Shattered Bonds

Shattered Bonds
Shattered Bonds
Shattered Bonds

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?

More Posts from Mitsukii-07 and Others

1 month ago

I was debating on making a second part to this but I think now is a good time.

As you fell to your knees, barely on the brink of consciousness, the loss of blood rushed out of you and leaving your nerves to give out. Hands pathetically on your wound as if it could stop the flow. For you final vision - what of left you can see are blurry sights of the family you've grown to forever resent reaching Damian first before giving an afterthought to your dying body.

You wish you could've seen their faces when their gaze directed to your form but alas only the blur overcomes your sight. Leaving the last chuckle out of your as blood splurts out of your mouth, you've taken your last laugh.

Oh but the family couldn't handle it. Only after your death had they taken to initiative to even feel the guilt rising. The audacity of they who should've known better.

Dick 'Richard' Grayson, The Eldest of The Bunch. Stared in horror at your slumped body, his own frozen and hesitant even if he has seen bodies before - this time it's different. It's You who's dying or worse yet — dying. His sibling that he's not even worthy of calling them that, has died. His thoughts snapped out of it after dismantling the weapon away from Damian with others and immediately came rushing next to your lifeless body. Water dripped down on you, has he been crying? How could he not have noticed like how could he have not noticed you all along?

Jason Todd, The Second and The One Death Once Claimed. He was approachable at first, violent yet sweet and trusting. Those eyes that used to look at You with endearment then icy now looks at you with grief. He oh so badly wanted to claw at the floor but he can't move. Even when you've fallen limp and everyone else rushed to you side, he took a step back. He may be strong once but now he's weak.

Tim Drake, The Third Of Them Who's An Exhausted Genius. This is not part of expected variables that could happen. Pathetic isn't he? Still thinking of You as aere problem. He begs over and over that maybe it didn't hit anything vital but when you've fallen and blood continues gushing, he could only stare. When Dick rushed over, he follows with a slight trip because what else can he do? He's a genius yes but he doesn't - can't bring you back alive.

Damian Thomas Wayne, The Violent Youngest Raised By The Strongest. He stumbles. He is acting strange. How unlike his nature but he trip backwards, still holding onto the bloody weapon that has graced upon You. When he reluctantly glanced at his weapon, immediately it was dropped as if it was on fire. Weapon out of his hands by forced from others. Why is he acting Ike this? He should be proud, he should be happy but this? This feeling? It's a feeling that he wants to desperately scratch off his skin as it is beneath it.

Finally, Bruce Thomas Wayne. The One Who Hovers Over Them All. He failed. He wouldn't expected this. You weren't supposed to be in front of him bleeding. It was as if you two were the only ones in the dark and he wouldn't even as much as reach a hand out hesitantly. He's not worthy of taking care of you and it was proven to him with blood splatters on the silver tray. Out of everyone in this family he had created, little old you was someone he should've keep a closer on. A lot of his thoughts gone haywire and doubts use to crawl up his shoulder when he saw you to the point his reasoning has long gone past within reason.

Now the family had truly destroyed what's left of you they've known alive.

Now the family has directed their thoughts and eyes on you.

Now even in death, they know to not truly let you go for they have to try for another chance.

2 months ago

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

Hc! Jackie Has A Crush On You And She Doesn't Hide It Well.
Hc! Jackie Has A Crush On You And She Doesn't Hide It Well.
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...

Hc! Jackie Has A Crush On You And She Doesn't Hide It Well.

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.

1 month ago

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)

I Don't Know If You Write For Jackie But She's So Pookie So Imma Send It
I Don't Know If You Write For Jackie But She's So Pookie So Imma Send It
I Don't Know If You Write For Jackie But She's So Pookie So Imma Send It

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.

I Don't Know If You Write For Jackie But She's So Pookie So Imma Send 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

1 month ago

hii :)

do you have any hcs for jackie as an older sister? (yellowjackets)

Hii :)
Hii :)

𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗝𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗜𝗘 𝗧𝗔𝗬𝗟𝗢𝗥 ┊ 𝗉𝗋𝖾-𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

n/a. yesss ofc, i love older sister jackie <33

Hii :)

⊹ ࣪˖ She’s definitely protective, especially because she’s sort of the unofficial queen bee in your high school, which means that she knows everything about the whole ‘social scheme’. She’s always looking out for you, making sure that none of Jeff’s jock friends hit on you. It isn’t that uncommon though, after all, everyone at school knows you because of her.

⊹ ࣪˖ When it comes to dating or hook-ups, she’s quite protective. She lets you do your thing, but at the same time she’s judgy. “I mean they're cute but… Why don’t you go out with x instead? They're cooler,” she suggests, trying to persuade you.

⊹ ࣪˖ And if she ever sees you with someone she knows is a player, she literally forces you to never speak to them again. And if you don't listen, she def makes up a lie and pulls the older sister card in front of your parents so that you get in trouble.

⊹ ࣪˖ But being the little sister of the popular girl has its benefits too, for instance, she lets you come with her to a lot of parties — though she only lets you hang out with people she knows, probably because pretty much everyone there is older than you.

⊹ ࣪˖ Also, dating Jackie means getting unlimited rides from Jeff.

⊹ ࣪˖ She helps you do your makeup and pick out your outfits — she respects your own style tho.

