#Dc one shot

[justanoasisimagines]

Being in a relationship with Oswald

Hey my lovelies, this man still has a vice on me and I'm not complianing. Anyway, my requests are open for everything except fics. You can find my request guidelines pinned to the top of top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Oswald is an old-school type of gentleman. He's going to spoil you rotten. He's going to buy you gifts. He's going to be the proudest man to have you on his arm. You're never going to have to open a door or pull out a chair again. Not while he's around.

❀Oswald loves to buy you clothes. He especially loves to see you wearing purple. His color. He loves seeing you in the dress he's brought for you or the pair of jeans that fit your body just right. Oswald doesn't hide it, he enjoys looking at you, you're his goddess.

❀Oswald is always giving you compliments. He wants to boost you up on the days you're not feeling yourself. Something he wishes people did for him, but he won't it happen to you.

❀Oswald is possessive. He doesn't like anyone touching or looking at you. He's quick to remind people that you belong to him as he does you. He has no problem getting rid of people if they invade that boundary.

❀Oswald has a jealousy issue. It comes from an insecurity, he doesn't believe he's good enough so therefore he's terrified of losing you. Oswald will react before he thinks about certain situations. Sometimes he can't see the innocence in situations before he reacts. He just doesn't want to lose you.

❀Oswald uses nicknames Doll, Sweetheart, Beautiful, Angel, etc.

❀Oswald wants you to know he can look after you, and provide for you. He doesn't want you to feel like you have to work to the bone. If you want to work that's fine and he'll support it but he doesn't want to make you. If you needed a job, he'd find one down at the club for you.

❀Oswald is going to bring flowers and chocolates for you at the start of every date. He's always dressed smartly and takes pride in his appearance. Especially when you're with him. He wants you to be proud to be on his arm.

❀It takes Oswald a while to feel comfortable enough to take off his shoes and socks in front of you. He knows the sight isn't pretty and he can't blame you if you're disgusted by it. He is.

❀Having to remind Oswald to rest. You've seen firsthand how much pain he's in with his foot. He comes to you sometimes in agony, proclaiming he's fine but you know he's not. Although he won't vocalize it, he's grateful and flattered you care. He never puts up a fuss when you tell him to sit down.

❀Oswald introducing you to his mother is a big deal. You two would be together for at least a year before he thinks about inviting you over to meet her. It's a huge milestone for Oswald, he loves his mother. She's the only family he has left, so he desperately wants her approval.

❀Oswald is prepared to kill for you. You bring out a desire to protect you amongst all else. He doesn't care who it is or why. If he needs to he will protect you at all costs.

[oneshots-heaven]

THE MOTEL ROOM — "The Begin"

Since the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives who yet want the same out of life. Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses—but it all ends in the same motel room. 

And it all began with the day you two met...

Warning: NSFW — explicit violence, cursing, mentions of injuries/killing in detail, mentioned co-dependence (mentor/mentee), bit angsty fluff Pre-Titans — Dick Grayson x Reader

Your knee hit with force right in the groin of the men attacking you, kneeling him down in one swing. Fear widened the eyes of his partners, yet they stood their ground. As much as they wished to simply give in to their fear, they all had given their boss a vow that did not allow them to do so. Eyes glistening, you smiled grimly, recking your chin up as you signaled them to come right at you. 

No matter how much you made them shit their pants, they were still men with their full blown ego. Every second they showed their fear of a girl, it felt like poison to them and they hated it. 

A roaring sound filled the badly lit alley as the first men stepped forward, wielding his fists at you. Ducking it easily, you had already grabbed his arm, twisting it harshly. The others came at you, trying to help their poor fellow. While their hatred fueled their actions, yours were fueled by the euphoric sound of their pain, pushing the adrenaline in your body as it worked its will.

Two of them hang onto your arms, holding them back as tightly as they possibly could, to give the third one a free way to fight you off. What a brutal mistake they’d made. 

Just as they can close off to hurt you, you smashed your head hard enough against his nose. Crying out loud, he tumbled back, raising his arms to his bleeding nose. The only concern he could suddenly concentrate on. Using all the muscle strength you had in your core, you pulled the men down with you. Only difference was that unlike them, you rolled yourself gracefully over your shoulder, leaving them on the ground. 

They would struggle for a longer while. 

Leaving them behind in the alley, you started to run over to the old brick factory where all the chaos came from. Fucking hell, this hadn’t been how your mentor and you had pictured this entire situation to go down, but standing here and crying about it wouldn’t change it now either. As for now, the knowing that your mentor probably had the situation handled was the only relief. 

Running into the factory, you tried to catch up with her, but soon realized you ran into much more trouble than you had imagined. The small group of the Duke’s men outside now resembled a foreplay, while what happened in front of your eyes was the true battle ground, and it didn’t take long until you were noticed. 

“Looks like the cat has let out her kitten,“ one laughed, pulling all the attention to where his gaze was glued—you. 

The men came storming toward you, you only had the briefest of a moment to overlook the situation. Not enough to try and check how your mentor was doing. 

Drawing out your knives from your thigh halter, you greeted the fight with a vicious grin. Once there may had been a time where you had used to hold back, but you couldn’t remember any of it. Those days were long over and given by their blind reaction, they all underestimated you and they would be sorry for it. The first hit felt freeing, like a calling to a greater power. This was what you were born for, trained to master and dared to live. 

Their throaty groans and roars echoed in your ears as your knives struck into some of the weakest points of their bodies, their soft skin lushly craving in, standing no chance against your quick movements. Until they got ahead of themselves, one dared to grab after one of your knives, walking into open fire as it dived deep through his arm, blood splashing right in your face. 

Fuck this shit.

Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you. Putting down the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory. 

Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.

“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out. 

A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.

“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question. 

His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter. 

His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“ 

Much worse than the shot was the sudden astonishing sound of an explosion that shook the walls of the entire factory, filling it with fire, broken glass and rubble that spread everywhere. Within one swift movement, the stranger had swung his cape over your bodies shielding you both from the massive heat wave and shatter that rolled over you. Your ribcage was moving heavily against his firm one as you found yourself held securely in his arms.

“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.“ 

“I won’t.“ he assured you bitterly.

The stranger pulled back his cape, revealing the destruction that had just occurred. Your body trembled next to his, feeling his assuring warmth leaving you. Although fear had become a foreign feeling to you, it always found a way to creep back up on you. It had been long since you had last seen your mentor and this was going far out of control. You couldn’t trust the blindness of trust anymore—you had to make sure she was fine. 

Without another word to the stranger, you headed straight toward the destruction, knowing something or someone had caused it and that your mentor couldn’t be far from it. Gun shots, followed by unfamiliar yells came right from the direction of the towering rubble. The explosion had wrecked down almost an entire wall, flooding the factory with the construction lights from outside. 

Chaos was erupting wherever she looked, drowning any of her thoughts with the sounds of gun shots and cries. Swinging out of nowhere onto the facade scaffolding, your mentor came into your sight, followed by a darker, taller figure. One that she never officially introduced you to, yet always talked about—it was Batman. Indulging in the fight happening around them, they were fighting side by side.

“Guess you’re right. We do fight for the same side.“ you murmured, noticing how the stranger had caught up to you.

The calm before the storm lasted for the briefest of moments. Much like your mentor, the stranger suddenly whipped backwards out of nowhere, and within one bones-cracking movement, he had brought down a man, stomping brutally on his hand to force him to let go of the knife he wanted to attack you with. His yells drove deep through your bones, vexing you in the best way possible. 

Glancing from the man to the stranger, you had so much to say but no words came out. 

“Then you better show me what you’ve got.“ he challenged you, nodding to the incoming trouble rushing toward you. You heard his knuckles crack, balling his fists as you drew out your knives, ready to take on any fight if it meant to keep your and might as well his mentor’s back free. 

As the group of Duke’s misfits came closer to you, you immediately recognized their change of weaponry—for the worse, as they had exchanged the usual guns to the Duke’s specialized ones. 

“Don’t get hit,“ you warned, knowing the greater danger of the Duke’s bullets.  

