#Batfam oneshot

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

bluetooth j.t.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint

Word Count: 1.2k words

You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.

There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.

You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.

And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.

But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.

You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.

But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.

Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.

"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."

Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—

"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."

You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.

'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'

"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.

Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."

Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."

You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."

Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."

He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."

You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.

"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.

You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.

Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.

You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.

Wait.

THE CAR?!

You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.

Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.

You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.

Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.

'Incoming call: Julie'

Ah, saved by the bell.

*

"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.

"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"

Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."

"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"

A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."

Forever Taglist:

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DC Taglist:

@emmacata

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[captainsophiestark]

Destroy All Comers

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my Year of Olympians and part of a bigger challenge being run by @yearofcreation2023​! It features a ton of other awesome creators and runs all year, so go check it out!

Fandom: DC

Prompt: Athena; Wisdom and Warfare

Summary: When Y/N's regular co-coach, Dick Grayson, is called away during an important period in the 8th grade girls' basketball season, Jason Todd has to step in and take his place.

Word Count: 3,124

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Jason's POV

"Why do I have to do it?"

"Because you're the only one available to take my place! Besides, you might actually have fun doing it once you give it a try."

I huffed and crossed my arms. Grayson had a mission overseas coming up, and he'd asked me to take his place. Not as Blüdhaven's vigilante, oh no. As the co-coach for a kid's basketball league.

It was dead last on the list of things I cared about or wanted to do. But Grayson had recently helped me out with a problem of my own, and he'd made it very clear he wasn't above calling in that favor.

"C'mon, Jay. It's only two weeks. Ten practices and one tournament, that's all you have to get through."

I sighed heavily through my nose and stared at the ceiling for a few long beats. Then, I dropped my eyes back to Dick, keeping my expression completely unimpressed.

"Fine. But you better not get hurt on this stupid mission, because I'm not covering for you a single second past that tournament."

****************

Y/N's POV

"Alright, great work! Let's take five for water and then get into our layup drills!"

I smiled and clapped a few of the girls on the back as they headed off the court to their bags on the sidelines. Coaching my little niece's basketball team was one of my absolute favorite activities, and I'd been doing it since they were first graders. Now, this was their last year before high school, and we all wanted to go out on a high note. We had a tournament in two weeks that would help set us up nicely for the end of the season if it went well for us.

Every single one of us was absolutely locked in.

Every one of us, of course, except my co-coach.

Dick Grayson, my new best friend since we'd started volunteering together at our family members' school (my niece and his little brother) and I'd managed to rope him into helping me with my niece's basketball team, was my usual co-coach. Unfortunately, he apparently had a big commitment out of town that he couldn't get out of, so he'd be missing the tournament and two weeks leading up to it. I'd been a little upset, and then mostly just teased him for a 'lack of commitment' I knew he didn't actually have before promising to keep him updated on everything. His replacement, however, I was starting to have a real problem with.

Dick told me he'd convinced one of his brothers to fill in for him this week, just so I wouldn't be left wrangling a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year-olds alone. Dick had spoken very highly of him, but he was currently half an hour late to his first practice, and I was starting to get a bad feeling that he'd be more of a hindrance than a help.

Just as the thought floated through my mind, I heard the doors to the gym swing open. I looked up to see a tall, muscle-y guy with a leather jacket stride through the door. Dick had told me they weren't biological brothers, but even with the white streak in this guy's otherwise jet black hair, I knew he was Dick's brother. He came to a stop in front of me, and I might've been a little thrown off by his good looks if I wasn't also so pissed.

"Coach Y/N, I take it?" he asked, holding out a hand for me to shake. I just scowled back at him.

"Yeah. And you're Mr. Thirty Minutes Late To Practice."

The guy–definitely Jason Todd, since he didn't correct me–narrowed his eyes slightly as he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Yeah, sorry. It was kind of a rough night."

I took a second to breathe in deeply, then let the breath out through my nose. This guy was Dick's brother, after all, and for all I knew he might've had a perfectly good reason for being late. I made myself meet his eyes and forced down some of the impatience I'd been feeling.

"Jason. It's good to meet you. Thank you for volunteering while Dick's gone." He nodded and shifted on his feet, looking a little uncomfortable. I sighed. "How much do you know about basketball?"

"Some," he said with a shrug. "I played for a little while when I was really young, and I watch it sometimes now, but that's it."

"Alright. Well, for today, I'm just going to have you run the girls through some simple drills like defensive slides and foot fires while I work on plays and some specific moves with the other half. Deal?"

"Sure."

I turned to share the new plan with the girls, but stopped and turned back again after a few steps. Jason still slouched a few feet away from me looking disgruntled.

"Listen, Jason? I really do appreciate the help, but... the girls and I take this very seriously. If you can't do that for the next two weeks... I think we might be better off without you."

I turned before Jason could really even react, not particularly interested in a comeback. The girls were waiting for me, after all, done with their water break and ready to get back into the action.

We split off into separate groups for the next hour, Jason running drills the girls probably could've done on their own while I worked with a few at a time on more position-specific drills. Finally, with half an hour left, we took one more break before it would be time to spend the last half hour scrimaging. I stood off to one side mentally making the first two groups of five, but stopped my mental planning when Jason wandered over to me, looking more than a little tired.

"How you holding up?" I asked, only half trying to conceal a smile and laugh. Jason huffed.

"They're insane," he said, slumping against the wall next to me and crossing his arms. "They interrupted me five times in the first drill to tell me I was explaining it wrong. And they were mean about it, too!"

I didn't even bother trying to hide my smile this time. "Yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said they took this seriously. It helps to have another adult in their area when I'm doing other stuff, but... they could probably run those drills themselves."

Jason gave a thoughtful hum, but didn't say anything else. I gave him a second and finished making the first set of teams in my head, then stepped to the middle of the court and clapped my hands.

"Alright girls! Let's get this scrimmage going!"

We flew through the last half hour of practice, all of the girls in excellent form. Jason kept watching, seeming much more interested and engaged than before, but he didn't chime in with anything. For the last two minutes, we practiced wild half-court shots "just in case" (and mostly for fun), then huddled up at center court as the parents started to arrive.

"Alright, great practice today everybody, as usual," I said. Even though it was the end of practice, no one looked like they were itching to go; everyone stayed laser-focus locked on me. "Now that today is over, we officially have nine practices left before our tournament next weekend. That means nine practices to get as good as we can possibly get."

The girls hooted and hollered, and our captain, Angie, chimed in.

"And to get ready to destroy all comers!"

The other girls cheered for her statement, and I grinned.

"Damned right. You girls are incredible, and should already be so proud of how far we've come. The other teams aren't gonna know what hit 'em next weekend!"

A chorus of "yeah!"s.

"Good! Now, what team?"

"Wildcats!"

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

"Alright! We'll see you girls tomorrow!"

They all cheered, wished me a good night, and wandered off to find their parents. I watched them go with a smile as Jason wandered up to my side.

"That's not how I remember the High School Musical cheer going."

I shrugged. "Our mascot's the wildcats, but we're our own entity. Our own, slightly more cutthroat entity."

"I like it."

I finally turned to look at Jason and found him already staring at me with a mischievous smile.

"Listen, I know I wasn't very helpful today," he started. I snorted, but gave him a small smile so he knew I was mostly teasing. "But, if you'll let me... I have a couple ideas that might help over the next few weeks."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?"

****************

"Okay girls, lean into the contact! Stand your ground, really let your opponent push into you and push right back!"

I smiled as I watched Jason work with the girls. For our second practice together, he'd come early to walk me through a more detailed plan of some ideas he'd had. Like Dick, he had better experience than me with physical training and the best way to help other people strengthen themselves and specific areas. Unlike Dick, he'd immediately leaned into my more ruthless energy, and had come up with a new strategy we were in the middle of implementing.

Within a few seconds, Group A–the offensive group–stepped away from their partners. Group B, the defenders, stumbled and, in some cases, even fell. Jason beamed around at all of them.

"Great work, that's exactly what we want. Ref can't call you for anything, and the other team'll think a little harder before laying all over you in the paint again."

The girls' feral grins were response enough to tell me how they felt about that new strategy. I couldn't help mirroring their expressions as they went to get water and I went to stand by Jason.

"Nice work," I said. Jason turned to grin at me, and my heart skipped a beat in a way it never did when I coached with Dick. "I've gotta say, day one was rough, but I love the energy you've been bringing since."

"What, you're telling me Dick didn't bring the scorched-Earth energy?" he joked. I chuckled, shrugging at the thought of my usual partner being paired with the phrase "scorched-Earth".

"Dick came up with some absolutely insane yet somehow effective strategic trick plays," I said. "He's always a positive, encouraging energy, especially when the rest of us get a little too intense. But yeah, his usual role is the balance to our bloodthirstiness."

Jason nodded. "Sounds like him. Usually, at least."

I squinted a little at that as Jason stared off at the far wall, but then he shook his head and turned back to me. Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and I swear it was contagious as I mirrored him. Then, he spoke.

"I'm planning on bringing a slightly different energy to the team."

****************

"Alright girls, this is it!" I cried, staring around at the huddle of intense, focused faces around me. "We win this, and we not only win the tournament, but we're set up with the number one seed for the postseason. You've played amazing so far, and nobody can take that away from you. Keep it up for the rest of this game, and let's finish this thing!"

