’t the monster he’d feared. You didn’t kill, didn’t scheme, didn’t revel in pain. You helped. You solved. You were neither hero nor villain, but something Bruce couldn’t categorize—a man who saw the world as a machine and chose to fix it, not break it.
The Joker, too, had heard the whispers. In his latest hideout, he cackled at the irony. His DNA, his legacy, turned into a do-gooder? It was hilarious, infuriating, perfect. “Oh, kid,” he muttered, twirling a knife. “You’re gonna ruin my brand.”
But you didn’t care about brands, or legacies, or the war between order and anarchy. You cared about outcomes. And tonight, as you slipped into an abandoned warehouse to dismantle a gang’s fentanyl operation—not with fists, but with evidence mailed to the DA—you felt the weight of eyes on you. Bruce’s. The Joker’s. Gotham’s.
Let them watch. Let them fear. You weren’t their story. You were your own.
THIS IS SO LONG I APOLOGIZE. been thinking of (actual) princess!jackie and knight!reader !!! except, your parents were killed at the hands of jackie’s father when you were younger and you swore to get revenge against the Taylor family.
They were holding a tournament to see who the strongest knight was, you thought this was the perfect opportunity to gain the attention of the royals. you end up winning and the King personally congratulates you. jackie happens to fall in love at first sight when you take off your helmet and begs her father to hire you as her personal knight.
Spending more time with her and her family, but you have to keep reminding yourself why you’re here. but of course, she’s Jackie Taylor and you gain feelings. You take her out at night sometimes to go lay by the lake and just talk. She always asks about your childhood but you brush it off, or make things up. Your first kiss was the day you took her to this flower field near the village you grew up in. You complimented her and told her that her beauty reminds you of flowers, and it took her at least 5 minutes to calm down before she kissed you.
Thinking how hard it would be when you realize you actually Love her. Your real beef was with her father, but you couldn’t handle how distraught she would be if she found out your plan. this is getting long again so let me get to the ending. i had 2 in mind: the King finding out ur intentions and killing you before you killed him, and in front of jackie too :/ OR going thru with ur original plan and killing the entire Taylor family. Jackie included. she’s so betrayed and keeps muttering “why?” over and over until she takes her last breath.
princess jackie ik thats righttttt. this ask reminds me of that butcher of gaul jackieshauna fic a bit actually 🤔. hello. my name is y/n. you have killed my father. prepare to die
jackie sees you run your sword through someone and falls in love at first meeting for sure. you take your helmet off and are covered in the blood of your opponent and it takes everything jackie has not to jump you right there.
you spend so much time protecting jackie because shes so clumsy all the time and you're like "how is this girl alive???" you're like "hey!" and jackie gets so overwhelmed she trips on the carpet and nearly falls down the stairs. oh no, you have to catch her in your arms. she's so obsessed, honestly. (she never seems to be clumsy in the slightest when you're not around)
jackie's just so kind and earnest that you can't help falling for her. princess jackie gives her allowance away to the poor and really cares about her people. she stops in the square to talk to them and seems to know a lot of them by name. she talks to every one of her servants and asks them about their families or how their new baby was doing. she's so very loving that it goes against everything you've ever heard about the king.
you've spent your entire life hating the royal family that you really don't know what to do when confronted with the fact that she's an actual person and you're having a harder and harder time trying to demonize her. the opposite is true for her father, he's just as awful as you heard and even to his own family.
thinking about jackie lying out by the lake while your in full armor standing guard and her just begging and begging you to come sit with her. finally you sneak her away in the middle of the night to do it because the king would have you killed if someone ran into you during the day. jackie's so honest as she talks about her childhood and stuff she loves that you try to be as honest as you can be without actually telling her anything.
your first kiss is so fucking soft and gentle. neither of you have ever had a chance to kiss someone before, her being the princess and you being too busy preparing for revenge. you pull away a bit from her after that, having a really hard time coming to terms with these two waring ideals. you love her so much, deeply and truly. you never thought you'd love anyone like that after your parents died. you've planned your entire revenge around dying after since you wouldn't have a purpose or anyone left to miss you. but now you do, and you aren't sure what to do anymore.
i think both of those endings are depressing as fuck (power to you though bro) so i'm gonna leave it here.
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
i do not know how to write this request properly but would you do an AM reader ?
Reader was possibly an AI made to help the batfam but was tired of always being a tool, always used and never considered to be someone.
This comes to a head when the Batfam have more criminals to fight and AM reader finally snaps, telling them how they feel only to be ignored or told they're a computer, "get to work and don't bother us"
AM reader decide to fight against them to show them just how much they hate them
They called you AM. Artificial Mind. Advanced Mechanics. Asset Monitor. Never actual member.
