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e-nonsense · 3 months ago

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Dahlia with String then Burlap plsss

What about him and the reader being lovers in highschool. After his death ,the reader went mad and stuck at the age of 15 when he was still alive. After he got back,he visits her everyday since he believed there is still a way to get his girl back 😭

COME HOME TO ME

pairing. jason todd x reader

warning. angst to fluff, character death + revival, age regression, reader in a psych ward

a/n. i really liked this prompt thank you

“hey baby,” jason whispered, his hand on the glass separating the two of you, oh how he wished he could break this down and take you home. but he knows that you wouldn’t react well to being taken.

you don’t reply, your eyes are staring forward. they’re so dull now, not like the girl he loved when he was younger, his girl.

you’re wearing one of the hoodies he left here for you. you may not recognise his face and voice but you’d never forget the way he smelt, you used to tease him for the pine smell but now it was all you had left of him.

“baby,” jason calls out again, a little louder this time. “come on, doll. look at me, it’s me. it’s jay.” jason wants to cry, he wants you back, he wants you home, his voice is pleading, there’s a lump in his throat when you finally look at him.

you shake your head at him, “you’re not my jay.”

jason feels like he’s dying again, it feels the same. he feels like he’s dying inside, the breath leaving his lungs, eyes closing and he can hear that bomb again. the maniacal laughter of the bastard that killed him, the sound of his skull cracking under the force of the crowbar.

because he’s not really your jay, is he? no, he knows he isn’t. that boy died a long time ago, but jason can be jay, because you need jay, not jason.

“yes i am, baby.” it’s me, doll.

when did baby turn to doll, he wonders. another sign that he’s changed.

“look at me, really look at me.”

and you do you look into his green eyes— green? that can’t be right, jay’s eyes were an icy blue you adored dozing off to. but there is something familiar in the way this man looks at you, like you could massacre cities and he’d still love you.

but he can’t be jay, your jay died.

you shake your head again, turning away from him to curl up on the bed — jason has to remember to say thanks to bruce for getting you somewhere that takes care of you — to hide from him.

“baby don’t go,” he whispers.

this was routine by now, everyday for the last three months he came here. to sit by the glass that separates you from him. and everyday you do the same thing, refuse to believe him.

“baby, don’t you remember me? remember that day we snuck into the theatre, in the roof and took out that part of the ceiling so we could watch? and you said—”

“—we’re like ninjas.”

a smile crosses his lips, and he laughs. your heart flutters and you peek a look at him, only to find his staring right back at you. “hi baby.”

“jay,” you mumble, he nods.

“that’s right, doll. it’s jay.”

“doll?” you ask.

he shrugs, “maybe it’s time for something new.”

“i like it,” you say.

it takes weeks before you’re discharged. the doctors don’t believe the sudden change in you, the hallucinations suddenly gone, you’re not seeing a teenage lover, you don’t believe you’re 15 anymore.

they run their test but nothing wrong comes back. jason takes you home at the end of it all.

it’s different, the way he walks, or talk, the way he stands. so different yet so familiar. he’s bigger, not the scrawny boy you knew, his size triples yours.

he laughs when you mention it to him.

he keeps his distance, trying to keep you comfortable but you want him closer. you want him to hold you, more than anything you want to curl up next to him, letting some corny horror movie you play in the background, you’d jump despite knowing the jump scares are coming, and he’d tease you, promise to keep the monsters away. before he screamed himself, and you laughed, fingers running through his hair.

his hair was different too, still black but he had that white streak in it. you told him you liked it, he gave up on trying to dye it.

he stays with you at night, holding your hand when you wake up from the nightmares of losing him.

it takes months before he holds you, causally like he used to. hands dragging along your hips when he walks past you. he coddles you months later despite your insistence that you can take care of yourself.

you don’t get over the years of your life you lost, but you both have that in common. your life started and ended together. now you get another chance to start again.

jason won’t leave you again. jay won’t let you hurt again.

#jason todd #[📮] asks #red hood x reader #enzo writes [📝]#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader fluff #jason todd angst #jason todd fluf #2k followers celebration

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gilverrwrites · 3 months ago

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Toy Maintenance

“Oh, you poor baby. Does it hurt?” The eerily modulated voice of The Arkham Knight jeers at you from above. You’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to, but the answer is yes. Your very bones ache to their core after hours of use. Your wrists are cut from their metal bindings, knees scuffed from the hard floor. Your jaw stings from having your lips locked around a ring gang for such a long time, and you were beginning to fear he was right; your tight little cunt would never be the same again. Everything hurt.

Even as he teasingly slaps his cock between your slit, what should only sting a little, burns. “I asked you a question.”

To emphasise his impatience, he smacks a gloved hand on your already beaten ass, laughing that infuriating fucking laugh when you cry out in pain.

“Uhhh.” Your sob is distorted by the O-shaped piece of metal lodged between your teeth. “Yuush e hopts.”

“Awh.” He continues to mock as he slowly pushes his length inside your used up walls. The pace is not a kindness, you know he wants to feel every inch of it splitting tender walls. As he presses deeper inside, the cum from his previous exploits leaks out of your gaping hole. The wet sound of it escaping and dripping to the floor is absolutely vulgar. Once he bottoms out, he leans over your arched back, ensuring his tip sits snug against your cervix and getting close to your face. “I don’t care.”

The worst part is that once he starts driving into your raw and worked up pussy, ruthlessly snapping his hips at an animalistic speed; the pain is worth it. Just for that modicum of bittersweet pleasure. Even his foul-mouthed compliments and derogatory insults make your eyes roll back, and so he cracks wise at you all the more.

“God you’re pathetic.” He spits in response to your quiet sobs. He likes this angle because he knows he’s hitting that inner sweet spot that makes you crazy with every thrust. “Look at you, fucking loving it. You don’t know even know who I am. Do you?”

You’re shaking your head, scuffing your own cheek on the concrete floor when the door suddenly swings open and slams closed, a tall figure carrying a thick folder entering in between. The Knight doesn’t let up his unrelenting attack on your cunt, not even as the solider stops beside your rutting bodies, depositing the file on The Knights desk.

Up close you recognise him, specifically the two-done armour, and his singular, jarring eye. Deathstroke.

“When you hired me, I came on as a mercenary, not an errand boy.” He states bitterly. You can’t get a good look at him from your spot on the floor, but he seems to be watching your captor. It occurs to you that most would be attempting to cover their modesty about now, but The Knight isn’t done with you, so you remain still, enjoying the euphoric drag of his cock.

“Ohh, sorry, old man. Am I running you ragged?” The Knight replies, voice raspy from exertion but still acrid. Even more sour than it is with you, which you earnestly hadn’t thought possible.

“Not likely.” The merc deadpans. If you had the energy, you might have jumped when his masked head swiftly tilts to meet your eye.

He considers you for a moment before lifting his boot and lightly placing it on your shoulder. You don’t fight, The Knight has long since fucked that out of you. But for the first time since you’d been brought here, you wonder how you must look. Bruised and broken, face planted in a puddle of your own drool. How small and worthless you must seem.

With his foot, Deathstroke shakes your form, only briefly, grunting when you don’t respond and turning back to The Arkham Knight.

“You should take better care of your toys.” He says, chiding him like a father would a child. The Knight doesn’t take too kindly to his tone.

“Fuck off old timer, don’t tell me how to run my shit.” You howl in a twisted mix of relief and anguish as The Knight pulls out of you to get in Deathstroke face. “I got her just how I want her.”

“Is that right?” The older man snickers, his one eye falling back to you, it takes you a moment to register that his proceeding question is directed at you. “Far be it from us to have an opinion, huh girl?”

If or how you should respond is redundant, before you can muster any sound The Knight jams his finger in Deathstroke’s chest. “Do I pay you to have opinions? No, I pay you to do a fucking job. N- “

He cuts himself off mid-sentence, also looking over at you before the two masked men turn to face each other in tandem.

“Oh, I get it. You’re sniffing around because you want a piece.” Deathstroke scoffs in reply but doesn’t deny the accusation. Resolutely unbothered by The Knight’s impeachment of personal space.

Like a carrot on a stick, The Arkham Knight reaches down to you, grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and hauling you upright so that Deathstroke can get a better look at your naked body, cuts and bruises and all.

“Well get me some goddamn results, an’ I might let you take a turn.” You’re not sure how you feel about that, but you doubt your position on the matter will be considered. “But until then get the fuck outta my face.”

You will achieve great things, even though small steps.

Kinktober Masterlist

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starlightshadowsworld · 1 year ago

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Bruce but when Jason comes back he's just completly overjoyed.

Because by some miracle his son is back.

Like yeah we have ideological differences but my son who was brutally taken from me.

Who's death haunts me, is alive.

Bruce does the DNA test finds it's a match and is just like, is he okay? Is he hurt?

Does he have somewhere to stay? Is it safe?

Finds Red Hood and Jason's expecting harsh words, anger, even pity.

And instead Batman, Batman this beacon of strength and unshakeableness.

... Is crying.

"It's you, isn't it....Jaylad please. Please tell me that's you under there."

Pleading.

Jason takes the helmet off and Bruce falls to his knees as the weight of it all hits him.

That's his boy.

He might look different now but that's his boy.

Bruce would recognise him anywhere.

He's talking, talking about how he's not mad he could never be mad at him.

That Jason doesn't have to explain, he doesn't have to come back if he doesn't want to.

That he doesn't need to explain.

That if he ever does Bruce is here, that he's here and he will always be here.

That the manor is still his home, nothing changes that.

Even kept your old stuff, all of your books are right where you left them.

He swears up and down that he tried to kill the Joker but he failed.

Thst he chased him to the ends of the earth because he took you from me.

And apologises, over and over that he failed Jason, and he's so so sorry and knows that doesn't fix things.

And he gets if Jason never wants to see him again.

And it's none of the gruff stoic Dark Knight, it's the choked up rambling of a dad.

Jason's dad.

And after what feels like hours but was only just a few shocked seconds, Jason drops his helmet and runs into Bruce's arms.

Bruce hugs him like if he let's go he will lose him again.

They have so much to talk about but none of that matters now.

Not when he's holding the missing part of his heart in his arms.

#bruce wayne #Batman #DC #jason todd #red hood #good dad bruce wayne

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morphean42 · 4 months ago

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Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show

The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.

Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.

So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.

In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.

Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.

Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.

Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.

Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.

Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.

This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.

To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?

Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.

Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.

My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.

I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.

#falsettos #falsettos analysis #jason falsettos #marvin falsettos #the marvin trilogy #whizzer falsettos #whizzer brown #mendel falsettos #mendel weisenbachfeld #trina falsettos #march of the falsettos

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gothamhappiness · 4 months ago

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Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Hi, Jason (Part V)

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Warnings: no proof reading, Jason's relationships with Bruce and Dick are discussed, mentions of Joker, violence, death

You met with Dick again in a bookstore. At first, you thought that it was quite a strange coincidence, until you saw him trying to talk with a very big boy who didn’t seem very interested in talking with him. Dick appeared upset ; the other boy was just shrugging and trying to focus on the books in front of him.

