#Jason muse

[imxthexhandler]

[Continued from here.]

@fallen-sons: “Right here in the back seat of the car… You got to live a little and let loose sometimes detective” Jason laying her down and undoing her pants.

Amelia blushed, propping herself up on her elbows, watching him intently. “Are you going to take off the mask this time?” she asked, her voice soft, curious. Her hands lightly rub his closed thighs, feeling her heart race with anticipation.

[byeke]

their reactions are based on the emotional turmoil I went through seeing Bruce in the Nightwing suit for the first time

he looks so exposed....

(based on Nightwing #116 - panels under the cut)

nevermind the fact that bruce stripped butt naked in front of babs and probably at least 2 apartment buildings

[ghost-bxrd]

*rubs hands together, slams palms on table*

Okay, you guys heard of “Jason inherited the adoption problem and now Tim is baby”, now get ready for…

Reverse!Robins, where Jason tries to steal from newly minted crime lord Tim and gets flash adopted before Batman can claim another one for his child soldier team!

[totallynotashieldagent]

falling for jason todd happens slowly and then all at once

it starts with lazy pre-patrol Friday evenings. he knows you don't have work in the morning so he stays for a snack before heading out.

it turns into "hey wanna watch a movie?" which turns into "I'm ordering food for us" and then you're lying on the couch at other ends but your feet are in his lap as top gun plays on the TV and he doesn't even realize he's doing it but he's rubbing the tension out of your heels.

it turns into "oh my office has a workshop for first aid happening" and you take it because you figure you should know how to patch him up after the bad nights

that turns into him showing up on a Tuesday night, which NEVER happens but he's on edge and he's anxious and he doesn't know what else to do and he just needs a hug and you do it.

you hold him until he stops shaking and he falls asleep on you like a weighted blanket.

maybe in hindsight, that is where it all started. waking up in a mess of limbs and untangling yourself, pushing him off until he falls on the ground and you laugh before leaving to get ready for work and... he doesn't leave. he's there when you come back in the evening because he just- he doesn't have an answer except, he didn't want to go.

you shrug and say you don't mind and you continue with your evening errands and chores and he orders food and during it all you realize how... domestic this all is.

it's a wednesday evening and he knows gotham is waiting for him but tonight...just tonight, he wasn't something calm, something normal.

the air is thick but neither of you address it. and he leaves eventually with unsaid words and confusion hanging in his mind.

the routine of friday night hangouts continue but every touch is more.. electric and neither of you say anything because you really do think that it's just in YOUR mind and the other doesn't feel that way at all.

it goes on for weeks and weeks until the tension gets so bad that you're snapping at each other for even breathing too loud but still you're in the same space because you can't handle the thought of being a part

it goes on for an embarrassing long time because even though the love is requited, you're both just fucking idiots

it goes on until a bad patrol night and he shows up with a bunch of knives sticking out of his back and instead of going to a safehouse or alfred, he's here. with you. and your hands are shaking because this surgery level shit and you took a BASIC aid workshop. you're crying silently as you do your best to fix him even with the Lazarus healing kicking in and you keep whispering to yourself "not yet not yet not like this not like this not before I can say-"

and everything just ...freezes

"Before what?" He rasps, his breath laboured and hard

"It's nothing-" You whisper and continue to bandage him

so he twists his back and looks at you, asking again.

"Before what?" His eyes are glowing green as his wounds are slowly starting to heal under your fingertips. "Please-" He strains. "Before what?"

"Before I can be brave enough-" You swallow, your shaking hands pressed against the bandage of his back

"Brave enough for...?" He whispers, his eyes darting across your face, memorizing every feature. Your eyes, your Cupid's bow, your parted lips-

"For this-" You finally take a leap and press your lips to his.

Drabble Master List.

[imxthexhandler]

( @fallen-sons; @blizzardmuses)

always thinking about nick robles version of Jason Todd

[godlyrots]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓.

PAIRING — jason todd x fox!reader.

SYNOPSIS — you can't stay mad at him.

WORD COUNT — 1126.

WARNINGS + CONTENT — pre-established relationship, previous fwb relationship. oral, fem receiving. marking. might be ooc. use of petnames. making out + messy kissing if you squint? got kind of poetic in some places for whatever reason, i'm just vv sleepy. not proof read at all lmao so if you see mistakes ignore them.

AUTHOR'S NOTE — introducing fox!reader. i've only seen the animal!reader thing the OBX fandom but since i haven't seen anyone ( to my knowledge ) do this for DC i wanted to try. i'll have different iterations of readers who'll have different personality types + aesthetics based on different animals/what i come up with for them. but they are people, not hybrids.

