#You fumbled jason in every way ever | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

benevolentbones · 6 months ago

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gideondaughter!reader and spencer first time talking when the team goes to dinner and spencer is just a mess talking to her

thank you sm for the request!! hope you enjoy<3 requests are still open i’ll be working through them!

kids table | spencer reid x gideon!reader part 1

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, light flirting.

word count: 1.5k

summary: it’s gideon’s birthday dinner and the team are here to celebrate.

“are you sure he booked it for 8:30?” jj hummed, holding her clutch purse close to her sage green maxi dress.

“yes. gideon party of nine at mastro’s, 8:30pm.” spencer recalled, having the time and place drilled into his mind in fear of being late.

“party of nine? but there’s only eight of us?” elle’s brows contorted, she counted everyone in the room. jj, morgan, reid, garcia, hotch, prentiss, herself and then gideon who was yet to show, that was only eight.

“maybe he’s bringing a date?” penelope chuckled, her hands smoothing down the hem of her fitted pencil dress.

“gideon? with a date? i highly doubt that.” morgan snickered, leaning against garcia.

the group of agents waited rather impatiently for gideon to arrive to the restaurant. all adorned in their best dress for the awaited man of the hours birthday dinner.

hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb.

“it’s only 8:25, he will be here.” he muttered out.

spencer began to fumble with his hands, he would class himself as a fairly patient man, the only thing on his mind currently was who the mystery ninth guest could be. he didn’t like not knowing things, it was part of being a profiler he guessed.

the doors to the dimly lit restaurant swung open, jason gideon walking in full stride with a grin on his face. he wore a navy blue suit jacket paired with his signature chinos.

“finally you’re here, they’ve been complaining for the last ten minutes.” prentiss sighed, placing a hand on her hip.

“its not even 8:30, i said i would be on time- but y/n here couldn’t find the shoes she wanted to wear.” gideon let out a small chuckle as a figure walked through the doors behind him.

a girl, roughly in her early twenties stood beside gideon. her hands clamped together in front of her, a black satin dress adorned her figure, hugging her nicely, which she paired with matching black heels.

“well i found them in the end, dad.” she mumbled out, greeting the group with a small smile.

half the team stood there it awe, mouths gaped and eyes locked on the latest arrivals.

“you clean up nice, jason.” hotch nodded towards the older man, then turning his sights on you.

“beautiful as ever.” he smiled, which he rarely did, and leaned over to give you a hug.

“thanks uncle aaron.” you grinned back, embracing his warm hug.

“i’m sorry you need to catch us up real quick- dad? uncle?” morgan titled his head like a confused puppy.

“i didn’t realise you’d have trouble putting two and two together, morgan. this is my daughter, y/n.” gideon mused, ushering you further into the room.

you held out your hand, derek quickly took it in his, giving it a small shake, cogs in his mind still visibly turning.

“and aaron isn’t actually my uncle- he just acts like it.” you pulled your hand back, returning it to your side.

gideon quickly introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone seeming to come to terms with the fact gideon had a ‘secret’ daughter that he never once brought up.

all the while spencer stood, hands glued to his sides as he eyed you. he had never seen someone so perfect, the way the dress hung from your frame, the way you politely greeted every member of the team.

when gideon had finally reached him to introduce y/n to him, he was caught off guard.

“reid, meet my daughter y/n, im sure it’s not as hard for you to understand.” gideon hummed, making a dig at morgan who had migrated with the group to where the table was set up.

unlike the others, you kept your hand to yourself, but shot spencer a sweet smile.

“it’s really nice to meet you dr. reid- my dad has told me so much about you, i know you’re not big on handshakes.”

spencer’s heart was practically doing backflips at this point. he was completely enamoured by you.

“really nice- to meet you too.” he managed to stutter out.

gideon internally rolled his eyes, knowing exactly what was happening.

“how about we sit down and look at the menu.” he began to usher his daughter towards the table, spencer following quick at his heels.

by the time the three of them had reached where the table set for nine was, the rest of the team were sat, eagerly awaiting them. the only free spaces were at either end of the rectangular table, and an extra place next to the end seat.

“hey gideon come look at this” jj beckoned the older man over, to the head of the table. he briefly turned back to his daughter, before he could utter a word she nodded, knowing that she wouldn’t be sitting with him.

“guess we can sit down at the end together.” you affirmed, shuffling to the free seats with spencer by your side.

once seated, everyone began flipping through the menu, all besides spencer who’s gaze every so often flickered over to the girl beside him, who seemed deep in thought about what she was going to order.

“what are you going to get?” she asked, attempting to make quiet conversation with the man at her side.

spencer hummed, he had researched the restaurant before hand noting all of the dishes he might like.

“the uh- the pasta, i think.” he paused for a moment. “what about you?” he cursed the heat that rose to his face, lifting his hand to loosen the dark purple tie around his neck.

you smiled, still scanning the menu, taking glimpses of spencer in his flustered state.

you had heard many things about most of the team throughout your fathers years of working with them, and when he finally allowed you to meet them, you were most excited to meet spencer.

“i might have that too, it sounds good.”

a few hours had past since everyone had sat down, everyone had finished eating and were now onto their fourth round of drinks, all besides you and spencer.

everyone was deep in conversation about a case from a few years back, obviously you had no clue what they were talking about.

you turned to spencer, who seemed to have gotten more comfortable being in such close proximity to you.

“i swear it feels like we are sitting at the kids table at a christmas dinner.” you giggled to yourself.

“i know right- it’s it’s like we aren’t even here.” spencer returned the chuckle, his heart beating a little faster.

“how are you enjoying the night- i hope im not boring you too much, if you want to join the rest of them feel free.” you mumbled out, eyes migrating to your hands that you had placed on your lap.

“no no- i like it here, i like you- i mean i like being with you i-“ spencer fumbled on his words, causing you to smile. god he was a complete mess.

you reached a hand over, placing it on spencer’s forearm. he could swear his skin felt like it was burning from your touch.

“i like being with you too, spencer.” you whispered out, a soft pink blush dusting your cheeks.

his hazel eyes locked with yours, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. he was partly confused as to why someone like you had enjoyed his awkwardness and rambling.

to say he had little experience talking to women in more than a friendly way, was an understatement.

he was completely out of his depth, and the fact that your father, his boss, sat at the other end of the table made things a little more awkward for him.

“you look really-good tonight, by the way.” he managed to mumble out, without sounding like a complete idiot.

this caused your face to flush, darting your eyes away from him briefly.

“thank you spencer.”

“would you maybe want to-“ before he could continue, gideon had stood up from the table, all eyes were on him.

“lets go y/n, your old man is getting too tired for this.” he joked.

“oh right-“ you stood up quickly brushing off your dress, you did a small lap of the table thanking everyone for the lovely evening and telling them it was great to meet them.

you then followed gideon out of the room, all remaining eyes were now on spencer who slumped down into his chair.

“that’s rough man, you had all night and didn’t even ask her out.” morgan shook his head lightly, feeling somewhat bad for the boy genius.

before spencer could say anything, he watched you dart back into the room, a piece of paper in your grasp. you quickly placed it in spencer’s hand before pressing a light peck to his cheek and running off out of the restaurant again.

the now flustered brunette un crumpled the paper, scanning the scribbled words.

thanks for talking all night, id love to go out with you sometime x

555-555-555 - y/n

“never mind- atta boy!”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #fluff #jason gideon #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #penelope garcia #jenifer jareau #elle greenaway #emily prentiss

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hana-no-seiiki · 5 months ago

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BROKEN EXPECTATIONS, NEW ASPIRATIONS (I/III)

⟣┄─ ˑ 𝐈. ✧ yandere! batfam + dc heroes x yandere! alien! reader (ft. ocs of mine, and other dc characters)

synopsis: you weren’t as innocent and benevolent as they thought you were, but that just makes things all the more exciting

tw/cw: dddne, reader is yan (platonic for this part, romantic for future parts(diff people). yandere themes, general violence, torture, sadist reader, incest (one-sided/not reader n it’s a brief mention so it’s not a main part of the story oh god-). reader is half based on jingliu/jingyuan from honkai star rail + laezel from bg3 worldbuilding. and there’s also a bit of malenia/miquella inspirations. reader has a background. reader’s alieness is explored/talked about. op! reader. wish fulfillment.

in short this was an oc insert of mine that i reconfigured for you guys to read. not your thing? scroll past thenks.

[next]

YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE KINDEST, MOST LOVING PERSON THE BAT-FAMILY EVER KNEW. You were so gracious with your benevolence that each and every vigilante took it upon themselves to take care of you at all moments lest you fall into unsafe situations or the hands of people who would ruthlessly take advantage of you.

Eventually, they forgot the fact that you were the sibling of the notoriously violent DAYBREAK, a vigilante that could be easily called a villain or terrorist instead if it weren’t for his close affiliation and friendship with the old Teen Titans crew when he was younger. He helped once in a while, but only if it meant he had free rein to cause carnage.

“This is useless, they won’t fess up.” Jason grunted as he fumbled around with his weapons, all broken after the battle just moments prior. Aliens and their abilities always made him feel so small in the grand scheme of things, and especially when they completely obliterated his entire arsenal.

Tim groaned, his back ached from the amount of times he was flung away towards whatever wall or ally the enemy wanted him to go to. He was used to being man-handled and even enjoyed that once in a while, but not in that way. “Aren’t they one of your kind? Cant you like… I don’t know…”

Your brother huffed, a pout on his pretty features. Quite similar to yours. Yet, he doesn’t spare the rest a glance. His eyes were trained solely on a restraining spell he managed to conjure as a last ditch attempt to stop the fight before it got . . . irreversible. Usually he’d just disintegrate whatever or whoever even looked at him wrong but even this titan-like intruder was proving to be a pain in the ass. “I can’t believe you, doesn’t mean we’re the same kind or whatever that means that—“

“He’ll be lucky to be even considered as one of us, filthy —“ The massive form spoke. Its metal like body clanging as it struggled in the spell’s area of effect. A soldier from your home planet, not as well trained as your brother — but he was brimming with aetherial ardor. A sort of magic source your people used.

“Okay, that’s it.” [Brother’s Name] groaned, summoning the last piece of his strength to open up a terminal. “Hey mooncake, need ya to do something for me.”

“No, we aren’t letting [Y/N] anywhere near this one. They could get seriously hurt. We were barely even able to—“ Dick held him by the shoulder, only to get burned by your brother’s leaking ardorial energy.

“Relax. Besides I’m not in your team. I don’t have to follow orders from you.”

“Daybr—“ Rachel, her cape almost completely burnt and tattered opened her mouth to admonish him.

But the sound of your sweet voice (more like hoarse, and half awake) silenced them all, “What do you need help with this time?”

“[L/N] don’t listen, go back to sleep, beloved.” Damian moved in from behind, learning from Dick’s mistake and instead using his blade to warn [Brother’s Name].

But if anything, that made the man more excited to annoy the “demonspawn”.

“Oh, mooncake you can’t believe who I stumbled upon today! Smile for the camera why don’t you?”

[Brother’s Name] flipped the terminal to show your face.

“You’re . . . General [Y/—“

And then flipped it back, showing his injured body. “He hurt me real bad. Look.”

Your face does not move nor your voice waver,

“Come back to the base.”

“No.” Black Canary, Dinah, slammed her hands on the table. She couldn’t believe this. It was already bad that they allowed you to be involved in their line of work, now they were letting you come face to face with a being that almost wiped an entire team of experience fighters? What were they thinking?

“That . . . thing is dangerous. We cannot allow this to continue!” Arthur concurred. He saw the state of your brother. A civilian like you had no business with something so dangerous.

“Unfortunately I have to say no to your refusal as well.” You calmly responded, “This situation is under the jurisdiction of the Fleet. It is only right that Daybreak and I deal with it.”

“Father you can’t possibly allow them.” Damian gripped your shoulder as he pleaded with Bruce. He had known you the longest next to Tim. You were barely able to hold your own as a normal student. Not that he was looking down on you, but if you couldn’t even fight for yourself in conversation, how could he let you be around that monster?

Bruce closed his eyes in deep contemplation. He studied your kind comprehensively. He did so for every vigilante and villain alike (Contingencies were his specialty) From how your magic system worked, to how society and customs were like. A lot of his knowledge came from Clark, who had also done his fair share of investigative work into your background.

He of all people in this line of work knew how dangerous you and [Brother’s Name] can be. He had done his calculations based off of what Daybreak could do. But curiosity drove him further.

“Fine.”

“Father!”

“But the whole league will be watching you, alongside the Young Justice and Teen Titans.”

“Sheesh, overkill much?” Daybreak, now plain [Brother’s Name] in a bunch of casts, piped up.

You nodded, quite honestly just aching to get out from this stuffy room already. “That is fine.”

Before you left, you head swiveled to take one last look at your sibling, building up whatever emotions you needed to see the job through, “Get some rest, brother.”

“Are you kidding? I gotta watch this.” Your brother laughed in earnest, almost-too-wholesome-for-him manner. You managed to understand why as his eyes scanned the people in the room.

He wanted to see them react to your true nature.

Your form finally disappeared from his sight as his eyes finally settled on another image of you glued atop a folder. “What are those?” He pouts to gesture at the objects, too injured to move his limbs.

“Files on [Y/N] and the being.” Bruce answered, opening up the screens for the cameras to the interrogation room.

[Brother’s Name] knows you’d give him a sermon for using his powers while he was already banged up but he had no choice. His arms were too broken to open up the folder after all. “You guys work quick.” He commented as the papers levitated and flipped through itself.

His eyes scanned the typewritten document swiftly, smile growing by the moment, “Pffft — kind hearted soul? Who wrote this?”

“It was compiled by me, but our sources vary from vigilante to civilians.” Clark mumbled. As one of the only other aliens, and people who could feel aetherial arbor. He felt your presence, your anger leaking earlier. It was heavy, as if the world was suddenly placed upon his shoulders. Yet he felt no fear for his own safety, only yours.

