#Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Stone’s Throw

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: The night Jason wakes up in the convalescent home, he’s accompanied by his favorite nurse (Nurse Kathy). Nurse Kathy follows her instincts and decides to foster him in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. Soon, her partner and roommates become Jason’s new family despite hopes that he’ll regain his memories.

Chapters: 5/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Characters, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon

Additional Tags: Disabled Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Doesn’t Know Jason Todd is Alive, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Jason Todd Has a Foster Family AU, Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven, Original Asexual Characters, Original Lesbian Characters, Amnesiac Jason Todd, “Missed Him By That Much” Trope, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Five: Tale of Two K/Catherines

Sibyl brought Jason a sandwich while he studied everyone in the house. Daniel and Walter sat by the fire, and Dodie fell asleep on the couch. Everyone kept quiet, letting Jason get his bearings, but it only confused Jason more. He noticed no one else had a sandwich, so he took his, breaking it into sections, and he gave Kathy the first piece. “Oh no, Blue—.” Jason insisted. “Okay.” Kathy ate her piece and watched as Jason politely divvied it up between every person in the room. Sibyl left to make everyone another sandwich for Jason’s sake. 

Daniel glanced up from his sketchbook, looking at Jason, and he smiled. “Blue Eyes, look,” Daniel whispered as he showed Jason a sketch. Jason tapped his own chest, and Daniel smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna try to draw you with a few different haircuts to figure out your look when your hair grows back.” Jason leaned forward, touching foreheads with Daniel. Dodie stirred, chuckling at the odd picture of Jason pressing his forehead to Daniel’s. 

Jason smiled as a reflex to the innocent warmth of Dodie’s laugh. He nodded, turning his face away from Daniel, toward the fire. Sibyl brought him another sandwich, and he started to break it up, and she shook her head. “Nope, Blue Eyes. This one is all yours, hon. I made everyone else another sandwich. I’ll be right back with them,” Sibyl smiled. Everyone around him agreed, and he sat on a bench beside the fireplace and ate. Sibyl returned as promised. 

Dodie touched his forehead, trying to wake himself. Then, he started on a rough sketch for the exterior of his next development project. Jason finished his sandwich quickly, and he sat perfectly still with his plate on his lap. “Who are you working with for this one, Dodie?” Kathy questioned. 

“It’s part of a project to rebuild Gotham. Now that this whole No Man’s Land business is done with, we can move forward and start building a city worth living in. So, I’ve got this and the cape cod style houses,” Dodie answered. 

“The whole city?” Daniel asked. 

Dodie grinned. “Well, no… And yes. We’re all sort of drawing anything we can because of the extent of the work, and the big boss is giving projects to whoever makes the prettiest and most affordable pictures. I think it’s all a stupid game to pit everyone against each other in the office,” Dodie complained.

Kathy took Jason’s plate to the kitchen, and he got up and followed her. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to—.” Jason turned the sink on and took his plate from her. He looked at her with sad eyes, gesturing for her to sit at the island. She tried to insist, but she gave in when tears started to form in his eyes. Jason washed the dishes and dried them for her. After he finished putting them away, Jason walked over and moved a stray hair from her face. He nodded at her. “You did such a good job, Blue Eyes. Come here.” She opened her arms and embraced him. 

Jason couldn’t bear to see her at the sink for some reason. He couldn’t grasp at the memory, but he felt sick to his stomach at the thought of it. Jason wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. 

He wouldn’t lose her again. No. That feels wrong. Not again. He didn’t know her. He couldn’t know her. But the loss felt real. Thoughts and memories mixed. Nothing recognizable or coherent came from any of it. Katherine changing IVs. Catherine sick and dying. Katherine well and working in a hospital. Catherine hooked up to IVs. His happy memories of Catherine clung to his picture of Kathy, and his upsetting ones became little more than nightmares. If he could remember his name, he could make it all into something sensible, but none of it felt real. Awake and asleep at the same time. Maybe that’s what he’d always felt like, but… it wouldn’t feel so wrong if that was the case. 

Jason tried to speak, but the sound came out broken and emotional. “Aaaa,” Jason vocalized. He wanted to call her Mom. “Aaa. Aaaa.” 

“It’s alright, Blue Eyes. We’ll work on speech, but this is a good start,” Kathy reassured him. “Walter’s going to make soup tonight… And I’m going to take you to look at a school tomorrow. So, you have to go to bed early.” 

** 

Dodie left shortly after dinner, and Kathy ran Jason a bath. “Well, Blue Eyes… You’re all set. If you need anything, press this button,” Kathy explained as she pressed the button that hung around his neck. Her pager lit up and beeped on her belt loop. “If you need me, push that button, and I will come and get you. It doesn’t matter if it gets wet.” 

Jason nodded, his eyes never left her. “Okay, Blue Eyes. What do you do if you need my help? Show me,” Kathy requested. He pressed the button and her pager lit up and beeped. She kissed his forehead. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

Kathy shut the door on her way out, and she sat by the fire watching Sibyl do her bedtime yoga. “Any chance of me getting some cat-cow out of you tonight?” Sibyl joked. 

“Oh hush,” Kathy laughed, “Once I get Blue Eyes settled in tonight, anything’s possible. I’m so excited. This’ll be our first night together. This is going to be so neat.”

“Swell,” Sibyl teased as she pressed her lips against Kathy’s cheek. “You were right about him. He’s a doll… So polite. You’d think someone would’ve claimed him by now… Unless—. Kathy, do you think—?”

“I don’t know, but I’m taking him to the police station after school on Friday to see if they can get his dental records. And if they don’t have them, I’ll try again next week in Gotham instead. I can’t imagine him coming from anywhere else in Jersey,” Kathy whispered, “I should at least find out what his name is.”

** 

MONDAY MORNING IN BLÜDHAVEN

Kathy got up early, searching for Jason, and he was in the living room with Daniel eating oatmeal and watching TV. He was already dressed for school. “Is it good?” Daniel questioned. Jason nodded. “Thank you. Do you feel better now?” 

Jason nodded, turning his head toward Kathy, who thought he wouldn’t notice her. She waved, quietly joining them. “Hi, sleepyhead. Blue Eyes woke up looking for you,” Daniel whispered. 

“You got him ready for school?” Kathy asked as she placed a gentle hand behind Jason’s head. Jason leaned into her touch. 

He didn’t sleep well. He had nightmares about faceless figures with familiar forms. He finally gave up on sleep around four or five, searching for Kathy, but he found Daniel. He knocked on the door, and Daniel immediately knew something was wrong, so he stayed with Jason and did the same morning routine he used to do with Dodie. He drank his coffee while Jason finished eating. The little bit of hair on Jason’s buzzed head felt soft against the pads of her fingers. “Mhm… I like exercising early, so he was wonderful company,” Daniel answered. 

“Thank you, Daniel. I owe you,” Kathy replied, “Blue Eyes… Did you like exercising with Daniel?” Jason smiled. It felt familiar. Good familiar. Not conflicting or painfully nostalgic. Just good.

[gothamhappiness]

Don't hurt Red Hood, Batman! (Jason Todd x f!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, language, Batman is mean, mentions of fighting and wounds, reader got some nerves and aimed at Batman

You were living on Red Hood territory.

Actually you stayed in Gotham thanks to him. You felt safe thanks to him. Yes, he was the new crime lord in town, but women and children were off limit. Innocent people were off limit.

You knew Red Hood killed people but he killed bad people and kept innocent civilians safe. You weren’t for the killing, of course not. And yet you were grateful for what Red Hood was doing, for people like you. You weren't afraid to walk at night anymore.

The first time you saw Red Hood, he was arguing with Batman and Nightwing. Actually, Batman was fighting with Red Hood and Nightwing was in the middle, trying to stop them.

You didn’t really think before grabbing the small gun you had in your bag. And you were clearly out of your mind when you aimed at Batman.

"Leave him alone!" You screamed

The three men froze. You didn’t really think you would hurt anyone, you just felt better having a gun in your hand to face the dark knight

"Go away" Batman sternly told you and Nightwing moved his head to silently ask you to do the same

"No, you, go away. Leave Red Hood alone."

"What?" The three men muttered

"He is doing good for people like us. You don't give a shit about us, Batman. Go play with Harvey Dent or Oswald Cobleppot, and let Red Hood saves us from Black Mask and his goons." You stubornly replied

"Look..." Nightwing started but you cut him off

"You are both on his territory anyway" you said

"His territory? Wait you are in agreement with this?" Nightwing asked and you nodded instantly

"I live here, Red Hood keeps us safe without asking anything in return. He even feeds children of the street. What did you two do about it? Aren't you supposed to be in Blüdhaven, Nightwing, anyway?" You clearly knew no fear that night

Red Hood had sat down during the exchange, he was hurt but more importantly he was stunned that someone was actually taking his defense.

"He is a criminal" Batman finally said

"So are you" you replied

"He is trying to do justice by taking money from the goons and the prostitution. He is a crime lord, like all the others"

"What don't you understand in "He keeps us safe!". The money is always dirty in Gotham anyways." You justified Red Hood again

The silence following was defeaning. Batman made one step towards Red Hood, and you shot past his ear.

"It's a warning Batman, my mother taught me how to use guns against violent men" you threatened him

"Alright, let's go, Nightwing," Batman groaned. He didn't want to fight with a civilian

You watched them go before looking down at Red Hood, you felt the adrenaline slowly leaving your body and you felt a little bit sick. But aslo very proud of yourself. You smiled at the man who was still sat down on the ground.

"Are you alright? Do you need help with your wounds?" You asked

"What's your name, brave girl?" He asked in return

"Y/N" you said with a slight blush

"Y/N, thank you for making me happy for the first time in a very long time" Red Hood softly whispered to you

"Anything for you, Red" you smiled even more

[fluentmoviequoter]

Lost Time

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Jason comes home to you, his wife, after a mission and makes up for lost time.

Warnings: fluff and comfort! brief mention of the Lazarus Pit and human trafficking

Word Count: 1.3k+ words

A/N: I really want to write a lengthy oneshot for Jason but I don't know if I capture him well enough. I don't get many DC requests but I love them so much!!

Picture from Pinterest (WFA Jason >>>)

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

Jason Todd leaves, it’s what he does. Sometimes there are warnings, direct and indirect, but other nights he leaves while you sleep or simply doesn’t come home when he should. That’s who he is, what he does. There is more to Jason than meets the eye; he isn’t just Jason, Red Hood, or Bruce Wayne’s dead and nearly forgotten son. One piece of Jason makes him whole: being your husband brings him back, every single time. Jason leaves, but the time you spend alone is spent in confidence that he will come back to you, even if he’s broken and crawling.

While Jason is in Blüdhaven helping his brothers with a mission that Bruce doesn’t know about, you spend the time alone missing him. He hates leaving you, but you understand. That doesn’t mean, however, that you just wait for him to come home. Being married is supposed to be a 50/50 arrangement, yet you have given everything to Jason and there is not a single thing you wouldn’t do for him.

Tonight, nearly 96 hours after you last saw Jason, you make yourself comfortable with one of his books. The pages are yellowed from use, and highlights and notes fill the margins and the empty pages. Each word reminds you of Jason, and though you miss him, you refuse to look at his empty side of the bed. In the time since he left, promising to come back to you with a kiss and a tap to your wedding ring, you have read several of his books, cooked his favorite meal, and baked his favorite goodies. The distractions you created are all centered around Jason because despite what you tell yourself about needing to think about other things, Jason Todd takes up every single one of your thoughts. He’s captivating, and you never want to escape him.

Your phone beeps as you finish a page of Frankenstein. After taking a calming breath, you read the message from Barbara.

The bats are Gotham-bound.

The message makes you smile, and you rise from the bed to prepare for Jason’s return. He has come home without a scratch, drenched in blood, and everything in between. In sickness and health, you vowed, and you plan to keep it. With his favorite food already prepared and water heating in the kettle on the stove, you sit on the couch and wait for his entrance. The front door is behind you, and you watch as the Red Hood lands on your fire escape and expertly navigates into your home. His home.

The couch is empty by the time he turns from the now-closed window, and your arms loop around his waist as he moves. Jason chuckles at your immediate attention and pulls his helmet off.

“Miss me?” he asks.

You can hear his smile in his voice, and as Jason’s arms wrap around you, you sigh and release every fear and worry that had been pushed into the back of your mind.

“I need to shower,” Jason says, though he doesn’t move his hands from your back. “Blüdhaven is gross.”

“And Gotham is known for its cleanliness,” you argue.

“Get off,” Jason grumbles.

He raises his hands to your shoulders and easily pushes you back. You look at him as you raise your hands to hold his wrists. Jason’s gaze is soft and his touch is softer.

“Ten minutes,” he requests quietly.

“Someone needs pampering,” you tease. “Take your time. There’s food and tea if you want any.”

“Just wan’ you,” he murmurs.

Jason leans in and kisses your forehead quickly. He avoids your hands as you reach out for him. You laugh as he walks away, and the sound brings Jason home. He’s physically home, yes, but he is only home when you are completely and wholly with him.

The water echoes through the apartment as Jason enters the shower, and you prepare two mugs of tea before carrying them into the bedroom. You would wait forever for Jason, but as you lean back and close your eyes, content listening to him move through your shared home, you know that you’ll never have to wait long.

When Jason enters the bedroom clad in a pair of Wonder Woman sweatpants and smiles at you, everything seems better. The darkest Gotham day can’t cast a shadow on what you and Jason have. Before Jason left, he told you all you needed to know about the mission, and you won’t bring it up again. If he wants to talk about it, he will, and you’ll listen.

You raise the blanket as Jason approaches the side of the bed. He doesn’t hesitate to join you and pull you closer. After looping your arms over his shoulders, you push your fingers into Jason’s wet curls and twist them gently around your fingers. His white streak is closest to you, yet you concentrate your attention elsewhere to keep your eyes locked on his.

“You read it again, didn’t you?” Jason asks.

His eyes threaten to flutter closed, but he forces them open to talk to you.

“Read what?” you whisper.

“Tell me what I missed,” he requests.

You know he can see his books piled on your nightstand, but you enjoy the smile he gives you when you pretend not to know what he’s talking about. Jason pulls your hands away from his hair, opting to hold you against his side. You lay a hand over his heart and gently trace the bottom of a scar. You know his scars by heart, and each story behind them is ingrained in your memory.

“Not much,” you answer after a moment.

“Did you do anything? Because everything you do is important, and I want to hear about it,” Jason argues.

You lean closer and spread your fingers flat against his skin. His heart thrums steadily beneath your hand, and you think your heart beats in time with his.

“Maybe you just married me for the post-mission cuddles,” you say.

“Or maybe I just married you because I love you. I love you for accepting all of me and loving the parts that I don’t let anyone see.”

“Jason,” you hum.

“You didn’t tell me about what I missed,” he replies.