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

"you smell nice." you're whispering into his ear and your voice is rough from hours of rehearsal with your band and jason's hands are nestled on your thighs. he kneads at the pliant flesh, his calluses providing a contrast to the smooth skin in his palms. he lets out a soft hum once your teeth find the spot you know he likes.

he's got that familiar cologne on, filled with woody elements and that beautifully rich, musky scent. it was a gift from you for his birthday last year and he wore it until the bottle was empty and sat on a shelf in his closet and he bought a new one. it wasn't the first time you've been like this, this was your way of apologizing and you knew how to be physically affectionate even if you can't verbalize it. he slightly cranes his neck once your lips work to leave hickies on his skin, the old ones were fading into a light pink hue. you stopped once his phone lit up though and jason's hand reaches for it absentmindedly on the couch beside him.

he types out a response to who you imagine to be one of his friends but he quickly places in back down and focuses on you and his eyes rake over your pouty lips with your lip gloss and lipstick all over him. you can't help but try to remove your berry coloured products off his skin. his thumb works on your bottom lip and wipes off the remaining product. "still mad?" he asks with a low voice, in a tiny mini-skirt you're all the more attractive to him. you fight the warmth that fills your belly as wetness dribbles onto your underwear.

jason secretly loves when you fight despite the fact that he thinks some of your arguments are pointless, but seeing you riled up and angry in your little skirts or a mixture his baggy shirts and shorts or just underwear. he knows that he fucked up, you guys don't keep secrets but by the end of your fights he knows that you'll end up laying on your back with his head between your thighs or you on your knees with his cock in your mouth. either way you didn't complain because you're sure that you loved watching him as much as he loved watching you.

"little bit." you're telling him as he looks at you with that same hardened expression despite him understanding that he did hurt you. his justification didn't really matter, not right now. "i hate lying, you shouldn'a done it." you add on to the few words you'd said and your voice was still hoarse.

"m'sorry, doll"

"m'sorry too, just don't hide things from me."

. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . . ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * . .   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

you have a fistful of jason's hair in your hands as his tongue laps at your wetness and sucks on your clit like it's the only thing on his mind. the noises from both of you are borderline obscene as he keeps a steady hand on your thigh and your whines are increasing in volume, even with the music to cover up the noise. he's pulling you into him as you squirm and bite back the moans that are climbing up your throat and past your lips. "christ, jay—" you're whimpering now and it almost feels pathetic but your body is one fire, the warmth of his skin of you feels illicit and jason doesn't come up for air.

he pumps his cock with his free-hand in his pants as he listens to you and with the added pent up frustrations of you not speaking for several days and your earlier escapades has got his head spinning. he can't get over listening to you, seeing you, feeling you. it's like he's this fiend and no matter what he does he'll never rid himself of this vice, this addiction and this longing. you don't hear what he says between your thighs as it's muffled by your plush skin but you know it's something absolutely disgusting.

"y'feel too good, baby."

he can't help but moan as he continues to both eat you out and fuck his fist and he can't get enough. jason's almost dedicated to getting you off, each touch is an apology, it might as well be an act of worship 'cause this is the closest he's ever felt to god. i'm sorry, m'sorry, i'm sorry. with each lick, rut of your lips or collection of each drop of your delicious arousal.

you instinctively raise your hips once he works your clit particularly well but he pushes you back down before you can blink properly. jason knows that you're close, he can feel how you clench around his tongue as he works on your puffy cunt, he's a man with a cause, a mission. you were already horny when you decided to mark him up, leave little reminders of you but god, he's so everything.

"right there. s'perfect jay." you tell him, voice filled with lust and genuine adoration. you feel your orgasm creep up on you and he harshly sucks on your little clit and doesn't stop until you're squirming and trying to squeeze your legs together as a way to self-soothe and have the ache subside but it was no use. he doesn't stop until your cum is coating the bottom half of his face and jason's head moves up from between your legs with low eyes that don't peer away from your pussy. it takes a lot in him, everything he has, even to stop himself from eating you out until you're writhing underneath him but you seem pretty spent.

your chest is heaving and you've got these haphazard breaths that stall every few seconds and your skin is warm, covered in a mixture of sweat and your shea butter lotion that's permanently stuck in jason's mind. you kiss him so feverishly that you can taste yourself on his tongue once it enters your mouth and you're moaning into it. he pulls away though, too quickly you think, with swollen, puffy lips and those dazed eyes like he just got some of the best head of his life.

"forgive me?"

you nod once your breathing calms down and your eyes catch the lipstick and hickies all over his neck that scream you're mine.

"guessin' that means you want your dick sucked?"

there's a slight beat of silence before he agrees with you. "fuckin' blue-balled myself f'you. it's only fair."

you roll your eyes before moving from the couch to the carpeted floors infrontt of you and you're on your knees. jason's hand pulls down his pants until they're down to his ankles and he's holdin' up your cute little boho braids up with his hand.

"whatever."