⊹ ࣪˖ She doesn't want you to be trapped in the same never-ending cycle of living up to your parents' expectations as she is, so she tries to make your life as comfortable as she can — and while she loves to influence you, she also wants you to grow into your own person, not a mini version of herself. She wants the best for you — even if she doesn't directly say it.

⊹ ࣪˖ Sometimes you get a bit annoyed tho, because it feels like she's always trying to influence your decisions. But deep down, you know she's just looking out for you and trying to help you avoid making the same mistakes she did.

⊹ ࣪˖ Jackie's also the kind of sister who knows how to brighten your mood and bring an instant smile to your face. And if u're having a shitty day and she can't make you laugh, she'll do everything she can to bring you comfort.  "We're gonna figure this out together, okay?” she assures you with a gentle smile, enveloping you in a warm hug.

⊹ ࣪˖ She always tries to look happy around you tho — well, at least when she's not scolding u lmaoooo. Sometimes you wish she would let her guard down and be more vulnerable with you. It feels like she's always putting up this facade of the perfect popular girl, and you just want her to know that it's okay to be herself around you.

⊹ ࣪˖ But despite that, Jackie loves you unconditionally, and you know that if you ever need her, she'll be there in a heartbeat.

1 month ago

Dating Jackie Taylor

Dating Jackie Taylor
Dating Jackie Taylor
Dating Jackie Taylor

warnings: precrash!Jackie, angst(?), fluff, nsfw (under cut), switch!Jackie

Dating Jackie Taylor

❃ you and Jackie had been friends since childhood, both your parents being very friendly and having eachother over for dinner almost every other weekend.

❃ and maybe you'd always had a crush on her - you wouldn't know.. You just knew that the more you grew up and saw her grow with you, the more you wanted to be the reason for the smile on her face.

❃ But it was Jeff who was responsible for that.

❃ Jackie and Jeff had been in an on and off relationship since ninth grade after Jeff had kissed her at some dumb birthday party. You remembered that day and how you didn't know why a lump in your throat started to develop the more Jackie giggled at the boys words.

❃ but you continued acting like everything was normal, over the years managing to push that side of you deep down. It wasn't like the two of you could ever happen anyways.. You were living in rural wiskayok in the 90s for godsake, imagine what people would say! And that was if she even felt the same way about you..

❃ well she did. Jackie had spent years secretly pining over you, ever since Jeff had stood her up and "forgotten" their 1 year anniversary, and you had decided that you would take her out anyways. You spent the night having fun together, going to the cinema, eating at the diner in town, and ending up at the arcade where you managed to get her a cute little bunny plush.

❃ that day Jackie came home with the biggest blushing grin on her face, going to bed clutching the rabbit teddy like her life depended on it. ...She was so fucked.

❃ at first she decided that what she was feeling for you was just normal friendly feelings, like what she felt for Shauna! But she soon figured out that that really wasn't the case when she would giggle like a schoolgirl every time you said something.

❃ but you couldn't be together. You just couldn't. She had Jeff, they were quite literally the perfect high school sweethearts!

❃ Still, she couldn't help wanting you.

❃ something changed however when a party came around and everyone insisted on playing spin the bottle where the two chosen ones had to go into a closet for 7 minutes with the lights off and door closed.

❃ what are the chances then that you and Jackie got picked! At first Jackie refused, explaining that she couldn't do it because she had a boyfriend - but after a few awhs of disappointment from the others it didn't take much to convince her.

❃ wellll.. You spend the next 7 minutes making out desperately in the closet. So much for not acting out on your crush.

❃ "fuck.. I like you Jackie" "..I- I really like you too"

❃ she promptly breaks up with Jeff, saying that it wasn't him - it was her.

❃ anyways, you keep it secret for a while - Jackie being terrified that her reputation would be affected and that her parents would disown her. But you make it work despite the secrecy, Jackie being the same sweet girl behind doors - only never having to fake anything in front of you.

❃ she struggles quite a bit with internalized homophobia, but it got a lot better over time when she realized that you were the best thing in her life. And that she would never ruin that for anything else.

❃ love love loves baking with you, it's so intimate and cozy. Like the two of you are completely alone in the world together. And chocolate chip cookies are definitely her specialty - when she doesn't eat all the dough up.

❃ you come to every single one of her games, always excited support your favorite captain. It's so cute watching how focused she gets when playing against another team.

❃ after your first "date" together you've buy her a new plush every month - gotta treat your queen yk. She treasures them like they're your literal children - she even lost one once and literally called you crying in her bed.

❃ you guys go to concerts together all the time - the jumping around like no ones watching, and being able to cling onto eachother in public without worrying too much about who sees you is truly freeing.

— nsfw —

❃ after Jeff, she's so used to being sexually disappointed that she literally didn't believe that she could experience an orgasm that wasn't by her own touch.

❃ but oh boy was she wrong. One day you'd caught her whimpering and rubbing her clit next to what she thought was your sleeping body in the middle of the night, and you knew you couldn't pass the opportunity.

❃ "Jackie... Do you need help?"

❃ you'd never done anything like it before, but when you finally went down on her, it immediately felt like second nature. She was pretty embarrassed at first - she'd never gotten this wet when she was with Jeff, but the way you took your time and listened to the noises she made as to know what she liked made it the perfect experience for the both of you.