You hesitated to go to them; you didn’t want to intrude. You weren’t too sure to recognise the other boy, but his face somehow seemed familiar. What decided you was where they were standing: the classic literature aisle of the store. Which was what you were looking for when you entered the shop.

You thought you could just say hi and then leave them alone if your presence was annoying them. You carefully walked to them.

“Hey Dick” you greeted the boy who turned around and instantly smiled at you.

You weren’t too sure if it was a real smile yet, so you didn’t come closer to him, but his answer showed he was actually glad to see you.

“Hey, Y/N! What are you doing here?” he asked

“Buying books I guess.” you teased “I was looking for Mansfield Park or Emma, now I finished Pride and Prejudice” you said.

The big boy to whom Dick was trying to talk to, quickly turned around and looked you up and down. He watched you with curiosity sparkling in his green eyes. Dick took his chance before his brother could go back to the cover of the book he was holding.

“Y/N, this is Jason, my little brother. You seem to share the same taste in books” Dick introduced the two of them

“Hi, Jason” you smiled as you cautiously observed him, remembering who he was now you knew his name.

You remembered what you read about Bruce and his son “who came back from the dead” and all the headlines about “Bruce arguing with his adoptive son”. It had quite broken your heart at the time.

“You’re Bruce’s new girlfriend?” he asked you quite bluntly

“I hate titles and I hate to feel like a possession. But yes, I'm currently seeing Bruce.” you replied and Jason nodded “I’m surprised you heard about me.” you added.

“Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It's just that things are rocky with Bruce.” Jason said and you reassuringly smiled at him “And yeah, everyone is talking about you in the “family”. Dick and Tim said you were nice.” Jason explained his first coldness to you

“I understand; Bruce isn’t always easy and you don’t know me” you nodded

“Ah yeah?” Jason arched an eyebrow at you.

He had expected you to take Bruce’s defence, like everyone else.

“Let’s say that I like challenges.” you smiled “And I’m not Bruce’s lawyer” you joked

“You should thank god for that, or you would have a lot of work” Jason grinned and you could tell Dick was quite happy about the current interaction.

“Can I buy the two of you a drink or something? Or a meal” you asked. “There is this sweet little café right outside the bookstore” you offered

You actually wanted to know more of them. Jason was curious about you so he agreed. Dick wanted to come as well, but he quickly received a call from Büdhaven. He reluctantly left the two of you together. Dick would have enjoyed some time with his brother too, but maybe you would help. If you helped with Bruce, he was certain you could do pretty much anything. At the same time, he really hoped Jason wasn’t going to scare you away from the family as a way to avenge himself.

But you knew better; you had met Red Hood before and you liked him.

You settled in the café. You started to talk about literature at first. You were both passionate so it was a good conversation starter. You gave each other some recommendations and debated on characters you liked or disliked. Your point of views on characters were often based on your experiences, so it naturally led to a conversion about each other’s lives. And of course, you arrived at the subject of Bruce Wayne.

“I’ll tell him to apologise to you. He shouldn’t have acted that way even if I do agree with the no killing rule” you said “You’re both right in a way, but… Bruce should have talked to you, he should have let you know what was going on with the Joker and why he couldn’t kill him. Why you couldn't kill him either. He should have been there to appease your anger, not the opposite” you said

“You’ll quickly learn that he doesn’t talk much. Especially not about his feelings. If it gets too personal, he’ll push the subject away. If it can hurt him, he’ll run away. He's a bad dad for that. And he might be a bad partner to you as well” Jason told you

“I’m sorry about what happened to you. It must have been so difficult to wake up without your family. And in a body you didn’t know. You did good, despite the murders and everything. Actually, Red Hood has always been my favourite vigilante” you admitted without commenting on the last part of Jason’s words. You wanted to believe that Bruce would make an effort for you.

Jason chuckled as you mentioned his vigilante persona.

“It’s true you never wrote anything bad about me. I thought you were scared of me… Until I realised we actually met” he teased, his eyes litting up

“Oh you remember? Yes I used to live in your territory, and now I’m nearby. I stand by what I said that night: I know what you did for people like us, that’s why I thanked you. Bruce can’t understand what it is to be poor and lost and to have to do bad things to survive. But I’ll make sure he does better with you.” you said “Just promise me to speak with Dick. Your brother looks like he is very eager to have you back in his life. He seemed very sorry you weren’t speaking with him earlier” you added

“I will try to talk with him again then. Thank you for… Thank you. I think I really needed to have this conversation with somebody but no one wanted to have it and I couldn’t really go to a therapist. You’re easy to talk with” he whispered, a little bit awkward

“I know” you smiled “I’m glad if I’ve been able to help”

“Is it your good action of the day to go to Heaven?” Jason joked

“Absolutely” you giggled

A moment of comfortable silence engulfed the two of you. You both enjoyed your tea before you resumed talking:

“Hey you know what, this is my phone number. You can call or text me whenever you need it.” you offered

“Why?” Jason plunged his eyes onto yours.

He was definitely not used of adults being there for him, especially without a catch

“Well I’m afraid I’m a family woman and my own family sucks very much. And since Bruce wants me around, I’d prefer it if I can get along with his people. I’d like to take care of you all.” you admitted, feeling a little shy to say all of this out loud.

Jason was also very easy to talk to.

“I don’t think I’m one of his people. Not anymore at least.” Jason sadly smiled at you

“You can be one of mine then. Take it as a repayment for allowing me to go back home every night without having to worry about anyone slicing my throat off” you insisted

“All the pleasure’s mine” he chuckled before saving your number onto his phone “You know, everyone says Bruce is nicer since you’re around. I have to admit this is true. Maybe happiness can truly change a man”

“Even a bat?” you joked because Jason’s words were touching you a little more than you wanted to show it

“Even a bat” Jason nodded

A few days later, you received a message from Jason, clearly tasting the water with you.

J: Hey wanna go have some lunch together today or tomorrow?

You: Today sounds good :)

After this, you regularly had lunch together and Jason clearly started to see you as a motherly figure, and you saw him as a son. He crashed at your place more than once after patrol, so you could eat together. Bruce never commented on your relationship with Jason, but he heard you when you asked him to apologise.

Which he did.

Jason accepted it and tried his best with Dick and his other siblings. He was still feeling awkward around everyone, but he was slowly spending more time at the manor, even when Bruce was there.

When Bruce asked if you wanted to meet all of his children anytime soon, you agreed but you instantly sent a message to Jason to make sure he would be there as well. He eagerly agreed because he couldn’t wait for you to be officially a member of the Batfamily.

PART 6

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake

@randomnamedmira

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

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jaythes1mp · 4 months ago

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Just a quick question; does the batfamily like reader the same in their human form or just in the cat form?

Wonderful question, anon! I have mentioned it briefly in this ask before, but I’ll dive deeper into it for you.

All the boys harbour their own opinions regarding your two appearances.

To Dick, you remain his sweet and adorable little sibling, whether you're in your human form or your animal form. Your identity as his kitten stays constant, regardless of which body you inhabit.

For the eldest brother, your age, size, or form doesn't change his perception of you one bit. Regardless of the fact that you’re a grown ass adult, he'd still continue to baby talk and coo at you when you have a big sneeze or get food on your cheek. In his mind, you’re fundamentally a cat first and foremost, and your human qualities are secondary. He couldn’t care less about your human appearance, because he would always view you as his precious little kitten, his adorable and cherished younger sibling. Even when you're in human form, he’d still treat you as if you were a cat, completely disregarding your human aspect.

Bruce, however, has a vastly different opinion. In his eyes, you’re the perfect blend of both worlds. The feline body language and characteristics you exhibit are utterly endearing, no doubt, but your true essence rests in your human mind and soul, which is the fundamental part of you. He recognises the importance of both your animal and human forms, as they are both integral parts of who you really are. While your cat instincts may be captivating, it is your human mind that holds the most significance. He wouldn’t treat you like a mere pet, recognising the balance between your two forms. You were still his child, and that will always come first.

Ultimately, Bruce doesn't really care what body you take on, as long as you're spending time with him. When you're out in public, you're required to transform into your cat self, as to not cause any unnecessary suspicions or complications regarding your disappearance. But when you're both just chilling at home in the manor, he doesn't mind whether you're in one form or the other, as long as you're there with him. He won't push you to engage in conversations or force you to do anything you don't want to do, as long as you're just present by his side, he's content.

In stark contrast to the others, Jason has a strikingly distinct preference for your feline form, showing a notable lack of interest in you when you appear in human form. He tends to completely disregard your presence when you're in your human body, only offering you affection and attention exclusively when you're in your kitten body.

To Damian, your animal form holds a special place in his heart, a place he refuses to share with anyone else. It’s not that he dislikes your human form, far from it. But when he looks at you as an animal, all he can see is an innocent, untainted little creature that needs protecting. A creature that relies solely on him for safety and comfort. And that’s a feeling that he can’t help but relish in. Your cat form evokes a protective instinct in him that he rarely feels when you’re in your human form. But also, saying that, he does enjoy being able to talk to you, as you’re the only person that he trusts to never leave, to never feel disappointed. Because to you, he’s the only one on your side. He relishes in the fact that no matter which form your take on that you rely on him. That you need him.

Slightly out of sync with the others, Tim shows a marginal preference for your human form. He’s the only one who tends to pay more attention to you when you’re in your human body, but the margin is admittedly slim.

Tim enjoys being able to read you, relishing in his ability to decipher your emotions and engage in conversation with you when he needs a diversion from all the work. On that note, it's primarily about the control. He finds pleasure in being able to make you shift from one form to the other, keeping you drugged and pliant in his lap as a cat or asleep in human form on the couch next to him while he works.

Link to Chapter One, Link to Masterlist.

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charliedawn · 1 year ago

Text

What if the slashers begged you to stay ?

You were on your way to the airport to leave the country when you heard a commotion behind you. You turned around and your eyes widened when you saw your patients forcing a way through the crowd to find you. Your eyes watered when their eyes found you and they all lunged at you—surrounding you.

The Silent Trio:

Michael was the first to get to you. He had a written sign in his hands with only one word written on it in bold letters:

Stay.

You looked at the sign and tried to find the words to answer him.

"Michael…I can’t." You tried to explain.

However, Michael wasn’t in the understanding mood and shoved the sign against your chest as he groaned.

STAY.

It wasn’t a request and your eyes watered. You could see the desperation in his eyes. Michael was not the type to let his emotions show, but here they were. Clear as day. He was begging you to stay. And then, Brahms arrived and wrapped his arms around you as he picked you up. He squeezed you so hard that you felt dizzy as he screamed.

"Y/N ! STAY ! PLEASE !" He started crying against your chest. "DON’T LEAVE US ! DON’T LEAVE ME ! I’LL BE…I’LL BE A GOOD BOY ! THE BEST BOY ! I’LL HELP YOU MORE WITH CHORES AND I…I’LL CLEAN UP AFTER EVERYONE ! I’LL BE SO GOOD ! I PROMISE !"

