#Jason Todd Moves to Blüdhaven | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

demonic0angel · 29 days ago

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Christmas + Gotham City Spirits

Bruce sipped at his coffee, reading through the recent reports of a case a few days ago. The coffee blend was faintly peppermint-flavored because due to the holiday season, Stephanie had replaced everything in the coffee making station with Christmas themed items.

It tasted good, so no one complained too much.

The chatter in the cave was calming, a distant lull with the sound of his loved ones’ voices. None of them had gone on patrol yet, although they were all dressed in their vigilante suits. Dick and Jason were arguing over the movie they wanted to watch on their semi-weekly Movie Nights, and Cass and Steph were egging them on. Tim and Damian were gone, having left using the Batmobile to pick up something.

They would be back any minute now—

Tim and Damian drove into the Batcave in that moment, and although their parking was gentle, they both flew out of the car like it was on fire. Damian was holding an ice cream cup, despite it being the only a day from Christmas, while Tim was holding a milkshake.

Bruce looked back down at the reports, unconcerned after seeing no blood, limping, or drugs.

“The Batmobile is haunted!” screamed Tim, and Bruce paused in reading his papers. He looked up again and watched as the others approached, confused murmurs and questions filling the air.

“Huh?? What happened?!”

Tim and Damian were trying to explain the events that led up to this moment. Damian was standing next to Tim, who was ranting up and down about what happened.

“Okay, so I was taking Damian for ice cream,” cue some coos from Dick and Steph, with Bruce mentally joining in, “when we were arguing in the car. I hadn’t realized that I had taken my eyes off of the steering wheel until Damian pointed it out. The car was driving on its own! And the autopilot wasn’t turned on!”

Bruce resisted the urge to smack his forehead.

Of course this was how they were discovered. He could almost sense the awkward guilt coming off of the Batmobile from the distance where it was parked in the cave.

“So… you think it’s ghosts?” Steph asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tim and Damian shared a look and then nodded.

“Ghosts?” Jason snorted. “Are you kidding? I bet you’re seeing things.”

“It was real, Todd! Just because you’re brain damaged doesn’t mean the rest of us are—“

Dick interrupted him, “Well, I mean Deadman and Gentleman Ghost exist. Who’s to say that the Batmobile isn’t haunted?”

Jason opened his mouth to argue some more, but Tim spoke up then. “Bruce? You don’t seem surprised.”

Bruce paused on taking a sip of his coffee. All of his children turned to stare at him.

It was Cass who said, “He knows something.”

More than just knew.

Bruce had met and befriended the ghost that haunted the Batmobile. And the Batcomputer. And the gargoyles in Gotham. And the parks. And Arkham Asylum. And Crime Alley. And Blüdhaven. And Gotham City itself.

The point was… Bruce had more than just knowledge on the ghosts haunting the things around him.

————

It had first begun when Batman had started appearing within the city. He had just started working as a vigilante for a few months when one day, he had noticed odd circumstances happening around him.

It happened sporadically, almost randomly enough that he hadn’t gotten suspicious for awhile, but when a pattern was beginning to form, he began to notice.

Whenever he could’ve sworn his hook wouldn’t attach properly to the building, it seemed as though something moved and made it fit perfectly, allowing him to swing to his destination. Whenever he thought that he had lost a criminal, a new alleyway that he wouldn’t be able to recognize would pop up and allow him to block the runaway’s path. Whenever he felt like his computer wouldn’t be able to calculate something or find new information, it would miraculously give him data that he knew for sure that a mere computer could not find.

The most prominent evidence was with the Batmobile. At times, it would speed up on its own, even when he was extremely controlled in how he used the brakes and gas. At others, it would have minuscule but noticeable changes such as adjustments to seating and temperature inside of the car. At one point, Bruce distinctly remembered the car turning and sliding unnaturally past danger, which helped him avoid crashing into a narrow street’s wall when he was dodging gunfire. It had been strange because he was sure that he was going to scrape the car against the wall, but it never happened.

Bruce had personally worked on it with Alfred’s help, so any signs of tampering were impossible. There was no explanation for it, no matter how much Bruce dismantled the car and remade it over and over again.

Even Alfred had that strange look in his eyes now, as if wondering if Bruce had delusions from one too many concussions.

Bruce scoured his library for information, looked up anything on the internet, and even asked informants and help from the few contacts that he knew.

They had a few answers, but none of them made a lot of sense.

In the end, Bruce decided to just confront the problem head-on.

On a lonely summer night, Bruce entered his car and sat in the driving seat, breathing out slowly. Usually, the car did not act out everyday, but today, Bruce had been driving in order to dodge the police that wanted to capture him, and he had seen how the car moved without his turning of the wheel to drive past sharp corners. This had earned him a few precious minutes necessary to throw the police off his trail and allow him to get away.

All this told him was that the car was of help to him, but nothing else.

He started the car, allowing the familiar rumble of his car warm him up. He allowed the Batmobile to run as he thought of what to say.

When he formalized his speech, Bruce cleared his throat and stared at the inside of his car, sleek and polished all over.

“I-I’ve been noticing a few things lately. Strange things happening. I think that you’ve been helping me. I’m… thankful. Thank you for helping me away from the cops today. I appreciate it.”

His voice reverberated inside of the empty car.

“However, I want to meet you. If you’re there. Are you… sentient?” He asked.

The car did not speak.

Well, of course, it couldn’t speak.

He flushed with humiliation as he mentally berated himself. Was he so paranoid, so tired that he was now believing that a car could respond back to him? No wonder Alfred was thinking he was insane.

But in the next moment, he ate his thoughts as the car gave an answering rumble without him revving the car or doing anything.

Bruce stared. Then he said, “Make something move if that was real.”

Another moment of silence. Then there was a click and the windshield wipers began to turn on, swiping across the glass.

Bruce’s breath caught.

“You’re sentient!” He cried, unable to believe it. The air around him began to chill and he watched as the temperature of the air conditioner dropped rapidly until it was low, making his breath come out in vapor. He shivered and looked around frantically.

“Yes,” a soft voice said, “I am.”

Bruce turned to the side, where the voice appeared. A small girl, who looked barely even five, stared at him with wide eyes through a domino mask and a suit that wasn't unlike his. She was tiny, with a black ponytail behind her head and a cape attached to her neck.

He stared and watched as the fabric on her body sparkled with a metallic sheen and her hair flowed in a nonexistent breeze within the enclosed car.

"Are you... a ghost or something?"