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.“ 

Furiously you turned around, sending him a glare for that pet name. He was cocky, overall too confident to be this cool through a fight that could potentially end his life, and it frustrated you to the maximum. This wasn’t some sort of game, no matter how much he tried to turn it that way. Neither of you wouldn’t make it out without any hurt if you didn’t watch out. He, however, recked his chin up, as if he was daring death by any chance to come by. 

Combat was nothing compared to a gun, it would always defy the other, but you were quick—quicker than them with their guns. The stranger was too, he struck perfectly every single time, bringing down men after men. Shots rang from everywhere, spiraling around you and your opponents, trying your best to keep yourself away from the bullets. 

But no training could make every flaw of one vanish. A high-pitch voice cried out from a far, ringing in your ears, causing you to turn your attention away for the split of a moment. On the rooftop of the factory next door was your mentor with a dark shadow draped over her. Your heartbeat got stuck in your throat, causing you to gasp after air. He would keep her safe, or that was at least what you hoped for. 

A laughter, followed by someone calling out for you, pulled you harshly out of your trance. The shot rung so insanely close by you that you were able to feel the vibration. You tried catching your breath, it had almost scraped your skin. 

No material was able to withstand the Duke’s experimental bullets—they were perfect into its smallest detail and were as deadly as their description. As soon as they entered one’s skin barrier, the bullet would shatter into millions of small pieces, wounding one very little at first, before painfully killing them due to internal bleeding. 

You looked the horror straight in the eye as another shot rung, seeing exactly how the bullet hit the stranger through his suit in the lower abdomen. All color vanished from your face. Within seconds, he crunched in pain, unable to keep up the defense and becoming an easy target for your opponents, but not if he was with you. 

Picking up the blades that you had dropped, you picked up one by one before they’d come to the realization what you were doing. Pushing yourself up on your feet, you threw the first knife, striking straight into the neck of one, and then another. The anger, and mainly worry for the stranger, blinded and caused you to go riot. You had no idea if the bullet had hit him or not, if he was bleeding already, however you couldn’t get to him, not if there were still people attacking you around. 

The last one plunged forward, wrapping his arm around your neck, choking you with his hold. Grabbing onto his arm, you stabilized yourself from his sudden act but were quick to think, ramming your knife the next second in the soft part of his thigh, probably slashing a few veins in the process. His groans echoed in your ears, as you pressed your lips angrily together, ripping it out again, only to wind it down again and again until he let go of you. 

His cries of pain grew louder as you kneeled him in his groin, letting him sack onto his knees. His angered eyes were glued onto you. The only words that escaped his mouth were bad names, but you didn’t care, it would be his last ones. Your knife slashed his throat, ceasing away his voice, having the blood splashing right in your face as you dig your knife deep enough for him to never speak again. 

The voice of your mentor echoed through your head. Ever since the beginning, she had taught you that death was the last option, and although you could have punished that man without killing him, it was what he had deserved. 

Glancing over to the stranger, you instantly banished any further thought of regret out of your head, running over and crashing right down on your knees next to him. His breath whistled through his throat, his chest only heaved with struggle causing your hands to become shaky. He couldn’t die in front of you after just saving your life, this wouldn’t be fair. You took a closer look where the bullet hit, checking for the awful impact, as relief rushed over you. The Duke’s ultimate weapon may not be as unavoidable as he thinks. The bullet had struck deep into the hard shell of his suit, withholding the full impact of it. 

“Thank God,“ you breathed, meeting the stranger’s helpless gaze as you held onto him. 

The unsteady metal platform underneath you vibrated under the jolt as someone—might add elegantly—swung their way onto it. In-between the chaos of it all, your mentor came closer to you, noticing what had happened. Kneeling down on the opposite sided of the stranger, she leaned down, also inspected the wound with great fear. 

“He’s lucky,“ you told her, pointing at the bullet entrance. “The suit shell stopped the bullet, somehow. I can stabilize him and then we can go find the Duke.“ 

“No,“ your mentor interrupted you immediately, brushing the dark brown hair of the stranger out of his face, a motherly gesture, as if she knew him. A concerned, yet loving gaze hushed over her face as you watched her closely. “You need to bring him away from here, somewhere safe. Check on him and make sure he survives the night. I’ll come for you.“ 

As you processed her words, you shook your head. This had become the biggest mission for your mentor and you since the beginning of it all. You had hunted down the Duke for almost an entire year by now, only for all of this to turn out much bigger than either of you had expected. With almost experienced firsthand what the bullet could do, there was no way in hell you would let her do this without your help, even if she didn’t need it. You were trained for this, and for this only. You couldn’t let her do this on her own. 

Letting go of the stranger, you pushed yourself up and caught her wrist. “No, I’m coming with you.“ 

“We’ll handle this, trust me.“ she said, grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go of you, ready to storm into the next fight. “Please, do me the favor and protect Robin.“ 

Jumping off the platform, she was quick to getaway, leaving you behind with the stranger. 

“No, I can’t,“ you yelled out, “Selina!“

Your eyes had burned as your mentor had turned her back on you, and even though every fiber of your body argued to go after her, you did as you were told to. 

Unlike you, the stranger didn’t argue when you had draped his arms over your shoulders, helping him to get back up on his feet. His face had contorted in pain as he straightened himself. Without any second thought about it, you had reached out for his free hand to press it together with yours against the wound, because even though you didn’t know him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. You had spent the entire past months analyzing every data and material about the Duke’s bullets you could get your hands on, knowing the brutal impact they caused all too well. 

As you had made your way carefully through the rubble of the factory, headed outside, a car came into your view. You didn’t care whose car it was, only having on your mind that you were in need of one to take the two of you somewhere safe, and you were glad that the stranger apparently didn’t care either. 

Gotham City’s streetlights flickered past you as you rushed through the late night traffic, driving out of the city, stopping somewhere in-between the highway and the next suburb at a familiar run down motel, where rarely anyone ever willingly stayed at. It was run by an old lady and her son, whom received anonymous checks with money once in a while for her unknown guests. It had served your mentor and you well many times, it was the perfect hideout when things got wrong as no one would ever question it. 

Given the dried blood all over your clothes and face, and the weapons strapped onto almost every limb of your body, you were more than thankful now to not go up and having to pay for a room. Instead you simply had done it as always—cracked the lock open and entered as if the place belonged to you. 

The blood hardened on your face, yet you could feel it cracking when you found yourself kneeled in front of the stranger, whom you had placed into the dusty, old wing chair. With great carefulness and even greater improvisation, you tried your utter best to take care of his wound, patting with a cloth soaked in cheap vodka from the minibar onto the wound. A sharp whimper left his mouth. 

“I’m sorry.“

“It’s fine,“ he falsely assured you through gritted teeth, looking down at you. 

Ignoring his lie, you shook your head as you continued to clean out the wound. It was far from being anything merely close to being fine, it was worse than you had thought. Although the hard shell of his suit had stopped the bullet’s full impact from entering his body, it had burned partly through the material, leaving a nasty, large burned scar on his lower torso. Unclothing him without hurting him at the same time seemed impossible, the suit material had burned slightly onto his skin. 

“I’m almost done,“ you told him, not knowing what else to talk about. You didn’t even know him, and the silent tension in the room was suffocating you. 

He didn’t say anything in return to, instead, he tried his best to suppress any noise of pain. Besides the small vodka bottle, you hadn’t found much to take care of his wound. It was pure luck that it was only a burned flesh wound, instead of an open one. Otherwise, you would’ve been fucked as there was nothing laying around to remotely sew it close. By ripping and shredding a towel with your knife, which went dull in the process of it, you had managed to makeshift a bandage for him. 

“Here, lean forward,“ you took the prepared bandage in your hand. 

Slowly he leaned forward, groaning in pain with every movement. As quickly as you were able to, you wrapped the towel remains around his torso, pulling it tight. It didn’t need to hold for long, it just needed to help him survive the night. 

“It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing,“ you sighed, reassuring yourself that the bandage was secure enough. Split seconds later, you held in, noticing your hands near his naked upper body, so close that you feel his warmth, his heartbeat racing, his breathing slowing down. In the next, you felt his eyes scrutinizing every inch of you, making you glance up to him to meet his eyes, only to catch him with parted lips. 

”Thank you,“ he breathed quietly in return. 