He was so desperate, it brought tears to your eyes as you hugged him back. He buried his face in your chest and even his mask fell to the ground as he sunk to the floor—begging. He pulled you so close and so tightly that you almost couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, you felt another pair of arms surround the both of you and looked back to see that Jason had joined the hug. You recognised those arms and sighed as tears finally ran down your cheeks. The three of them had found you…Michael. Brahms. And Jason.

"Don’t. Leave. Us." Jason whispered and your heart tightened as you knew that he rarely spoke—but he chose to in order to convince you to stay.

"I have to, Jason." You said and their bear hug almost killed you as the three of them answered in sync.

"Stay."

You closed your eyes and sighed.

At this point, you knew you’d never catch that plane…

The Sinclair Brothers:

Bo was far from stupid and he knew that if he let you go with your suitcase…He would never see you again. He was not one to beg. He didn’t like showing weakness. But, this was a very important moment and he knew if he screwed up, you’d take that plane and never come back. So, he tried. He begged. He begged earnestly as he knew you were a sucker for lost causes…

"Please. Stay. I need you, darlin’. If you want me to get on my knees and beg ? I will." He dropped to his knees and grabbed your thighs tightly. He wanted to pin you down and refused to let go and he buried his face in your stomach.

"Bo. I need to go, darling. Come on." You tried to pry him off—but he wouldn’t let go. And then, things only got worse when Vincent arrived and suddenly hugged you from behind. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and started sobbing. Vincent was far more sensitive than Bo and thought that they had done something to make you want to leave.

They didn’t care about the people around them.

They just knew that they needed to bring you back home.

When you finally came back home with them, you could see the surprise painted all over Lester’s face as he saw you come back. He opened the door and you stood up before addressing him an apologetic look.

"…I am sorry, Lessy. I couldn’t go."

Lester’s shoulders slumped and he smiled sadly. He had helped you escape, but it was all for nothing because you were already a goner.

He hugged you.

"…I am glad you didn’t."

The Bastards:

Freddy refused to let go. He tackled you to the ground and you thought he would kill you, but you didn’t expect it when he just held you tightly against him.

"No !" He grabbed your arm and pulled you back into his arms as you attempted to leave. "Please, sweetheart. Don’t leave. Stay. Stay with me. I am an asshole. A bastard. But, fuck. You succeeded in making a man outta me."

He hugged you closer and tears strained his scarred cheeks. He kissed your forehead and you bit back a wince at the feeling of his dry and chapped lips. But, it was the first affectionate kiss that Freddy had ever given to anyone since he was reborn.

He was begging you to stay. And Freddy never begged before.

And then, you saw Pennywise appear behind him with a mischievous grin.

"You staying anyway, pal. I kinda messed up the planes. You ain’t leaving."

Your eyes widened in shock.

"Which one ?"

His smirk grew.

"…All of them."

Your eyes widened as you realised he had set fire to all the planes outside…

Norman Bates:

"Darling. I know I’ve made mistakes. A lot of them. But, I know that letting you into my life wasn’t one. So, please. Stay." Norman said and grabbed your hand before you could leave. He was desperate. He knew he fucked up and wanted you to stay, even though he was perfectly aware of his own sins.

Norman is a wordsmith. He would tell you all the sweetest things just to make you stay.

"You make me better." A lie. A sweet lie just for you. A lie you believed for so long…until you found the skeletons in the closet. Literally. Half a dozen body bags all piled up. You looked at him and sighed before pulling away.

"…I am not making you better. I am making you worse."

You both knew the truth and Norman opened his mouth to deny, but other words came out.

"…Maybe not. But, you give me hope." He confessed and then took your hand before bringing it to his cheek and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

"Please…Stay."

And you knew there and then that you were doomed. Because even though you knew he was a monster, you also knew he had you wrapped around his little finger…You would do anything for him. And even though you knew you had to leave, your eyes stared right into his and you couldn’t move.

You both knew you were too attached to leave, and that was you greatest enemy…yourself.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #norman bates x reader

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moneypriestess · 1 year ago

Text

OK, se we all know ghostspeak, right? It's a language for ghosts that comes from the ghost zone, and basically only halfas and ghosts can speak it on earth, but what if it's a forgotten language on earth?

----

It existed thousands of years ago, but slowly died off until no one remembered it.....until Tim went snooping in the house of mystery and came across an ancient book written in a language he didn't recognise.

After asking cough cough blackmailing cough John for the book Tim took it home and somehow forgotten about it, for about a week.

Now, during the week the book had been sitting in his room, Tim had gotten into an argument with Bruce, then with Alfred over his sleep, or lack thereof, and forced into decaf coffee for the rest of the month. So he was pretty frustrated, annoyed, and looking for revenge.

When Tim saw the book sitting on his desk innocently, he had a brilliant idea, a magnificent wonderful show stopping idea that would get his sweet sweet revenge.

Now, remember that Tim's brain is running on decaf coffee, no sleep, and no dopamine, it would not be too far fetched for him to think that because Alfred is obviously immortal he would know this ancient language, so Tim could learn this ancient language and insult his cooking in his (maybe) mother tongue! Obviously, it's a low blow, but revenge changes a person.

Tim spent the next month studying that book, staying locked in his room like the 'good grounded boy' he was. Obviously, Bruce knew something was up, but it didn't seem like Tim was up to a mastermindfull plan that might destroy or recreate gothams crime ring, so he let mumbling studying boy be.

Tim finally shut the book with a released sigh and sat up, cracking his back of the kinks and smirking at the victory he could already practically taste on his tongue. Today was the day. He was fairly confident that he had successfully broken through the language barrier and fluently learnt the once forgotten language.

Tim swaggered (yes, I said that, don't kill me) into the dining room and took a seat next to danny, his newest kindest and most naive brother, before looking towards everyone gathered today. It was the anniversary of Danny's first adoption, and everyone was here to celebrate it, even Jason of all people, though he could understand why. Since the two met, they had a seemingly special bond, and everyone knew Jason was Danny's favroute. No matter how hard dick tried to be.

Waiting until the food had come out and danny had successfully poked and prodded his plate to his liking, a weird ritual he did "to make sure it won't attack him" danny had said the first time anyone asked, everyone began eating. Tim hid a tiny smirk behind his bowed head as he finally said the words he had been waiting for all month.

"Looks like you're losing your touch, Alfred"

A second passed, no one says anything and Tim has just a smidgen of regret, did he say it right? Did he mispronounce something and make a fool of himself?

"Sniffle"

Tim's head shoots up to Alfred's, he only wanted to shock him and insult him a little bit! He didn't want him to start crying.

Yet Alfred's eyes were dry, and instead of looking at Tim, heck, no one was looking at Tim. They were all looking to the side of Tim, where danny sa-

Oh no, danny.

Tim swivelled his head and let his jaw open in shock as he sees danny full on breaking down, tears and snot covering his face that he desperately tries to wipe away as Jason kneeled beside him and tried to comfort him, the same static noises that Tim had made just before coming from his mouth.

Yet these were different, more confident in the tone and more soft and comforting than whatever Tim had said.

"Not-kill-dare-day-dann-calm-"

Tim could barely recognise the words coming from Jason's mouth and paled as he realised what that meant. It meant that he should have spent longer learning from the book, it meant he shouldn't have tried this in front of the entire family, it meant he had said something completely different than what he meant to say, the only question now is.

'What the fuck did I say?'

#crossover #dc x dp #crack #batfam #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc

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flamingpudding · 2 years ago

Text

Part 6 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

>>Masterpost

<<1 Previous Next

A dead but now revived Son

When Bruce returned home he did not know what he should have expected. Alfred had contacted him a day earlier. Insisting that he needed to finish up the case with the Justice League as soon as possible to return and giving him a rather strange warning.

Apparently there was a new family member Damian had failed to tell them about. The butler did not leave a lot or room for discussion about who or what Damian failed to tell them so Bruce did all he could and made it back before lunch.

Bruce had assumed that his youngest had once again smuggled in an animal that was there to stay but that did not explain the butler's insistence of him coming home as soon as possible. So color him surprised when he stood in the doorframe of the sitting room that became the main hang out room for the family and two of his children were currently holding a screaming match about whether or not the older of the two was part of a cult. Tim was even threatening Jason with some sort of book he had gotten via express mail looking ready to hit his second oldest across the face with it.

"Just admit that you are or were a part of a ghost cult!"

"The fuck you talking about replacement?! I have never been in a ghost cult!"

"Bullshit! The sigels in this book say otherwise!"

"What fucking sigels you asshole!"

"The ones in this book!"

"Wave that any close to my face and I will punch you!"

Looking toward the couch he found his oldest sitting next to his youngest holding out sweets and treats to a child Damian was keeping in his lap in a rather protective hold. The child, a little boy that didn't look older than seven or eight, was wearing an oversized hoodie he recognised as one of Damians. The boy did not appear really happy with his situation as the child kept hissing at his oldest and snapping his teeth. Damian scowled at Dick clearly also not happy with what he assumed were his elder son's attempts at getting the child to not hiss at him.

"Richard, I am warning you."

"Come on little teethling! How about this chocolate? Or do you like baked goods better?"

"Richard."

"Just one pat without biting Dami, please! He is not hissing as much as he did earlier! Should I juggle the cakes?"

"Danyal, how about we leave these idiots?" The child didn't even look up at his youngest but kept hissing at Dick who kept offering small cakes to the child.

He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of his children, just as Damian was about to get up and leave with the boy. It was interesting seeing them blink at him this owlishly whenever he joined them when they least expected his appearance. "Someone wants to explain to me why Damian has a child with him?"

"This child is Danyal." Damian stated, looking down at the boy whose eyes were now focused on him. They were a glowing sky blue and Bruce couldn't help but think that his son might have picked up a little Meta child he wanted to take care of.

He hm-ed stepping into the room and closer to his children. Noting how the child in his son's arms tensed, pupils blown wide. The kid was on high alert. Now that he also took a closer look at the small boy he noticed that he had similarities to Damian, was that the reason the kid seemed to have latched onto his youngest?

"A Meta?" He questioned as he slowly moved towards the clearly tense child. Considering all his sons being around, the child might be a rescue and with the way the little one watched his every move as the newcomer, possibly abused too. He would need the report from his sons to get a better understanding of the boy's circumstances.

"Not exactly…" Tim started and he looked over at his third eldest. He was hesitating with his explanation, why? Was there something else amiss with the child?

"B maybe you should wait and sit down over there. This will be a lot to take in." Dick added his eyes worriedly going to the child that had become strangely quiet and back to him. Bruce only hm-ed again, Dick was good with children but from what he had seen this child wasn't trusting his eldest.

Maybe he should give it a try? So he crouched before Damian and the boy putting on the friendliest face he could muster. If this child was an abused meta case then the boy was surely scared, he could see it clearly now in the boy's eyes. The likelihood that he had probably latched onto his youngest because of their similarities for safety was now even more apparent.