The gigantic door before you slid open revealing the enemy the vigilantes struggled to subdue earlier.

The soldier stood upright, sensing your presence. The rumors were true it would seem. Many wouldn’t be able to spot it, a testament to whatever you did to conceal your prowess, but they immediately recognized the magnitude of your ardor practically oozing around you.

He was expecting your anger. He knew of your protective nature towards your brother.

“My apologies.” But you didn’t. Instead you began nursing their injuries, repairing their armor, and even initiating casual conversation. “It must have been a long journey. I can’t help but resent whoever sent you here.”

“Your Excellency! I came of my own volition.”

“Oh? But judging from your armor you must be one of the knights.”

“Yes, 512th Squadron of the Imperial Army.”

“Of course, my eldest brother’s . . . “ Your fought to keep your hands from clenching. A gentle smile on your features remained unshaken even by the sudden revelation.

“Y-yes, your Excellency. It took many jumps for me to get here on my own.”

“Alone? What did you wish to come here for?”

“I-I wished to meet you but those Earthlings wouldn’t let me.”

“Mm. And so you fought them. As is right for one of our kind.” You brought out a handkerchief and wiped down your hands after finishing the task at hand. Then you took a seat in front of them.

“You understand! Of course.”

“Actually I came here to bid you to return. The Emperor misses you dearly and wishes to see you.”

“Do you know why he does?”

“N-no?”

You looked down. Voice soft, relaxed shoulders, a solemn tone, and a tremble to add on top. “My brother. He wishes to have a child with me. To use my powers in the form of a future heir to the throne.”

“I am not quite ready to have a child yet.” Nor were you interested with being a babymaker for that tyrant. But that wasn’t an appropriate excuse in the grand scheme of things.

“I understand! Your Excellency is quite young and even then, you have saved countless of lives. You deserve only to do as wish and nothing less.” The soldier slammed the floor in front of it. “Besides, his Majesty had already taken so many concubines I’m sure an heir wouldn’t be needed anytime soon.”

You nodded. A moment or two of silence for your mind to recollect everything that has been said before you execute what you came here for in the first place. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “How incompetent must the new Imperial General be at the moment?”

“Pardon?”

“Information is the most valuable asset to any sort of battle. As a general I kept a tight leash on it. Lest it spilled and caused unnecessary ruckus.” My knights were drilled, put through fire and blood, wiped clean before they were thrown back into hell again. And most importantly they were taught to sew their mouth shut or die. You, you just spilled everything I needed to know the moment I showed that I cared.”

“Your Excellency, I —“

“I was only going to punish you for trespassing. A measly act of destroying your Aetherial Helix.” “But in all honesty, I might be doing that brother Emperor of mine a favor by going . . . further.”

“N-no, you wouldn’t, you’re—!” The soldier was about to defend you even in its dying moments. But as it truly recounted all that has been told about you from its peers and seniors, it realizes one truly fatal fact.

You were never known for benevolence.

“Please! I did this all for you! I only wanted you back as my General!”

“Let this be a lesson.”

“No, please ! I- I - I beg of you—“

You looked up to the ceiling, beyond it — the stars and the infinite darkness you once called your home.

“And so I’ll continue to wield your blade, until I cut the stars from sky. I will protect you even from the gods I serve.”

You chant. The blood on your hands once again becoming too visible and distracting.

“Thank you for your service, soldier.” You deeply bow your head to the disintegrating corpse beneath you. Allowing the fallen's drained life essence to cover your forehead. [Brother Name] smiles. To others it may seem to have been a sign of respect — but to your kind, you were simply absorbing the spoils of battle. Taking in the dead and disgraced's remaining imprint on this world.

“My deepest apologies for the mess and time it took. The matter has been dealt with.” You returned. The blood, having dripped down your face, had dried and turned dark.

“I hope this has not soured your view on me.”

“Not at all . . .” Tim was the first to speak at your return. His fingers unconsciously replaying the footage of your . . . execution. Millions of questions already shot across his head as he was eager to probe you on them one way or another.

If anything it only made their obsession with you worse.

“Let me be your sinner, brother. This oath I shall never forsake.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere scenario #tw yandere #yandere batfam #yandere concept #yandere dc x reader #yandere teen titans #yandere young justice #batfam x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere various dc x reader

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glamourscat · 12 days ago

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Omg I loved your Tim headcanons??? Can I request Tim crush headcanons. Just anything about Tim having a crush on the reader and how he will try to flirt with them

a/n: i have already done a more general hcs w all of the bats + bruce and how they act when they have crushes (you can find it here)

i wanted to explore more of tim's, so here's me yapping some more lol :') thank you for the request, i hope it's what you were looking for <3

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He is not the best at handling his emotions, we have seen that in different cases. He is headstrong when needed, with a drive and a passion that's almost scary. Because you see this lean guy, 5ft7 on a good day, who's absolutely unhinged doing the most random things on a Tuesday morning and you are just there thinking "how is he not a danger to society?" (someone pls tell me you get the reference lmao)

Still, when having a crush his passionate, unhinged and almost erratic behaviour doesn't go away. If anything, it mutates between a mix of awkwardness, cuteness and nerdiness. An intriguing mix of nervousness, sweetness, and the occasional awkwardness.

As someone who is naturally observant and analytical, he might be cautious and deliberate in his approach, trying to gauge how the person feels before making any moves.

He would for sure be the type of person to do nice, kind gestures in really subtle ways. It's all about showing how much he cares but under the radar at first.

From helping you on cases, if you're a vigilante. Patrolling together or going to missions together. Bringing your favourite snacks or even accompany you somewhere. The thing is, if you're Tim's crush, you're also his best friend-- or at least, a really close friend. So, all of these acts would almost feel natural, if not normal.

Now my fav, the ✦ Awkward Flirting ✦

He is so awkward that you get second hand embarrassment. He might try to make a joke or even a little comment, but it comes out a bit too nerdy or forced because he is trying so hard to the point it's not even more him:

“So, did you know that if you’re ever stuck in an elevator, you should press the emergency button and NOT just wait around like most people do?” (awkward pause) “Not that you’d ever get stuck, I mean. I just thought it might be... helpful.”

BLUSHING. Oh 100%. Tim’s blush is immediately visible when he's around his crush. It might happen when you say something kind, when his attention lingers on you too long, or when you smile at him.

He’s the type who will fumble with his words, maybe try to play it cool by pretending he’s focusing on whatever he was doing.

I have said it before too, but he will over analyze and overthink like crazy. Every interaction with you becomes a ground to investigate. "Wait-- they smiled at me more than usual today" our delusional king <3

someone will definitely notice. I have the feeling Jason would be the first. Would he help? absolutely no. he would tease tim. which will prompt him to go to steph or barbs BUT only if he is truly desperate. Like, he has reached a point where he is staring at the ceiling at night unable to sleep because he keeps overthinking and so he pushes himself to ask for help. it might backfire on him, it might not. but who knows right?

Indirect Compliments are also a big thing. He might not say "hey I like you" straight to your face, but he will send signals. He’d throw out little compliments disguised as casual observations.

He is just a spontaneous dork. He has that nerdy rizz, if you know, you know.

“look, it's us” (cue cutting to him showing you a tiktok of two cats cuddles snuggling)

which on the matter of TikTok, he will SPAM you with stuff. Memes, tiktoks everything. Daily random selfies or random texts after patrol in the early hours of the morning.

Lastly, his body language is a dead give away too. And would betray him so badly. He might lean in a bit when you’re talking, keep his gaze on you for just a little too long, or even get a little fidgety when you're near. He’d try not to be too obvious, but you'd catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, only for him to quickly look away blushing when your eyes meet. (should I do a oneshot about this? let me know)

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eclipsedrgn · 3 months ago

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𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝑨 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕

jason's girlfriend isn't the most normal girl, but jason doesn't know that.

jason todd x fem!reader

Jason Todd trudged up the stairs to his apartment, exhaustion weighing down every step. His body ached from the most recent mission—a particularly grueling one with Gotham’s more insane criminals. All he wanted right now was to collapse into bed, wrap his arms around you, and forget about the world for a few hours. For three years, you'd been his solace, the steady normalcy in his chaotic life. While the rest of the world knew him as the Red Hood—a vigilante who skirted the line between hero and anti-hero—you only knew him as Jason, the guy who loved shitty action movies and long conversations over coffee.

Hell, Jason loved that you had nothing to do with his other life. You were just a regular junior middle school teacher, living your life with your students and lesson plans. He loved your innocence to the madness that surrounded Gotham, the way you’d roll your eyes at news reports about the Joker or some other whack job as if it were just another Tuesday.

But tonight… something was wrong.

The moment he stepped into the hallway leading to his apartment, his stomach twisted. The door was cracked open. Jason’s pulse spiked as he instinctively reached for the gun tucked in the back of his jeans, cursing under his breath.

No. No, no, no.

He rushed forward, shoving the door open and stepping into the chaos that greeted him. His once neat apartment was trashed—furniture overturned, picture frames shattered on the floor, and the unmistakable signs of a struggle smeared across the room. His breath came in sharp, shallow gasps as his eyes darted from the destroyed living room to the kitchen, then to the hallway that led to the bedroom.

“Babe?!” Jason’s voice cracked with panic. “(Y/N)!”

No response. The apartment was eerily quiet, and with every passing second, dread wrapped its icy fingers around his heart, squeezing tighter and tighter. Jason sprinted through the rooms, kicking open doors, ripping open closets—anything to find you. But there was nothing.

You were gone.

“Fuck!” Jason shouted, his voice raw as he slammed his fist into the nearest wall, cracking the drywall. His hands trembled as he fumbled for his phone, immediately dialing the Batcave. His mind was racing, screaming at him with every worst-case scenario imaginable. You were a civilian. You had no part in this life. Who the fuck would take you?

The line clicked, and Barbara’s voice came through, steady as ever. “Jason?”

“It’s (Y/N),” Jason growled, pacing through the wreckage of the apartment. “She’s gone. Someone—” He sucked in a breath, his throat tightening. “Someone fucking took her.”

The other end of the line went silent for a second, the weight of his words sinking in. “Hold on, I’m on it. I’ll run a trace through the city surveillance cameras.”

Jason’s heart was hammering in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead as he waited for Barbara to work her magic. Every second felt like an eternity. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. You were his goddamn light, the one thing keeping him tethered to any sense of normalcy. If something happened to you…

“Got something,” Barbara’s voice broke through the haze of panic. “I traced some suspicious movement to an abandoned warehouse on the east side. Jason… it’s the Joker.”

Jason’s blood turned to ice. The Joker. The one son of a bitch who could turn his rage into something uncontrollable. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he grabbed his Red Hood helmet from the nearby table, his grip tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

"Jason, I'll call in for back up-"

“I’m heading there now,” Jason muttered, not waiting for a response before hanging up the phone. He didn’t give a shit about protocol or backup right now. All that mattered was getting you back. He strapped on his gear, eyes flashing with barely contained fury. If the Joker had laid one fucking hand on you…

The Red Hood was out for blood tonight.

At the warehouse, the Joker was having the time of his life. His cackles echoed through the dilapidated space, the sound piercing through the otherwise dead silence. He paced around you, your wrists tied to a metal chair, your face expressionless despite the absolute madness surrounding you.

You looked… bored.

“Ahhhh, I must say,” the Joker drawled, waving his arms theatrically, “I didn’t expect this from Red Hood’s girlfriend. I thought you’d be more of a screamer!” He leaned in close, his painted face only inches from yours, eyes glinting with glee. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Afraid? No? Don’t worry, I’m sure ol’ Jaybird will be along soon to pick up the pieces.”

You gave him a deadpan look, not even flinching at the proximity. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be scary, you talk a lot.”

The Joker’s smile faltered for a split second before he threw his head back and laughed, the sound grating on your nerves. “Oh, ho ho! I like this one! You’ve got guts, sweetheart.” He stood up straight, pacing around you with exaggerated steps. “But let’s see how tough you are when your boyfriend walks into my little trap and finds his precious little girlfriend all broken and—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you cut him off, rolling your eyes. “We get it. You want to lure Jason here so you can try to fuck with him. Very original.”

What the Joker didn’t know—and what Jason didn’t know—was that you were far from defenseless. Hell, you weren’t even normal. You were Ben Tennyson’s twin sister, for fuck’s sake. You had seen your fair share of chaos, even if you hadn’t used the Omnitrix much since settling down in Gotham. It had been nice living a normal life, blending in as just another person for a change. You didn’t want to be a hero. Not anymore. But now?

Now, you were starting to reconsider. You watched as the Joker continued to monologue about his grand plans, your eyes flicking down to the Omnitrix still hidden beneath your sleeve. You could break free of these bindings any second, but you wanted to see how things played out first. After all, you didn’t know how Jason would react to seeing you transform.

And, well… it might be fun to surprise him.

The warehouse door crashed open, and there he was—the Red Hood, guns blazing, eyes burning with fury beneath his helmet. The Joker’s laughter reached a fever pitch as Jason stormed inside, his focus immediately snapping to you.

But Jason stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you, tied to the chair but seemingly unharmed. His helmet tilted ever so slightly, confusion evident even through the mask.

“Jaybird!” the Joker taunted, spreading his arms wide. “Look at you! All fired up! Oh, this is going to be so much fun—”

“Shut the fuck up, clown,” Jason growled, his voice venomous. His gun was trained directly on the Joker’s head, but the Joker’s words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except getting to you.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, his voice strained as he took a cautious step toward you.

You smirked. “I’m fine. But… you might want to stand back.”

Jason frowned beneath the helmet. “What?”

Before he could react, you slammed your palm onto the Omnitrix, the familiar green glow filling the dimly lit warehouse. Jason’s eyes widened in shock as your form shifted, your body morphing into one of your alien transformations. This time, you chose something flashy—a pink-hued version of the same form Ben used, almost as if you were showing off.

Feedback.

Jason’s gun lowered, his body frozen in disbelief. “What the…?”