❃ she can't get enough of you after that - she even struggles to masturbate bcs you do it so much better than her fingers.

❃ but after a while she starts getting curious.. You were always the one on top, so, what if you switched positions?

❃ she brings it up shyly when things start to get heated and you're about to peel her pants off. "Can I.. go down on you?". You're kinda shocked at first, but quickly get over it when you see the pleading expression on her face.

❃ so you teach Jackie what you like and show her all your weak spots, and wow, she's surprised she'd never done this earlier. The intoxicating taste and smell pulls her in as she licks and sucks away (still too nervous to use her fingers) ...And she ends up desperately cumming in her underwear after rubbing herself against your leg the whole time.

❃ she gets a hang of it after awhile and after a few times she gets so skilled with that tongue of hers that she can make you cum in less than 10 minutes. Which she is incredibly proud of - the smile on her slick covered face grinning stupidly up at you.

❃ has a thing for quickies in lowkey public places - drags you into the lockerroom at school during history class so you can eat her out.

❃ gets embarrassingly wet when you wear clothes she picked out for you. There's something about the fact that you're hers and she gets to influence what you do that makes her incredibly horny.

-

a/n: I'm glad y'all are enjoying these headcanons sm!! 😫

Send requests PLSSS 🙏🙏😭 I'm running out of creativity (but I am working on my other requests dw 🤫)

MAIN MASTERLIST

4 months ago

Equals - Yae Miko x Kitsune!Male!Reader

A/N: Something experimental today. It's an idea I've been sitting on for quite a while now. If you want to, I'll make more. Enjoy. CW: Mentions of abuse and dubious consent, discrimination, societal misoginy (kitsune culture and stuff), objectification, sexism and the aftermath of life under these. For context - a female fox is called a 'vixen', and a male is called a 'dog'.

This image has been created using Bing Image Creator.

The era of Kitsune is long gone. 

Taking a stroll through modern Inazuma, one would never believe that there were once as many youkai as there were humans living on the islands. Tengu, Oni, Bake-Danuki and among them, the ascended foxes - Kitsune. As their demonic fellows, they too had an island to call their own, one that has now been swallowed by the sea for centuries. There, Kitsune created a nation of their own, their hearth, their home. Alongside with houses and streets, they quickly formed a culture that would echo for millennia, right until the fall. 

Many elements of it leaked to the general heritage of Inazuma - the festive masks are one such example, followed by the entirety of ritual practice carried out within the shrines scattered across the land. After all, it's the very reason why a kitsune traditionally stands at the helm of the Grand Narukami Shrine. The same is the case of fox warriors - never has history witnessed a dog lead units of his kin or other peoples to war, at least not one that isn't an exceptional, legendary character of some kind. The reason for this state of things is not easy to find as few cultural sources remain, but scholars did not give up on their research. They sought the input of Yae Miko, one of the only Kitsune remaining in Inazuma, who gave them a simple answer - males are very rare. Satisfied, they placed her answer in the books, and the discussion was closed. 

But Yae Miko, as is customary for the current Guuji, kept the truth for herself. In truth, she decided to conceal it because it's an aspect of her kind that she is anything but proud of, even if she never took part in it. What was ordinary for foxes in their nation's prime would be unacceptable even for humanity of that age. 

There happen to be two ways a Kitsune is created. Primarily, it's through the union of two ascended foxes - a kit conceived this way is immortal and sapient from the beginning, gaining the ability to transform in just a few years of life. Even with a single birth usually resulting in three to six newborn foxes, dogs are rare, with one being born in every fourth or fifth litter on average. The second way of creation doesn't favor them either - so far, there have only been a handful of wild dogs that lived long enough to become ascendants, further reducing the introduction of males into the population. Luckily, evolution had it that those rare men welcomed into the world were incredibly resilient to illnesses and injuries, even by Kitsune standards, letting them live and spread their genes for generations to come. With the proper approach, the Kitsune weren't in any way threatened with extinction. 

As is commonly observed by historians, culture reflects the nature of a species, and such is the case for Kitsune. Over the years, the female-dominated society came to a simple conclusion: males are rare and must be protected. This prime example of a logical takeaway soon led to another, less egalitarian idea - something human researchers would refer to as infirmatus sexus, observing such inequalities in some cultures of their own. Kitsune believed that males must be protected, yes, but thought of them as inferior in intelligence and overall wit, as they rarely ascended from the wild. The vixen majority had no issue with this idea and the society turned matriarchal, increasingly more restrictive towards the men. But it was justified, in their eyes - they were required to prolong the species, right? As time went by, so did the objectification of the male sex progress ever further. 

Before the fall, society was based around large family units - lines ruled over by the oldest vixen, referred to as the matriarch. Beneath her were others - first, her own daughters, followed by those of her predecessor, then their offspring and finally, at the lowest rung, the foxes that just stood up from four paws. Dogs were not subject to this hierarchy, as they were dispensed with as objects with a clear owner - usually the matriarch. She had the right to mate with him, and when a change of power came, so too did the patriarch - usually switched for a younger male from another family, the further, the better. Similarly, male kits stayed with their father (raised, of course, under the careful scrutiny of the vixens) until they were of breeding age to be pawned off to another lineage for political favor, land, rights or simply cold, hard currency. 

Dogs that were too old to produce offspring or simply infertile were disposed of, in ways more or less kind, depending on who happened to own them. The majority got to stay as authorities for the youth and priests, and those with no luck were sold to slavers or human poachers. 