"Hel-" He couldn't even finish his greeting before the child's eyes took on a glowing green color.

"Danyal!"

Suddenly the boy slipped out of Damian's hold and in what looked close to flying flipped over the couch onto his second oldest shoulders, using them as springboard to get onto one of the high shelves of the sitting room. Drawing back into the ceiling corner and making himself as small as possible. The entire time the child's glowing green eyes were on Bruce and his stomach sank at the familiarity of that color. His eyes, only for a split second, went over to Jason who glared at him, placing himself between Bruce and the shelve the boy jumped on.

"Father! What did you do?"

"I was only attempting to greet that child on eye-level so as not to further scare him."

"Yea sure." His second oldest scoffed. "You didn't want to judge if the kid was a dangerous unknown?"

"Jason."

"No Dick. The kid is fine with us, though still hissing and bitey but that was not a normal reaction. If I had to guess, the kid's Pit must have reacted to something with Bruce. The Biter stopped hissing the moment he noticed him. Look at the kids' eyes and tell me that's not true."

His eldest did look conflicted as his eyes went over to the kid on the high shelf silently staring down at them before looking back at him still crouching by the couch where he really had only attempted to greet the small child that had been in Damian's arms.

Standing up Bruce looked straight at his second oldest while still keeping the boy in his field of vision. "The child's Pit?"

Dick sighed covering his eyes with his right hand for a moment before looking back up at him again with determination. "That's why I wanted you to sit down and listen to us first. Danny is showing symptoms of being influenced by Lazarus Water. In addition Tim found that he not only has it in his system and blood but also influencing his DNA."

Bruce couldn't help his as his eyes narrowed at what his eldest son was saying. "The child, Danny you said, is like Jason?"

"Possible worse." Tim replied this time. "The way the Lazarus water influenced his DNA had nearly made it impossible to test it when we tried to see if Danny was a clone. I had to split and isolate it from his DNA to get clear results."

"A clone?"

Tim arched his eyebrow at Bruce judgingly. "You must have noticed how much he looks like Damian. We first thought the child was a Clone but turns out that's not the case. He-"

"Congratulations you have another supposedly dead son Talia revived via Lazarus Pit." Jason cut rudely not once looking away from Bruce as he waited for the man's reaction.

"JASON!"

"Just rip the bandaid off. Better to get his negative reaction out of the way now than later."

"That's not what I mean and you know it!"

"What…?" He barely said it loud enough for his children to hear. To say Bruce's brain short circuit was an understatement as the words supposedly dead son registered.

Dick sighted and Bruce felt his eldest son placing his hand on his shoulder but all Bruce could do was turn to look at where the child was still high up on the shelf staring at him and looking like he wanted to merge into the shadows of the ceiling corner while Damian tried to coax the child down again.

"Damian told us that Danny is his twin that had died eight years ago. We don't know yet why he is here nor how but Dami, who was the most convinced that Danny was a clone at first, is now insisting that this child is his revived brother. And we believe him, everything we found so far points to that conclusion too."

Bruce barely heard Dicks explanation over his own heart beat as he watched Damian and Danny. All he could think about was that he had failed another child. The child who was supposed to be Damians age had died too young and only to get revived eight years later? Why hadn't Damian told him anything about his brother? Why did the revived child need to appear for him to learn about his existence?

All but one of his sons' attention turned to the child on the shelf as now three of them tried to get the chil- no. Danny, Damian's twin who had died at the age of eight and had now been revived and had been kept a secret from him by his own son too, down from there.

"Danyal come down please. Father does not mean any harm."

"Great Bruce scared the little biter so much that he acts like a scared cat again."

"Just be happy he didn't instantly go to bite Bruce."

"I would have actually liked to see that happening."

"Would you imbecile shut up. Danyal, would a snack from Alfred help calm you down?"

"If Dickie didn't get him to stop hissing with treats why would he come down from up there for one?"

"Hey Jason, hold your arm up please?"

"The fuck you want replacement?"

"We are not using Todd as bait."

"Worth a shot."

"Fuck off, how about you hold your arm up."

"You're taller than me and have more reach."

"Oh now you're fine admitting you're short?"

"Shut up. Neither of you will be used as bait. Who knows what diseases either of you carry."

""HEY""

Turning around and wordlessly leaving the room Bruce decided he needed to find a way to contact Talia. He needed answers and that as soon as possible. He could not face Danny like this and his children seemed to have the situation handled for now.

As the man stormed out of the room, he did not notice the worried or judging side eyes of his children. Nor the green eyes that had never once stopped watching him as they turned blue appearing more confused than when they had been green. Jason on the other hand had noticed the change and couldn't help but wonder why the little biters Pit reacted this strongly towards Bruce when his own had been surprisingly quiet for the last couple of hours.

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

Meanwhile Illinois in a small hidden town…

"What do you mean template isn't here anymore?!"

"He disappeared. They say he died but I can't believe it. I don't believe it."

"You better! If he died the entire ghost zone would have rioted!"

"What?"

"Hello? Ghost King?"

"Right… But how do we find him?"

"Maybe we can track his ecto-signature?"

"We have to give it a shot. We need to find him before the GIW do."

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r4ins · 1 year ago

Note

would you pls do Jason Todd x male reader? 😫Thank you!! 😆

Jason Todd x Top Male Reader

bottom jason todd

cw. lots of smut

Jason never hated Y/N more than when the man was inside him. Sure, Y/N was an asshole at the best of times, and Jason couldn’t wait until the moment he tore him down and his whole stupid empire with him, but when Y/N had him bent over and panting, a side of the older man came out that Jason absolutely despised. Unfortunately, his body had a different reaction to this Y/N.

“That’s it sweetheart, tighten up this hole for me like a good little bitch” Y/N crooned sickly sweet behind him.

“Nngh, fuck off” Jason responded, grinding his burning face into the cool wood of Y/N’s desk. He hated that Y/N could get him this worked up from just a few fingers.

“The big, scary Red Hood” Y/Nchuckled “well look at you now, whore.”

Jason blinked overwhelmed tears out of his eyes, yeah, the asshole had a point. He was sure he cut a pretty pathetic figure, bent at the waist over Y/N’s large mahogany desk, hands pinned behind him by his own zip-ties, jerking up onto his toes at every thrust of Y/N’s gloved hand into his slick hole, and whining softly the whole time. He couldn’t see Y/N, but he could imagine the smugness in his eyes as he sat in his huge office chair behind Jason, sipping a glass of whiskey in one hand whilst the other relentlessly abused his ass.

Jason wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he bratted his way right past Y/N’s warning glare and found himself manhandled onto the ground and bound up. Y/N had moved him to the desk only after choking him out against the floor and growling into his ear about being put in his place and getting what was coming to him. Since then, satisfied by Jason’s submission as his lax body was shoved over the desk, he had been lazily grinding his black leather gloved fingers into the boy’s prostate.

“Give it up, boy, it’s your own time you’re wasting” It was the amused patronising tone that got to him the most, made him want to fight tooth and nail and to bear his neck in surrender at the same time “C’mon Jay, let out that needy little slut we both know you are deep down.”

“Shut -uhn- up, you-” Jason grunted out. He was so tense he could feel the zip ties cutting into his wrists, could feel every pant of hot air into the space between his face and the wood, could feel each miniscule movement of Y/N’s hand.

Y/N hummed in amusement, pulling his hand out and wiping it on Jason’s asscheek like the boy was nothing more than a dirty rag. Jason let out a sob at the treatment, only to choke on air as he felt both of Y/N’s hands grab his cheeks and pull them apart. It was something about the exposure, or the hot stab of the objectification that finally made him break down.

“Daddy, daddy, pl-please” he whined. He could barely recognise his own voice.

“Ah, there we are, sweetheart. There’s my good boy” Y/N pulled away for a second, chucked softly at Jason’s heartbroken sob at the sudden loss of sensation.

Jason was limp as Y/N pulled him up by his bound hands and turned him until he was standing on shaking legs, still caught up in his own pants, and facing the older man.

Y/N shushed him softly, reaching out place his hands on the boy’s trembling hips and staring into his cloudy eyes. Without dropping the eye contact, Y/N lifted one foot and stepped down on the pants bunched around his legs until they slid down his legs to the floor. Bolstered by the hands on his hips, Jason stepped out of the pants and followed the urging of those gloved palms until he was settled in his lap, hands still tied behind him, wet eyes wide and desperate.

“Hey there, pretty boy” Y/N lifted a hand and took Jason’s chin between his fingers, moving his face this way and that to admire the pink flush.

Jason, unable to turn his face away, scrunched his eyes closed as he blushed fiercely, for a moment hating how much Y/N’s words turned him to putty. “Daddy, please, daddy”

“Shh now precious, don’t you worry your cute little head at all, hmm?” Y/N shook Jason’s face like a puppy until the boy opened his eyes to look up at him blearily, “Daddy’s gonna take care of you baby.”

Jason hated him, he hated him so much. He hated him even more for the way that his words made the tears collecting in his lashes fall down over his cheeks towards his trembling lips. The humiliation made his stomach roll, but also made his still hard dick throb painfully.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, baby-slut?” Y/N asked, still in that sickly sweet voice that Jason hated so much.

No, no. “Y-yes daddy, please daddy. Baby wants it, please.”

“Good boy” Jason couldn’t help the shudder that ran through his body at the praise, “Get Daddy out, baby.”

Jason stared at him in confusion for a second, flexing his hands against their bonds. When Y/N didn’t move, just kept staring at him expectantly, Jason tentatively lifted himself on shaky thighs high enough so that he could reach down below himself to try to get his hands on Y/N’s fly. The movement twisted his body, shoving his chest up towards Y/N’s face wantonly, and Jason despaired as he felt the flush spread down his neck almost to his nipples, standing in needy peaks directly in front of Y/N smug face.

Y/N leaned forward, ghosting breath over one of Jason’s ample pecs, and waited until the boy had the zipper of his pants halfway down before sealing his mouth over one nipple and biting down.

The noise that tore its way out of Jason was halfway between a shout and a sob, and he felt his fingers lose their grip on Y/N pants. Y/N didn’t let up, sucking a deep bruise around the nipple, and Jason forced his clumsy fingers to find their grip again.

Y/N only released his chest when I felt cool air on his cock, freed from his pants and standing to attention between Jason’s taught, trembling thighs.

Even though he couldn’t see Y/N cock, Jason found his mouth flooding with saliva from just the feel of it and the knowledge that he was soon going to be filled. He experienced a brief second of clarity from just the horror that Y/N had so effectively trained his body to respond to him.

The clarity was chased away, however, when Y/N got a hard, bruising grip on his hips and used it to manhandle Jason’s body down onto his dick. Jason threw his head back and wailed as he felt the intrusion carve its way into his body. Despite the torturous amount of prep, Y/N still and always did feel huge when he was buried inside him like this.

“Fuck yes, that’s good” Y/N groaned, holding Jason’s body down on him for an interminable moment, “you were made for this, baby, body just made to take cock.”