The girl smiled. "Kinda." She kicked her feet and giggled. "I'm the spirit that haunts this car. But if you had a plane or a boat, I could haunt those too." She paused and then eagerly asked, "Could you get one? I think it'd be really cool!"

Bruce couldn’t help but smile. “I… I’ll try. What are you, exactly? Can you tell me more about yourself? What are you here for?”

Perhaps he could’ve asked more questions. Maybe he should’ve asked whether or not she was good. She was an unknown variable in his long-term plans, but he couldn’t muster up the animosity needed to interrogate her, not while she looked at him and like him in similar clothes and a smaller form.

“I’m a ghost, and my haunt is your vehicle,” she replied blithely. “I was brought here because my family is also here. They’re also ghosts, and there’s a lot of them around. I think all of my siblings are awake, and so are our friends. A few are still asleep, I think… but I promise we mean no harm. We’re supposed to protect life, as beings who have already crossed to the other side and made a deal with Lady Gotham and Lady Blüdhaven.”

Bruce stared at the ghost in his passenger seat.

“Pardon?”

She explained in more detail. Several centuries ago, Gotham City and Blüdhaven were the haunts of two powerful sister spirits who protected the city and powered it via the emotions of their citizens and their own strength. However, something had befallen them, and they had asked for help from the Ghost King. He had agreed to take over for them, and in one final sacrifice, both city spirits had died and then tied their cities to the Ghost King and his family, who he had asked to assist him.

They all separated and formed their own haunts via some time shenanigans that she would not elaborate on. And thus, several ghosts haunted both cities. There was supposedly one city spirit in Blüdhaven, since it was a much smaller city, and over six in Gotham.

She, ‘Dani’ as she called herself, was one of them.

“We’re usually asleep and we don’t really have awareness or sentience like a normal person most of the time. So it’s difficult for us to age too.” She yawned at this moment. “I’m a weaker spirit, so I have a really small haunt. My big brothers all have a city to themselves, but the rest of us get smaller stuff.”

Bruce asked, “Are you tired?”

She rubbed at the mask that covered her eyes irritably before nodding with another yawn. “I’ll try to come back,” she said, “but I’m usually not “out” like this, so it’s tiring. But the more you take care of me and Gotham, the stronger I’ll get, like my siblings.”

A hand seemed to clench at Bruce’s heart.

More people to depend on him. Another cause to be stronger, faster, and smarter. Further reasons for him to be better, so he could help his city.

“Oh.”

She smiled at him, and it brought a little warmth back into the chill surrounding him. “But I’ll help you. No matter what, we spirits are on your side, Batman.”

Bruce returned the smile. “Thank you.”

It was almost unbelievable, but the amount of details in her explanation proved her right and the way she explained things made sense. No wonder he had so much success as Batman. No wonder it felt like he could run forever on Gotham’s streets and catch criminals all night. No wonder it felt like the city called for him like a beacon, even without the Bat-Signal.

She nodded and in the next blink, she was gone. The temperature increased back to normal. The car was silent and so was Bruce, as he sat in the plush, leather seats and thought to himself. In the end, there was nothing else to do but harden his resolve to do better and help Gotham City.

He met her a few more times, and they officially formed a team, where she would help accelerate the speed of whatever vehicle he was using to get to fight crime and help victims quicker. In return, he would care of the vehicles and allowed her to do what she needed to do without interference.

As time passed, Bruce met the rest of the city spirits.

There was one in Crime Alley, sweet and tall for the age that she looked and laden with bloody pearls that made him avoid looking at her, who was kind and clever. She told him that she had awakened when his parents died, but her gentle condolences did not infuriate him like others did. ‘Jazz’ was her name, and she told him that she would watch over the children in her domain.

He traveled through Gotham City knowing that she would take care of Crime Alley whenever he couldn’t muster up the strength to enter.

There was one in the parks of Gotham, thin and oddly goth, who was stubborn and cool and extremely opinionated. She was even younger than the spirit in Crime Alley, and had a lot of opinions on garden care and vegetarianism. ‘Sam’, she wanted to be called, and she told him not to call her Samantha or she’d make him trip over roots.

He spent money on maintaining the parks in Gotham, and Alfred noted how his own personal gardens in Wayne Manor never seemed to die or wilt.

There was a growing spirit in the computers of the Batcave, gangly and quick-witted and mischievous, who was the same age as the park spirit and grew slowly with advancing technology and only appeared when Bruce was in a rush or desperate. He was named ‘Tucker’, and he liked helping, but only when it was interesting or when he was really needed.

Bruce carefully developed new software and installed better tech every opportunity he could, and the Batcomputer never failed him.

There was another in Arkham Asylum, stern and strong-looking, who was confident and hot-tempered and the same age as the Batcave spirit. She was brave and strong-willed, hating the more murderous patients of the asylum, but had all of the forgiveness and patience needed for the more misguided ones. Her name was ‘Valerie’, and she promised to hold back as many escapees as she could.

He captured runaway patients for her and visited her personally to thank her every time he heard of a failed escape attempt.

There was also a spirit that haunted the gargoyles of Gotham, wily and observant, who traveled from each stone statue for information. He liked investigating things, but hated injustice and lies, and he promised to help Bruce whenever he could find the strength to manifest. ‘Call me Wes’, he had said, before launching into a rant about how annoying the Gotham City spirit was.

They would occasionally exchange information every now and then, with Wes offering blackmail and details for every case he needed.

Bruce had only met the spirit of Blüdhaven once. He was aggressive and murderous, but when Batman had visited the second time for a case, he recognized all of the signs of a spirit’s protection, even though he also attempted to throw him off a few buildings. The Blüdhaven City spirit was hateful but not unreasonable, and although Bruce was encouraged by the other siblings, he decided to just leave the city alone because this ‘Dan’ did not like leaving his domain.

Bruce largely did not bother him. In the future, he would make more frequent trips and bring news of the spirits in Gotham. At least falling beams didn’t drop on him anymore.

He had already met Dani, who haunted the vehicles inside of the Batcave. She loved driving and flying and racing through any part of Gotham. When needed, she could transport herself into any and all vehicles owned by Bruce and his associates, and then power it to be even faster through the strength given to her by Gotham City and the determination of the driver. She was small in size but big in personality, and her carefree, fun-loving personality gave him much relief whenever he needed her as he traveled to wherever needed him most.

He took care of all of his vehicles and crafts, and she pushed him to help quicker.

And lastly, the most impressive and unimpressive spirit of all was the spirit of Gotham. He was a small thing, slender and unassuming, dressed in ragged clothes in his human form with the sharp, haunted eyes of a child from Crime Alley. His name was ‘Danny’, and although he seemed unnoticeable at first, he was noble and kind. When he wasn’t dressed in the starry veil of his spirit form, he was out and about on the streets, helping others as a homeless kid. He helped the forgotten, the downtrodden, the poor, and sick as best as he could.