[anthaeum]

wc. 415

the curtains were blue. the couch was gray. jason grace was leaning dangerously close. the table was round. the curtains were blue.

you could hear your heart performing a drum solo under the cotton of your shirt. you could smell jason’s cologne. the curtains were blue. you felt so warm. you felt like throwing up. the curtains were blue. you were sure that you would have fallen down a while ago if not for jason’s arms supporting you at the waist.

to say you were nervous and shy and not ready was an understatement. in this moment, you would rather look at anything else but him. a myriad of thoughts dazed your mind, “would i be a good kisser?” being the most prominent one.

he calls your name, and you offer him a small smile. you don't dare look up.

“i’m sorry, jay, i guess i’m just… nervous?”

jason gently takes your arms from where they lie above his shoulders, and draws your hands to the left side of his chest.

and you swear you feel something in you malfunction.

thump. thump. thump.

you feel the beat of jason’s heart under your fingertips. his pulse is high, and his heart is drumming against his ribcage. so perfect, so like you, so alive.

“it’s okay, angel. i’m nervous, too.”

you meet his eyes for what seems like the first time that night, and you melt.

his eyes, so bright and blue and beautiful in this light, look down at you with such a fondness you’re sure he’s convinced himself you’ve hung the stars. you don't find it in yourself to shrink away.

you don't know where this sudden surge of confidence comes from, but you find yourself on your tiptoes, your hand tracing the fine line where his cheek and neck met. you don't ignore the way he leans into your touch.

you bring him closer, hesitating, hands shaking, and the moment your noses touch, he closes the gap between the two of you.

the kiss was nothing like you ever imagined. it was sweet, intertwined with the taste of starburst and the giddiness that came with the fact that, “oh my gods, we kissed”.

your hands find solace in his golden locks as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. this time, your lips taste the months of longing, of agonizing pining, of stolen glances.

fucking finally, you think.

as the kiss ends and jason’s eyes flutter open, he breathes out your name, and you pull him in once more.

something short & rushed i whipped up before classes start :,) none of my classmates know i run this blog and get the urge to kiss jason grace every second of the day.

reblogs and comments are so appreciated ! let me know what you think about this through my askbox 🐰

© ANTHAEUM (2024). do not republish, edit, translate, or plagiarize my works.

[imxthexhandler]

( @blizzardmuses; @fallen-sons)

Task force Z is good, actually.

[sunnie-angel]

Give me a Jason Todd that never fully left the grave. Where he used to run hot, he now runs cold. Not just in a “my body temperature is perpetually a few degrees colder than human” way, but in a “I never fully feel warm” kind of way. The leather jacket isn’t just a fashion statement, it’s to keep the chill out of his bones on Gotham rooftops (it doesn’t work but it’s better than nothing). The gloves aren’t just a forensic countermeasure. They’re there to keep his fingers from going stiff from cold even on warm summer nights. Under his steel toed boots, his socks are made of thick wool so his toes stay warm enough to keep sensation in them.

Give me a Jason Todd that sometimes feels the phantom sensation of wet dirt on his skin. No matter how hard he scrubs the feeling won’t go away. Who can’t wear specific fabrics because they remind him of the silk lining of his coffin. Who sometimes wakes up in the middle of the night and has to turn a light on, the darkness a touch too close to the blackness of the coffin. Who has to sleep with some kind of blade, not because of his training, but because it could be used to lever open a coffin lid.

Give me a Jason Todd that can’t remember what it was like to be buried alive but knows exactly what it feels like. He’s left the grave but it’s never left him.

[sharksandjays]

Messing around with painting styles…

[reddamselette]

“Your hair is getting long. Gonna cut it?” Leo asked, tilting his head to the side as he crossed his ankles and leaned against the headboard, watching from the bed as Jason rinsed his mouth of toothpaste and shut the lights off.

Jason hummed, walking over to Leo before he crawled over him and collapsed onto the bed. He propped his head up against the palm of his hand, blue eyes roaming Leo’s face with a sweet smile. “I don’t think so. We’ll be matching.”

He gripped each side of the sink, his knuckles turning white as his head hung forward and he sniffed through sobs, choking and swallowing thickly each time he drew in a deep breath. Teardrops fell into the sink along with water from soaked hair. Jason’s hair was getting long and Leo wasn’t around to see it and match.