You gulped under the tension of his eyes watching you, letting go of his hips as you pushed yourself away from him until you could lean against the end of the bed. For the first time in this long night, you felt some sort of relief as you leaned your head back against the old mattress. Every part of your body felt tensed and sore, and while you tried your hardest to stay wake, you craved nothing more than to crawl into that dusty bed and get some rest. 

But you didn’t close your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, not until you saw her again and knew that nothing happened to her. Looking at the stranger, you were sure he felt the same way as he moved around unsettled in that chair, feeling miserable as he was unable to do anything due to the crushing pain that kept him sitting right there. 

“So, you’re Robin, huh? Batman’s little sidekick?“ 

A muffled chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m far from being little.“

“You’re not even a head taller than me.“ 

He shrugged, regretting it immediately as another sharp whip of pain hit him. “So what, I’m still growing, unlike you probably.“ 

He wasn’t wrong about that. 

“You’re the Kitten everyone talks about.“ he said after you hadn’t said anything in return to him. 

You pressed your lips to a small smile. “That’s at least what everyone calls me.“ 

He pushed himself further down in the chair, letting out a breathy groan in response. “I already guessed that that wasn’t your real name.“ 

Meeting his dark gaze, you replied, “Well, I’ll take that Robin isn’t your real name either.“ 

“No, it’s Dick.“ 

“Dick? For real?“ you snorted, seeing the annoyance written all over his face as he rolled his eyes. “No, I get it. Short for Richard, right? I’m Y/N.“ 

He didn’t say anything in reply to that. You’d received nothing beyond a simple, barely recognizable nod. Not a false ’nice to meet you’, nor a silly comeback comment about your name. Instead, he and you fell into silence again, heads resting with eyes so heavy, drained from any energy and feeling so desperate for rest, yet neither of you dared to fall asleep. 

“You still have blood on your face.“ 

You felt it, how it dried down all over your face, cracking with every movement. Once your immediate reaction would have been to touch your face in astonished shock, now however, things were quite different. Instead, you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it. “I know,“ you replied quietly, “I don’t care.“ 

It was the truth, you didn’t a bit. It left you cold. 

“What do you care about?“ 

The tone of his voice clearly mocked you, although its tiredness, and it made you furious. Let alone looking at him suddenly made you regret that you had saved him as he was the reason you were stuck here. The reason why you weren’t with your mentor, fighting alongside her like you were supposed to. Now all you were left with his mockery tone and the bitter unknown of your mentor’s well-being. 

Batman may was with her, and God knows, what a skilled fighter he was, but that wasn’t enough for you. Your mentor and you had stood together for years now after she had taken you under her wing, no one knew her better than you did. You knew every move of hers, you knew when you were about to win, as well as when to give up a fight. No one could protect her as you could.

For months, you had watched the Duke and his following, trained and prepared to overthrow, only to end up being stuck with a stranger in a motel room.

“You know what I do care about?“ it left your mouth quicker, more harsher than you had intended. “I care about Selina. I care about the mission I had with her before Batman and you came along. We’ve had a plan, it would have all been fine if you hadn’t showed up, because now I’m stuck here, not knowing when or if she comes back, and that’s all your fault.“

“If I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve shot you right in the head.“

“So it be!“ you cried out.

He scoffed. “You can’t be serious.“

“Oh, I fucking am.“ 

All the pain seemed forgotten as he sat up straight, his eyes so sterling furious.

“Look, I understand exactly how you feel, but this was so much bigger than either of us had expected. We would’ve only been a burden for them, instead of help, and you would’ve been dead if I hadn’t been there to save you. As much as you have saved me with this.“ he argued, his voice cracking by the end, motioning to the bandage you had made. “I know this unknown sucks, but they will make it through. They’ve faced worse together already, have a little faith in them. She’ll come back for you.“ 

Hot tears shot in your eyes, as you loosened your balled fists. Facing away from him, you blinked them away, trying your utter best to keep yourself contained. You felt like a fool for reacting this intensely, especially in front of him. You’d noticed yourself a while ago how bad it had gotten, how much you depended on your relationship with Selina. She was the only family you had left and although she was far more experienced than you, letting her alone in a situation like this scared you. 

Your dependence made you vulnerable, and somehow you were glad that Dick didn’t use that as an advantage against you. Instead, he had said what you had needed to hear, almost as if he truly knew what it felt like to be this helpless and weak.

“Do you think this is what we’re supposed to do, what they’ve secretly wanted? Exchange our real names, befriend each other, because we’re both sidekicks?“ 

His mouth twitched upwards. “If you rather want me to call you kitten, I can do that.“ 

“No, I like it when—“ you murmured, suddenly regretting being so harsh to him. “Call me by my real name.“ 

“If you call me by mine.“ he said sincere, and for the briefest of moments, you held onto that. It was perhaps the closest thing to a friendship you’d experienced in years. 

Part 2 coming soon.

Thank you for reading — I'm always happy about feedback.

[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Alternative Universe Father-In-Law

Word Count: 2,700

Summary: Bruce enters a portal by mistake, leading him to bring back someone from another universe for a nice breakfest.

Pairing: Bruce x female!reader

Notes: I enojyed the comic and the animated movie where thomas meets bruce and i had an idea to write for it. also give alfred some well desserved flowers in being a dad. #alfreddesreveshisflowers

Warnings: dad that has come back with the milk

'I am telling you, Lois. Clark is stubborn, but he has a weak spot; mention the missing turkey of '08, and he will shut up and let you do whatever you want. "

'Wait! That really works?'

'Of course, it does. I have known Clark for 7 years, and I was the witness to that crime, so just mention it: he will fall back, trust me. Now I have to go. I am home.'

'Thanks, doll!'

'No worries, bye!'

Opening the big door, you enter with your phone nestled on top of your shoulder as you held the grocery bags. Stepping into the manor, you noticed the living room where Alfred was dusting behind the plasma screen.

'Mistress y/n. Welcome back.' The cheerful butler spoke as he walked to you, grabbing the grocery bags

'Thank you, Alfred. How was your day?' I asked him, striding next to him as we entered the spacious kitchen that held the marble island in the middle, placing the bags on top of it

'My day was good. The gardener came by and took care of the bush that Master Damian had 'shaped' with his swords yesterday. Although the poor man left with a terrible mind haze after finishing the Herculean task, managing to shape it back into a proper bush, and not some rhombus as Master Damian did.'

'Do remind me to tell Damian to leave the shrubs at peace. Maybe he can use those swords' skills to cut up meat when we have BBQs.'

'That seems like a great idea.'

The two hushed and resumed their conversation as Damian entered, his smile non-existent, his eyes scrunched into a tight-knit. You turn to him, saying with a slight chuckle

'Speak of the devil. What's up, Dami?'

The child walked between Alfred and you, crossing his arms and with a deep sigh, he articulated gradually

'Father has disappeared.'

You look at Alfred, knowing fully well that sometimes Bruce disappears to follow a clue, 'He will turn up by the end of the day. Bruce is like that, don't worry, sweetheart.'

'That is true, even before his vigilante lifestyle, Master Bruce was always the one to go with no notice but always turned up when his belly rumbled.'

With a giggle nestled in Alfred's sentence, Damian spoke again, shaking his head 'No. Father and I have been working on a portal and when I was grabbing a tool, he connected two wires, which opened a portal and pulled him in. By the time I came close, the portal closed.'

Looking at Alfred with a concerned look, you spoke what you two were thinking, 'And how come you two didn't tell us about that portal?'

Damian shook his head 'I-I have no clue, y/n.'

'Okay... and do you know where the portal leads to?'

'Between our world and other 456 parallel universes.'

fuck

Sighing deeply, you look at Damian 'So we have 1 in a 456 chance of finding him?'

'Yes. So are we going?' Damina asked, ready to jump into the adventure of the chance to jump from one universe to another

'No. We aren't. Damian, I can barely turn on the TV here without asking for help. And by no means will I manage to open a portal. We only have to wait and be next to the Bat computer to see if there are any anomalies. If an anomalie happens, I know someone who can help us.' I say, looking at the small assasin child

Damian looks up at you, his eyes asking questions, 'Who do you know, mother?'

'A friend, someone I knew way before you and Bruce. Even before I met Clark.'

You look at Alfred smiling 'He will show up, right Alfred?'

