dc comics dih rider

[vastlycruelterror]

No Laughing Matter

Pairing: Wally West x Batsis!Reader

Summary: You're the only biological daughter or Bruce Wayne, a product of a one night stand and left outside the front gates to the manner with just a simple note as an explanation. You spent the first years of your life training under Batman as Batgirl, now you have your own identity: Nyx. Until one day a mission goes wrong, you end up in an old abandoned factory all alone with the Joker, left to rot for years. You find your way back to life again when Wally West seems to start appearing everywhere you go and seems to have absolutely no idea what personal space is.

Warnings: dark, gore, maybe eventually smut, violence, (will add as story progresses)

Note: This is literally my first time writing anything on here so I'm a little nervous and I hope all of you guys enjoy this and if anyone has suggestions on something they would like to see lmk!!!

Masterlist:

About Batsis!Reader Chapter one Chapter two Chapter three Chapter four

[vastlycruelterror]

'i love you :)' part 2

summary: reader and Jason were dating before his death, during that time each of you wrote love letters to each other, a few weeks before he died he wrote: 'i love you :)' on one of them. when you turn 18, getting this tattooed is the first thing you do

warnings: slight angst, mention of death, crying, happy ending?

word count: 2325

note: read part one here!! this is a continuation to a story I was writing about this post. sorry for the long wait, this is going to sound crazy but I was in a car accident (IM OKAY THOUGH DONT WORRY) and I've been so stressed with dealing with everything so I have not had a lot of time to write. I hope you guys enjoy where I decided to take this story, I wasn't planning on a part 2 but you guys asked so I deliver!! also for my wally series, I don't know when part 5 will be out, I'm not really sure where I want to take that story so it might be a long time before another part comes out... soooo in the meantime please send me request on what you all want to see!!! my inbox should be open and I really want to write more so send away!!! sorry if the ending seems sort of rushed, I didn't know exactly how I wanted it to end. hope you all enjoy this!

He hears you sliding down the door, he hears the silent sobs that you let out but he knows there’s nothing he can do about it. He stands there, leaning his own head against your door before he finally walks away, wiping his eyes before the tears can fall down. His ride home is quiet, the rest of his night is quiet, and his next morning is quiet. The only thing on his mind is you, how can he get you to believe him? How can he get you to trust him? 

How can he get you back into his life? 

---

You don’t know how long you stayed on your floor, curled up into a ball as you cry. Maybe an hour? two? When the tears finally dry up you decide to grab your pint of ice cream and watch a documentary about giraffes on your couch before you eventually fall asleep. 

You wake up confused, seeing the ‘Are you still watching’ on your TV and a melted puddle of ice cream on your coffee table. Your night trickles back into your mind, the man you looked too much like Jason for your liking. You felt bad, maybe he was trying to tell you something, maybe your mail got delivered to the wrong address, maybe he hit your car, maybe you left your wallet somewhere, maybe he just moved in and was trying to make friends. Maybe it was a cruel joke, somehow knowing you when you were 15 and wanted to play with your feelings. If that’s what this man wanted he was successful. 

Know your mind is still in the same state as it was those first few months after the news reached you. You did nothing but eat, cry, and sleep. Maybe I should reach out to Bruce, you thought. If this man was messing with you he might be messing with Bruce and Dick too. They used to reach out to you a lot, now it's been over a year since you last heard from either of them. You understand that, you were just Bruce’s son’s highschool girlfriend, you’re not that important to the family, but god was Jason important to you. 

You don’t think you’ve lasted a day without thinking about him, you visit his grave whenever the flowers from your previous visit are on their last leg. You tell him about your life, telling him about college and the new books you’ve been reading. 

You decide to make a visit today. Taking a shower to wash off the salty tears and then changing into comfy clothes, you head out to the flower shop that you always go to. You buy a bouquet of wild flowers. The first time you visited his grave you didn’t have the money for a whole bouquet so you went to a nearby park and picked your own. Now that you can actually buy some, you still want them to look like they used to. 

You like to walk to the cemetery, it gives you more time to think and sometimes you cry so much on your walk back that you know you wouldn’t be able to drive. You have the location of his grave memorized, knowing the exact row and number the headstone is. You walk slowly, careful not to step on top of anyone’s grave. As you get closer you notice a big figure kneeling on top of the exact grave that you’re walking towards. The figure is wearing all black and has a hood up. A pit forms in your stomach, you’ve never seen anyone else visiting his grave before, not even his family. And it’s especially weird that anyone else would pay him a visit after five years. 

--- 

Jason wasn’t planning on visiting his grave today, he hasn’t in over a year, but seeing you yesterday made him mourn the person he was five years ago. He tried to look discreet, worried someone might recognize him, and his intuition must be right. He noticed you well before you probably noticed him. He saw you walking towards the cemetery with a big bouquet in hand. He noticed the flowers next to his headstone that were probably a few days away from dying. He should be grateful but if anything he just feels more guilt, guilt for making you still mourn him even after all these years, guilt that he is still causing you pain. 

He hears your footsteps falter and then stop. He knows you're probably taking in his figure, trying to figure out who could be kneeling over his grave five years after his death. 

“Excuse me,” he hears you say, voice quiet, nervous, “were you a friend of Jason’s?”

Thoughts circle his mind. Should he look at you, show you his face, let you know that he’s here, that he wants to be your person again. 

“Hello?” you ask again, stepping closer, probably trying to get a look at his face. 

--- 

You watch the figure stand up, you take a few steps back as you watch the person rise to over six feet. He turns to you. It’s him again. You take in a breath, mustering up as much courage as you can, “I don’t know who you are but stop bothering me. Whatever cruel joke this is, you need to stop it.” You watch his face tense up in an all too familiar way before he takes a step closer to you, looking at your face in an almost too intense way. 

He whispers your name, hand reaching out to do who knows what before he catches himself, retracting his hand. “It’s not a joke. I just… I don’t know how to explain, just please…” Though he has a gravely voice it sounds weak and hurt. You watch as his eyes break more when you take another wary step back. 

A million questions come to your mind, “How do you know my name? Why do you look so much like him? What do you want? If you’re trying to mess with me just stop, it’s not cool to play with people’s feelings like that. You have no idea what you could be doing to people.” You feel your voice cracking near the end, you look away, embarrassed and quickly wipe your eyes, not wanting this man to see you cry because he thinks joking with people’s feelings is funny. 

“It’s… it’s me, Jason? I… I really don't know how to explain anything to you right now, I just need you to trust me. Please. I’ll… talk to Bruce, or Dick, they can tell you.”

You look at him with disbelief. You try to think back to everyone at your school, you weren’t necessarily bullied but a few kids did pick on you here and there, this man could be one of them. As much as you want to believe this is Jason you know it’s not possible, he’s dead, dead people don’t just come back to life. 

“Really? What’s something only he would know?”

You watch as the faintest glimpse of possibly hope flashes in his eyes before you see the familiar face that Jason always made when he would think hard about something. 

“That tattoo. It’s my handwriting. Still is. I can show you. We passed notes all the time because we were in a library. Our first date was getting ice cream. You were reading a book about dragons when I first talked to you,” his voice came out in a whisper and unfortunately all the things he said about you were true, which just confused you more. Did he fake his death? Did he want to get away from you? What the hell happened? But no, it’s not him, you were at the funeral, watched Bruce and Dick both break down in front of you, even when they tried to hide it. 

“I want to believe you. But Jason’s been dead for five years and I haven’t heard from him. Why are you saying you’re him after this long?” 

“I… I just… I can’t explain it to you right now. I need you to believe me. If you… If we go to the manor together, I can show you, Bruce can explain…” You look at him, you see the hurt in his eyes, hear the desperate plea in his voice. 

“Why would I follow you? You could be trying to hurt me?”

“What about just go there tonight? I’ll be there, that way you don’t have to go with me. If that makes you more comfortable. I hope I can see you there,” that was the last thing he said before he rushed out of the cemetery. You watch as he retreats, you’re not sure if you can move right now. You think your body is in shock, trying to process what happened. This man that looks exactly like Jason, or maybe is Jason, just explained nearly your entire relationship with him. How could anyone else know that? It’s not like you haven't seen unusual anomalies before, this is Gotham, and you’ve spent time in Metropolis, it’s entirely possible it’s just an entity pretending to be Jason. But you could still give it a try, call Bruce, maybe he’ll invite you to dinner and explain to you how crazy you are. At least it’ll give you some closure. 

You place the flowers next to his headstone before you kneel next to his grave and let out all of your thoughts to him. 

When you return to your small apartment you pull out your phone and stare at the contact for Bruce Wayne for about a minute before you can muster up the courage to hit call. It rings four times before you hear a “Hello? Is something wrong?”

You know Bruce always cuts straight to the point, not liking to dance around with small talk. “Bruce. I… I had a question.” The line stays silent, Bruce obviously waiting for you to finish, “Some man, I’ve seen him twice, he looks like Jason. He’s been… I don’t know… bothering me? I was just wondering if you’ve also seen him?” you hear your voice crack again, for the second time today. You hear Bruce stay quiet on the line before you hear him say your name. Softly almost? 

“Yes. But not like that. I need you to come to the manor tonight. We’ll explain everything, I will send Alfred to go pick you up.” He hangs up, before you can give an answer. Thoughts cloud your mind. He’s been bothering them too? 

At exactly 6:30 that night you hear the buzzer in your apartment. You don’t answer it, figuring it’s probably Alfred, and walk downstairs to the front of your building. 

“Hello Miss, it is good to see you again.” You smile at him, give him a ‘thank you’ when he opens the door for you. The ride is quiet, Alfred sensing that you probably don’t want to talk to him. You pull up to the manor. It still has that haunted look that you always hated whenever you came here with Jason. When you walk inside you see both Bruce and Dick around the dining table, probably waiting for you. 

“Please, sit. I need you to listen to everything that we say before you react,” you hear Bruce. This doesn’t ease your nerves. Reluctantly you sit down and listen, and barely hold back your reactions to everything they say. It doesn’t feel real to you. Jason died, somehow crawled out of his grave, was put into a pit? you couldn’t remember the name, and then lived in the Himalayas for years before coming back to Gotham. 

You wanted to laugh in their faces, they were even crazier than you were. But you stopped yourself when you noticed the serious looks on their faces and then see Jason? walk into the room. So it is Jason? 

“You’re serious?” You look at Jason and then to Bruce and Dick. 

Jason answers before Bruce or Dick can, “Yes, it’s me, I… I really… I struggled with finding a way to tell you. I hope you can… take the time to get to know me again?”

You look at him, take in his face. He looks nearly the exact same as he did when he was 15, though he definitely grew into his face since then. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay… we can take our time. Whatever you need. I just know that when I was with you, that was the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“Me too,” you say this as tears break out of your eyes, you think back to all of those moments with him, the silly dates and notes. You remember the months of mourning before it turned into acceptance. You remember the exact day that you decided to book that tattoo appointment. You want to give it another chance. 