Everyone nodded as I spoke, an excited fire flickering in every person's eyes. After two weeks of practice and some new strategies from Jason, we'd spent Saturday carving through our early opponents like they were nothing. Now, after a long Sunday, we'd battled our way to the championship game. We'd gone into halftime tied, and the next two quarters would be everything for us.

If Dick were here, he would've referenced the "Sixteen Minutes" song from High School Musical, since that's how much game time we had left. But he wasn't here, and Jason and I both had different things on our minds.

"We're tied, which means we can take this as a fresh start," I continued. "Go out there and outplay them for the next two quarters, and it's ours. Leave it all on the floor and show them just who they're messing with."

The girls cheered, and I glanced up at Jason.

"Coach? Anything to add?"

"Yeah. I've only been here two weeks, but that was enough to realize that this team is full of the toughest, scariest competitors I've ever seen. So go out there, show no mercy, and crush anybody that tries to stand in your way!"

The girls and I all roared in approval, and Jason's feral grin fit right in with all of us. It was hard to believe he'd really only been here two weeks; he seemed like part of the team that'd always been here.

The buzzer sounded behind us, signaling it was time to retake the court.

"Alright girls, let's do this!" I shouted. "What team?"

"Wildcats!" screamed everyone, Jason included, at the top of their lungs.

"What team?"

"Wildcats!"

"Wildcats!"

"Destroy all comers!"

The girls clapped as our starters headed out onto the floor and Jason and I shifted to stand next to each other at the front of the bench, just off the court.

"See the looks we just got from the opposing team?" asked Jason with a grin. Behind him, the other players and coaches were still giving us side-eye and concerned looks. I smiled.

"Oh yeah. The intimidation mind game is half the reason for that cheer."

"Nice."

Jason and I fist-bumped, and then turned our attention back to the game as it got underway. One way or another, this was it.

Despite the intimidation to start the second half, the other team put up a great fight. It wasn't easy, but our girls managed to persevere. Jason went wild whenever one of them used a move he'd taught, and we both spent the game screaming from the sidelines with encouragement, play calls, and just a bit of extreme, "destroy all comers" mindset. In the end, we won by eight. All our girls rushed the court, screaming and celebrating, then tamped it down long enough to be good sports and go through handshakes with the other team. Afterwards, we all gathered in a corner of the gym to do a debrief before the celebrations continued.

"Alright, I'll keep this short since I see your parents waiting to join in the celebration," I said, grinning around at my team. "You guys played amazing. You should be so, so proud of yourselves. I know I'm crazy proud of you. You worked your butts off, put it all out on the floor, and won the tournament! We've still got plenty of work ahead of us before the season's over, but that's a problem for later. For now, celebrate! Celebrate yourselves, this victory, and everything we've accomplished as a team."

The girls smiled and nodded through my speech, and when I finished, they paused before going off to their celebrations to each give me a tight hug. Then, one by one, they did the same to Jason. A few of the girls who'd used his moves thanked him for his help, and most of them paused to tell him they'd miss him. I just watched as Jason's face went from shocked, to slightly uncomfortable, to a bit of a frown.

He waved the last girl off, watching them go. Slowly, I sidled up to him, watching our team meet up with their friends and parents. I gave him a second, then sighed.

"I need to call Dick," I said. "I promised him I'd let him know how the tournament came out, like, seven times before he left, he was so upset to miss it."

Jason just gave a little noncommittal "hm" without looking at me. I watched him for a second, still staring after our team, then continued.

"You know... a lot of teams in our league have three coaches, not just two." Jason snapped his head around to look at me with wide eyes. "I don't want you to feel like you have to, but... I think the girls seriously love you, and it looks like you had fun. I'm sure Dick wouldn't mind if you wanted to... stick around?"

Slowly, his expression morphed into a smile, and his eyes slid from me back to where the girls were high-fiving and reliving the weekend. He stood a little straighter, his smile widening, and then he turned back to me with a glint in his eye. Not for the first time since I started working with him, my heart skipped a beat.

"I've got a question before I agree," he said. I raised an eyebrow and nodded for him to continue. "Is there any rule about coaches asking each other on dates?"

Now it was Jason's turn to watch with a grin while I managed a shocked expression. After a few seconds, a smile started tugging at my lips as I processed his words. Before I could answer, he held up his hands and continued.

"I'm asking, of course, to see if I need to wait until the end of the season. Grayson may be good at the peppiness and creative trick plays, but clearly this team thrives with coaches as ruthless as them."

I beamed at him, my heart floating in my chest. "Fortunately for us, there's no rule against coaches going on dates. The girls are gonna be merciless teasing us about it though. They were relentless for weeks when Dick first joined the team, and we weren't actually dating."

Jason smiled and took a step closer to me.

"I think we can handle them."

"Mmm, I'm not sure you're right, but I'm willing to do it anyway."

"You wanna go get drinks now? Celebrate a little for our first date?"

"I'm in." He held out his hand to me and I took it, then held up my phone with my other hand. "Just let me call Dick before we go."

Jason nodded, and I dialed Dick's number on FaceTime. Jason leaned over my shoulder, our arms linked together and a massive grin on his face. The phone rang for a long time, then finally, Dick's face appeared on screen. He looked a little tired and rumpled, but he smiled when he saw us.

"Hey guys! How'd it go?"

"We won!" I shouted.

"You've got a new co-coach, Dickie Bird!" shouted Jason at the same time.

Dick laughed, then beamed back at both of us through the camera. "That's great! Jay, I'm glad you ended up loving it as much as I thought you might."

Jason grinned. "Yeah, well, before I started you forgot to mention the cutthroat team energy."

Dick grimaced a little as Jason went on, probably realizing he now had TWO insane co-coaches to try to balance out, but I just smiled. For the rest of this season, I'd be working with my favorite kids in the world, my best friend, and a possible new boyfriend.

No one else in the league was going to stand a chance.

[simpforfandoms]

Sign of the Times

This is literally the song of Achilles, legit plagiarism. All respect to Madeline Miller. I reread it, still as good as the first time reading it.

pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

summary: When you died, all things soft and beautiful would be buried with you.

warnings: ooc dick, plagiarism (all creds to Madeline Miller), does not follow canon

masterlist

“Name one hero who was happy.” He says, laying down in the field with you.

You considered it. “You can't.” He was sitting up now, leaning forward. “I can't.” You echoed. “I know. They never let you be famous AND happy.” He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." You loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took your pinky and interlaced it with his. "Promise it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason.” He said as a matter of factly, “promise it." "I promise," You said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I know I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you," he stated. You and he sat like that for a moment, hands touching.

…

Joker was on the loose again. This time taking over Gotham. Bruce, Jason, Tim, Damian, Cassandra, Duke, and Stephanie were all in danger. Dick is their only hope now.

“Don’t let them die because of his madness. They have done nothing but love you.”

"Love me? Not one of them stood with me against Bruce. Not one of them defended me." The bitterness in his tone shocked you. "They stood by and let him insult me. As if he were right! I have been there for them for years and their repayment is to get rid of me." His eyes had gone dark and distant. "They have made their choice. I have made mine."

"They’re still our family!”

"They can save themselves." He would have walked away, had you not grabbed his arm.

"You are destroying yourself. Please, if you-"

"Y/n." The word was sharp, as he had never spoken it. His eyes looked down on you, "I will not do this. Do not ask again."

You try to find the words to get through to him. Maybe there was none. He would not fight. They would die with no mercy. You search your brain for anything at all that could reason with him.

“For me then,” you said, “Save them for me.”

He looked down at you. You saw what your words had meant to him. The struggle in his eyes. He swallowed.

“Anything else? Anything. But not this. I can’t”

You looked at his beautiful face, “if you love me-“

“No!” He yelled. “You do not get to do that. You don’t get to pick and choose what battles you want me to fight.”

“Fine then. Their blood will be on your hands.” You let out.

He huffs and then leaves for the bedroom. You watch him leave. Your stomach feels burned to cinders; your palms ache where your nails have cut into them. Your rage towards him is hot as blood. You will never forgive him, you think. You imagine locking yourself in the bathroom, smashing every picture you have together, then stabbing yourself in the stomach and bleeding to death. You want to see his face broken with grief and regret. You want to shatter the cold mask of stone that has sipped down over the boy you knew. You do not know this man. He is no one you have ever seen before. A once innocent boy is now consumed by an unexplainable rage. He has given up on them. His family. Deliberately sending them off to their doom. If he does not help them, then you will.

…

A series of events have led you to your current situation. Your hand lifted, holding a gun in threat. One thing led to another and now you're pointing a gun at Joker.

You imagine how Dick would do it, feet planted to the ground, back muscles twisting. He would throw the gun and take down Joker in a more reasonable way. Without death. But you are not Dick. What you do is something, your only chance at survival. His henchmen are almost there. You’re wasting time. You shoot the pistol.

It hits his head. You have killed the Clown Prince of Crime, the joker. You hear the shouts, men swarming around you. You had lost control. Killing a man with no remorse. Someone you never imagined doing. The worst part is that you do not feel regret. This is the man that for years has killed innocent people. For years had tortured your family. Your only med of survival now is to run.

You lunge on your feet. Through the haze of terror, you see a man firing a gun at you. You dodge the bullet, shocked you are not dead already. You have never been so fast in all your life. Wally would be proud.

Then, a bullet comes from behind. You do not see it, but you hear it. It pierces the skin of your back. You stumble, driven forward by the blow's force, by the shock of the tearing pain and the burning numbness in your stomach. The blood gushes out onto your shirt. You think you scream.