Alfred responds, faying his smile 'Of course, Misstress y/n.'

While the day dragged along in a snail-pace of time, you felt yourself doze off on the bat computer, a small trail of drool leaving a trail on the keyboard that was far too uncomfortable, but when you are fatigued, anything can be a pillow, and that stiff neck fo yours is a problem in the morning.

A shift in the air moved and circled, stirring you up from your slumber. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the luminous light that materialized in the Batcave, the wind pushing around the whirlpool of light as a tall, a dark shadow exited out. Staying up on numb legs, you felt the same pull you felt with Bruce, a warm safe space that drew you two always closer.

'Bruce?' you asked cautiously as you paused. The shadow you saw his features, the sharp hairstyle that was always in place, his tall and muscled build that was engraved in your mind. You knew that was him. Moving to him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you but another one followed, disappointment.

'Where were you?! We were worried sick about your stupid ass! How could you not tell me that you were making a goddamn portal in the house, Bruce!' you directed your words at him, the light of the rustled and shined over his taller-than-usual figure but nonetheless, you continued, 'And don't think for a fact you went to another universe that means I will get any sympathy from me. You are sleeping on the couch for the next 3 weeks.'

As the portal began to size down the light shimmered down you step back letting yourself catch a breath, sure you were mad but you were also glad that he was alive.

With the portal gone, the shadow started to dissipate bringing back the man you loved. You waited, a small smile on your face as you heard him speak a few shades deeper than what you know 'You were right. She is a firecracker.' Stepping back few more steps at the unfamiliar tone you watched a shape move behind him tall as him, same as him, did Bruce duplicate?

Leaning on the Bat computer, ready to press the button on the keyboard to call the remainder of the Bat Family you watched carefully as one moved closer to you, revealing... Bruce, your Bruce with a small smile.

'Sorry I was gone, dalrin.''

'Bruce, what is going on?'

'I met someone along the way.' Bruce steps for you to see the man that you talked to, with one confident step the man steps to you, his features coming to light, grey hair styled in a way that not even the wind could move one strand, his blue eyes decorated with wrinkles and his smile eerily identical to Bruce's looking at them side by side it struck you

'Love, this is my father, Thomas Wayne. In the universe I stumbled upon was a universe where my father was the Batman, and I was shot that night.'

Thomas smiled warmly at you, offering a hand to shake 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. L/n. Bruce has told me a great deal about you.' Shaking his strong hand, you think

What a great first impression. First, I thought he was Bruce and second I gave him an earful. What a great first impression.

'It is great to meet you, Dr. Wayne. I apologize for my actions beforehand, I thought you were Bruce and wel-'

'No worries about that. It is great to know that my son has someone who keeps him in check.' He spoke as you awkwardly laughed it off.

Bruce stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist 'Let's try this one more time. Father, this is Y/n, she is the love of my life, and the woman I wish to marry and spend the rest of my life.'

It's your time to be shocked yet again. You and Bruce never talked about it, only joking about being called Mrs.Wayne but he never communicated his desire to get married. Thomas glimpsed at the two of you, Bruce stood proudly with you while you tried your best to conceal your red cheeks and shocked eyes at his claims 'You better treat her right, son.' Thomas spoke

'He does, Dr. Wayne.'

You uttered, looking at the alternative universe father-in-law as Bruce examined your expression and in that moment, he felt himself fall in love yet again with you.

'How about we grab a bite? I am sure that Dr. Wayne would appreciate a good breakfast.'

Thomas nodded his head in agreement, beaming 'I'd love that, but y/n, no need for formalities. Call me Thomas. I haven't been a doctor in decades.'

'Sure. Thomas.'

Grabbing Bruce's hand you three exit the Batcave and head to the living room.

Strolling into the living room, you smelt Alfred's mouthwatering breakfast, scented the familiar maple syrup, and took notice of the sizzling bacon.

'I am bringing our guests.' You announced and Alfred cracked a smile as he watched you bring Bruce into the dining room where Damian was already seated. Alfred placed the lofty breakfast on the table. Pivoted to Bruce switching into scolding mode 'Now, young Master, I think we could have a great and lenghty chat about what goes in the Batcave.'

As Bruce stood behind you, Thomas' voice boomed into the ear of the butler 'I agree, Pennyworth. He surely needs that talk."

Alfred froze when he heard that voice. His eyes caught onto Thomas and he felt and thought that he was dead, joining the afterlife as there was no way that the deceased Thomas Wayne was standing before him.

'Master Wayne?' Alfred weaved quietly towards the man, and Thomas smiled 'Hello, old friend.'

He spoke, grabbing the longtime friend into a bone-crushing hug. Smiling at the interaction, Damian stood from his seat, walking towards his alternative universe grandfather 'So by my conclusion…you are my grandfather?'

Thomas stepped and crouched down to his eye level, smiling 'Yes, but I am. From another world.'

'I figured as much.'

Thomas looked at Damian and Bruce, his gaze shifting from one to another 'The resemblance is uncanny. He is your and y/n's copy.'

You felt yourself freeze as you interrupted him 'Thomas, he isn't mine. I--i mean he is my son but he didn't come from my stomach. Damian's mother is a leader of a group of assassins.'

Thomas stood up, watching his son 'You cheated, son?'

Bruce shook his head 'Father, no. Damian's mother and I met before me and y/n. Damian's mother was a --'

'She is a cold-hearted assassin who doesn't care about me or my well-being.' Damian cut in, saying what he considered his mother.

Thomas looks to the side, a bit shy about this situation, thanks Bruce.

Alfred coughs dryly, breaking the tension 'Let us all sit for a nice breakfast.'

Sitting next to Bruce you saw his smile, his true smile. The one reserved for you, comfort moments you both encountered and made, a smile that told you he felt at peace.

As everyone ate you desired to ask questions your father-in-law 'So Thomas, what do you think about Bruce being this world's Batman?'

Thomas looks at you a slight smile 'I always believed in the multiverse, and I alwats hoped that in one of them my son is alive and living his life. Being Batman, I suppose, is a part of the Wayne lineage, but what I mostly hold important in my heart is that my son is happy.' And he smiles bigger. 'And I can see that he truly is.’

Blushing at Thomas' words you looked at Bruce, your eyes twinkling with love while his blue irises showered you in silent praise 'I definitely am.'

Damian whispers to Thomas 'Thanks a lot. Now they will make-out in front of us.' Thomas laughs, whispering in the exact low tone 'That's good. It's better than to fight, besides, Martha adn I were the same. Always in love, never apart.'

Bruce turns to Damian saying slyly, 'You are aware that you are across the table, and not 40 meters away, Damian. We can still hear you.'

Damian rolls his eyes, playfully but nonetheless taking his grandfather's words to heart. It is definitely better for them to be in love and not fight. 'I have to feed Bat-Cow. Y/n, will you help me? I am too short to get the ball of hay.'

Smiling you stand up, leaving with Damian. Alfred, Thomas, and Bruce stayed at the table.

'Bat-Cow?' Thomas asked, perplexed, while his hands tingled

'No worries, Master Wayne. Thankfully, it is not a hybrid of a cow and bat; it is just a plain cow with an artistic name.' Alfred spoke

'Father, stay.' Bruce blurred out, declaring the thing he wished he would receive an optimistic answer to

'Bruce... I can't. If I stay long enough, my universe will disappear. Besides, if I did.... I don't want you to grieve all over again.'

'Believe me, Master Wayne...Master Bruce still grieves to this day.'

Thomas stands up from his seat, hugging his son 'I love you, Bruce. There is no need to grieve anymore. It won't change anything. You have no idea how much it brings me happiness to see you happy with Alfred, your son, and Y/n.’ Thomas didn't let Bruce stand up, not to see the small pixel-like specs encircling Thomas' legs. Alfred noticed the scene but stayed silent.

'When I see you looking at your son and Y/n I see myself and my life I had before that night. And it makes me so happy to see it. I know that it can be better. You make me proud every day, and will continue to do so."

The pixels reached Bruce's eyesight, standing up to look at hIs father, Bruce weakly said 'Stay...please.'

'It's not me to decide but I am happy I had a nice meal with your family.'