---

It’s been a year since Jason came back into your life and you can confidently say it’s been the best year of your life. It was hard at first, you were learning each other all over again but the relationship grew. You still give notes to each other, he leaves you one when you go to class, when you get home, and you leave him some throughout your apartment for him to find when you’re gone. 

It’s perfect, not yet, you’re still stumbling around each other, trying to relearn everything, things have changed since you were fifteen. Your favorite foods aren’t the same, he learned that the hard way when he tried to cook for you the first time. But it’s working, it’s growing. 

This morning you wake up to an empty apartment, he probably left to go get breakfast or to go on a run. You walk out to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee when you see a new light blue post-it note on your fridge that says:

‘i love you :)’

Taglist: @jasontood3904000  @atadoddinnit @ollywhims @pinklyred @snowyathena

[suigenerisisadiva]

AGORA HILLS

Pairing: Wally West x Batsis!Reader

Summary: You and Wally West have spent six months loving each other in secret, built on years of quiet pining, stolen glances, and almosts. But as the world keeps pulling you apart in public, the strain of hiding something so real begins to crack… until one late-night confession changes everything.

CW: Making out, use of y/n, swearing, hidden relationships, I'm sourcing like a million different timelines so it may be confusing but it's just to show the progression of hero life (young justice, as well as Titans okay), Bruce being a good dad and tryna set his daughter up

WC: 2.6k

⤷ Part of my 4K event <3

"Baby, can you call me back? I miss you, It's so lonely in my mansion"

🎧 -> Agora Hills by Doja Cat

Wally West doesn’t fall in love all at once.

He slips into it slowly, like something he doesn’t realise he’s already drowning in.

It starts when you’re younger, two kids orbiting the same world, always in the same rooms, always laughing a little too easily around each other. You were never hard to be around.

That was the problem. You made everything feel lighter, easier, like the weight of being who you were didn’t matter as much when he was standing next to you.

At first, you’re just his friend.

His favourite person to spar with, to joke with, to sit beside at Mount Justice at ridiculous hours of the night when neither of you can sleep. He memorises your habits without meaning to—the way you tilt your head when you’re listening, the way you smile when you’re trying not to laugh.

Then one day, after several years, something shifts.

At the Titans Tower, over pizza and crappy movies, you laugh at something he says, and it lingers a second too long. Your hand brushes his, and instead of pulling away, you stay. He notices everything all at once—the way you look in your suit, the talent and skill you possess, your virtues, the way people gravitate toward you, the way he himself does. (ik it's mad cringe but stay w me now)

And suddenly, being around you isn’t just easy. He never really clocked that you both had gotten older. He never internalised the feelings he had for you, and how they matured into something greater now that you've both aged.

It’s dangerous.

Because now he wants more.

He doesn’t say anything. He can’t.

You’re you—Bruce Wayne’s daughter, little sister of his closest friends, and said friends who would literally smite him if they knew of his crush on you, you're the girl everyone watches, the girl who belongs to a world far more complicated than his.

So he does what he’s always done best (not really, but alas).

He waits, and he watches, and he flops.

Hard.

Dick notices first. Of course he does. One look at Wally across the room, staring at you like you’ve hung the stars yourself, and he’s already smirking. Jason catches on next, less amused, more suspicious. Roy takes one look and immediately decides it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

None of them say anything to you. But Wally knows they know.

It doesn’t matter.

Because you don’t.

Until you do.

It happens late one night at the Watchtower, when everything is quiet and the world feels far away. You’re sitting close, closer than usual, talking about nothing, about everything. He doesn’t plan it. He doesn’t think. His hand brushes yours, and this time, he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either.

Your fingers curl into his like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He looks at you, breath caught somewhere in his chest, and for a second, he thinks he imagined it.

But then you smile, soft and certain, and just like that—

Everything changes.

After a good conversation about what you two are now, and six months later, Wally is absolutely gone for you.

And it’s becoming a problem. Not because you don’t feel the same. Oh no, you reciprocate just as much

But because no one else knows.

The training facility at the WatchTower is loud with energy, filled with younger heroes running drills, sparring, testing limits. It’s the kind of session where everyone’s watching everyone else, measuring, learning, competing.

You’re in the centre of it.

And you’re destroying everyone.

Not in a showy way—nothing flashy or over-the-top—but precise, controlled, efficient. Every movement is deliberate. Every strike lands exactly where it should. You move like you’ve done this your entire life, like it’s second nature.

Because it is.

Wally isn’t supposed to be staring. He’s supposed to be focusing on his own training, running laps, helping where needed. Instead, he’s leaning against the wall, completely locked in on you.

Kon notices first, following Wally’s line of sight. Then Cassie. Then Bart, who grins immediately, elbowing Kon like he’s just discovered something hilarious.

“Dude,” Bart mutters, not even trying to be subtle. “He’s gone.”

Kon smirks. “That’s not a crush, that’s a full-blown situation.”

Cassie folds her arms, watching the way Wally doesn’t even blink as you take someone down and offer them a hand up right after. “Does she know?”

“Probably not,” Bart says. “But she probably will.”

Wally doesn’t hear them. He just sees you.

The way you push your hair back, the way you laugh with someone after a match, the way you carry yourself like you don’t even realise how incredible you are.

And Goodness—

He wants to tell everyone.

Later, at the Watchtower, the feeling only gets worse.

You’re leaning against the console, talking, relaxed, comfortable. Roy’s standing too close, smirking in that way he always does when he’s messing around.

“C’mon,” Roy says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “You’re telling me no one’s locked that down yet? That’s crazy.”

You roll your eyes, amused. “Maybe I’m just selective.”

“Ouch,” he grins. “Guess I didn’t make the cut.”

“You never had a chance.” (reference to my future 4k fic heheheheh)

Wally watches the whole thing from across the room, jaw tightening.

He knows Roy isn’t serious. He knows it’s just how he is—flirting for the sake of it, pushing buttons, having fun. It still bothers him more than it should.

Because Roy gets to do this. Stand close to you. Joke with you. Exist next to you without it being a secret.

Wally looks away, running a hand through his hair, frustrated in a way he can’t quite shake.

He wants that, he wants you.

It doesn’t help when he sees you on TV.

You’re sitting beside Vicki Vale, composed, elegant, every bit the Wayne the world expects you to be. The interview is light at first—charity work, appearances, your role in the public eye.

Then it shifts.

Vicki smiles, tilting her head slightly. “So, Miss Wayne, anyone special with you tonight?”

Wally’s heart stops, just for a second. You don’t hesitate, instead you smile, effortless.

“It’s just me,” you say. “That’s special enough.”

The moment passes.

But Wally doesn’t move, because he knows why you said it, doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt. But it's not like you don't feel it too, you feel it more than you let on.

At dinner that night, the manor is full, everyone scattered around the table, conversation flowing easily.

Bruce brings it up casually, like it’s just another topic.

“So, sweetheart,” he says, setting his glass down, “the boy you met last week at the gala in Municiberg—Tony. What did you think of him?”

You pause, already knowing where this conversation was heading.

“…he seems nice, Daddy. Why?”

Tim doesn’t even look up. “He’s asking because you’re a Wayne and still a single bitch.”

You kick him under the table.

“Language,” Bruce says mildly, though there’s no real bite to it. Then he looks back at you, softer. “You know I just want the best for you darling. I’d hate for you to be lonely. The rest of your siblings all have someone.”

Jason adds in "Ugh even Damian, how'd he find a girlfriend before you?"

"Nika is not my girlfriend"

"Sure buddy"

You force a small smile.

“Yeah. I know, Dad.”

But your chest feels tight, because you’re not lonely.

Not really. You just can’t say why.

You find Dinah later. Ironically, you told her before your own father.

She’s leaning against the counter in the Queen Penthouse kitchen, arms crossed, watching you with that knowing look she always has.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she says.

You huff a quiet laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only if you know what to look for.”

You lean beside her, staring at nothing in particular.

“…I love him.” It slips out before you can stop it.

Dinah doesn’t react, doesn’t make a big deal out of it. Just nods.

“I figured.”

“I just—” you exhale, frustrated. “I don’t want to hide him. I hate it. But I also don’t want everything to blow up the second we go public.”

“You’re waiting for perfect timing,” she says.

“…yeah.”

Dinah smiles slightly. “That doesn’t exist baby.”

"I don't want to hurt Dick, and I hate lying to my dad and my family about him. But people talk Dinah."

"They always have, you can't stop it." She reminds you

"S'not fair" You mumble.

Wally finds Barry. Of course he does.

Barry’s halfway through something when Wally shows up, pacing slightly, energy restless.

“Okay,” Barry says, already clocking it. “What’s wrong.”

Wally runs a hand through his hair. “I’m tired.”

“Of?”

“Not being able to say she’s mine.”

Barry softens immediately.

“…that bad, huh?”

Wally laughs quietly. “Yeah. That bad.”

He looks down, shaking his head.

“I’ve wanted her for so long, Barry. And now I have her—and I still can’t… have her.”

Barry nods slowly.

“Sounds like you already know what you want to do.”

“…yeah.”

Wally exhales.

“I just don’t know if she’s ready.”

That night—

You call him.

Or try to.

He doesn’t pick up the first time.

So you leave a message, voice soft, tired, honest in a way you only are with him.

“Baby, can you call me back? I miss you… I'm lonely.”

It’s quiet after that.

Too quiet.

And somewhere down the hall—

Alfred hears everything.

-

It starts before you even walk into the room.

Which, in hindsight, is already a bad sign.

The Batcave is quieter than usual, but not empty, Dick’s leaning against one of the consoles, Jason’s sprawled in a chair like he owns the place, Tim’s typing away with that focused intensity that means he’s absolutely listening to everything, and Steph is perched nearby, scrolling through something on her phone.

Duke’s there too, arms folded, watching the others like he’s waiting for something to happen.

“…I’m telling you,” Steph says, lowering her phone slightly. “She’s been weird lately.”

Jason huffs. “She’s always weird.”

“Not like this,” Steph insists. “Like—smiling at her phone weird.”

Tim doesn’t look up. “Technically, that indicates external stimulation.”

“…she has a life, Tim,” Dick says.

“Not one we know about,” Tim replies.

That gets a pause.

Jason leans forward slightly. “…you think she’s got a guy?”

Steph gasps like this is the most exciting thing she’s heard all week. “Oh my god, she does.”

Duke raises a brow. “You’re jumping.”

“I’m not jumping, I’m connecting dots,” Steph says. “She’s been leaving the room to take calls, she’s been dodging questions, and she literally ignored Roy flirting with her last week.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “She ignored Roy?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s suspicious.”

Dick exhales, rubbing his face. “…or she just didn’t feel like entertaining him.”

“No,” Steph says firmly. “No, something’s up.”

Tim finally pauses his typing, looking up slowly.

“…if she is hiding something,” he says, “it would have to be significant enough to warrant concealment from all of us.”

Jason leans back. “So… a relationship.”

Silence.

They all think about it.

Then—

“…no way,” Dick mutters.

Steph grins. “Oh, there is absolutely a way.”

By the time you walk into the manor dining room the next morning, the energy is already off.

You feel it immediately.