“She’s mine.” You hear a cold voice.

The blood runs through your hands onto the earth below. The henchmen part and you see a woman in purple walking toward you. You know her. Punchline. Alexis Kaye. Joker’s girlfriend. She does not look at the men who surround her; she walks as if she were alone on the battlefield. She is coming to kill you, as a reparation for your sin.

Your breaths are shallow gasps that feel like new wounds tearing. Desperately, you turn to the men around you and scrabble at their knees.

“Please,” you croak. “Please.”

She is close now, her gun raised. The only sound you hear is your own heavy lungs. Punchline's gun lifts over you. And then it fires towards you.

“No.” You scream, to no avail.

Your hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to stop the bullets' relentless movement toward your heart. It submerges in a sear of pain so great that your breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over your whole body. Your head drops back against the ground, and the last image you see is her, leaning over you, smiling a sadistic smile, one that will haunt you. The last thing you think of is Dick. Oh, how you love him.

…

As soon as Dick realized you had left he rushed over to Gotham. He was so angry at himself for not listening to you. If he did, you wouldn’t be put in harm's way. He texted every member of his family to be on the lookout for you. Praying to the heavens above that you were safe. By the time he arrives, the people are celebrating. Joker is dead.  The battle is won, but the war is far from over.

He knows he should feel relieved and happy, but he cannot. There is a numbness in him. Something has happened. What? He does not know. You will be able to tell him. He’s sure of it. Still, the pit in his stomach lingers. He cannot help but feel worried.

Then he gets a text from Jason saying they found you and to go to the Batcave immediately.

So he does. The worry only grows as he rushes out of his car.

Then he sees it.

A blood-stained cloth on top of a body. The realization crashes upon him, making him lose his breath. He runs towards the body, throwing Jason and Bruce out of the way. He falls onto the body.

Your body.

He removes the cloth just to make sure his thoughts are not deceiving him. A scream erupts. And then another, and another. He hastily cradles your head in his hands. He says your name. Over and over again. Until it is the only sound.

Bruce urges him to let go of you. But he would not let go of you. He cannot. He holds you so tightly, your dead body can feel his heartbeat. He weeps. He cradles you. He can not speak another word other than your name. His tears fall but you cannot wipe them.

It’s all his fault. He should’ve just listened to you. He should have been there. He was selfish and arrogant.

Eventually, he utters something other than your name.

“Who did this?” His voice is a terrible thing, cracked and broken

“Punchline,” Damian says.

Dick’s gaze hardens. Fantasizing about all the ways he can exact his revenge. Bruce takes a step forward, placing his hand on Dick’s shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!” Dick yells.

Bruce draws back, watching his grip grow tighter on you, “don’t kill her.”

Instead of replying Dick just looks at him with so much anger and regret.

“She’ll kill you, Dick.”

“Do you think I don’t want that?” He looks up to Bruce, blood, your blood all over him. A truly broken man sits before Bruce. A man that has lost everything.

He had lost you. His love. His soulmate. His world.

Gone.

Irrevocably and forever.

…

“Punchline!” he screams. “Punchline!”

He tears through the henchmen guarding her, shattering collar bones and faces, marking them with his fury.

Punchline calls attention to herself by running away. Any other day she would take him on, but this time he is consumed by a rage that she has never seen. It scares her. No one thinks that it is cowardly for her to run. She will not live if she is caught. She knows that. Chest heaving, she races towards the fire escape. Dick runs to follow. Then a figure emerges. Shaped like a man in a bat suit.

Nightwing’s face is consumed by rage, “you will not keep her from me.”

“Killing her won’t end your pain.” The dark knight says.

Dick steps closer to him and raises his fists. Batman swings his fist. Nightwing ducks then rolls forward over the returning whistle of a second swing. He gains his feet and strikes, whipping toward Batman’s chest. Easily, almost casually, the knight twists away.

Batman attacks. His punches force Dick backward. He must spring away at each punch. Dick eventually finds the space to counterattack. Batman catches every blow, forcing Dick to move faster and faster. Bruce is old, he knows every trick there is in the book, and there is nothing new to him. Nightwing begins to slow, worn out from the fighting. Batman seems to be relieved at how often he seems to duck rather than meet his blows. Dicks face is contorted with effect and focus. He is fighting at the edge, at the very edge of his power. He is not, after all, Batman.

He’s gathering himself, preparing one final blow, a desperate attack. He begins the pass, fists blaring toward Bruce’s head. For a second, Bruce must dodge to avoid it. That is the moment he needs. He grabs a discarded piece of rumple and strikes. A gash flowers in Bruce’s side. He will not die though. But he must limp away, weakened and weary.

Dick’s face is sweat-streaked, his breaths harsh, but he continues running.

“Punchline!” He screams.

The hunt begins again. It is only punchline he wants. Punchline, and Punchline alone. When she is dead, he will stop.

There is a roof on top of the building. Too tall to jump off of. Too late to turn back. It is there that Alexis stops running. Two people face each other. One of them is light. She wears a purple and black outfit with red cheeks painted red.

The other one’s face is twisted almost beyond recognition. His blood still pumping from his fight with his father figure. Alexis’ eyes are wide, but she will not run any longer.

She says, “Grant me this, bury me with Joker when you have killed me.”

Dick makes a choking sound, “There is no comprise. I will kill you then I will burn you to insure you can never come back.”

He leaps forward with a knife he has been holding and slices her throat. Letting her bleed out to death. Just like how she let you bleed to death.

…

Dick returns to the cave, where your body waits. His hands are bloody. His family is waiting for him. They know not to say anything. It is done. The war is over. But at what cost?

It is Alfred that breaks the silence, “go bathe and rest yourself, master Dick.”

Dick pushes through them and heads up to the manor.

…

Your eulogy was beautiful. Dick could not bring himself to do it, knowing your death was his fault. He made Jason do it. Knowing you were the closest with him. You had no biological family, but you often referred to them as your family. And they truly were. Everyone adored you and loved you. At the after-party, Dick just sits on the sofa staring off into space, now and then looking up and thanking people for their condolences.

“Master Richard” Alfred calls him, holding a plate, “will you not eat?”

“You know I won’t.”

Alfred touches his hand to his shoulder. He flinches.

“Stop”

Alfred’s face goes blank for a second.

When he speaks, his voice is hard, “You have killed her and taken your vengeance. It is enough. Stop punishing yourself.”

“It will never be enough,” Dick says.

“It is the greatest grief to be left on earth while the other one is gone. But let there be comfort in the fact that her memory will live on.” Alfred states.

Dick sighs. He knows that after this he must go home to an empty house. Pictures reminding him of you. He can’t do it anymore. He won’t. Life is unbearable without you. He was stupid to take you for granted. He had spent his whole life loving you. He has no idea how to live it without you. Perhaps he isn’t supposed to.

…

Word spread to Blüdhaven what Nightwing had done. Nightwing was now not a foe to death. Many villains, fearing for their life, escaped to neighboring cities where they know they will not be killed. But oh not Blockbuster. He’d kill Nightwing before he ever got the chance to kill him. Blockbuster aims. Then the bullet flies, straight and silently towards Dick’s back.

He hears the faint hum of its passage a second before it strikes. He turns his head a little, as to watch it come. He closes his eyes and feels it push through his skin, parting muscles, working its way past his ribs. Then, at last, it reaches his heart. Blood spills between his shoulder blades. Thick and crimson. Dick smiles as his face strikes the earth.

…

In the darkness, two shadows reached through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

[teddypines]

Thunderstorm

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sumary: Cute moment with Batmom!reader and Damian who is afraid of thunderstorm.

Batmom!reader x Damain, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: I don't know Batman lore like i know mcu lore. Everything i know is from the cartoon's i watched as a kid and the fanfic's and webtoon i read. So if somthings are out of charachter, i'm sorry. Also the other boy's live at home i don't care if it isn't canon.

Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Damian always acted like he was an adult, because in his eyes he thought he was, even when Y/N knew the boy was far from being an adult. She always tried to give him small moments that normal kids his age had in an attempt to make up for the things Talia had done in the past. This included letting him come to her if he needed, no matter the time or place.

It was just a normal Friday night in the Wayne household. Y/N was cuddled up to Bruce’s side on the couch. Jason and Dick to her right both bickering about which guy the girl on tv would end up with. Tim was curled up in his blanket on the chair, tiredly typing away on his laptop and Damian was trying to stay close to Bruce’s side but didn’t want to make it obvious that he wanted to cuddle. The rain outside made for a cozy feel for the whole moment, it made Y/N happy. The kids and Bruce are safe at home with her and not out on patrol or fighting crime. 

Y/N sighed as the tv show Jason and Dick were watching was finally over. So she took the remote and quickly turned the channels to look at the weather forecast. “Owh, boy looks like we are going to have a thunderstorm tonight. Good thing I don't have to worry about you all being out.” Y/N said before switching channels again. The fact that it was going to storm didn’t really bother Bruce or the boy’s. Except for Damian, he was stressed internally, but he didn’t want his brothers to know. They would probably laugh if they knew he was scared of a thunderstorm. Y/N looked over at Damian. “Everything okay, Dami?” She asked, the troubled look on Damian’s face made her worry. “Y-yes, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, just tired.” Damian rambled back at Y/N. 