Kissing his forehead, Thomas dissipated back into his universe. Bruce looks at Alfred a small tears escaping his eye. The two men stand up, hugging each other, leaning on this moment. Bruce wanted to talk to his father more to make up for the lost and stolen time. It was time that he wanted nothing more than to be a son again. Alfred wanted to talk more to Thomas about Bruce. To tell him how he has matured, how he traveled the world and yet came back home, in Gotham, to make the city shine brighter than ever. To tell him how Bruce keeps an engagement ring for y/n ever since she moved into the manor but is not sure when to pop the question.

Both Bruce and Alfred wanted to tell him about their path of trying to grasp at straws to find justice in this forsaken town.

Pulling away from the hug Alfred spoke, 'As you can see, your father is proud at you. And I believe that goes for every Thomas Wayne in any alternative universe.'

Bruce looked at Alfred, nodding in confirmation 'I do believe that but I also am proud of the father that raised me as well. The one standing in front of me.'

Alfred's eyes twinkled in appreciation no words needed to be spoken at that response, there simply weren't those words that could how Alfred felt in this moment.

Steps echo closer and closer as you come back, with no sight of Thomas.

'Is he gone?' You ask, seeing Bruce walk to you, a smile on his face.

Bruce nods, hugging you, Feeling a bit sad at not being able to say goodbye to your father-in-law you ask Bruce 'How are you feeling?'

Pulling away Bruce chuckles 'Good. This moment made me realize some things. About my family.'

Bruce understood. The reason he went into that portal and brought his father here, it was a shifting moment for him, a moment to bring him in a more grateful state, he knew how lucky he was to have Alfred as his father figure, his son, and you, possibly his future fiancee.

That is until he pops the question.

Hope you enjoyed it!

[mlmxreader]

Quizzical | John Constantine x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi, I hope it's not too late to request John Constantine with the prompt "It must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny" of your list? ❞

: ̗̀➛ However he does it is a mystery, but John always finds a way to surprise you.

: ̗̀➛ swearing, VERY VERY mild sex references

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Stretching out on your sofa, John made himself more than at home; his shoes were chucked aside somewhere between the fireplace and the sofa, and his coat had long been tossed to the floor somewhere he didn’t actually care to look.

His tie was completely undone, sitting open against his off-white shirt as he watched you go about picking his things up and putting them away properly; he smiled, tilting his head to the side and watching you curiously.

Of all the beings in the world that he had been with, John kept finding himself coming back to you every single time; he thought at first that maybe it was just the overnight stays, but he soon pushed that aside when he realised that it was something else.

No, you were different. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t pry, or that you understood almost completely what it was like for him; maybe it was just the fact that you were more open and more accepting and welcoming of him than anybody else in the world.

He put his feet up, relaxing and closing his eyes as he yawned softly; a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth for just a moment too long that you noticed, smacking his ankle to grab his attention.

“Oi! If you’re gonna sit there like bloody King Shit of Dung Manner, least you could do is go and make a fuckin’ butty, would ya?”

John grinned, spreading his legs so that one slipped off of the sofa, giving you more than enough room to sit between his legs as he looked you up and down eagerly. “Now why would I do that, eh?”

You wanted to roll your eyes and to chastise him for not doing anything for you while you were expected to clean up after him, but you could only sigh as you raked a hand down your face and shrugged. “Maybe because I have to put up with Bruce Wayne every fucking day?”

“You wanted the job,” he pointed out. “If you didn’t wanna be his assistant, you wouldn’t’ve taken the job. You said so yourself that you was happy enough working as his social whatever manager.”

“Social media manager,” you huffed. “And I was! I really was! But the money is better, and the hours are… less demanding.”

“So don’t complain,” John chuckled, lying back with a smug hum. “I might be your boyfriend, but I’m not your fuckin’ job advisor.”

You paused, stunned for a moment as you looked at him quizzically; he had never used that word before, and you were almost certain that being your actual boyfriend was not something that he would have ever wanted.

He was John Constantine, for crying out loud - he didn’t do relationships. But when you didn’t answer for far too long for his comfort, he raised a brow, looking at you like he was expecting you to say something and he was hooked on every little noise you would make until you spoke.

“What?” He asked, furrowing his brows. “Cat your bleeding tongue?”

You shook your head, trying to come to your senses as you sighed and attempted to put the words completely together for once. “No, just… you never said that you were my boyfriend before… and I never thought that’s what you… what you wanted.”

John didn’t seem phased as he gestured at the room around him. “Well, what’d you call the bloke who sleeps with you nearly every night, constantly calls, and is always hanging around?”

“I… I dunno,” you whispered softly. “I guess I just never… never really thought about it because you didn’t bring it up or nothing…”

He hummed, squirming to sit upright before leaning back slightly and resting on his arm. “Well, we’re talking about it now, ain’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you murmured. “Is that… is that what you want? To be my boyfriend, I mean, is that what you want?”

He nodded. “I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded back, chewing at the inside of your lip. “So it’s settled, then… now, go make me a sandwich, yeah?”

John rolled his eyes as he moved to get off of the sofa, but he paused to quickly press a soft kiss to your lips before he moved away; you almost missed his presence when he wandered into the kitchen, but you couldn’t deny that there was something… off about the way he kissed you.

It wasn’t hungry and harsh like it usually was, and it wasn’t filled with heat and neediness like normal. It was sweet and soft, and chaste and unexpecting.

You chewed at the inside of your lip, thinking about what it could have possibly meant; of course, you knew that you would probably have to let Bruce down from now on, as he often took you with him as his plus one to events and galas and such - but now you would probably have to tell him that you couldn’t do that, as you were with John and you didn’t want him to think that you and Bruce were a couple. 

“Alright,” John announced as he sauntered back in, wiping his hands on his shirt. “I got the cheese on toast going at the moment, I’ll chuck some jam on it once it’s done.”

You hummed as you looked at him, almost shocked. “Yeah, yeah, thank you.”

“You alright?” He asked, furrowing his brows as he came to sit beside you. 

“Just thinking,” you told him softly, dismissively shaking your head. “Y’know, I’m probably gonna have to tell Bruce, I mean-”

“You’ve been going out with him to all that fancy shit for yonks and I’ve never gotten jealous before,” he pointed out. “Don’t intend to, either. Trust me, it must be magic, how inside your eyes, I see my destiny - and it must be magic if Bruce Wayne ever thinks he’s gonna get in your trousers.”

You laughed quite loudly, playfully shoving him. “You’re an ass!”

“Meh,” he slung his arm around your shoulders. “You love me.”

[spidey-x-male-reader]

PLEASE Batman Begins Scarecrow with a male reader, every fic for him is fem reader and I’m down bad for this man 🥲🙏 how about some relationship hcs with a reader who’s the complete opposite of him, a big scaredy-cat?

Pairing: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x male!reader

Summary: Headcanons - you're dating Jonathan Crane while being a big scaredy-cat

A/N: This was so relatable because I honestly love Jonathan Crane (and generally Cillian Murphy so much) and I'm so easily scared of so many different things man

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

When you told him that you were a big scaredy cat he thought you were overdoing it

You weren’t

However he doesn’t judge you for anything, quite the opposite actually. He finds it endearing

He would judge you for none of your fears or things you’re afraid of

He understands that everyone has their fears, and he respects that. He takes a patient and gentle approach when encouraging you to confront your anxieties, without pushing you too hard or too fast

That man is a psychologist. He knows exactly how to properly handle things like that

He becomes even more protective of you, not just because he cares about you deeply but also because he recognizes your vulnerability

He’s always around when you need help whether it is encouragement or getting you out of a situation, he doesn‘t even hesitate

I feel like he’d consider trying to help you confront your fears with his fear toxin but then is like “yeah no let’s not do that”

So he helps you out the usual way

Even though he might seem scary at first (especially with the mask) he starts becoming a calming presence in your life

He would literally leave his work in a second if you called or texted that you needed help

Sure that man is a supervillain but you’re his soft spot

He’d really do anything to help you deal better with your fears and would be so proud of you when you managed to do something no matter how small it seems to be

[basicbatboys]

hiii can u do #47 with dick??

Hiya! Thank you for your request!

47 was "You look so cute when you can't speak properly" and so here is a fic based on this idea!