The way conversations pause for just a second too long. The way Steph is smiling like she knows something. The way Jason is watching you like you’re about to confess to a crime. You narrow your eyes as you take your seat.

“…why are you all looking at me like that.”

“No reason,” Dick says too quickly.

“Just observing,” Tim adds.

“Admiring,” Steph corrects.

Jason smirks. “Waiting.”

You blink.

“…for what.”

“No idea,” Duke says, though he doesn’t look convinced.

You reach for your coffee slowly. “You’re all being weird.”

“Are we?” Steph hums.

“Yes.”

“Interesting.”

You stare at her. “I hate you.”

“Love you too.”

Your father hasn’t said anything yet. That’s what really sets you on edge.

He’s at the head of the table, composed as ever, reading something on his tablet like none of this concerns him—but you know better.

He’s listening.

And then—

Alfred clears his throat.

It’s soft and polite, but it cuts through the room like a blade.

“I do hope,” he begins, setting down a plate in front of you, “that your late-night phone conversations are not interfering with your rest, Miss.”

Everything stops.

Your hand freezes halfway to your cup.

“…I’m sorry?”

Steph’s eyes go wide.

Tim’s head snaps up.

Dick goes completely still.

Alfred smiles pleasantly, like he hasn’t just detonated a bomb in the middle of breakfast.

“I happened to overhear a rather… affectionate exchange last evening.” (alfred in his snitching era)

Your heart drops.

Straight to the floor.

“No,” you say immediately. “No, you didn’t—”

“‘Baby, can you call me back? I'm so loneyl’” Jason recites, grinning like he’s just been handed the best material of his life.

You whip your head toward him. “YOU WERE LISTENING?”

“I wasn’t,” he says. “But I am now.”

“Oh my god.”

Tim’s already typing something, eyes narrowed. “Timestamp?”

“Tim!” you snap.

Dick runs a hand through his hair, staring at you like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle in real time.

“…you have a boyfriend.”

It’s not a question.

Steph gasps again, practically vibrating. “YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?”

“I don’t—”

“You said ‘baby,’” Duke points out.

“That could be anyone—”

“You said ‘I'm lonley",’” Tim adds.

“…so?!”

Jason leans forward, eyes sharp now. “How long.” You stand up abruptly, chair scraping loudly.

“I’m not doing this.”

Bruce finally speaks. “Sit.”

You stop, because when he uses that tone—

You sit. Slowly.

“…I’d like an explanation.” Your mind is racing, heart pounding, every possible outcome flashing through your head at once.

“…it’s not that serious,” you try.

Jason laughs. “Six months, calling someone ‘baby,’ and it’s not serious?” Your stomach drops.

“…how do you know it’s six months.”

Tim doesn’t look up. “You’ve been acting differently for like twenty-four weeks.”

You stare at him.

“…I hate you.”

“Noted.”

Bruce’s gaze hasn’t left you.

“…who is it.”

There’s no point lying, not anymore, not with all of them looking at you like this.

You swallow.

“…Wally.”

Silence.

Then—

Jason stands up so fast his chair nearly falls over, Dick grabs his arm immediately. “Nope. Sit down.”

“I’m calm,” Jason says.

“You are not calm.”

Steph is staring at you like you’ve just revealed the plot twist of the century. “Wally? As in Wally West?”

You nod weakly. Damian is yet to say anything but his expression is nothing but good.

Tim leans back slowly. “…that tracks.”

Duke exhales. “Okay. Yeah. I see it.”

Jason points at you. “He’s dead.”

“He’s not—”

“He’s breathing now,” Jason corrects. “That’s temporary.”

Bruce’s voice cuts through again.

“…how long.”

“…six months.”

That does it.

Dick lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Six months? You hid this for six months?”

Bruce exhales slowly, processing.

Then—

“Call him.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“Now.”

Wally answers on the first ring.

“Hey, baby—”

“Hi,” you cut in quickly. “You’re on speaker.”

There’s a pause.

“…what.”

“Hi, Wally,” Dick says.

“Hello, Wallace,” Bruce adds.

“…oh my god,” Wally breathes.

You close your eyes. “They know.”

“…yeah, I gathered.”

A beat.

Then—

“…I’m coming over.”

-

The news spreads faster than either of you expect, because of course it does.

Your family knows and that’s already too many people.

And then somehow—

The hero world starts catching on. It’s subtle at first. A glance here. A comment there.

Bart figures it out in about three seconds.

“WAIT—” he says loudly in the middle of the Watchtower. “YOU TWO ARE A THING?”

Kon blinks. “Oh.”

Cassie crosses her arms, smirking. “Took you long enough.”

Roy laughs. “I knew it!”

Wally groans. “Of course you did.”

Dick just shakes his head. “You weren’t subtle.”

“…we thought we were,” you say.

“You were not,” Tim replies.

And then—

You post.

It’s not a full reveal, not a statement.

Just a picture.

Your hand in his, fingers intertwined, the background is blurred, but anyone who knows you knows

The caption is simple.

boyfriend <3.

The internet explodes.

upcoming tracks: cry for me - jason todd

a/n: hope you all enjoyed <33

[vastlycruelterror]

'i love you :)'

summary: reader and Jason were dating before his death, during that time each of you wrote love letters to each other, a few weeks before he died he wrote: 'i love you :)' on one of them. when you turn 18, getting this tattooed is the first thing you do

warnings: angst, death, it is implied that readers parents are absent, attempted mugging, teenage love, reader uses she/her pronouns

word count: 2557

note: this is based off of this post by @starr-jazz. this is their original idea and I thought it was so cute and good!!! they've given me permission to write this fic that's based off of this post (thank you so much!!!) I wrote this to take a short little break from my Wally series, I am currently writing chapter five and it should be out soon but I saw this post and I really wanted to write something based off of it. I wrote this super quick, like in literally an hour (I just couldn't wait to write it!) so if there's any mistakes I didn't catch ignore them (please). this is my first time writing for Jason, hope you all enjoy and as always feedback, suggestions, and recommendations/requests are always welcome <333

part 2 here

You met Jason at the library. You went there to read and to find a quiet place to hang out after school. Jason was there a few days each week, constantly exchanging old books out for new ones. You were only 14, having just started high school. Though lots of people attended Gotham High you couldn’t seem to place him. You thought he may be new to town, maybe moved here from Blüdhaven or Metropolis. Each time he came to the library you took silent notice of him. You couldn’t help yourself, you were young and he seemed around your age and he was attractive, you couldn’t lie. This was your first real crush. 

He easily noticed your constant staring. It was hard to ignore when a young pretty girl was making extreme eye contact with him from across the library with her jaw slightly open. He hated to admit it but he started reading his books faster just so he could stop by the library more frequently to see you. Even though Bruce had nearly every book in the world, he couldn’t break the habit of using the library. He figured you attended Gotham High, as you were always here right when school got out. Bruce never put him into any school, deciding that he could teach him enough about life. He loved being Robin, the last two years with Bruce were the best years of his life. 

You couldn’t believe it, the pretty boy was walking over to you. Your mind started racing to all the possibilities on why he would be walking this way. You were sitting in the fantasy section, it was your favorite genre. You noticed he always stuck by the classic section, so he couldn’t be walking over here for a book. Right? He was probably your age so maybe he’s still exploring genres. But no, you only ever see him pick classic books. Maybe he was going to meet up with a friend? You looked around, nope, you were the only one in this section. He’s almost right in front of you and you quickly avoid any eye contact and focus on the book in front of you, your eyes going over the same sentences over and over. 

“Hi. I’m Jason.” 

You look up, feeling heat rush up into your cheeks. You look at his face, your first time seeing it up close. “Hi,” being the only thing you can mutter out. Realizing he told you his name and you never told him yours, you quickly mutter it out in a series of stutters. He repeats your name to himself. 

“It’s nice to meet you. What book are you reading?”

“Oh, just some stupid fantasy book. About dragons or something,” your voice goes down in volume by the end of your sentence. The red on your cheeks have no sign of leaving and suddenly you feel embarrassed by the fact that you’re reading a book about dragons. 

“That’s cool, I love dragons!” 

“Really?” you feel a smile start to rise up on your cheeks and you finally look at his face for the second time. 

The next few weeks, each time he comes to the library he walks over to sit with you. It started out as just fifteen minutes and now he’s sitting with you for hours. You started arriving home later and later each night, though you know your parents don’t mind, they never seem to care about anything anymore, you can’t actually remember the last time that you saw them. After being whisper-yelled at by the librarian for talking too loud or laughing too loud, the two of you started to write notes to each other. They were your own private conversations, absolutely no one else in the library has any idea what you two are always giggling about. 

One day he slides you a folded note. When you open it, it says: 

Do you want to get ice cream with me tonight? 

▢ yes 

▢ no

You quickly mark your answer, fold it back up, and slide it over to him. When he opens it you notice a big smile creeping up on his face before he looks at you. You see the silent question in his eyes. Now? You nod, pack up your stuff, and follow him out of the library to a small ice cream truck down the street. He orders a strawberry cone with sprinkles while you get a hot fudge sundae. He pays for both of your ice creams, though you do try to fight him on it and eventually give up when you realize you didn’t have your wallet with you. 

“I promise I’ll pay you back. Or pay for your ice cream next time?”

“You don’t have to, it’s my treat. And next time I’ll still be paying.” 

After hearing that he would also want another hang out outside of the library you feel your cheeks heat up and a small smile spreads across your cheeks. You both enjoy your ice cream while sitting on a small park bench that the two of you found. You sit there and talk to each other until the sun goes down. He looks at his watch, “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You’re surprised, usually it’s you that has to leave first, “Yeah! I’ll see you tomorrow, good night!” Before he leaves he gives you a quick hug and then runs off. 

This goes on for more weeks. Almost everyday he slides you a note asking if you wanted to go somewhere. Sometimes it’s food and sometimes it’s just a long walk around a park. Each time though you feel like you’re growing closer and closer to him. 

One day, when he slides you a note he seems more nervous than normal. When you open it, you see a different kind of question: Can I be your boyfriend?

▢ yes 

▢ no

You immediately blush, looking up at him to see him run his hand over the back of his neck anxiously. You pick up your pen, eagerly writing a big X in the box by yes, and slide the note back over to him. You watch as he quickly unfolds it and looks up at you in a big smile before getting up and giving you a big hug, the biggest one he’s ever given you. 

A few more weeks pass, more dates pass, and you have your first kiss. It was awkward but at least you were awkward together. He invited you over to his house, to meet his dad and his older brother. Instead of walking to his house like you thought, a car pulls up in front of the library to pick the both of you up. You look at him nervously before you see him give you a quick nod of reassurance. 

If you thought the private car was anything, the mansion that you saw in front of you was even greater. You look over at Jason, “Who is your family?” 

“Um. My dad, my adoptive dad I mean, is Bruce. Bruce Wayne.” 

You look at him in shock. You never got a hint of a spoiled rich boy in him, just a joyful kid who never seemed to complain about anything. He opens the door and helps you out before walking you into the manor, where you see in front of you The Bruce Wayne. You feel your throat almost close up due to the nerves. 

“Hi Mr. Wayne, it’s nice to meet you,” you somehow manage to mumble out. 