You were born into one such lineage on the fringes of the nation. You still recall the drawings of your infant self - an adorable pup with a pristine but messy white coat, two little ears pointing out, greedily taking in the sounds of the world. Allegedly, you had four sisters, though you never seem to recall their names. The first memories of young Y/N were primarily centered around your father - a towering, muscular fox with a gleam of wit in his eyes and grey eating away at his own fur. Despite his young age and fitting appearance, you always saw him as wise and ancient - maybe because of the hair, darkened by stress and exhaustion. He was cynical at times, but loving nonetheless. One of the fondest memories you had was when he would lift a panel from the floor and let you run free in the forest outside. There were rules of course - don't let anyone see you and come back before the first rays of sun. You enjoyed your time of unsupervised play, chasing squirrels and exploring the woods, always coming back through the same crawl space before it dawned. Your father would wash all the dirt off and send you to sleep with a warm hug, asking you to keep quiet about your adventure. Of course, you nodded along, but being a kid created the inevitability of a slip up. After you mentioned it to your female playmate once, you were taken away from that house and never saw it again. 

You don't know what became of your father. You didn't even get to know his name. 

The new house was larger, and so were the girls inside. While you didn't like playing with vixens at home - there was always an adult watching and you would get relentlessly berated for injuring yourself even in the slightest - you at least had somebody to have fun with. There, you had nothing. Lady Matsui, your owner and wife-to-be, simply had you locked in a room with books and toys to get yourself busy in the few free moments you had. You hated it there, but any mention of it would get one of the toys you had taken away. Any sign of disobedience to your caretakers, especially during exercise or classes, would get you punished. Matsui didn't seem to have patience for you, and was constantly complaining; she wanted a husband with red fur, not white fur. You were simply a temporary solution, and by the end, you would have all her deepest fantasies memorised. You were never part of them - as she said, you shouldn't get too attached. You were to be replaced shortly, after all. At least the food was alright. 

Years went by and it was clear that Matsui would have to begrudgingly accept you as her permanent husband. She didn't take it lightly at first, but after a time of angry outbursts and drinking, she had a sudden change of heart. “If I'm to own you”, she said, “I should at least train you properly”. And trained you were, both physically and in mind. Your free time was reduced to null and your days became dedicated to working out and studying. Sometimes the two were mixed - you had to recite the rules while doing push-ups. Good boys always sleep at night. Good boys thank their mistress for food. Good boys always listen. Good boys never question what they are told. Then, you were served unsalted, nutritious foods. Raw vegetables, slightly cooked meat, plain rice and raw fish made up your diet - all natural, as your Lady wanted. All tasteless. Any fussing, talking back, crying, making mistakes or disobeying would quickly put you in the punishment room. She would slap a bamboo cane on your hands and butt until you were red, sore and bleeding, she would make you kneel on small rocks or sit up the wall for hours, sometimes she would whip you. “Military discipline”. All the while she constantly announced her displeasure with your existence.

No matter how muscular you were made to be, it was never enough. So your diet was changed, shrinking endlessly to meet her impossible standards. No matter if you were tall, it was always too short for Matsui. So you were made to hold on to a bar with rocks tied to your ankles to stretch you out. Your knees still hurt sometimes, the skeletal deformations made permanent by this regular exercise. No matter how much stamina you had, you always ended mating too early. So you were trained, day and night, forced to perform through pain, distress and exhaustion. Sometimes Matsui had balls or parties held at her estate, and you were the main entertainment. You would dance, sing and play any instruments they wanted, but your wife and her friends were never there for your artistic skills in the first place. Your cries, moans and screams were much finer. Now that you think about it, her friends were likely never allowed to mistreat the dogs of their houses, so they took out their frustrations and carried out their wildest fantasies on you - without consequences. They were smaller, they were lighter, they were physically weaker than you, and yet you couldn't defend yourself. It would only make things worse - far worse if you did. You felt filthy. You felt humiliated. Afterwards you cleaned yourself frantically, but the feeling of their hands on you never faded. 

You ended up rubbing so hard that your body bled. 

You became a reclusive, quiet fox. Saying anything more than what was expected of you usually ended up badly, so you decided it's better to just stay silent. Taking your punishments and abuse with silent resignation was the only way of survival - without entertaining whimpers and pleading, Matsui and her vixens quickly grew bored of you. Instead of releasing your pain in front of them, you resorted to crying silently in your room, screaming without making a sound in the moonlight. You did all the things every male did - trained, ate, rested, had sex, attended events as a decoration and primarily - mated. Unlike your father, you never had the chance to raise pups. The female kits were always under the care of the vixens, and you didn't have the luck to sire any sons - for which you were always berated and beaten by your owner, even when she was pregnant. To her, she said, you were useless. Worthless. Even as a breeder. Still, despite not being able to hold your children in your arms, you did your best to learn of them. Some of your caretakers were kind enough to let you know their number and names. You diligently noted these details on a piece of paper, writing the names you would give your daughters if you could. Naomi. Ai. Juri. Kana. These and many more were the only connection you had to your little ones. 

It was the only good thing you left behind when you got the chance to flee. 