You stood tall, your alien form towering over both Jason and the Joker. “Surprise, babe,” you said with a cheeky grin, your voice slightly distorted by the transformation.

The Joker’s laughter died in his throat as he stared up at you, momentarily stunned by the sudden shift in power dynamics. “What the fuck—”

You didn’t give him time to finish. With a quick flick of your wrist, you sent the Joker flying with electricity into a pile of crates, knocking him unconscious in one swift motion. The entire thing was over in seconds.

When the dust settled, you turned to Jason, who still hadn’t moved. His helmeted gaze remained locked on you, processing the situation.

“Well,” you said, reverting to your human form, brushing your hair back as if nothing had happened. “That was fun.”

Jason blinked. “You… you’re…”

“Yeah,” you shrugged, walking over to untie the ropes that had been holding you. “Guess the secret’s out. I’ve got an Omnitrix, like Ben.”

Jason stared at you, his mouth slightly open, the shock still painted across his face. “You’re a fucking alien?”

You laughed, finally untying yourself. “Sometimes. Not all the time.” You looked up at him, giving him a soft smile. “You okay?”

Jason let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “Baby... you could’ve told me, you know.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Jason huffed, finally letting his guard down as he pulled you into his chest, burying his face in your hair. “You scared the shit out of me, baby... fuck” he mumbled.

“I know,” you whispered, holding him tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Jason hadn’t let go of you since the moment you’d wrapped your arms around him. His body was still tense, his grip on you tight as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. The Joker was knocked out cold, but even that didn’t seem to ease the strain in Jason’s posture. It wasn’t until the both of you stepped outside, leaving the warehouse and the wreckage of the night behind, that he finally spoke.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Jason whispered, his voice thick with guilt as he buried his face in your hair again. His hands rested on your back, fingers trembling slightly. “I never should’ve let this happen. You got kidnapped because of me… because of Red Hood.”

You could hear the raw pain in his voice, and your heart ached for him. He was carrying the weight of this on his shoulders, blaming himself for what had happened, even though you knew it wasn’t his fault. The Joker would have found any way to get to him, and it just so happened that tonight, you were his target. But Jason couldn’t see it that way. He saw this as a failure—a failure to protect you, the person he cared about most.

You tilted your head up slightly, placing a soft kiss on his jawline. “Jason, it’s not your fault,” you murmured against his skin. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“But—” he started, his breath hitching.

You cut him off by peppering kisses along his jaw, then his cheek, then up toward his temple, each kiss soft and reassuring. “It’s not your fault, baby” you repeated between kisses, your tone firmer this time. “I don’t blame you. Not for a second.”

Jason let out a shaky breath, his grip loosening slightly as his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you even closer. “You should blame me,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours. “Red Hood put a target on your back. I put a target on your back.”

You cupped his face gently, forcing him to look at you, your gaze locking onto his. “I love you, Jason Todd. And I love you whether you’re Red Hood, or just Jason. You didn’t put a target on me. The Joker did. And trust me, if he tries something like this again…” You gave him a mischievous smile. “I’ll make sure to kick his ass before you even get there.”

Jason snorted despite himself, shaking his head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Damn right I am,” you teased, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “Now let’s get out of here before someone wakes up.” You glanced back at the warehouse where the Joker lay unconscious, your lip curling in disgust. “I really don’t want to hear him laughing again.”

Jason chuckled softly, pulling you toward the motorcycle parked nearby. “Yeah, I think we’ve heard enough for one night.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The ride to the Batcave was quiet, the wind whipping past you as you clung to Jason, your body pressed against his as the city blurred around you. You could feel the tension slowly easing from his frame the closer you got to the safety of the cave, though you knew it wasn’t gone entirely. Jason was good at hiding his emotions, but tonight had rattled him more than he was willing to admit.

When the Batcave finally came into view, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. As much as you’d brushed off the danger earlier, it was nice to know that you were heading somewhere safe—somewhere with people who had your back.

The moment you stepped off the bike, you were practically tackled by Barbara. She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tightly as if she couldn’t believe you were standing in front of her.

“Oh my God, (Y/N),” she breathed, pulling back just enough to look you over. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

You gave her a reassuring smile, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Babs. Really. Just a few scratches.”

Barbara didn’t look entirely convinced, but she nodded anyway, her grip on your arms still firm. “You scared the hell out of us.”

Jason stepped up beside you, his hand resting on your back as he gave Barbara a small nod. “She’s tough. Joker didn’t stand a chance.”

Barbara’s eyes flicked between the two of you, her expression softening slightly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Before you could say anything else, Alfred appeared, ever the calm and collected presence amidst the chaos. His sharp gaze took in your disheveled appearance, the cuts and bruises scattered across your skin, and he immediately ushered you toward the medical bay with that no-nonsense look in his eyes.

“Miss (Y/N), if you would kindly sit down, I’ll make sure those wounds are properly cleaned and treated,” Alfred said, his tone gentle but firm.

You followed without protest, exhaustion creeping in now that the adrenaline from the night had worn off. You settled onto the medical table, letting Alfred work his magic as he carefully cleaned the cuts and scrapes littering your arms. Jason stood nearby, his arms crossed over his chest, watching quietly as Alfred tended to you.

Once Alfred had finished, you glanced over at Jason, who was still looking at you with a mixture of concern and something else—something unreadable. You knew what he was thinking. You could practically feel the questions swirling in his mind, the confusion about what he’d seen tonight.

“You probably have a lot of questions,” you said softly, meeting his gaze.

Jason’s eyes flicked to yours, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah. You could say that.”

You took a deep breath, glancing down at the Omnitrix still attached to your wrist. “So… you remember Ben?”

Jason nodded slowly, his expression guarded.

“Well… I guess I should’ve told you this sooner, but I’m actually Ben’s twin sister,” you said, your voice steady despite the weight of your words. “And I’ve got an Omnitrix too. It’s just like his, but I don’t use it as much anymore. I… I wanted a normal life. So I kept it hidden.”

Jason’s eyes widened slightly, but he stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.

“The Omnitrix is this device that allows us to transform into different alien species,” you explained. “Ben’s been using his for years to fight off intergalactic threats, and I used to help him. But after a while, I got tired of all the fighting. I wanted something different. So I came to Gotham, started teaching… and I guess I just never thought I’d have to use it again.”

Jason’s jaw clenched as he processed your words. “You didn’t think to tell me this… in the three years we’ve been together?”

You winced slightly, knowing you deserved that. “I know. I should’ve told you. But… I liked that you saw me as just me, you know? I didn’t want the Omnitrix to be a part of our relationship. I wanted us to be… normal.”

Jason’s gaze softened slightly, though the frustration still lingered. “We’re not normal, (Y/N). Not in this city. Not in my life.”

“I know that now,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “And I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you.”

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You could’ve been hurt tonight. Or worse. I should’ve known about this so I could protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me, Jason,” you said gently. “But I get it. I know you want to. And I’m sorry I kept this from you.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching yours before he finally spoke again. “So… what does this mean? You’re going to keep using it?”

You shrugged, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know. Maybe. Depends on the situation. I mean, you have to admit, it was kind of fun surprising you tonight.”

Jason huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well… next time, give me a little heads-up, okay?”

You grinned, leaning forward to kiss him softly. “Deal.”

Jason kissed you back, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. For now, the questions could wait. Right now, all that mattered was that you were safe, and you were together.

And no matter what the future held, you knew you’d face it side by side.

#batman #batfam x reader #crossover #ben10

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blughxreader · 1 year ago

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Do you think escape for batsis is in the realm of possibility if she pretended long enough? I’m talking like 5-10 years of playing the long game. Enough time to gain everyone’s trust, and maybe she even grows to like them too, but still wanting her freedom back, would she possibly be able to escape the manor with enough time and ingenuity?

... Trips outside with Platonic Yandere Batfam... HC

Honestly, I doubt you could escape. Between the chip they secretly planted in your leg upon your kidnapping, the hidden agents that trail you on your outings, and the Bat's propensity to have their eyes on you at all times... it's unlikely.

But if you convince them you love them and if they're comfortable with their security system, you can finagle your way into a cozy little adventure outside!

In the beginning, after a year or two of living at the Wayne Manor and warming up to the Bats, they would consider letting you leave the house. At first it's only to private islands during carefully scheduled vacation times.

Luxury villas, private chefs, un-disrupted skylines, new books / notepads / art supplies so you can capture the moment (and so they can frame it)... It's pretty sweet actually, especially if you've ever had an "old money aesthetic" Pinterest board.

Just you, a charcuterie board of aged meats and cheeses, and Dick's leg against yours because he insists on touching you... and Tim's camera shuttering every 4 minutes... and Damian's loud insistence on having your eyes on him... and and and

After a few years, if they feel like you genuinely love them and are happy then you can convince them to let you go out! Just allow 1-3 business days for preparation.

(Also: trips outside are also an excellent bargaining chip for rights with you. Tim's "Sleep in my bed for a 10 consecutive (preferable) or nonconsecutive days this month and we can get boba and browse a bookstore" vs Damian's "If you tell Jason he's fourth favorite, I will ask father to rent out Gotham Museum for the evening so we can view the new post-impressionism exhibition" (I.E. he wants to go SO BAD but is afraid of rejection))

Jason and Damian are the easiest to convince. Just offer them an in-depth discussion on a book you two read together or a drawing/reading date, and they'll call all necessary contacts that second.

Dick and Bruce are like, "hn. but there's plenty of things to do at home."

If you begged, Dick would fold faster. Like, "Fiiiine. But only if we can rent the venue and go in disguise." Because he's not mentally prepared for paparazzi to think you two are dating.

Bruce, on the other hand, has three sleepless nights leading up to the outing and insists you hold onto him without fail the entire time.

He's most likely to rent out the rooftop of a restaurant and hire a famous ensemble. The Batkids are invited sometimes, but these trips are mostly for you and him to make some memories. Tim, Steph, and Duke 100% will pretend to be waiters. Dick disguises himself as the pianist and fumbles through the first few songs before he's invited to eat with you two.

Last but not least, Timmy. Hardest to convince but you can also get some unique, crowded locations out of him. However, because it's crowded he will handcuff you two together. Sorry, not sorry.

It might be fun going to a gaming arcade and playing a single player game with each of your hand's though. He might also introduce you to his friends as well! Game nights with them are always exciting.

for more yandere batfam, visit my masterlist!

#yandere batfam #platonic yandere #platonic yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere batfamily #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere batman #yandere bruce wayne #yandere headcanons #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines

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aingeal98 · 1 year ago

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I think there's a misconception among some fans who mostly get their characterisation from ao3, that the reason Cass and Jason wouldn't get along is that Jason kills people and Cass hates murderers. And like. You're 50% right but the key context being ignored is that Cass would literally fight to defend the right of a serial killer to live and change like she believes desperately in second chances no matter how far gone the killer is. She'll knock a man out and break his hand so that he can never shoot and kill someone again but if she sees someone feel bad about their kill or even like. Hesitate to hurt a child. She is all over that like she will fight the world just to save this one kind of shitty assassin and give them a second chance at life where they can do better.

Whereas Jason believes that sometimes there are bad people that are simply too far gone, too much of a force of evil hurting and draining actual innocents. And the best way to deal with scumbags like that is a bullet. He feels that some people don't deserve to live, and he's comfortable ending their lives. Judge, jury and executioner. Because no one else is going to kill these people and they deserve to die so that they can never hurt any victims again.

Of course all of this is kind of irrelevant in current canon since dc basically skipped over the reconciliation and development and went yeah Jason is a batfam member and he doesn't kill anymore. So currently in canon none of this conflict of ideals is likely to be addressed. But a lot of people are interested in writing fics that actually detail the steps of reconciliation which is great and I love those fics. I've just also noticed a trend of fumbling a little when it comes to Cass.

Because the root cause as to why they wouldn't get along is not just because Jason kills people. If Jason was a random crime lord Cass would probably try to help him get free of Gotham and start over somewhere else. Killing people and having conflicting emotions about it is the easiest way to get Cass willing to be your number one sponsor at murderer rehabilitation anonymous. It's Jason being someone personal to the family, and someone who believes that some deaths need to happen, as long as the person is sufficiently repulsive enough to Jason. Or even just as a means to an end to prove a larger point, if they're pathetic and evil enough. That's what would make Cass see red, because she projects herself on every single killer and Jason dismissing the possibility of redemption for them, writing them off as deserving of death, clashes fundamentally with not just everything Cass believes in, but also her whole sense of self. Of course it's not that deep for Jason like he's not going to believe Cass should die because she killed someone as a child. But for Cass is simply IS that deep and you throw in the fact that they're both Bruce's kids and yeah. They can maybe be civil in a room together with the family right up until one of them actually talks. Because like 99% of what they could say is guaranteed to touch a nerve for the other.

It's like: Damian says something hilarious and rude towards Jason and Jason jokes about that time he shot him and Cass immediately connects that with him not feeling bad about shooting Damian and starts grilling him as to why. Because Damian's Bruce's son? Or because he's a killer? Or just to get to the rest of the family? And Dick, Duke and Tim are so tired like Alfred cooked a nice meal can we all just eat pie for one night without having to listen to you two go at it.

Tim: I've literally shot you before do you think maybe we can cool it on fighting about Jason's personal ethics tonight. Because generally that ends with me in pain even if I do nothing but sit here.

Cass: You shot me with consent. Different.

Jason: How are you even more obnoxious than Bruce? Do you ever get tired of being so exhausting to be around with your bullshit righteousness?

Cass: If you're tired I can knock you out. Nice nap for you and fun for me.

Dick: And that's ten minutes in a room together before any threats of physical harm start flying around! Great job you two, a new personal record.

#dc #cassandra cain #batfam #dc rambles #jason todd #Ironically enough if Jason didn't focus on killing “bad” people #And instead was just a regular murderer with no greater point except Yeah I need this person to die as a means to an end #Cass is way more likely to look at him and go: Oh hell yes personal improvement project right here #Going up to Bruce like trust me dad he feels bad about killing that guy I saw his hand hesitate for 0.5 seconds before pulling the trigger #Whereas if Jason is like I'm killing this guy to prove a Point. The world is better off without him in it #Cass sees red like congratulations you triggered a solid 70 of her trauma buttons. Hope you like broken bones.