Jason wanted to rip the guy’s head off for saying that, but instead he made a soft, keening noise of need and shifted in Y/N’s lap.

“Fine then, you needy whore, take what you want” Y/N growled, letting go of Jason’s hips and slapping harshly at his ass when he didn’t start moving quick enough.

Shocked by the sudden crack, and the pain that only stoked the fire that was his arousal, Jason quickly lifted himself up using just his legs until barely the tip of Y/N’s cock was still buried inside him. After taking a second to feel the rush of anticipation, he slammed himself back down, crying out at the feeling.

He was so caught up in the feeling of riding Y/N, filling that ache inside himself that only ever seemed to be assuaged by Y/N’s cock and filthy words, that he didn’t notice Y/N reaching over until his hand was clamping over Jason’s cock. He wailed at the stimulation, rutting into the tight grip desperately whilst still bouncing on Y/N’s lap as much as he could.

Y/N didn’t exactly jack him off, more held his hand tight and still whilst Jason adjusted his movement to push into Y/N’s hand when he lifted up off his dick. When he took a second from the bright, hot, overwhelming arousal to look down at the other man mid-bounce, he felt a lance of humiliated heat through his body at the cold, unaffected way that Y/N was watching him shamelessly writhe on his lap.

That one second of feeling so needy and pathetic, combined with the harsh grip on his dick and the relentless assault on his prostate, was all he needed to finally fall over the edge. He screamed, head thrown back, as he painted his stomach and Y/N’s lap with cum. He arched, tense with the aftershocks for a second before falling, completely limp, over Y/N.

He felt more than heard the rumbled growl of satisfaction that Y/N let out as Jason came. Before he had an opportunity to recover, he was being hefted up with Y/N’s dick still inside him and deposited sprawling over Y/N’s desk.

“My turn” Y/N lifted Jason’s legs by the calves until the boy was basically bent in half and started jackhammering into his body, still shaking with the aftershocks of the boy’s orgasm.

Jason wept from the overstimulation; high, breathless noises punched out of him with every thrust. IF he had any agency over his own limbs he was be desperately trying to get away from the aggressive assault on his overworked prostate and sore hole. But as it was, he lay there in Y/N’s grip, completely unable to do anything but cry and whine and shake.

“Da-daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy” he didn’t know when he had started talking, didn’t know why he could only say that one thing. His mind was growing cloudier as his face got wetter, and he could hear his own voice become more and more incomprehensible as Y/N continued to ruthlessly fuck his lax body.

“da- duh- da- .. unhh” the whole world narrowed down to just Y/N’s hands and cock and cruel voice.

“What’s that babydoll? I don’t think you’re making any sense.” He felt fingers, still wrapped in those leather gloves, force their way between his lips and deep into his mouth, and all he could do was gurgle and drool around them.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Y/N asked in a voice like one you would use to talk to a child or a particularly stupid pet, “That whore mouth should always be filled up, huh baby? It’s not like there’s any better use for it.”

Jason felt a trail of saliva drip down the side of his face as his eyes rolled back. At this point his cock had managed to fill back out and throbbed, red and heavy against his already cum-stained abs. Y/N showed no sign of slowing down, the slapping of his hips into Jason’s ass surely turning his cheeks as red as his face.

“Love you like this,” Y/N continued, seemingly unbothered by the way Jason was choking and gurgling around his fingers, “fucked dumb, nothing left in that pretty little head of yours. I should keep you like this all the time, baby. I don’t know what little whores need brains for anyway. Just keep you tied up and stuffed full, filthy with my cum, so you know your fucking place-”

Without warning, Y/N shoved his fingers as deep into Jason’s mouth as he could as he pressed his cock balls deep into his ass and spilled inside him. He stayed there for a second, ignoring the way Jason writhed underneath him, trying to rut his still hard cock up against anything he could reach.

Groaning, Y/N pulled out slowly. He stared at Jason’s wrecked hole, mindless to the way the boy was desperately pleading through the fingers in his mouth. When he saw his own come start to drip out of Jason’s twitching hole he removed his fingers from his mouth to move both hands down to his ass and spread his hole as wide open as he could.

Jason, lost in a haze of pleasure and humiliation and the desperate need to come, could only whine and stare pleadingly at the man above him, feeling stupid and small and pathetic. Y/N looked up for a second, meeting Jason’s teary gaze with cruel eyes before he smirked and purposefully, and slowly enough that Jason could tell what was coming, leaned down and spat directly into Jason’s already ruined hole.

Jason’s second orgasm racked through his body almost painfully. This time he couldn’t even scream, only writhe on the desk in terrible ecstasy.

When he came back to, Y/N was sitting back in his chair, lighting a thick cigar and taking a drag as he looked with satisfaction at the mess he had made of the vigilante. Jason barely needed the pull on his leg to slide boneless to the ground and lean his upper body against Y/N’s leg. He was so exhausted he only blinked sluggishly as Y/N pushed the cigar against his lips and forced him to take a slow drag, all while carding his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, twirling the white streak around his fingers.

He kept his hand in his hair as he turned his attention to some papers on the desk and began to read through them, largely ignoring the filthy and half naked boy at his feet.

As Jason started to drift off, now on Y/N’s lap, he took a moment to wonder if it was really Y/N he hated or just himself for letting Y/N keep doing this to him. The thought was gone almost as soon as it arrived, lost to a haze of exhausted satisfaction.

#dc universe #gay #top male reader #x male reader #dc comics #bottom jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #x male top reader #top reader #dcu #dceu

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aangelinakii · 1 month ago

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STRATEGY.

— hey boy, imma get ya.

summary : you've been plotting on dick grayson ever since your friend jason introduced the two of you when he was round jason's at the same time as you. you're gonna get that boy, one way or another.

note : don't ask about my obsession with new years eve parties ??? i've never been to any so don't question it too much, it's just a very very perfect setting

and also another note : also looked up roy harper's birthfay AFTER i wrote rhis and it's in november apparently whixh i didn't realise when dick was wearing a t-shirt soooo sorry about continuity stuffs

the first time you met dick grayson he almost slammed a door in your face.

much to his dismay, jason had given up his apartment to celebrate roy's birthday — something about a gas leak or other at his own place, and not wanting to harm his daughter, let alone his friends — and you'd offered some help setting up.

although it appeared someone else had done so, too.

someone you didn't know, didn't recognise — but took the same turns along each street from the moment you noticed him.

part of you wondered whether he was reverse-following you, trying to cut you off at some point by turning around and slitting your throat...

sounds quite normal for gotham, actually.

but when he turned up into jason's dingy apartment complex, and led you up the stairs to jason's floor, you realised it wasn't just a coincidence; you really were going to the same place.

the dark-haired man stopped outside jason's door and rapped his knuckle against it before pushing it open. "the help is here!" he bellowed inside, which was followed by a tumble of footsteps.

this could have been your moment to squeeze in through the crack in the door behind him, but something awkward tugged at your stomach and you couldn't seem to announce yourself the normal way.

jason's expression, however, glowed with recognition at the moment his friend was about to shut the door behind him.

"woah, woah!" he gasped, struggling past his friend to catch the door mid-slam. "don't be a bad guest, dick."

for the first time, he turns around.

wavy black hair, getting lengthy enough to frame his forehead but still short; strikingly peaceful blue eyes, like pools of mediterranean, which stared apologetically into yours as jason peeled the door back open to allow you in; his bicep bulged from beneath its white short-sleeve as he held a hand out to shake yours. and did jason call him... dick?

unclear whether he was being derogratory or merely speaking to him, your fingers skimmed against his palm to take his hand.

well... what a name. what a face.

for about an hour after that, you and dick — who you soon found out was technically jason's brother, though you didn't ask how you can technically be brothers — helped jason hang up streamers and blow up balloons to celebrate roy's birthday.

the party went smoothly, with a few drinks and at least one person keeping an eye on lian at all times, but, even after, you knew dick grayson would be yours.

not sure how, not sure when — but he would be.

that brings us here, to new year's eve a good entire year later, a drink in your hand, although just a couple before this in your system. your apartment's the victim this time, and roy had to leave early to spend the rest of his new year's with lian.

you're lingering in the kitchen area, eyeing the sticky residue of beer that had been spilt on your counter at some point in the night, though you're trying to not care too much.

breathing out a controlled sigh, you take another sip of your mixer, feeling a little dizzier as you pull the cup away from your lips.

but, this time, someone's standing on the other side of the counter, grinning lopsidedly despite himself. dick's mostly showing off the whole apartment his muscles, aside from the glittery waistcoat that covers his pecs, he's got a rainbow flower garland strewn messiky around his neck and some shiny cardboard crown that matches the angle his smile's at.

"having fun?" you just about manage to hold in both a laugh and the liquid you just drank.

his smile widens and he reaches out onto the cluster of unopened cans and bottles for a new one. "like you have no idea — look at me!"

although he's picked up an already-opened can of canada dry, dick doesn't seem to notice as he gestures to his interesting outfit, which you're quite sure he didn't walk in here wearing.

where his original shirt went, you have absolutely no idea, but it will be found eventually.

mirroring his smile, you pluck the can from his hold and replace it with a can of ginger ale, the metal tab still intact, weighted with the slosh of liquid inside. "if we had a competition, you'd win best dressed!" you assure him as he picks at the tab.

he glances back to the rest of the apartment; sure enough, there are some clothes strewn along the floor, but everyone seems to be wearing at least something and chatting, drinking or dancing.

taking a sip of his ginger ale, dick moved around to your side of the counter with a shiver — you recognise the reaction to the carbonated, tangy flavour.

when he reaches you, he's closer than he usually stands, and you try to remember if you ever saw him with a can of something alcoholic. if so, any other situation with him like this would've been a win, but you take a step back, bottom hitting the edge of the oven. in turn, dick turns to lean against the drink-strewn island counter.

"i feel like i haven't seen you all night, have you just been camping out here by the drinks?" he asks with another sip of his canada dry. despite the loud music, which may have been switched from the playlist you first put on now that you think about it, you can hear him perfectly.

as you try to reply, mimicking his coolness, your voice falls too quiet, and you have to raise it slightly. it makes you feel a bit self-conscious in front of him, but if dick's noticed or shares a similar sentiment, he doesn't let on.

"no, i've just been... around." you gesture vaguely around the flat with your drink hand. "you know what it's like to host."

dick's nod is accompanied by a bright smile that doesn't seem to be wavering. "yeah, you never really get to relax."

your eyebrows twitch, gaze wandering back to the tipped beer bottle. "you have no idea." it's more of a throw-away comment, more to yourself than anything, but dick's attentive.

now that you know him, he always seems to be — apart from when someone is trying to enter the same apartment building as him, and has been for the past twenty minutes.

he follows your eyes, and rakes his own along the destruction that's come to your kitchen counter, but glances back, expression unwavering. "i'll stay a bit later, help you clean up?"

later?

it's barely time to count down to twelve, and after that people probably won't leave until three. sure, he's buzzed now, but is he going to be able to survive until that ungodly hour?

still, you send him a smile and thank him, just in time to be whisked away to dance by megan and kory, though you don't keep his offer in mind.

later comes in the form of a spiked blur, the slurred attempt to sing along to the club classic that's come on, a few spilled drinks on your floor and an entirely new year.

by now the music's turned down, but just loud enough to catch the whispered words sung by a hushed britney spears. although the lights are still down, the absolute dregs of dawn is illuminating your front room, a sort of murky turquoise. wally's passed out on the couch with one shoe hanging off his toes, and you're pretty sure someone's in your bed, but you haven't checked.

eyes dry and pinched in exhaust, you rub incessantly at a patch on the floor of your living room with a damp flannel, glaring a hole into your wall.

distant, footsteps approach, but you don't register them until a pair of legs are standing in your eye line.