“I think I might go to bed too,” Tim said after Jason left the living room. He closed his laptop and wiggled out of his blanket. He made his way over to Y/N and Bruce, Y/N already opening her arms for Tim. “Night night, Pumpkin” Y/N said to Tim when he was safely in her arms. “Goodnight, momma. Night, dad. Love you” Tim answered, staying in Y/N’s arms for a little while. “We love you too, Pumpkin” Y/N said in between kisses she placed on Tim’s head. Bruce wrapped his arm around Tim too, but only for a moment. “Now off to bed, Pumpkin, don’t want you to fall asleep here again” Y/N said which made Tim reluctantly pull away. Soon After Dick said his goodnights too and left the living room with Tim. 

“I bet little Dami is just scared of the thunderstorm.” Jason commented as he leaned back against the couch, a small smirk spread across his face. "No! I am not scared!” Damian yepped back at Jason, he pouted a bit after. Bruce held back a small laugh at Damian’s pouty face which earned him a jab in the side form Y/N.

“Don’t tease your brother like that, Jay bird and Dami, it's okay if you're scared of thunderstorms” Y/N said hoping to resolve the small situation. Jason grumbled a bit before getting off the couch. "Fine! I'm off to bed.” He wanted to quickly disappear, but Y/N didn’t let him. “Night night, Jay bird” She said with a smile. Jason groaned and quickly hugged her. “Night mom” He whispered to Y/N.

“You should go to bed soon too, Dami, and if the storm scares you it’s okay to come to us. We’ll protect you from the storm” Y/N said in an attempt to sooth Damian’s worry about the upcoming thunderstorm. She reached over Bruce and gently ran a hand over Damian’s head. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry” Damian answered a bit distant. He didn’t want Y/N (or Bruce) to worry about him. “Just know we’re there when you do need us” Bruce said to Damian in a stern but reassuring way. Damain just nodded his head and pulled off the couch. “I’ll be fine, night”

It did upset Y/N just a bit that Damian didn’t get his usual good night hug, but she knew he would be by her side the moment the thunder storm started. Bruce pulled Y/N on top of him and kissed her cheek. “He’ll be back, love” 

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The thunderstorm started around 1:30 AM, just when Y/N found a comfy position next to Bruce. The thunder wasn’t as bad in the beginning, but got worse after 20 minutes. After one particular loud thunder Y/N awoke to the weight shifting on the bed. She opened her eyes and was met with a very scared Damian. “Umi? C-can i stay with you and… and dad?” Damian stuttered through his tears. "Always, baby” Y/N answered. She pulled away from Bruce’s side and turned over so Damian could cuddle against her. “I see you brought mister Moo” Y/N pointed at the plush cow in Damian’s arms. “Maybe…” He whispered, busying himself with finding the best way to lay next to Y/N. Wanting to be as close to her as he could. He slowly closed his eyes but flinched when another thunder strike was heard. 

“Shhh, it’s okay Dami, you're safe in bed with us. No need to be scared, Thor is just a bit extra mad at Loki tonight.” Y/N whispered to Damian. a reassuring hand was placed on Damian’s back. Damian shifted his head to look up at Y/N. “What?” Y/N laughed a bit. “You heard me. Thor is mad at Loki, that’s why the thunder is so loud tonight. Loki probably stabbed him again or tricked him by being a cute snake.” Y/N explained as Damian listened. He knew that what Y/N said was just based on stories and myths, but he liked it. Made the thunderstorm less scary. “Really? Why would Loki do that?” He asked. “Well, Loki really likes attention and sometimes he thinks he doesn’t get enough of it, so he asks for attention. But he does it in the only way he knows how, by being a little shit head and stabbing Thor or tricking the others.” Y/N explained. Bruce groaned a bit as he heard Y/N talk. He turned over and saw Damian hiding against her. 

“Or Thor just stubbed his toe.” Bruce added while propping his arm underneath his head. “Yes, that is possible too” Y/N answered with a small nod of her head. Damian laughed a bit and yawned. “I like that one better, big oof stubbing his toe.”

“Yeah, see now the thunder isn’t so bad is it?” Y/N asked as she yawned as well. Damian only nodded his head in answer. The storm outside was still going on, but Thor just stubbed his toe so that made the thunder more understandable. It was a story, but the story helped Damian feel less scared. 

“Alright, love you” Y/N promised before drifting off to sleep. Bruce smiled at the two. He placed gentle kisses on both their heads before falling asleep as well.

Y/N smiled as she watched Damian fall asleep against her. She turned her head to look at Bruce. “Out like a light,” She said. Bruce smiled and tried to lay back down next to Y/N. “Yeah, but he’s taking all of the comfy spots on the bed” Y/N rolled her eyes and held out her hand for Bruce to hold. “Tomorrow night you can sleep against me again.” Y/N reassured Bruce while he held onto her hand. “Fine, but I expect extra cuddles then!”

[impyssadobsessions]

Ahh I'm so glad I got to draw this! The Guess that Artist event in Haunting Heroes discord really gave me a reason to revisit this oneshot, Some Things You Just Can't Speak about by starfirez. Its just such a cute short story. I tried to make the change obvious. And I know the lighting doesn't show, but I purposely made Jason's palette red and Dick's cool tone to match who he was going to turn into >w< There somethings im not completely happy with but I adore how baby jason came out <3

Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About (4399 words) by starfirez Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Batfamily (DCU), playstation as a metaphor for love, just run with it please, Sibling Bonding Summary: "Go away Bruce, I ain’t talking to you," Jason said hotly. "Not Bruce," Dick replied, trying not to be offended by the mistake as Jason lifted the sheet to examine him. "Just me." "Yeah," Jason agreed, almost bitterly. "Just you." The more things change, the more they stay the same.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

By the Fireplace

BRUCE WAYNE X READER

MDNI wc: 1.2K summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend. warnings: alcohol comsumption, dry humping a/n: It's not perfect but it's also nearing midnight so i don't care. Enjoy!!

It‘s been a relaxing evening so far, hanging out with your long time best friend in his lounge by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in hand, and some deep talk. Bruce will never openly admit it, but he feels like you are the only one who understands him. While being slightly drunk, it‘s easier to relax and shut his mind off. Especially sitting beside you on the comfortable couch; he wants to stay like that forever.

The shared comfortable silence almost makes him fall asleep, but his mind can‘t seem to find complete peace beside you. Even when his head is leaning against the top of your head, he can‘t seem to fully relax yet.

You feel almost the same. You do feel relaxed, safe even, but something keeps stirring inside of you when you are so close to him. Ignoring it and taking another sip of your drink, you watch the fireplace crackle contentedly in front of you.

Bruce sighs out beside you, indicating his tiredness after talking about everything and nothing for hours.

»Want a refill?«

He leans off of you for the first time in probably half an hour and reaches for the whiskey bottle by the coffee table. You shrug and sit up more, letting him fill your glass with the dark liquid.

His movements are slightly disoriented, but he manages to get all the liquid into your glass, and then get more for himself. With a low hum, Bruce sips on his drink, eventually leaning back on the couch. His once perfectly put together appearance became more dishevelled, some strands of hair sticking out in different directions while his tie is resting somewhere in the room; long forgotten.

You also take another quick sip, already used to the bitterness and set it aside for now.

»So… I think it‘s time to go, isn‘t it?«

The time on your phone shows that it‘s well past one am, but Bruce thinks otherwise. A small whine leaves him, completely uncharacteristic normally, but very on point in his drunken state.

»C‘mon, you‘ve only been here for what… two hours?«

He sways on his spot as he leans up and turns to face you fully.

It‘s not exactly true, you‘ve been in his living room for six hours by now, talking nonsense with each other. Gossiping, mostly.

But with your intoxicated brains it‘s hard to tell anymore. So, logically, you sigh out and give in. How could you resist your best of bestest friend anyway?

»A few more minutes, then...«

And that‘s how easily you can make him smile again. It‘s crooked and his eyes are mostly unfocused, but he is satisfied with your easy compliance. And tonight, he seems to be bolder with his actions.

»C‘mere… please,« sighing out, he opens his arms and almost tackles you down with his hug, »such a good friend.« He mumbles against your shoulder, basically squeezing you tight with his arms. If it wouldn‘t been the alcohol, you would‘ve pushed him away by now and pretend to find the physical affection cringe. Not that he does it a lot, only rarely when he is sure you are both absolutely alone.

A second after, you hug him back and sigh out in relaxation. You both melt together into one not too long after, refusing to let go of the other while basking in the comfort.

»I‘m definitely sleeping here tonight.«

You are not sure if you refer to his arms or couch, not caring at this point. He takes your words seriously and squeezes you lightly, almost making your breath hitch.

»Mhm… damn right, you will.«

His voice drops lower, getting into a low whisper as he keeps you close to his chest, refusing to let go of the comfort and sweet scent of you.

Even though you didn‘t mean your words at first, you find yourself quickly accepting the fact that this night will be spend here. Hell, you wouldn‘t mind falling asleep right now like this.

A small groan leaves him and he finds himself nuzzling into your neck, searching for more warmth and most importantly your scent. He needs to make sure you are actually still there and not just a silly imagination he came up with.

Following his actions, you wrap you arms tighter around his neck, shifting to press closer. Your clouded brain can‘t help it, neither does his own and soon enough, your limbs are tangled with the other in a more chaotic way. Thanks to Bruce‘s master-brain, he finds a more comfortable position and lets you straddle his lap.

Finally seated, you both relax and simply enjoy the presence of the other. You don‘t know what changed exactly, but in the next minute he is all over you.