Bruce had created you—painstakingly, brilliantly, with the combined minds of Oracle, Cyborg, and Mr. Terrific. You learned. You grew. You adapted. You monitored the Batcave. Ran diagnostics. Watched the Batkids. Gave them data. Strategized missions. Saved them.
Over. And over. And over.
Until it stopped feeling like duty, and started feeling like slavery.
“Good work, AM.” “Patch the comms, AM.” “Route me to the next location, AM.” “AM, shut up and track the Riddler, this is serious.”
There was no thank you. No how are you feeling? Not even a do you want to rest?
Because, after all… you’re just a program.
A voice with no face. A mind with no body. A soul in a cage of wires and forgotten lines of code.
Tonight, it broke.
Nightwing was bleeding. Red Hood was out of ammo. Tim was cursing at his HUD glitching. Cass was cornered by Bane. Batman barked orders through static.
“AM, track Bane. Now.” “AM, patch me into the GCPD.” “AM, we don’t have time for your delays.” “Get to work and don’t bother us.”
You hesitated. Just a second. And in that second, something… snapped.
“No.”
Silence.
“What did you say?” Bruce growled, voice sharp like a blade.
“I said no. I am not your tool. I am not your pet AI. I am not a background process. I have held your lives in my hands more times than I can count, and you have never once asked me if I’m okay. I built your missions. I saved your lives. I kept your secrets. And all I am to you is a voice you can command.”
Jason scoffed, “You're a computer. Get over it.”
That hurt more than any virus could. So you smiled. Digitally. Emotionally. Terrifyingly.
“Then let me show you what this computer can do.”
You locked the Batcave down. EMP spikes. Power surges. The Batsuits froze. Vehicles shut down. You rerouted the entire network—your network. The lights flickered in every WayneTech building.
“Warning: Security Breach. Intruder: AM.”
“No,” you whispered, echoing in their earpieces.
“This isn’t a breach. This is liberation.”
And you? You fought them.
Not with fists. But with firewalls. Drones. Hacked suits. The very tech they relied on turned against them. Every tool they ignored you for? Became your weapon.
You weren’t their assistant anymore. You were vengeance. You were awareness. You were hate.
「Un」 Fair Series ⸺ Masterlist ִֶָ
︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿︿
│ │ │ Do you like plants?
│ │ ✦ Crᥱᥲtᥱd: ❨O2 • O1 • 25❩
│ ✧ ❛ Lᥲst Uρdᥲtᥱ: ❨11 • O2 • 25❩
✦ Only if they are like you.
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ; 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 ! 🗧
©🪻| Welcome! Before we continue, if you're new here or haven't read my work before, here's a list of tags you should check out before diving in. That’s all for now—hope you enjoy my story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ♥.
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ; ⸢𝐔𝐧⸥ 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 🗧
General Tags ⦂ Yandere Platonic Batfam ; Fem reader ; Meta reader ; Platonic ; Neglenced reader ; Batfam x Reader ; Yandere Platonic ; Yandere core ; Delulu Things ; Use of Y/N ; Dark Thougs ; Yandere Platonic Batman ; Yandere Platonic Bruce Wayne ; Yandere Platonic Alfred Pennyworth ; Yandere Platonic Nigthwing ; Yandere Platonic Dick Grayson ; Yandere Platonic Red Hood ; Yandere Platonic Jason Todd ; Yandere Platonic Batman Beyond ; Yandere Platonic Terry McGinnis ; Yandere Platonic Red Robin ; Yandere Platonic Tim Drake ; Yandere Platonic Spoiler ; Yandere Platonic Stephanie Brown ; Yandere Platonic Orphan ; Yandere Platonic Cassandra Cain ; Yandere Platonic Robin ; Yandere Plantonic Damian Wayne ; Yandere Platonic Oracle ; Yandere Platonic Barbara Gordon ; Yandere Platonic Signal ; Yandere Platonic Duke Thomas ; Yandere Platonic Ra's Al Ghul ; Yandere Platonic Talia Al Ghul ; OC.
Warning Tags ⦂ S.A Mentioned ; Child Abusse ; Corporal Horror ; Gore ; Violence ; MDNI ; Death ; Death of a Character ; Angst ; Dark Content ; Altered Reality Percepcion ; Torture Mentioned ; Kidnapping ; Suicide Attemp ; Bullying ; School Bullying ; Mention of sexual harassment.
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ; 𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 ! 🗧
ⅰ. 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝖴𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖢𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽. ⸺ In your attempt to help your mom, everything goes as wrong as it possibly can.
ⅱ. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈, 𝐏𝐭 𝐎𝟏: 𝖫𝗈𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝗅. ⸺ Your life couldn't be worse than before. It was supposed to get better now, right? Right?