The first raindrop hits the window, and Jason is reminded that he’s back in Gotham. He’d move to Metropolis and listen to Clark as long as you were by his side, but being in your arms in his home town is a feeling unlike any other.

“I’ll take it you didn’t go to the manor,” you deflect.

“Why would I when I have a beautiful wife waiting at home for me and four days to make up for? Lost time with you will always be more important than Bruce.”

You sigh before you begin telling him about what you did. There isn’t much to tell. You read one of his books, cleaned, cooked, baked, and read another book.

“You baked?” Jason interrupts. “And didn’t bring it up until now?”

“I thought time with me was more important.”

Jason furrows his brows as he turns, pulling you to lay on top of him. When you first started dating, Jason was hesitant to initiate any sort of physical touch. Not long before, he had been Gotham’s most-feared crime lord and the rage caused by the pit was still present. Now, there is nothing to stop Jason from touching you: no fear of hurting you, no concern of scaring you away, and no doubt that you won’t love him once you see his darkest secrets. Jason’s scars, his past, and his nightly activities make him the man you love, and you love those parts of him, not the other way around.

As you cuddle with the man who recently scared human traffickers into turning themselves in to the authorities rather than running into him again, you simply enjoy being together. Your husband Jason and Red Hood Jason aren’t the same, yet you love them both equally.

“Do you really want to make up for lost time?” you ask over the rain.

Jason thinks your voice is more soothing and melodic than any rainstorm could dream of being. He pries his eyes open to answer, “Every second of it.”

You nod and lay your head against his chest. With your hearts pressed to one another and your fingers intertwined with Jason’s, you know that you are loved, and Jason knows you will always be here when he comes home.

You’re nearly asleep when you mumble, “’S a lotta time.”

Jason smiles but doesn’t move because he doesn’t want to disturb you. “Never enough time with you,” he whispers against your temple.

[enviedear]

･*:｡☃︎⁺₊❅. enviedear's winter wonderland

welcome to the winter wonderland! a time for candor and comfort—and fics that i hope you'll all enjoy! i just want to celebrate all of you that make this blog an absolute joy—by hyperfixating on something new every few months i’ve amassed so many lovelies from so many fandoms. i thought it was high time i did a little celebration with most of the characters i write for. think of it as my little gift to you—especially to the long term followers (crying w a smile)

without further ado...let's take a stroll through the winter wonderland ❆₊⋆𐂂 𖠰･⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

starts on december 4th until december 25th

week one — jason todd

baby—it's cold outside

after a mission goes horribly wrong, you get snowed in at a safehouse (rickety old cabin) with jason. you're both blaming each other for the failed mission, but the discovery that there's no firewood or heating has the two of you begrudgingly sharing body heat and blankets. OUT NOW !

christmas dreaming

when jason todd overhears your complaint about the town’s lackluster christmas trees, he takes it as a challenge. every day, he stops by your store with an update—always casual, always shrugging off your insistence that it’s unnecessary. but beneath the easy smiles and weather-worn jacket, jason is on a quiet mission.

for weeks, he’s combed through forests and farms, chasing the impossible—your perfect tree. and while he won’t admit it, this isn’t just about holiday spirit. it’s purely about you—and the way your smile might make the coldest december day feel warm. OUT NOW !

week two — dick grayson

love to keep me warm

dick grayson is your best friend, and has been since he moved to blüdhaven. you're more than familiar with taking trips to gotham with him, especially during the holidays! you've yet to miss one of bruce wayne's christmas galas—but this year is different. this year, you're hopelessly trying to hide the recent crush you've developed on your best friend. OUT NOW !

santa baby

to you, dick grayson might as well be santa claus. by day, he’s blüdhaven’s resident holiday hero, delivering toys to kids, lending a hand at soup kitchens, and visiting anyone spending the season alone. by night? well, nightwing doesn’t exactly take time off. you don’t mind him spreading christmas cheer—it’s one of the million reasons you fell for him—but when the twinkling lights and warm cocoa leave you longing for his touch, your thoughts start drifting toward a wish list of your own. all you want this year is him.

week three — jacaerys velaryon

walking in a winter wonderland

recently married and entrusted with the titles of lord and lady of dragonstone, jacaerys and you are adamant upon making the gloomy castle a respite for the winter. your plans falter, however, when the chill becomes too much for you. luckily, your husband is the blood of the dragon—and your own personal fireplace.

all i want for christmas—is you

the office is buzzing with holiday chaos, but you’ve got your own chaos. twelve days before christmas, a mysterious gift appears on your desk, and each morning brings another. thoughtful, perfect little things that make your heart race more than they should. it doesn’t take long for you to piece it together—jacaerys velaryon—isn’t as coy as he assumes. by christmas, you decide it’s time to return the favor. not with gifts, just with the words he’s been waiting to hear.

week four — the marauders

since we've no place to go—let it snow

at alice fortescue’s holiday party, you find james potter, your ex, sitting quietly by the fire. it’s been three years since you last saw him, but one heartfelt conversation—or atrocious snowstorm—just might be enough to glue the two of you back together.

a wonderful christmas time

single and surrounded by happy couples at your holiday trip is enough to send you spiraling. you feel like you're falling behind, and you're desperate enough to fall into an obvious tourist trap. it's said (the receptionist told you) that tying a red ribbon around a branch of the old oak during a snowfall will assure you a christmas miracle. only you don't find a miracle—just sirius black.

🗣️— + mystery bonus fics for the new year !!

can you guess for who?? hehe

🖇️ tags — if you want to be added to the taglist for this celebration, just comment below

[444st4rg1rl]

→ Decathect (v); To withdraw one’s self from someone you think you’re going to loose

→ Jason Todd x f!reader, 5k words

- Tags → Slowburn, (little bit) angst, frenemies to ???, ‘Hey we kinda know each other bc you work with my brother but we don’t mention it’, pinning, violence, more violence, reader just wants to figure shit out, this is the build up for part 2 guys.

- synopsis → You and Hood never really spoke much before, but when he comes in your territory to take down the corrupt ex-cop you’re both after; you don’t have much of a choice.

Part 1 , Part 2

Written in collaboration with - @samiyahcc

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Blüdhaven’s sky was choked with a layer of gray clouds, streets slick with the aftermath of last night’s rain, reflecting the neon lights from dive bars and the scattered police sirens in the distance. The air had a familiar heaviness.

You crouched in the shadows of an alleyway, eyes scanning the rundown warehouse ahead. Your breath was steady, each exhale visible in the cool night air.

The dim light of a flickering streetlamp cast harsh shadows across your face, revealing the half-mask that covered your lower face, the rest hidden beneath your hood. The sleek black fabric clung to your frame, reinforced with armor plating at your shoulders and forearms. Your boots silent against the wet concrete, moving as if you were a shadow itself.

You’d been tracking the local gangs’ movements for days now, and it had led you here. The syndicate was rumored to be involved in something big tonight—something that would send ripples through Blüdhaven’s underworld.

You weren't one for brute force; you preferred to gather intel first, to understand the scope before diving in. But tonight was different. Tonight, you’d finally get a look at the men behind the strings, and if things went according to plan, they’d never know you were there.

You adjusted your gloves, checking the weapons hidden beneath your jacket—a few smoke pellets, a set of throwing knives, a grappling hook—and then moved forward. Your footsteps were quiet, calculated.

The warehouse door was slightly ajar, a sliver of light spilling out. You could make out figures inside, though they were still too far for a clear shot. A low hum of conversation and the occasional clink of metal on metal echoed through the air.

Just as you were about to step closer, a voice cut through the air, low and gritty - unmistakable.

“I knew you’d show up.”

You froze.

Your hand instinctively reached for a throwing knife. Red Hood had a reputation—a violent, unpredictable, vigilante who didn’t care for rules, and certainly didn’t care for working with anyone. You’d heard of him, seen his work. He was exactly the kind of person Blüdhaven didn’t need—yet he seemed to be everywhere lately.

You lowered your knife but stayed hidden. You could feel your pulse quicken, a mix of irritation and something else—something you couldn’t quite place.

“Did’ya really think you’d get all the way in without me noticing?” Red Hood’s voice came again, closer this time. “You’re not as quiet as you think.”

From the darkness, he stepped into the dim light of the alley, his silhouette framed by the faint neon glow of a nearby sign. He was taller than you, broad-shouldered in his combat gear, his red helmet glinting under the light.

“You’re getting sloppy, doll,” Hood added, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thought you were smarter than this.”

You clenched your jaw. “Is that so?” you asked, your voice low.. “What are you doing here, Hood?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he shot back. “I’m here for the syndicate. Same as you, I imagine. Only difference is, I don’t waste my time with intel gathering.”

“Gotham not have anymore crime?” You ask suspiciously, confused on why Hood has been in your territory recently.

“Gothams’ crime has run into Blüdhaven, I’m not here for you.” He shoots back quickly, defensively.

“Funny, I didn’t see you at the docks last week,” you replied, eyeing him. “You must have missed that shipment of weapons they moved.”

Hood’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, the air between the two of you crackled with a familiar tension. You could feel the weight of his gaze through the glass of his helmet—sharp, as if he were looking right through you.

“I don’t play by your rules,” he finally responded, voice low and firm.

“You’re better off staying out of this.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “I don’t think I have that luxury, do I? Seems like we’re after the same thing, Hood. That ex-cop, the one behind this syndicate. You’ve been after him, haven’t you?”

For a brief moment, there was a flicker of something in Jason’s eyes—recognition, perhaps, or something darker, something angry—but it was gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

“That’s none of your business,” he growled, taking a step closer.

“You’re treading in dangerous waters. You’re better off going back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

You didn’t flinch, standing your ground. “Last I checked, you were in my territory, Hood. If you want to get to the top of this syndicate, you’ll need more than just your ego.”

Hood was silent for a moment, weighing his options. He didn’t trust you—that was obvious. But you knew things he didn’t, and that could make you a valuable asset.

“Fine,” his voice was quiet and measured. “We’re doing this my way,” his voice rumbled through the helmet, closing the distance between you.

“Understand?”

You nodded at him avoiding tilting your head up, your stance relaxed but alert. “Sure. Your way. Just try not to get in my way.”

For a brief second, your eyes met. The moment passed as quickly as it came, and Hood turned back toward the warehouse. “Follow my lead.”

Without a word, you followed him into the shadows.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Inside the warehouse, the air was thick and stale, the faint smell of rust and mildew clinging to every breath. Stacks of crates lined the walls, some labeled with fading, cryptic codes, others bearing the marks of rough handling.

Flickering bulbs swung from the rafters, casting shadows across the cracked concrete floor. The occasional drip of water echoed through the space, a steady metronome to the tension building between you and Hood.

Hood moved first, his steps quiet but purposeful, his frame blending into the shadows. You followed, slipping through the darkness with a practiced ease.

You stayed just a step behind, close enough to catch his scent—a faint mix of leather and gunpowder—and notice the subtle shifts in his posture as he scanned the space.

He stopped suddenly, crouching behind a stack of crates near the center of the warehouse. You mirrored his movement, your gloved hands pressing lightly against the cool concrete as she leaned forward to peer around the edge.

“Three men,” Jason murmured. “One at the desk, two near the loading dock. Armed.”

You squinted, sharp eyes picking out the figures he described. The man at the desk was hunched over something—papers, maybe—while the others paced near the dock, rifles slung over their shoulders.

“Light security,” you whispered back, “This isn’t their main operation. They’re protecting something important, though. Look at the crates near the desk.”

His gaze flicked to the area you indicated - several smaller boxes sat stacked haphazardly, their edges pristine and their surfaces marked with the logo of a well-known tech company.

“Smuggling high-end gear,” Hood muttered. “Looks like someone’s got a taste for expensive toys.”

“Could be weapon components,” you added, brows furrowing. “Or surveillance tech. Either way, they’re funneling it somewhere.”

“Why don’t we ask them ourselves?”

Before you could respond, he moved.

Red Hood was fast—faster than you’d anticipated for someone his size. He surged forward, vaulting over the crates. You hesitated for only a moment, cursing under your breath as you followed, your movements far more careful.

The man at the desk barely had time to react before Hood’s boot connected with the edge of the table, flipping it sideways and scattering the papers into the air.

The man stumbled backward, hand fumbling for his sidearm, but Hood’s fist found his jaw first, dropping him onto the concrete floor with a single strike.

“Shit!” one of the men near the dock shouted, raising his rifle.

You moved in before he could fire, sliding low, your leg sweeping out to knock his feet from under him. As he hit the ground, you twisted, driving your elbow into abdomen. The rifle clattered away, and you snatched it up, dismantling it with a practiced ease before tossing the pieces aside.

The third man bolted for the nearest exit, but Hood was already on him. He grabbed the thug by the back of his collar, yanking him off his feet and slamming him into the nearest wall.

“Where’s your boss?” he growled, his voice cold.

The man choked out something unintelligible, hands scrabbling at Red Hood’s grip.

“Speak up,” Hood demanded, pushing him further into the wall.

“Wait.”

You stepped forward, placing a hand lightly on Hood’s forearm. “Let me talk to him.”

Hood glanced at you, his helmet betraying no emotion, but you could feel his hesitation. He let go, stepping back and crossing his arms as you turned your attention to the trembling man.

You crouched slightly, bringing yourself to eye level with him. Your voice was calm, almost soothing.

“You don’t want to die here tonight,” you said quietly. “And you definitely don’t want him to get involved again. So why don’t you make this easy on yourself and tell me what’s in those crates?”

The man swallowed hard, his eyes darting between you and Hood. “I-I don’t know exactly,” he managed to stammer out. “Some kind of equipment - High-end stuff! We’re just supposed to hold it here until the next pickup.”

You nodded. “And who’s picking it up?”

He hesitated, eyes darting between you and Hood, and you leaned in closer - voice dropping to a whisper. “If you lie to me, he’ll know. And I won’t stop him next time.”

“Rogers!” the man blurted out. “Detective Rogers. He’s the one running the whole thing.”

Hood stiffened at the name, fists clenching at his sides.

“Rogers?” You echoed, “Blüdhaven PD’s Detective Rogers?”

The man nodded frantically. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s him. He’s supposed to be here tomorrow night to check on the shipment.”

Hood stepped forward, looming over the man. “Where?”

“Here!” the man yelped. “He’s coming here!”

Hood’s hand shot out, gripping the man’s collar again. “If you’re lying—”

“I’m not!” he cried. “I swear!”

You placed a hand on Hood’s shoulder again, keeping your touch firm but not forceful. “That’s enough,” you said quietly. “He’s telling the truth.”

Hood released the man with a shove, sending him sprawling to the ground. He turned away, his shoulders tense and his breathing heavy.

You watched him for a moment, thoughts racing. Rogers. The name brought back memories you’d rather forget - memories of corruption, betrayal - and the realization that the system you’d once believed in was irreparably broken.