“Just Bruce, it is very good to meet you, Jason has told us lots about you.” 

You meet Richard, or Dick as he insisted, and Alfred, the butler. They were all so welcoming, much more than your own family. Thinking about that makes you dread having to bring Jason over to meet your parents. You know they’ll eventually find out. Pushing that thought away you focus on the tiramisu in front of you. This is some of the best food you’ve had in so long, it’s been ages since you last had a home cooked meal.

The meal finishes up and Jason brings you up to his room to hang out for a little bit before you eventually have to return home. There, you continue your tradition of passing notes to each other. While he folds up one of his you see the same nervousness on his face that was there weeks ago when he asked if he could be your boyfriend. 

You open it up and read: 

i love you :)

You look up at him with a big smile on your face, “I love you too.” 

--- 

That was three years ago. Just three months after you got that note from Jason you saw Bruce Wayne walking into the library, straight towards you. He invited you to the manor that night and told you the news. Jason was dead. Those notes were all you had left of him. 

Today is your 18th birthday. You had the appointment made two months ago. Since that night, you, crying in Bruce Wayne’s manor, on his shoulder while Dick Grayson rubbed your back, you knew there would be no one else in this world for you. Jason was the only person that seemed to breathe life into you. 

You were getting the last note he left you tattooed on the inside of your wrist, so you could look down at it every time you missed him. Even though you were only 14, it was the only love you had ever known and you still cry almost every day over it. 

It didn’t hurt like you thought it did, though you didn’t expect it to. He had small handwriting and it only took the artist 15 minutes to complete it. 

--- 

You started college, studying English in hopes to maybe become a teacher, or a professor if you find yourself having the time or money.

There’s a new vigilante in Gotham. It's no crazy news, there seems to be a new one nearly every year. You’re not complaining, Gotham needs it with the amount of crime you see every single day here. Though this one seems different. Normally all the vigilantes in Gotham seem to be working with Batman, though this one seems to have absolutely no interest in him. 

You haven’t had a run in with him yet but most people have said he is nothing like any other vigilantes. He doesn’t care about Batman’s rules. 

You’re walking back to your apartment after your night class. It is the only one that could fit in your crammed schedule, you didn’t want to walk home in the dark three nights a week but you really had no other choice. And of course you just had to live in crime alley. It is the only area you can afford. Being in university doesn’t leave you with a whole lot of spending money. 

Usually you can avoid any creeps on your way back home but this night the guy doesn’t seem to let up and even tried to grab at your bag. You swing around, yelling at him, “Get away you creep!” He doesn’t seem to like that though and reaches for you again, even trying to swing at you. You bring your arms out to guard your face but no contact is made. 

You bring your arms down and open your eyes to see a mysterious tall figure in a red helmet beating up the guy. Must be the new vigilante, you think. You back up a little more, watching the scene in front of you. When the masked figure seems to be done he turns around and looks at you, really looks at you, making you feel slightly uncomfortable. 

“Thanks,” you mutter out before turning around and walking the rest of the way to your apartment. 

---

He couldn’t believe it, you were still in Gotham and living in crime alley no less. He thought you would’ve left this stupid town by now but you were always so stubborn. He couldn’t help himself, the next few weeks he found himself watching your apartment from a rooftop, watching as you left every morning and came home every night to be sure you were safe. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you. 

He knew that you thought he was dead, there was no reason for you to think any differently. He didn’t expect to see you and he didn’t expect to be lost in your eyes all over again like he was five years ago. He never forgot about you, you were his first love, his only love. He wanted to talk to you again but he didn’t know how, he’s supposed to be dead and that’s exactly what he thought. How would he explain himself to you? I died, got thrown into a massive glowing green pit and then trained with assassins and now I’m here, back in Gotham. Surprise!

No, you would think he lost his mind, probably calling the police thinking he was having an identity crisis and pretending to be your dead boyfriend from five years ago. Technically he still is your boyfriend, you never broke up with him so…

--- 

He decided to knock on your door, as Jason. Either he would scare you or you would let him in. It didn’t hurt to try. 

You were sitting on your floor, leaning against your couch, working on your essay for one of your classes. You’ve been rewriting the same paragraph over and over again, never seeming to get it right. You heard a knock on your door, it was odd, you never made any friends in your classes and you’ve never talked to your neighbors. You walk over and look into the peephole, seeing a tall man in a leather jacket and jeans. He had black hair with a white streak in the front. His head was down so you couldn’t see his face. You looked back over him one more time, seeing no weapons on him, you cracked  the door open slightly, your hand leaned against the door frame, wrist pointing out into the hallway. 

“Hello?” you question. 

He finally brings his head up and you get a good look at his face. You pause, breath catching as you make out the features. He looks exactly like Jason did, though older and with more scars and that white streak in his hair. No, it’s not him, he’s dead. You remind yourself. You find your breath again, “Sorry, you just… look like someone I used to know.” 

His eyes don't look at you though. You follow his gaze to your wrist, the one with the tattoo. His mouth opens slightly and you see some tears welling up in his eyes. You bring your hand down, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. He finally looks at you, tears falling down his cheeks as he whispers your name. 

You’re confused, not sure who this man is but he looks too much like Jason for you to handle right now. “Sorry, you must have the wrong person,” you say before gently shutting the door, turning around, and leaning against it before you fall to the ground, crying over the same boy that you have been for five years.

[starr-jazz]

hi reader and jason who were dating before he died and he’s written “i love you :)” somewhere so you got it tattooed and jason cries after seeing it for the first time after he came back k bye

[vastlycruelterror]

Chapter Four

Summary: Another night of patrol...

Warnings: violence, mentions of drug deals, death, panic attacks, tears, scar mentions

Note: Yayyy chapter four is finally here!!! Thank you for your patience, I hope you guys enjoy and as always suggestions and feedback are always welcome and appreciated. Thank you so much for the support <33

Word Count: 2659

Series Masterlist

You roll over onto your side, curling up with the penguin stuffed animal while you look at Fred, “I really liked hanging out with him today, I never thought I could fall for someone this hard, let alone him.” You close your eyes, finally letting it sink in. After a few minutes of laying there, letting everything finally register in your mind, you finally get up and decide to get un-ready so you can lay in bed and be lazy for the rest of the day before you have to leave for patrol. 

You head to the bathroom, turn the shower on as hot as it’ll go and start taking off your make-up while you wait for it to heat up. You undress away from the view of the mirror, a habit that you are still unable to break, you can’t stand seeing the scars still covering your body. After you’ve stuck your hand in the shower to test the temperature you step in and begin the long routine of your everything shower. Exfoliating, shaving, washing your hair, and when you get out you apply moisturizer everywhere before you slip into comfy pajamas. Yes it’s still technically the afternoon but you don’t care, you're just going to stay in bed all day anyways. 

You find the remote to your TV under a pile of blankets and pillows and turn on Criminal Minds, you’re still on your fifth rewatch of the series, it oddly provides a weird comfort to you. You curl up in your bed under the huge mountains of fluffy blankets and curl up with Fred, giving him short pets here and there. 

—

You wake up to a much darker room than you remember. You realize you probably fell asleep if the TV is any hint. You check the time and realize Alfred will probably have dinner for you and whoever else is in the manor today pretty soon and that you’ll start your patrol shift not long after that. Rolling out of bed and causing Fred to give you an annoyed meow you decide to finally change out of pajamas and into a more casual outfit. 

You head downstairs towards the dining room and see Damian and Jason standing by the counter having one of their normal playful arguments. Tim is probably down in the cave and your dad is who knows where. You time coming down perfectly as Alfred is just bringing out some of the final dishes for dinner, “Hello Miss, dinner is just about ready, I will get everyone’s drinks soon,” everyone seems to have a sixth sense for food as everyone piles in at the table as soon as Alfred says this. 

You slide out your chair, your normal spot next to Jason, and start to scoop food onto your plate. Recently you’ve been more silent during family dinners, you feel like you’re still trying to find your place here again. You still feel like everyone is just avoiding the subject of you entirely, you get it, it’s a sore subject for everyone but you’ve felt more like an object for everyone to talk about. You’ve mentioned it to Dick on some of your patrol nights and he said he could bring it up to the rest of the family, but you doubt he did as nothing has changed with them. You just want them to understand that you’re normal, you’re still the same girl as before except now you have a few more scars and some nightmares here and there. 

As you’re thinking of this you realize you never reapplied the makeup on your face, shit. You pause, dropping your fork on your plate before you scoot back and run up to your room. You dig around your vanity to find all of your products and rush to apply them all so you can return back to dinner like everything is normal. You know that you don’t have to wear it around them but you can see in their eyes how off putting the scars are to them, it is so obvious how much they avoid looking at the lower half of your face.

You return back to your spot at the table and begin eating again like nothing happened at all. Thankfully, your family seems to realize that you don’t want to address what happened as no one questions your abrupt departure. Dinner goes on as normal, you saying a few sentences during the whole dinner and trying to stay silent as much as possible. Once plates are clear and drinks are finished you head down to the cave to do your pre-patrol routine. Fixing up some tech and gadgets, stretching, and then changing into the Nightingale costume. Tonight you’re patrolling with Jason. Even though these nights are the most silent ones they are your favorite. He doesn’t treat you any differently than he did before, he doesn’t act like you’re fragile, the only difference is that there is more silence between the two of you. 

You both hop on your bikes and head to the outskirts of Gotham, you always start on the outside and work your way in. You park your bikes near the docks and walk around, seeing if you can spot anything suspicious. You and Jason have gotten the routine down by now and barely have to say any words to each other. As you’re walking around you see a group of some goons, you recognize them from a few nights ago, just a normal Gotham drug ring. You decide to eavesdrop on them before you head in, wanting to see if you can get any information about their bosses, or their boss’s boss. 

“-got a shipment coming for us, one of the biggest we’ve had, we’ll need to increase the sales, get more men.”

“How are we supposed to get any more men? Everyone quits after they have a run in with Red Hood for the first time.” You smile at yourself, proud of your older brother. 

“I don’t care how you get more men, force them, blackmail them, I don’t care, just do it.”

You watch him walk away leaving his three men behind, he seems to be the one in charge in this small group. Definitely still not high on the drug dealing ladder though. Deciding you’ve heard enough, and not wanting any of them to get away, you walk on up to them and take your staff to hit them each in the back of the head, fast enough that none of them can react to move out of the way. You watch their leader start to run away from you, oh my god he’s fast, you think. You quickly reach up to your ear to turn on your comms to let Jason know what’s happening, “Took down some dealers, following their leader now.”

“Got it. Let me know if you need backup.”

You start to run after their leader, realizing he’s gotten pretty far ahead from you. You run faster, desperate to catch up. You feel like you’ve been running for ages when you see him go into a sewer tunnel. You curse under your breath, knowing you’re going to have to take a long shower after this to get the smell of shit and toxic waste out of your hair and body. Then you swear again when you realize Alfred will make you handwash your suit yourself to get the smell out of that too. 

You run into the sewer after him and the first thing you realize is that it is pitch black, reaching up, you turn on the night vision in your domino and also turn on your comms, “Followed him into a sewer.”