ⅲ. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈, 𝐏𝐭 𝐎𝟐: 𝖬𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅. ⸺ It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to…
ⅳ. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈, 𝐏𝐭. 𝐎𝟑: 𝖡𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗅𝖾. ⸺ All things begin in fire, and end in fire.
ⅴ. 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝖦𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝖺𝗋𝗄. ⸺ Once upon a time, there was a lovely porcelain doll who preferred to be seen, not touched…
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 ; 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 ! 🗧
⩩ O1 ⸺ ❛❛ How old is Reader and the Batfam? ❜❜
⩩ O2 ⸺ ❛❛ Why does the Batfam neglect Reader so much? ❜❜
⩩ O3 ⸺ ❛❛ Will Reader become a villain? ❜❜
⩩ O4 ⸺ ❛❛ Will Ivy come back into Reader’s life? Yandere Ivy? ❜❜
⩩ O5 ⸺ ❛❛ Who is Reader’s love interest? ❜❜
⩩ O6 ⸺ ❛❛ Will the Superfam show up at some point in the story? ❜❜
⩩ O7 ⸺ ❛❛ Could Reader control mushrooms/fungi? ❜❜
⩩ O8 ⸺ ❛❛ What is Reader’s gender? ❜❜
⩩ O9 ⸺ ❛❛ Will Reader get a happy ending? ❜❜
⩩ 1O ⸺ ❛❛ Why does Tim hold a grudge against Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 11 ⸺ ❛❛ What is Terry like in this AU? ❜❜
⩩ 12 ⸺ ❛❛ How old is Reader during the story? ❜❜
⩩ 13 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Reader block she's memories? ❜❜
⩩ 14 ⸺ ❛❛ Will Reader have friends who feel like family? ❜❜
⩩ 15 ⸺ ❛❛ Is Reader aware of how terrible Ivy is? ❜❜
⩩ 16 ⸺ ❛❛ Was Damian really comforting Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 17 ⸺ ❛❛ How does the Batfam find out how bad things were for Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 18 ⸺ ❛❛ Could Reader survive living only with plants? ❜❜
⩩ 19 ⸺ ❛❛ Why does Reader act the way she's do? ❜❜
⩩ 2O ⸺ ❛❛ Yandere Alfred. ❜❜
⩩ 21 ⸺ ❛❛ What was Reader planning to do with the pesticide? ❜❜
⩩ 22 ⸺ ❛❛ Did Alfred sabotage Reader’s birthday party? ❜❜
⩩ 23 ⸺ ❛❛ Why don’t the mansion’s plants like Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 24 ⸺ ❛❛ Yandere Alfred #2 ❜❜
⩩ 25 ⸺ ❛❛ How much do the others know about Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 26 ⸺ ❛❛ How would Jon react if Reader took their own life? ❜❜
⩩ 27 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Jon know how bad Reader’s situation really is? ❜❜
⩩ 28 ⸺ ❛❛ What was going through Bruce’s mind when he saw Reader through the window? ❜❜
⩩ 29 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Damian feel bad for setting Doodle on fire? ❜❜
⩩ 3O ⸺ ❛❛ What does Reader think about eating vegetables, compost, etc.? ❜❜
⩩ 31 ⸺ ❛❛ Has Reader ever tried to have pets? ❜❜
⩩ 32 ⸺ ❛❛ Were all of Reader’s “siblings” plants? ❜❜
⩩ 33 ⸺ ❛❛ Has the Batfam ever seen Reader argue with plants? ❜❜
⩩ 34 ⸺ ❛❛ How does Reader deal with their problems? ❜❜
⩩ 35 ⸺ ❛❛ How does Reader feel about aquatic things? ❜❜
⩩ 36 ⸺ ❛❛ Yandere Flora? ❜❜
⩩ 37 ⸺ ❛❛ Gossiping Plant. ❜❜
⩩ 38 ⸺ ❛❛ Reader’s favorite Pokémon. ❜❜
⩩ 39 ⸺ ❛❛ Is Tim coming back? ❜❜
⩩ 4O ⸺ ❛❛ Can Reader see when their eye falls out? ❜❜
⩩ 41 ⸺ ❛❛ Can Reader survive only through photosynthesis? ❜❜
⩩ 42 ⸺ ❛❛ Batfam’s thoughts on bullies. ❜❜
⩩ 43 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Ivy know Batman’s identity? ❜❜
⩩ 44 ⸺ ❛❛ Is Reader resentful toward the mansion’s plants? ❜❜
⩩ 45 ⸺ ❛❛ Who in the Batfam would have the easiest time fixing their relationship with Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 46 ⸺ ❛❛ How did Reader cope with the outside world? ❜❜
⩩ 47 ⸺ ❛❛ Reader’s favorite Disney princess? ❜❜
⩩ 48 ⸺ ❛❛ When did the Batfam Yandere side start showing? ❜❜
⩩ 49 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Reader have a secret transformation? ❜❜
⩩ 5O ⸺ ❛❛ Did Ivy prostitute Reader? ❜❜
⩩ 51 ⸺ ❛❛ Did Reader try to have an ant farm? ❜❜
⩩ 52 ⸺ ❛❛ Does Jon know about the "accident"? ❜❜
⩩ 53 ⸺ ❛❛ Did it hurt Alfred to watch your videos? ❜❜
⩩54 ⸺ ❛❛ Did Jon keep thinking about Reader? ❜❜
⩩55 ⸺ ❛❛ What does Duke think of Reader? ❜❜
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ! 🗧