“He’s mine,” Hood said suddenly, his voice low.

You met his gaze, your expression unreadable. “We’ll see.” Without another word, Hood turned away, heading toward the crates.

You followed, mind already calculating your next move. You couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The warehouse was empty now, silence broken by the faint groans of the man Jason had left sprawled against the floor.

You were silent as you crouched down toward the crates, gloved fingers tracing the faint logo embossed into the wood. You could feel Hood’s presence behind you—he was impossible to ignore, even when he wasn’t speaking. His quiet contemplation filled the space.

“Rogers,” Jason muttered the name like a curse.

You turned your head slightly to glance at him. He was leaning against one of the crates, helmet tilted down just enough to cast a shadow. But you didn’t need to see his expression to know what he was thinking.

“You’ve got history with him,” you muttered - more of a statement than a question.

Jason scoffed. “You could say that.”

You stood, brushing off your gloves. “Care to share?”

As he turned his gaze back towards you, you could feel the weight of it, sharp and probing. “I don’t do story time, doll. Especially not with someone I don’t trust.”

You folded your arms. “Funny. You trusted me enough to let me handle that guy back there.”

Jason’s lips curved into a smile you couldn’t see, but was apparent in his voice. “Let’s not get carried away. I just wanted to see if you’d screw it up.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the crates. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re nosy,” he shot back, stepping closer. “What’s your deal with Rogers? You knew his name the second that guy said it.”

Your jaw tightened. “It’s personal.”

“Isn’t it always?” Hood quipped, his tone lighter now but still edged with curiosity.

You turned to face him fully, hood falling back slightly to reveal more of her face. Your eyes locked onto the crimson metallic mask, and for a moment, you considered not answering.

But there was something in his posture, the way he leaned forward just slightly, that told you he wasn’t asking just to push your buttons.

“Rogers was one of the reasons I left Blüdhaven PD,” you said quietly, your voice steady but quieter now. “He was dirty, feeding intel to the syndicate while pretending to be one of the good guys. I couldn’t prove it at the time, but I knew. And when I pushed too hard, he made sure I was… encouraged to leave.”

Jason was silent for a moment, head tilting slightly as he studied you. “That’s why you’re doing this? The whole brooding in the dark with a mask thing?”

You shook your head. “No. That’s - that’s different. He’s just… unfinished business.”

Hood took another step closer, close enough now that you could see the faint scuff marks on his helmet and the gleam of his armor in the dim light. He was watching you intently, and it suddenly became much harder to keep your breathing steady.

It was moment’s like this - when he was quietly analyzing you - that you noticed just how easily he dwarfed your figure.

“Unfinished business has a way of getting messy,” he said, his voice low but no less intense.

You didn’t reply right away, your gaze drifting to the floor for just a second before snapping back to him. “I don’t need your advice, Hood.”

“No, but you're going to want my help,” he countered, his tone almost teasing.

The silence stretched between the two of you. You could feel the tension building, the kind that wasn’t just about your mission or uneasy alliance. It was something else, something unspoken that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

Hood shifted his weight slightly, arm brushing against yours. The contact was brief, barely there, but it sent a jolt through you that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced up, startled, and found that he was already staring at you.

For a moment, the world outside the warehouse seemed to fade away. You were acutely aware of how close you were, the faint rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the way his broad shoulders seemed to take up more space than they should.

“You should keep your distance,” Hood muttered quietly, dipping his head to your level.

Your lips curved into a faint smirk, though your voice wavered just slightly. “You’re the one standing too close.”

He didn’t move. Neither did you.

You could feel your heartbeat picking up, could see the subtle tension in his posture. He wasn’t backing down, and for some reason, you didn’t want him to.

“What are you afraid of?” you asked tentatively, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Hood’s helmet tilted just slightly, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You think I’m afraid of you?”

“No,” you said, voice unsteady. “But you’re afraid of something.”

His jaw tightened beneath the helmet, and for a second, you thought he might push you away—end the moment before it could spiral into something you’d both regret.

Instead, he leaned in closer - close enough that you couldn’t help but inhale the familiar scent of his leather jacket. He had to know what this was doing to you. His own posture had shifted, no longer angry and closed off, but tense - almost eager. His voice was so low it was almost a growl.

“I’m not afraid. I’m just not stupid.”

“You’re infuriating,” is all you could manage to whisper.

“And you’re stubborn,” the grin behind his helmet apparent in his voice.

The moment broke when a loud crash echoed from deeper in the warehouse, snapping you both back to reality. Hood straightened immediately, hand moving toward his weapon as his body shifted back into a defensive stance.

You cursed under you breath, pulling your hood back up as you turned toward the sound. The moment was gone, but the weight of it lingered, hanging in the air between you two.

“Up ahead,” he said abruptly.

You nodded, expression unreadable as you moved ahead. Yet as you walked, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder, catching Hood lingering for just a second longer than he needed to.

The noise echoed again, sharp and deliberate this time, as if whoever was responsible wanted to be heard. You froze mid-step, ears straining for any further sound. Hood was already moving, his gun in hand as he took the lead without so much as a glance back.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, his voice low but firm.

You bristled at the command. “I don’t take orders from you, Hood.”

He shot you a look over his shoulder, the faint glint of light catching on the edge of his helmet. “Fine. Walk in front, then. Let me know how that works out.”

Gritting your teeth, you relented, falling in behind him as you both crept toward the source of the sound. The back of the warehouse was darker, with fewer working lights, and the shadows seemed to deepen with every step they took.

“You think it’s Rogers?” you whispered, lost in thought of him. Trying to connect the dots.

“Too early,” Hood replied, his eyes scanning the rows of crates and shelving units ahead. “Might be someone who got spooked and came back to clean up.”

“Or set a trap,” you added grimly.

He didn’t respond, but the way his shoulders tensed told you he was already thinking the same thing.

As you both rounded the corner, a figure darted into view, disappearing between two towering stacks of crates. You caught the faint glint of metal in their hand—something sharp, maybe a knife or a crowbar.

“Split up,” Hood muttered, moving to the left without waiting for your agreement.

You hesitated for only a second before veering right, movements silent as you followed the figure’s trail. The dim light made it harder to see, but you could still make out faint scratch marks on the floor, signs of hurried movement.

You caught up with the figure near the far wall, where a series of smaller crates were stacked precariously. The person—male, early thirties, scruffy—was fumbling with one of the boxes, trying to pry it open with a crowbar.

“Hey,” you said sharply, stepping out of the shadows.

The man froze, the crowbar slipping from his hands and clattering to the ground. He turned slowly, his face pale and his eyes wide with panic.

“I-I didn’t see anything,” he stammered, holding up his hands. “I swear, I was just—”

“Save it,” you cut him off, stepping closer. “You’re trespassing in a warehouse full of illegal tech. I don’t think you’re here for the view.”

The man opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say a word, Hood appeared behind him, his gun pressed firmly against the back of his head.

“She’s not much for small talk,” Hood said, his tone casual but dangerous. “So why don’t you skip the excuses and tell us what you’re doing here?”

The man whimpered, his knees buckling slightly. “I-I just came back for something I left! That’s all, I swear!”

Hood rolled his shoulders, the movement causing his leather jacket to make a shrill sound. “Try again.”

“I’m serious!” the man cried, his voice cracking. “It was just a personal stash! I don’t even know what they use this warehouse for!”

You stepped closer, sharp eyes narrowing. “What kind of stash?”

The man hesitated, his gaze darting between you and Hood. “Cash,” he finally admitted. “I hid some cash here a while back. I didn’t think anyone would notice if I came back for it.”

Hood scoffed. “You expect us to believe that?”

“I don’t care if you believe me!” the man snapped, though his voice wavered with fear. “It’s the truth!”

You tilted your head, studying him. He didn’t seem like much of a threat—desperate and sloppy, sure, but not connected to Rogers or the shipment. Still, his sudden presence complicated things.

Hood seemed to reach the same conclusion. With a low growl, he stepped back, lowering his gun but keeping it in hand. “Get out of here,” he said coldly. “And if I see you again, I won’t be so nice.”

The man didn’t need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet and bolted for the nearest exit, tripping over a loose plank on his way but not stopping to look back.

You exhaled, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Think he was telling the truth?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, slipping his gun back into its holster. “He’s not our problem.”

You nodded, though a part of you wasn’t entirely convinced. Something about the man’s presence felt… off, but it was less of a problem to worry about.

Hood turned to face you fully, arms crossed, “You okay?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I can handle one panicked idiot with a pipe, thanks.”

“That’s not what I meant,” his voice was softer now.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his tone. You hesitated, gaze trying to search his mask for any sign of what he really meant.

“I’m fine,” you said finally, though the words felt hollow.

Hood didn’t press it, but the way he looked at you—like he could see through every wall you’d built—it made your stomach twist.

“You don’t have to go after him alone,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. The words were simple, but they carried a weight that felt almost unbearable.

“I’ve been doing this alone for a long time,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Hood took a step closer, his hand almost brushing against yours before he caught himself and pulled back. “Maybe that’s the problem.”

The silence between you stretched again, heavy and charged. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you hated how badly he affected you like this—that his words, his presence, could make you feel things you’d tried so hard to bury.

“We should focus on Rogers,” you said finally, tone sharper than intended.

Hood’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

You moved toward the crates together, the air between you thick with everything left unsaid.

The night darkened as you and Hood pushed further into the warehouse. The air smelled of rust and oil, a heavy, suffocating scent that clung to everything.

Rogers had to be here—you’d pieced together too many clues for him to slip away again. Hood led the way, his boots thudding against the concrete floor, while you moved beside him, breathing steady and shallow.

You kept glancing his way, mind running in circles. It was the way he carried himself, the way his voice had softened earlier, how he'd almost reached out to you…You shook the thoughts away. There was no time for this now.

"Back corner," he whispered, jerking his head toward a section of the warehouse illuminated by flickering yellow lights. You nodded and followed. As the two of you approached, muffled voices grew louder.

You peeked around the corner to see Rogers standing with two armed men near a stack of crates. His slicked-back hair gleamed under the weak light as he gestured angrily toward one of the crates, barking orders.

"Looks like he brought backup," you murmured. Hood smirked faintly, pulling out one of his pistols.

"Doesn't matter. I'll take left; you handle the right."

"You always this bossy?"

"Only when it works," he replied, his tone playful. Without waiting for your reply, he crept forward, disappearing into the shadows. You hesitated for only a moment before slipping into position on the opposite side.

The plan was simple: take out Rogers' guards silently and leave him exposed. But things never went according to plan. One of the guards shifted just as you lunged forward, his boot scraping loudly against the floor. The noise made the other guard whip around, his hand going for his gun.

"Fuck," you hissed as you tackled the first man, driving your knee into his ribs before slamming him to the ground.

A gunshot rang out, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Hood had already taken down his target, but now the second guard had him pinned, a knife glinting dangerously in the dim light. You didn't think - you just moved.

You hurled one of your throwing knives, the blade embedding itself in the guard's shoulder. He cried out and stumbled, giving Hood just enough time to twist free and knock him unconscious with the butt of his gun.

"Could've handled that," he muttered, shooting you a glance.

"You're welcome," you shot back, pulling your knife free from the guard's shoulder.

The commotion had drawn Rogers' attention. He was already backing toward an exit, his face pale but determined.

"Where you goin?", Jason growled, raising his gun. Rogers froze, his hands slowly lifting in mock surrender.

"Easy, Hood. We're all friends here, right?"

Hood's finger twitched on the trigger. "You've got about five seconds to explain why I shouldn't-"

A sudden burst of movement cut him off. One of the unconscious guards, barely conscious now, had reached for a detonator lying nearby. You saw it before Hood did.

"Quick, get down!" You lunged forward, grabbing Hood by the arm and pulling him to the ground just as the detonator clicked.

A deafening explosion tore through the air, sending crates flying and plunging the warehouse into chaos. The force of the blast threw the both of you against a wall.

Your head slammed into the concrete, and for a moment, the world spun. You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the ringing in your ears. Hood was already on his feet, blood dripping from the bottom of his helmet.

His eyes scanned the debris and searched for you through the fog. As his eyes finally found yours, he rushed towards you, hands firmly grabbing your arms. Before he could even ask you managed to say,

"I'm fine," though your vision was still swimming, a throbbing pain in the back of your head. Rogers was making his escape now, limping toward a side door with a hand clutching his side.

Hood swore under his breath, his movements slower than usual as he sprinted after him.

You pushed yourself up, your body protesting every step as you followed. By the time you caught up, Hood had Rogers cornered in a narrow hallway, his gun trained on the man's chest.

"You don't get to walk away," Hood snarled, his voice low and gritty.

Rogers laughed weakly, face twisted in pain. "You think killing me solves anything? I'm just a cog in the machine, Hood. Take me out, and someone worse will take my place."

His hand trembled slightly, gun wavering. You stepped closer, gaze flicking between the two men.

"Hey," you said quietly to Hood, voice cutting through the tension. "This isn't about him. It's about shutting this whole operation down."

He didn't look at you, but you could see the conflict in his posture, the way his jaw tightened. Hood’s hand trembled slightly as you stepped closer - and, finally, with a frustrated growl, he lowered the gun and slammed the butt of it against Rogers' head, knocking him unconscious.

"He's not worth the bullet," Hood muttered. You exhaled in relief, but the moment was short-lived. A fresh wave of armed men burst into the hallway, shouting orders as they raised their weapons.

"Move!" Hood shouted, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back toward the main floor.

The next few minutes were a blur of gunfire and shouting. Hood covered their retreat, his aim precise despite his injuries, while you did your best to fight off anyone who got too close. They ducked behind crates, weaving through the chaos as the sound of reinforcements grew louder.

Hood’s movements slowed as he noticed blood seeping from a wound on his side, his breathing labored. You saw him falter and immediately doubled back, throwing yourself between him and the attackers.

"Go!" you shouted. "I got it!"

He glared at you but didn't have the energy to argue. He stumbled toward an exit, leaving you to hold off the remaining men.

You fought like a woman possessed, blades flashing in the dim light. But even you couldn't keep it up forever. Just as one of the men raised his gun, Hood reappeared, slamming into him with enough force to knock him out cold.

"Thought I told you to go," you muttered as you helped him limp toward the exit.

"And miss saving your ass?" he shot back, his smirk faint but genuine.

The two of you finally burst out into the open air, collapsing against the side of the building as sirens blared in the distance. Hood was slumped against the wall, his breathing was labored and wavered.

"You're an idiot," you said, tone harsh but it was an empty insult, as you checked his wound.

“Back at you" he replied, voice heavy.

The tension from earlier returned, heavier now with the weight of everything you two had just been through. Your hands stilled against his side, your breath catching as you realized how close you were.

"Don't," he warned, though his voice was quieter now, almost pleading.