You stood, open-mouthed, blubbering nonsense as Nightwing stood in the wreckage of the three goons who had been chasing you down an alley. You didn’t know what to think, except that your best friend was right and that he is more handsome in person. The shots from the newspaper had nothing on the guy standing in front of you. 

He sauntered towards you, flashing me his trademark smile and you don’t know if you were seeing things but you think he winked at you. He placed his hands on his hips and stared you down. 

“You okay?” He asked, his face flashing with concern when he saw the state you were in. He rushed toward you and reached out his hands. “Can I touch you?”

You shook your head, then nodded, then sputtered, “I’m fine! N-Now. Now, I’m fine.”

He grinned and shook his head, pulling out a grappling hook. “You’re cute when you don’t know how to speak properly. Stay out of trouble, alright?” With that, he shot his hook onto a roof and took off into the night. 

As you walked home, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. It didn’t subside until you had locked your door and retreated into your bedroom for the night. 

___________

It had been three weeks since Nightwing saved you that brought you to where you are now. You’d seen him every night since then, he caught you while you were leaving work and the two of you got to talking.

“Are you some sort of stalker?” You asked him one night, laughing. 

“A stalker? No! I just take it as my personal mission to make sure pretty people make it home safe. Besides, the second time was an accident. It’s not my fault you work at the bar next to Bat Burger.” 

“Bat Burger? Really? I hear they spit in your food.”

“Well I hope they don’t stop because everything they

make is perfect just the way it is.”

You laughed and made a face. “Are you legally required to say that?”

He beamed. “I’m actually not legally required to say anything!”

___________

It had been one year since Nightwing saved you and that brought you to where you are now. You and he were having your usual midnight dinner of Bat Burger on the rooftop of the bank building. 

You stuck another fry in your mouth and laughed, smiling brightly. “You’re pretty cool, you know that?” You asked, looking over at him and then down at the street below you. Even in the middle of the night, the street was bustling with heavy traffic. People just like you were on their way home from work or out to get their own midnight dinners. 

“I don’t know how to take that.” He replied, scratching his head. “Is that a compliment?”

You nodded, sipping your soda. “Of course it is. Would I ever be mean to you?”

He shrugged. “Maybe, you might be someday.”

Suddenly, his comm buzzed and he stood and walked to the other side of the roof to take his call. When he returned, he looked distraught and distracted. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I have to sneak out on our date. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” With that, he was off, leaving you to wonder if you’d heard him correctly. Did he call this a date? Your heart fluttered with excitement. He did say that, didn’t he?

__________

It has been five years since Nightwing saved you and that brought you to where you are now. “Dick!” You yelled, slamming down a hand of Uno cards. “As in the derogatory term, not your name.” You said with a smirk. 

He laughed and rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Sorry sweetheart, I tried to warn you. I don’t lose at Uno.” 

You two were seated on the living room floor of the Wayne Manor. It was very new to you, all of this. It was only about a week ago that Nightwing had told you who he really was and invited you to his home to meet his family. You were still very unclear about what your relationship entailed because the two of you had known each other for a long time and the flirting was excessive but you could never make it official with someone who’s secret identity you didn’t know. Now that you knew who he was, you felt like there was opportunity for doors to open. Doors you definitely wanted to open. 

When you looked up, he had a goofy puppy look on his face and it made you laugh. “What are you looking at me like that for?” You asked. 

“I’m just happy, it’s such a relief to be honest and open with you. I’m so glad I got to tell you who I really am. I couldn’t take it anymore and Batman finally gave his blessing to let me let you in. You know, I really like you.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you stood up from the floor. “I really like you too.” You replied, clasping your hands together. “I’m glad you trust me.”

He stood too, walking toward you and putting his hands on your waist. You began to stutter, just like you did that first night. “I… Uh… What…?”

“Is this okay?” He asked, his hands moving to hover off of you. 

“Oh, yeah, of course, I’m just surprised is all.” You replied, stepping a little closer to him in a bold rush. 

“Surprised?” He countered, moving a hand to cup your cheek. 

You nodded. “Surprised.” 

He leaned down, your lips mere centimeters apart. “Well then I’m really about to shock you.” 

He closed the small gap and kissed you deeply and you felt unlike you’ve ever felt before in your life. Your body felt like it was on fire. Dick was the perfect man and here he was kissing you. 

He pulled away and gave you a small smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”

You felt so happy, so at peace, so… alive. You hoped this feeling would never end.

[side-shawty]

Hi everyone!

Me again! I know it’s been a reaaaaalllllyyy long time but I’ve had the very worst writing slump of my life. After over a year, I’ve decided to properly pick up my pen again. So if anyone still cares, my requests are OPEN and I’ll be working through the ones in my inbox.

Currently I’m writing for:

Marvel

DC (mostly bat family but I accept all others)

Supernatural (bc I’m rewatching)

LOVE YOU GUYS

-Duckie

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Flour- Kara Danvers

Pairing: Kara Danvers x Reader

Characters: Kara Danvers

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Kara Danvers (DC) + “Cookies” please? Thank you!! 🖤

Word Count: 411

Author: Charlotte

“I can’t breathe,” you coughed, taking a step out of the kitchen, hoping to find some form of fresh air.

Kara followed behind you, pausing behind you as you doubled over with your hands on your knees attempting to gain your breath again, having inhaled way too much of the cloud that had formed inside of the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” She asked, resting a hand on your back.

You had two good coughs to clear your throat before standing back up straight, your breathing falling back into a normal rhythm. Kara showed genuine concern on her face as she looked over your flushed face, your cheeks covered in white with tear trails amongst the powder that had changed your complexion.

“When you said you were bad at baking, I didn’t expect to be choked by the flour,” you frowned.

She gave you a sheepish smile. “I misjudged how much we needed, and I didn’t realise pouring the bag would create such a cloud that would choke you so much.”

Hoping the flour had cleared, you headed back into the kitchen to get a view of the carnage. Nothing had made its way into the oven yet, the ingredients not even fully combined but the room looked as though a vicious battle had occurred. Every utensil the kitchen held was spread out across the sides, now covered in flour and a few other ingredients.

You turned back to your girlfriend, who was equally coated in the ingredients that should be in the mixing bowl.

“Should we actually try to make these cookies?” You asked. “Or is it worth just cleaning the apartment and buying some cookies instead?”

She pondered the question for a moment. “I wanted to take cookies to my mums but if this is anything to show for what they will turn out like, they’ll probably poison everyone.”

You couldn’t deny it. You had been working on the whole ordeal for half an hour and you barely had a bowl of mess to show for it, and it would likely take at least triple that time to clean up the disaster that the two of you had caused.

“There is that bakery two blocks from here, we can probably pick up some cookies there,” you offered. “Obviously after we’ve showered and somehow scrubbed the flour from every inch of our beings.”

Kara ran a hand through her hair, only matting the flour in deeper. “I guess that’s the plan.”

[darlingdreamersworld]

I'm obsessed OBSESSED with marriage of convenience, friends-to-lovers, Dick Grayson x reader.

A Simple Favor (Drabble)

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader (Drabble)

It wasn't rare for the JLA members to sit in silence before a meeting while waiting for everyone to arrive. Such was the case today, as you waited for the other members to show up so Batman could begin his debriefing. It wasn't extremely urgent, which is why you assumed everyone was taking their sweet time.

You quietly reviewed your essay on your tablet while you waited, opting to get some work done and hopefully email it to your professor before the meeting began. If you were lucky, you could convince Barry or Batman to review it for you.

It was then that you remembered what you needed to ask.

"Hey, Nightwing?"

Dick Grayson was your best friend, had been since you both met back when he was Robin and you had just joined the Young Justice. You both had grown since then, he was now on his way to becoming detective and you were pursuing your own career.

So, who else to ask a teensy favor from?

"Are you seeing anyone right now?"

Everyone else's conversations stopped, immediately invested into where this conversation is going. It wasn't a secret that you both had perfect chemistry, and everyone was waiting to see just when you crazy kids would get together.

He raised a brow, "That's so random."

"Are you?"

"No. Why? Do you need me to pretend to be your boyfriend again because your mom won't get off your back?"

You ignored his question, "Do you snore? Grind your teeth? Sleeptalk? Kick?"

He narrowed his eyes at you, "I don't think so."