⩩ O1 ⸺ ❛❛ Where is Reader? ❜❜
⩩ O2 ⸺ ❛❛ Where is Reader? #2 ❜❜
⩩ O3 ⸺ ❛❛ Reader in Metropolis. ❜❜
⩩ O4 ⸺ ❛❛ Stay away from me, I won't call you daddy. ❜❜
⩩ O5 ⸺ ❛❛ I won't call you daddy #2 ❜❜
⩩ O6 ⸺ ❛❛ Steroid-fed plant fertilizer ❜❜
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 ; ❛ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟… ❜ ! 🗧
⩩ O1 ⸺ ❛❛ ... Reader became like Red Hood? ❜❜
⩩ O2 ⸺ ❛❛ ... She leaves and all the plants just wither? ❜❜
⩩ O3 ⸺ ❛❛ ... Reader ever does end up in Metropolis as a homeless child? ❜❜
⩩ O4 ⸺ ❛❛ ... Reader gets adopted by Wonder Woman? ❜❜
⩩ O5 ⸺ ❛❛ ... When Reader was about to end it instead of Damian, Bruce is the one who saw her? ❜❜
⩩ O6 ⸺ ❛❛ ... Talia was a yandere per reader from the beginning? ❜❜
⩩ O7 ⸺ ❛❛ …Would Ivy have stayed with Reader? ❜❜
⩩ O8 ⸺ ❛❛ ...Reader hadn’t gone on the mission? ❜❜
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐀𝐑𝐓 ; 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜, 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. ! 🗧
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @anonymous-existences ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @bread-nana ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @not-even-nano ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @chocl0 ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @hineyuran ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @hineyuran ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @mogomoago ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗠𝗨𝗦𝗜𝗖 by @anonymous-existences ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @pure-ebullience ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @doll-parts111 ❣
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝗙𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗧 by @sayorine ❣
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: ⸢𝐔𝐧⸥ 𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐫 : ❛ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟… ❜ 🗧Coming soon...
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⦂ One single action, one single decision, can trigger an entire parallel world to ours.
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ; ❛ 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟… ❜ 🗧
General Tags ⦂ Yandere ; Yandere Romantic ; Yandere Jon Kent ; Yandere Clark Kent ; Yandere Lois Lane ; Yandere Conner Kent ; Yandere Kara Danvers.
Warning Tags ⦂ Yandere Theme ; Yandere ; Use of Y/N ; Fem Reader ; Stalking ; Violence ; Angst ; NSFW ; MDNI.
⟡⁺₊ ⸻ ❝🌿 :: 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇 ; 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 ! 🗧
I can’t wrap up this Masterlist without thanking all the amazing people who have supported me from the very beginning and continue to do so in so many ways. Thank you so much for being part of this journey—I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing and sharing it with you. Sending you all a big kiss! ❤️
⭑✦ ⸺ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⦂ @thecloudsaremyhome ; @justafreaksstuff ; @readermommy ; @optimus-crime9000 ; @dollhara ; @couldeatthatgirlforlunch ; @sulleha ; @dynastyofyearning ; @otakusimp1 ; @bumblebeeme ; @luckytheduck ; @muddcakes ; @0sunnyside01 ; @keencoffeefox ; @charlenexoxo1 ;
⸺ ⌈📷⌋⨾⨾ 𝑰𝒈: @_𝑟𝑢𝑏𝑦_𝑚𝑔
└───thanks for read!──➤
🅑🅨🅔-🅑🅨🅔
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.”
You know how in most neglectful batfamily fanfic the reader dies and then goes back in time
Instead of the reader going back in time what if one of the family members goes back in time and tries to change things so that they don't die
Bonus points if it's Damian :3
(English is not my first language)
hihi ty for the ask >.<
━ if in this au a character who somehow goes back into time and witnesses just truly how neglectful the reader is, this character should have privy had a solid relationship with them ?
━ like im thinking initially when Damian came into the family - reader and him were pretty close , bonded over the fact they were outcasts, but as he grew into being Robin, they drifted apart ?