Unlike his siblings and friends, who were weak and could not be out as a human for long, Danny was not the same. Looking like a small pre-teen, he helped his citizens as much as he could by offering shelter, an extra hand, some random change, and a careful warning.

He supported Bruce in any way that he could, and Bruce wanted nothing more than to make him proud by helping the city.

Time passed.

The spirits, having now awakened with Batman’s debut, began to grow up.

Bruce did not allow himself to be left behind. He grew and learned and trained and did better for his city. The spirits did not appear often, but whenever they were truly needed, they never let him down.

Only a few years into being Batman, he adopted Dick Grayson.

When Dick became Robin, he had been worried about the reaction of the spirits, but they had not appeared angry and even seemed approving, with the way they protected Dick more than Bruce.

He could’ve felt jealous, but really, it was just cute. With how old Dick was and how some of the spirits looked, they could’ve been the same age.

Barbara Gordon soon joined their crew as Batgirl, and the trio helped Gotham by running through its streets for a few more years.

When Bruce had fired Dick in hopes of him retiring and living a peaceful life without harm, Dick had changed his identity of Robin to Nightwing and moved to Blüdhaven.

Bruce nearly had a heart attack from the thought of it, but Danny had laughed and reassured him that Dan had readily accepted him and chosen him as a champion.

“A champion?” Bruce had asked. “What’s that?”

“A champion is a specific hero that a spirit can support and defend. You’re my champion,” Danny smiled, tapping the little batarang-shaped brooch near his heart. “That means I support you. Dan will support Nightwing. He’s possessive, so rest assured that Nightwing will be very, very protected by him.”

And so Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, let him go, and tried not to worry.

Not that long after, Bruce met Jason Todd, who was also quickly adopted.

Jazz had seemed particularly happy, always at the edge of Bruce’s vision whenever she could as he and Jason soared over Gotham roofs.

“Is he her champion?” Bruce had asked Danny. “Since he’s born and raised in Crime Alley?”

Danny chuckled, but he seemed tired. “You’ll see.”

Bruce did not see, because Jason had presumably thrown someone off of a building and then ran off to find his mother, getting killed in the process. By the time Batman had arrived in a plane with its engines nearly combusting from going so fast, it had been too late.

Jason, his son, was dead.

He would no longer smile and make quippy remarks. He would no longer help Alfred in the kitchen. He would no longer fall asleep on the manor’s library, an open book on his lap. He would no longer fly over Gotham and be his partner.

Red, yellow, and green would no longer be by Batman’s side.

Because Robin was dead.

The grief nearly consumed him. He blamed himself. He blamed the Joker. He blamed Jason. He blamed Dick.

He blamed the spirits.

Anything and everything was a target of his sorrow and rage.

He couldn’t help it.

He had already lost family once and became a vigilante to fight crime.

He didn’t know what to do now that he had lost family again, when the cause of death was vigilantism.

Gotham City wasted away as the spirits and Batman mourned for the little Robin who would never fly again, buried in Gotham soil.

Bruce mourned and hated everything in equal measure.

"It's your fault!" He screamed, as Danny stared at him blankly. He was dressed in his extravagant and otherworldly spirit form, his face and eyes covered by a long veil train covered in stars. His clean, neat form only seemed even more infuriating as Bruce felt like he was dissolving from his own madness. "If-If Jason hadn't been— if he had— if only—!"

Danny responded to none of his words until he insulted Jazz, the Crime Alley spirit, for Jason's death. It had been an irrational statement from grief, but they cared not one whit. All hell broke loose as Bruce was kicked off of the roof. He narrowly got away by using his grappling hook, but after that, things began to go badly.

Computer malfunctions, never ending pop music in the Batcave, engine failure, vehicles that refused to open or work properly, tree branches that deliberately slapped him or roots that tripped him on every step, sirens of the Arkham Asylum wailing every day and night, gorgoyles that would move and bat away his grappling hooks— the spirits began to turn against him in petty revenge and pranks.

It had not resulted in deaths of innocents, as even they knew limits, but they never failed to make his life even more miserable or inconvenient than ever.

It wasn't until Batman, in his exhaustion, nearly fell off of a roof and became a splatter on the ground in Crime Alley, and was picked up by the neck like a scruffed kitten by a disgruntled Crime Alley spirit, did it all stop.

"I see you haven't been having a good time," Jazz said. She looked like a teenager now, with her hair in ironed curls and a blindfold around her eyes as she frowned at him.

"... yes," Batman said, because he almost never apologized in his life and in his depression, felt like it was unfair that she got to act out while he could not.

"Batman," she said, her voice stern. "We mourn with you. After all, Jason is one of our own too. He came from my domain and I allowed you to meet him. Danny accepted him as a protector of Gotham and he flew alongside you for years. It was Dani that tried to get you to him faster. It is Danny's soil that he is buried in. His brother lives in Dan's domain as his champion. We all mourn for him, Batman. That does not give you the right to unnecessarily take your anger out on us or any of Gotham's citizens."

"I am meant to protect Gotham," he spat. "I was chosen as his champion!"

"And yet you're breaking limbs for petty crimes. You're terrorizing the streets like a madman. You're making the citizens scared. You are a symbol of redemption and change in this city, Batman. You are not a sign of fear or hatred. Get your act together. Batman is still needed."

Then she dropped him on the roof and left.

Bruce went back into mourning, licking his emotional wounds, but none of the spirits pranked him anymore.

They seemed... pitying.

Bruce apologized to Jazz and blamed it on grief. She forgave him easily, and his world was nothing but gray again.

He tried, but it was hard. Dick did not care enough to come help, lost in Dan's city and his own mourning for his little brother while Barbara had been forced onto the sidelines from her paralysis, which left Bruce on his own, adrift and untethered, unable to blame anyone and unable to unleash his anger. Alfred was there, but like always, he was only a stony pillar in his life. The spirits refused to handle his rage, so all that was left was just an ache for a lost son and a mindless need to run himself to the ground to perhaps quicken his journey to join his family again.

It was the spirits who helped him once more.

Danny subtly nudged Timothy Drake in his direction, and he soon became another Robin with Stephanie Brown and Cassandra Cain joining his team.

Bruce got better, but he was not perfect. He was still angry and hurt and ever-so-slightly lost. But he continued on.

After all, if he quit now, then what was all of this suffering for?