“Copy. I’ll head that way in case you need anything.”

You walk down farther while listening hard to see if you can find any signs of him. After about five minutes of walking and scanning every single inch of the tunnel with your eyes you still don’t see a trace of him. You reach up to your comms, to let Jason know that he got away, but you realize that you don’t seem to have any single down there. Either that or there’s some sort of blocker in the sewers. 

Some sort of blocker in the sewers… 

Your comms always work, they always have the best signal, you made them yourself, made them in a way that they can be used to communicate with everyone everywhere. 

That’s when the panic sets in. You look around everywhere, trying to find a way out. But now, you’re so turned around you don’t even remember which way you came from. Your panic stops you from noticing the smell. The smell that is so familiar to you from all those months ago. A smell you don’t think you’ll ever forget. 

Fear gas. 

“Jason! Jason, where are you! I need help! Please!” you scream, not caring about using his vigilante name. You feel the fear gas starting to really settle in your mind now, and all of a sudden you’re back there, in that old abandoned warehouse, in the chair. 

You hear him coming from behind you, the sound of his laugh is one you will never forget, it doesn’t matter how many years pass, that laugh has been engraved into your memory. 

“You thought you could get away, little moon. Don’t worry, I will always find my way back to you,” you hear him, he’s even closer now. 

“No, no, no. Jason! Where are you?” you panic, flailing around when you realize: there’s no rope tying you to the chair this time. Through your panic you somehow manage to stand up from the chair, turning around as you quickly back up, scanning the room for anything that you can use as a weapon. 

You see nothing, except for a crow bar on the opposite side of the room. “Oh no little moon, you forgot where you’re supposed to stay,” he looks oddly sad, having a little pout on his face. It disgusts you. You try to slowly circle around to get yourself to the opposite side of the room to reach the crow bar. 

“I guess you forgot how this works since you’ve been away for so long. I really did miss our time together little moon. Now, you can just sit back down and we can go back to our fun,” as he’s distracted by his theatrics, you finally make it to the opposite side of the room and reach down to grab the crow bar. Standing back up you hold it in front of you, ready to swing. 

“Slow down little moon, we’re just starting. You wouldn’t want to end this so soon would you?”

The rage overtakes the fear. You run at him swinging, but he easily dodges it. You mentally curse at yourself for being so obvious in your attack. Though what he can’t dodge is speed. You keep going at him, swinging nonstop until a hit finally lands. You hear the loud crack, you hit his shoulder. He reaches up to grab it, probably feeling the pain. 

Though you don’t stop, you keep attacking him while he’s down. You hit his legs, his torso, then his face. You stand over him, you keep smashing his face in with the crowbar, screaming and crying due to the mix of fear and rage circling through your body. His blood splashes back at you with each hit but you don’t stop. Your body is tired from the exertion but you continue to use the crow bar to hit him in the face over and over again. 

You bring it back up again but as you start to bring it back down you feel resistance, like someone is grabbing the crow bar, stopping you. 

“Little wing stop, he’s dead. It’s over, you can stop now.” Jason? Only your older siblings call you little wing and you’re pretty sure Dick was in Blüdhaven for the week. 

You stop. The crow bar falling out of your hand as you take in your surroundings. You’re still in the sewer, standing over who you can assume is the Joker due to the purple suit. Though you can’t see his face anymore, his head is just a pile of mush. The exhausting finally catches up to you and you fall back, right into who you think is Jason. 

“Jay? I… I didn’t mean..”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you.” You fall down into his arms as he holds you while you continue to sob uncontrollably while trying to explain yourself. 

You don’t know how long you stay there with Jason but you hear someone else behind you. You feel another wave of panic set in, though Jason seems to sense it as he says, “It’s okay, it’s just Bruce, we’re going to bring you home so you can rest.” You finally look into his eyes and you think that he knows everything you’re thinking, “It’s okay, I promise, no one is mad at you, you couldn’t control it.” He stands you up, still holding you in his arms. You finally look at your dad for the first time, barely able to make out anything through your tear filled eyes, other than the fact that he is looking at you, searching your face and body for anything that needs immediate attention. 

You don’t remember anything from the walk back. You just know that you somehow got to the batmobile, where you are currently laying across the back seats, head in Jason's lap after you refused to let him leave your side. You’re unable to close your eyes, every time you do you find yourself back there, it’s either the Joker standing over you or you standing over him. There’s still tears falling out of your eyes, though they are not as violent as they were in the sewers, when you finally reach the cave and Jason helps you climb out. Before you get too far your dad comes up to you. He looks at you, “I’m glad you’re okay, I need you to go get some rest now.” Jason helps you walk further, towards the changing rooms where you quickly strip out of your suit while he faces the other wall, staying silent. Once you’re in the pajamas that you leave in the changing room you walk over to him. He looks at you, searching your eyes for any sign of a panic attack coming or more tears. He lets you lean against him as he helps you walk back to your room and helps you lay down in your bed. “Get some rest little bird, I’m serious,” though before he can walk away from you you grab his wrist, making him turn around. 

“Please, stay with me. I can’t be alone right now,” you say through quiet tears. You remember when he first moved into the manor, he was a happy, energetic kid and quickly became your favorite person to hang out with. You often fell asleep together after long days of running around playing tag through the manor. And when you both got older, after he came back from the league, you both found comfort in each other. You broke into his safehouses when you had fights with your dad and didn’t want to have to explain them to Dick. He always took you in, letting you stay as long as you wanted, no questions asked. 

He looks at you again, “Okay, yeah little bird, I got you. Just go to sleep,” he says as he pulls the covers back to slide in next to you. You lay your head on his arm, not wanting to close your eyes just yet due to the fear of waking up and finding yourself right back there again, either in the abandoned warehouse or the sewer. Eventually the exhaustion overtakes the fear, pulling you under into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve had in months.

Taglist:

@sainz0fthetimes @lilylilylilylilysstuff  @emoidtee

[vastlycruelterror]

Chapter Three

Summary: Wally enters the picture

Warnings: PTSD, mentions of panic attacks, scars, fluff

Note: Yay!! Chapter three is here!! Thank you for being patient, it will probably take me longer to write the next chapters, I'll still be pretty busy for about the next 2 weeks and I really want to take my time on the next chapters. I will not be abandoning this series so no one has to worry even if it takes a week in between chapters I promise to you guys it will be finished!!! I hope you guys all enjoy and thank you for the support on the series so far!!

Word Count: 4039

Series Masterlist

For the past 3 months you’ve been attending therapy almost every single day. It started with a specialist coming to the manor to see you, as you did not want to step outside at all. 

You started using the make-up that Jason bought for you. The scars are still raised and a bright red color but you’ve noticed some improvements with them. Jason even provided you with some good creams to use on them. Dick handed them to you and relayed the message: “He said these were really good ones, he used them when, you know…”

The make-up helps, you can’t see the scars from far away but if you know that they are there and you’re looking close enough, you can see the faint outlines of them and how much more they raise off of your skin. 

Now, for the past week, you’ve been leaving the house to go see your therapist, Dr. Barker, who specialized in PTSD, and who your dad has thoroughly background checked and trusts with his whole life - not just anyone can hear about some of the things you’ve been telling Dr. Barker. 

Other than therapy, your whole life now takes place in the walls of the manor. Jason has started sitting in rooms with you, the first time it happened you were shocked, especially after you overheard his conversation with Dick. You were sitting in a library, reading a book, when he came in and sat in a chair across the room. After that, every time he came in to read with you he moved closer and closer to your spot until one day he was able to sit right next to you. 

You still have yet to have a conversation with him. 

Recently, Dick has been hovering a lot more than usual. You understand - he’s probably worried about you but he’s been spending an ungodly amount of time at the manor recently. Which means his annoying friends have also been stopping by a lot more frequently, most notably, Wally. 

And, of course, Wally, being the most annoying friend your brother has ever had, is always in your business, way too much. Your quietness never seems to stop him. You never leave your room without the layers of make-up covering your scars and barely talk to anyone, choosing to silently suffer, as bothering your family with your load of trauma is the last thing on Earth you would ever want to do. 

Wally has particularly seemed to find a liking in talking to you, even though it really is more like he is talking at you. You never respond, he just keeps going on with whatever story he’s trying to tell you until you decide to walk out of the room to find somewhere else to silently think about your life. 

He never seems to take the hint, even after that one time you specifically told him to leave you alone:

“-and then I was just running around in circles around this guy, like he genuinely had absolutely no idea what was going on.”

“Seriously Wally, leave me alone.”

You’ve gotten into the habit of just turning around every time you see fiery red hair. And the cute freckles. And the green eyes. And the… No, stop it, he’s your brother's annoying friend. 

No matter how hard your mind spiraled back to that dark warehouse the thought of Wally always seemed to bring you back to the present. You would wake up from your nap due to a nightmare and hear Wally’s loud annoying voice from down the hall talking about another stupid story that you really could not care less about, and find yourself calm and back in the moment. 

You hated this. 

—

Another month passes. You focus on healing, you get better at taking care of your scars, they are less red but are still raised quite a bit. You’re still applying the make-up everyday, not being able to handle your family possibly seeing them, you feel you’ve already traumatized them enough, you wouldn’t want to add anymore. 

Wally still seems to be a constant annoying presence. You started giving him short one word responses now and every time you say something, even if it's a “be quiet,” he seems ecstatic. 

The nightmares are still there though, you wake up multiple nights a week screaming for it all to stop. You get episodes in the middle of the day. Anything can set these off, whether it’s a smell or a sound. Someone is always there to catch you though, Dick, Tim, your dad, and now, Wally. 

You don’t know how much he knows, you’re not sure if Dick told him anything. But he never seems to question anything, he just sits there until your breathing has calmed and you stop trying to fight back at him. These are the only times when he seems to stop talking, the only time he seems to ever slow down. And he does all of this without asking any questions, without prying into any of your personal business. 

As your healing continues though you start to miss the thrill of the night-time patrols, the training, the engineering, everything. You want to go back, put the Nightingale suit back on, but you know what your dad and your entire family will say. 

“You’re not ready.” “You’re still healing.” “It’s too soon, you still need a break.”

But if anything your mind and body yearn for it. It is the only time when you feel you have total control and can be whoever you want. It brings you an adrenaline rush. You like the feeling of saving people. I also need to feed into my ego, can’t let the family forget that I was the best vigilante for a reason. 

You understand your family’s feelings, if any of your siblings were in this position you would be all for them taking a break, but you have an insatiable need to return. 

You decide to talk to your dad that night. It wouldn’t be a request, you were going to demand to be able to put the Nightingale suit back on. You would be willing to compromise, take the early shifts everyday, only go out a few nights a week, not going out alone, and all of those rules your dad would probably make up. 

After a calm dinner with just you, your dad, Tim and Damian, you decided to follow your dad a few minutes after he went up to his study. You knock on the door until you hear a quiet “Come in.” 

You push the door open and then close it behind you to ensure that no nosey siblings decide they want to eavesdrop on your conversation. 