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luvrodite · 1 year ago

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OCTOBER 31ST: I HUNT FOR YOU WITH BLOODIED FEET ACROSS THE HALLOWED GROUND JASON TODD

kinktober prompt: monsterfucking | kinktober masterlist

synopsis.your lover's got a secret. you'd never imagine you would find yourself running through central park for it.

cw: f!reader, monsterfucking, predator/prey, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, piv sex, creampie, minor dubcon, rough sex, established relationship, aftercare, slight bratty reader minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact you will be blocked

It doesn’t start out this way.

Crashing through the thick of trees on Halloween night in a pair of flimsy shoes that were definitely not made for running, getting scratched up by the whip of tree branches and near stumbling over overgrown roots wasn’t something you’d foreseen when you were dressing for this date.

You can feel your heart in your throat, nausea swirling in your gut as you fumble your way through the woods of Central Park, moonlight thin and whispery through the dense foliage, the trees packed closely together to prevent much getting in–or getting out, you think darkly.

Your feet slam clumsily into the dirt, and another lance of pain blooms across your arm as your push past thin branches. Your eyes have adjusted somewhat, but the eerie ghostland is dense and gnarled trees and twisted branches alike reach out to snag on your clothing. They scrape along your arms and legs, and you grit your teeth with every bite, the promise of what is waiting spurring you on.

Behind you sounds crashing footsteps not far behind and you hold back a whimper when you hear the snap of jaws. You can see the slobbery maw in your mind, a row of gleaming white teeth, canines sharp enough to tear you into two.

The thick grove gives way suddenly, emptying into a clearing and you stumble into the center. The moonlight pours unrelentingly over you, silver wrapping around you in a mockery of a lover’s embrace–you do not feel safe, but exposed and bare. You feel desperate as you step further into the glade, pine rustling beneath your feet. The air has suddenly grown very still, and you can no longer hear the heavy steps of your pursuer. You track the treeline, eyes straining peering into the darkness. Only shadowy outlines, ever shifting and curling, peer back.

Seconds pass. Not a bird’s call, or the snap of a twig reach your ears. Only your heart, thundering in its cage. You turn on your heel, circling as you try to determine which direction to go.

And then–there. Opposite the direction you had come from (how had he gotten there so fast?) twin rings of green peer at you through the black, flashing red for the briefest moment. You freeze, staggering back and willing your legs to move faster. They carry you right back where you entered, bursting back into the dark and blinding you momentarily once more.

It is a mistake.

You round a tree and before your foot has landed behind you, large, claw tipped hands are circling around you. Your scream rings into the trees and you struggle in vain against the large body that topples you to the ground.

A mouth presses to your jaw, teeth scraping against the skin, and in your ear a voice growls,

“Caught you.”

An assortment of colourful flowers greet you when you open your apartment door, and you look from them to the face behind them, gasping delightedly.

“Are these for me?”

“Hello to you, too, sweetheart,” Jason mutters wryly, but the smile on his face is fond and you move back to let him inside, accepting the bouquet happily. “Yes, these are for you.”

You coo, pressing your nose to the petals and delighting in the silk soft feel, breathing in.

“Jason, they’re gorgeous. Thank you.” Adjusting them in your arm, you lean up to kiss his jaw affectionately. You trace the bloom of red on his face with a smile, and look back down to the flowers. “What’s the occasion?”

“There’s gotta be an occasion?” he jokes and you roll your eyes, moving further into the apartment to find a vase. He follows on your heels into the kitchen, opening the cabinet for you and retrieving the pretty glass blue vase you’re so fond of as he explains. “I wanted to say sorry. I know I’ve not been around as much lately–”

Ah.

You had only been seeing Jason for a few months now. Enough to have grown fond of him, and miss him in the moments in between, but not very long in the grand scheme of things.

To his credit, Jason was wonderful. He opened doors and pulled out chairs. He’d even offered you his jacket when you’d been unprepared for the weather, and in such a gallant display that you’d wondered who exactly had raised him. He did all the right things, and unthinkingly.

It was unexpected, the gentleness with which he handled you. It was always sweet presses of his mouth to yours, unassuming and chaste, the careful intertwining of fingers or an arm around your waist in a busy crowd. Never harsh, never obtrusive or demanding. It had been shocking in the beginning, that such a powerfully built man–all hard lines, strong muscle ad scar-flecked–should be so… docile.

You felt rather as though you’d gained an tamed doberman. Walking down the street with him, you received no shortage of looks, wary and otherwise. You didn’t know how to explain to the curious passersby that your boyfriend couldn’t hurt a fly. The most aggression you’d ever seen him express had been against a stubborn vegetable that evaded his fork, for crying out loud.

But…

Sometimes, and only sometimes, you swore there was something in his eyes. It had always felt like a trick of the light, looking over to your boyfriend in the middle of something only to find him watching you already, lips parted and something eerily like hunger in his eyes. It was there one moment, and gone the next, expression relaxing into a familiar affectionate grin.

The only problem you really had was the disappearances.

You weren’t a clingy girlfriend. You weren’t. Perhaps, occasionally, you sought out Jason’s company more, but you felt fairly comfortable in your assessment that you were (mostly) well adjusted enough to not mind being around him all the time.

But every month, for a few days, he would become totally unreachable. You would be hard pressed to receive even a text from him, let alone a phone call or visit. The first time it had happened was in the beginning stages of your relationship, when things were sparkly new and still tentative, so you’d brushed it off as him not wanting to seem too overeager.

And he’d seemed so sorry about it, looking so worn when he’d shown up at your door to explain. Work, he’d cited, and you’d believed it. Why wouldn’t you? He had looked exhausted, weary and in much need of some deep rest. You’d let him in easily enough. You remember the way he’d curled his body around you that night, deep in sleep and refusing to let you go.

And then it happened again. And then again.

Your friends had suspected infidelity. Maybe he has a wife, one had said jokingly but you’d shaken your head despite the drop of your stomach, guilt curdling at the image of some poor woman sleeping peacefully while her husband–no, it had to be something else.

It had to be.

Jason who in the time you’d known him, had never so much as looked at anyone else. Who’d shown up to your apartment with soup and changed the sheets when you’d fallen sick last month. Jason who held you like you were the thing most precious to him.

There was a secret. This was for sure, but you couldn’t imagine it to be a wife, or partner otherwise. What else could leave him out of commission and exhausted for a couple days every month?

What else had contributed to the collection of scars?

“–and I know I’m here but I thought I wouldn’t be able to make it tonight, either and I know you were really looking forward to it–I was too! I don’t know, I just wanted to make it up to you.” He rambles uncertainly, teal eyes scanning yours carefully for a reaction.

You stare up at him. Late spring and Jason looks as though he’s returned from the deep midwinter. You can see the lines around his eyes, shadows smudged beneath rings of teal and his handsome face is slightly pale.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” you ask, gently, instead of answering his question. You raise a hand to cradle his cheek and he leans into the touch, eyes slipping closed with a sigh. “You look a bit tired.”

The flowers in your arms rustle as you move them to the vase, ferns swaying with the movement. There are creases in the brown paper when you pull it away, placing the stems carefully into the water, one by one. Next to you, Jason leans against the counter.

“Just…a rough few nights,” he admits, and you nod. He scratches the back of his neck. “I haven’t really been sleeping well.”

“I’m starting to see that,” you mumble, turning to him fully. His arms flex under your hands when you place them there, wrapping around your waist in turn and pulling you closer. He drops his head onto your shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh and concern sparks in your chest. “Are you sure you’re up to going out tonight? We could stay in.”

“Nah, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your neck absently. It’s more of a brush of his lips, unthinking, and you think he might not even have meant to. “Let’s go out. Fresh air’ll do me some good. ‘Sides…”

He pulls away to look down at you, dimpling broadly. “You’re all dressed up.”

You flush at that, mumbling halfhearted protests but he’s having none of it, pressing his mouth to yours and subsequently shutting you up. You’re dazed when he pulls away, and he grins a little smugly, like a child who’s won their argument and you want to pinch him but he’s ushering you out of the door before you can.

The afternoon is balmy as you walk down the street, the approach of summer hanging in the air. You slip your arm around his and Jason showers you with an indulgent smile, one that makes your toes curl, so sweet you can taste it on your tongue.

He leads you to a cafe and you split dessert, trying to hold back your sigh when he holds out a piece of cake for you on his fork. It’s easy to feel lovesick like this, butterflies creeping in to replace the dread that had plagued you the last few days when Jason had begun to take longer and longer to reply between texts. He’s dappled in sunlight and feeding you cheesecake, and you can’t help but to lean forward and take it.

Not once does he glance at his phone during the date, lying facedown on the table beside his glass of water. You remain at the centre of his attention, teal gaze softened and syrupy as he tells you about his week, as he listens to you talk about yours.

He plies you with dessert and sneaks a kiss just to make you laugh. You look at him and think, what is it you’re keeping from me?

You hope to heaven it isn’t a wife.

The evening crawls upon the day as you’re walking through Central Park, leaning into his side as the skies above you bleed into soft pinks and blues, gold cutting through the clouds and pooling in patches of grass. You step through the rays, feeling warm in the face when Jason’s face takes on an immeasurably fond expression, fingers clutching yours.

He nudges you with his shoulder and you look up.

“You doing okay? You’re quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you offer, and looking around, you point at a grassy patch, further away from the spaces occupied by families and other lovers. “Let’s sit here.”

You run a hand over the spot before lowering yourself onto the ground, patting the spot beside you. Despite the flush of late spring, the grass is dry and without any dew. You lay down and grin when Jason remains propped on an elbow above you.

The sunlight is soft and haloes around his head, strands of amber filtering through his dark hair. He reaches out to touch your cheek with a finger and your eyelids flutter under the touch, a soft breath passing your lips when he skims underneath your eye.

“So pretty,” he murmurs and heat blooms in your face. You keep your eyes shut, bashful, but your lips twitch in an effort to contain your grin. A moment later, warmth sparks against them and you sigh once more into Jason’s mouth, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair.

You open your eyes and he’s a little blurry above you, golden and green eyed, the faintest smattering of freckles across the bridge of his broken nose. He’s close, nose pressing against yours, taking up the entire span of your vision.

“Hi,” you whisper, and his breath skitters across your cheek when he laughs.

“Hi, beauty,” he whispers back. He pulls back a little and you admire the flush on his face, pink cheeked and bright-eyed. “What’re you thinking about?”

You stare at him a moment longer, before sitting up, too. Taking his hand in yours, you turn it over to trace his palm as you gather your thoughts.

“Jason, I…” you wet your lips, a little nervous. “I wanted to ask you something.”

His eyebrows draw together in concern and he nods, free hand coming to cradle your jaw reassuringly. “Anything.”

In the distance, the sky has begun to darken further and you watch as one by one, the park lights begin to flicker on, lanterns strewn over the grassy knoll glowing orange and casting beams of light that sway with the wind’s touch.

“I don’t know how to say this,” you admit and his head tilts. “Is there…something going on with you?”

His shoulder tense almost imperceptibly and dread curdles in the pit of your stomach. Your mouth dries and against his palm, you can feel your hand beginning to tremble.

“I just feel like there’s something you’re not telling me,” you force out. A breeze rustles through the grass and over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Jason remains unmoving, eyes fixed on your face.

“What do you mean?”

You frown at him. The question sparks something in you, disbelief curling your mouth downwards. Jason stares at you quizzically, almost innocent in the wide eyed stare he gives you, but you’ve caught onto him. The muscle beneath your hand has stiffened, and his palms have grown warm.

“Jason. Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” he replies, and you scoff, pulling your hand away from him.

“Every single month, you’re gone for a few days and I can’t reach you at all. You look tired when I see you, and you say it’s just work but that’s not work-tired, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the numerous injuries you’ve been hiding from me.” You list them off, one by one, and watch the muscle in his cheek jump. “My friends think you’re cheating on me, but I don’t think that’s it, is it?”

Still he says nothing, and you laugh bitterly, climbing to your feet. Shaking your head, you mumble, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

There’s a grove of trees nearby that line the edges of the park, the path winding alongside the perimeter marking where you’d come from and you make your way there, ignoring the lump in your throat. Your dress flutters around your legs as you stomp across the grass, pressing your palms to your face in an effort to cool down.

You’ve only taken a few steps away from Jason and it gives you range to hear the hiss of breath he lets out and the rustle of clothing behind you as he calls out, “Baby, wait.”

It infuriates you how calm he manages to sound, resigned even, as though he’s decided to come clean. Unfortunately for him, you’re in no mood to hear it, only speeding up as you walk away from him.

“Sweetheart.” A hand comes around your elbow and you whirl around, almost spitting as you look up at him. He refuses to let go of you, eyes beseeching. “Hey, I’m sorry. Will you let me explain?”

“What, you’ve finally thought of an excuse?” you retort, trying again to pull away from him. He sighs.

“No. You’re right, I was keeping something from you. Will you let me tell you the truth?”

It’s curiosity that wins out, and you lift your chin haughtily, a silent command. He looks as though he’s biting back a smile at the reaction but acquiesces anyway. He looks around the both of you, hand slipping from your elbow to your waist, and you follow his gaze.

The space to your right, where you’d both sat, had been on the edges of the park and further away from the crowds that had gathered after school and work. To your left is the thick wood, dim and poorly lit under the blackening sky. Jason’s mouth twists contemplatively, and then he’s guiding you further into the trees. You stop at the treeline, a question on your lips.

“I’ll explain, I just,” he hesitates. “It’s best if nobody else hears.”

“God,” you mutter, horrified. “Did you kill someone?”

His eyes widen and he begins to shake his head. “What? No! Shit, sweetheart, I just meant–it’s a different kind of secret.”