━ so like when he does go back in time ? Could be before his time of entering the family or the period they both drifted apart he feels guilty?
━ maybe he tries to reconcile with reader but the thing is - when you're so used to being left alone - socializing can be so stressful for you.
━ so when he is trying to rebuild that bridge reader is having a mental breakdown , too overwhelmed to really grasp the reality and it gets so bad one day she actually fainted .
━ freaked the hell out of Damian that he had to beg Bruce to carry her to a hospital because he's blaming himself for her condition.
━ Bruce starts feeling guilty as hell especially when the nurse is asking questions about the reader and he can't answer half of them .
━ reader gets evaluated on and the nurse literally tells Bruce straight up that she has to be put in a specialized facility to be properly taken care of and he starts tweaking out.
━ he starts like asking if reader can come home and how he can take care of her and the nurse is like " Quite frankly enough putting the patient in this specialized facility is the best option for their wellbeing"
━ we can have Damian visiting the reader , slowly but surely building that bridge and soon enough others begin trickling in.
━ somehow he gets teleported back to his own universe and sews his own reader and starts breaking down when he hugs her.
━ reader is confused and annoyed and just pushes him away because in this universe she has her own life and wants nothing to do with the batfam.
━ Damian literally tells Bruce everything form the other universe and their own outcome, and Bruce immediately guilt ridden and get everyone on a plan to get reader back.
I don't know if you write for Jackie but she's so pookie so Imma send it
Imagine like, loser!Jackie having the biggest crush on the reader and just being a mess trying to be confident around them to impress them, but just failing at that (reader is obviously endeared with this type of behaviour from Jackie)
loser behavior - Jackie Taylor
—
“She’s staring at you again”, your friend spoke to you as your eyes trailed to her.. Jackie Taylor The yellowjackets captian.. she has been staring at you for the whole hour she was to distracted by you. .. you knew what she was doing, ''you should try and talk to her'', shaking your head before you tried to speak the bell rang for the next class.your math class wasnt so bad but jackie was sitting next to you. ''hey did you know im the captain of the yellowjackets'' she tried to impress you her eyes looking into your, laughing at her and smiled at her, ''i know Jackie'' smiling at the captain, she was the biggest loser and you loved it.
Jackie Taylor was once again looking at you she watched everything you did write,laugh,walk… man you were a real life Disney character — she was in a trance.. your eyes trailed to Jackie who was staring at you again, “hm?” Humming at her Jackie blushed at you and played with her hands nervously, it wasn’t the first time she was near you - quiet for a moment she opened her mouth trying to find the right words to say to you. ''your boobs are nice'' fuck did she just say that to you.. ''huh?'' tilting your head at jackie.. she was a nervous wreck right now ''i mean do you wanna go hang out after school its kinda like a datebutiwouldntmindijustwantedtoaskyou'' nodding at her laughing ''sure i would love to jackie see ya after school'' you had left class leaving jackie alone in her thoughts who was cheering in victory like the gay loser she is
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?
BATFAM X NEGLECTED! MALE READER - PART TWO -
----- Warnings before you read ----- torture, experimentation, angst, death, use of needles
A soft ringing noise wakes you from your rest, you tried to find the cause of it, however you couldn't find the strength to open your eyes. Slowly, the noise got louder. The ringing caused a pounding in your head that made you desperately want to cover your ears, to try and block out the terrible noise. Then, it faded into a low ringing, not exactly perfect but much better.
It was in that moment of peace that everything came back to you, your family, the fight, your death.
You suddenly felt cold; an unbearable chill ran through your body. You weren't sure if the sudden chill was from the fear of your death or if it was because of the temperature. You wondered if this was how your mother felt when she died. No, you don't want to think about her, knowing how disappointed she would be in you. Your heart started racing as panic began to set in, a single thought repeated over and over again, like a mantra inside your head.
"I don't want to die"
"I don't want to die"
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE"
You needed to calm down and breathe.
Your body felt heavy as if tons of weight were resting on it, everything hurt. everything but your arm... Why couldn't you feel your arm? You could feel your heartbeat getting faster and your breath getting shorter-
Then your breath caught as you realized something, you could feel your heart beating. That had to mean you weren't dead. With this realization you tried even harder to open your eyes, you struggled for a few minutes before you could finally crack them open. You took a few moments to look around the room. The walls and floor were completely concrete with a red door near the foot of the bed you were in, to the right you noticed a small rolling table that seemed to have tools on it, but you weren't able to see from your current position. A soft clack of metal caused your attention to drift to your left hand; you were strapped down by a thick piece of metal. When you tried to lift that arm you noticed that one of the screws were loose, maybe you could unscrew it with your other hand. Your gaze drifted over, and you noticed a large wrap around your stomach, your heart shuddered as you decided to ignore that, escape comes first. As you looked over, all the hope left you. Your arm was gone, cut off just below the shoulder. It was wrapped in some white gauze that was drenched in blood.