The spirits continued to assist him, along with his family. They were powerful, not omniscient, but no matter what, everything they did was for the betterment of Gotham City.

Time passed with Tim as his Robin, when Jason came back.

With a hunger for revenge and to test Bruce's love for him.

Bruce was so, so, so tired.

He loved his sons. His daughter(s). He loved his family and his duty and he loved Gotham City, but sometimes, it felt as though it was pulling him apart.

Danny and the other spirits (especially Jazz and Valerie) had always lectured him on taking breaks and knowing when to rest, of knowing his limits and being willing to quit when necessary, but Bruce always found it difficult.

As he watched Jason almost self-destruct in his rage and hatred, Bruce wondered if they would blame him if he quit here and now.

But he didn’t.

Things changed. Jason had changed from that sweet, intelligent, charming boy into a young man with a short fuse and an even quicker urge to kill. He beat up Tim, killed dozens of people, and took over the underworld, all to spite Bruce.

In a way, he was proud and so disappointed.

It was Jazz who approached him on the nights that Danny usually spent with him.

Bruce looked up at her, lovely and beautiful and so hauntingly tall that she looked like a monster, just like the domain she haunted, both dangerous and amazing all in one.

She bent down and shifted into her civilian form, one with black and white formal wear, her hair straightened into its natural state as she smiled with bright, turquoise eyes. This way, she looked soft and gentle, a little different from her cold and strict persona as a city spirit of the most violent part of Gotham.

“I can help you with Jason,” she said, when he turned to look at her. When his eyes widened, she continued, “I was going to do it anyways, but I want you to know what you need to do as well.”

“… what do I need to do?”

Jazz smiled. “Just try to welcome him back? It will all work out.”

“Both Jazz and I will help you,” Danny then spoke, from Bruce’s other side. When he turned, he saw Danny, dressed in a ratty hoodie and scuffed up sneakers. Danny smiled teasingly. “I can’t let my champion go without his family, right? Jason has been chosen as Jazz’s champion. You don’t have to agree with his methods, but that is a problem of Jazz and Jason.”

“And I don’t care,” Jazz said tonelessly. “I don’t like it, but it has proven effective. Do not try to stop him too much, Batman. He needs to learn for himself.”

Bruce scowled, hating the fact that both spirits condoned murders, even if they were the deaths of criminals and drug dealers, but Gotham City and Crime Alley had spoken and he had learned his lesson before in rejecting their advice and going against them.

They were not his enemies.

They did not have to agree with him, and he was not beholden to their beliefs either.

They trusted him, and they were his closest and longest allies.

He sighed. “I understand.”

Jazz smiled, patted his arm, and then disappeared back to her domain. Danny stayed behind and they chatted for a long while before he too, had to leave before coming back for the next meeting.

It was frustrating at times, how the spirits could not always be there, but Bruce knew that they could not help it. They still had not gained enough strength to appear constantly, and they tried their hardest to help him even in their passive states.

Bruce sighed and moved on to try and coax Jason into a healthier, less murderous lifestyle with a lot less lecturing and judging, which seemed to shock Dick and Jason. (He pretended not to be offended by this.)

When Bruce saw Jazz next time in her spirit form, he felt a little emotional and sentimental when she appeared with a symbol of Jason's Red Hood on her chest, tying her fur coat together as a brooch, not unlike the brooch on Danny’s chest that looked like Batman’s signal.

Jason got the help he needed from Jazz (Bruce wasn’t entirely sure how this was done since neither of them nor Danny said a word about it to him and Bruce knew that Jason had never met any of the spirits), and soon, he began to integrate himself back into the family. Tim was a little resistant at first, but things were looking up.

But this was life, where the chaos never ended.

Soon, Damian joined the team and tried to kill Tim. Bruce barely held himself back from shipping him straight back to the League, but Danny and Dani knocked some sense into him, and even Jazz came to scold him heavily. Bruce was lectured day and night by disappointed city spirits and eventually, he taught himself to be patient and kind to his youngest son, who had been torn away from a life he knew into one that was very, very different.

Damian was insufferable at times, but Bruce found that he truly did love his son. He grew up kind and honorable, and in the end, it felt worth it.

Bruce wished that life would become sunshine and rainbows, but this was Gotham City, covered in smog and clouds and haunted by a teenage ghost who was friends with a tech geek spirit and a goth spirit. Things happened one after another and although the spirits prevented some things from happening, it was inevitable that they could not help him when he was not on Gotham or Blüdhaven soil.

Bruce got knocked into the timestream. Danny traveled with him and throughout the different timelines, several other city spirits appeared, even Dan, and they helped him survive and get back to his family.

And finally, when Bruce was reunited with his family, with his sons and daughter and mentally adopted daughter and butler, he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

————

Things had been relatively peaceful now, with no major fights or violent disagreements between any of his children or family. Even the city had been calm for awhile, most like in preparation for the holidays.

Bruce snapped out of his memories when his children all turned to him, staring intensely for answers. He blinked as they all stared at him with wide eyes.

"B?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow, "what do you think?"

Bruce was quiet.

He hadn't meant to keep the secret for so long, but he just could never find an opportunity to bring it up.

Eventually, as his children all stared at him with growing concern, doubt, and confusion, he said, “No, it’s true. Both Gotham City and Blüdhaven are haunted.”

There were gasps and then cries of confusion and demands for answers. Tim looked at him for clarification, as Damian gloated over the fact that he and Tim already knew. Bruce’s lips twitched in a smile before Jason suddenly asked, “Wait a minute! If it really is haunted, then how do you know and not us? Did you meet them before?”

Bruce tilted his head as his children turned to look at him again. Then he said, “I knew them in my first year of being Batman.”

“That was before I adopted,” Dick muttered to himself, but everyone only looked even more interested.

“So you met them? The ghosts or whatever? Can we see them right now? Are they in the car?” Stephanie rambled.

Bruce thought about it. The spirits did not mind being outed (in fact, they had protested to being kept a secret and Bruce was constantly nagged about his poor habit of doing so), so they wouldn’t be angry if he brought the entire family to meet them now.

It was high time his children met the spirits of the city.

Bruce nodded. “I can take you to meet them. I have to give them their Christmas presents anyways.”

They all cheered again and burst with more questions. Bruce ignored them, even Dick who was climbing him like a tree and whining to know more, as he collected the presents that he had gotten for the spirits. He went to the Batcomputer, still ignoring Dick and Cass who were now hanging off of him, and typed a short message into a document.

‘Meet up at Amusement Mile in 10 minutes.’

He left it open, as Tim then asked, “You can communicate with the ghost through the Batcomputer? Are they actually ghosts?”