Internal rivalry between daughters, sisters and mothers was commonplace, so much so that it sometimes evolved into internal wars - you made use of one. Matsui made quite the negative reputation for herself, not just by mistreating you, but by cheating other families. They were out for blood, and although they wanted to steal you away for themselves, Matsui’s heirs decided that you deserved a chance. Once the fighting broke out, they took you away, threw you on a small boat you had no idea how to pilot and kicked you out to sea. 

It was hardly pleasant at the moment, but you would always thank them for taking pity on you after you landed in Inazuma. In the human nation of thunder, everything felt foreign. It was a bigger island, with long stretches of empty fields between sparse human settlements. These smaller, mortal creatures were quite the nuisance to you - although you saw a few traders in your life, you never got to take a closer look. But, instinctually, you know that stumbling into the view of a human guard was a mistake. You ran away and tried to hide amongst the jagged cliffs near the island's largest mountains, but you had unknowingly walked right into the hands of another, pink haired vixen. 

Your arrival in Inazuma was noticed instantly. After all, humans haven't seen a fox other than Yae Miko for a few centuries now. When she initially heard the news, she couldn't believe it - definitely, it was just another poorly-observed monster, or a mere trick of the light. But she still wanted to confirm that rumor, and the moment she saw a white pair of ears amongst the usual crowds of Inazuma City, she had a single thought - to catch you. Snatch you right up in a net, for whatever silly, selfish reason, if only to touch you and ensure you were real. It wasn't a surprise for her that you panicked and hid as quickly as you showed up - you had reasons to believe your freedom would be unwelcome. Finding you was barely a challenge for her nose, and with the help of a few shrine maidens, you were captured and brought back to her residence. 

What an incredible sight, you were. Definitely one for very, very sore eyes - Miko has long since abandoned the hopes of finding a partner of her own species and having a litter, which definitely contributed to her cynicism and general exhaustion with life. But here you were, real and in the flesh. An actual dog. A handsome, muscular dog. Soon enough, however, Miko's initial excitement dwindled and the factual gravity of things reached her senses. In front of her, curled on the floor, was a dirty, underfed, terrified creature. For somebody that, in the post-cataclysm circumstances of human society she was born into, would shake every room he would enter, you were frightful and quiet. You needed proper care, so Miko announced you would be staying with her until further notice. She then rolled up her sleeves and got to work. 

There was no doubt that you could understand her, and speak by extension, but you were significantly suspicious of her. Surely, she would want to chain you down again, you thought. She might even be worse than Matsui for all you know. Each meal she offered could contain one of these strange powders they made you eat when you were misbehaving, putting you to sleep and letting her do Archons-know-what to you. So you pushed the bowl away, and her alongside it. You had to stay strong. 

She takes the handle into her hands and, as gently as she can, pushes it down. The room before her is bathed in darkness, but her eyes pierce through it without issue. The matches she left on the table are untouched. 

What a surprise, she muses. 

From the moment her foot stepped over the threshold, there has been a pair of eyes boring into her frame. Miko casts a discreet glance towards the bedside corner. The resting spot itself was stripped of everything besides the mattress, now placed into a cozy nest of blankets and pillows in the safest spot in the room, the point furthest away from the door. From there your E/C surveyed Miko's every move. A part of her couldn't hold a smile. The unfortunate circumstances aside, it was quite adorable. 

“Good evening.” Miko says, picking up a candle from the shelf. She puts the plate of food she brought on the table and lights it, illuminating the space with a warm, flickering light. Placing the candle close to herself, she looks directly your way. 

There is no response. Your eyes continue staring at her, unblinking. 

No luck just yet. But I clearly have his attention, at the very least. 

A sigh escapes her lips. Miko takes the plate and steps a bit closer to you. “You clearly don't trust me. I can assure you I mean you no harm, and that I won't do anything against your wish, but I bet you want to see for yourself. And while that is alright, I doubt you will get to, the way things are going now.” She crouches down, placing it on the wooden floor. “You must have been through a lot, but please, you need to eat. I don't know what you enjoy the most, so I feel like this is the right place to start.”

Again, you remain still. Up close, Miko can see the blank expression on your face, dirty with mud, sweat and dried blood. Miko rolls her eyes, but manages to silence the groan of frustration before it forms. By no stretch of the imagination was she the best person to take you in, but if not her, then who?

Do you want to be difficult? Fine then. Two can play at that game. 

“Alright then. Suit yourself - if you don't feel like helping yourself to this positively scrumptious meal, I will.” Miko takes the single pair of chopsticks she brought in her hands and lifts a piece of sushi from the plate up to her mouth. She hums ostensibly, enjoying the taste of cold-smoked salmon. 

Something moves in the darkness. Your ears are fully up and pointed her way, like radar dishes picking up every crunch and smack of her lips. The plump, snow white rice and the bright orange salmon exude a tempting smell, reminding you of just how hungry you are. If she eats it without problem, then you should be fine too…

You slowly creep forward, the blankets and pillows around you silently falling as you stretch your aching arms and legs. Miko pretends not to notice you, but in reality her ears tell her exactly what's going on. She observes as your hand emerges into the light, your eyes never leaving her figure. Her sharp eyes instantly notice how chewed your fingers are, with no white nail to see. You snatch the piece of food and sniff it. After making sure it's alright, you bite into it. The delightful taste of well-seasoned rice and real, fresh fish lights up your senses. 