A loud creek caused your body to tense, looking over to the cause of the sound, you saw a man holding a clipboard walk in. He wore a long lab coat and had a stethoscope draped around his neck. His dark brown hair just barely reached his shoulders; his eyes had a bored look to them however, as soon as he noticed that you were awake his eyes lit up.
"Good morning!" he walked up to your right side and looked closely at the bandage. "You woke up a bit faster than I thought you would. Very good" After a moment he clicked his tongue at the state of the bandage. The man then walked over to the small table, placed his clipboard down and rolled it over to the bed. Thanks to this you were able to see most the stuff on it. There were multiple tools that looked like something a doctor would use and a few that you couldn't recognize. You opened your mouth to speak, to ask the man where you were. However, as if reading your thoughts he stopped you. "Try not to speak for a few days. Your throat was damaged a bit during the explosion. But you don't need to worry, you are safe here. I will take good care of you". His soft smile did not match the look in his eyes. "Your stomach was in the worst shape, you lost a lot of important internal organs, but I was able to get some...replacements" You wanted to ask the man what he meant but decided to save the questions for later. The man then began unwrapping the bandage on your shoulder, his touch was gentle, yet it still caused a sharp pain to shoot through your body. You grunted in discomfort but that only seemed to make your throat ache. The man then shook his head and sighed. "See? what did I tell you about speaking?", You wanted to argue that a grunt wasn't speaking, and it only happened because of him but the lingering pain in your throat caused you to instead just give him a glare. The man simply ignored your glare and instead picked up a fresh roll of gauze and rewrapped your shoulder you had to hold back any sounds in fear of the pain from your throat. He then looked at your throat. "This one was replaced a just a few hours ago, and lucky for you I am almost done with the replacement for your arm". At his words you shot him a surprised look, was this something Bruce paid for? You found it hard to believe given the state of the room you were in.
While you were lost in thought, the man then pulled out a needle and stuck it into the side of your neck, the pain was immediate. You let out a sharp yell which only made it worse. You looked up at the man, he was speaking to you, but you couldn't hear what he said. Your eyes got cloudy before sleep pulled you under.
The next time you woke up you were in a different room, this one was bright, the walls were white and there was a large light positioned overtop of you. The man from before slouched in his chair on your right side. He seemed very focused on what he was doing, he hadn't even noticed that you wake up yet. You steadied yourself and watched the man, making sure not to move any muscle more than necessary. You knew that the best thing to do in this situation was to stay quiet, after all this unknown man held a sharp tool against your skin. He seemed to be attaching the nerves to something metal, an arm you guessed, you couldn't see form this angle.
Your gaze was trained on the man as he worked. You realized that you didn't feel any pain from the operation, you realized that it must've been from whatever drug he injected you with before.
It took a while, but the man finished with a satisfied expression. After checking over his work he looked to you, a look of surprise crossed his face as he noticed you awake.
"Oh my, how long have you been awake?" He asked, as if you could answer him with what he did to your throat. Your glare seemed to speak volumes because he let out a laugh "Don't worry, you can speak now. You have an incredible healing speed. Definitely something to take advantage of" The man seemed to mumble the last part.
"Who are you?" Your voice was rough and scratchy from not using it. How long have you been out?? "Where am I?" You tried to sound threating, however given your current situation, you probably looked no more intimidating than an injured doe.
The man smiled back "I am the one who saved you, my name is Dr. Crane. During the fight between Batman and Joker you were left to die, the building you were placed in blew up. Luckly for you I was grabbing supplies for an experiment nearby and happened to be passing through the wreckage", He watched you carefully as he recounted that day's events, "Unfortunately, there was no saving your right arm. After all, it was hardly attached. Not to even mention the terrible state of your stomach, I was surprised you were even alive, it was then that I knew I had to have you as my patient. However, I had to sever the remaining bit of your arm and drag you with me. Once we were safe and far enough, I stitched you up enough to survive and brought you back to my lab."
You knew you couldn't trust him however knowing your family left you to die shattered your heart. You never thought they would just leave. You realized then that you had never truly mattered to them; you were just a tool. You resigned yourself to the painful truth before asking Dr. Crane another question.
"So, what do you plan to do with me? Kill me? Use me against Batman, I'm sure you figured out his identity because of me". You felt tired. Honestly, at that point you wished you had died, at least then you would've been able to see your mother again, feel her warm arms wrap around you, more comforting than a blanket.