“You’ll see,” Bruce said, as Dick and Cass were now attempting to choke him for answers. He collected a few more presents and a laptop. He tossed his kids off of him and dodged another attempt by Steph to catch him before he whistled.

He threw a pair of keys to Jason, who looked at it, confused.

“Take that bike, will you?” Bruce asked, pointing to the shiny new black adventure bike. “You can follow after the car.”

Jason whistled as he finally recognized the new bike. “Damn! When the hell did you get this beauty?”

Stephanie raised a hand enthusiastically. “Can I come with?!”

“Hop on, blondie. Can we go now?”

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh.

For a moment, he was unsure of himself.

For so long, the existence of the spirits were solely his. No one around him knew that they were there.

And now, both sides, his family and the spirits, would be officially meeting for the first time.

He shook off the thoughts and got into the Batmobile, where the rest of his team followed. He made sure that all of them were wearing the appropriate gear and uniform, since it was already winter and only growing colder. Damian complained but Dick was able to wrap a scarf around his neck.

Bruce didn’t fully close the door again when Alfred walked into the cave and asked, “When will all of you expect to be back, Master Bruce?”

He paused. Then he said, “Do you want to come with, Alfred?”

“Oh dear. Whatever for?”

“To meet the ghosts!” Damian spoke up for Bruce. “Come with us, Pennyworth. It’ll surely be interesting.”

Alfred sighed, though there was a touch of fondness before he also entered the Batmobile. Cass easily surrendered the passenger seat to him, slipping into the back.

Jason, from the new bike, laughed and crowed, “Hell yeah! Now it’s a full party!”

Bruce couldn’t resist a smile as he patted the steering wheel. The Batmobile began to purr and soon enough, they all sped out of the cave and through the streets of Gotham. The sun was starting to set, casting the world in orange hues. His children were all in the backseat, chattering and making theories as Jason and Stephanie joined in on their own comms. Both he and Alfred sat together in companionable silence as Bruce idly drove.

Then, as they reached a good spot, he let go of the wheel and said, “Dani, your turn.”

The car swerved out of control and just as Tim and Dick yelped loudly, the car steadied itself, straightening, and then immediately went into overdrive, zipping through the streets. The view outside of the windows passed into a colorful blur too fast to see as the engine rumbled like thunder.

“Holy Batman!” Dick screamed with a laugh as they swerved and turned crazily, narrowly dodging a sharp corner.

Everyone in the car tilted dramatically before Dani righted the car again and they all dropped back into their seats.

“Good heavens!” Alfred cried, hanging onto his chair tightly with wide eyes as the car continued accelerating into impossible speeds.

Bruce just smiled, sitting still while his kids were all squealing from the rapid maneuvers of Dani. They all looked like they were having fun though, and Bruce just held tightly onto the presents as Dani approached Amusement Mile.

After nearly jumping over the gates, she immediately slowed down to a smooth halt in front of an empty food court in the abandoned theme park.

“Oh my god, I think I’m dizzy,” Tim complained.

“You’re so weak,” Damian snipped back, although he looked a little dazed himself. Meanwhile, Cass and Dick were beaming wide smiles, looking as though they wanted to do that again.

“The autopilot wasn’t on, so was that one of the ghosts who controlled the car?” Dick asked cheerfully.

Bruce nodded, avoiding Alfred’s sharp glares. “You’ll meet them all today.” He left the car, helping out Cass and Tim. Jason and Stephanie arrived moments later.

“B! What the hell?! Why were you going so fast?!”

“It was the ghost!” Tim said. “He was controlling the car.”

“‘She’,” Bruce corrected. “It’s a she that’s controlling the car.”

When everyone turned to look at him critically for more answers, he turned his face away and opened up the laptop that he took from the Batcave. He opened it and placed it on a table placed in the outside food court. It turned on with a blink and Bruce put in the password.

“… did you just type 696969?” Stephanie asked, sounding extremely amused.

Bruce sighed as his kids all snickered like preteen boys.

The place around them was empty and dusty. His children, after observing him for a moment as he typed away on the laptop, silently found seats around him at the tables of the food court, all seated close to each other. Alfred remained standing, looking around in a slightly confused fashion but unwilling to say a word. Bruce looked down at his feet, where grass and weeds were growing in the cracks of the neglected cement.

Then he focused on the laptop again and pressed a few buttons on the laptop before taking a step back.

His kids all perked up. Even Alfred straightened the tiniest bit.

There was a crackle.

And then—

“Batman!” A voice called.

Everyone turned to look at the car, where Dani was sitting on top. She was dressed in her civilian clothes, a pair of jeans and a regular sweater. She waved happily, lovely and warm like sunshine. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and when she hopped off of the roof of the Batmobile, it bounced around her face in wild waves.

She approached and everyone but Bruce stared in confusion and fascination.

“I thought I’d finally come out since you didn’t say anything,” Dani explained to Bruce. She turned to his kids and waved. A few waved back.

A new voice appeared. “Ugh, what took you so long to bring me here?”

Tucker stretched. He was also in his civilian form and he wiggled his fingers playfully when the others whipped their heads around to gape at him. He sat down at a table and said, “You took forever to bring me out. When is everyone else coming?”

“Already here,” Sam said, bored and in full goth, stepping out of a patch of grass to sit next to Tucker. “Wassup, Bruce.”

Bruce acknowledged her with a nod.

“We’re here,” Wes said, coming out of the walls with Valerie by his side. Both were also dressed casually. “Sorry, are we late?”

“We still have the other three,” Sam said. “B is introducing us to his kids.”

“Finally!” Valerie snapped, sitting down with a huff. “We’ve been telling you to tell them for so long!”

Bruce said, “I know, but none of them figured it out until now.”

“Hey,” Dick complained, “How are we supposed to know? They’re ghosts!”

Bruce gave him a level look. “Through observation and careful inspection. You should’ve—“

“Lay off of them, Bruce,” Sam interrupted with a small smile. “We kept ourselves hidden from them because it seemed like you didn’t want them to know.”

At this, everyone glared at Bruce, while he just sighed. Dani spoke up and said, “It was because I was careless today that they noticed. Don’t blame it on them.”

Another figure stepped out of the shadows and Jason startled, standing up. “Wolf?” He blurted, and Bruce looked over to see Jazz walking to them, a black helmet over her head and wearing a bodysuit. She paused when she saw Jason, gave a small wave, and then sat down next to Dani, who cheered when she saw her.

“Jazz!” She said, tackling her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Jazz laughed. “What are you talking about? We saw each other the other day, remember?”