“Hey dad, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Okay, sit down,” he says while pointing to the chair across from him and packing up some of the paperwork he’s been working on. You pull out the chair and slowly sit down, still unsure about where you want to start with this conversation. 

“I’ve been thinking,” you take a deep breath and decide to just spit it out, “I want to go back on patrol, I think I’m ready again.”

He pauses, this is the first time you think you’ve ever seen him shocked and unable to process anything. “I don’t think that’s a good idea yet. It’s only been a few months, you still need time,” he says slowly, as if calculating every word. It’s like he’s scared one word can trigger another episode for you. 

“I want to put the suit on again dad, I’m serious. I want things to go back to normal,” you say this while making eye contact with him, showing him that you are completely serious. He wipes a hand on his face, sighing. 

“I know you do. If this is what you really want I think we can figure something out. A different schedule, a different route, something like that. I’m not letting you be out there like you were before,” he sounds more like he is a hostage negotiator rather than having a conversation with his daughter. But, you do agree with his deals. You would do anything you can to be able to go back to the way your life was before everything happened, this is just one small step in that direction. 

“Okay” 

— 

That night you hear a knock on your door. “Come in,” you say, calling out to whoever it is. But the person that walks through your door is who you least expect: Jason. He can definitely see the shock on your face because he shyly looks down. While he does this you finally see what he’s holding in his hands. A small animal carrier and behind him you see a box of supplies: food, toys, a litter box, and a mix of a lot of other things that you think would be used to take care of a cat. 

“I got you a kitten. I read somewhere that they help with trauma or something,” he mumbles out while setting the carrier down on the floor and opens its door. Out walks the smallest white and gray kitten you have ever seen. Its steps are hesitant and slow as it explores the area around it. 

“It’s a boy, doesn’t have a name yet,” he never looks at you while he talks. He stands there for another minute, you don’t know what to say, this is the first time Jason has talked to you. You are stuck between shock and gratefulness. Before you can utter a thank you he quickly walks out the room, pushes the box of supplies in, and then leaves. 

—

Two days later you are in the cave preparing for your first evening back out on patrol. Your dad gave you multiple conditions: you can’t go out alone, you have to take the early shift, you have to switch your route everyday, and avoid violence at all cost. Tonight, you were patrolling with Dick, which, unfortunately, means you are also patrolling with Wally. 

You’re enjoying the last few moments of silence that you will have for the next six hours. You are also mentally preparing. You really do believe that you are ready to go back out there as Nightingale but as you get closer and closer to putting the suit back on, fear and hesitation starts to build up. You stand there for a few moments, just staring at the suit that hasn’t been worn in months

“Hey, you don’t have to go if you’re not ready,” you flinch, not hearing Dick sneak up from behind you. 

“I’m fine Dick,” you rip the suit off of the hook and bring it to the changing room. There, you stand in front of the mirror, staring at yourself. Bending over the sink you hyperventilate a little bit and have to close your eyes, whiling off your mind from sending you into another episode. 

After about ten minutes you finally find the courage to open your eyes again to see that you are still there, in the changing room. You grab your suit and walk a little farther away from the mirror before you put it on so that you don’t see any of the lingering scars on your body. You quickly strip down, put your suit on, and then you splash some cold water on your face to hopefully get rid of any signs that you were on the verge of a panic attack. 

When you walk out you see both Dick and Wally in their suits preparing everything for patrol. You grab your belt and strap everything that you think you could need onto it without acknowledging the two people in the cave with you. You finally look up at them, “Ready to go?”

Dick looks at you for a second, searching your eyes for any sign that you're not ready. Either finding none or wanting to avoid an argument he finally lets out a sigh, “Lead the way.”

You see Wally looking at you as you get on your bike and you think you see a slight hint of concern on his face. Trying to ignore it, not wanting the pity, you start up your bike and give it a little rev before you start to speed off. The other two follow behind on their own. You and Dick previously discussed the route that you were going to take for tonight. Jason was going to patrol downtown Gotham with Tim for the night so you, Dick, and Wally would focus on the outskirts where, hopefully, there would be less confrontations for your first night back out in over a year. 

You find a quiet place to park the bikes before you head up to a discreet rooftop that gives you a good view of the area for your stakeout. The patrol goes on without anything exciting. You did exactly what your dad wanted, you avoided violence at all cost, though it is not very hard to avoid it when there was none. You helped some stray animals, helped a little girl get her cat out of a tree, and helped a restaurant get their electricity back after their generator broke down. 

Your patrol continues like this for 2 weeks. Each time it gets easier and easier for you to put on the suit every night. Some nights you get full on panic attacks and some nights you don’t even think about the events that happened to you all those months ago. Some nights you go out with Dick and Wally, sometimes it’s with Tim or Damian, and you’ve even gone with Jason for about three nights. The first night not a word was spoken between you but you could see the increased attention to your every move that night. The other two nights you managed to hold some quick conversations; it’s good progress. 

The nights that Wally sneaks into your patrol rotation have somehow become your favorites. Never thought I would say that. But for some reason you found his annoying, talkative presence comforting. He finds a way to distract you from all of your scary thoughts and whenever you find yourself spiraling his voice brings you back to the present. 

One night on patrol, you and him were sitting on a roof top watching as Dick helps an old woman bring her groceries back up to her apartment. “Soooo, you have any plans for the weekend?” you hear Wally say from next to you. 

“I was probably going to stay in bed all day and watch Netflix,” you respond back, unbothered and trying to keep eyes on Dick, you never know when someone can sneak up behind him. 

“Would you maybe want to, like, get some brunch before you do that?” He sounds almost nervous, a tone you’ve never heard from Wally. 

“Where?”

“There’s this place in the diamond district that has some really good food. And bottomless mimosas,” as he says this you turn around and really look at him. You see him rubbing the back of his neck nervously while avoiding eye contact at all cost. You really look at him, seeing that he is dead serious and this isn’t one of his jokes. 

“Yeah, sure, I’d like that.”

A big smile breaks out on his face, “Okay, yeah, oh my gosh, I’ll pick you up at 11? On Saturday? If that works? I don’t know, I don’t know when you wake up or do anything-”

“Yes, Wally, that works great,” you cut him off, to end his rambling just before Dick grapples back up onto the roof, finished with the old woman’s groceries. 

“Wow, a grandma can eat a lot. Let’s do one more loop before we head back.”

—

Saturday morning comes. You decided to wake up a lot earlier than you normally do. For some reason you find yourself excited, maybe you can actually give Wally a chance to be something more than your brother’s annoying best friend. For the past few weeks you’ve found yourself enjoying the loud presence of Wally and even look forward to the nights you go on patrol with Dick because there’s a chance Wally could be with him. 

Your little kitten has been sleeping beside you every night. You decided to name him Fred. Since Jason dropped him off that one night he has really grown into his personality by knocking things over and then coming to curl up in your lap to make up for it. You enjoy his company, especially when you wake up from a nightmare. He is always there to curl up with, he never leaves you. You give him a quick little hug and a kiss before you finally roll out of bed and get on with your day. 

You still have about two and a half hours before Wally said he’ll be here so you spend that time finding the perfect outfit, a flowy floral dress, and covering your scars with a heavy layer of makeup. You don’t want to scare him away from you. 

When you finally reach the finishing touches with your hair and makeup you hear Alfred at your door, “Miss, you have a guest in the foyer that would like to see you.”

“Tell him I’ll be down in a second.”

You look at yourself one last time in the mirror being sure everything looks perfect and that you can’t see the scars under the make up. When you walk down the stairs you see Wally standing in the foyer practically vibrating from what you think are nerves. In his hands you see a bouquet of wild flowers, your favorite, though you wonder how he knew that, and something else that you can’t quite make out. 

“I couldn’t find any flowers so I panicked and got you a penguin stuffed animal and then when I was walking out I saw these so I just picked them up and I hope you like them and I’m not sure if you-”

“They’re perfect Wally, thank you,” you say, cutting off his rambling. You grab the bouquet out of his hands and hand them to Alfred so he can put them in a vase for you. Then, you reach for the penguin, they were never really your favorite animal but you didn’t hate them so you set it on a bench in the foyer so you can bring it up to your room when you get back. 

“Okay, great, are you ready to go? I brought my car, I didn’t know how you would feel about me running you there.”

“Yeah, I’m ready, let’s go,” he holds out his hand and guides you outside to his car. He opens your door for you and guides you in before he closes it again. You watch as he speeds over to his side of the car and gets in. 

The drive is a comfortable quiet, he asks you some questions here and there but it seems both of you are waiting for a majority of your conversation to happen over brunch. He pulls up to a nice looking cafe with lots of plants on the outside and a nice area for outdoor seating. Before you can reach for your door handle you feel a rush of wind before Wally is in front of you, opening your door for you. He reaches out his hand for you to grab as you step out of the car and then he closes it behind you. You keep a hold of his hand as he walks you up to the hostess stand. You greet the hostess with a smile while Wally says, “Hi, I have a reservation for two, it should be under West.” 

“Yes, right this way,” you both follow her as she leads you to a secluded table on the outside patio. The table is tucked away in a quiet corner and has big trees and plants around it. You both sit down across from each other and you immediately grab a menu to look it over. 

“Have you been here before?” you ask Wally while keeping your eyes on the menu. 

“Yeah, a few times, my favorite thing is the mac and cheese. I tried lots of places trying to find the perfect one to take you to,” you look up at him and think you see a little bit of red  on his cheeks.

“I think I’ll have to try that again. You also said they have bottomless mimosas?” 

He lets out a little chuckle, “Yeah, they do, they’re really good, be careful though, they’re a little strong.” “Nothing I can’t handle,” you let out a little laugh of your own. This is the first time that you felt like you could breathe a little easier. It’s calm here, Wally is just treating you like a normal person, not like someone who was stuck in an abandoned warehouse with The Joker for a year or like a Wayne. 

A waitress comes over to take your orders. You and Wally both order the mac and cheese and you order mimosas while he just orders a water. While waiting for your food Wally decides he wants to do a Q&A on you, asking all kinds of simple questions, but to him they seem like a big deal. He looks like he is fully cementing each of your answers into his memory. 

What’s your favorite color? Purple. What’s your favorite food? Soft pretzels. Favorite dessert? Brownies and ice cream. Animal? Giraffe.

“What’s your coffee order?” “Oh my gosh Wally, you’ll have to take me on a coffee date to figure that one out,” you say this jokingly, but he thinks your dead serious. 

“We could do that next weekend? If your free?”

“We haven’t even finished this one yet Wally, slow down,” you say this while laughing and taking another sip of your mimosa. “But probably,” you see the way his eyes light up when you say this. 

Your food eventually comes out and Wally asks you a few more questions while you’re eating. You share stories and other things that he wants to know about your life. What you appreciate most though is the fact that he doesn’t bring up your vigilante life, your family, or the fact that you were missing for almost a year and came back ignoring almost everyone. It’s like he sees you as just a normal woman who doesn’t carry the burden of extreme emotional damage. But you think that’s almost worse because at some point you’re going to have to break his heart with all of that information. 