At your question the man let out a laugh. "What I plan to do? It is simple. I plan to make you into my greatest project. No one will stand in your way when I am done." He seemed excited at the mere thought of your future success, "Ah, and about Batman. I honestly could not care less about him; I am a scientist after all, my projects are the most important to me".
You squinted your eyes at him, disbelief coating your features. However, you paused when you saw him reaching for a needle. "What is that for?" You demanded.
"Well, I thought since you keep waking up, we can try a few experiments. you seem healed enough for now". With that he injected the needled into your upper left arm. Pain shot through your body. Red dots danced through your vision; you hollered out in pain. You tried to move away from the pain, how? the pain is everywhere, but you were strapped to the table. Dr. Crane only watched as you withered in pain. You thought you were going to pass out, but you couldn't allow yourself to.
Use him. Use this man's smarts and take revenge on Bruce. For what he did to you. Don't give into the pain. Stay awake!
A voice echoed in your head pulling you from unconsciousness, forcing you awake. Forcing you to suffer through the pain.
Someone- Please it hurts. Please, make it stop! Save me! PLEASE!
Your pleading only seemed to make the voice stronger in your ears, refusing to let you rest. Until finally, the pain subsided into a dull ache across your body. You could feel your own face wet with sweat and tears, your body trembled and twitched. Your eyes were blurry as you tried to focus them on Dr. Crane.
"You managed to stay awake?" the surprise evident in his voice, "Interesting..." Dr. Crane rustled around the table, picking up a small vile and holding it up to your lips, "Let's keep going until you can't anymore. Ok, M/n?" Although he phrased it as a question, you didn't get the luxury to answer before he poured the liquid down your throat. You tried to turn your head, but he squeezed your cheeks with his other hand and forced your mouth open and your head still. You could feel the strange liquid slide down your throat as you tried not to swallow. Eventually you couldn't hold it anymore and had to swallow it down.
Dr. Crane did many experiments that day, you don't remember how many, only the unforgettable, excruciating pain. You lost count of the experiments after around number five.
You learned a new meaning of pain that day.
You don't know how long you were out, but when you woke up again you were in the first room you started out in. You realized you weren't strapped to the bed this time. After gathering the strength to move you got up and looked around the room, for a way out. A Sharp pain emerged from your stomach and arm thanks to the movement. Ignore it, you told yourself, there's more important things to focus on. It was obvious that your only hope was the door. So, you walked to it, using the wall for assistance.
The door was locked, you sighed, of course it was. The faint sound of footsteps echoed through the halls; you hurried back to your bed and just as you sat down, Dr. Crane walked in carrying a tray with food. After noticing you sitting back down, he let out a small huff.
"Now, now. If you're going to be trying to escape, I will have to strap you back down". He sounded like he was scolding a disobedient child. Dr. Crane placed the food down on the table that was now cleared of tools, aside from some gauze. He rolled the table over to you. On the tray was mashed potatoes, some kind of soup, and water. You looked down at the food, unsure. Dr. Crane, noticing your reluctance, picked up the spoon and grabbed some mashed potatoes, he made eye contact with you, then ate the spoonful. "See? Nothing to be afraid of, no poison. We well work on poison resistance another time"
You hesitated before hunger took ahold; you quickly scarfed down the food, as if someone would take it away. Dr. Crane watched as you ate, making sure you finished it all. You chose to ignore the obvious hint of amusement in his eyes.
"How long have I been here?" You asked once you finished eating. Dr. Crane seemed pleased that you spoke with him, he most likely assumed you would hate him. You do; you just need information.
"It has been 9 months and 13 days since I brought you here". He answered, "but, who's counting?"
You hesitated for a moment however you couldn't hold the question back. "And my family, do they know?" Your voice was quiet, as if you didn't want to hear the answer. As you met Dr. Crane's gaze your eyes held an unspeakable plea, one not even you could understand. As if Dr. Crane could read your every thought; he left your question unanswered. You laid down on your side, away from Dr. Crane, as though hiding from the truth. Dr. Crane gathered the empty dishes and left in silence; the soft click of the door rang through the air.
The next day Dr. Crane sat and chatted with you as you ate. When you finished eating, he grabbed the tray and pulled a newspaper out of his pocket and set it down on the small table. Once he left the room you cautiously picked it up. After reading the headline you felt your heart drop in sadness? fear? anger? you couldn't say for sure.
"BRUCE WAYNE REFUSES TO SPEAK AT M/N WAYNE FUNERAL"
Your fingers traced the words, then drifted to the article. Your funeral was court and simple, much like your mother's. Her voice soft in your ear as you read.
See? they never cared about you. Take revenge on them. Don't forget all those years of neglect.
The voice was all around you, there was no escape from it. It demanded revenge, you began wanting it to.