The five spirits burst into excited chatter, since it was rare that they ever met up like this, all together at once. Usually, it was only a few one-on-one meetups and Bruce knew this, so he stayed silent as did his family, giving the spirits the space needed to chat while also allowing his family to observe. Jason looked moody, but didn’t say a word.

Out of nowhere, Dan dropped in from the air, dressed in a stained bartender’s uniform. He scowled at Bruce.

“Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere closer to Blüdhaven? I had to travel over the entirety of Gotham City just to get here!”

Bruce bowed his head in apology. “I’m sorry. Next time, I’ll make sure it’s closer.”

Dan scoffed. “You better,” he snapped, before he made a complete 180 and beamed at his sisters. “Jazz! Dani! You’re looking lovely today!”

Bruce’s family stared between him and the Blüdhaven city spirit.

“Are there… more?” Stephanie asked, after sneaking over to him while the tables of spirits chatted.

Bruce nodded and raised a finger for one.

Tim also slid over and said, “They don’t look like ghosts.”

Damian, having crept alongside Tim, muttered, “They don’t look important or powerful either. Father, what is going on?”

Alfred sighed. “Young masters, please sit down and stop standing around and whispering.”

They sat down. Tim and Steph shared a seat, both hanging on via a buttcheek as Damian had pushed Tim off of his. Bruce didn’t say a word, though he was inwardly exasperated and already regretting this entire meeting.

Dick was staring at Dan critically, while Jason was staring at Jazz with a frown. They obviously knew each other, but Bruce still didn’t know how. Cass was just looking between all of the spirits, looking slightly confused.

Finally, the last guest arrived. Footsteps sounded from nearby and Danny jogged over to them with an easy smile.

“Sorry, am I late?”

“Yes!” All of the spirits shouted, glaring at him.

Danny just grinned and then looked over at Bruce. “Hello. Finally showing us off?”

Bruce nodded. Then he stood up and said, “Everyone. Meet the city spirits of Gotham City and Blüdhaven.” He began to gesture to them as he gave introductions. “This is Dani, the spirit of the Batvehicles. She controls all of the Batvehicles in the cave. This is Tucker, the Batcomputer spirit. This is Sam, spirit of all plant life in Gotham City. This is Wes, spirit of Gotham City gargoyles. This is Valerie, the Arkham Asylum spirit.”

This earned several shocked looks and gasps. Valerie gave a polite nod with a hint of pride. Bruce moved on.

“And this is Jazz, the Crime Alley spirit.” Jason’s expression twitched. “This is Dan, the city spirit of Blüdhaven, and this is Danny, the city spirit of Gotham City.”

Danny smiled at them.

When he finished, there was a burst of noise and confusion. Bruce endured it all for a moment before he raised a hand, quieting everyone, and then said, “Let me explain.”

Bruce talked about how he noticed them in his first year of being Batman (he got a very strong glare from Alfred for keeping this from him), then how he met Dani and befriended all of the other spirits. He talked about how they helped him, how they accepted the Robins as protectors of the city alongside Batman, how they taught him and assisted him in vigilantism, and how they were fundamental in protecting him and the city.

He went on to explain what and who they were in more detail, and when he described Jazz and Danny, everyone stared in a mixture of disbelief and awe. When it was done, everyone just stared at him with bafflement on their faces.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. Alfred’s gaze was especially cutting.

“Wait… so… you’re saying that these all-powerful spirits look like… this?” Stephanie asked, clearly trying not to be rude as she gestured to them all.

Tucker snorted. “This isn’t our real form. It’s just our civilian one, so we can interact with you guys.”

Tim asked, “Could we see it? Your real forms?” He turned to look at Bruce questioningly, who just looked at Danny.

Danny shrugged with a smile and waved a hand in front of his face. In an instant, a veil slid over his head and back, inky black with twinkling stars lighting up the inside. He wore a formal vest and cape tie, with his coat shoulder robing him. His brooch shone brightly over his heart.

The air began to chill even further than the winter night.

Jazz took off her helmet and her red hair fell down in curly waves, her bodysuit exchanging for a dark fur coat and a long, blue dress with black gloves. Pearls circled her throat and wrists, dripping with blood. Her brooch flashed and Jason straightened his back at the sight of it.

Dan sighed and his bartender uniform melted away into a dark blue policeman uniform, formal and distinct. His skin turned translucently green and his hair bled white. His hat covered his eyes as he leaned back in his chair slowly. His brooch, cut in the shape of Nightwing’s symbol, was bright against his dark clothes.

Tucker waved his hands and his casual ware was exchanged for a high-tech suit that wasn’t dissimilar to Batman’s own appearance. However, there was no cape and the color was more gold and brown than black and gray. The white eyes were exchanged for a visor that flashed.

Sam brushed a hand against her skirt and her outfit turned into green and purple, something like what Poison Ivy would wear stretching and growing over her skin. Leafy clothes and flowery details covered her body until she could’ve blended into a garden perfectly. Flowers began to pop into existence beneath them all.

Wes shook his head and everything about him turned into granite. His clothes became formal, like a suit from the 1800s, and horns and wings began to grow from his head and back stiffly. He sat in his chair, unmoving and still.

Valerie flicked her hair behind her head and her yellow clothes began to bleed into white with red stains. She wore a uniform that looked like the combined versions of both a nurse and a doctor, with a cloth covering her mouth and red goggles over her eyes. Her curly hair seemed to have grown even messier.

Dani was the last to show off her form, and she spread her arms and her clothes transformed into that unique style she had developed not too long ago, something that looked like a cross between Batman and Robin. It was all black and gray, with yellow, green, and red accents. She had a bright yellow belt and a long cape that glimmered with holographic shapes.

“Ta da!” She cheered. “What do you all think?”

The air had become bone-freezing cold, frost appearing on Bruce’s eyelashes and his breath turning into white clouds. It was cold before, but now it was blood curdling. There was a pause where the spirits all looked at each other before they switched back in an instant, and the temperature flew up, warming them immediately.

Everyone sighed from the relief, and Bruce handed Alfred his cape, who sighed before taking it begrudgingly. Then in that moment, his kids stood up and approached the spirits as they immediately went to chat with one another, completely ignoring Bruce.

Dick ambushed Dan, who didn’t seem unhappy with him as he was immediately pulled into an animated conversation with him. Bruce recalled how Jazz and Dani talked about how much Dan liked his eldest son, so it was no surprise.

Dani was chatting with Stephanie and Cass, waving her arms exaggeratedly as she talked. Steph looked at her like she was the cutest thing on the planet, while Cass stared at her like she was an interesting, but endearing bug underneath a magnifying glass.