You spared a glance at Conner, who looked mildly surprised and very interested in where this conversation was going. He nodded, to confirm what he said and you nodded to yourself, making up your mind.

"Do you want to get married?"

Dick laughed, recalling that time when he was 12 and he accidently said that he was going to marry you someday, "Sure, but why the sudden interest in marriage?"

"My professor is subletting this penthouse and the rent is insanely cheap since he bought the place out. Only thing is that he isn't letting single college students apply for obvious reasons so if I get married, I have a better chance."

Everyone gaped at you. You were proposing to Dick, for an apartment?

"You know I'm rich right? I can buy you an apartment if you want."

You shook your head, "I don't want to feel like I owe you."

"And me getting married to you won't be owing you?"

You blushed lightly, "I mean you can always say no. I could ask someone else, I just asked you first because you said you wanted to marry me someday back when we were kids."

"That was a joke!"

You shrugged, turning back to your paper. Dick spared a glance at his father, standing at the head of the table and if he hadn't grown up with him, he wouldn't know that underneath that stoic expression, Bruce Wayne was truly baffled at your relationship.

Dick chuckled lightly, "Okay sure, but only because I live alone and I can't cook."

There was a beat of silence.

"WHAT!?"

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@hanbedumbaf

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@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

[achluos]

babs study

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealously Headcanons

Hey my lovelies back with another Headcanon, been rewatching the Dark Knight a lot reccently. The Joker and the Temptress Part 2 is coming, it's just taking a while. My requests are open! My guidelines are pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider and the divider!

❀The Joker is an extremely possessive and jealous man. He refuses to let anyone get in between the two of you. he doesn't care about their intentions. If they're getting too close to you Joker is going to deal with them plain and simple.

❀Many factors cause Joker to become jealous. He doesn't let people stare at you, or make comments about you. He doesn't like people making comments about your relationship. He doesn't want to hear people doubt your abilities or your relationship. It's none of their business. It never stops people, however.

❀Joker doesn't hide his vicious jealous streak. He wants people to know what kind of man he is. Especially as his numbers begin to grow. They need to be fearful of him. They will know two things. One, they will not cross him if they want to make it out alive. Secondly, if anyone dares mess with you in any regard, he'll tear them apart.

❀So it goes without saying, that Joker makes his jealous revenge a public spectacle. He is going to set an example, to ward off anyone doing anything again. If they do so, then they are a fool for not heading his warning.

❀The encounters are violent and bloody. Joker speaks very little as he makes his claim on you. In Joker's mind, they might as well have injured you. His wrath is mighty as it is almost certain the individual dies. Anyone who dares to try to take you from him is an enemy of his.

[aphrmoosun]

ㅤ۫ ⠀⠀✿֔ᮬ᳘ ׅ ㅤ۫ ⠀Iria [97] she / her • Spain _ fat bi woman

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[imagines-to-quench-thirst]

Leave Me

Part 3 of Leaving Me Behind

Requested: can you please make a part three of Leaving her because of his father I am literally crying for them for Orm and Reader

Genre: angst (heartbreak), clashing conversation between father and son

(For Orm’s father I had to google his name. It said that his name was Orvax. Not sure if it’s correct but 🤷🏼‍♀️)

Enjoy!

Orm began to dive into the water; he felt a tug in his heart, a strong pull, making his brain calculate how to get back to the shore. He continued swimming. He felt the way of unhappiness as he swam against the moving currents and wave strokes. 

His heartbreak was nothing he could describe or even perceive with words. A feeling he knew was going to last.

Y/n was standing there, crying, pleading to the sky, the sea, and the land for him to return. Her hands shoveled and held the sand as if she was holding a lifeline and was trying to pull him back into her arms where she felt safe and protected. 

But now gone, descending deeper into the water, he felt his eyes gaze upon his kingdom, Atlantis. He meant to rule and guard, although it wasn't something he wanted to be anymore, his heart holding back, and yet his lineage, his bloodline, called him back, and now he doesn't want to go. 

The father's wrath was felt at the castle's entrance, and the defining silence was the only positive presence between the father and son.

'What are you doing?!' His father roared from the throne, 

'I was in love; I love someone. Someone loves me.' the young prince admitted with a broken, delicate tone trying to get a better sense of everything.

'You don't love! A ruler, a future king, doesn't have sentiments. He has his mastership and education to stand behind and not something nonsensical and breakable like love...' he spoke with disgust polluting each word. 

'Are you going to go on an identical path like your mother?!' His father banged his fisted hand on the throne handles, the brute force shaking the throne, the wrathful aftershock slithering around and towards Orm, bringing him to his knees, his face pulled down. The sheer bubbling anger Orm felt, he suppressed it, knowing how wrathful his father was, still feeling the snaps and punches on his body from years prior.

Orvax swam down to his son's level, witnessing his son, a future ruler usually full of dignity, brilliance, and regal venom dripping from his mouth and now spending a couple of months with a surface dweller transforming him. Orvax presumed Orm was just having enjoyment; he did not expect his son to come disfigured as a... disgrace.

Orvax touched his son's shoulder, feeling the quick pull back from Orm, Orm's eyes shooting up in pure fear and shock. Orm never saw his father so close. His father wasn't that type of person, the type of person he was...

'Since you are back, I do hope you won't be going back up. Unless you intend to rain upon waves of hurt to...surface dwellers.'

With the intentional pause on the last two words, Orm saw a mischief gleam in his father's eyes, a gleam he also had, a gleam of revenge.

After all, he was this type of person, vengeful and spiteful.

Orm felt his weight shift back from his feet and entirely on the floor. His future he didn't know he deserved with Y/n, was now gone completely. Replaced by ruling the kingdom, only having a feeling of fear of his father. His thoughts ran with the memories he made with Y/n locking them in the safest place, so nothing could tarnish them, not even his father and his cruel ways. Orm looks up at his blood and asks, knowing very well the answer. 

'So I don't even deserve to be happy, father?'

His father began to walk away as he answered, 'No.'

Y/n looked at the waves still crashing and moving, the scenery shades with a dark blue sky, the full moon, and starts being the only bright thing in Y/n view. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, were fixed onto the waves, her ears picking up the soft footsteps near her.

'Y/n.' a soft tone spoke, the tone she had heard numerous times. 

'Arthur, what should I do? I thought that he was happy.'

Arthur takes a small letter handing it to her, offering a missing piece of the puzzle.

'Unfortunately, it is power beyond our measures.'

Opening the letter Y/n, she gazed upon the rich handwriting.

'Dearest,

I love you. I do not wish to think this is our last communication, but it is. I hope to Gods that it is not. You gave me something no one ever did: to live happily. To enjoy. And my heart breaks over the thought of you crying, wasting your tears on someone like me. Therefore, I will continue to live as a future ruler, and you should continue your life without me. I will always cherish our moments in my cold heart.

-Orm.'                  

Y/n glimpses at Arthur and speaks, 'What should I do, Art?'

'Take one day at a time. Let's get you into the house.'

Standing up after hours of sitting, Y/n ambled back home, turning around, trying to see one last time if Orm was there, waiting for her. 

There wasn't much on the sea, only rocks and waves and a heartbroken king looking from the far distance, his love walking away.

[mlmxreader]

The Broken Soldier From a Broken Home | John Constantine x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Constantine "You're bleeding, for fuck's sake!" Medieval ❞

: ̗̀➛ Constantine finds himself in Medieval era Cymru, although he finds something there that he isn't quite willing to leave behind or to abandon so easily - at least, not without a proper fight, he isn't.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ graphic depictions of warfare, graphic depictions of death, death and injury, blood, swearing, smoking, mentions of alcohol, vomit

↳ word count: 1019

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You watched, unable to even move, your sword slowly slipping between your fingers, eyes wide and wild as your mouth fell open. Upon the battlefield, the bodies of slain men - your men - laid defeated and limp.

In horror, you could only continue to watch as one of your men was brought to his knees by an enemy soldier, and had a sword stuffed down his throat before being violently pulled forward; you wanted to scream, eyes going blurry and voice leaving you, as you watched his entrails being pulled either side as he was split into half.

You wanted to scream.

Blood spilling into the soil and pooling into a black puddle as it rose with the waters from yesterday’s rain; you did not even notice your sword hit the ground with a loud clatter.