[enviedear]

I feel like in regards to having the last word, Jason could go at it different ways? It kind depends on what the argument was about. Like if it had something to do with safety(specifically yours) and if you were going to be in explicit potential harm, he obviously will feel as though he need to prove his point

🧸ྀི askbox

yeah, i agree! i do think he'd more often than not embrace that need (stubborn urge) to make his partner see, grasp, and completely understand where he's coming from and why it matters to him. especially if it in any way involves their life or security.

and i think you got nonnie! like, hit it, nail on the head, for how he'd react if the argument was over safety. the need to prove his point—but for those other ones: the ones about him coming home late and being gone before you wake up. the ones caused by schedules that don't seem to align anymore. the disagreements about who actually did laundry last. simple, yet important—the discordance and dissonance that befalls all relationships.

in those cases, i think that's where having the last word may hinder whatever it is he's trying to get across. when it has to do with safety, it's easier to hear him out. it's easier to account his raised voice or elevated tone to worry then. but when it's because of something else? it causes a disconnect. it reads more combative. i don't think jason is perfect (i do) and as much as i love his indomitable spirit—i also think it could be a point of contention in a relationship. something to work with and grow.

idk maybe i'm going too deep but the idea of jason simultaneously working on it in a relationship—that urge to prove his point/get the last word—while he's also easing into vigilantism as opposed to flat out mob bossing…it gets me.

[rexisan]

Hmm

You ever think about how Tim doesn't really feel guilty about the stuff he's done? Like some of it is really fucked up. But he doesn't feel guilty about it.

Do you ever wonder if he thinks there's something wrong with him? That the spot that's supposed to remind you about guilt and "keep you in check" is just a hole that is just empty. No nagging feelings just.. quiet acceptance.

You ever think about how Jason has too much guilt? How he holds onto things that aren't even his fault and seethes and falls into the feelings until they're eating him alive. And he has to let it out somehow or he'll end up doing something even worse, but still ends up with blood on his hands.

Jason staring at his hands and seeing blood.

Tim staring at his hands and feeling nothing.

Both of them reaching out to the other and saying.

"It's okay. I'm broken too."

Tim doesn't see blood on Jason's hands, he sees scars and warmth.

Jason doesn't see Tim as lacking something, he sees confidence in who he is.

[ghost-bxrd]

Imagining a point and click game focused on Gotham ambience and atmospheric music, having you navigate life as either a Gothamite or someone who recently moved there, with the option to get in contact with the bats, become one of the rogue’s goons, or even join Red Hood’s gang and work your way to the top 👁️

Each choice you make influences the story, and by then end of it you could be a rogue worse than the Joker, or the catalyst that brought the batfam back together 👀

[hazellvsq]

hazel drawing her friends

she doesn't draw leo's face bc she's drawn that same face before and its very weird for her but she'll draw faraway shots of him steering the ship like an 18th century sea captain

she drew festus too, asleep but still frightening

piper's self conscious about being drawn but hazel loves her and loves how she looks and spends a lot of time trying to capture what makes piper so magnetic

she herself is kind of self conscious about drawing reyna or annabeth but she draws them in each other's clothes - reyna in jorts, annabeth in a toga and cape - and they both think its funny as hell

hazel draws reyna's dogs too. they pose for her and everything.

obviously arion is her top model

she draws frank all the time and it makes him blush. she'll draw frank drinking juice and caption it "frank drinking juice"

she drew frank in a world war one uniform for childhood crush reasons but felt like something was missing so she drew him in a plane that was about to crash and ended up getting super invested in the plane detail so its a very dramatic drawing. frank was like "uuhhh why am i getting shot down?" and she was like "clearly you don't understand art???"

she draws nico and gives him better hair bc she's nice

she also gives him a cool vintage car in some pictures. or a vespa.

she won't do a self-portrait

she draws percy destroying the glacier, like if the son of neptune cover was drawn by a non-professional artist.

she had one drawing of jason based on the day that she met him at camp jupiter. it was not a good day for her bc she was newly resurrected and very scared. it is a very good technical drawing of jason, and he looks powerful and strong, but he has intense eyes with no expression behind them and there is a very unnerving feeling to the drawing itself.

to piper and leo it reminds them a little of when jason had amnesia, but this is a drawing of him before that, which is not quite accurate to how hazel perceived him or to how he really was. its probably hazel's best work but it makes her and everyone a little uncomfortable.

[quiidam]

I actually love the idea that despite Dick having eldest daughter syndrome, he actually had to learn how to be a good older brother. He had no interest in having siblings. He just comes home to visit Bruce and Alfred one day and there’s this random twelve year old in his old Robin suit. And the idea of Jason being nothing but an enthusiastic little ray of sunshine until Bruce tells him that Dick is the original Robin and then he’s instantly jealous. They’re at eachother’s throats as only siblings truly can be — Jason steals his things, Dick ignores him etc until something changes. Maybe it’s one morning where Dick takes Jason to school in the morning as a favor to Bruce or Jason’s first injury while out on patrol that something just clicks for Dick. Like “Oh. I have to take care of him” and then he teaches himself to fill in the gaps that Bruce can’t. He learns to be the friend he wishes he would have had when he first came to the Manor and teaches himself how to be that for all of his siblings but especially Jason.