"I'm not doing anything," you whispered, gaze locked on his, staring at your reflection. With a quiet sigh, you pulled back, breaking the moment.

"Let's get out of here," your voice came out unsteady. He nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for just a second longer. "Yeah, c’mon.”

[ravenna-reid]

The Tortured and the Test Subject

Jason Todd x Cadmus Test Subject Reader

This one is a lil different to what I usually do. A mix of what happened to Super Boy in Young Justice (Cadmus Labs) and Eleven in Stranger Things. But I hope you all like it anyways <3 Pls lmk if you would be interested in a Part 2!

Warnings -- swearing, mentions of death and torture

The deafening sound of a distant motorcycle reverberated off of the walls of the batcave. As the tires screeched and the smell of rubber filled the air, Jason came to a stop, turned it off and held his helmet in his hand. Looking around, the batcave was eerily quiet and empty.

“Hey Bruce, you in here?”

The only thing that answered him was the echo of his own voice. And the sound of soft shuffling against material and a faint, constant beep. Weary of his surroundings, and what crazy things he might find in this cave, Jason edged in the direction it came from. As he walked past one of Bruce’s large technological whatevers and turned the corner, he froze in his tracks. 

Lying on one of the med beds, with restraints strapped on her arms, legs, and across her stomach, was one of the most stunning girls Jason had ever seen. Skin like porcelain and dark eyelashes fanning over her cheeks. She was dressed in some sort of grey jumpsuit, the numbers 09714 embroidered near her left shoulder. But there was one key detail that really stood out to Jason. The white streak that ran through her hair. Pulling his eyes away from it, Jason looked over at the machines she was hooked up to, each one of them saying that she had no heartbeat. No breath. Nothing in her at all. An unsettling sensation instantly washed over him as he dared to creep closer. 

“Jason.”

With widened eyes, Jason whirled around to find Bruce standing behind him, dressed in his Batman suit with his mask off. Hardened expression painted across his face, Bruce seemed completely unfazed with having a dead woman in the batcave. 

“Bruce, who the hell is this?” Jason asked, voice accusatory and brows furrowed. 

Ignoring him, Bruce moved past Jason over to his many computers. He brought up images of what seemed to be a secret lab – another Cadmus Lab Jason realised – and it looked like it was in Blüdhaven. Dozens of police cars were parked outside of the building, the lab disguised as an industrial factory. 

“Dick had been working with others to locate another hidden Cadmus Lab and bring it down. Once they’d broken in and detained the scientists running it, he and Starfire tried to save as many as they could. Including her.”

Bruce brought up an image of the girl that lied motionless behind them. Eyes bright and gleaming, a soft smile gracing her face. Jason took every detail in. 

“They were running some kind of tests on her. I’m still not sure what. But interestingly enough, once Dick and his team entered the facility, remaining scientists quickly let off some sort of knockdown gas in her cell.” Bruce let out a deep sigh as he turned back to face her. “All I know is that she was their only successful test subject. And that even though she is alive, technically, she’s dead.”

Jason’s stomach dropped down to his feet.

“What?” What the actual fuck. Could the Lazarus Pit be involved? No, because his heart was still beating, whereas hers….

In that moment, the restraints attached to her began to rattle against the steel of the med bed. Turning to look at you, Jason watched as you began to stir from your deep slumber, his eager eyes looking between you and the machines that were telling him you were dead. 

“I guess we’re about to find out what she’s capable of. I’m going to go get Dick, stay here and watch her.”

“What? Bruce, no. I just came here to –” It was pointless finishing his sentence, Bruce was already gone. 

A soft hum came from you, and all Jason could do was watch and wait. Suddenly your eyes flew open. Large and bright, intensely taking in your surroundings. You began to try and move your arms and legs against the restraints to no avail. Jason wanted to say something, but what would he even say?

Suddenly, your focus settled onto him and something got caught in his throat. Silence enveloped the room until he forced himself to speak.

“Finally decided to wake up, huh?”

All it took was a single breath. A single blink of his eyes and suddenly you had torn off all of your restraints, were on your feet and had him pinned against the wall. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, shocked by your immense strength. Your touch was ice cold and unforgiving, your glare just as harrowing. 

“Who are you?” You snapped, your face just inches from Jason’s. 

“Usually, I’d ask you out on a date before letting you get this close to me.” He strained. 

Your glare faltered, a confused frown occupying your face now. 

“You’re mocking me?” Your grip tightened on his shirt. 

“No, no I wasn’t mocking you.” He began. Jason searched for a distraction. Searched for something else to say to you, anything. “Do you remember what happened? Remember Cadmus?” 

The mention of that place obviously struck a nerve. A glint of fear quickly passed through your eyes and Jason felt a tinge of sympathy. What the hell did they do to you in there?

“I’m not there?” You asked.

“No, you’re not. You're safe now.” Jason’s breathing mellowed out a bit as he watched the gears in your head turn. As he watched you hang off of every word he said. 

“Are you going to take me back there?” 

“No, I promise. But I’m going to need you to answer a few questions. for me and --” 

Your glare was back, and this time you came in even closer, your breath fanning his face. His heart skipped several beats.

“Swear it. Swear you won’t hand me back over to them.” 

“Cadmus is destroyed. Everyone that worked for them is going to prison.”

He could tell his answer wasn’t enough. Jason brought his hand up to where his heart was, and made a cross over the fabric of his shirt with his index finger.

“Swear on my mothers grave.�� 

Looking down at the shirt you held onto, you saw an array of silver streaks on his skin peek out from behind it. Scars. 

And for some reason, you felt you could trust him. That if anyone could ever be able to understand what you had been through, it was him. You had no idea why.

After that, Dick and Bruce had returned, astounded to see the restraints on the floor and you holding Jason against the wall. Bruce tried to be rational with you and Dick tried to work his sympathetic charm, but your eyes remained on Jason.  They all sat around you now as you fiddled with the sleeves of your jumpsuit.

“We just wanna know what they were doing at that lab. Doing to you.” Jason asked, and you didn’t seem to mind how blunt he was. 

So you told them everything. How you’d been taken in when you were 18. How they were eager to see whether or not they could create a metahuman. Or at least turn a born human into one. How the tests were torturous, and how you ended up developing a few abilities thanks to the chemicals that they had pumped in you. Of course, it resulted in you dying and coming back to life... However, your vital organs were no more. No more breathing. No more blood rushing through your body. You tried to ignore that part. Tried to romanticise it by telling yourself you were like the vampires from the shows you watched in high school now. 

“So, superhuman strength? Durability?” Bruce began as he took notes. 

“It’s hard for me to die.” You added, another unique ability you knew you had. Neither of the bat boys wanted to know how you knew that. 

“But I can also heal. That’s all though.”

A silence settled over the room like a weighted blanket. Jason watched you and couldn’t help but feel like he could understand you on some sort of level. Understand how it felt to be tortured for so many days on end. To have someone try to turn you into something you’re not. And becoming successful in doing so. Jason was also pretty pissed that Dick was the one who found those assholes working at Cadmus, cause if it was him, he would have killed every last one of them for what they did. 

Bruce’s gaze settled on you and the boys knew it all too well. It was his pity look. It was the look he gave when he was about to say something that would be better left unsaid.

“Do you know how long you were there for?” He asked.

You shook your head, almost not wanting to know the answer. “No.” 

“Based on the information I retrieved from their database, you've been stuck in Cadmus for almost three years. You’re turning 21 in four days.”

You closed your eyes, the realisation of how long it’d been since you left that damn building hitting you like a truck. You could feel the hot tears sneak up on you as they made their way to your eyes, but fought hard to suppress them. After a moment to yourself, a shaky breath left your body. 

“Hey, it’s ok. At least you're out now! You’re free y/n.” Dick began. 

A pain so deep and fervent began in Jason’s chest. A pain he hadn’t felt since Bruce betrayed him and replaced him with Tim.

Jason got to his feet and Bruce and Dick’s eyes followed him. 

“Come on, we don’t need to discuss this anymore. We have all that we need.”

“Jason –”

He cut Bruce off. “No Bruce. She just woke up. She probably hasn’t even seen the sun since she was taken to that hellhole. Just give her a break for a second.”

Dick’s mouth almost fell open, his eyes meeting with Bruce’s.

“Alright.” Bruce replied coolly, intrigued by how Jason was handling the situation. ‘Mr. doesn’t want to be involved.’ ‘Mr. revenge and hate.’ 

You sat nimbly though, lost in your thoughts and eyes trained on the floor before you spoke up. “I don’t have anywhere to go.” 

You fought for the memory that was buried deep at the back of your mind. “I’m an orphan. I was staying in dorms…I was there for just one week.”

“It’s alright, you can stay here.” Bruce concluded, and with that, he got up and left, preparing for another night of patrol.

“Hey,” Your eyes flickered over to the boy who had similar hair to you as Jason grabbed your attention. Dick simply sat back and watched. “I can show you around if you want?” 

You gave a nod before both you and Jason left the batcave so that he could take you to Wayne Manor. So he could take you to your new home.

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

Why doesn't Batfam age? Because they're vampires, all of them except Damian Wayne

Let me explain:

Everything starts years ago when Dick moved to Blüdhaven, he found the Vampire court there and - in one failed mission - he becomes one

Dick starts living as a vampire and adapts himself very well to his new life, Bruce dislikes it and both argue a lot

Dick tries to convince Bruce that becoming a vampire is a good choice, being Batman is not enough, Bruce is still a human, one day he will become old and the city will still need Batman. Bruce needs to do more. Be more. But Bruce rejected this idea and did not become a vampire.

Tiny Jason then shows up, canon stuff happens and then Jason died

This destroys Bruce, "if I listen Dick, Jason could be alive now" he blames himself, guilt eating him inside, Jason could be alive if Bruce was not a coward, if Bruce was a vampire he could save Jason. Jason died because he was weak

And Bruce doesn't want to be weak anymore

Dick then turns Bruce into a vampire days after Jason's funeral

Alfred also becomes a vampire that night, both by Dick

When Tim shows up Bruce is already a vampire, he rejected Tim in the start but afraid to lose Tim in the same way he loses Jason, he asked if Tim wants to become a vampire as well

Tim, desperate for acceptance and to be part of something important, accept

Bruce bites Tim and turns him into a vampire

When Stephanie appears, she automatically refuses the invitation, "you're not my dad, Batman"

Unfortunately, after her incident with Black Mask, Bruce bites her against her will

Bruce finds her covered in blood, pale and breathing weakly. Almost dying. He's losing a child again. Something he promised would never happen again. But then Stephanie is dying. Desperate to save that child and redeem himself, Bruce bites her

Stephanie was very hurt by this and moved away from vigilantism for a while to adapt to her new life. This cursed.

Surprising Cassandra accepts without hesitation, no one really understands her reasons for accepting this

Cass has a slight adjustment problem at first, but she tries to live as much as possible as if nothing has changed

And then Jason Todd returns

He is really hurt (emotionally) for all this shit and hates Bruce for what he did and what he didn't

Jason also hates Tim in the start for having accepted this shit so easily

No Bruce or Alfred can't convince Jason to become a vampire (they don't want to lose Jason again)

Then who bites him? Dick

They fight a lot, but Dick Grayson is charismatic, he always gets what he wants and this time there's no difference, Dick bites Jason

Years past and then there is Damian

The blood son, the heir of the Demon

Everyone is sure that Dick will bite Damian, they're close to each other, and in true Dick almost did it, but then Damian rejected

They fought really bad that night, Dick lost and Damian doesn't talk with him for a month after that accident

No one knows what happened

Why did Damain reject this?

They all thought Damian wanted to become part of the family, then why Damian rejected this?

After a while Duke Thomas joined the family, he hesitated to become a vampire in the start, but in the end he accepted it

This becomes the most funny joke of all time because his powers

And Damian is still the only human

Once again Bruce tried to lure Damian to become a vampire and once again there was a bloody fight, and in the end Damian is still a human and he stopped talking with Bruce for two months after that

All important members of Justice league know about the vampire family and accept it very well (it was a mess in the start but Batman is there for so long, they don't see him and his family as dangerous anymore)

Damian dies and comes back and he is still a human

Jon then becomes his friend, and all Kent house is chocked when they see Damian eat his vegetarian food

"Aren't you a vampire?" "No"

They assume that Bruce doesn't want to turn a kid into a vampire and let Damian grow a little. They're wrong about that

Time passes and Damian is now a teenager, life is own life doing his own stuff, not as Batman, not as Robin either Demon, just he own hero path

Jon is unsure when Damian will become a vampire, then he decided to ask his best friend about this

"tt" Damian is tired of this vampire shit, he knows how his family looks for him, every single one already tried to talk about this stuff with him and this always ends in a mess. Actually he is not surprised with the ask, but who is asking. Jon, his best friend. The stupid half alien and Damian are just tired

then Damian decides to talk the truth, the same truth he talks at Dick, Bruce and Alfred years ago after they stop fighting against each other. The same truth who is always together with the silence treatment

"My mother... She is not perfect, she made a lot of mistakes as well my father too, she turned me who I am and she also told me about this vampire thing, and she said she wouldn't be mad if I became like him, and in the past I also wanted to become like him but now..."

"but now?" Jon started Damian, the half alien is always curious about this fact and he doesn't understand why Damian is talking about his mom

"when I choose to live with my father and give up the league I thought it would be different, but then here we go Damian, there's a vampire cult with people who fear the dead and, even when they deny it, they also seek for power. The truth is I'm tired of cults, Ra's or Wayne's, they're not so different, this is still a cult"

"I... I don't want to live like them, Jon, I want to die as a human, Batman becomes an immortal and the demon head is also immortal. I don't fear the dead, I want to die as a human"

I just like to think about the potential angst with Damian and his family, how betrayed he will feel when he realizes that Dick and Bruce are not so different from Ra's, people afraid of death

In the worst case scenario Damian becomes a vampire against his will, who did it? Tim Drake

It was an extreme a desperate situation, Tim Drake just wants to save his baby brother lives and ignore Damain pleading to let him die

That was the first time that the house saw Damian crying. He understands why Tim did it, but still he feels betrayed and sobs with this curse

Damian is inconsolable for days and isolates himself, becoming exactly what he always feared, an immortal who steals people's lives to gain power exactly what his grandfather always said he would become

[blackreaderfics]

Checking In | Dick Grayson x Black!BatsisReader

↳ Pairing : Dick Grayson x Black!AFAB!BatsisReader

↳ Rating :  E (18+ minors dni‼️)

↳ Summary : After your brother Jason’s death, Dick Grayson keeps “checking in” on you. But as far as you’re concerned, he no longer has any right to be a part your life.

↳ W.C : ~5.2k

↳ Tags+Warnings : faux incest - step siblings (direct mentions), mild angst, hate(?)to love, sexual tension, not Titans DC!verse I just like the actor lol, canon divergence: set after Jason Todd’s death and before Red Hood, reader is a model (body type unspecified), referenced stalking, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, degradation (slut, whore), implied daddy kink, porn with plot!, special guest appearance by Booster Gold

“Hot date tonight?” 