You pause, uncertain. He waits, the warmth of his hand bleeding through the fabric of your dress. He’s nervous, you realise, gauging his expression. His mouth curves downward as he anticipates your choice. Will you stay, or will you go with him?

His eyes shine, and you’re reminded of who it is you’re talking to. A breath passes, and then you’re stepping forward.

“Fine. Explain.”

His shoulders slacken, gratitude brimming in his eyes as the two of you move further into the treeline.

“I didn’t know how to bring it up, I had to be careful,” he says, stepping over a root and offering his hand out. You take it, gathering the skirt of your dress in your other hand and crossing over it.

The forest is greyed, weak moonlight filtering in through the leaves and you brush closer to Jason when somewhere nearby you hear the flap of wings.

“Careful?” you question. “Jason, I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t wanna scare you, baby, you’ve gotta understand,” he says softly, holding your hand. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

He stops, and guides your hand to his chest. Heat pulses through his clothing, warming your palm in the chilly evening. You look up and startle when for a moment, his eyes almost seem to glow.

“What…”

“Those times you were talkin’ about, I didn’t want to ignore you, I just–I physically couldn’t, sweetheart,” he starts, contrite. A big hand comes to brush against your cheek gently. “Usually, it isn’t so bad, but the shift–”

He pauses, and you manage to get the impression that somehow through the dark he’s picked out the confusion on your face.

“Shift?” you mutter.

“Here, it’s easier if I show you,” he sighs, and then pauses, hands cradling your face firmly now. “But sweetheart, you–you have to try to stay calm, okay?”

You swallow, tipping your head in an absent nod. Shift. Just what have you gotten yourself into, now, you wonder.

You turn your head back in the direction from which you came, the light faint in the distance, just as you hear a sick, snapping sound, and all of a sudden the very air around you shifts. Your muscles lock as you look back slowly.

You have to dig your teeth into your lip harshly to stifle the whimper in your throat. The air from your lungs expels suddenly, and you feel lightheaded, swaying on the spot.

In the place you’d just seen Jason, he–it?–stands, a foot taller than your already tall boyfriend, towering over you. He’s broad, impossibly so, and your eyes having adjusted to the dim light, fall to the claw tipped hands, coarse hair covering the back of his hands and the sharp nails that curve downwards.

You raise your eyes nervously, and taste blood in your own mouth when you spot the canines, his jaw slackened to reveal a mouth full of sharp teeth, wolfish and a warning in their own right.

Luminous green eyes watch you carefully, tracking your movements. You can see the traces of your lover in his face, cheekbones covered by thick hair and most startlingly, his ears have elongated, pointed and tipped in fur.

Your lips part and try to form words but your voice fails you, trembling as you try again.

“...Jason?”

His ears perk up as if in recognition and he holds out a clawed hand, lumbering forward. You shrink back, but there is relief in your chest nonetheless that he maintains control of his faculties.

“Don’t be scared,” he rumbles and your knees weaken at the gravel in his tone, voice deeper. It’s almost comical, if not for how very real it all is.

“How long?” you whisper, shuddering. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, blood roaring with each pulse.

Powerful shoulders roll, as though shrugging. “Since I was 15.”

“You were–” Your fear is swallowed by a rush of grief, wanting to reach out but staying your hand. You think about your boyfriend at fifteen, the photos you’d caught a glimpse of, still chubby cheeked and childish, lopsided smile and unruly curls. You think of teeth and you think of blood, and your stomach drops. “You were turned?”

“Sweetheart…it was a long time ago,” he says quietly. He takes one step closer, and you let him brush against your hair, staying still as his claws stray close. “So. Is this explanation enough?”

“This is why you’ve been going ghost on me?” you mutter, tilting your head up.

“Full moon takes a few days to recover from,” he affirms, tilting his head up. You let out a miserable laugh, covering your face. “I can get a bit aggressive too–What?”

“I thought you were in a fucking gang,” you choke out through your giggles and he lets out a startled sound. You wipe your eyes, breathing out raggedly.

Taking him in now, you feel comfortable enough to step closer, hand hovering over his face. He leans down into your touch wordlessly, head bowing and you take in the warmth of his skin, thick hair covering his jaw. Your fingers brush by the corner of his mouth and you meet his eyes, questioning. Is this okay?

He stays still and you touch his lips, your own parting to mirror him. His teeth gleam and you press the pad of your thumb against the point of his canines, light enough that he doesn’t cut you, but you can feel the danger in the curve of the bones. It thrums under your skin, to be so close to something capable of killing you, to trust him not to.

Jason allows you to run your fingers along his lips and teeth, saliva gathering on the tip of your thumb and pooling in his mouth. As though in a trance, something else settles in your bones and you slip your thumb out, dragging his bottom lip. He lowers his head as you gravitate closer and in an imitation of a kiss, you brush your mouth against his. Your senses are heady, the curtain of the forest around you drawing a veil over the both of you, and you repeat the motion, tongue darting out to flick against his mouth.

He shudders, and you realise just how large he is, eclipsing your body with his own in the dark. A musky smell hangs around you, salt and pine and earth mingling with Jason’s scent and filling your lungs.

“Sweetheart, we can’t,” he rasps. At your waist, you feel the brush of talons against your thin dress and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Still, you press further into his embrace.

“Why not?”

“‘S…’s different,” he pants when you touch his chest. “Don’t wanna hurt you…might lose control.”

“I trust you,” you tell him, looking at him through your lashes and he groans, dropping his head to your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Don’t–fuck, don’t say that, sweetheart,” he pleads, a voice lowering dangerously.

“I just want to make you feel better,” you run your hand up to his neck, a few inches away from where a recently healed scar curves around him. “You were all alone, and I didn’t know. Let me make you feel good.”

He gasps, wrenching himself away and you watch his pupils expand, onyx swallowing green until only a sliver remains. His hands curl into fists, and he shudders, head dropping to take a breath before he looks up at you and gasps,

“Run.”

Jason hauls you into his arms and you scream, only for a large hand to clap over your mouth as he carries you back to the glade, moonlight pouring over the both of you. You squirm but his arms are leaden around you, tight and unforgiving. Above you is the sound of his ragged breathing and you chance a look upwards to find saliva tipped fangs, the hunger in his eyes only an amplified version of all the secret glances you’d caught before.

He lowers you both down to the ground, and you try to crawl away but are immediately wrestled back, pinned to the grass and caged in by his large form. Your dress is long past salvageable, and you can feel the earth smudge into your arms as he lowers his mouth to yours, tongue laving against your neck where your exertion has left traces of sweat. You squirm, and his hips only press further into you, a thick bulge against your stomach that has your mouth drying.

Teeth snap against your neck, dangerous and warning, and yet you find your whimpers not entirely spurred on by fear, tilting your head to bare the skin to him.

“Don’t.” The warning is issued so strictly, no room left for argument that you look back to him obediently and he snuffles at your jaw, nipping as gently as he can. Small sparks of pain bloom in his wake, and you wiggle under him.

He snarls again, and you exhale tremulously when he jostles you. “Behave.”

You bite your lip, a grin threatening to break free. Adrenaline rushes through your veins and your heart races in your ears as you lean your face up to his and whisper,

“Make me.”

A deafening silence follows in the wake of your words, not for the first time tonight, but it’s of a different kind. The air trembles with the weight of what is to come, and Jason blinks once, then twice, before his eyes narrow and his maw curls up into a snarl then–

You’re manhandled onto your stomach before you can think, hips pulled up and a hand pressing to the small of your back to press your chest into the dirt. Your gasp is swallowed by the sound of fabric, your skirts tugged up viciously and underwear tugged off without a second thought, baring your pussy to him.

A second passes, and your legs tremble under your weight, anticipation turning your blood molten. And then a warm, wet tongue is pressed flat against your cunt, and you buckle forward, a scream caught in your throat as Jason begins to feast on you in earnest. He’s savage and messy in his movements, lashes of his tongue unforgiving against your clit and folds, growls rumbling in his chest as his laves at your heat.

Your moans ring in the forest air, hips attempting to rock against his tongue but he holds you firm in his grasp, talon tipped fingers digging into the fat of your thighs to keep you still for him. He lets out an unrestrained breath, panting loudly into your wetness. He laps at your pussy desperately, filthy sounds trailing up from behind you.

“Jason,” you choke out brokenly, nails scrabbling for purchase in the grass but only sinking into the dirt, and he grunts in response.

“So fuckin’ wet f’me,” he grumbles, sucking your clit into his mouth. You catch the graze of his teeth against your thigh, but he’s careful as he eats you out, uncontained as he is. “Gonna fuck you. ‘S that what you want? Huh?”

“Y-es!” you cry, tears trickling down your cheek into the grass, and you feel him pull away. You whine at the loss, only to feel his chest curve over your back, and something prod at the entrance of your pussy.

He’s large, that much you can tell, and you feel your lungs empty as the head of his cock pushes into you, stretching you out dizzyingly. Your mind goes blank as he feeds himself into you, every added inch only adding to the fullness you feel. Your pussy sucks him in, slick coating his length as he rocks into you.

When at last he’s seated fully inside, he gives you only a moment to breathe, leaning down to murmur into your ear, darkly amused, “Remember that you asked for this.”

And then he slams his hips against you, picking up a pace that has you gasping for breath, helpless. You can only lie there and take it, sobbing as his cock drags along your walls, catching all the right spots and sending shocks of pleasure eddying in your stomach. It feels utterly filthy, the way he fucks you, mounting you like an animal–and you suppose he is, you think absently, before another wave of heat washes over you.

Everything falls away from you. The park, the city, until all that’s left is you and him in the moonlit grove. Jason takes, and takes, so far from the sweet boyfriend you know, near feral with the ferocity he fucks you. And yet, you can’t say that he neglects you, one large hand reaching around to press into your stomach and circle your clit, tongue returning to the curve of your neck and shoulders. He holds you tight, so much so that all you feel is him. He encompasses all your senses, and when his thrusts begin to grow sloppier, you feel yourself approaching your own climax, hips twisting his loosening grip to rock back against him.

“Gonna–” he bites out. “Gonna come. Y’gonna come for me, pretty?”

“Uh huh,” you whine. Your breathing runs thin, and your eyes roll back when he thrusts next, full and desperate. “Please–please Jason!”

“Come f’me then,” he barks, and you crest with a mangled scream, feeling yourself clamp down on him, pussy contracting tightly. He chokes out a groan and you can feel him faltering, hips stuttering against yours and arms tightening once more as he holds you in place.

A warmth floods you with his thrusts as he comes, spilling inside you with a snarl and rough slap of his skin on yours. He doesn’t stop as he finishes, fucking the both of you through your orgasms, more so his than yours. You can feel the spend spilling from you, your thighs sticky with cum, dripping down your flesh and pooling on the ground below you. He pants above you, breath hot against your ear and you whine when he finally settles, coming to a stop still sheathed in you.

Above you, the waxing moon shines brightly onto the glade and when you open your eyes, silvery light paints your outstretched arm. Still on top, Jason’s hand, now beside your head, is similarly encased.

“You alive?” he pants and you exhale in response, turning your head to look at him. He grins at you, mouth still open, and you purse your lips. Obediently, he lowers his head to kiss you gently and you hum, content. “Satisfied, little thing?”

“Very,” you sigh, stretching out as he shifts above you. Pulling out, the both of you hiss at the loss, and you feel acutely just how much he’d filled you with, more spilling out of you. You roll over and look at him, his eyes staring between your legs with a look of growing hunger and when he lifts his head to look at you, you shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “No. No way. You’ve wrecked me for the night.”

He grins teasingly, head tilting as he gathers you into his arms. “And whose fault is that, hm?”

You widen your eyes, shrugging. “Beats me.”

“Brat,” he huffs, nipping your cheek and you giggle, pushing him away.

“Get off, you brute,” you squeal, and he laughs, only nosing into your space further. Moonlight douses him in silver, and you brush a hand over his cheek when he pulls away. He leans into your touch, smooths his fingers over your side.

“Gotta get you cleaned up, angel,” he mutters and you nod.

“Stay the night with me?” you ask shyly, and you watch his eyes soften, crinkling at the corners.

“‘Course, baby,” he assures. “Here, let me just–”

He cleans you up as best as he can, reaching for a napkin from the depths of his jacket, and you watch his features recede, hair softening and shrinking until Jason, human once more, stares back at you.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you murmur sweetly, knocking your forehead against his.

“Happy?” he asks, and you hum, wrapping your arms around him and twirling the hair at the nape of his neck. His eyes brighten, emerald in the moonlight and you think that he’s what you treasure most in this world.

“Relieved,” you say and at the quirk of his brow you explain. “Told you, I thought you were in a gang, or cage fighting.”

“And this is better?” he questions archly, pinching at your sides teasingly.

“Well, I can’t complain about the sex,” you say primly.

He laughs, the sound ringing through the glade, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

whew. it's finally here. the final installment of the lazy girl's kinktober series and the longest of them all (only by 500 words tbh but it's an important distinction to me). i hope you all enjoyed this, i definitely had an interesting time trying my hand at writing smut. i think i've still got such a long way to go, but i hope it was enjoyable nonetheless.

it's technically november 1st as i'm posting this here, and likely for most places too, which i apologise about. the last few days have been a little rough and i've been avoiding all commitments in order to wallow. this piece is also unedited, so forgive me for any grammatical errors etc. i will try to come back and edit them but in the meantime, thank you for sticking with me this far! it's been a fun month and i'm excited to get back to the requests in my inbox and my other projects!!

#jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fic #x reader #ro's kinktober '23 #kinktober 2023

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arjudy224 · 1 year ago

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Tea Time with Alfred

Context: Alfred has always been a close family friend of your Grandma. After her death both of you haven't been dealing with the grief very well, so you decide to start hanging out more to ease the pain. (Y/G/N: your grandma’s name)

Knocking on the door to Wayne Manor, I fumble with the basket of muffins in my left hand. A very confused Jason opens the door.

"Look Y/N..." He begins awkwardly shifting his balance. Guilt spreads across his sculpted features.