The date finishes up, you actually enjoyed your time and you were able to focus solely on the date, not the other dark thoughts that always linger in your mind. He walks you back to the car, doing the same routine of opening and closing your door for you. The car ride back is a mix of comfortable silence and him asking you some more questions. When he pulls into the manor’s driveway he looks over at you, “Sooo, can I take you out for coffee next weekend then?”

“Sure Wally, I would love that,” you say with a light smile on your face, really meaning it. 

“Okay, I’ll be here Saturday, same time,” he gets out of the car and runs around to open your door again, helping you out. He walks you up to the door and you turn towards him before you open it. 

“Thank you Wally, I really liked spending time with you.” “Thank you for coming with me, really, I already can’t wait for next Saturday,” you let out a light laugh as he says this and softly pat his chest. 

“See you Saturday,” you quickly reach up and give him a small peck on his cheek before you open the door and step inside the manor. You grab the penguin stuffed animal he gave you that you left on the bench in the foyer before you walk up the stairs to your room and flop on your bed, a big grin spreading across your face. 

“Guess what Fred, I think I might be in love with someone.”

Taglist:

@sainz0fthetimes @lilylilylilylilysstuff  @emoidtee

[vastlycruelterror]

Updates!

Hello!!! I want to thank all of you guys for the love and support for my series, I appreciate it so so much!!

I also want to warn that it might be a few before chapter 3 is up, I will be busy for the next couple of days so my time to write will be very limited :( and I also do not want to rush it. But!!!! to make up for it, it'll be a pretty long chapter and I have lots planned for it so stay tuned!!

I also might end up staying up all night one day and write it all, just wanted to let you guys know so you don't think I just abandoned the series!!

[vastlycruelterror]

Chapter Two

Summary: you have a rough few months

Warnings: lots of violence, torture, mind manipulation, mental breakdowns, hallucinations, sadness, broken glass

Note: Chapter 2!!! I hope you guys like it, sorry for a little bit of a sad and dark chapter. Wally should be making an appearance soon so be on the lookout! Again this is the first story I've ever written sooooooo yeah!! I am also starting a tag list so just comment on any of my post or message me if you want to be added and I hope you enjoy!!!

Word Count: 2264

Series Masterlist

It’s been months, you think. Maybe even a year. You’ve lost track and all hope that maybe someone would be looking for you, worrying about you, wanting to get you out of here. 

These last months have been the longest of your life. He started by removing all hope that someone might come and save you. You spent weeks constantly exposed to fear gas showing you visions of one of your family members coming to save you. 

The first time it was Dick. 

He came running in, held you, even took you out of the ropes all for the the Joker to shoot him there on the spot. 

That happened more than you can count. 

Next it was Tim. But instead of him helping you get out he made it worse. He hurt you, he helped him hurt you, he made it worse. Then sometimes he acted like he was going to help and then he would turn his back on you. 

Next was Bruce. He would appear, then tell you this was where you belonged. He wouldn’t help you. You can’t even remember how many days you had to sit there and listen to him tell you how much of a disappointment you were to the family and then just get up and walk away while leaving you there to rot. 

You were grateful you were never shown anything with Damian but what he did with Jason was worse then anything you could imagine 

You had to sit and watch while the Joker did the same to him as he did to you. You watched him hurt, you watched him have hope that someone was coming to help only for it to get crushed right infront of his eyes. 

You would rather experience anything else but have to ever see some of the things the Joker did to him. 

Every time you saw someone who you thought would save you the hope would immediately leave your body. 

You’ve forgotten what hope even feels like, you’ve accepted this new reality as your life. 

The next months were silence. You saw absolutely nothing but darkness. Every once in a while a glass of water or a plate of food would appear infront of you when you woke up but other then that there was nothing. 

No people, no sounds other then your breathing, no lights, no feelings, no one touched you, no one hurt you. 

This was arguably the worse thing that you endured. There were no signs, besides your plate of rotten food and bread, showing that anyone was even here anymore. The world forgot about you in this dark, silent, cold room. 

Now, for months you’ve been enduring nothing but pain. Crowbars, bats, knives, swords, guns, anything that anyone could ever use to hurt another person. 

The first thing he did was make you look like him. He carved a smile into your cheeks, they were deep and kept bleeding for what felt like an eternity. 

He cut your body then poured salt all over you. He made you eat the most disgusting things you could imagine. He cut off your fingernails.  

There nothing left of you but a shell of a woman who was once there. 

You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to find her again, even if you were to find a way out of this. 

— 

“Little moon, I have something new for you today,” was the first thing you heard once you woke up. You never really slept, it was just you passing out from the pain. 

You hear him wheel in a cart, you don’t move to look, you don’t even make a sound, you learned that the hard way. 

When he gets into your line of sight you can finally see what he has. 

A red gasoline canister. A flame torch. 

Your stomach drops. Is this when it finally ends or is this another sick game? Should you be happy? It could all be over soon. 

“Don’t look too excited little moon, we have plenty of time to play around.”

He unscrews the cap and takes a long look at you. He approaches and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before trailing his hand down your face over the bright red and angry scars across your cheek. 

“You look so beautifully broken now. Finally at your highest potential.”

He goes back to the canister and picks it up. He starts at your feet. It's cold, just like the room you’ve been kept in for the past few months. The smell is overwhelming as he starts moving up your body. He pours it on your legs, your torso, your arms, and then finally he pours the rest on top of your head and lets it run down. 

It gets into your cuts, inside your head you are screaming with the pain but you’re too tired to make any move to comfort yourself. 

You hear a crash, you think, off in the distance. 

The Joker doesn’t seem like he heard it, he’s too focused trying to fix his flame torch. 

You heard more movement. 

No, not again. You don’t remember him giving you any fear gas, but when you think back you never remembered until after you woke up. 

Whoever it is, it’s not real, none of its’s real. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a blur of black and blue, approaching closly, he gives you a look and puts a finger against his lips, probably telling you to be quiet. 

“No, no, no, no,” you whisper, closing your eyes and telling yourself it’s not real, no one’s coming for you, don’t get your hopes up. 

You see Dick approach him, sticks quietly raised before he brings them down, hard, right on his head.

You watch as his body drops, slack. Dick immediatly runs to you, crouching infront of you. 

“No, no, get away, you’re not real, go away,” you whimper while closing your eyes and shaking your head. 

He reaches up, grabs your face, “I’m here, I’m getting you out, you’re going home, it’s ok.” “NO! Get away, please, you say that everytime.” Your eyes are still closed with tears coming out. Your body is still shaking in his arms. 

“Please, listen to me, you’re safe. Just let me get these ropes off, we’ll go home, you can sleep as long as you want, we can have some hot chocolate, some dessert, whatever you want.”

“No, no, no, wake up, wake up,” you whisper to yourself while he reaches out to undo all of the knots. 

—

Dick:

I start to undo her knots while she continues to whisper to herself. My heart breaks watching this, knowing that she thinks I’m not real, that it’s all a dream, that I’m not here to actually save her after the 9 months that our family has been stressed, sad, and broken. 

My heart first broke when I saw the scars on her cheeks. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle having to tell her that they will never go away, especially not with how infected they are right now. 

I finally get all the knots done and get a real look at her. She is covered in cuts and bruises every where and from the smell and the set up the Joker had when I walked in, she would have had much more if I got here any later. 

He moved her around so much, we would get a location and then find the building completely abandoned with traces of blood and tools when we arrived. 

This time we were actually able to get here on time. Bruce and Tim are waiting in the car, ready to come in for back up if I needed it.

When I pick her up she immediately starts fighting me and screaming at me. 

“NO! No, put me down, you have to leave!”

I just stay silent, holding her carefully so she doesn’t get hurt anymore. I wish I could reassure her but I have no idea how, I have no idea what she’s been through. 

I bring her out to the Batmobile and slide us into the back seat. 

“Holy shit,” was the first and only thing out of Bruce and Tim’s mouths. 

“Just drive.”

—

You

When you wake up the first thing you notice is that you’re not cold anymore. You’re lying down in a bed you vaguely recognize. 

Instead of comfort, panic sets in. How big of a dose did he give me? Obviously enough that I’m imagining being back home.

As if sensing you’re awake, someone walks in. Your dad. 

“Hey. You’re awake. I brought some breakfast. I can bring you some coffee if you want something other than water and juice.” “No, no, this can’t be happening again. Get away!” You scramble up the bed, bringing your legs up to your chest and bury your head into your knees while covering your ears, not wanting to hear anything he might say to you. You hysterically whisper and cry while rocking back and forth, praying for waking up back in an old abandoned factory or dead. 

“Hey, it’s ok, you’re here now, you’re safe. We’re all here for you when you’re ready. I promise you’re safe, no one is going to hurt you again”

He stays there, sitting on the edge of your bed while you continue your spiral into hysteria until you finally tire yourself out enough to fall asleep. 

—

You think weeks pass, you haven’t left your bed other than to use the bathroom. You’ve had conversations with every family member but Jason. They’ve been reassuring you every single day for hours that what you are seeing is real, that you’re not there in that factory anymore. 

You think you’ve started to believe them. You’ve finally started to talk with them. Tell them everything. 

Then at night you get nightmares. Nightmares that you’re back in there. You’re in two different realities, not sure which one to believe. You're waking up almost every night screaming until someone walks in to hold you until you fall asleep again. 

The last few days haven’t been so bad, you managed to go one night without a nightmare but you think it was because you were too tired to even dream of anything. 

This morning you decided to walk down to the kitchen for the first time in who knows how long. You’re sitting at the counter, eating a sweet pastry you found in the pantry when you hear a conversation between, you think, Dick and Jason. 

“-can’t even look at her Dick, do you know how horrible that makes me?! I can’t comfort her without going back there, I don’t know what to do.”

“I know, Jason. You’re still healing too, you can take space, but I think she really needs you. I mean, you got her that makeup right? I know you were doing a lot of research on it.”

“Yeah, I have it, could you give it to her? For me?”

You walk back up to your room, not wanting to easedrop anymore. Jason hates me? He can’t stand me?

—

Dick gave you a bag filled with makeup a few days ago. It was filled with lots of different shades of concealers and foundations. All of your different shades of concealers and foundations. A winter shade, an early summer shade, a late summer shade, any shade that you could possibly need depending on the time of year or how much sun you’ve gotten. 

You wanted to try it today. From what you can feel and from what you’ve heard the scars are bad. They won’t go away. They’re ugly. 

You haven’t seen them until now. You’re sitting infront of your mirror just staring at a shell of a woman. 

The scars are an angry red raised along half of your cheek on each side. 

You can’t take it anymore. You slam your fist into the mirror, yank it off of the desk and throw it on the ground. 

You’re on the ground, kneeling over yourself, crying while still trying to break the mirror as sharp shards of glass cut into your knees. 

You hear your door open then feel a hand on your shoulder before you feel someone pull you into their chest. 

“It’s ok, it’s all going to be ok, I promise you, I’ll get you help, whatever you need,” you hear your dad whisper while he cradles your head.

“I just want to be normal again, I want it all to go away.”