You reach for another. And another. And another. Before long, Miko is pushed back in your priority list and you sit in front of her, wolfing down the food straight off the plate in her hands. The vixen smiles. 

Finally, you're eating. It might not be much, but it's a start. You are just like a stray cat, aren't you? Scared, neglected and mistreated. Afraid of every shadow. 

She delights in watching your ears tremble under the speed of your eating. 

Such a cute creature. Who would ever want to hurt you? Certainly not me. Miko tilts her head. I wonder if I can…

“Thank you for the meal.”

Your sudden words make her pause. She never once doubted you could speak, but at the same time she didn't expect you to open up at something as simple as food. It was important nonetheless - if you spoke once, it would be just a matter of time before you speak again. And then she could learn everything about you. Who you are, what you like, and most importantly, who hurt you. 

“Do not mention it, little one.” She slowly stretches out her hand towards you. “May I?”

You stop eating for a second before bringing your nose closer to her hand. It smells like salmon. You return your attention to the delicious sushi on the plate. 

With a hum of satisfaction, she places her hand between your ears. They fold to the sides, making way for her. Miko rubs her hand over your grimy, brownish fur. It was white once, for sure, but now that colour is just barely showing in places. No worries - she would wash you and make sure your coat will return to its undoubtedly splendid layer. 

“I'm here. It will be alright.”

There's a long road ahead of us. But you won't have to walk it alone, dear. 

Equals - Yae Miko X Kitsune!Male!Reader

Thanks for reading!

1 month ago

when the sun came up

Summary:  “So,” Jackie trails off sheepishly. “You, uh– You know how vampire’s need blood…?” A/N: the "jackie's a vampire 😍" fic in question

“What are you being so weird about, Jackie?” You ask finally, getting irritated by her constant glances. She looks surprised, almost as if she truly believed you wouldn’t notice. With a roll of your eyes, you lean back on the chair, setting your phone down on her desk as you give her your full attention. Jackie starts fiddling anxiously with her fingers as she glances around the room in a pathetic attempt to feign innocence.

Acting was never her strong suit, expressions always unconvincing and exaggerated; More reminiscent of a cartoon character than a real person. Despite her failure, there’s still something undeniably charming underneath it all even as Jackie’s awkward energy ends her ruse before it can even begin. While she hasn’t succeeded in fooling you she’s definitely succeeded in getting your attention.

Watching Jackie attempting to shake your attention is bizarre, to say the least. Never once have you seen her shy away from soaking up every bit of approval and attention you give her. Yet she seems almost eager for you to move on to something else which makes you grow more concerned by the second. You’re filled with a strange mixture of curiosity and unease, both vying for your attention.

“Jackie?” You prompt again, smiling invitingly at her as she finally meets your eyes.

She clears her throat awkwardly, fingers resting against her legs as she starts rolling the edge of her shorts back and forth between her fingers. “So,” Jackie trails off sheepishly. “You, uh– You know how vampires need blood…?”

You nod your head, lips twitching as you suppress your smile. You know exactly where this is heading. “Yeah.”

“Could I… Could I have some?” Jackie asks, quickly flushing with embarrassment. She watches you closely, hope evident on her face.

“Like… from me?” You ask slowly. Unlike Jackie, you were good at feigning innocence.

“Yeah. Just like a little bit,” She pleads, gesturing with her hands as she holds her thumb and index finger just barely apart. “You won't even know it was gone, promise.” 

She's utterly fixated on you, staring at your neck like it holds the secrets to the universe. You hum in consideration, enjoying the way Jackie squirms in desperation as you pretend to think it over. After a moment you hold your arm out invitingly toward her and she's across the room and in your lap before you can blink, literally. 

You forget just how strong and fast she's become, and sometimes you think she does too. The chair rocks dangerously on its back two legs as Jackie slides in your lap. You close your eyes in wait for the inevitable crash but Jackie's reflexes are just fast enough to plant her foot firmly, sending you crashing back forward as the chair settles. It rocks ominously for a second before stilling, Jackie quickly taking the chance to scoot up your legs. 

Your hands rest loosely on her hips as you try to make sense of what just happened, just a hair too fast for your mind to fully make sense of. You can feel the thrum of your heartbeat in your fingertips as your heart races through your chest. Jackie makes an apologetic noise as she slips her arms between your back and the chair, pulling herself snugly against you. 

You squeeze her hips in a gentle sign of affection as you slip your hands up the back of her shirt, wrapping your arms tightly around her bare back. If it has the side effect of pulling her shirt up, well that's no one's business but your own. You hear a snort of laughter that you'll know she'll deny later– and threaten to tell people about the incident if you don't keep it to yourself– which makes you grin as you bury your head into her neck. You breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume, slowly relaxing back against the chair as it calms your racing heart. 

You bite lightly at her neck, barely grazing the skin before you hear a petulant noise coming from Jackie. “That's my job,” She complains, slapping at your shoulder as she leans back and pulls her neck out of reach. 

“Oh? Is it?” You tease, a smile splitting your face as you watch her. 

She nods eagerly, just a hint of her fangs peeking out of her smile. Your eyes narrow at the sight, leaning forward to get a closer look. She practically preens as she widens her smile, clearly appreciating your admiration of her fangs.