"With love, I'm not here for you." I interrupt putting my hand up to silence him, "Whatever you have to say, save it for another time."

Brushing past him, I wander down the hallway past a dozen or so portraits of the Wayne family. With the high ceilings and shelves filled with books older than my great Grandma, I narrowly get lost in the grandeur. One of the glass shelves catches my attention. A much younger looking Alfred beams up at me while a soaked brunette angrily swats at his shoulder with a shoe. My heart contracts when I recognize the woman. Years before she got sick, Y/G/N was radiant. Although the photo is in black and white, I know for certain she is wearing her faithful orange sweater that was in rags by the time I came around. The photo reads: Alfred's revenge London 1965. My eyes well up with tears at the thought of her being so healthy. The image of how frail she looked in that hospice bed will forever be burned in my heart.

The next photo over shows Alfred, Grandma, and I at my first visit to Gotham. Freshly nine, Gotham was such an adventure. Driving into the city was... nothing short of magical. There may have been crime in every corner, but her stories brought much needed light into the city. My 9 year old self hadn't yet grown into herself. With cracked glasses I had broken moments prior and aggressively neon braces, my fashion had a long way to go. I was probably too big to go on Alfred's shoulders at that point, but he picked me up anyway for the walk around the city. The crowded boardwalk behind us sold the best deep fried oreos in Gotham city. A teenager at the time, Dick had convinced me that the secret ingredient was cocaine... As an adult looking at Gotham city, that joke may not be too far off.

The infamous smell of Alfred's baking grounds me to the present. Dickie isn't stealing my gameboy anymore. He's happily living in Bludhaven revamping their police force. Shit, I really need to call him back. How do you tell someone that if you talk about it there is no guarantee that the crying will ever stop?

It doesn't matter what he’s been saying. It's better to not burden him with this. I take a deep breath to avoid a breakdown. Cookies. Tea time. Glancing at my watch, I realize I'm five minutes late. Classic y/n.

Alfred's back is to me when I finally stumble into the kitchen. A mischievous grin emerges on my face as I creep closer making a conscious effort to silence my footsteps. Jason used to say that watching the two of us sneak up on each other was like watching a cheetah stalking its prey. Of course, Alfred always made it look so easy though. Halfway there....

Stirring a bowl of brownie batter by hand, he calls out to me.

"You've got to do a lot better than that if you want to sneak up on me."

I stifle a laugh throwing my hands up in surrender.

"Sorry Alfie.... Old habits die hard. You would not believe what happened to me today..."

Conversing with the older man fills a void, I have been missing. Telling him about life made everything less scary. If I can spin these horrifying events into a joke during tea time.. well I guess I can survive it.

Alfred isn't one to diverge intense grief, yet I will never forget how heartbroken he was when he explained how painful it was to talk to me. Although our features may be completely different, it was the mannerisms that hurt the most to see: the way I held my hands when I was nervous, the anxious laughter in stressful situations, the silly regency romance novels that sat on my bedside table, the intense hatred of the barren winter... My entire being has been shrouded by her love. For better or worse.

The first couple months, I could almost pretend she wasn't gone. Working two jobs while attending school doesn't give me much time to reflect. However, the holidays left an unspoken hollow void. The empty seat at dinner. The contact I would instinctively dial. The horrible sinking in my chest when I remembered the phone would ring forever.

At the beginning, I think we both pretended we were talking to her. Now as I cackle over his photo collection of Tim falling asleep in public places, I realize how much I love the man who was so important to her. This pain may always stay with me, but what is grief if not love persevering?

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ferg0s · 24 days ago

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Completely out of left field from what I usually post…

But can you imagine being a nanny for the Wayne Family. Bruce hiring you as a way to integrate Damien into being a normal child - but you just think it’s because he’s a busy single dad who wants someone to look after his kid - and spending your time in the manor trying not to die every-time you find out there’s more rooms. Even though you lied on your resume and had your friends pretend to be your references, you get the job and you want to do the best you can bacsuse it’s either this or working retail. Most of your time is helping Damien with homework, listening to him tell you the most effective ways to skin a human without killing them or running around after him as he seems to glide across the room with ninja like agility because he doesn’t want to do the mandatory 1 hour reading he had to do for English class.

You chalk him up to be a quirky kid with quirky interests. God knows you were into some weird things when you were young. (🫵🏼 looking at you yes, you)

You see his other kids come in and out, often coming over for Alfreds cooking. You keep a low profile, saying hello and having small talk occasionally- when you’re not running around after Damien - and they know your presence. You can sense the familt dynamic is a likes strained, but you’re hell bent on being a professional nanny so you keep your head low and enjoy that you get triple the minimum wage for Gotham.

But it seems like who ever enters the manor is cursed with the Wayne family secret. Maybe it was fate that your stomach started to act up just as you were getting ready to leave - and thank god you had found a secluded powder room in the end of the west wing that you claimed as your own - because you spent an ungodly amount of time there that night. You figured you’d apologize to Alfred or Mr.Wayne for staying to late if they caught you at the manor so late - blaming the Joker positioning the water supply for your stomach being upset, which was true to be fair - and you tried your hardest to move towards the front door without making a sound.

As you pass the double doors for the dining room, you begin to hear bickering coning from the other side. You loved job way too much to be fired for snooping on the Waynes, so you ignore it and keep walking until you see what’s happening inside from the small crack of the door being open. Your eyes landing on the sight of the Batman. His back Atleast.

You knew it was wrong - but god you needed answers. You wondered if the conspiracies were true, that Bruce Wayne secretly sponsored Batman and his gang. But as you peer inside, you realize that it wasn’t. You put two and two together when you saw the entirely of Gothams crime fighting heros standing in the living room, going over how they fumbled the two face lead. Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin… the puzzle pieces started to connect in your head.

You quietly exited the manor without saying a word. And what did you do after that? Nothing. You acted as if you saw nothing. You weighed your options. You could keep quiet and pretend like nothing happened, keep your job and enjoy the dental plan that came with it. Or you could blab about it on the news and be crucified by the Bruce Wayne Stans for suggesting such a thing.

The scariest thing in Gotham wasn’t the villains, it was the Bruce Wayne Stans. Every Gothamite knew that.

But it seemed like the more you wanted to ignore the problem the more you got caught up in the web. From walking into Jason cleaning his Red Hood mask in the dinning room, staring at him, turning around and walking out without saying a word to ignoring when Damien casually dropped the tidbit of information about how he was mad at his father because he was grounded from being in the batcave unsupervised.

It all came to a head on a random Wednesday evening when you weee getting water form the kitchen. “How long have you known?” You hear Alfred ask As he polishes the silverware. You tried to play dumb, asking if it was about Damien sneaking in ice cream after bed time - but he quickly cuts you off. “About a month now,” you confess. He nods, putting the polished fork back into the cabinet and picking up another one. “I cannot say that I am pleased to hear that-“ Alfred signs. “But I presume you’re more than capable of saying within the limits of your employment agreement-“ he asks as he looks up at you.

You did sign a NDA saying you wouldn’t leak information to the press.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” You reply as you turn around to the sink to rinse the glass you had used.

“I’m pleased to hear that.” Alfred smiles.

#ferg0s #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #jason todd #richard grayson #tim drake #damien wayne #dc comics #dc universe #dc batman #red hood #nightwing #red robin #dc robin

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somewhereincairparavel · 8 months ago

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Literally where do people get the idea that Jason was full of himself and that he thought he was better than Percy? This is legit brought up in so many 'why-i-hate-jason-grace" arguments it just screams lack of reading comprehension and obvious Percy bias saltiness. Like just say you are bitter that Jason is written as percy's equal and that you want Percy to have nobody rival him 💀

Never once in his povs did he ever think about how much better he was, on the contrary it's just him not feeling good enough about himself. He and Percy NEVER said anything bad about eachother.

His and Percy's rival is just a joke between two powerful demigods who have rival dads, that's literally it. Even if Jason did indeed think he's better, so what about it? What's the big deal?

he has worked hard and accomplished great things, so he has like, every right to be confident in his power, stop acting like hes all weak and inferior when he canonically killed a titan with like his bare fucking hands till the point Krios swore vengeance on him. No he's not "weak" or morally inferior to Percy as a person. You are merely trying to cope. Not to mention the way people judge a character's worth SOLEY based on their abilities is a huge red flag in itself, but that's a discussion for another time.

he shouldve canonically had more achievments and power than he originally got in the books as a son of jupiter. but rick made Percy too OP and fumbled jason for the sake of keeping percy's spotlight intact. Has it ever dawned on people that Percy is shown to have cool abilities like bending tears but Jason is never shown to have abilities like controlling lungs? Yeah, that's authors privilege for ya.

Y'all put Percy in an obnoxiously high pedestal and that's not a good thing. It diminishes his flaws and makes him appear so saint like and Gary Stu even though he's not. the fact that ppl get so sensitive over their rivalry and try to belittle jason by making up scenarios (like claiming jason thinks he's superior and shit) and go around saying that to ppl to reduce his value DESPITE being well aware that he has like enough hate already, is so insanely petty. BOTH Jason and Percy deserve equal amounts of respect.

God forbid a teenage boy say he's better than the other as a joke, he's such a terrible, stuck up, and shitty person who deserved death for that, isn't he?

#Attack me all you want idc I said what I said.#Yall just dig up reasons at this point. It's giving an 8 year old roblox kid behaviour.#Fandom to a boy with a tragic story who literally did nothing but exist and be a good person: he's a villian who deserved death! 😡😠#I swear if Jason slander still exists a few years later then I have no hope in this fandom anymore.#I thought this fandom was peaceful 😔#“I hate Jason with passion bc he's boring and nobody should rival Percy because he's the best.How dare Jason be the son of the king of gods #“how dare someone be percy's equal. Nobody should be written as Percy's competitor 😤😡😠” like womp womp ig #Y'all are so salty lmfao. The fandom makes Percy into such a gary stu even when he's not.#pjo #pjo series #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #jason grace #pjo hoo #hoo

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hazza-bear-care · 1 year ago

Text

What Happened?

After a fight with her boyfriend, Y/N flees to the comfort of her dad's best friend Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: DBF!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Rogers)

Warnings: TW!!!!physical and mental abuse, swearing, death threats, "who did this to you" trope, fluff, age gap (reader is 22, Bucky is 43), pet names (sweets, sweetheart, honey)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I can't believe you went through my phone! Why don't you ever respect my privacy?!" Jason yelled as he dragged Y/N across the living room floor by her hair. Y/N screamed as she attempted to pry his fingers from her blonde locks, but he persisted, pulling her up and shoving her into the wall beside them. Her impact caused a picture to fall off the wall, the frame scraping her face as it fell to the floor, the glass shattering instantly.

"I'm sorry! I promise it won't happen again!" Y/N begged, crouching to the floor as Jason stalked toward her menacingly, an evil look in his eyes as he advanced on her cowering form. Jason's fingers wrapped around her throat tightly, pushing her up against the wall and squeezing. Y/N clawed at his wrists, her fingernails drawing blood as he pressed harder into her throat, a punch meeting her eye in response to her struggle.

"If it happens again, I'll kill you and make it look like you did it yourself. Do you understand me?" Jason seethed, slamming Y/N into the wall after every other word. Y/N nodded frantically as black spots started to cloud her vision, the image of Jason's irate face blurring. Her answer seemed to satisfy him as he released his hold, watching Y/N stumble to the floor, gasping for breath. He kicked her in the ribs once more while she was hunched on the floor before retreating to the bathroom.

Y/N remained on the floor, a coughing, spluttering mess as she choked on the air filling her lungs. When her vision cleared enough, her attention turned toward the picture that had fallen and gingerly flipped it over. Ironically, it was a picture of them on their two year anniversary, taken at their favorite restaurant. It also happened to be the first time he ever laid a hand on her in a malicious way. Y/N stared at the picture for what seemed like an eternity before the sound of the shower starting snapped her out of the trance she was in. In a flash, Y/N was up on her feet, ripping the rest of the pictures off the wall, a flurry of glass and wood splintering around her. Regret sank deep in her bones as she looked at the mess on the floor. Surely, Jason would fly into a rage again, but she wasn't sure she'd survive another incident.

With that internal revelation made, Y/N ran out of the apartment she shared with Jason, stumbling down the stairs as she ran out of the building and down the street as fast as she could. Her heart and adrenaline were pumping fast and hard as she sprinted further away from her abusive boyfriend, tears blurring her vision as she ran. She passed people and dogs, dodging anyone and anything that ended up in her way. After running for 10 minutes straight, Y/N paused under the awning of a building to catch her breath, vision going spotty again as her head began to ache in time with her heartbeat pounding in her chest. Shaking it off, she turned to look at the building behind her, sobbing once more as she viewed the sign painted on the window she was leaning on: La Bella Italia, their favorite restaurant.

With an angered cry, Y/N took off down the street once again, ignoring the sound of thunder rumbling over her head. Lightning flashed and thunder followed once again before the sky opened up and rain fell from the heavens, soaking Y/N almost instantly the faster she ran.

Once she recognized where she was through the torrential rain and spotty vision, she ran for the house she had visited more times than she could count. She jogged to the door, collapsing against it as she fumbled to find the doorbell. Her finger made contact with it the button, following it by slapping her hand against the wood frantically.

"Bucky! It's Y/N, please open up!" Thunder boomed overhead again, causing Y/N to cry once more, this time due to the pounding in her head. She slapped the door twice more before it flew open, revealing Bucky in nothing but a towel. He had just come home from working out with her father, a shower relaxing his aching muscles. Bucky took in the sight of Y/N soaked and chilled to the bone by the rain, dried blood and her hair sticking to her face.

"Y/N? What happened? Are you okay? Come in!" Bucky didn't hesitate to pull Y/N inside the warm sanctuary of his house and closing the door once she was inside. Y/N collapsed into Bucky's arms once she was out of the storm, the tears once more flowing freely as she sobbed into his neck. Bucky patted Y/N's back, shushing her as she wailed for 20 minutes. Once she was done, he pulled her face away and examined the swelling bruise that had formed during her run. He noted the cut on her temple and cheek, the cuts on her legs from the shards of glass flying around her. His eyes finally met the bruise on her neck, the imprint of two thumbs resting prominently on her trachea.