You felt your eyes roll back into your head at the sound of the male voice that trilled like a mosquito in your ear. Fucking hell, you muttered a curse under your breath. After your shift of late-night vigilante duties, you always seemed to forget to take out your in-ear receiver. 

What was that thing Alfred always told you about breathing exercises? You took a deep breath, allowing yourself to quell your irritation.  In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3. 

“No action tonight, dick?” You rebutted. 

“I can hear when it’s a lowercase ‘D’, Y/N. ” Unlike yours, his voice betrayed no hostility, rather, he sounded quite amused.

You and Dick Grayson had never been close. In fact, you thought of him as more a stranger than a stepbrother. Bruce Wayne had adopted you into the family after Dick had already packed his bags and moved out of the manor to Blüdhaven. The only times you saw Dick was when somebody died and you had to attend the funeral. 

You didn’t grow up with him like you had Jason. And now that Jason was gone, it was suddenly like the golden “boy wonder” had been trying to squeeze himself into your life to make up for it. Ever since the detective had arrived in Gotham last week on “private business”— whatever, you didn’t want or care to know—he’d been “checking in” on you a bit too often.

“Are you making small talk ‘cuz you’re bored or are you just being annoying?”

“I’m in the middle of something actually.”

You stilled to listen closely, and now that he mentioned it, it did sound like he was in the middle of a fight. 

“Well, I would offer to help you but— ”you paused, wincing at what sounded like a man being punched in the gut. “—seems like you got it covered.”

“More than covered, sweetheart. Unlike what you’re wearing.” He made it sound like he was joking; though, the remark itself had bite.

“What?” What the fuck was that supposed to mean?

“That dress. Seems a little much for a first date don’t you think?”

You heard a yelp of pain in the background. Dick probably had some guy’s arm twisted around. 

“How the fuck would you know what I’m wearing? Or that I’m going on a date?”

You eyed the room while putting on the other half of your earrings. The idea of privacy wasn’t exactly a thing at Wayne Manor. That was the whole reason you moved out and into your penthouse apartment in the city. 

If for some reason he had seen you, he would’ve seen your figure in a slinky black mini-dress. A tasteful, but still unapologetic show of legs, cocoa skin, and cleavage all in one. 

“That guy plastered you on a billboard in the middle of Gotham. So, y’know, doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. And relax, your comms was on. You ever notice that you talk to yourself? Like a lot.”

He was about to be talking to himself if he didn’t shut the fuck up soon.

Ok, breathe. In. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You were violently broken out of your breathing exercise when a screaming welp and cracking of bones sounded through the earpiece. 

Dick spoke again, slightly winded. “Bruce say you could wear that?”

“Yes, Dick. Actually, he’s the one that bought it for me,” You deadpanned, voice dripping with sarcasm. Besides the fact that the old man would not give a flying fuck about your wardrobe, you were way too old to be slutshamed or worse, babysat.

“Now I know you’re fucking with me. He has way better taste than that.” You could hear the mirth in his voice; he was clearly just trying to banter with you.

“Oh like you would know anything about taste, Discowing.”

“…”

You got him there.

“Just make sure—”

“Good night, Richard.” You closed the line before he could give you another lecture and pocketed the listening device into your purse. 

You regarded yourself in the mirror one last time. It was a certified banger of an outfit, went quadruple platinum in all the clubs in Gotham’s nightlife scene. But that’s not where you were going tonight.

Feeling a little paranoid, you quickly scanned your apartment for any sign that you’d been bugged. Finding nothing, you shut the lights and locked the door behind you. Tonight you did have a date, with one of Gotham’s most eligible bachelors at that. So you were going to look hot and that annoying buzzing in your ear was just going to have to deal with it.

A sleek Tesla was waiting for you at the curb in front of your apartment building. You gave a small wave to a handsome blonde-haired man leaning against the sports car.

Your date was Michael Carter, some hotshot tech CEO you’d never heard of before until his company, Goldstar Inc. blew up out of nowhere. From what you knew of him he wasn’t as famous or rich as your billionaire adoptive father, but what he lacked in influence, he made up for in boundless persistence.

For the past month and a half, he’d been courting you with bouquets of roses, designer shoes and handbags, and more recently a billboard of you in the middle of Times Square asking you out. The billboard was what made you finally go out with him, not particularly because you liked grandiose gestures from douchebags, but mostly so he could leave you alone.

When you approached Michael he let out an appreciative whistle, and you let him wrap his arms around you in greeting. He looked down at you, appraising you and probably getting an eyeful of your tits at the same time.

“You are an absolute knockout. Who’s the lucky guy?” He quipped, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

Yes, he was also very corny but you decided you liked that about him. You’d dated too many men before that reminded you of the men in your family, and this Michael character was a blonde spark of life, a welcomed change from all the brooding and the fucking bats.

“Hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Oh, I don’t mind waiting. Got a lot of time on my hands.”

You smiled up at him, steadying yourself on his arms and feeling the muscle underneath your fingertips. You had to admit, even though he was corny he was complete eye candy. Built like a football player, dimples, pretty face…Yep, you were definitely going to fuck him tonight.

Your eye caught sight of something from over Michael’s shoulder. You shuddered; not because of the temperature—It was a warm enough summer night— but because you could feel that you were being watched. There was… a shadow… lurking on a nearby building.

Michael followed your line of sight to peer over at the dark, confused at where you were staring. 

“Something the matter, princess? You cold?” He rubbed some heat into the goosebumps pebbling your arm.

“N-no. It’s nothing. Sorry,” You shook your head, breaking away from him to climb into the passenger seat, swiftly shutting your door before he could offer to close it for you. He scrambled back to the driver’s seat, clearly caught off guard from your sudden change in demeanor.

“How about we—” Michael turned toward you, mouth open in mid-sentence.

“Drive.” You cut him off.

“Excuse me, what?” He blinked in confusion. 

“Now.” 

“A-alright.” He paused, perplexed, then quietly obeyed, gripping the steering wheel as he pulled away from the curb. 

You fished into your purse, opening your messaging app to type out DON’T FOLLOW before hitting send. You didn’t need to see the reply to confirm your suspicions you were being stalked, and you knew Dick Grayson well enough to know he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t. 

You frowned at the empty seat in front of you. You had already arrived at the restaurant and taken your orders, but your date had been taking a “business call” in the bathroom for over 20 minutes now. You were starting to think you had been ditched.

“This seat taken?” 

You looked up but instead of your date you were greeted by the sight of Dick Grayson in a crisp navy button-down rolled up at the sleeves. He looked like he could be a CEO in his own right, like the kind of CEOs people read in romance novels.

His forearms looked extremely capable, courtesy of his rigorous training; Broad shoulders and dense muscle made his shirt fit slightly too small. He cleaned up nice, a bit too nice since other women kept sneaking glances at your table. 

Dick was an undeniably handsome man, but you would never admit that to him. Instead you gave him a withering glare.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing but whatever it is, I didn’t ask.”

“So a guy can’t catch up with family after work now?” He sat down in front of you with a look feigning offense until it melted into a playful grin. He looked a bit too smug taking the spot of where your date would’ve been.

“You’re really shameless y’know that? You showing up and expecting me to just welcome you with open arms does not make you family.” You leaned back and crossed your arms. “What the hell did you do with Michael, Dick?”

“What did I do? What, you think I killed him? Like on some mobster Falcone shit?” 

“No, like on some Bruce Wayne shit. Real chip off the old block.” You scoffed. “I know you paid him off. It’s the same story with every other guy I’ve dated.”

He was silent as if mulling over whether or not to own up to the accusation.“I gave them an option and they took it,” he said simply as if there wasn't anything wrong with what he just confessed.

“And here I thought I was the problem.”

“Might be. If you keep choosing guys that’ll walk out on you at the whiff of a few bucks.”

“Fuck you, Dick.” You shot him two middle fingers and gathered your things to go. You weren’t gonna stay and hear this shit.

“They were all full of shit and you know it.”

“D-did anyone order the steak?” 

Dick broke his serious gaze from you and flashed a dimpled smile to ease the nervous waiter.

“We’ll take it to-go, thanks.”

You watched your 5th Uber request get denied and sighed. You really didn’t want to have to resort to getting the Wayne driver, but these were incredibly desperate times. Maybe if you faked being in danger, they could get to you fast enough to escape from Dick.

You were in the middle of dialing the number up when you felt something heavy across your back; The smell of leather, wood, and spice interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t refuse the warmth; it was welcome. Somehow it had gotten colder than you had originally accounted for.

“Really good thing I was here. Looks like someone needs a ride,” you felt Dick whisper into your ear. He gave your shoulders a playful squeeze and walked ahead of you to his car. You looked up just in time to see him, head turned and smirking back at you.

“Shut. Up. Just take me home,” You gritted out.

“Your chariot awaits.” He tipped an invisible top hat your direction, bowing theatrically as he opened the passenger door to his car. God he was annoying. You slipped past him, and kicked off your heels as soon as you hit the plush leather seat.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet. You weren’t surprised that he seemed to know exactly where you lived. Which, due to the nature of your job was to be expected. Bruce probably had you all chipped anyway, but you appreciated the illusion of privacy at the very least.

You turned your head to stare thoughtfully at his side profile as he drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the shift. It was oddly intimate to watch him from this perspective. Gotham City’s lights waxed and waned across his face as you passed through the night streets.

“What?” He seemed uncharacteristically conscious under your gaze. 

“So…you’re saying I need to date some sort of incorruptible and righteous superhero. That would be good enough for you, right? Someone that can’t be bought or bribed?”

He glanced at you brow furrowed before returning his attention to the road. “Wasn't saying that.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it Hal Jordan’s kinda cute.”

“Real classy, Y/N,” He said, visibly irritated now.

“What? What’s wrong with Hal?” You pressed, knowing you’d struck a nerve. Dick was terribly predictable and fun to annoy when he wasn’t busy annoying you.

“Uh I don’t know, maybe the fact that he’s Bruce’s friend?”

“Please, they’re barely friends. Coworkers at best.”  Since when was that an issue for the dude who hooked up with the commissioner’s daughter anyway? The hypocrisy was truly baffling.

“No.”

“Fine,” You pouted at him. “Everyone cares about money, Dick. It’s Gotham. And you don’t even live here anymore, so who else does that leave that money won’t sway? Alfred?”

He gave you a pointed silence, not in any more mood for the topic of conversation. “We’re here.”

You blinked, surprised. Sure enough, you were in the familiar surroundings of your parking garage. Maybe you’d been too busy staring at the cut of the older man’s jaw to notice you were already home.

“You’re not gonna walk me up? ‘Cuz If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were my personal bodyguard.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

“Cockblocker.” You muttered under your breath as you scuffed your heels back on. You shrugged out of his jacket and exited the car.

“Hey, wait! Keep the jacket on, it’s cold,” He called after you, but you only waved him off dismissively. You heard his car door slam shut and in a few strides, he was next to you again, draping the jacket over your shoulders.

He wordlessly joined you in the elevator, pushing the button to your floor like he'd been there before. At the door of your apartment, he passed along the plastic bag filled with restaurant takeout.

You briefly considered the raven haired man and then the takeout bag in your hand. “I’m probably gonna regret this, but…you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Dick shrugged, following after you into your apartment. 

You kicked off your heels and made a beeline to the kitchen. “Bathroom’s on the right. Just make yourself at home. I would give you a tour but, you probably already know your way around.”

“Thanks, but it’s the first time I’ve been in here, Y/N.” He replied drily, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I wouldn’t do that, ok?”

You only hummed, not really believing him. Dick Grayson wasn’t the type to lie, he was the type to withhold. 

You set down your bag on the kitchen table, reaching into the cupboard. “Wine?”

He jingled his car keys as an answer. 

“Ah. Right. ‘Protect and serve’ not ‘drink and drive’, got it.”

Dick seemed to be paying a lot of attention to the knickknacks on your shelf. You watched him pick up a few photo frames, inspect them closely for a bit and then carefully set them back In their places.

“You’re making my living room look like a crime scene, officer.” You chided strolling in closer. “What, are you gonna need a baggie for that evidence too?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, humored. “I didn’t know you liked photography is all.”

“Yea well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“I know enough.”

“Like what?”

He looked around the room and then settled on the books and magazines stacked on your coffee table. “You’re into fashion.”

“Well yea, I’m a model, Dick. Not exactly breaking news,” You scoffed. “You sure you’re a detective?”

He broke into a grin, the kind of grin that made the dimples in his cheeks deepen. It was like he genuinely liked when you made fun of him. “Well, I also know you also have terrible taste in men so…”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to get laid?”

“No, and I hope that never crosses my mind." He made a face like the very thought disturbed him. "Besides, you don’t want that.”

You chose to ignore the blatant patronizing. “Not a want; It’s a need. A biological one. Girls have those too y’know.”

“Ugh alright, can we change the subject now, please?” He wrinkled his nose, cheeks faintly flushed. It would’ve been so easy to tease him about how cute he looked blushing.

“You’re the one that brought it up.”

“I did not bring that up. I’m…just saying that I know you’re not that type of girl.”

“Not that type of—And what would that be?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“The one-night stand type. That’s not you.”

“How would you know what I am and what I’m not?” You retorted, agitation building. Getting date-ditched was one thing but getting mansplained to about your sex life was just the cherry on top of a shitty Saturday night.

“I know you,” He spoke slowly with an edge that confirmed your suspicions; The tone in his voice was backed by knowledge of your history—who you were before Bruce rescued you out of that hell and scrubbed your background clean.

“More like you’ve been stalking me. That’s not fair, Dick. You can look up all the data you want on me on that supercomputer but you don’t get to know me. It’s—it’s too late for that.”

You thought about Jason and how he was ripped away from you too soon. Tears fell faster than you could stop them. One second you were ok and the next, Dick had crossed the room to bring you into his arms. You fisted his shirt as you cried into his shoulder.

“You weren’t here. You left. You left us.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He comforted softly, tightening his arms around you.

“That’s not fair, Dick. It’s not fair.” You can’t remember the last time you cried this pathetically. He was rocking you gently now, whispering apologies in your ear.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m gonna make it right.” 

He gazed at you now, a sadness in his eyes. You wondered what exactly he meant by that. The only way to make it right was to bring Jason back. 

He gently held your face in his hands, thumbs swiping away stray tears. Years of training had calloused his fingers and you could feel them now against your cheeks.

“Let me make it up to you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

His soothing voice released flutters in your stomach—a bubbling concoction of fear, anticipation, and…something more. 

Inhale. 1. 2. 3.

Your breathing became shallow as he brought his head down, lips hesitant before yours. When you didn’t move away he brushed against you, softly first, waiting for permission until your eyes fluttered closed and you finally let him in.