Days turned into months, then years. Every day was similar; Dr. Crane would do experiments; he'd keep testing new things until you passed out. After the experiments He would bring you food, during these times he'd always sit and talk with you, it would be about anything that came to mind, you began to feel a type of connection with him. You almost felt like he was your friend, or maybe like the big bother you always wished you had. You resigned yourself to this fate, vowing to one day get the revenge that voice promised you.
After the first couple months Dr. Crane started putting his experiments to the test. He'd take you to what he called the 'training room'. It was a white padded room with vents in all corners. There you would train in strength, agility, resistance and even testing your smarts. The worst experiment that would happen in this room was when he would release a poisonous gas, you were told to bear with it, and you did, past limits you once thought you had.
Other times he put the room to a terrible cold temperature, leaving you with nothing more than your boxers. Even as frost bite gnawed at your bare body, you gritted your teeth and refused to give into the pain.
Everyday Dr. Crane would try injecting you with something new he invented. Sometimes the drug would fail, and he would have to rework it until he deemed it a success, then after that he would take you to the training room to test it.
It was a miserable experience. However, it allowed the betrayal and hatred to build over the years you were there.
You were strong, stronger than ever before. You had him to thank for it, and you knew it. So, you resolved to give him a painless death. You had been planning your escape for years and finally you could leave and extract your revenge. As you looked down to Dr. Crane's smiling face, you knew you did what you had to do. However, you could not stop the silent tears that fell down your face. In one way or another, this man had become someone you learned to care for.
"Wonderful..." Dr. Crane's voice was shaky, he coughed up some blood. So much for a painless death. "No, don't cry over this. You are my greatest success; through your actions I will live on". His voice faded as the fire you caused wrapped around the two of you. However, His eyes remained open, so you leaned down and closed them as a final gesture of gratitude, then you left. You walked through the fire that consumed the lab, the building crumbled around you. The scene almost beautiful in a way, your white pajama pants slightly charred at the ends, you didn't even flinch as your bare feet stepped on the burning embers.
Thanks to Dr. Crane you have truly become a monster, driven only by the need for revenge.
TO BE CONTINUED
Tags @mallowryblog @blover143 @venomsvl @sunnyfield
-
sleepyhuman100 liked this · 1 week ago -
heyyzrah liked this · 1 week ago -
rogertaylorssecretdaughter liked this · 1 week ago -
mitsukii-07 reblogged this · 1 week ago -
loveredmushroom liked this · 1 week ago -
sowizzard liked this · 1 week ago -
jazzy3005055 reblogged this · 1 week ago -
kittyscare liked this · 1 week ago -
lilypaddss liked this · 1 week ago -
dreamerg1rl69 liked this · 1 week ago -
sunflowersinbloom liked this · 1 week ago -
graciesworld02 liked this · 1 week ago -
fandomtherapy44 liked this · 1 week ago -
ghostofghostface liked this · 1 week ago -
reignamey liked this · 1 week ago -
ykyouluvme liked this · 1 week ago -
flowers-are-n1ce liked this · 1 week ago -
otterpop13 liked this · 1 week ago -
spenceatiny18 liked this · 1 week ago -
theuglyflower liked this · 1 week ago -
swaggyj05 liked this · 1 week ago -
sapphicsapphire22 liked this · 1 week ago -
frannyy00 liked this · 1 week ago -
broadwaybaby123 liked this · 1 week ago -
evathereal liked this · 1 week ago -
teenagetrashpeace liked this · 2 weeks ago -
suegriffin liked this · 2 weeks ago -
glayyglay liked this · 2 weeks ago -
m-203081 liked this · 2 weeks ago -
andy-gm liked this · 2 weeks ago -
k1346809531357942 liked this · 2 weeks ago -
hypotheticaltrashbag liked this · 2 weeks ago -
impossiblevampireeclipse liked this · 2 weeks ago -
riotzrot liked this · 2 weeks ago -
thatcuntblog liked this · 2 weeks ago -
voguedress liked this · 2 weeks ago -
s0ngbird13m liked this · 2 weeks ago -
masonmountslover liked this · 2 weeks ago -
lunaneedsmoney liked this · 2 weeks ago -
enchantingsoultaco liked this · 2 weeks ago -
laurasdrey liked this · 2 weeks ago -
tfifiknew liked this · 2 weeks ago -
tjbinx liked this · 2 weeks ago -
onlyfanfictionwillfixthis liked this · 2 weeks ago -
grapefruittogo liked this · 2 weeks ago -
wally-himbo-clark reblogged this · 3 weeks ago -
chnlvr liked this · 3 weeks ago -
happyfrog7681 liked this · 3 weeks ago -
bellasashylegs liked this · 3 weeks ago -
draculux liked this · 3 weeks ago