Bucky's quizzical gaze turned to one of stone, rage burning deep into his stomach.

"Who did this to you?" Bucky growled, his voice firm and demanding. Y/N sheepishly looked anywhere but his face, refusing to make eye contact with the man in front of her. "Y/N. Who did this to you?" He repeated.

"Jason." She whimpered, her bottom lip trembling as more tears threatened to fall. Bucky groaned, pulling Y/N back into his welcoming embrace as he imagined every possible way he could hurt the coward who hurt Y/N. His Y/N.

"I'm gonna kill him." Bucky murmured, holding Y/N at arm's length to see her injuries once more. Y/N shrank under his scrutinizing gaze, bowing her head. "Stay here. I'll be right back, okay?" Bucky ordered, watching Y/N nod before he turned to get himself changed, grabbing an extra towel and some clothes for Y/N. When he returned, she had sat against the door, her eyes closed, but brows furrowed in distress. Bucky knelt beside her and tapped her shoulder, her eyes flying open in fear.

"Shh, sweetheart, it's just me. You're safe, I promise." Bucky cooed.

"I'm sorry. I got dizzy and needed to sit." Y/N explained. Bucky simply told her it was okay and helped her stand, catching her when she stumbled forward. He scooped her up and carried her to the bathroom, apologizing when she flinched at the bright lights.

Bucky placed Y/N on the bathroom counter, once again surveying her bloodied face. With a sigh, he snatched a hand towel off of the ring beside his sink, dampening it with cold water. He pressed it gently against the wound on her temple, once again apologizing for causing her pain.

"I was serious, Y/N. About killing him. No man should ever lay his hands on a woman, let alone his woman." Bucky spoke, breaking the silence that had steadily grown between them as he gently rubbed the blood from her face.

"Don't." Y/N whispered, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.

Bucky groaned in frustration, trying not to get even more upset about the situation, while also trying to avoid a fight.

"Fine. But you should at least press charges and dump his sorry ass. He doesn't deserve you anyway, sweets. Now, I have to ask, why come here and not to your dad?" Bucky questioned softly, running the damp cloth down her cut legs next. He silently noted the fact that she was barefoot but ignored it as he waited for Y/N to answer him.

"He knows where Dad lives. It's going to be the first place he looks when he realizes I'm gone. I'm sorry for intruding I just.... I didn't know where else to go." Y/N cried, chin quivering once more.

"Hey, hey, don't start crying again. You're always welcome here, sweetheart. Running away from a boy or not." Bucky replied, cupping her face in his hands. Y/N managed to crack a smile, which quickly morphed into a wince as her head started throbbing again.

"I think I have a concussion. He.... slammed me into the wall a few times." Y/N admitted sheepishly, wincing once again at the bright lights around her.

"Okay, let's get you changed and we'll go to the hospital." Bucky finalized.

"No! Bucky please, I just want to stay with you!" Y/N cried, clutching Bucky's shirt in her fists.

"Honey, I know you're scared, but I can't diagnose a concussion here. You also need stitches. I will be with you the whole time, okay?" Bucky reasoned, holding Y/N close to him as she began to panic.

"Promise?" she whispered.

"I pinky promise, sweetheart." Bucky whispered back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They returned from the emergency room at 12:30, exhaustion settling deep into Y/N's bones.

She had been stitched up, given antibiotics and pain medication for her concussion. Bucky had decided that staying at his house was the best way to keep her safe, both from Jason and her concussion. He ushered her inside and upstairs once more, the pain medication making her loopy and giggly.

"You're so pretty, Bucky. How are you still single?" Y/N asked through giggles as Bucky got her situated in his bed.

"You know, that is a great question, honey. One that I don't have an answer to." Bucky chuckled in response, tucking her legs under the blankets and settling her back into the pillows.

"Are you staying?" Y/N asked softly, grabbing Bucky's hand and interlocking their fingers together as he kneeled beside her, his metal fingers brushing through her hair.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm staying. I'll protect you." Bucky's voice was soft and comforting as he continued to stroke her hair.

"Kiss me." Y/N muttered, eyes fluttering to Bucky's.

"I can't, Y/N." Bucky whispered back. He couldn't kiss his best friend's daughter. She was high on pain meds anyway; she didn't know what she was asking for and he knew she'd regret it in the morning.

"Please, Bucky. I need to know what it's like to be loved again." More tears fell for the countless time that night as the thought of Jason's actions as the last acts of love she'd ever receive. Y/N took her hand from Bucky's and rolled over, the tears falling silently down her cheeks and onto the pillowcase. Sobs wracked her body, causing Bucky to jump in bed beside her and pull her into his arms. Y/N tried to fight him, tried to push out of his grasp. If he didn't want to love her, then clearly she wasn't worth loving.

"Y/N, you don't want me to love you. I can't love you. Steve, your dad, would kill me. If I'm dead, how can I protect you from assholes like Jason?" Bucky asked, trying to make the moment lighter with a joke.

"I don't care, Bucky. I just want you." Caught off guard by her confession, Bucky's grip loosened, allowing Y/N to slip out of his arms and the bed, to retreat downstairs to the couch. She braced herself against the wall, willing herself to not get dizzy.

"Y/N, come back here!" Bucky called, chasing her down the stairs before she could fall and hurt herself more.

"Why should I?" Y/N bit back, pushing Bucky's hand off of her shoulder as she tried to retreat back to the door.

"Don't you dare open that door, Y/N. Where are you going to go? You can't go to your dad's, you can't go to your place, and you sure as hell can't go back out in that storm!" Bucky yelled, stepping next to where Y/N was standing, her hand gripping the doorknob tightly in an attempt to keep herself standing.

"He loves me. I just... made a mistake." Y/N said softly, another tear rolling down her cheek.

"No, Y/N, you didn't make a mistake. He doesn't love you. If he loved you, he wouldn't have ever laid a hand on you." Bucky argued, trying his hardest to keep his dream girl in his house and away from the abusive prick she thought loved her.

"Bucky," She started, turning her head to look at her savior, the man she trusted to keep her safe.

"I love you, sweetheart." Bucky blurted.

"What?" Y/N asked, eyes widened with the realization that her crush on her father's best friend wasn't one sided.

"I love you, Y/N. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me in my shitty hell of a life. You and your dad have gotten me through so many dark times, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about you; kissing you, making you laugh, loving you the way you deserve to be loved. It broke my heart when you started dating that jackass, even more when you moved in with him. And seeing you here, bloody and broken due to his hands, I'm trying my best to not kill him for hurting my girl."

"Your girl?" Y/N's head was swimming from Bucky's confession of love, as well as her concussion, and her knees were weak. She turned her back to the door and slid down to the floor again, trying to steady herself and her thoughts.

"Yes, honey. My girl. And I will spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you and how much you mean to me. Is that okay?" Bucky knelt beside her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cupping her cheek. For the first time since they've been home, Y/N looked at Bucky and was met with blue eyes filled to the brim with love and adoration. Everything he said was true, and she felt it in her bones that this is where she was supposed to be.

"I.... I don't know what to say, Bucky. I can't just leave Jason. He.... He said he'd kill me if I even tried. I dreamed of everything you just said, I've wanted you for a while."

"Oh, I know, honey. You didn't hide your feelings very well." Bucky chuckled and Y/N cracked a smile at his joke. He was right; when she had first met Bucky, Y/N did everything in her power to spend time with him. He helped her move into her dorm room, and then into her first real apartment. When she and Jason ended up together, Y/N contemplated how she was going to tell Bucky, but her father broke the ice on that discussion during his birthday barbecue, and Bucky's reaction wasn't hard to miss. Now after three years of a pointless relationship and abuse, she was finally hearing that the man of her dreams wanted her.

"Bucky, I'm serious. I love you too, so much, but Jason would.... he would kill me, then my dad, then you. He'd win." Y/N sniffled as she started crying again, groaning as she pressed her palms to her eyes, annoyed with herself for how much she had cried in the past few hours.

"Y/N, we will get through this. We'll handle Jason when the time comes, okay? We'll get you a lawyer, a court date, witnesses, but right now you need to get better. Can we get you back in bed? I know you're tired." As if on cue, Y/N yawned which caused Bucky to chuckle. With a nod, Bucky helped Y/N back to her feet and up to his room, helping her get adjusted so she could sleep soundly.

"Can we watch FRIENDS?" Y/N asked.

"Of course, sweetheart. Any episode in particular?" Bucky asked, remote at the ready to accommodate his girl.

"'The One Where No One's Ready.' Season three, I think." Bucky nodded, turning his attention to the TV and turning on Y/N's favorite show. He had seen a few episodes in passing after hearing Y/N talk about it, and he thought it was hilarious, so he didn't mind watching this until she fell asleep. Once the episode had started and she had convinced Bucky to clap along to the theme song with her, Y/N finally began to relax. Her body sunk deeper into Bucky's bed, his warmth and scent enveloping her and helping her feel safe. She dared to glance over at him, his eyes glued to one of the funniest sitcom episodes to ever exist (while making a note to show him the Stress Relief episodes of The Office) and she admired his sharp nose, chiseled jaw line with a hint of five o'clock shadow dabbled all over. His metal arm hummed softly as he adjusted, leaning back on his headboard with one arm over his head.

"You're staring, sweets. What's going through your pretty head?" Bucky asked, meeting her gaze before she could turn her attention back to Ross scrambling to get his friends out the door and whining about his dinosaur watch.

"That kiss I asked you about earlier. I can't stop thinking about how soft your lips would be." Her confidence had grown slightly, but she still blushed at the look on Bucky's face, a look of love.

"You know, I've been thinking the exact same thing, sweetheart. Come here." Bucky gently scooped Y/N into his arms so she was straddling him, and the eye contact between them was searing. Canned laughter echoed behind Y/N as the group of friends was still rushing out of the door, and Bucky took that as his cue. In a flash, his lips crashed against Y/N's and the two of them moaned simultaneously, reveling in the feeling of their dreams coming true. The simple peck soon deepened into a passionate kiss, a mixture of teeth, tongue, and saliva furthering the progression of their newfound love. When they separated to breath, Y/N broke out into a case of the giggles.

"What's so funny, sweetheart?" Bucky asked, a smile spreading on his own face as Y/N continued to laugh on his lap.

"Nothing, I just can't believe that just happened. Can we do it again?"

"Anything for you, honey." With that, they kissed again, over and over until they were so breathless Y/N didn't know what was causing her newest dizzy spell, her concussion or kissing Bucky until she couldn't.

A few minutes later, Y/N had fallen asleep wrapped in Bucky's arms feeling safer than she had in years. As Bucky stared at the girl in his bed, he was finally happy as he watched her breathing. He still hated how bruised she was, but that was something to take care of on a different day. For now, she was sleeping, safe, and loved.