Hands groping gently at your curves and fats, lips tracing your skin down your neck and shoulder. Your shirt seems to be in the way, but he is also too lazy to tug it off just yet.

Your brain catches up on what‘s happening and by the time he already started, you can‘t just stop. Acting by logic and pure desire, you give into the act and tangle your fingers into his hair, guiding his head around a little.

Soon, the room fills his soft grunts and your heavy breathing. His hips desperatly jerk up and try to get friction, but it‘s harder in this position when his chest is pressed against yours and you are also pressed completely against him. Deciding you have enough of the friction that‘s barely even there, you lean him back into the back rest and do it your own way.

Hips grinding and sliding against his crotch earns a groan from both of you. The new friction feels more intense and delicious, soon getting breathless from it. His hands settle on your thighs and the small of your back, guiding you in a steady rythm.

Due to the effect of the alcohol, it‘s actually more sloppy than anything, but you both couldn‘t care less. It‘s sloppy, messy, hungry, whatever; you both need this.

Your heavy breaths turn into small whimpers, getting him riled even more than he already is. And then it happens, the final knot snapping without warning. You never came so fast before, maybe it‘s your intoxicated brain, maybe it‘s just Bruce alone, but it feels heavenly either way.

Your hips stutter and thighs shake on either side of him, and for a moment he stills too. A primal groan leaves him before he grabs onto your hips and continues, the pace faster and rougher. His brain immediately went to mush the second he realised what happened.

»Oh, yeah— s‘ good f‘ me… just like that, a little longer,« Bruce mutters under his breath, sucking new marks against the exposed skin of your neck and suddenly drags your hips painfully slow against him, trying to draw out as many needy sounds from you and milk out as many possible aftershocks from you at the same time.

The way he does it is enough to draw a second orgasm out of you, but your body simply gives out. A few final trembles and jerks, then you slump limp onto him.

Sighing out deeply, he caresses over your back and settles back comfortably with you. Your brain shuts off at the same time and are on the brink of falling asleep until he speaks up, voice low and dangerous.

»That‘s not all, doll… gonna stay the whole night, aren‘t ya?«

←MASTERLIST

[leoivys]

𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff and mostly batfam stuff instead of just romance

– summary; a casually chaotic Secret Santa with the bat family as Jason's partner.

– word count; 1.5k

The roofs of the houses were beginning to gain a white hue as more snowflakes fell gracefully – the children in the city found joy in it, their laughter echoed in the streets while they initiated snowball fights with their friends and neighbors. Adults were busy shopping or grabbing a coffee to catch up in the presence of their loved ones, and the holiday music played in every street. Christmas was known for bringing even the most distant people back together.

A part of you hated how cold it was, but it was your idea to take a walk around the city with your partner before you drove over to the manor for Christmas day like you usually do. However, how can one ignore such events on these joyous days just for their own comfort?

The fuzzy feeling of the gloves around your hands and your coat enveloping you in its warmth was rather enjoyable even if the world outside was freezing while you walked with Jason. A soft sigh escaped you as you finally entered Wayne Manor, welcomed by Alfred opening the door for you and the heat that escaped the inside of the building.

Greetings, hugs, and smiles were exchanged with more excitement than usual while you took your seat on the couch in the main living room amongst the rest of the family – everything was decorated; the tree that you all helped set up, stockings on the fireplace with everyone's names engraved on the soft red fabric and no one can skip Alfred's baked goods resting on the coffee table.

It's odd thinking that a few years back, most of the family members were off doing their own thing instead of being here and spending time with everyone else like Jason avoided them for a good few years before he finally gave in. Now, everyone was present and agreed to have a Secret Santa along with the rest of the activities scheduled for that day.

Tim and Damian were surprisingly getting along, wearing matching Christmas sweaters as well, and then you noticed Dick supervising the two with a proud smile drawn on his face as he kept a conversation with Jason and Steph. Duke was helping Alfred bring in more sweets on the table. Cass and Barbara were calmly chatting with you about various topics and the one at hand; who was Secret Santa for who?

Meanwhile, Bruce observed everyone with a hint of a smile and a sigh as the place filled with chatter and the life it lacked most of the year due to responsibilities, his shoulders relaxed as he was more than happy to host this event annually and welcome his family –and those who he considered family��� home.

“Alright everyone, enough of your chit chats. Let's start.” Dick stated, too excited to wait even further as he quickly moved to grab a present from under the tree and took a moment to read the name on it and handed it to Cass, and then kept handing out presents to everyone.

Each family member got something based on their personality, training, or hobby, and some presents were filled with meme cards describing them. Eager chuckles echoed in the room before Bruce interrupted.

“Who got that for Damian?” He asked in a mockingly firm tone as he pointed at the young boy swaying a katana similar to the one he had when he got trained by his grandfather in his hands. Just before anyone could answer, Barbara did everyone a favor and started playing Christmas music through the speakers set by the tree.

Jason scoffed at the sight of Bruce's dynamic with Damian – it had been a while since a youngling had given him a heart attack, enjoying the show and unwrapping his present. His hands traced the hardcover of the book as he lifted it up and read the title; ‘All the light we cannot see’ which had him confused for a moment. He had that book in his library already, didn't he? So he studied it further, flipping through the first few pages only to find that not only was it a first edition copy, but it was signed too.

His eyes flicked to you as his hands traced the sign on the delicate page of the book before he snapped the book closed with a smile brighter than the star atop the tree. Jason immediately knew that his gift was from you since he had been ranting about how much he wanted this for the past month or so. His suspicions were confirmed by the smile on your face.

It was really hard to find it online and get it signed just for him, but you knew it would be worth it.

“You didn't.” Jason mumbled, finding the fact that he had this book in his hands as he clutched onto it like it might disappear into thin air.

The known-for-his-violent-ways Red Hood was now acting like a literal child on Christmas, completely awestruck and bringing you in a tight hug as he muttered his thank you's. His attitude earned a chuckle from you, his embrace giving you even more warmth while his heart was beating out of his chest.

Duke blinked a few times. The newest addition to the family was having a hard time trying to process the sight before him. “Is Jason okay, or is he having some sort of cardiac arrest?” he managed to mutter, his gaze shifting to everyone else laughing at his question.

Your gift consisted of newly made gadgets, upgraded equipment, and a personal touch with a vintage Polaroid to top it off – definitely Tim's job.

Yet you couldn't help but be thankful for those, given Dick's situation; shirts that were literally merchandise about his butt, an eye mask for power naps, and a ‘big brother manual’ book. “Whose idea was this?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in mock annoyance, a small smile brightening his fine features.

“That's a brilliant idea, Dick.” Jason chimed in, not bothering to hide his usual smug smirk. It was definitely him who thought of that combination as a good Christmas gift for his older brother.

Meanwhile, Barbara wasn't having it easy either, with the present in her hands containing a vintage phone and a custom Lego set of Oracle. “A Nokia? Really?” She asked, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she turned to face Steph. “You're lucky I like Lego sets, but you're stuck in this with me.” Barb threatened playfully as she set the box by her side.

Stephanie raised her hands in the air in mock surrender, she didn't seem to mind the idea of building a custom Lego set in the company of Barbara; in fact, it was a good opportunity to spend a girl's night along with you and Cass while having a chit chat – or gossiping. “It's for emergencies. And the Lego set was cute.” She explained with a shrug.

“Fine. You'll see how cute it is when you have to build this many pieces.” Barb protested, her tone lacking real bite as she pointed back at the amount of pieces written on the box. “You're all invited to our suffering.” She commented jokingly, glancing at you and Cass.

Cass perked up at the idea, “I'll bring the snacks.” She said simply, her voice soothing as ever even as it held a bit of enthusiasm as she gave Barbara a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Dick was flipping through the pages of the manual and hastily reading the contents before he could comment on them. “Who wrote this?” He scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, and continued reading. “...’Always take responsibility for your siblings' mess-ups.’ Really, Jason?”

Jason leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as an amused huff escaped him. “Merry Christmas, Dick.”

Tim studied the merch, trying his best to bite back his laughter at what his eyes met while Duke observed alongside Damian, who decided to address the situation accordingly. “That was uncalled for, even by your appallingly low standards, Todd.”

Dick sighed and shook his head once more, yet he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he couldn't help but find the situation entertaining. “You're so getting payback next year. And I'm rigging the draw.” He stated as he tried on his nap mask with a proud smirk.

Bruce, sitting quietly by the fireplace with Alfred whom he had exchanged gifts with, took another sip of his coffee and sighed, allowing himself a small chuckle as he watched the banter unfold. He was prouder than he'd care to admit, of everyone in the room.

“Everyone, pause.” You interrupted every party in the room as you took hold of your brand-new Polaroid and held it out for a selfie, trying to make sure everyone was in the frame. “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’.” You exclaimed with pure excitement and messily snapped a picture, holding the moment forever captive.

– a/n; Merry Christmas and happy holidays in general ♡

[jvsont0dd]

Jason Todd dies so often that he might as well be a Winchester

[brie-annwyl]

Fic idea things <3

Jason coming back to get revenge and seeing Bruce at his grave, talking to his headstone saying things like “you have a wonderful new brother, his name is Tim. I think you would’ve loved him.” And “Never tell Dick, but you were and probably always will be my favourite, Jay.” And Jason realizes oh fuck, I’m not ready for this emotional moment and I don’t even want revenge anymore. So he just continues to be Red Hood and sticks to crime alley until the Bats (Bruce, Tim, Dick, etc) get kidnapped and he’s like, oh fuck, now I HAVE to deal with this emotional bs.