Your cheeks burned. Something about kissing him made you embarrassed or maybe you were ashamed, like you knew you were doing something you shouldn’t.

You fumbled out of his jacket, now too hot, and pawed frantically at the buttons on his shirt. He kissed you with more passion, swallowing your moans as his hands shamelessly roamed your body, groping and grabbing handfuls of your ass. 

“Bedroom. My bedroom.” You said quickly between fraught kisses. If you hadn’t, he would’ve probably taken you right there on the sofa.

He nodded in agreement, picking you up with ease and swiftly treading to your room with you in tow. He set you on the bed and resumed where he left off until you were lying under him. That’s when you could feel him, all of him, pressing against you. 

“‘m gonna make you feel good.” 

Ripples of abs and lean muscle ground against you as he kissed down your neck. You gasped softly when his hand moved to rub you over the cloth of your panties.

“Wanna see you. Please, let me see you.”

He tugged the top of your dress down, undoing the clasp of your bra and revealing to him the peaks of your tawny nipples. You inhaled sharply, watching him take your breast into his mouth, eyes on you, as he licked and sucked.

You writhed under him, already overwhelmed by everything he was doing to you. He snaked his hand back into the front of your now-soaked panties, rubbing at first and then inserting a finger, then two until you were stretching around him.

“So wet for me, my pretty girl. Look at you milking my fingers in this slutty little dress. You were gonna let him do this to you, right? You were gonna let him finger your pussy too huh, baby?”

You whimpered his name, eyes wide as he continued to speak with his fingers squelching in and out of you. Normal, everyday Dick Grayson had the image of being a “nice guy”. He was probably that neighbor you’d ask to borrow sugar from; You would never expect to hear such dirty words coming from his mouth.

He hiked up the skirt of your dress some more and brought your hips to his face.

“Let me take care of you, huh? Let me take care of this pretty little cunt.”

You cursed softly, as he began to kiss and suck around your clit as he fingered you.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You taste so good, baby.”

He lapped at your cunt, making lewd slurps and noises. When he removed his fingers, he replaced them with his tongue and the sensation made you squirm.

“Quit moving so much. Didn’t you say you wanted to get laid? Don’t you want me to eat you out?”

“Y-yes. I want—Mmhfuck.” You nodded, finally finding some semblance of language. The way he spoke down to you was so agonizingly frustrating. It reminded you how patronizing he'd been earlier that night, telling you to cover up and dictating your life for you.

“You haven’t been fucked in a while, huh?” He mocked. “That’s why you were gonna let some guy you met today fuck you—Such a fucking slut that’s why you wore that, right?”

You whined at his words, bucking to earn some more friction from him.

“Holy shit, you like that? You like when I call you a slut.” His smile grew as if he just made a huge discovery. “Yea, ‘course you like it. Should’ve spread your legs on that billboard that guy bought. Let Gotham see how much of a fucking whore you are.”

Your cheeks warmed in embarrassment. You felt betrayed by the physical reaction you gave with how crudely he was speaking. He'd figured you out; You liked being treated like a cockdumb slut.

He planted a few more kisses on your thigh, unbuckling his pants with a free hand.

“Wait for me, babe. Touch yourself and wait for me like a good girl.”

You obeyed, rubbing at your throbbing mound to no avail. Your fingers didn’t feel as good as his did. 

He freed his cock from his underwear and you could see it now, leaking beads of precum from the tip, swollen and bobbing up against his well-defined stomach. Your mouth watered, you wanted to feel all of him on your tongue. But when you reached for him, he brought your fingers up to his mouth instead, sucking the pussy juices off your fingertips. He kissed your knuckles and returned your hand to you.

“Keep those pretty fingers busy, sweetheart.”

He stroked slowly, watching you tentatively squeeze one of your breasts, your other hand rubbing and dipping between your folds. 

“Fuck you’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned before he kneeled to position himself between your legs, aligning himself at your entrance.

“You just need a cock to fill you up, doesn’t matter which one, huh? That’s what you wanted, right?”

He rubbed himself against you, tip occasionally catching on a soft divot, but not fully being inserted inside.

“You’d even let your stepbrother fuck you, huh? That’s how much of a dirty little slut you are.”

You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of humiliation, frustration, and desire. How could your body like it so much when he was being so vulgar, so mean?

“Please, I need—“ You panted, trying to push yourself onto his cock for release.

“Mmh? Speak up, princess. What do you need?” 

“F-fill me up. I need you to fill me up.” 

“Only good girls get filled up Y/N. But you’ve been talking back to me all day like a fucking brat. You gonna be a good girl for me, baby?

You nodded dumbly in agreement. He pushed inside you a little deeper, only to take it out again.

“P—lease, I’ll be good. Just—need you inside.”

If only the patients at Arkham Asylum could see you now. They’d probably grab front-row seats to see you pathetically begging for some cock. 

“You could barely take my fingers, princess. You sure it’ll fit?”

He was right. It was a tighter fit than you anticipated, but you could feel him now hot and pulsating as he stretched you out.

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. C’mon you can take it.” He cooed, muttering curses to himself until he finally bottomed out, fully seated inside you.

You moaned, holding onto his forearms as he rutted in and out of you. You could see his length disappear and reappear with every thrust, gathering a ring of your cream around his base.

“How do you feel princess?” He grunted out, pace quickening. “How does it feel to have me balls deep inside that tight little cunt?”

“It. Feels. So. Goo—Ahmmhfuck.” You clenched around him, voice vibrating with every thrust.

“Fuck, you’re milking me, sweetheart.” He laughed, voice smug. “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you. Fuck, you’re so fucking dirty. You been thinking about my cock filling you up huh? Being my personal fleshlight? It’s everything you ever dreamed of right?” 

You could tell he was enjoying this, enjoying degrading you as you laid helpless underneath him, your release depending entirely on him. It was infuriating that he had this much power over you, but the amount of pleasure he was currently giving you superseded your pride.

He pushed your thighs back as he went deeper into an unforgiving mating press, knees by your ears, not caring that you weren’t as flexible as he was. 

“Such a good girl taking my cock so well. Wanted this for so long. You’re so pretty. You’re so fucking pretty. You feel so good; so good for me.”

He moaned into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your mouth and jaw.

“This pussy’s made for me. You’re made for me. I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

You felt his balls smack heavily against your ass as he continued to pound his fat cock into your sensitive cunt, reaching your G-spot.

“Whose is it, baby? Whose pussy is it? Please, baby. Say it’s mine. Just for me.”

“I-it’s yours. O-only. Yours.”  You gasped out, feeling a warmth blooming at the apex of your thighs as you came unraveled underneath him.

His length twitched as he unloaded thick ropes of cum inside you, some of it leaking out and down your ass as he thrusted deeper.

"That's right, take my cum. Take it, it's yours. It's all yours."

He continued to fuck his cum into you until your walls squeezed around him, coaxing out every last drop.

It was morning now and sunlight peeked out from between the gaps in your curtains. You grounded yourself back into your senses. Your satin pillowcase cooled your cheek, but there was an unfamiliar warmth pinning you down—an arm wrapped around your waist.

He was half-hard now, erection resting lightly against the plump of your ass. You could feel his chest rising and falling, warm against your back as he slept. Deep breaths in. 1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3.

You liked the way you fit together, your soft curves snug against his hardened body.

You turned a little to try and meet his eyes but your stirring only prompted soft kisses at your shoulder, and a strong arm pulling you ever closer, willing you not to leave the bed.

“Good morning.” He said between nips and kisses, intertwining fingers in yours. “What do you want for breakfast, beautiful?”

“Hmm? You’re still here.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“‘m still here.” He mumbled against your neck. His morning voice became noticeably deeper when sleep still clung to it. 

“Not a one night stand type of guy?”

He chuckled softly, the contented sound losing itself in the groove of your shoulder. 

“Nope. More like one night and one morning stand.”

You smiled at the terrible joke but willed it away quickly before he could see it. 

“I saw that smile,” He accused.

“No, you didn’t.” You tried to smother the corners of your mouth downward again. “You know for someone so smart you say a lot of stupid shit.”

“Aww, you think I’m smart, babe?” You didn’t have to look at him to know he probably had the dumbest smile plastered on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. “You also realize you talk way too much right?”

“You weren’t saying that last night.” He palmed your breast, kneading it softly. “Got so turned on you were literally begging me to fuck you. You were all like ‘Please daddy, please fuck me.’”

“I did not say that shit, weirdo.”

“It was implied.” He simpered.

You couldn’t help it; you were giggling now too. “You are such a dumbass.”

“First I’m smart, now I’m a dumbass. Which one is it, hm?” 

“Hmm, let me see…Which one is the quiet one, again?”

“You wouldn’t like it if I was quiet, though.” His voice had a hint of challenge in it.

You pursed your lips. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

“See? I know that filthy shit gets you going. Wanna test that theory, baby?” He murmured, kissing the shell of your ear. “See if you’ll call me daddy?"

Evidently he wasn’t the only one who got off to dirty talk. His cock was now fully hard and pressing against your ass.

He rolled on his stomach, pulling you closer to him by the thighs. Your eyes fluttered closed as he nuzzled into your sex, laving and sucking, deep blue eyes locked on you. His lips curled into a smile against you when you moaned and sighed with pleasure.

Dick pulled up briefly, pussy drunk, wearing his spit and your essence on his face like a badge of honor. He peppered a languid trail of drowsy kisses from your mouth and up your jaw as you spoke.

“Wha-what happened to breakfast?” Your question spilled out breathlessly from the way his mouth worked, a futile attempt at remaining coherent. Losing face now meant inflating his ego, especially if you proved his little “theory” a bit too quickly. 

“How about I eat you out first, then you let me fuck my cum down your throat later, yea?” 

His suggestive whisper sent a heavy wave of arousal straight to your heat. 

Fuck. 

Your bodies became a desperate tangle of limbs; your legs wrapped around his hips as you bucked up to grind against him, wanting—no, needing— him back inside you. Breakfast was definitely going to have to wait.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

[magic-crazy-as-this]

I'm working on editing the script for my Penelope Todd comic and I'm starting to think about messing with some of the details of the worldbuilding for my AU (aka Earth 860).

Like, for instance, the Batkids are all a little closer in age. Dick is only two years older than Jason so they got a chance to be a little closer before everyone started parting ways.

There's also a bit more time between when the Todd kids got adopted and Jason becoming Robin, Dick was Batman's Robin for the better part of a year before Jason began training. They all went to school together for a short time and Jason and Penelope were around when Dick and Bruce started fighting.

(I like this change a lot because it gives Bruce a different motivation for adopting Jason than just... wanting a kid around. Makes it less transactional, you know?)

⌞ ° • 🦇 • ° ⌟

Another minor-minor change is that I'm moving Gotham to Connecticut. Not just because I grew up there but I grew up there and HOLY HELL ARE THERE JUST STRAIGHT UP MAFIA TOWNS.

Genuinely. I've learned how to recognise a front pretty quick and it's not all that cutesy post about cooking nonnas.

It also gives a little more space between New York, Gotham, and Blüdhaven.

Penelope has yet to visit Dick in Blüdhaven because although she grew up on the streets of Gotham, she's terrified of New Jersey.

[sokoneedsagun]

Let’s talk about “replacement”

If you’ve been in the dc fandom for longer than maybe a week, you’ve probably seen it before. It’s present in fanfics, tumblr posts, role plays, and fanart. On the off chance that you somehow don’t know about it, “replacement” is a sort of nickname often used for Tim Drake by Jason Todd

This post is going to be cut, I’m going to leave the explanation out but there should be two other sections under it as well

Where did it come from?

There are two possible places that the use of it came from

The first is from a Batman comic series from 2002 called “hush” and I’ll spare you most spoilers about the comic but the part of it that’s important to this conversation has to do with Bruce, Jason, Tim, Selina, and Clayface

While catwoman is fighting huntress (Helena Bertanelli) who is currently drugged by poison ivy, Bruce is worried that Helena is going to force Selina to kill her so he tells Tim (who is Robin at the time) to stay where is and look for someone

Before Bruce can tell him who he’s looking for a figure appears behind Tim and says he’s the one they’re looking for, before hitting Tim and calling him “pretender”

When Bruce finds Tim he’s being held at knifepoint by “Jason” who begins lashing out and then fighting Bruce. Eventually he melts in the rain and is shown to be only made out of clay, and the real Jason Todd is still dead.

The important thing about this, is that Jason never called Tim “pretender,” he never held Tim at knifepoint point (if you ever see anything about Jason “slitting Tim’s throat” that’s where it’s from, Tim was fine all he needed was a bandage), all of it was done by Clayface who was mimicking Dick Graysons movements and using what he knew about Jason to manipulate Bruce.

As to where “replacement” specifically came from, the only time I’ve ever heard about its origin was in a TikTok where the person who made the video said it came from a fanfic (which is very likely true), in the comics Jason has never called Tim by that name

Why does the nickname not make sense?

The nickname doesn’t make sense because if anyone would be a pretender or replacement, it’s Jason. Jason Todd is one of the original robins but he isn’t the original Robin. That title will always belong to DIck Grayson.

And in brining up something like this you have to acknowledge the origins of the moniker in the first place. The name “Robin” came from a nickname that Mary Grayson had for her son, I’m fairly sure the original reasoning was because he was born in the early spring. The reason DIck chose to go by Robin is because the name was important to him, it let him feel closer to his late mother, similarly to how the original Robin costume is based on his flying Grayson’s outfit.

But when Dick was 17 or 18 he was shot in the shoulder by the joker, and Bruce tells him that he can’t keep risking his life as Robin, so he fires him. Dick moves out to Blüdhaven, starts working almost solely with the teen titans, and gets a new moniker (nightwing) given to him by Superman.

And then Bruce adopts Jason, and he gives him Dick’s name and uniform, putting a new child in the way of harm. And yes, Jason did make Robin his own but it was not his, he would have no right to put a claim over the name.

Why does any of this matter?

In short, it doesn’t. There is nothing inherently wrong with writing Jason using the term but in my opinion for their relationship, it just dosen’t make sense.

In the comics Jason has a complicated relationship with everyone in the batfamily, he’s grappling with coming back to life and trying to find a place for himself while also working through his own grief and anger

When you read comics though, when they’re together they often work well together and even hang out a few times, there’s one panel where Jason is trying to take tim out to get a drink (underage drinking is bad don’t do it/lh), and they have a fairly normal sibling dynamic with each other

Which is why I don’t understand where the concept of all the hate and resentment came from in the fandom, I’m genuinely curious as to know why it’s so prominent everywhere

[rokishimizu4]

Nightwing’s Big Brother adventure

(Sorry for the long wait, I’m moving to a new place and starting a new job, so very busy with that. Also, I’m writing stories-BatFam, Yautjas, Undertale AUs, Homer (Odyssey) x Gods/Goddesses, Hetalia Nordic 5, etc.) This one is gonna be dialogue heavy, because I see Dick & Jason being chatty when especially nervous. (Aka there is a child that Jay told me threw up brains and powdered meth and it’s staring at me from across two buildings on top of a fucken roof) Enjoy!