You reach up to cup her jaw and Jackie immediately nuzzles her face into your palm as she closes her eyes with a contented noise. You roll your eyes fondly as you end up supporting the weight of her head, adjusting your grip to press your thumb against her lips.

Jackie just barely peeks her eyes open as she presses a kiss against your thumb, the beginning of a question forming on her face. You press your thumb against one of her sharp fangs, sighing quietly as it pierces the skin and draws a drop of blood. You watch her expression closely as her tongue flicks out to taste the blood, teasing at the edge of the cut as she lazily draws the remaining drops in her mouth.

You shudder involuntarily as she swallows, the intimacy of the action catching you off guard. You’re not sure that you’ll ever get used to the sight of her drinking your blood. "Tastes good," Jackie finally says, licking her lips as she pulls away.

Jackie’s gaze flits down to your neck, her eyes filled with longing. She leans forward and inhales deeply as she buries her face into the crook of your neck. Her hand cups the other side as she tilts your head, her warm breath caressing your ear. “Please?” She whispers, voice a soft plea tinged with her desperation.

Jackie's lips just barely graze your skin, sending shivers down your spine as you feel the gentle pressure from the tips of her fangs. “Go ahead, Jackie,” You say, hissing in surprise as she doesn’t hesitate to sink her teeth in. She presses herself impossibly closer to you with a muffled moan, her fingers clenched tightly at your shirt as she greedily sucks at the wound. You thread your fingers loosely through her hair, cradling her head as you relax limply against the chair. 

“Fuck,” You murmur slowly, tilting your head back enticingly as Jackie makes use of the available space. With each drop of blood she takes from you a heady mix of exhilaration and vulnerability washes over you, both intoxicating and unnerving at the same time. It’s a strange intimacy, a connection borne in the exchange of life; the knowledge that your blood is what sustains her, what gives her the strength she wields over you. 

It should make you feel weak to be entirely at her mercy, but you’ve never felt stronger than you do when Jackie drinks from you. You revel in her desire for you, eagerly embracing the weight of her unending hunger.

You'd majorly psyched yourself out the first time she'd asked this of you, thoughts of her teeth digging into your flesh had left you such a nervous wreck that your hands were visibly shaking as she descended on you. You were pleasantly surprised at just how good it felt once you got past the initial bite. There was barely a difference from Jackie's more possessive moments, intent to mark you up at the slightest sign of interest from someone else. You were sure that it could hurt if she wanted it to, but your girlfriend was steadfastly gentle in everything she did. With her arms wrapped around you, even the act of feeding became an intimate exchange, another bond that only the two of you would ever share.

You take a shaky breath as Jackie drinks her fill, trying your best to ignore her breathy noises of enjoyment in favor of keeping your eyes open. You get more lightheaded the longer she's attached herself to you, her lack of the need for air never more apparent than in these moments. She pulls away as you begin to slump back in the chair, soothing the bite with her tongue as she savors every last drop. You blink wearily up at her, faced with the impossible task of keeping your eyes open.

Jackie stands up happily, watching herself in the mirror over your shoulder as she licks at her thumb and rubs the stray blood off her face. A quiet laugh escapes your lip, more of an exhale than a sound. “Messy,” You murmur with a weak smile on your face.

“Shut up,” Jackie defends, pulling on your hand as she tries to coax you to your feet. You let her pull you up, but quickly slump into her arms as your shaky legs betray you. Jackie grunts as she catches you, grunting dramatically in exertion even as she effortlessly guides you back to her bed.

She climbs up excitedly to straddle your lap as you recline back against the pillows. You make a surprised noise as she leans down and kisses you, pulling back after a moment when she realizes you aren’t reciprocating. “Y/N,” Jackie whines, pouting down at you. 

You lazily shake your head, not bothering to open your eyes. “Too much,” You accuse weakly.

“Did not,” Jackie protests. “You’re fine. Look!” She lifts your hand pointedly, staring in dismay as it falls limply back to the bed.

“Oh,” She murmurs sheepishly. “That's… That’s my bad, really.” 

You make a vaguely amused noise in response that turns into a contented sigh as Jackie settles down on top of you. She buries her head in your neck, placing a tender kiss against the bite mark she’s left as she maneuvers your arms around to wrap around her.

7 months ago

eventually you realize you don’t want to die. you just don’t want to live the life you’re living. and slowly you try to create a life you want to live. just gotta start there.

1 month ago

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

1 month ago

Stone Skipping

Stone Skipping

Summary: The Batfamily has always been so crazy that no one notices the silent sister. She’s made her way through college with no one else realizing, sometimes forgetting about her completely. How many times can she bounce back before sinking?

Warnings: Angst?

Request: No

Pairing?: Family; Batfamily x Sister! Reader

———

A smile dawned on the young women’s face as her friends cheerfully greeted her. (Y/n) Wayne was a popular girl at the University whether it be by her looks, brains, or money she was certainly no idiot. It was her college graduation, a huge day for so many people this year and even bigger for her as her family swore they'd attend. They hadn’t gone to anything related to her success since, well, ever! (Y/n) tried not to get bothered by it, brushing it off calmly. She knew her father and brothers were busy people, far to go to every little thing that revolved around her.

This time however, they promised they’d come. No playing hero, no meetings, no dates, just be a supportive family like she had seen them be. It was the only thing she wished to have, her family there for her and to spend time with her. They had gone to Tim’s high school graduation but not hers due to Poison Ivy. They couldn’t got to an orchestra concert that she was part of because of a meeting. They didn’t even bother to wonder what school (Y/n) had chosen to attend.