Bucky vowed then and there to protect Y/N from now until she said not to. And he hoped that day would never come.

~~~~~~~~~

TWO WIPS DONE!!!! I hope you guys enjoyed it! comment, reblog, share, and leave some recommendations on what you want to see next. Love you!

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #fluff #angst #avengers imagine

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damianbugs · 1 year ago

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Honestly I would love a Jason Todd comic that focused on confronting his world view, like yes it's easy to put a bullet through the head of every criminal but, the world isn't so black and white, sometimes criminals either have no choice/it goes deeper than that. Similar to how utrh questions Bruce's morality (nothing really came of it) I want a comic where Jason's world view is also questioned.

He really has a lot of potential but idk DC keeps fumbling. I'd like to know your thoughts on how you would handle a Jason storyline, I love your metas.

oh how i mourn the disappointing horror of everything under the red hood could have been... for both bruce and jason!

if i were to handle a jason comic, i would disregard everything ever written after under the red hood and related stories. as much as i enjoy jason joining the batfam and rebuilding bridges in fanon works, i much prefer jason becoming a permanent member of the gotham rouge gallery and staying batman's kind-of-enemy in canon.

what i think utrh was setting up was Jason Todd, Ultimate Foe of Bruce Wayne. jason is a incredibly smart and cunning character, who planned to the smallest detail in order to get his desired outcome. nothing he did was by accident. but more importantly, his unwavering and concrete code can only be rivalled by batman, and so, they will constantly be at odds. if utrh taught us anything, it is that jason and bruce are always going to be plagued by what they lost in each other, and as a result, will never find their way back to what they once were.

they will now forever exist as consequences of each other, no matter what.

by doing this to his story, jason finally has the chance to grow as his own character, independent from the batfam;

one of the biggest problems with how dc is handling jason is that they want him to be this angry, violent and unsociable person while also trying to convince everyone that he is not angry and not violent and very sociable with the batfam. this causes the disparity in his writing, either with inconsistencies or just downright character assassination.

if he was kept as gotham's anti-hero, then this gives him the freedom to find his own code that is no longer dependent on batman's overarching one. utrh jason kills indiscriminately because it's what solves the problem that batman's never been able to fix: crime. jason, who is young, and betrayed, and for all that he is intelligent, he is naive and claims he's the long term solution to batman's short term one. unfortunately, killing criminals to stop criminals from existing works until, like you said, comes a situation where the world isn't so black and white.

jason knows this, probably better than anyone. he comes from poverty and homelessness, lost his parents to drugs and sickness and violence. many of his stories as robin highlight how, unlike batman, jason is able to see people for who they are and not just their actions, offering a empathetic insight that batman, for all he is kind, can never truly grasp.

as red hood, i think a combination of the lazarus pit, his training, and his murderer, batman's seemingly disregard for him, how the world moves on while jason is stuck, has made him forget this kindness he had in him. that he still has. so we need a story where it is pulled out of him and he is forced to battle what he's always known.

i think this question of jason's morality was what zdarsky was TRYING to do with Cheer (Batman Urban Legends #1-#6), but it fell flat due to the terrible portrayal of Robin Jason. The story itself of jason killing someone and bruce reacting to it left a lot to be desired (as always). not to mention how out of all the criminals jason could've been shown to kill, having it be a dealer who is also an addict is rather... tone deaf on jason's own moral code. the killing was also not calculated or "for the greater good" and was instead a rage-filled thoughtless killing which, again, is a gross misunderstanding of jason's moral code and intelligence.

so we almost had it, a story where jason has to fight someone more stubborn than batman — himself. as a character in batman's rouge gallery, this horrifying realisation of who he shares that title with, the determination to be better not because of batman, but because jason himself has realised he can do more by doing less of what he's been doing.

i don't know if i would rule out jason killing people entirely, since it is such an integral deconstruction of who he was as robin and who he is now as red hood, but i would like to think he changes how he holds his weapons. less of "i kill because it's the only way to fix this" and more "i kill because sometimes it's the best thing i can do to fix this". a very subtle but still problematic change that isolates him from ever joining the batfam.

it might seem sort of cruel, that my ideal jason story makes him lonely and more of a villian, but i think that is the sort of tragic path his character is forced to adopt. he made this bed when he returned to gotham with retribution in his plans and hurt in his heart, and now he must lie in.

there is always the potential for him to be happy, to have his family and friends and be the sort of hero he was as a teenager — but to get there, it needs to get worse before it can get better. that's what dc failed with jason, skipping the internal turmoil and drama and harsh reality checks and skipping straight to the part where he has a family again.

plus, batman's rouge gallery teach lessons to batman. poison ivy, harley, two face, strange, riddler and (annoyingly) even the joker play crucial roles to who batman is as a hero and constantly force him to challenge his code.

jason teaches the biggest lesson of all — that batman is bruce wayne. he had the potential to be the driving force that changed bruce's character forever, because red hood is a reflection that batman created all on his own, not by being batman, but by being bruce wayne. and this fact would have given jason the chance to be more than just that.

#sorry for rambling #and for bringing it back to bruce and jason #unfortunately i am insane about them #one day we will get a writer who truly values jason #and all that he was as robin and all he can be as red hood #one day...#jason todd #bruce wayne #saki comic talks #saki anons #dc meta

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goodolddumbbanana · 5 months ago

Text

TO BE MIRROR AU [4]

An Au when Sun is dead (by Nexus), Dark Sun pretends to be Sun while trying to find some way to revive Sun in secret. Nexus's break down, maybe get some redemption. Everyone is not having a good time except Sun, that poor boy only when he is dead (temporarily) can has some rest.

Warning: Bad grammar cuz I am not very smart.

Summary: Sun is dead, or in a coma, and is being hidden by Dark Sun in his laboratory. Dark Sun pretends to be Sun and has just finished his shift.

The kindergarten is bustling with children's laughter. Looming in the doorway, a yellow animatronic with sun-like rays wearing a clown theme, enthusiastically returned the group of children to their parents.

"Bye Evans!! See you tomorrow Jason!! Yes! I see it, your art is very beautiful Alice!---"

It's time for the kids to go home, and every single day, the kindergarten is overcrowded with tired parents or children crying begging to stay, gathering like termite nests, making ‘Sun’ even with Earth and Lunar’s help, still feeling like his battery is about to run out.

"Sun, are you okay?" Earth asks, her voice fills with concern. Everyone has noticed that Sun seemed tired recently, but her brother kept insisting he was fine.

"Ah... yeah..." Sun laughs nervously. Sun's high-pitched voice turns his words into a jumbled nonsense, and his hand waves awkwardly in the air before falling to his side.

"It's just... Er--- Meeting N-Nexus again... makes me feel... a little conflict..."

"Oh... Sun" Earth's eyes soften. The last time they saw Nexus had reopened an open wound in the celestial family, especially when he had almost successfully kill both Sun and Moon.

She wants to say that she understands the feeling of betrayal that is tearing at Sun's heart right now, but she knows that Sun's feelings about Nexus are more complicated than that. Nexus was not only the person closest to and cares about Sun the most, he was also the one who gives Sun hope that things will be different from now on, that Moon will become better.

The dull phantom pain echo on Earth's arm served as a painful reminder of why Nexus was forced to leave, why she couldn't call Nexus her brother without feeling disappointed and a brustling tear inside her chest.

"Oh I'm sorry Earth... I shouldn't have said it... I... just---" Sun rubs his hand, his fingers fumbling over the red ribbon on his wrist.

"--- Is it strange that I feel like I miss Nexus despite... all he's done?"

"...I don't know, Sun." Earth spoke slowly. She pushes her cloudy hair aside, her hand caressing the smooth wool fabric of the pink shirt she wore. "I personally miss Nexus too... but Nexus has done many terrible things..."

She could never forget the way her boyfriend's body broke into different pieces, their voice boxes couldn't even form a complete sound. They suffered continuously under Nexus's sadistic laughter, and as always, Earth could do nothing.

"Yeah..." Sun says shakily. "He had hurt you, Earth. And Moon and Lunar and Monty too..."

Earth realizes her brother has ignored himself, but she says nothing else. That is for another day.

The daycare still looks as cheerful as ever, it's hard to believe how much has happened. As if Nexus's voice still lingered in her ears, even the most beautiful memories and the most terrible moments intertwined, causing Earth to lose her rhythm in space.

A hand gently touches her elbow, the rattle sounds like a drop of water dropped into a still lake.

"E--Earth?? Are you okay?" Her aqua blue eyes meet Sun's worried silver pupils. Her brother looks at her worriedly, his hands clumsy as if he wants to hug her but stopped midway. "I'm sorry Earth. I made you sad over nothing."

"No... No... I'm glad you are able to share, Sun." Earth waves. "It really makes me feel better... Knowing that I'm not the only one missing M-- Nexus... I know that with Moon around, you're often hesitant to share things like this..."

"Yeah..." Sun says hesitantly. "So... Do you want to play a game? We can play that Princess Makeup game you like? And I'll make some extra fries? Though I think Solar is busy right now."

"But… Does it bother you, Sun? Since you've been working all day?"

"Nah... It won't take long. And we can drag Lunar to watch a movie with us, any princess movie you like. It'll be fun. Uhm--- That's right, A Family Night ! I'll ask if Moon has finished his work... There's food so I guess Moon won't refuse."

Earth's face lit up, her eyes sparkled with fireflies. She shooks her cloudy hair, her whole body almost standing on tiptoe.

"Have I ever said that you are my best big brother?"

Sun giggles, her brother's back hunches slightly, as if still not used to positive compliments. The two walked through the portal, seeing lying on the sofa were two moon-themed animatronics.

"Earth, help me!! Moon refuses to give me the TV remote!!"

"Why don't you just go downstairs?" Sun's voice mixed with laughter and confusion, like the steaming hiss of a kettle.

"Because I'm already lying down, Sun! I can't move anymore!!!"

"What do you mean you can't move anymore!!! Just get up!!"

"Easy for you, Sun!!! You don’t even know how comfortable this sofa is!!"

"Hey Earth." Earth turned around, for a moment, Nexus's image merged with Moon's image and then disappeared in the blink of her eye.

"Oh hello Moon. What are you doing?"

"Popcorn." Moon just said that with a mouth full of butter, with eyes staring at the TV. What cartoon is this? Apparently it is the Monkie kid show, the show that Earth has never seen before, only heard Sun and Moon talk back and forth a few times.

"Great, I was just going to call and ask if you were coming home early… Guess I don't need to do that anymore… Seeing how much fun you two have…"

Sun crossed his arms, Earth could feel his brother's eye twitching slightly at the mess the two brothers made on the floor.

Both Lunar and Moon immediately reflexively pointed at each other and shouted.

"IT IS LUNAR'S FAULT!!"

"YOU BASTARD!!! YOU EAT IT ALL UP AND TELL ME TO BLAME THESE CATS!!!

Popcorn splashes everywhere. A bottle flew through the air, pouring sauce onto the new carpet, splashing Sun.

Silence spread in the air.

Then, Sun signs, a very long and helpless sigh.

"I'm going to the bathroom to clean up." Sun's finger points to the floor and gestures at her brother's eyes. "When I get out, I don't want to see any more trash on the ground."

His response was two more sighs filled with frustration.

"Okay, Sun."

"Yeah... Yeah... I'll do it, Sun.

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

'Sun' enters the bathroom, he could still hear the murmuring sounds of Moon and Lunar.

"It's your fault."

"Nu uh, it's your fault."

"Lunar. You piece of--!?"----

A small giggle rang out in the bathroom space, the mirror showing a shiny yellow body smiling reluctantly. The beams on his head were smeared with orange grease, and the fringe of his dress was smeared with something brown.

'Sun' lowers his face to the sink, the cool water touching his metal plate. The liquid flowed through 'Sun's' hand, splashed onto the wall, and formed droplets of water onto the silver bell he had carefully placed on the shelf.

'Sun’' face flickers in the mirror, the slight smile from before disappeared, drifting with the water, replaced by an empty look. Silver eyes blurred in red, the innate nervous awkwardness of the animatronic named 'Sun' disappeared, replaced by the indifferent look of Dark Sun.

A gentle voice, without any stuttering, rang out in the quiet, soundproof space.

"Lunar and Earth are both fine, even Solar. It's just Moon being obnoxious as usual."

"I really want it all to end right now, to see Moon's smug face turn into an ugly miserable expression."

"But the thought of you looking down on me for not being able to do something as simple as pretending makes me want to keep persevering until everything is on track again."

"..."

"You have quite a lovely family, Sun. It's a shame the person here isn't you, eh?"

The person in the mirror is incapable of responding.

"Hmm... Who am I kidding?" Dark Sun shook his head. The meaningless promise of a dead man suddenly became a shackle that made it impossible for Dark Sun to leave.

"I heard about Earth and Lunar. Admit it, you like being with them." Sun's high-pitched, stuttering voice collided with Dark Sun's monotone and condescending voice.

They still remained wary of each other, but in the tight confines of these rainy days, in this room, a silent agreement allowed for a civil dialogue between two people who were neither enemies nor friends.

"It's just an act, Sun. Don't express it so haphazardly." Dark Sun continued to kill the zombies on the screen, the rain creating a gentle background sound, making the space they were in as if they belonged to a barrier that only they could enter.

"You're full of bullshit, you know. Why don't you admit that my sisters are fun to be with?" Sun responded irritably, eyes looking up at the screen trying to aim for Tom's head.

"Then why don't you just admit that you have a lot of problems that you refuse to acknowledge and even though you think you have higher morals than me, the only one who killed your own brother and made two others leave was you?"

"..."

"That's exactly what I thought."

He knows that look. It's the look of 'I'm so hurt right now and I could say more worse things to you but I'm so used to your bullshit and if I respond I'll be just the same as you so I'll just shut up and ignore what you said. Also, fuck you.'

Dark Sun felt the person next to him shrink a bit, a feeling of guilt, something he thought he had buried a long time ago, suddenly throbbed like a ghost in his heart.

He still needs Sun to like him. Not so much for them to become friends (the whisper in his head screamed that it could never happen because of who he is right now) but for Sun to let down his guard towards him.

So should he apologize? Dark Sun remembers how kind and sensitive he used to be, but he also remembers how Moon used to scream at him to suck it up and let it go.

Consolation is no longer in Dark Sun's dictionary, because no matter how he tries, Moon still gets angry and takes it out on him. No amount of pleading or silence could dispel Moon's unpredictable anger. And gradually, Sun stopped trying to make peace... and just endured, endured, and endured... Until he just can't… and just snapped.

"I don't understand you, Dark Sun. Why can you be another version of me, but the difference between us can be so big?" Sun said with a sense of exhaustion that emanated from his core.

"Hmm?" Dark Sun blinked, he smiled faintly. Sun's silver eyes reflect Dark Sun's red shadow. "So does it make you feel sad? Disappointed?"

"..."

"I'm you, I know what you think. You really don't have to be so polite towards me."

"...Isn't it fun? To manipulate things to your will like that? I heard the stories Moon told. You killed your Moon, you did things I never thought I would be able to do ... You don't care if you hurt the people around you or not..."

Dark Sun interrupted, his hand unconsciously holding the remote a little too tightly.

"Don't lie to yourself, we both know it's not true. If you had the same chance as me, you would have done it, maybe even worse than me." Dark Sun almost yelled, his voice got louder and louder.

"...Unlike you, I don't want to hurt others." Sun softly whispers.

"But in reality, aren't you still doing that? Lunar, Moon, Nexus, is there anyone you're close to who hasn't been hurt by your naivety?"

"... Is this about me or about you?"

The air was filled with tension. Their conversations always ended like this. Uncomfortable. Forced. Confinement. Feeling of inhibition scraping through the lungs without being able to speak. But for some reason, they continued to rush at each other like moths, continuing their damn habit of sitting and playing video games together.

Call it self-therapy. Call it self-hate.

There are too many entanglements and secret goals between the two, making it impossible for them to communicate like normal people even if they try.

Dark Sun denies his need for friendship. Sun refuses to feel comfortable with a man who murdered his own brother.

Both try to live in their own comfort lies.

"Try to build yourself a backbone, then maybe you'll be able to understand why I'm the way I am."

"... It's funny how you keep saying that, when you know I could never leave Moon." Sun replied quietly.

The ghost of the words still seemed to pass through Dark Sun's ears.

There is a loud banging on the door, Sun's Moon---Moon shouted outside.

"Hurry up Sun, the movie is about to start."

"Here-- I'm coming!!" 'Sun' shouted stutteringly. "I am combing my hair!!!"

"You don't have hair, Sun!!"

"YES I DO, MOON!!"

Blinking at the reflection, instead of the image of 'Sun' that appeared, a Moon with a ruined face and broken body looking back at Dark Sun.

A grim, helpless sigh echoes in Dark Sun's throat.

"...Sometimes I wish you would. It would make everything a lot easier."

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams #tsams sun #sams sun #tsams moon #tsams dark sun #tsams nexus #sams moon #To be a mirror au #tsams au #to be a mirror

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