Bruce just immediately hugging Jason after he finds out his identity. Even if it’s dangerous for him to do so (Jason pointing a gun at him).

Jason’s reason for wanting to kill the Joker having nothing to do with revenge, the reality of the situation is Jason has borderline debilitating insomnia because he’s so terrified he’ll wake up back in that warehouse or the Joker will find him whilst he’s asleep.

Bruce originally not wanting Tim as his new Robin because he reminded him so much of Jason. To the point where he caught himself almost calling him Jason on multiple occasions. That’s why it took so long for them to be close.

Dick accidentally calling Tim - Jason after Jason beats the shit out of him.

Jason and Tim knowing each other before Jason dies. Jason knew Tim’s parents weren’t caring for him properly and wanted Bruce to adopt him but he didn’t get the chance to tell Bruce about Tim when he was alive.

Jason getting dosed in fear toxin and getting hallucinations of Willis whilst the other bats are around.

Bruce getting dosed in fear toxin and hallucinates burying Jason again.

Jason is always freezing bc of the whole dying thing and needs other people to keep warm, but Jason’s a stubborn bitch and it’s the middle of winter.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

I'm here (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Kissing.

Word Count: 2.7k

Song Rec: I love you, I'm sorry by Gracie Abrams

It was hard to enjoy the cold when Jason was surrounded by the uncomfortable heat of tailpipes and exhaust vents and the bustle of Gothamites around him. He could feel himself break out into a sweat even though he was on the roof of a building, where he had been for the last twenty minutes.

He had taken off his helmet, preferring to keep only his domino on but even then, he felt like he couldn't breathe easy. He could easily blame the city's shitty climate but deep down he knew the reason was across the street from him.

He watched as the lights flicked on; his view obstructed due to the frosted glass that he had begged you to put up. You hated closing the curtains because you felt it made your already small apartment even smaller and he hated the fact that anyone across the street could catch a glimpse into your home.

He could really see the irony in that now as he wished for a better view of your face.

But even without it, he could clearly envision you coming home from a long day, dumping your bag at the door, and kicking off your shoes, refusing to kick off your socks in the same way and instead tossing them into the hamper. Dirty socks were your pet peeve, one that he learnt extremely early into the relationship.

However, you also refused for him to wear shoes in your home, and he hated being barefooted, so you compromised and got him a couple spare socks and a pair of slippers. He wondered if they were still there in the lowest drawer of your shoe cabinet.

You'd immediately sit on the ground to rest your legs after walking four blocks from the subway station instead of a chair because you didn't want your 'outside clothes' to touch your clean furniture.

A melancholic smile spread across Jason's lips as something beautiful, yet painful began to coil around his chest. He loved that he could still remember every single thing about you. It was those little features; the way you'd always forget your towel in the dryer while taking a shower and begging Jason to bring it to you, the tiny welt in the corner on your lips that you got from biting them til they'd bleed, that lock of hair at the back of your head that was a different texture than the rest. It was those that would bring him back to Earth whenever the green of the pit seemed to blind him.

The lines of your body were the only thing he envisioned when he closed his eyes, the mellifluous flow of your voice threading through his eardrums whenever he had any quiet, the heat of your phantom fingertips tracing up his arms and wrapping around his waist as he laid alone in bed.

You haunted him, your memories tormented him, and he wondered if you were in the same boat as him, simply existing but not living. He wondered how you would feel if you heard the deep baritone of his voice now that he's grown into a man, or the heat from his chest when he enveloped your now much smaller form in his arms.

He wondered if you were wondering about him. He wondered if you were lying alone like him or had his side of the bed already been claimed by somebody else. Someone who was smarter and sweeter and better.

The pragmatic side of him told him that he should be happy if you managed to find another. Afterall, he loved you so much if you asked him to carve out his own breaking heart and place it in your palms, he would, if only to see the smile on your face. So, he should be happy if you were happy.

However, rest of him banged against his ribcage with bloody fists, begging for it not to be true.

He scolded himself while his feet mindlessly took him to your apartment building, and he was left staring at the frosted glass of your window.

He knew it would end up this way, he just knew it. When he had first come out from the Lazarus pit, he was adamant not to meet you again, convinced that you would be better off without him.

Then he kept thinking about you and he concluded that he'd only see you once, if only to see that you were doing well and taking care of yourself. And then he'd never tempt himself again.

And then he promised himself he'd only watch you from afar, desperately trying to catch glances of you like a parched man would savour the smallest drop of water.

Then he got even greedier. His heart tugged him so hard that he almost fell off the roof in his haste to grapple across the street and climb down the fire escape til your apartment building.

He promised himself this would be the last. He would stop here. He would only listen to your voice while a wall separated the both of you. He would stop there.

Jason listened to you sing while you washed the dishes, your voice only fading to a dull hum through the wall and his brows furrowed, leaning his forehead against it as he tried to catch every wave of your voice.

Then eventually it was silent, and he stared at his feet for a couple seconds before sighing and beginning to stand.

He didn't know why he continued to come see you. Every time the fleeting glance of you passed, he was left feeling an empty chasm that seemed to drag his stomach into a blackhole. He was unable to get out of bed the next day, despaired by the fact that you were able to go about your day while he was stuck in his own hell.

So, why did he continue to do it? Why did he feel your absence like critters crawling all over his skin and only feeling a semblance of relief when he knows that he's near you? Why can he only feel better when he feels his heart pounding in his chest when he thinks that at any moment you could accidentally spot him where he was hiding even though he'd be constantly disappointed? And yet, he still hoped you'd spot him again.

He'd hear the lights click shut any second now before you crawled into bed, falling asleep while clutching your phone and scrolling through Instagram.

He was always disheartened at the end of these nights, when he realized that he was the only one lingering outside in the cold as he waited for you to notice him, to long for him. But yet again, you managed to get through another day without losing yourself in your grief, unlike him.

Was it really that easy for you to get over him? He was standing outside your apartment, wishing to go back to the nights where you used to invite him in with open arms while you remained oblivious to how much he missed you.

He turned his back to leave when he heard a click and then a noisy squeak of the hinges as you pushed the window open.

Your wide eyes met his stormy blue and you froze.

"Hey, beautiful."

There was a beat of silence between the two of you that was filled with the sounds of Gotham and you continued to stare at him, shocked into a stupor. Finally, it seemed like you were able to knock your consciousness back into your body and you squeezed your eyes shut and began counting backward from ten.

"He’s not really here, (Y/N). Jason is gone. You were there at the funeral. You watched them lower his body into his grave, (Y/N). He's gone. And he's not coming back."

Jason watched your throat bob like a lone acorn down a tempestuous river and you squeezed your eyes shut tighter, flared nostrils telling him that you were on the verge of tears. Your fingers curled into a tight grip that had your knuckles turning a shade lighter.

Now he knew why he was so anxious about seeing you again. Why, when one foot had taken a step toward you, the other remained anchored to his spot until you walked past him. While he was worried that you had moved on from him, he was even more terrified to see the effect that his death had on you.

When he came back to Gotham and he realized that he had been erased and replaced by Bruce, it was only easy for him to think you had done the same thing. It was easier for him to think he had been abandoned by the entire world. But he was always scared to find out if he was right, so he kept his distance.

However, he was even more scared to find out that you had been left missing him because of a stupid mistake he had made as a child when you had begged him not to. You had known he was beginning to go off the rails, that he was getting rebellious, and you had begged him not to do anything rash.

He had just taken it as a sign that you didn't believe in him either, that you were just like the others, and he had sought to prove you wrong. He laid on the blood of the warehouse, beaten bloody and waiting for his father to rescue him and wishing that you wouldn't be too despaired by his immature stupidity.

Now watching you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, as if trying to erase what you had just seen, he felt guilty for putting you in that position. He shouldn't be here, he shouldn't have left, he shouldn't have loved you in the first place.

Still, he couldn't move.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, blinking a couple times at the ground before you could raise your head again.

Your shoulders slumped and your eyes began to fill with tears, "That usually works."

"(Y/N)," he whispered, reaching for you put his fingertips stopped right before crossing your windowsill as though there was a physical barrier stopping him from touching you. His hand trembled in the air before he dropped it to his side, "It’s me."

This was something he had been dreaming of every night since coming back. He dreamed of reuniting with you, of touching you again, of loving you again. But now that the opportunity was an inch away from him, he was worried that his last chance at love had died within the flames of the warehouse that night.

You stayed still, eyes flickering over him, starting with the mop of dark curls on the top of his head and raking down his face, the same features you remembered had grown more masculine. You lingered on the different scars littering his skin, analysing every inch of him with concentration that made him want to shuffle uneasily.

Your expression began to melt into uncertainty and longing the more you continued to stare at him before you suddenly gasped and stepped back, "You’re crazy, (Y/N). He's gone, this isn't really happening."

He grasped the window just as you began to close it shut, "Please, don't. I’m here, baby, I’m really here."

You stared at the hand holding your window open with furrowed brows; you hadn't expected this illusion to retaliate against you trying to end this dream.

You never opened the windows of your apartment, especially not at night. You never wanted to invite Gotham’s smog inside your home but for some reason tonight your heart had tugged you toward it with such power you thought a breath of fresh air would have done you some good.

Why? Why tonight of all nights had you opened the window? Had you even opened the window in the first place? Or had this been a cruel game played by your mind while you were asleep?