Damian and Tim were chatting with Valerie, Sam, and Wes in a serious conversation. They seemed to be debating something, with Damian and Valerie mostly doing the talking with Tim and Sam interjecting every once in awhile. Wes looked as though he was trying to instigate an argument, however, as everyone glared at him whenever he talked.

Jason had already pulled Jazz into a corner of the building, and they leaned against the wall and talked quietly, shoulders pressed together.

It looked… intimate.

Bruce almost wanted to march over there and pull them apart, but he barely held back when Danny and Tucker approached their table. Tucker immediately pulled Alfred into a conversation about the maintenance of the Batcomputer, mostly with the both of them complaining about how the kids were so messy around the keyboard.

Danny sat next to Bruce and said, “So why did you call us here?”

Bruce blinked, pulling his gaze away from his son and the spirit of Crime Alley. “What?”

“Why’d you call us here? You usually don’t summon us all at once.”

Bruce said, “Dani accidentally revealed herself to Tim and Dami. I thought it was high time that I introduced all of you.” Danny looked back at his siblings, all who were deep into their conversations.

Bruce followed his gaze, watching his kids have fun and make friends with the spirits.

He felt satisfied, looking at them. He wanted nothing more than for his children to be happy, safe, and protected. The spirits had helped him many times when he was still starting out as Batman, giving his advice and narrowly saving his life multiple times.

Now, hopefully, they would help his children too.

Bruce continued, “And it’s Christmas.”

Danny didn’t turn to look at him, only humming, “That’s true. It is the holiday season.”

“I got you and the rest of the spirits presents,” Bruce said, and Danny perked up.

“What?! Are you for real?!” Danny cried excitedly. “Can I see? Please? Now?”

Bruce laughed. He presented the gift to him, and when the other spirits took notice, they also approached, pulling away from their conversations. Jason and Jazz were the last to come over.

“Ooh, what is it?”

“Open it!”

“Do we also get one?”

Bruce passed out their gifts as his kids also crowded around and heckled them into opening it.

One by one, they all opened their gifts.

Dani received a bucket full of (human) treats and snacks, with a bottle of motor oil at the bottom. She cheered when she saw it and immediately opened a bag of gummies to share with everyone else.

Sam received several packs of the seeds of poisonous flowers and plants. She happily took it as the people around her took a wary step back away from her.

Tucker received a Bluetooth speaker. He declared that he would use it to annoy Bruce and Tim into sleeping whenever they stayed up too late, and everyone but Bruce and Tim cheered.

Wes received a high quality camera. Tim offered to help him use it efficiently, and he accepted, with both of them leaving the table to chat about it.

Valerie received a tube full of anesthesia. Like Sam, everyone took a step away from her as she hugged the capsule to herself.

Jazz received the bike that Bruce had asked Jason to bring. She jumped up and down and thanked him profusely and for some reason, Jason glared at him for it.

Dan received a photo album. He took a peek and then closed it tight, smiling to himself as he refused any questions asked. Bruce knew it was a photo album of the few times he was able to take pictures of the spirits, as well as an entire horde of Dick’s photos.

Danny received the deed to a new building built in Gotham City, an observatory tower for the stars. When he saw it, his face split into a beaming smile like a miniature sun and when the other spirits saw it, they also congratulated him, especially Dani who wanted to see it as well.

“It’s still being built,” Bruce explained, but Danny didn’t seem to care.

“Thank you so much!” He said happily, admiring the deed to the building in his hands.

Bruce felt various eyes from both spirits and humans on him. He didn’t mind. He smiled and enjoyed how much they all loved the gifts they got from him, gifts that they deserved. As all of the spirits admired their presents and chatted with his children, Alfred turned to him.

“If I recall correctly, I believe that you have mentioned them before. They must have been the friends you mentioned a long time ago, hm?”

Bruce nodded. “They’ve been with me since I first started.”

Alfred hummed. “They seem like good children.”

Bruce smiled and nodded again.

The hours passed and eventually, Sam and Valerie couldn’t handle the strain anymore. They disappeared back into their domains, signaling the end of the reunion. More and more spirits began to leave, with waning enthusiasm as their strength was being drained from being out too much. The car and laptop were left behind by Dani and Tucker when they disappeared. Only Jazz and Danny seemed relatively fine, as the rest began to leave back to their haunts. They still looked tired though, and Jazz politely excused herself.

“You’re leaving already?” Jason asked, as Jazz straddled her bike.

She nodded, her helmet covering her face once more.

“We’ll talk more later?” Jazz said, and Jason gave a firm nod.

“At 2. At the usual place.”

She nodded and left, fading into shadows.

Danny was the only one left. He held the deed in his hands and smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Bruce. You should go home now. Spend some time with your family. We appreciate the gifts you’ve given to us, champion, and do not worry, we will watch over the city and your family.”

Bruce gave a nod.

Danny reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. The weight of it was heavy and significant, but it also spread a warmth through Bruce’s body.

It was an extra blessing for the night.

Bruce gave him a minuscule dip of his head. Danny just smiled and like a cloud, dissipated.

Bruce released a small sigh of relief.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure what he had felt about his kids and the spirits meeting. He wanted the spirits to protect them. He wanted his kids to accept them. He was just… scared. For some reason.

But everything had gone well.

The spirits had always loved his children, and his kids were never probably not able to offend them. After all, they were also vigilantes of Gotham, and all of them risked their lives on the daily to help the city.

It was no shock that they got along like a house on fire.

The blessings of the spirits meant a lot.

His children would now have extra help by their side to keep them safe if he wasn’t able to.

It was Cass that spoke up and brought him out of his thoughts.

“B? Home now?”

Bruce nodded.

He felt… strangely full. Like eating a full meal. He felt satisfied and content.

He smiled, then. “Shall we go do some last minute Christmas shopping?”

Alfred sighed, as the kids cheered, enthusiastically agreeing since they now wanted to open their own gifts after watching the spirits. Bruce couldn’t help but laugh as Cass stuck by his side and Damian insisted on picking another fight with Tim with Jason instigating as always.

Bruce blinked and looked up as he felt something cold fall over his face.

Snowflakes drifted down, bright against the dark sky.

Alfred hummed. “It’s snowing. Master Bruce, shall we go back into the Batmobile?”

Bruce smiled.

“Yes. Let’s go.”

It was Christmas Eve. And with his family by his side and the blessings of the spirits, Bruce had nothing else to worry about for awhile.

“Wait, B! We’re not patrolling today?”