Warning: Todd being Todd, foul language, in a bad mood Nightwing

The months leading up to Nightwing traveling back and forth from Blüdhaven to EVERYWHERE else was one of with a sharp decline in villain activity in his claimed city as he was not in the mood to be nice.

Especially when he learns that there may be a organization out there that’s probably experimenting on people that NO ONE can find and a child out there that Jay says “threw up a bunch of meth users’ brains and got so sick that I was ready to call dad and beg him for help”.

That shit does not fly by Dick Wayne Grayson, especially when it comes to children that might be experimented on.

So, cue Nightwing prowling across Blüdhaven from when the sun starts to go down to as soon as the sun is high in the sky with his team. He barely goes to bed before he decides to head over to Gotham to help out with whatever he can.

However, this night was far from his ‘normal’ routine as he was in route to a bank robbery when he notices that the next roof he was ready to jump onto had something strange sitting on the ledge, glowing purple in the flashing lights of the fuck ton of cop cars down below. (Dick let the cops have a head start cause he was feeling nice)

The thing reminds Nightwing of a being made of oil, slime, and water, and/or some type of clay. But, seeing the goop moving in the flashing lights like a living, breathing, human did something to his brain that reminded him of when he first met Jason Todd.

“Hello there, a lot of noise here huh? What are you doing out here so late at night? Do you need some help? Are you hungry? Thirsty?” He asks in a soft tone, trying not to scare the mysterious child, who was smaller than Jason before his death and maybe even smaller than Damien when he was dropped off at Wayne Manor.

However before Nightwing could ask anymore questions, a beeping from his com renders him speechless. He quickly puts a hand up towards the figure, while his other hand goes up to his ear and presses a small button.

“Go for Nightwing.” “Hey Wing, just heard from your girlfriend that you haven’t been fucken sleeping dick head!” “Hood, I really don’t have the time for this.” “Oh no, the famous Nightwing doesn’t have the time to take his own god damn advice! Fuck you Wing, I’m gonna come over there and beat your ass til you can’t get the fuck out of bed for a week.”

”Hood, I really need you to watch your language at the moment.” “Why, you gonna come over here and wash my mouth out with soap? Too bad, I had worse. So try me bitch!”

”Jay Bird,” Dick could tell that Jason was now actually listening, “I have a goop child sitting a full roof top away from me that is staring at me and tilting it’s head side to side like it can hear you and understand you. So please, little brother watch your language.”

”Please tell me you’re joking. Dick, please fucken tell me you’re joking.” “I wish I was, because there is currently a robbery in progress and while the cops are there already, the still flashing lights do NOT fill me with confidence. And, from what you told me about this child, I refuse to leave them alone.”

”Where are you? Please tell me where you are NOW.” Jason growls and Dick did not need to hear Jason to know that he was rushing through his house/hideout getting clothes on and tripping his own feet to make it to Dick’s location.

”Blüdhaven, the biggest bank. Please hurry, cause I don’t know what to do yet.”

”Do you have any chocolate or anything like that on you? Yes, I’m being serious, cause the kid ate a shit ton of chocolate once it got all that shit out of its stomach.”

”How the fuck…” Dick’s jaw threatens to drop in confusion as he remembers that the backpack he was carrying was full of different types of chocolates and candy to make up his absences from date nights with Kori.

“Don’t fuck tell me that you have chocolate on you.. Pfft!” Jason busts out laughing as he realizes that the kid probably followed Dick because he has fucken chocolate!

”Jay, please shut your mouth. I’m gonna give this kid some chocolate and if you’re not here in the next 10 minutes, I’m gonna convince Kori to adopt this kid with me.”

”Hey! Fuck off! I called dibs first!”

Dick cuts Jason off with a double beep, which closes the conversation, and places some chocolate bars on his combo sticks and balances it over to the building roof in between the two of them, and slides it onto the roof. Then retracts so the kid could grab and go if they wanted to.

Which, to the disappointment of Dick, and Jason, who just landed on the same roof of Dick’s building, is exactly what the child did.

In a blink of two pairs of eyes, the goopy child grabbed the small stack of chocolates bars with a pair of tentacles and then jumps off the FUCKEN BUILDING, only to disappear into the mass of flashing lights like mist.

“WTF?” “Did you?” Two coms beeps-“Wing/Hood to Oracle!”

[bluejaysandblackbats]

A Stone’s Throw

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: The night Jason wakes up in the convalescent home, he’s accompanied by his favorite nurse (Nurse Kathy). Nurse Kathy follows her instincts and decides to foster him in the nearby city of Blüdhaven. Soon, her partner and roommates become Jason’s new family despite hopes that he’ll regain his memories.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Original Characters, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon

Additional Tags: Disabled Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne Doesn’t Know Jason Todd is Alive, Angst, Fluff, Found Family, Jason Todd Has a Foster Family AU, Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven, Original Asexual Characters, Original Lesbian Characters, Amnesiac Jason Todd, “Missed Him By That Much” Trope, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrected Jason Todd

Chapter Three: The Stepparents

Walter was a tall man, slender to the point of frailty as he organized books in a bedroom bookcase. His curly hair was gelled back and shining dark grey in the well-lit living room. His eyes dark and large, staring at the bindings to the books on the top shelf. He pushed his glasses up, warmly sighing as he cocked his head. The doorbell rang, and Walter smiled. “Lover? Is that you?” Walter shouted. 

“It’s Donnovan—. Dodie Hines-Fletcher! You know my father!” Dodie shouted. Walter opened the door. “You’re my father’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I am. Would you like a cup of coffee?” Walter asked. Dodie nodded. “You favor him. Your eyes are almost the same. Kind of hazel-ish… But your hair… It’s like your mother’s isn’t it?” 

“Yeah… It’s a weird dark reddish brown,” Dodie answered as he looked around. “How’d you meet my dad?” 

“We met at one of his art galleries. I bought A Conversation in Sage . I thought he was interesting, but I—. I saw the wedding ring. We talked for a while there, and he told me the situation. I was only in town for one night, so I gave him my address, so he could mail the painting to me. He um—. He started sending me letters. I sent some back… And we fell in love,” Walter answered, “Would you like to see the letters he wrote me? They’re lovely.” 

Dodie sat on a crate, politely resting his ankle on his knee. “My father sold A Conversation in Sage when I was six years old. You’re telling me you’ve been his boyfriend for nineteen years?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “And I don’t know… Should I see these? Aren’t they—?”

“Your father and I don’t have a physical relationship… Not in that way. We’ve done nothing more than kiss, and I held his hand once in secret. I’m—. Well, I’m impotent, and your father has no interest in sex,” Walter confessed. Dodie’s eyes widened as he looked away. “Would you like to see them? The letters? ” 

“Sure,” Dodie answered, “So… You’ve known my dad for nineteen years, and I’ve never—. Did my mom know about you?” 

“Yes… I’ve spoken to her several times. I’ve never met her, though,” Walter answered as he handed Dodie a stack of letters. “They’re in order. That’s the first twenty letters he sent me. He has a way with words.” 

Dodie opened the first envelope. “ Dear Walter… I hope I’m not being forward by sending this letter. I’m afraid I find myself thinking of you without meaning to. I carry the image of you around in my spirit. The weight of your absence bears down on my soul. I long for your company. I desire nothing more than to sit beside you, passing the days. Your companionship calls to me. I fear I have nothing of substance to offer you. What I feel may seem juvenile because I am new to this. It would be enough to simply gaze into your eyes and bask in their warmth ,” Dodie read silently to himself. He smiled at Walter. He grabbed the last letter in the stack. 

“ Dearest Walter… It was lovely seeing you. I feel giddy every time I think of what could be. I’m frightened that it will be too much for my heart. I paint pictures of men and women that don’t resemble you but do not be mistaken. All of them are inspired by your spirit. 

“You are my first love. I feel alive saying that. There is nothing more exquisite than this feeling. It might even surpass the taste of food itself. You are everything I could’ve wanted in a companion. I love you. I crave you. I want to hear your laughter and wipe your tears when you cry. Walter, I look forward to the next glance. The next letter. The next earthy-smelling letter. You’re so comforting to my spirit. 

“Thank you for loving me. Thank you for showing me that this could be possible. ”

Dodie looked away, his eyes welling up with tears. 

“God… My dad loves you so much. Sorry—. I—. I was so selfish. I just—.” 

Walter set Dodie’s coffee mug on a crate. “You’re his son. He didn’t want his romantic affairs to be your concern. He was hesitant to mention you. Daniel wanted to protect you from any hardship that he felt his personal life might’ve introduced. You weren’t selfish. You were unaware,” Walter reassured him, “As a young man, it must be a shock.” 

“It is, but I’m getting used to it. You seem like a nice person, though. I don’t know what I expected. I’m still worried about my mom’s girlfriend. Have you met her?” Dodie questioned. Walter nodded. “What’s your opinion of her?” 

“You know Sibyl. I was shocked when I met her, but you’ve probably seen her in passing. What was it like, by the way? I’ve always been curious. Your mother’s a nurse and your father’s an artist. What is that like? Was there any pressure to do one or the other?” Walter questioned. 

“No, not really. I was always an artistic kid… So, I naturally ended up becoming an architect,” Dodie laughed, “And I sell dollhouses that are replicas of people’s homes sometimes. Mom really enjoys that.” 

“Oh! How did you get into making dollhouses?” Walter questioned. 

“When I was little, my mom used to have this dollhouse that her grandma gave her. Whenever she had a bad day at work, she’d sit beside it in her chair, and open it up. I used to climb into her lap, and she’d guide my fingers over the finer details, telling me stories about dollhouses being piggy banks for memories. Bad and good, ” Dodie answered, “And it stuck. I learned how to make birdhouses, then I learned how to build regular dollhouses. I kept doing more and more until I was making miniature houses.” 

“That’s amazing. I’d like to see some of your work someday,” Walter smiled. A woman entered the house, grunting as she set grocery bags on the ground. Walter held a finger up as he went to meet her in the family room.

“Dodie’s here. You should introduce yourself,” Walter whispered. 

“Is he upset?” she whispered. 

“No, he’s a lovely kid. Go on. I’ll get the groceries,” Walter replied. 

The woman stepped into the family room, taking off her powder blue heels and walking toward the young man. Her silvery curls were pulled back into a ponytail. The woman was buxom and older, but not so old that he didn’t recognize her face. “Hi, Deanie. Do you remember me at all?” she asked. Her voice was so sweet, it immediately sent Dodie back to his childhood. “You didn’t know me as Sibyl. I think you knew me as—.”

“Ms. Graves… This one is a little—. My dad—. We—. You were the model for my dad’s photography phase. Mom never spoke to you. Not once. I would’ve remembered. I practically lived in Dad’s art studio back then,” Dodie stated. He squinted as he tried to remember a time when his mother and Sibyl could’ve met.

“Dodie, I used to invite your mom for dinner when you and Daniel went to the movies,” Sibyl replied, “We were very discreet… The furniture people are on their way. So, we’ll have a couch in a little bit. Are you staying for dinner? Kathy said she’s going to cook.” Dodie nodded.

[pekejscatbed]

Band-aids and too many scars | Jason Todd centric

info/warnings:

SFW age regression, little! Jason, slight cg! Bruce, slight cg! Alfred, lots of fluff with a dash of angst (only a sentence)

batman masterlist

song: little space - sxye

———

It's not the first time Jason finds himself in this position, breaking into Wayne Manor and crawling through his adoptive dads bedroom window while said dad is away at some fancy gala or work meeting, and it's also not the first time that Bruce's bedroom window has been left unlocked and Jason wonders if it's on purpose- if Bruce is aware of what his second son is doing, breaking into his room and regressing to the age of a child to relive the childhood he didn't get to experience, and if Bruce is intentionally leaving the window unlocked to make Jason's feats easier. Either way, Jason tries not to think about it too much, because he really doesn't want Bruce to know about his regression, even if Bruce is the one person Jason craves when he's slipped into that state of mind, and instead he just chooses to believe that the constantly unlocked window is merely a coincidence.

Today, Bruce is attending one of the many galas Alfred urges him to go to in attempt to keep up appearances, and Alfred is with him as part of his "butler duties" as he calls them. Dick is still in Blüdhaven, Tim is on a date with his boyfriend, and Damien is... Jason isn't sure actually- that kid can disappear- but he's not at the manor, so Jason's happy (yes, Jason stalks his family, so what? it's not weird-). Since no one is home, it's the perfect time for Jason to indulge in his coping mechanism, which just so happens to involve breaking into his dad's bedroom, yes- but, in Jason's defense, being in the head space of child makes him crave his childhood home and the comforting smell of his Daddy's cologne, okay?

Speaking of his Daddy, little Jay is currently sitting on his Daddy's king-sized bed, pulling little gear out of the small, black backpack he brought with him. The first item Jay pulls out is his black bat Hello Kitty stuffed animal, a Beanie Baby Halloween plush in an orange outfit with details in the same color. Next, he pulls out two coloring books, the first being Superhero themed and the second being of the Lisa Frank brand; he also grabs a few small packages of crayons. The last thing Jay grabs from his bag is his pacifier, black with a red handle, decorated with a small array of stickers.

Jay slips the paci into his mouth, lightly suckling, and opens his Lisa Frank coloring book; he flips to a page of a girl in a princess dress, standing on what looks like a castle wall, a vase of flowers on the floor next to her. Grabbing a light brown crayon, Jay colors her skin first, then switches the color to a dark purple to color the girls curly hair, lips, and eyeshadow. Next, he grabs hot pink to color her dress, switching to a light pink to color the big bow on the front of her gown. Jay then moves onto the flowers, filling them in with different shades of purple and pink, then colors the vase with a orange-ish-brown. Finally, Jay colors the castle walls grey, switching between dark and light shades for every other brick.

The little continues coloring for a while, filling in a couple more pages, the last he does being a picture of Batman from his Superhero book, a present for his Daddy when he's finished, though he knows he'd never actually give it to the man (Jay wipes away the tears building up in his eyes with a sniffle, wishing the thought away). Once the picture is fully colored, Jay smiles at his work with pride, before a small yawn escapes his lips, muffled by his paci. His eyes start to close and his shoulders begin to droop, and the boy realizes just how sleepy he is and lies down on side, curling in on himself and grabbing his Hello Kitty stuffie to cuddle up to his chest. In his small, sleepy state, Jay falls asleep in the comfort of his Daddy's bed, forgetting that he really isn't supposed to be there in the first place.