You did not feel the wet ground at your knees and upon your hands; but you did feel the bile rising in your throat, only to be expelled through your lips with a harsh burn unlike any ale you had ever tasted before. It was like fire being coughed up from your lungs, and as you knelt there, powerless and defeated, you could only stay frozen. 

“Get up!” A thick accent snapped at you, followed by a harsh tug to your shoulder. “Come on, milwr! Up!”

Shaky and blurry, your gaze settled upon the brown eyes of John Constantine, who you knew as someone who did the same thing that Myrddin did; but that did not matter, as you flung yourself into his arms, holding on tightly as you finally screamed.

The sound loud enough to cut through the rustle of horse hooves and clanking metal.

Constantine did not dare to shove you away, he couldn’t. But he did know that you were not in a safe position for breaking, so he carefully guided you away from the battlefield - being sure to pick up your sword even though it burned his hands something fierce.

Myrddin had warned him that it was tied to your bloodline, and that he would be left with thick and blistering burns if he picked it up - but what else was he supposed to do?

After he had sat you against a tree, Constantine made quick work for discarding your armour, even if his hands did shake and he did worry that the lack of modern medicine would result in something far worse than he expected; but when he was about to open your shirt, he pulled away, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he stared at the palm of his hand.

“Go,” you coughed weakly, shaking your head. “Glywysing has fallen… we lost, cariad…”

Constantine shook his head, wiping your blood on his shirt before working your shirt aside so that he could properly see. “You’re bleeding, for fuck’s sake! What use are you to Arthur if you’re fucking bleeding?”

You could only cough in response, weak and defeated as you looked in the direction of the battlefield again. “Arthur should take my head… and let it be known that failure… failure to prevent them from invading…”

“No!” He snapped, thankful to see that the wound was not particularly deep. Yet his heart still raced and his hands still shook. “You think I’m gonna bloody let you die here?! After everything?!”

Gently, you laid your hand on his and shook your head. “You said you’re from the future, when we first met…”

“Yeah, and?”

“Tell me,” you croaked out, giving up the will to even talk. “Do we succeed?”

Constantine paused for a moment before sighing heavily and shaking his head. “No. They outlaw and ban your language. Flood your villages for water they don’t even want. They take over your lands… you’re not even considered a people on your own - only part of them, and your country isn’t recognised by anyone anymore…”

“So why must I survive?” You asked quietly. “It will all be for nothing anyway…”

He sat down beside you with a crash, pulling out his packet of cigarettes and lighting one up; he gave one to you and lit it for you as well. “Because I fucking care, milwr. I care about you, even though you are a pain in my ass at times, and I don’t wanna see you die.”

You scoffed, reaching for your sword and grasping the hilt. “You saw what they did… a sword through his fucking throat… they will never stop… they will do that to all of us, and the dragon will fall…”

Constantine shook his head, offering you his hand as he glanced at you for a moment. “Live for me, please.”

You glared at him for a moment, the pleading in his brown eyes seemingly much brighter than the blood and bits of brain and stomach in his dirty blond hair, and gave him your hand. “Fine, you have a deal… but it’s for you - no one else.”

He nodded slowly, pretending that he didn’t notice how you had completely given up; when he first met you, you were one of Arthur’s bravest soldiers.

Fighting to prevent the oncoming invasion, fierce and full of love for your countrymen - and now… now you did not even want to live for them, and he felt guilty for telling you that the future was bleak and broken. But he knew he did the right thing, as it wouldn’t have been right of him to lie to you that way. 

But seeing you give up on hope when you had once been so optimistic and full of… full of bravery. He hated it, although he could not blame you for it; a lifetime of war, constant your entire life, who could tell you that it was wrong to become hopeless, bleak, and broken?

Who could tell you that it was wrong to become tired and wish for little else than to die instead of see that future?

“Y’know,” he said just loud enough for you to hear. “I ain’t never bloody met anyone like you before, and I… I think I might stay. Study under Myrddin for a while. I think I might stay.”

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to Hayam and her family so they can escape the ongoing genocide in Palestine - even the smallest amount can have such a major impact and can help a lot. Please, consider donating.

[spidey-x-male-reader]

DC (Comics) Masterlist

Roy Harper / Arsenal

You and Roy have to go on a fake date for a mission. It ends up being a bust but you two still have fun.

You're aggresively texting your boyfriend when you realize that there's a very scary spider in your living room

Jason Todd / Red Hood

It's full moon and Jason is there to comfort you (werewolf reader)

To be continued...

Click here to find my Blog Guide and Masterlists for other fandoms

[basicbatboys]

🌙 Hi! I see a lot of Jason Todd x reader fics where the reader is really confident and sexy and badass, but I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is very shy. I’m really socially anxious and awkward and sometimes I’m really quiet or I pause and stutter or say words in the wrong order when I’m nervous. I’d love to see a reader like that ☺️

Howdy sunshine! What a lovely request! I am so glad you opened my eyes to diversifying the types of readers I write for so you can look forward to more of this stuff in the future (: I hope you enjoy it! I'm sorry for how long it took me to get back to you!

________

“Is it good?” Jason asked as you took your first sip of coffee. 

You nodded, tipping the cup back and allowing the hot goodness to slip into your mouth. As you did, you realized it was way too hot and you drank it way too soon after you got it. You swallowed thickly and a grimace spread across your face. You stuck out your tongue with a plech and fanned at it. 

Jason tilted his head back and laughed. “Too hot? Why did you say it was good before you tried it?”

You shrugged and returned your tongue to it’s rightful place. “I don’t know.” 

He smiled and ruffled your hair. “You’re too sweet.” 

You smiled shyly and looked down at the ground. You never really knew what to do when Jason complimented you. You were too awkward to ever say anything back but it didn’t seem to ever bother him and for some reason that bothered you.

“Come on.” He said, taking your free hand. “Let’s go home.”

You nodded and clasped your hand around his.

___

The two of you entered the apartment, your coffee still in hand. You hadn’t taken a sip since the “incident” and you weren’t sure if you ever would. But you would feel so bad not drinking it since he had paid for it, you didn’t want to waste his money. You got in your own head, staring blankly at the cup before Jason pulled you out of the rabbit hole you’d been digging. 

“Baby? You okay?” He asked, looking at you with concern. 

“Uh, yeah.” You muttered. “I just, well, I was just thinking. That’s all. I’m sorry.”

“What were you thinking about?” He asked, stepping toward you. 

“It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter.” You replied, playing with the rim of your cup. 

Jason smiled and closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s not stupid if you’re the one thinking it. You’re the smartest person I know.”

You frowned and looked up at him. “Why do you always do that?” You asked, your tone accusing.

“Do what?” Now he was frowning too. 

“Reassure me. Compliment me. I’m so weird and bumbling and you’re so cool. I... I don’t even understand why you like me. It feels fake." A tear dripped from your eye as the honesty came pouring. You couldn't look at him. "I’m just waiting for you to tell me you were joking the whole time and you never even liked me in the first place.” Tears pricked at your eyes as you spoke, your eyes trained downward. You stumbled over your words, unable to speak clearly and directly. “I just… I feel… I… I don’t know.”

Jason wrapped a hand around your cup and took it from you, setting it on the countertop. He used two fingers to pull your gaze toward his. 

“Look at me.” He said, his voice low and soothing. “I mean everything I say to you. You are everything to me. I don’t care if you’re awkward or different, it’s why I like you. You’re a good person, even if you can’t always articulate your thoughts. You’re beautiful, even if you don’t believe me when I say it. I would never lie to you. I would never say something I didn’t mean. You are my world. I like you just the way you are. I can be myself around you. We all make mistakes, we all slip up. I like how authentic you are. You’re never pretending to be someone you’re not. You’re perfectly imperfectly you and that’s why I love you.” He dropped his hand and placed it on your waist.

Your eyes widened. “W-What?” You asked, searching his eyes for any sense that he was lying. 

You couldn’t find any. 

“I love you.” He repeated. He pressed his lips against yours and when he pulled away he was smiling. “Just the way you are.”

You bit your lip and looked away, and in a moment of rare confidence, you looked him right in the eye. 

“I love you too, Jason.”