Yeah, she was ticked off by it but she understood. Their jobs were important, they saved people, she was part of that people. The world needed them both ways, civilian and hero. (Y/n) didn’t have a place in the hero department, she was just an average person that walked the streets and attended school. Her brothers chased villains at night and ran businesses and had jobs in the morning. The only thing (Y/n) had was her looks and her brains, mostly her brains. She would graduate to become better in the medical field, she was going somewhere in life and she was happy about it.

That’s why the heartbroken feeling flowed through her as she got her diploma. No one but Alfred was there, she appreciated the fact that he came but the rest of the family had no excuse. She was updated on the news constantly, no attacks in Gotham or anywhere else in the world. The world was quiet and her heart shatttering was the only thing to be heard. A false but well practiced smile came along her face before she walked down the steps.

Alfred watched her sadly, he couldn’t believe he was the only one that had arrived. He was the only one to truly have seen the amazing young woman that she was now. Seeing her walk down the steps toward the rest of her class with a false smile made his anger grow. She had never complained about one thing in her whole life except for once, that one time when she complained that Bruce spent to much time doing work with her brothers rather than them all spending time as a family. (Y/n) had been 12 when that happened and her brothers only scowled at her for her words.

Dick was nicer about how he went about it, saying that the world needed them as both civilians and heroes so they didn’t have much free time. It was true but they weren’t the words that (Y/n) wanted to hear at that moment.

Tim was blunt about it, Alfred tried to blame it on the lack of sleep but neither parties had believed that. He said that she should’ve joined the group and worked for it rather than whine about it. (Y/n) almost smacked him for that but she kept her control on the situation.

Jason had been thought to be dead but when he heard about it he just gave her pitiful look and told her it was too dangerous and if Bruce wanted her in the tradition then he would have. (Y/n) frowned at him but she had known it was the truth, she told him to no longer pity her before she left the room.

Bruce had just sighed and said they’d talk about it at another time, they never did.

It was Damian that surprised him, he just nodded at her in understanding. Alfred had later heard two sounds of crying from (Y/n)’s room that night. He left it alone but he had at least hoped Damian would be there to congratulate her.

“Congratulations Miss Wayne,” Alfred said as he wrapped her in a hug as soon as he reunited with her. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Alfred. I’m glad you could be here, do you know where the others are?”

The butler saw hope in her eyes, just a small spark but it killed his to extinguish it. “I’m afraid not. Master Bruce hasn’t come home from work and neither has Master Tim. Master Dick is at his home. Master Jason is who knows where.”

“And Damian?”

“I believe he got caught up at school.”

(Y/n) nodded, that made sense at the very least. Education was important and if Damian missed any of his own she’d never forgive herself. Yes, she was very aware that her little brother was a Senior and the best in his year who could probably afford to miss a few day but she’d never let him. It was her other brothers and father that disappointed her, she didn’t bother tell Steph about it, the girl was so forgetful at times. Cass was in China so there was no point in calling her from a case to see if she could come.

Alfred watched sadly as the young woman hugged her friends goodbye before they left. She had a family here and now she was leaving it. (Y/n) climbed into the passenger side of the car and looked out of the window as they drove toward Gotham.

When they got home Bruce stood there inside, waiting at the door. “Alfred! There you are! I was worried you might have been kidnapped.”

“I was fine Master Bruce,” Alfred responded, sending a cold look toward the man. “However, I have work to do and Miss (Y/n) is here now. Why don’t you catch up with her? Lot’s to talk about I’m sure.”

A small smile graced the female’s lips but was replaced by a frown as her father shook her head. “I can’t, I have work to do for the League.”

“Why do you never want to spend time with me?” (Y/n) blurted out loud. She was tired of brushing it off all the time because she herself was brushed off.

Bruce sighed, “It’s not like that. Besides we talk a lot don’t we? You know I’m a busy man, I can’t just drop everything because you wish to spend time with me.”

“So where were you today?”

“What? What happened today?”

The (h/c) haired woman rolled her eyes, “You claim you be there for the people when they need you. Well guess what dad? I needed you today, at my college graduation, the one you promised you’d go to when the only one that had come was Alfred? Well I’m sorry that I complain about not getting to spend time with my own damned family!

“I hoped that you wouldn’t forget or randomly come up as busy but I should’ve known to never get my hopes up when it comes to you and the rest of my brothers! The only reason why Damian is off the hook is because he had school, you have no excuse. You were never there. Never once. You know nothing but my name.”

“I know lots about you sweetheart.”

“Really? What’s my favorite color?”

“(Most hated color).”

(Y/n) shook her head, “It’s (Favorite color). Face it you know nothing about me. I made the mistake of coming back here. I’m leaving after all my stuff is packed and I say goodbye to Damian and Alfred. I’m done being brushed off to the side. And for the record, this is my second time complaining about this. Last time was ten years ago.”

With that the woman brushed past her father, taking her packed things from college behind her and toward the bedrooms. She was tired of being brushed off, she was leaving Gotham behind, for good. Now, she just had to see if her little brother wanted to come with her.

Notes: I may make a second part of requested. Tell me how you liked it. This is my first piece of work on tumblr for writing.

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