———

When Bruce comes home and steps into his room, the last thing he expects to see is his second son asleep on his bed with a stuffed animal in his arms, an adult pacifier in his mouth, and a mess of crayons and coloring books next to the boy's body. The man takes in the sight before him, a fond, although slightly confused, smile on his lips.

Alfred comes up behind Bruce, wondering why his Master has stopped in the middle of his doorway with a genuine happiness on his face, though the butler immediately understands when his eyes lay on Jason, and he smiles, too, then whispers, "It seems Master Jason has made a mess. Shall I clean up for him?"

Bruce nods, though advises Alfred to be quiet, careful, not wanting to risk waking his sleeping son, then lightly walks towards his closet to change out of his suit and into more comfortable clothes. Alfred understands and quietly puts away all the crayons in their respective boxes, going as far as to put them in color order, then moves to pick up the coloring books, eyes widening when he sees the open page of a fully colored Batman. The butler waves over Bruce, who is pulling on a shirt, and shows him the carefully colored picture, hand drawn hearts covering the border as well as the single word, "Daddy".

Grinning, Bruce takes in the picture, asking Alfred to rip it out of the coloring book for Bruce to keep (Alfred has always been better at tearing along perforated lines than Bruce). Alfred does as asked, then gently puts the packages of crayons and coloring books into the backpack at the end of the bed, making sure to keep the Batman page out. As he does this, Jason shivers from his spot on Bruce's bed, a mumbled, "Daddy" falling from his lips as his pacifier gently slips out of his mouth and onto the bed next to him. Both Alfred and Bruce smile warmly at the sight, and Bruce grabs the fuzzy blanket at the end of his bed and gently covers his son with it. He then grabs the pacifier, asking Alfred to clean it off, then slowly pushes it back between his sons' lips. Once Jason is warm and comfortable, and the bed is clean, Bruce and Alfred both quietly make their way out of the bedroom, Bruce slowly shutting the door behind him with the coloring page in hand.

Together, the Master and his butler search the internet for answers to Jason's behavior and learn about the terms Age Regression and Little Space, quickly understanding the coping mechanism and how and why it would benefit Jason.

———

When Jason wakes up, all his coloring tools are put away, and moonlight shines in through the window he came in. His eyes widen, realization setting in; someone saw him. Quickly, Jason shoves his pacifier and stuffed animal into his bag, momentarily pausing when he comes across a plastic baggie filled with chocolate chips cookies. A light blush spreading across his tanned cheeks, Jason shakes his head, leaving the same way he came in.

(He eats the cookies when he gets to his apartment, the taste immediately giving away who baked them: Alfred. Jason smiles.)

[officialdailyplanet]

The Dark Truth Behind Bruce Wayne: A Cautionary Tale

By @dottie-mcveigh

In the shadows of Gotham City, a sinister reality lurks beneath the polished facade of one of its most prominent figures—Bruce Wayne.

While the world knows him as a billionaire philanthropist, the truth is far more disturbing. Beneath the surface, @officialbruciewayne is not merely a man of wealth; he is a master of deception, a puppeteer hiding his malevolent intentions behind a mask of charm and benevolence.

For years, rumors have swirled about Wayne’s clandestine activities, whispers that go beyond mere speculation. It is imperative we confront the uncomfortable truth: Bruce Wayne’s empire is built on and for the exploitation of the city’s most vulnerable inhabitants—its children.

Wayne Enterprises has become synonymous with charitable giving, funding orphanages and youth programs, while the reality is much darker. How convenient that the very institutions he donates to also serve as a cover for his nefarious operations. These facilities, meant to protect and nurture, may instead be breeding grounds for the very abuse we hope to eradicate.

Wayne��s carefully curated public image allows him to operate undetected, an illusion that conceals his true nature. His wealth buys silence and compliance, but the walls of this façade are crumbling. It is time to shine a light on the shadows he desperately tries to keep hidden.

Reports of missing children in Gotham have become alarmingly frequent, yet the media remains blissfully ignorant, wrapped in the comfort of Wayne’s reputation. But what if those children are not merely lost? What if they are being ensnared by the very man who professes to protect them? The signs are there, if only people would take off their rose-colored glasses and look closely.

Whistleblowers within Wayne Enterprises have spoken out about troubling practices. Allegations suggest that Wayne uses his influence to silence those who dare to reveal the truth. The very institutions he claims to support could be funneling children into a system that exploits their vulnerability. It’s an intricate web of lies, one that stretches across the city, ensnaring countless innocent lives.

As we confront this disturbing reality, we must raise critical questions that demand answers:

Are Bruce Wayne’s adopted children truly safe in his care or are they subjects of his darker impulses?

What really happened to Jason Todd? Did Bruce, in a moment of rage or to cover up his deviant urges, cross a line that cost a young boy his life?

Could the trauma and secrecy surrounding Todd’s fate be the catalyst for Dick Grayson’s abrupt departure to Blüdhaven?

Was it a desperate escape from an abusive household, a move to protect himself from the same fate?

These inquiries are not just speculative; they are essential to understanding the true nature of the man who walks among us as a celebrated philanthropist and charming dilettante.

It is essential that we confront the myth of Bruce Wayne head-on. He is not a savior; he is a predator hiding in plain sight.

The narrative of a lonely billionaire who once tragically orphaned now takes in young and vulnerable children is captivating, but it obscures the reality of his actions. He is not the kind family man he portrays himself as, and any who seek to unmask him are themselves punished legally, financially and perhaps—with their lives.

I—myself—was sacked from the Gotham Gazette for seeking to dig deeper into Bruce Wayne's complex web of deceit.

We must ask ourselves: how many children have gone missing while Gotham lauds Wayne as a hero? How many lives have been shattered because we chose to ignore the signs? How many more children will this man take, exploit and abuse?

The time for complacency is over. The citizens of Gotham must rise to challenge this injustice. It is our duty to protect the vulnerable, to ensure that our city does not become a breeding ground for predators like Wayne.

Bruce Wayne may hold power, but it is the collective voice of the people that will shine a light on his dark deeds.

Let us not be blinded by his wealth and influence. Instead, let us demand accountability, and work together to unearth the truth.

Only then can we hope to save the innocent children ensnared in Wayne’s insidious grasp and trapped in that mausoleum of abuse. The time for action is now, and together, we can ensure no more children fall prey to a sick man.

Dorothy Moire Mcveigh

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of any organization or individual.

[basicbatboys]

Part Two (Request for #32)

Here is the part two some of y'all requested! Thank you for your engagement!

Pt. 1

Pt. 3

Pt. 4

You tried to play it off, pretending like you didn’t know what he meant so you laughed lightly. “What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You asked. Your eyebrows knit together and you stood stone-still, afraid he could see how badly you were shaking. 

This was it. You’d been so afraid of this moment and here it finally was. How he figured it out, you had no idea. You were freaking out on the inside but you tried to tell yourself there was still hope. Maybe he was kidding. 

“You are Havoc. I don’t know what kind of sick game you’ve been playing but infiltrating my personal life is another level of evil. I’m going to take a lot of pleasure in killing you, but don’t let that fuel your ego.”

Your knees just about gave out. What the fuck was he talking about killing you for? You backed up until you hit the cabinets behind you with a loud thunk. 

“J-Jason…” You sputtered. It was no use. From his waistband he pulled out a gun and began to load it. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. He was slow and methodical about his movements, knowing you weren’t going anywhere. You should run, you should do anything but you couldn’t find it in you to move at all. You were stuck. 

“Don’t try anything Havoc. I’m not letting you go now that you know my identity. I can’t believe how stupid I am!” He laughed thickly, swallowing hard as the gun was finally loaded. He aimed and placed a finger on the trigger. “I gave everything to you. I gave you everything.” He reiterated. You could see the gun shake as he did, obviously tortured by the whole situation.

Some sort of hope blossomed inside of you and you took a shaky step forward. Maybe he could be reasoned with. “Jason. Please. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything. Please, please put the gun down.” You begged. It wasn’t until just now that you realized you were crying. You let the sobs wrack your body, hoping to appeal to his humanity. You were trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, trying to figure out how he knew your secret until it clicked. 

Red Hood. Jason Todd was the Red Hood. 

That’s how he figured it out, he had access to all of Batman’s technology and he had probably been digging for months trying to figure out who you were until he finally let himself realize the truth. You imagined how hard that must’ve been for him, how betrayed he must feel and you let yourself fall to the floor as the weight of guilt came crashing. 

Guilt? Was it guilt? Were you capable of feeling guilt? You hadn’t thought so. You decided to override your emotions and turn on your instincts. This was life or death and no time for analyzing your silly ‘feelings’. 

“Don’t play mind games with me.” He demanded, standing fast and letting the chair clatter to the floor beneath him. “You can’t escape this one. You’re dead.”

You covered your head with your hands, crying and screaming and praying this would just end soon because jeez your throat was starting to hurt. He was being so frustrating. Why, of all people, did Red Hood have to be the one to be following you? You should’ve moved to Blüdhaven, maybe then you wouldn’t be held at gunpoint in your kitchen. 

After a moment, you wondered why he hadn’t pulled the trigger yet. You looked up at him and realized the gun was down and he was staring at the ground, somewhere else. Slowly, you moved to a sitting position and waited for him to speak. 

It felt like hours before he finally said anything. 

“I love you, you know.” He choked. 

You think your heart broke. God, was he getting you to open up?

Come to think of it, Jason was the only person who ever made you feel like, well, a person. Everyone else had kicked you to the dirt but Jason was always there for you. You saw a future with him. You saw a life worth living when you thought of him. 

Fuck.  

“Jason.” You whispered, slowly standing. You held your hands up, showing you meant no harm. 

“It’s true. I am Havoc. I know you know but… Well, you’re right I guess. I don’t know. Listen, I’ll stop. I’ll give it up for you. Hell, I’ll even fight alongside you. I’ll… I’ll do anything. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Jason mumbled something you couldn’t hear. 

“What?” You asked, taking a cautious step toward him. 

“What about the people you’ve killed.” He bellowed, his voice unlike anything you’d ever heard. 

You stumbled back in fear and again the tears began to flow. “Jason.” You sobbed, “Please don’t do this. I can be saved. I think I’m sick, I think there’s something wrong with me.”

He shook his head. “You can’t pull that card, you’ve been to Arkham. You had a chance at rehabilitation.”

You shook your head too. “NO! You don’t understand! Arkham is an awful place, they don’t care about the criminally insane, we’re treated like animals there. I was forcefed so many pills I forgot my name. That’s not rehabilitation. The doctors are no better than the people they ‘treat’.”

“You are not a person. Not to me.” 

He unloaded the gun and stuck it back in his waistband. “Listen to me.” He demanded. 

“I don’t want to see you again. Not as you, not as Havoc. You stay the fuck out of trouble and stay the fuck out of my life. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly, backing up toward the cabinet again. “I understand.” It was better this way. He should stay away from you, you were no good for him. He was right. You’re not a person. 

But you might be someday. You were right too, the emotion you were feeling was guilt, and it was crushing.

-----

Jason left that day without another word and you collapsed back on your kitchen floor and allowed yourself to heave and sob and feel everything you hadn’t felt in years. Who knew all it took was a breakup with your true love to straighten you out? 

After that, you kept your word.  You went to therapy, real therapy, and got help. You worked on yourself. You became better. The best part?

You got really damn good at axe throwing.

[apollo-likes-writing]

TW: Gore, death, viruses, blood, depictions of violence.

Red Hood that comes back to Gotham at the same time he does in canon, but not in the way you'd expect.

Everyone knows the Lazarus Pit changes you, for better or for worse. For Jason, it was so, so much worse.

Imagine the moment he steps out of the Lazarus Pit, with Ra's Al Ghul smirking at the idea that he may, finally, defeat The Dark Knight once and for all.

But that smirk is wiped off his face the minute he sees what he has created.

It's morose. It's ugly. It's grotesque. The skin on his body hangs off the bone and makes a disgusting squelch whenever his feet hits the ground. His arms are drawn upwards towards Ra's, his iris' non-existent and his mouth agape. He staggers towards the Demon's Head, hands grasping at nothing as he stumbles his way towards him.

Ra's Al Ghul has made a zombie. A disgusting, hideous zombie.

It's then when he gets a sick and twisted idea. He traps the undead Jason, and carts him away in a wooden box with "Gotham City" on the label. He's dropped in front of Wayne Tower, and the box he's kept in is opened. He's unleashed, and Jason Todd's reign of terror begins.

Though what Ra's didn't account for, is the zombie's intelligence.

He goes about it systematically. Secretly. Going for little-known thugs and criminals in dark alleyways first, before moving on to drunk party-goers and drugged out civilians that happened to stumble across him in the dead of night. Soon enough, he has an army. An army of unsightly and repulsive walking corpses.

When he's ready, he strikes in the middle of the day. He targets hospitals, shopping centers, and high-rise offices. Within 30 minutes, half of Gotham is overrun by the walking dead.

The Batfamily are on red alert. Nightwing is pulled from Blüdhaven and Bruce finally allows Alfred his time to shine with his vast variety of firearms. Superman. Starfire. Raven. Martian Manhunter. Everyone from the elite meta groups across America are called in to deal with this potentially world-ending threat.

It's only until Tim Drake gets bitten when they realise that this is a real danger.

First it's Tim. Then it's Flash. He got bit while leading zombies into a trap set by the Teen Titans.

Now there's a meta-user out there. An undead corpse is running around at the speed of sound, biting, scratching, and killing every living thing around it.

You know what they say, right? When one goes, the rest is soon to follow.

Next it's Green Lantern. Then it's Aquaman. Then it's Beast Boy. Then, somehow, it's fucking Superman, who got bit by one of his best friends, Wonderwoman.

Soon after that, they all go.

That's right. Earth's mightiest defenders are ripping people to shreds. Tearing innocents clean in half from the top of their heads to the bottom of their torso. It's horrific and is classified as an international emergency.

The entire world goes to shit, until Batman finds Patient Zero. He's locked the rest of his children in quarantined cells, their blood and saliva drips down the glass doors and soulless eyes stare at him as he strides past.

He jumps into the Batmobile and shoots out of the cave, mowing down the undead as he goes with regret in his eyes. Through all that lust for death and murderous gleams in the eyes, they're still human. Humans who are sick and need to be treated. Now, with most of the world's strongest fighters succumbing to this virus, he must be the one to stop it.

He discovers Patient Zero in a warehouse near the docks of Gotham. He enters, batarangs in hand and ready to be thrown at anything that moves. He sees a throne at the other end of the room where a figure sits. He creeps up to it, and realises it's made of human bones, much to his horror. As he gets closer, he makes out the face of the person who started it all.

His son. Jason Todd. The one who got away.

His batarangs clatter on the ground.

His dead son turns to him, face knarled and ruined, and his mouth opens. A horrid sound leaves his throat.

He's speaking, but he sounds like he's screaming.

"Look what you've done, father. This is your fault."

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