Bruce shook his head. The spirits had agreed to patrol for him, so he could spend the entire day with his family. They all looked surprisingly hopeful at him, even Jason.

Yes, it was a good day today.

Tomorrow would be even better.

“Nope. Today and tomorrow are days all to ourselves!”

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Merry Christmas (Eve)! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic. It’s scary how the year is already starting to end. Ty to @meditating-cat for betaing my fic for me!

Me: *writing a Bruce-sympathetic fic*

Me: Is this character development (for me)?

This fic is meant to be comical and fun, so I tried to breeze past the sad parts as best as I could.

At one point, Danny was acting too mature and this fic was starting to look like a Spirit Halloween ship fic, so I had to quickly change things up :,/

This fic is inspired by this idea specifically, but also about the Gotham City spirit Danny AU on my blog here. (Look at the tags for more).

Wolf is Jazz’s vigilante name and she is part of my assistant!Jazz AU.

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ahqkas · 25 days ago

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hey goergous!! I've been BINGING your writing on the batboys and I absolutely love them!! Is there a chance you can do Costco runs with the batboys? Weird idea but I was just at Costco and was thinking about it hahaha!! Thank you!!! ❤️🦇

♯HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH WITH YOU ( the batboys accompanying you to costco ! )

— gn!reader, bruce & dick & jason ( separated ), i had to google what costco is so i hope i got it right !! fluff, this is so short i’m sorry 😣

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

THE MERE IDEA OF BRUCE WAYNE IN SUCH A SHOP WAS AS SURREAL AS ENDEARING. it happened during a simple saturday morning, still when many people were busy sleeping in, when you got to the task at your hand: grocery shopping.

you glanced over at your company, noting how his well tailored black sweater and dark jeans contrasted with the whole place and its contents. his classy clothing looked so out of place among the sea of puffy jackets, hoodies, and sneakers. yet, as always, he didn’t seem to mind. he almost looked comfortable ( if you could call the expression on his face by that word ) by your side, but you had your suspicions it was only because he was with you.

he pushed the cart with one hand, his other resting warmly on your lower back as he guided you through the place like he knew exactly where to go. you’d begged him to come with you—not because you couldn’t do it alone, but because you were curious about him in such a place. the idea of bruce wayne, a billionaire who owned sprawling estates and could have groceries delivered with a snap of his finger, was far too good to pass on.

bruce picked up a bulk-sized box of protein granola bars and studied it like he was deciphering a riddle from the riddler himself. “do we eat these?”

you tilted your head towards him, eyes flickering between his handsome face and the bars in his hands. he managed to look good even under those fluorescent lights. “i eat them. you inhale them after your patrols.

a flicker of smirk danced on his lips while his free arm tightened around your waist, tossing the box into the cart with a nod of his head. “point taken, sweetheart.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

the idea to shop at costco was his.

it was funny to watch him move through the shop, one hand pushing the cart while he held your hand with the other. ( “costco? are you kidding? i love costco,” he’d said with excitement filling his voice, practically dragging you out the door before you could protest. ) . now, you were strolling through various aisles with your boyfriend. dick was dressed in his usual hoodie and jeans, although you knew he was hiding his suit under the casual clothes. his blue eyes sparkled whenever he discovered something that was ‘essential’ for your home.

“do we really need a 10 pound tub of peanut butter?”

“we do now.”

it was nice seeing him like this, doing normal things like shopping for once. he scanned the rows of fresh fruit like a normal guy instead of the acrobatic vigilante who swung through blüdhaven’s skyline every night. dick picked up a bag of green apples and tossed it into the cart. they’d bruise, no doubt. “do you approve of these?”

“i approve of anything that gets you to eat actual food instead of protein bars and instant noodles,” you pinched his biceps, feeling the muscle flex under your touch.

he swatted your hand away. “hey, i make a mean bowl of mac and cheese.”

“you mean you open a mean box of mac and cheese.”

dick shrugged with an ashamed smile on his face, hand reaching out and picking up a tub of pre-cut pineapple. “there. that’s balance right here. carbs and fruit. meal prep done.”

. . . JASON TODD !

THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR GROANED UNDER THE WEIGHT OF WHAT FELT LIKE AN ENTIRE GROCERY STORE as jason hefted yet another bag onto his shoulder, the plastic handles straining under the bulk of sparkling water. his leather jacket creaked with the movement, and a few stray strands of his dark hair fell across his forehead as he turned to you with a playful look on his face.

“explain to me again,” he drawled out lowly, “why two people need this much stuff?”

you shrugged your shoulders and leaned casually against the car while sipping your iced coffee, looking far too pleased with yourself ( which you kinda were ). “because it’s costco, jay. you don’t go in for just a few things. you go in, black out, and come out with a year’s supply of paper towels and enough food to survive the apocalypse.”

your boyfriend huffed a laugh at that, shaking his head as he grabbed another bag, this one balanced with a carton of eggs and a bag of frozen chicken nuggets. “pretty sure you’re prepping for more than just the apocalypse. you’ve got enough granola bars in here to feed an entire boy scout troop.”

“don’t act like you’re not going to eat half of those on your next patrol.”

jason ate like he was the entire boy scout troop.

“fair point,” he admitted and you watched as his lips twitched into a smirk. jason had this way of making even the most normal activities feel like they were charged with a kind of electricity. the way he moved, the way he joked — it all carried that signature side of him.

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gothamhappiness · 5 months ago

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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

Part 2

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x s/o #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x s/o #red hood imagine #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson #batfamily #batfam x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months ago

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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.

#hanna writes✯#jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd #batfam #red hood #red hood x reader #requests #fem!reader #dc comics x reader

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enviedear · 2 months ago

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･*:｡☃︎⁺₊❅. 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

#—oliviaspeaks !#jason todd x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #dick grayson x reader #redhood x reader #nightwing x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader

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444st4rg1rl · 1 month ago

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→ 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.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #dcu #dc comics #dc #batman #jason todd has been living rent free in my head for 7 years now

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ravenna-reid · 1 year ago

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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.

#jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fluff #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood imagine #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood angst #batfamily #dcu #dc comics #jason peter todd

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missbluesunflowersstuff · 1 year ago

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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

#dc comics #batfamily #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #tim drake #batfam #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #jonathan samuel kent #just me thinking about super angst vampire damian wayne now #do is he happy with this life?#i have so many thoughts

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blackreaderfics · 1 year ago

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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.

#dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x reader #x black reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x batsis #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x female!reader #it’s my birthday month so! longer fic than usual #also I hit 100+ followers already 🫣#thanks for reading y’all #brfwrites

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