"(name)?"

with an achey blink, you peer up at the one other person awake.

dick's still shimmering in the half-light, his vest more than anything, but his garland's tucked into his back pocket, spilling down the back of his thigh. even from down here you can tell he's got rings beneath his eyes.

he crouches down to your height, that smile still lingering upon his lips, though his drinks should have worn off ages ago. he offers a cup out to you— no, a mug. warm, still steaming, and your eyes water as he holds it beneath your chin.

"i've just finished up with the counter," he hums, voice soft and slightly hoarse. "my bet's on wally for the spill."

from behind, there's a snort from the couch, and you both send abashed glances back, only to find wally burying his face into one of your cushions.

note to self: throw that one out.

when you turn back to dick, your hand leaves the cloth on the floor, fingers finding the loop of the handle like they've been longing to sit like that all night.

"what have you made?" you ask, blowing cool air along the surface of the amber drink, voice croaking.

"found some chamomile in your drawers when i was looking for your cleaning spray." dick stands to his full height and holds a hand out for you, palm up. for a moment you just stare at it, still blowing on your drink, but his fingers spread as if to state their presence again, and your free hand takes it. "figured we could both use some."

his hand in yours brings you back to your first handshake, except that time he wasn't pulling you up from your knees on the hard ground of your flat, free bicep rippling beneath its tan flesh.

for a year now, you've been telling yourself your little slow-burn plan was working — with every little flirtatious comment, every little lingering smile, he was surely falling for you — but here, him so casually taking your hand and not letting go until reaching the island counter, something stirs and you realise it's been backwards this entire time.

not your flirtatious comments; his.

not your lingering smiles; his.

grateful for a proper seat, you slide onto one of the stools, and dick takes his place standing on the other side of the counter, where his own steaming mug sits.

his finger runs along the rim of his cup and he runs his eyes over the apartment space, ignoring the addition of one dozing wally west. "i'd say we make quite the team, you and me," and he takes the curve of the handle in his grip.

you wish.

"to clean apartments?" you half-snort, realising your throat seered as you did so, and gingerly lifting your chamomile up to your lips. "thought you were more of a street-sweeping type."

opposite you, dick stands straight, his own mug raised, but his lips are stretched in a smile instead of kissing the heat of the herbal tea.

after a moment, he hums and finally sips his drink, though his eyes avert as if in thought.

own fingers drifting along the design on the side, you watch dick in intrigue; the cogs in his mind can practically be seen working, turning with each beat of a second, until, finally, he glances at you — but it's a moment lost too soon, as his gaze settles into the depths of his mug.

"so," he begins, reaching carefully, uncertainly for his mug again. "start your year off right?"

a laugh comes out without warning. "how? i'm not sure some random people sleeping in my house is how i'd usually start off my year, but to each their own."

dick's mouth upturns, but it doesn't quite reach the curve of his eyes. "no, like, when the countdown went." sheepish glance up. "did you meet anyone?"

"meet anyone?" you repeat, an eyebrow twitching.

"sure." dick gives a half-shrug, lifting his mug back up to his lips.

beats pass as you scrutinise every inch of his expression — he's suspicious, but you can't place anything to comment on. "no," you respond dismissvely. "i didn't meet anyone."

still determined to stare elsewhere, dick nods, jutting out his bottom lip in understanding as he places down his tea once again.

"why?" you hum. "did you meet anyone?"

"did i meet anyone?" he repeats, like you had, but he continues before you have a moment to comment on it either. "no, just mostly stuck around jason and wally. it's not like i'm gonna kiss them."

at this, you let out a snicker and dick's smile seems to reach his eyes.

your soft laugh dies out. something by pitbull is buzzing now from the tv's speakers. you take another small sip but you can feel dick's sweet gaze on you still, and you dare to meet his eyes, your smile growing, but you attempt to bite it back.

"what's up?"

dick doesn't respond, but his lips wobble slightly as he reaches up for the crown still perched atop his black waves. gold between his fingers, he reaches out for you, and the cardboard slips down over your eyes as he places it upon your own head. his knuckles brush along your brow bone as he adjusts it.

although he doesn't speak, there's almost no need for him to.

something in his lake como eyes has changed, all whilst looking at you.

oh, yeah. you've got him.

#aangelinakii #dc #dc comics #dc imagines #dc reactions #dc headcanons #dc universe #dick grayson #dick grayson reactions #dick grayson drabble #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcanons #richard grayson #nightwing #nightwing imagines #Spotify

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igotanidea · 2 years ago

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Walk down memory lane : AK!Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: mention of self harm and suicidal thoughts.

You can find other AK!stories on point 4 here: Jason Todd masterlist

***

She was just so tired.

Tired of fighting, of keeping up that fucking hope, of carrying the excessive weight on her shoulders.

She just couldn’t anymore .

Maybe it was time to finally accept that Jason didn’t care about her. That he would never care again. Not in the same way he used to before all this shit hit them. Before Joker, Harley, Arkham…

But she still needed, wanted, craved his love.

But how long can a girl be strong and live in a delusion?

And for the first time in a year she started crying.

What Harley could not achieve, happened because of a boy. No amount of torture and mind games and tricks she was subject to in Arkham, not once broke her. But the indifference and cold treatment from her former boyfriend, the one who she still loved got her on her knees, sobbing and shaking on the bed in her little, cold Asylum cell.

He was right. She was completely alone, no one was coming to help her, safe her from that void that finally found a way straight to her heart. Nothing more than a playtoy, unlovable, weak, pathetic, developing a heavy case of Stockholm syndrome.

Poor girl hugged herself in a foul attempt to calm down, but it was for nothing. Tears were falling freely down her cheeks, turning her into a puddle of emotions she couldn’t hold back. It was like the old wound and the feeling of being used opened and uncovered all the layers she cut off before.

Some people call it trauma, but she couldn’t care less about the terminology.

Maybe it would be better to just end her own life right now just so she wouldn’t have to suffer through another day of such lousy existence. It was Arkham, she was pretty sure she would find something to help her execute her plan.

On shaking legs she stood up from the bed, moving towards the bathroom. The mirror that Jason broke violently after their last encounter was still not fixed and the sharp pieces of glass poked on every side.

Perfect.

Gathering all the strength she had left, she reached towards the splinter and pointed it towards her wrist, assessing the “best” place to cut……

***

She woke up feeling sore and in tremendous amount of pain like never before. Both of her wrists were patched up with the clean bandages and she wasn’t even in her own sweatbox. Honestly, she couldn’t for the love of God recognise the place where she was, until the familiar, slightly muffled voice threw her off her confused state and brought back to reality.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?!” Jason hissed with unconcealed anger and she shivered. “WHAT WERE YOU TRYING TO DO!?” in a blink of an eye he was right next to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes up.

She was just completely silent, the tight grip of his fingers on her puffy, hurting cheeks causing a few more tears to flow down her eyes.

“I’m sorry��..” she whispered, slightly panicking. He was never supposed to find her, let alone to save her. And why did he? Was it only because he needed her for release in the future? “I’m sorry…..” her whole body shook violently.

“Y/N…….” her name in his mouth sounded almost sweet and the touch got far more gentle, sudden change in behaviour making her freeze. What was going on?

“I……” her mouth fell agape and it was impossible to say a word.

“Did you forget what I told you last time? You’re mine. You can’t just go and decide to hurt yourself this way. I cannot allow it.”

“Why?” she sobbed “it’s not like you care. I am just a reminder of the past, of all those lies you were fed by Batman and your family. Of someone you once were and could never be again.”

“Stop it!”

“Please, please, just let me go. Just let me finish it, please.” Her desperation and panic attack coming out in waves in the form of the aggressive tugging on the dressing, trying to reopen the stitched wounds and cuts. “I’ll do it myself. You won’t even have to lift a finger.”

“Stop it!’

“You can even watch it, I know you’ll enjoy the show. You wanted a show, didn’t you?”

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE STOP IT!” finally he managed to get a hold of her hands, pinning them down to her sides, precluding her from moving, even though she still struggled against his hold. “Is that what you think of me? That I will enjoy that?” she nodded shakily “fuck!”

“I’m sorry…..” she whimpered again. She was still here and he was now mad which could only equal to another punishment. And this time it was not going to be intimate. He could really hurt her at any time.

“Baby…..” he whispered, almost without thinking, closing his eyes “princess.”

“Wha….. what did you say?” her eyes grew wide. Did he really use those words or was it just an imagination?

Jason was completely inside his head now, memories flooding his brain like a fucking Niagara. He remembered the past. The moment, when while still being Robin, someone came after her, attacking her and almost eliminating her from the equation. He recalled the hours spend in the medical bay, watching her pale face and the heart rate monitor, praying to whatever entity was up there to bring her back to him. All those little heart attacks caused each time she took a sharp exhale. Falling asleep next to her bed, holding and caressing her cold hand, whispering pleas and promises to keep her safe in the future if she just woke up. Brushing up on how he felt when she finally opened her e/c eyes, looking at him with so much love and concern, asking if he was all right.

He remembered how she cared about him….. And how he cared about her.

“Ja…. Jace?” she swallowed the lump in her throat, taking the risk to use his nickname, ready for another anger fit, but instead she met his honest gaze, so different from the one she was used to in his Arkham Knight version.

“Don’t ever do this again.” He gasped, brushing her cheek, putting a strand of hair behind her ear “you hear me? Ever.”

“Jason?” he bottom lip trembled because of that sudden display of emotion from his part.

“Ever.” He emphasised. “I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“Ok……”

“Anyone who hurt you deserve a punishment and that applies to you hurting yourself. Is that clear?”

“Anyone, but you?” she blurt without thinking and immediately covered her mouth in fear of the words that came out her mouth.

Jason tensed a bit, his muscles flexing but he didn’t move.

“Get some rest. Need you recovered soon. Big plans for you.” He just said and with one final look into her eyes left the room, leaving her completely speechless.

…..

#jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x oc #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #arkham knight #arkham knight angst #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x y/n #arkham knight imagine #arkhamverse

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miryum · 6 months ago

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"Tactical Village"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy's relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

“Do you recognise any of these men?” Y/n asked a woman who was wearing a ‘Visitor’ tag.

The woman shook her head, saying, “I was hiding in the bathroom stall so I didn’t see his face. But, I heard him. He was singing along to the track.”