"You died," you whispered, voice barely above a decibel, "I saw you dead. You aren't really here. This doesn't make any sense."

You wanted to touch him, you wanted to feel his beating heart underneath your fingertips but you knew that he would evaporate into smoke the second you reached for him like all the other times and even though you knew you would breakdown the second you woke up from the dream, you wanted to continue looking at him and drink in his presence that you had missed so much.

Gloved fingers lifted your chin so your wet eyes could meet his and tears began streaming down your cheeks in thick rivulets, your chest collapsing from the weight of your sobs.

"I know it doesn't make any sense, but I’m here. I’m really here. And I’ve missed you so much."

You shook your head, "You’re not. You're dead."

His arms circled around you, and he brought you into a hug. Your cheek rested against the kevlar of his suit, hips digging into the windowsill as you continued to sob and despite knowing that he wasn't really here, your chest began to fill with warmth.

"I’m here, (Y/N)."

Jason stole what little breath you had left in your lungs when he leant down to capture your lips in a firm kiss, as if trying to prove to you that he was here in the flesh, with fresh blood pumping through his veins.

You sobbed against his lips and licked into his mouth, hands coming up to grasp at his hair while his own curved your back into him, melding your bodies into one.

Heavy boots thumped against your floors, knees knocking in his effort to climb through the window and shut it behind him before pressing you against it. He quickly threw off his utility belt before you had wrapped your legs around his waist to prevent any of his weapons accidentally hurting you.

You cupped his jaw, thumb brushing against the peak of his cheekbone. The action had Jason’s eyes rolling back in ecstasy, every single touch setting his body on fire, each nerve ending sparking with electricity. He kissed you harder, refusing to pull away even though he knew you were getting breathless. He could hear your gasps for air every time you parted but you still dragged him back toward you with a hand clutching the roots of his hair.

He couldn't stop, wanting to lose himself in your very soul. He could feel the heat of your body pressing against him, he could smell the familiar scent of your shampoo, his ears were filled with the sound of your sighs and your lips smacking, his tongue tasted the salt of your tears mixed with the sharp chill of spearmint tea.

He finally pulled away when you had placed a hand on his chest, pressing his forehead against you, watching with intense passion as you tried to catch your breath, his grip on your thighs not loosening.

You trailed wet lips down his throat, listening to his quiet sighs until your lips reached his jugular. You could feel his veins pulse with life underneath your lips and your chest began pounding, butterflies beginning to erupt through you.

"You’re really here? You're alive? H-how is that even possible?"

Jason nodded, only realizing then that his eyes were filling up with tears, lashes and cheeks wet once you had begun to stroke the skin beneath his ear.

"I missed you so much." you confessed, voice breaking and brows furrowing in despair.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn't come sooner, I should've-I should've come sooner. I’m sorry." he whispered, trailing his lips along your shoulder, hiding his face into the crook of your neck and you sighed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

"You’re here," you whispered, chest shaking with a mix of sobs and elated giggles, "You're really here. You're finally here."

You both remained there, your back pressed against the frosted glass window that had fogged up slightly, legs wrapped tightly around his waist, chests pressed together.

"I’m here."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

[ellavdrea]

if you‘re reading this, take a moment to stop scrolling and click this to help this person from a devastating event. don‘t be selfish.

[awhoreintheory]

okay so MCU canon Peter in DC is all funny and games but what about comic canon Peter? Peter who’s in his 30s, whose life is falling apart(again) and has clones to deal with(man I hate the fact that Ben became evil :(.)

extra points if Miles and/or Mayday is with him. This single dad is STRUGGLING. And the bats wanna help him/his kids cause man! Look at them :(

(extra extra points if Dick = Richard Parker. That’s a whole nother can of worms. Like the bats are thinking Peter = Family of Dick they didn’t know but NO! It’s actually Dick’s son! Dicks a granddad!)

I want to PSA to anyone sending asks/requests, I'm not ignoring you!! I'm just a slow writer!!! I hope you enjoy though <33

Peter B. Parker could, 100%, picture landing in (yet another) alternate universe. You know what? As a matter of fact, he expected it.

What he didn’t plan for, however, was being stranded in another universe with his baby girl strapped to his chest. 

But here he was, crouched in a narrow alley in the darkest corner of Gotham City, New Jersey. From the name alone, Peter knew he landed himself in a section of the Multiverse Miguel had expressly labeled as off limits. It wasn’t his fault he’d landed here, though!

One minute he’d been web-swinging through New York, enjoying a rare peaceful day with Mayday babbling happily, and the next he was crash-landing onto a grimy rooftop in the most dangerous city he’d ever seen. It was like New York turned up to eleven, all shadows and towering gargoyles, dripping with rain that seemed perpetual. The interdimensional bracelet he’d been given to travel the multiverse was sparking and smoking in his pocket— total toast. He was officially stranded. 

Ok, so it maybe, kinda sorta, been an eensy weensy, tiny bit Peter’s fault. 

Peter’s, very high-tech and likely expensive bracelet had been, uh, scratched in a fight the day before. Barely even a nick! He swears he could’ve reattached the wires and fixed the screen. 

He probably should’ve also taken the watch out of his robe pocket before he started swinging Mayday to daycare. 

MJ was going to be so mad. 

It became evident early on it’d take a little bit to find a way home, or for someone to find him. If it had just been Peter, he could’ve roughed it on some rooves and abandoned buildings. It wouldn’t be a big deal, he knew he would be getting home eventually. Being a little smelly was the least of his worries. 

But he had his baby girl with him. 

So, with the money in his wallet, he found an under-the-counter, rundown but otherwise warm, apartment in a place called Crime Alley. (What a seriously terrible name) Peter started pulling together whatever side gigs he could, fixing appliances, tuning up electronics, just enough to get by. Even for a guy who was used to scraping by, the situation felt bleak, especially with Mayday depending on him. 

His little red-headed whirlwind was still too young to understand what was happening, but she noticed the tension and started clinging to him more tightly. Peter knew he couldn’t keep this up forever, but he wasn’t sure how to trust anyone in a city that had both criminals and vigilantes lurking around every corner. When he spotted someone in a cape swinging overhead, he instinctively hid in the shadows, holding Mayday close, her tiny face tucked into his shoulder.

But the Bats noticed him. 

It was hard not to notice a single dad with no records, no job, and no explanation for why he was squatting in Gotham’s most dangerous neighborhood. Bruce, ever vigilant, put out word to the family to keep an eye on him. 

Jason, who patrolled Crime Alley, wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “A guy moved into my turf with a baby?” he grumbled to Tim. “Either he’s got a death wish, or he’s crazy.” 

Tim, on the other hand, was fascinated by the mystery. He dug through every database he had access to, and then some. But “Peter Parker” returned zero results— at least, none that matched this Peter Parker. no criminal record, no birth record, no online footprint. It was like he just spawned in! 

Dick didn’t have a whole lot of opinions. He thought the man was nice, though he had only met him once in a routine mugging. He evidently cared for his daughter, and matched Nightwing’s wit and humor pretty nicely, too. He looked annoyingly familiar too. Maybe it was Tired Dad Chic? He kind of reminded him of Bruce, in a way. 

Steph seconded the funny part. This Peter guy could be one of those dark-humor comedians. 

From what they observed, and conversations supplied by Jason (who was his neighbor in a series of fortunate events), Peter really did seem to just be an ordinary guy.  

Then one night, Peter was picking up groceries from a corner store when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find a man in a ski mask brandishing a knife, gesturing for his wallet. 

“Hand over the money, and I won’ hurt ya’ kid.” The man threatened, waving his knife around threateningly. Peter tensed, dropping his groceries in favor of cradling Mayday closer. 

Peter blinked at him tiredly. “The best I can offer is some lint and a can of beans.” 

The man tensed, stepping closer in an attempt at intimidation. Peter thought that his face turning red with anger was kind of funny.

“Don’t fuckin’— are you makin’ fun of me?” The man fumed. Peter might have let out a sleep-deprived chuckle, partially forgetting to respond. 

The mugger lunged, and before he could dodge, Peter felt a searing pain in his side as the blade plunged in, his vision blurring with the shock. Normally, Peter would’ve disarmed the guy without breaking a sweat, but tonight, with Mayday in his arms and his body worn from days of restless sleep, he kind of just… blinked and the knife was there. 

Peter blinked again, then looked back up at the man.

“Oh, wow,” he said, his voice dripping with deadpan sarcasm. “A knife in Crime Alley? Super original. Really, I’m honored to be a part of your creative process.”

The mugger blinked, clearly caught off guard. Peter rolled his eyes, adjusting Mayday to better apply pressure to his side. “Next time you stab a guy, maybe aim for someone with insurance.”

The mugger stumbled back, looking increasingly confused by Peter’s lack of fear. Peter sighed, bouncing Mayday gently as she began to fuss. “Listen, I’m already running on no sleep and the caffeine fumes of yesterday’s coffee. And now you’re just making my night even worse.”

Peter winced, feeling the slow but consistent leak of blood. His healing factor was helping, but it was dulled due to lack of sleep and hunger. 

Between one long blink and the next, someone had jumped down and knocked out Peter’s would-be mugger. 

After another blink Peter realized he was on the ground, Mayday’s wails filled the air, her cries echoing down the alleyway, and Peter tried to smile through the pain. “It’s okay, baby,” he mumbled, clutching her tightly. “Daddy’s fine… just a little… scratch.” But his vision was going hazy as he pressed a hand to his bleeding side. The world began to spin.