“I will do everything I can to be sure that happens, but for right now it’s ok to cry and not be ok, we’re all here for you, we want you to come to us, that’s what family is for.” You stay there for a while, cradled against your dad's chest while you cry until your eyes have been dried out and your body is exhausted. He picks you up and lays you on your bed. He leaves for a second before he comes back with some tweezers to get the larger shards of glass out of your knees. He bandages them up, places a kiss on your forehead while brushing your hair off to the side. 

“We’re all ready whenever you need us, take your time.”

“Can you stay, please, I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course, whatever you need,” was the last thing you heard before he pulls a chair up to the side of your bed and you drift off into a rare peaceful sleep.

Taglist:

@sainz0fthetimes @lilylilylilylilysstuff

[vastlycruelterror]

Chapter One

Summary: After a night of partying you have to go on patrol and hope you can make it back home eventually.

Warnings: violence, underage drinking, hangovers, mentions of vomiting and shitting (sorry guys)

Note: First chapter!! This is my first time ever writing anything like this at all so if it's not great sorry guys, I'll grow. It's a little short but later chapters will get longer, I'm just trying to set up the story and give some background here. No Wally yet, he'll appear in one of the next few chapters so stay tuned! I hope you guys enjoy, I want to get into writing more so if anyone has something they want to see you can send me a request and I can probably make it happen! Enjoy!!!!!!

Word Count: 1868

Series Masterlist

It’s 11 pm on a Saturday, the night is still young and just getting started. Walking down the street hand in hand with one of your best friends, Kori, towards your favorite club in the diamond district. You’re about three drinks deep because, obviously, you had to pregame before. Yes, you grew up in a manor with a billionaire dad but drinks are ungodly expensive at the club, who would actually want to spend over ten dollars on a singular vodka shot? 

As you approach the club you recognize your favorite bouncer, the one that lets you skip the line and walk in no questions asked. 

Kori drags you straight to the bar “Two vodka shots please,” she says to the bartender. Turning to you she says “This one's on me, you got the next one!” 

“That’s if I even make it to the next one,” you say rolling your eyes as the shots appear in front of you. You manage to get it down without gagging at the taste, you love the effects of the alcohol, but god does it taste like absolute shit. The first time you ever took a shot it immediately came back up, for months after that you had to take shots over a sink or trash can just in case. 

“Let’s go dance Kori! I love this song!” You grab her hand and head to the dance floor, a Rihanna remix playing. All around you sweaty bodies are moving, drinks are spilling, and people are bumping into you. You don’t care, this feeling is your favorite, letting go, having fun, and forgetting about the responsibilities that come with the Wayne name for just one night. 

“Come on, let's get another drink!” you have to yell at Kori over the music. 

The night goes by, more drinks, more dancing, you even somehow went to a completely different club. But now you’re back home trying to get ready for bed after sneaking through the manor hoping no one would see you getting back drunk and stumbling at 3 am. 

You’re standing in front of your mirror making eye contact with yourself and smiling. I love alcohol. You grab your toothbrush, trying your hardest to stay upright for two minutes while you brush your teeth. 

You spit out the extra toothpaste and chug a glass of water before you go to stumble to bed. Flopping down you start to feel like you’re falling over and over again, the world non-stop spinning. You always forget about this feeling, it’s the worst, especially when you’re so tired. 

Eventually, the fatigue catches up to you and you finally drift off. 

—

The morning comes up on you way too soon, the light coming in through your window, because obviously drunk you never remembers to close your curtains before falling asleep. Trying to turn over away from the light a nauseating feeling in your stomach immediately settles. Please be the hangover shits, you think, shitting is way better than throwing up. You head to the bathroom and immediately realize your hopes were crushed. Throwing up it is then. I really need to hang off the vodka Redbulls…

When you get back to bed you finally check your phone for updates you missed. You see one from your dad, one from Tim, and one from Jason. 

Dad😒: Don’t forget, you have early patrol tonight and need to work with Tim on fixing Dick’s grappling hook. 

You go to read Tim’s, laughing at yourself for how funny the contact name you set for him was. 

Timothy👨‍❤️‍👨🏳️‍🌈: we should probably start working around 3, that way you’ll be ready at 5

Jason’s text however makes you panic, 

Jay: Looks like you had a little too much fun last night, hope the morning is treating you well. 

You quickly rush to check every single social media app and account you have, finally seeing the 15 story posts you made last night on your finsta, finally letting out a breath of relief. You really saw your life flash before your eyes there. You send him a response: You: Never been better, nothing will keep me down

Looking at the time you realize it is already almost noon so you head downstairs to get some food before you spend the next few hours staying in bed, hoping the headache goes away before you have to return to work. 

—

At 3:15 you start to head down to the batcave, being fashionably late is most definitely your super power and if you show up late enough Tim will probably figure everything out himself and then you won’t have to do anything. 

“Finally, took you long enough, 3 means 3.” 

“Nice to see you too Tim” you say while rolling your eyes at him. "At least I’m not the one who tangles themselves in their grappling hook because they’re trying to impress people.” Tim already has the workbench setup with Dick’s grappling hook taken apart. Both of you could very easily fix it all by yourself but your dad is always about team bonding and working together, even though there really is no teamwork on fixing something so stupidly easy. 

“He’s an idiot, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so incompetent with a grappling hook before,” Tim says while taking a sip from his mug of coffee. The mug that you got him for his birthday one year that says “Coffee makes me poop.” You laugh in your head, I really am the funniest person in this entire family. 

You sit and watch Tim as it takes him about 30 minutes to fix the grappling hook. Obviously because you are so helpful, you point out the stuff that Tim needs to do exactly one second before he starts to do it, you have to be sure he knows what he’s doing. 

“Be sure you wind the line!”

“Yes, I know that, you can stop pointing out the obvious.”

You watch him finish up the last steps, it’s almost 4 so you decide to go eat some food and hit some stretches before you head out on patrol. Tonight, you’re patrolling alone since you have the earlier shift and there’s usually less criminal activity going on at 5 pm compared to 1 am. You like the earlier shift, it lets you get back home in time to watch some Love Island before you see any spoilers on TikTok. 

— 

Zipping up your suit, you look around at the gear in front of you, deciding on what you might need for the night. You grab your staff and strap it to your back, grab a grappling hook, your utility belt, and then slide one of Jason’s guns into your belt. Just in case.

Your dad comes down, probably about to work on the computer and to get ready to prepare everyone else before they head out for the night. 

“Be safe, don’t do anything stupid, I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too dad.” He gives you a small side hug, it’s always the same routine with him whenever you’re about to go on a patrol without him. He constantly worries about you and honestly is a little too protective at times. 

You hop on the bike that Jason got you when you first became Nightingale, he helps you keep up with it, it’s how the two of you bond sometimes, you love the days when all you do is work on bikes together, neither of you ever had to talk, the working silence was always comforting to you. 

Driving around Gotham you finally reach your favorite patrol spot, a tall building that has an amazing view of BatBurger. You love to look at the amazing architecture of the building and think of the greasy food that you are going to chow down on after this patrol is over. 

Walking around the building you look around to see if you see anything that could be off. You see a lot of people walking around, probably returning home from work. Using your grappling hook you go from building to building looking around. 

Out of the corner of your eye, down an alley, you see a young woman, probably around 22, surrounded by a group of 4 men. Finally, a show. 

Swinging down, you land right behind them. 

“Hey guys, what seems to be the problem here?” You see the panic set in on the 4 men's faces immediately and see relief fall over the woman’s face, where you see a bruise setting in on her eye. You turn back to the men, “That’s not how you treat a lady.” You immediately go towards the first one, he goes down easy, you knock his head hard enough on the ground so he passes out but not hard enough for it to kill him. You feel two of the men sneaking up behind you while you see another one trying to run away. 

You quickly take out the two behind you by knocking their heads together and then run after the last one while using your grappling hook to catch up to him. You kick his back to knock him down and give him a nice little punch across his face to knock him out. 

You walk back over to the woman and see a small cut on her arm. Reaching into your belt you take out a bandaid, hand it over to her, and say, “Stay safe,” while you turn around, down the alley, heading out. 

While walking out, you check your watch. It's only 7, god I’m so hungry, you think, when you feel your stomach growling. As you walk you think about all the food you’re going to order from BatBurger when you finally finish up this shift. 

As you are distracted, you start to laugh at yourself. You’re laughing at everything. Oh my god I am so funny, why do I think I’m going to eat all 8 different types of burgers. The laughing becomes uncontrollable, you hunch over. 

Okay, something’s definitely wrong, I know I’m funny but this is just excessive. You can’t stop though and only one part of your brain can recognize what’s actually happening. 

Fuck. The Joker. The gas. I need to get out of here. 

But the laughing doesn’t stop until someone comes up behind you and hits you over the head with a hard object, and you fall to the ground unconscious. 

—

Holy shit my head, is your first thought when you wake up. The second is, it smells like absolute dog shit in here. Then you finally take in your surroundings. A dark abandoned factory, you’re in a chair, a rope around your whole body keeping you in place. Trying to move around you realize your legs are tied to the chair and your wrist are tied together. 

Trying to wiggle around you also realize that the chair is deadbolted to the floor. Damn, this guy really thought of everything.  You hear a laugh and then someone saying “You’re not going to be able to go anywhere, little moon, I learned enough from the little birdy a few years ago.”

You go absolutely still. Oh no, no, no, this is not happening.

[vastlycruelterror]

About Batsis!Reader

Note: Just a little bit about the personality that I envision for batsis. She is AFAB, during the story there will be no descriptors on what she looks like (hair color, skin color, eye color, etc.) so you can imagine yourself or who ever you want

Warnings: mention of trafficking/child predators (NOT TOWARDS READER), mentions of murder, mentions of drinking underage

Series Masterlist

During the story she is around 19, Dick is 25, Jason is 20, Tim is 17, and Damian is 12

Her vigilante persona is Nightingale, she lived with Bruce her whole life and started training since she was able to walk

She could beat all of her siblings in a physical fight without any weapons

Her weapon of choice is a singular long staff that straps to her back sort of like Dick's but it has a small little button that when she presses it while pulling it out it becomes a sword

With Jason she tracks down child predators and disrupts their entire rings and murders them

Wishes she could follow Batman's no-kill rule, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him

Bruce has a soft spot for her, all of her siblings tease both her and Bruce for this (he can't help it he is such a girl dad)

Lived with Dick for 6 months when she was 16 to train with him and worked with him in Blüdhaven, this helped her really develop all of her skills

Currently still lives in the manor

Runs Wayne Tech, she is an engineering genius, makes lots of weapons and tech for her family and the rest of the Justice League

She is a party girl, fake ID, will pay bouncers to let her into the club

She likes to drink and go out to parties with her friends, has a secret finsta that only her close friends and Jason follows (he's her favorite)

Loves animals and will always choose any mission having to do with saving them

Very protective over her siblings, even with Dick and Jason

This also goes the other way around, they are all very protective of her

Dick was always there to keep the old creepy rich guys away from her

She is like OG cool girl in Gotham, has a popping social media, THE Gotham influencer

Loves to sneak out of galas and charity events early - she can not stand them but she gets free drinks and food