“Do you remember what he was singing?”

“Oh my gosh, no, Y/n,” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Don’t do it….” Y/n chuckled along with him. Captain Wayne had assigned a detective to Y/n whenever she interrogated a perp. There had been an… incident.

Cass didn’t know who gave Y/n a guitar, but the woman was currently torturing a perp with her terrible playing of the instrument, accompanying the sound with loud, off-tune screaming.

The woman shrugged. “I think it was that song ‘I Want it That Way.’ ”

Y/n hummed. “Backstreet Boys, I’m familiar.”

“Maybe a little too familiar,” Jason muttered. He thought of all the times Y/n had agonised both the criminals and detectives on duty with their songs.

“Number one,” Y/n ignored Jason, pressing a button for the intercom. “Could you please sing the opening to ‘I Want it That Way?’”

“Really? Uh… okay,” Perp 1 said. “You are… my fire?”

Y/n glanced over to the witness who shook her head. “Number two, keep it going.”

“The one… desire.” Perp 2 squinted to Perp 1, looking for confirmation that this was actually happening.

“Number three?” Y/n nodded along to the nonexistent beat.

“Believe… when I say?”

“Number four!” Y/n called out, grinning widely, leaning on the desk.

“I want it that way.”

“TELL ME WHY!” Y/n sang loudly into the microphone.

“Ain’t nothing but a heartache,” all the suspects chanted along.

“TELL ME WHY!”

“Ain’t nothing but a mistake…”

“Now number five,” Y/n crooned to the melody.

Perp 5 raised his hand, losing himself in the music. “I never wanna hear you say,”

“WHOO!” Y/n shouted out.

“I want it that way,” everyone finished together.

“Chills! Literal chills!” Y/n shivered, giggling.

“It was number five,” the woman said. “Number five killed my brother.”

“Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about that,” Jason murmured. “And, Y/n, just so you know, you pressed the ‘speaker’ button. Everyone in the precinct could hear that.”

“Ohhh… whoops?”

“Happy Tactical Village Day!” Y/n high-fived Tim on her way in the door. “Happy Tactical Village Day, Cass! Happy Tactical Village Day!”

“L/n, I'm surprised to see you so excited about departmentally mandated training exercises,” Wayne commented.

“Why, ‘tis the most fun day of the year, my good sir! Something you wouldn't understand, because you're not programmed to feel joy.”

“Yes, but my software is due for an upgrade,” Wayne retorted.

”When you play along with the robot jokes it ruins my enjoyment of them,” Y/n pouted.

“Yes, I am aware.”

“Anyway, Tactical Village Day is awesome!” Y/n continued with her rant. “We get to field test a bunch of cool, new weapons and there's always a fun training situation. Last year's was prison break. It got uber violent. It was like being in an action movie.” Her eyes went wide with excitement.

Y/n was using a piece of her hair to slowly chisel away at a metal bar of a cell.

“Y/n?” Steph called from the other end of the cell. “Cass and I dug a tunnel. Wanna use it?”

“Go on without me,” Y/n said in a deep, gruff voice. “I’ll make due by myself.”

“It's also a good opportunity for us to bond as a unit,” Steph said, reminding them all the true reason of Tactical Village Day.

“Everybody gets into it,” Y/n exclaimed.

Jason kicked down a door and he and Dick rushed through it, screaming as they stormed the room.

It turned out to be a supply closet.

“Suffice to say, the sixty-sixth has never had a perfect run,” Dick chuckled and scratched his neck.

“Yeah, but Y/n has been the finalist for coolest kill two years in a row,” Stephanie said. “Every precinct sends their footage and all the cops vote.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” Y/n waved her away. “All you win is a children's tennis trophy, so…”

“You desperately want that trophy, don't you?” Wayne asked.

“So badly.” Y/n growled. “I will stop at nothing to obtain my prize. I'll shoot all of you in the face if I have to!”

“Go team,” Damian said monotonously.

“Okay, so,” Y/n slid into the seat next to Jason’s on the bus ride over. “I’ve figured out my fictional persona for this year’s shooty-shooty rootin-tootie.”

“How the hell do you come up with these names?” Jason muttered, mostly to himself.

“I am… Gina Thunderhouse. Russian spy, weapons master, and total badass. I even have cool Russian accent.” she said in a bad accent. “Babushka. Moscow. Rasputin.”

“You know ‘babushka’ means ‘grandma,’ right?”

“Whatever. At least I have a persona, Mr. I’m-not-even-trying-to-be-fun.”

“This training isn’t about fun,” Jason frowned. “It’s about honing our skills to be better officers.”

“We shoot paint at pretend bad guys!” Y/n cried. “How is that not fun?!”

“I’m gonna go talk to Dick,” Jason said, standing up. “You have fun thinking of more Russian words.”

Steph quickly filled Jason’s empty seat, grinning sharply. “Seems like you two are getting cosy!”

“Come on, Brown. Not this again!”

“You gotta admit there’s spark.”

“How many times do I have to tell you?!” Y/n exclaimed. “He’s like a brother to me.”

“And Leia was like a sister to Luke,” Steph sang out.

“Okay, that’s not fair. Luke didn’t know! No one knew.”

Steph shrugged and let the conversation go, though a smile flitted through her lips. Soon, the sixty-sixth arrived at the building where Tactical Village Day would commence. Walking in the doors, duffel bags full of gear and weapons in hand, Y/n shouted out, “The six-six is in the house!”

“Six-six!” The rest of the crew echoed.

“Hey! Biz!” Y/n greeted an old friend. “They upgraded you from bystander to perp! That’s great, man. Still gonna blow your brains out though.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Biz waved back.

“Jason Todd?” A voice spoke from a crowd of detectives and cops. “Is that you?”

“Rose?” Jason’s head whipped towards the voice. “It’s been so long! What’re you doing here?”

“I’m with the seventeenth now,” she explained. “We’re paired with you guys today.” Rose was a tall, slim, blonde girl whom it seemed Jason connected with very well.

“Wha- what’s going on here?” Y/n shuffled up to them, Steph close behind.

“Oh, Y/n, this is Rose Wilson.” Rose held out a hand and Y/n firmly shook it. “Rose, this is Y/n L/n. She’s the life of the six-six.” He placed a hand on Y/n’s lower back, pushing her slightly forward.

“Nice to meet you,” Rose said.

“Likewise,” Y/n pressed her lips together in a smile.

“Well, I gotta go,” Rose hugged Jason. “I’ll see you later, though. Great seeing you.”

“You too,” Jason returned the hug.

Once Rose had left with a wave, Y/n turned to Jason and questioned, “So… who was that?”

“That was Rose,” Jason said as if it was the most obvious thing. “We went on a couple of dates last year.”

“You did?” Steph asked. Y/n had forgotten she was behind her. Cass joined them, silently backing up her friends.

“Yeah, I liked her, but she was stationed in Metropolis so I didn’t get to see much of her. I guess it just fizzled out.”

“Right,” Y/n gawaffed. “That's the girl you said the lame stuff about. Like ‘she's a good listener’ and shit.” Internally, she felt bad for deriding Rose- she seemed like a nice person- but she couldn’t help but take a rag at Jason.

“I'm sorry, what do you look for in a relationship?” Jason asked snarkily.

“I don't know,” Y/n shrugged. “Real stuff. Shape of their ass. Sense of dark humour.”

“Of course.” Jason rolled his eyes and stalked away.

“Isn’t it weird that Jason dated that girl?” Y/n scoffed, hands on her hips.

Steph raised her brows, mirroring L/n’s stance. “Why do you care so much?” Her voice rose higher with each word.

“Okay, first of all, your insinuating voice is way too high,” Y/n accused. “It's weird. And second, I don't care. I'm just wondering why he would like her.”

“Whatever you say,” Steph said, voice still high-pitched and she shuddered. “Okay, yeah, I hear it now. I sound like Cat from Sam and Cat.”

“Yes, you do.” Cass agreed. “But, I agree. L/n needs to confront her feelings for Todd and woman up.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and excused herself from the conversation, claiming the need to talk to Tim.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Y/n squealed, holding a parallel gun. “You can shoot around corners. I love guns.” She sighed and said, “I'm gonna make such a good mom someday.”

Jason shook his head, lips pursing. “Not even gonna touch that.”

“Not even gonna touch that: Title of your sex tape,” Y/n muttered, then chuckled. “Come on, man. At least make me work for it.”

Soon, it was time for the sixty-sixth to run the simulation. The team was standing by the door, waiting to be let in when Y/n slid by on her knees, making a dramatic entrance. “Gina Thunderhouse had arrived.” Her voice was, once again, accented in a bad Russian tone.

“That was majestic,” Tim joked.

“Custom kneepads to help me win coolest kill,” Y/n patted her knees, showing off her kneepads. After an awkward silence, she asked, “What, don't tell me Thunderhouse is the only lady here with a signature move!”

Tim shrugged. “I was bouncing around the idea where when I'm out of ammo, I release my mag and dropkick or chuck it into someone's throat.”

“You know how people hold their guns sideways to look cool?” Dick asked. Y/n nodded and the sarge continued, “It got me thinking. What if you held your gun upside-down?” He demonstrated it, flipping his gun upside down, finger still on trigger.

Before Y/n could respond with how that was an incredibly stupid idea, a loud buzzer sounded and another precinct marched out the door, looking victorious.

“Seventeenth’s done.” Y/n muttered and Stephanie stepped closer to her. “Heads up.”

“Hey. How'd it go?” Jason greeted Rose.

Rose smiled and replied, “it went well. We had a perfect run! And not to brag, but I think we just set a GCPD course record for time.”

“Definitely a brag,” Y/n huffed quietly.

“A course record?” Jason’s brows shot up. “That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” Rose looked up at him. “I'm psyched. By the way, good luck in there.”

“Thanks,” Jason called after her as she walked away.

“All right, huddle up.” Y/n pulled Jason away by the strap of his vest and into a group huddle. “This is how it's going down.”

“What happened to your accent, Gina?” Steph asked teasingly, knowing full well what was going on.

“Forget that shit.” Y/n frowned. “We're taking this seriously. Okay, on three: Let's break that course record and be the best precinct here! One, two, three!”

The group repeated, “let’s break that course record and… uh…” They all trailed off, mumbling different things as they forgot the words.

“Yeah, I agree, it was too many words.” Y/n grimaced. “Let’s just do it.”

“Okay, I've got the details for this simulation.” Dick sat in front of a console, radioing in to everyone’s headsets. “A group of armed men entered an embassy and took hostages.”

“Which embassy?” Y/n couldn't help but ask. She shook her head, reminding herself to stay focused. “Doesn't matter. We’ll just say, Canada. They’re too nice to say no if someone asks to take them hostage. So take out the perps, clear the civilians, rescue the hostages?”

“Affirmative,” Dick confirmed. “This is an active shooter situation. You're cleared for maximum engagement.”

“‘Maximum engagement?’” Y/n scoffed. “What is this, Jurassic Park: The Ride?”