One of the vigilantes that Peter recognized as Red Robin rushed over, talking hurriedly into a comm. Peter blinked up at him, his mouth curling into a weak smile. “Hey, nice costume,” he muttered. “Does the utility belt come in dad sizes?” 

Red Robin blinked in surprise, but otherwise keept his focus as he worked to stop the bleeding.

“It doesn’t, unfortunately.” Red Robin offered, popping open his emergency med kit. “I’ve got help on the way, ok? Stay awake for me.” But his attention was snagged when Mayday, overcome with distress, reached out to him, her tiny hands gripping his arm. She wasn’t just clutching it— she was sticking to him, her fingers locked like suction cups on his suit. Tim’s eyes widened as she scrambled up his arm, scaling it like a bug on a wall. 

Red Robin took it in stride, scooping Mayday up as he continued to work. Peter had been on the Meta radar for a bit— a few things here and there just a little off, and it was mostly based on Red Robin’s time spent with super-powered individuals. 

But as he patched up Peter, he discreetly swiped a sample of blood, stashing it in his belt just as the Batmobile pulled up. 

—

Later that night, he ran the sample through the Batcomputer, expecting some small lead. A Meta, possibly insect-based? What with how the kid had stuck to him. Instead, the results left Tim absolutely speechless. 

Peter Parker, the man who was in his early 40s and a single father, didn’t just match someone in the system— it matched Dick Grayson.

Not as a brother, or a cousin, but as a son. 

Tim must’ve ran the test at least 100 times. It came back the same every single time. 

Tim called Bruce and the rest of the family, each of them crowding around the screen with varying levels of shock and amusement as the analysis rolled in. Dick was dumbfounded, staring at the results in disbelief. 

“You’re telling me this guy is my… son?” he stammered, struggling to wrap his mind around it. 

Bruce, socially unaware in all his glory, tried to comfort Dick. “He’s likely from far into the future. Barry said there was a ripple in the timestream around the time Peter showed up.” 

“So what does that make Mayday?” Jason asked, snickering. 

“His granddaughter?” Steph said with a teasing grin. 

“Wow, Dick. You went from a dad to a grandpa in the same minute.” 

“That’s gotta be a world record.”

“You think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his temples as Jason laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“He’s from the future, right? Something must’ve gone wrong on his end," Tim said, folding his arms with a thoughtful look. "He’s definitely got the skills. Moves like you, Dick. It's obvious he's had training.”

Dick couldn't help but smirk, puffing up a little with pride. “Of course he does. He’s got Grayson blood in him, after all.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, because the whole ‘falling on his face with a baby strapped to him’ bit? So graceful.”

Tim rolled his eyes, trying to stay on track. “Look, I don’t know why he didn’t come to us for help in the first place, but the point is, he’s family. We should get him back to his time, if that’s even possible.” He looked over to Bruce. “Are any speedsters available? Maybe the League could lend us Wally or Barry—"

“Hold on,” Dick interrupted, frowning. “I’m not sure we’re ready to ship him off just yet. The guy’s been trying to make it on his own. He’s got a baby to look after, and I think he’s afraid of dragging us into whatever’s going on with him. You know this family and their pride.”

Damian, who had been silent up to this point, finally piped up, his arms crossed. “I’ve seen him with the baby. She’s… persistent.” There was an almost begrudging respect in his tone. “But he clearly doesn’t have the resources to keep her safe here. If he did, he wouldn’t be living in Crime Alley.”

Dick nodded. “Exactly. The guy’s holding it together with duct tape and dad jokes. We can help him and get him back on his feet while we figure out a way home.”

Bruce, listening intently, finally spoke up. “He’s right. Until we find a way to get him home, Peter and his daughter stay here. We’ll pull together whatever resources we can to help them both.” 

Steph and Tim shared a look. He just wanted to meet his grandson and great-granddaughter. 

There was a beat of silence as everyone absorbed the decision, and then Tim looked at Dick, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So… you ready to be a dad, Dick?”

Dick flushed, looking a mix of horrified and pleased. “I’ll just stick to ‘Uncle Dick’ for now. Baby steps.”

EXTRA:

“Hey,” Jason drawled, barely suppressing a smirk as he looked over at Dick, “you think we can submit this for a Guinness World Record? Fastest unplanned parenthood, or maybe most confusing family reunion?”

Dick rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide his grin. “Very funny, Jay. Maybe we can submit you for most inappropriate comments per minute.”

Jason chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Just saying, man, it’s impressive. One day you’re Nightwing, lone acrobat extraordinaire, and the next? Boom— you’re the proud father of a scruffy, interdimensional— what'd you say it was, Tim? Spider-dad? A Spider-dad.”

Tim snickered, glancing up from his laptop. “We’re all just living in a 'Strangest Family Reunion’ reality show at this point. Besides, if anyone’s submitting to Guinness, it should be Peter for most relentless optimism under terrible circumstances.”

Bruce cleared his throat, giving them all a look. “Enough. This isn’t a joke. We have a situation to handle here.”

Dick, still grinning, turned back to Bruce. “All right, fine, we’ll save the record-breaking for later. Right now, I say we start by finding this guy and getting him some real help.”

[dontbesoweirdkira]

How would Platonic! Yan! Batfamily react to Reader with Narcolepsy?

A/N:Thank you for requesting. I hope I did okay with this, please respectfully correct me if I got anything wrong or unintentionally offensive with this as I do not suffer from narcolepsy.

Warnings: Toxic and abusive family dynamics, infantalization, medication tampering, worsening issues

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Oh my gosh that would be the worse thing to deal with in a Yan! family. Especially with one as affectionate as them.

Can you imagine trying to avoid Dick or Tim but just falling right asleep in their arms from the stress...then when you wake up moments later, they aren't allowing you to leave their grasp...oh how terrifying that'd be.

Anyways, they are rather attentive to your needs and observant. If one of the siblings notice that you are showing signs that you will abruptly collapse, they will rush over and quickly guide you to a safe area where you can rest.

The family is very strict on not giving you certain tasks that may be hard on your body. Especially if you deal with cataplexy. If you need help with moving something, or completing a task, just ask someone. They will be very upset if you get yourself hurt.

The down side of not having great muscle control or overall weakness is the constant babying. They treat you as if you were made out of glass. It can be quite annoying when you need to strengthen your muscles even if it's very difficult for you. They also might enjoy keeping you weak and vulnerable because you have less of a chance to escape and no real ability to fight back. You are far to precious to not be in their care.

Your family is strict about not allowing you to hang out with friends and staying only in the home. Occasionally they'll allow you to have a supervised visit. They even may force you to take up schooling at home and you're not allowed to work. It's all far too dangerous when they aren't near to assist you. You cannot trust anyone outside of them.

If you suffer with hallucinations, whether that may be audio or visual, they will be very understanding. You aren't the only one in the family to suffer with symptoms like such. Many days Jason and Bruce are struggling with those things. I can't imagine anyone would poke fun, they'd just redirect you.

But his can kind of suck given that sometimes you cannot tell if something that happened was real or not. Your family may say that you were just having a hallucination but you swear that you heard them talking about tampering with your meds.

Speaking of such, they most definitely do. The medicine that is supposed to help with your EDS seems to have the opposite effect on you. Some days it seems like you've been sleeping for weeks. You swore that you feel asleep in the living room...why are you now in an entirely different sect of the mansion..???

If you suffer with memory issues, that will be a huge problem because so many things they get away with or manipulate you about and because you have no recollection of any events..you are just forced to go with it, even if your gut says something is wrong.

Sometimes the family can get a bit worried if you are up all night..they worry you might wonder off or get hurt while they are either on patrol or sleeping so one designated person must be up with you at all times.

Even when you're sleeping. Someone is monitoring you and your health. Usually Alfred or one of the siblings if they are free.

Often Tim will take the shift since he is usually home and doing work anyways. Too many times have you randomly woken up in his dark room with him in the corner watching you.

Your constant fatigue is an excuse your siblings may use to just carry you around without your consent. Yes, you were struggling up the stairs. but no. you didn't really want Dick to just come and pick you up and carry you around the house like a pet. It's worse when it's Jason because he throws you over his shoulder...he's working on it.

Alfred has a specialty diet for you, which kind of sucks sometimes when the others are eating your favorites. But it's for the best he tells you. It's supposed to help with your symptoms but...every time you eat his cooking, you just feel sick then super drowsy..Alfred says it's the adjustment period to the new diet..but you can't shake the feeling that the food is worsening your conditions

[teddypines]

Fight

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Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

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“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”

[robintherobiner]

@emperorsfoot made me come up with a really funny idea. (sorry about the tag i can get rid of it if you want :3 )

AU where Tim sees Bruce not dealing with his grief very well after losing Jason, so he googles ways to calm down, and instead of heading to the manor and telling Bruce he needs a Robin, Tim just hands him a joint.

"You to chill the fuck out, Bruce. Batman is supposed to be Gothams protector, you can't do that if you're beating up criminals to the point of permanent injuries for an offence as little as stealing food. So, take a chill pill. Or, actually. i didn't get you any pills but i can if you want-"

Boom. Instead of gaining another Robin, Batman gains a dealer, who doesn't accept cash, but instead counts 'nights without brutal beatings' as payment.

Within three months time, Tim is fully leaning into the act and uses 90's movies as his point of reference for how drug dealers should look, sound, and act. Goodbye Bristol Boy, meet T-Dawg.