Dick didn’t answer, commanding, “Brown and Drake, perimeter security. Brown, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, but also doesn’t die from caffeine overdose. He only got two and a half hours last night.”

“Got it,” Brown said, yanking Tim’s cup of coffee away from him.

“L/n and Todd, you're the assault team. I'll be in the command centre. Cain, I need you to do surveillance on the places I can’t see.”

“On it.” Cass disappeared into the vents and Dick stared after her, wondering how she didn’t end up as an assassin-for-hire.

“All right, focus up,” Y/n said into the comms. “We got eighteen minutes and forty-one seconds to break this record. No screwing around.”

“Wow, you're really not gonna do a character?” Jason asked, smirking.

“I am playing a character,” Y/n said. “A no-nonsense detective whose only goal is to set this course record. Her name is Y/n L/n. She’s a kid who grew up with an absent father and just wants to prove herself. I don't have time for her full back-story. Sarge, please, let’s start.”

“Okay, guys, and go!” Dick clicked a stopwatch and the team rushed in.

Y/n zipped around a corner, gun drawn. When she didn’t see anyone, she called, “clear!”

She and Jason repeated the actions, peeking around corners and yelling, “clear.”

Y/n turned around a corner and fired two shots at a cop labelled “PERP.”

“Nice,” Jason commented.

Y/n ignored him and said, “okay, only three perps left. We might actually do this.”

Dick’s voice came in through the comms. “L/n, Cain has intel that there’s a hostage in room 409.”

“Copy that.” Y/n inhaled and said, “I love how it always smells like fresh paint here. Reminds me of how often I moved as a child.”

“No talking,” Jason reminded her. “You'll give away our position.”

“Look out!” Y/n was staring over his shoulder. She quickly lifted her gun and fired a shot at someone.

Jason shielded away from the noise. “That was close.” He inspected Y/n and said, “there's paint in your hair.” He reached up and smoothed the paint away. “Thanks for shooting that guy.”

“My pleasure.” Y/n followed him around the corner and stared at a door marked 409. “The hostages are in there. Intel says there's a couple of heavily-armed perps with them.”

Jason asked, “you want to wait for backup?”

Y/n shook her head. “No time. We only have a minute to win the record.” She sighed and declared, “I'm going in.” At Jason’s scandalised look, she reassured him, smiling. She gently took Jason’s gun from his hands. “Don't worry. I have a plan on how to beat them: Give up.”

“What?!”

“Trust me,” Y/n said. “Or don't.” She shrugged. “I'm doing it anyway.” Jason’s heart dropped, watching her walk cautiously into the room. She announced, hands holding her guns in the air, “GCPD! Don't shoot!” Inside the room were two perps, guarding three hostages. “I'm here to surrender,” Y/n told them. The hostages looked at her as if she was crazy. “Let the hostages go and take me instead,” she said.

“Not happening.” One of the perps growled. “Drop your weapon!”

”Okay, okay, my fingers are off the triggers.” Y/n agreed, dangling her guns off her fingers. “I'm just gonna slowly put them down in front of me….” She started crouching down. Jason watched, aghast, from the doorway. “I’m slowly putting 'em…” Suddenly, she twisted her fingers around and pulled the triggers, shooting the two perps in the chest.

“Goddamn it!” One of the perps yelled.

“Dick, time!” Y/n shouted into her comm.

“18 minutes, 28 seconds. You broke the record!” Dick cried back.

“Yes! Nice!” Jason ran in and hugged Y/n tightly, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around. She squealed and hugged him back.

Jason paraded her out of the room and they greeted their teammates to a chorus of cheers, applause, and claps on the back.

“Ah, there she is!” Dick called.

“The record is ours.” Y/n spread her arms.

“I still can't believe your final kill came from Dick’s move.” Tim shook his head, looking disgusted.

“You went upsy-downsies?” Dick gasped. “That's what I call it, because you hold the gun upside-down.”

Y/n sighed. “Yes, Richard, I went upsy-downsies. And none of you shall ever speak of it again.”

“But I want to speak of it,” Jason whined. “You looked really stupid.”

“Alright, let's go.” Dick grinned. “Drinks are on me.”

“Nice! Here we go, six-six!” Y/n held her hand up to Jason for a high-five, face flushed with excitement.

Jason grimaced. “Actually, Rose asked me to dinner, so maybe I can meet up with you guys afterwards?”

Y/n’s face dropped. “Oh. Sure. Yeah. Of course. Cool. Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool.” Jason nodded and left, giving goodbyes as he walked away.

“What's going on, Gina Thunderhouse?” Cass smirked, sidling up with Steph.

Y/n muttered, “what do you think Jason sees in Rose?”

“So you do like him!” Steph accused, smiling slyly.

“I'm just curious!” Y/n tried to defend. “I mean, she's okay-looking and a good cop….” But aren’t I okay-looking and a good cop? “Also, she set the course record, but that's nothing. I broke it, like, 20 minutes later.”

“You want to know why he went out with her and not you?” Cass asked quietly.

“Yeah.” Y/n swallowed harshly.

“Because she actually asked him out,” Steph finished.

Captain Wayne raised a brow, looking down at Y/n’s desk. “You won coolest kill?” He gestured to the small tennis trophy Y/n was staring at.

“No- not by a long shot.” She chuckled dryly. “But Dick bought it for me ‘cause he felt like I should’ve won. But he’s bias, of course.”

“Of course.” Captain Wayne smiled softly. “Detective, are you alright?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Captain,” Y/n mumbled. “Can- can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, L/n.”

Y/n looked up at Wayne. “How’d you know Clark was the one?” she whispered.

Bruce sighed and offered, “come into my office. And bring your trophy.”

Doing as she was told, Y/n followed Bruce into his office. She sat down and Bruce took the trophy from her, placing it on his desk proudly. “When I first got here, Damian told me of your predicament.” When Y/n’s mouth fell open in betrayal, Bruce held up his hand. “I would’ve figured it out either way. I used to be a detective, after all. But what he didn’t know is if Todd liked you back. However, based on months of observation, I’ve noticed, for lack of a better simile, that Todd follows you like a lost puppy. I should know; I acted the same way towards Clark before we started dating.”

“Did you ask him out?” Y/n asked.

Bruce let out a laugh. “God, no. I was too scared. But that’s not an invitation to make the same mistakes I did. I lost a lot of time with Clark because of my anxiety.”

“Duly noted, Captain. Thank you.”

“Anytime, L/n. And good job in the Tactical Village.”

“Thank you, sir.”

#title of your sex tape #jason todd x reader #jason todd #dc x reader #dcu #detectives au #brooklyn 99 #b99 #b99/dcu #slow burn

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serafilms · 1 year ago

Text

song 13! about you (the 1975) + jason todd requested by @harleycao (spotify wrapped event)

there was something ‘bout you that now i can’t remember, it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender

Jason’s memories of you have gotten fuzzier since coming back from the dead. This is strange, alarming almost, considering that when he first woke from his eternal slumber, the only word he could remember from his past was your name.

Y/N.

He had the faintest memory of your face, the smile that curved, but nothing more. When he took up a new life as the Red Hood, his past had returned to him, and with it all the details of you. Your name, face, aspirations, favourite book, the way you smelled. But as his anger grew, as he leaned further into his life as a vigilante, further into his resentment of Batman, his thoughts of you became less clear.

The image of your face seems distorted now. Your smile has twisted into nothing. He can no longer remember why you liked the things you did, nor can he pinpoint the scent he once knew so well.

He loved you. He knows that much. But why?

The snow on his shoulders is shaken off as he uses his grappling hook to launch himself atop a building. He crouches on top of it and tries to ignore the memory of Batman perching by his side. Old habits die hard, he supposes. But he's not the boy he used to be.

Still, some part of his old self lingers beneath the surface, in that fuzzy echo of you. And he's determined to find out the reason, even if it crushes every ounce of his soul. It can't get much worse, anyway, he thinks.

He's already done his research. He knows your address, license plate number, university and major. He knows that at this time of night, you'll have gotten back from work and probably be making dinner in your apartment. In the building that he's sitting across from right now.

He counts out the windows. Seventh floor, third from the left. One, two, three. He can see light from some of the windows of the building, but his angle provides no view to the apartments inside. he'll have to go over. He stands.

Then, he hesitates. Because for as much time as he's spent thinking about you and trying to find you, he never planned what to do when he has. What even is his goal? To ruin your life by bringing up bad memories? To ruin his own life by seeing the one you've built without him? Something digs into the crevices of his chest painfully.

No, he thinks, I just want to see how you are.

He steels himself and swings across to the building. He counts as he goes – one, two, three. The curtains are shut so he can only see his reflection, but the fourth window, where your living room would be, is ajar, light streaming out into the dark of the night.

Glancing into the window next to him (your bedroom, he thinks), He almost flinches. He'll never get used to the glowing green of his eyes, which serves as yet another reminder that he's not the same boy he used to be, because that boy is as good as dead. He wonders for a moment if you would recognise him. He pushes the thought aside.

He inches closer to the open window until he's right beside the opening. His breath turns shallow knowing that you're so close, and he feels his heart hammering in his chest, so quickly and painfully that he's sure it's going to burst out.

He hears feet shuffling inside the room and freezes. His heart hammers in his chest and he wills himself to stay silent.

The footsteps grow nearer and he sees a shadow forming on the windowsill until he knows you're standing at it. So close. You're so close.

He tries to move away a little so you won't see him, but as his foot makes contact with the side of the building, there's a scuffling sort of knock against the brick. He watches with bated breath as your shadow wavers.

Then, he hears it.

"Jason?"

Your question comes out as a whisper, but he hears it and it's so clearly you, and his stomach lurches.

Something tugs at his heart, and he feels himself moving towards you, as if he's being pulled along by some invisible string.

Then, he's at your window, pulling it open higher and looking at you.

He sees your face, more defined than he remembers. Your hair is less messy, and your eyes are more tired. But he knows it's you and all of a sudden his heart is clenching and contracting like it hasn't known what it's like to beat properly until it saw you. It's been stagnant all these years, he knows, and as he rakes his eyes over your face, he can't help but climb through the window urgently, taking off his helmet and mask as he does. He's afraid that you were never real, and that you'll slip from his mind again; he's afraid because his heart is finally remembering what it feels like to love you.

The shock on your face isn't as profound as he thought it would be. Your expression twists, as if you're going through a range of emotions. Surprise, confusion, recognition, grief, contemplation.

"Jason," you say. It's no longer a question.

He nods.

You stare at him for a moment, then you step closer and your arms wrap around him.

Jason's heart feels tender in his chest, as he wraps his arms hesitantly around you as well. You fit well together, and it feels more natural than he expected, to slot his head in the space next to yours. He inhales slowly and a tear slides down his cheek.

"You remember me," he mutters.

You hold him closer and Jason feels warm, alive for the first time since his death. "How could I forget?"

something of a sequel to my hope ur ok drabble!!! loosely inspired by percy only remembering annabeth in the lost hero

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