#and jason thinks its too funny to do it for him

[ktkat99]

Roy- Listen to me. You're new, so you might not know this yet, but what's the worst thing about dating a Wayne?

Bernard- Uhh, Bruce's shovel talk?

Roy- No.

Bernard- The late hours they're always working?

Roy- No.

Roy- You'll never be able to steal their clothes.

Roy- They all steal each other's clothes and no one knows what belongs to who half the time.

Roy- I swiped Bruce's housecoat last Christmas because I thought it was Jason's and I still can't look him in the eye

[angstandhappiness]

LMAO YES

uhhh. bruce wayne modelling gig. have a good day 🥰

[prlssprfctn]

I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?

They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.

Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?

Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.

He is too scared.

He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?

"Knock, knock!"

Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.

He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?

"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.

Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.

"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"

"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."

"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"

Jason laughs.

His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.

Good job, Jason.

"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.

"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.

"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."

He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–

"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.

"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.

"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"

Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.

But for some reason, he doesn't.

"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.

"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."

He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.

"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.

"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.

He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.

Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.

You will die his son.

[fcthots]

You’re sitting on the couch of your shared apartment when Jason climbs in through the window, finally done with patrol. His entrance makes you look up from your phone. He reaches up and tugs his helmet off. His hair looks a little funny, but it also made him look good. He didn’t need the ego boost though. You can tell he had an eventful patrol by the smile on his face.

He walks towards you and drops his hand onto your arm. He lets it slide down until his hand rests on yours. He pulls your hand to his lips in greeting. “Hey, princess.” He squeezes your hand before giving it back to you.

“How was patrol?” You watch as he strips off his outer layers of gear. The display never gets old.

“Good.” He laughs. “But I have got to tell you what happened. Red Robin, Tim, smacked into Red Robin, the restaurant. It was completely by accident too. I begged Babs to get me the camera footage. She’s searching as we speak.”

You laugh at his enthusiasm and the way he laughed before he even finished the story. You ask him questions, he answers them. It continues until he goes to take his shower.

You turn back to your phone. This is where it all goes wrong, because you see a post that ruins your day. It reads, “the first time most men receive flowers is at their funeral.”

Evil. Illegal. Unacceptable. Had you really never given Jason flowers before? You swore you did but your memory came up empty. By the time you finished your existential flower crisis, Jason finished showering and called you to bed. He’s exhausted and falls asleep quickly. You, however, stay awake and plan. You will get the love of your life flowers. You will not let the first time he receives flowers to be at his funeral. You fall asleep trying to decide what flowers he would like best.

You wake up before him, getting up as gently as possible. If he wakes up with you, he’ll trap you for cuddles in his huge beefy inescapable arms, so you must be careful. You wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t know Jason as well as you do.

You get ready as silently and as quickly as possible before sliding out the door. The nearest flower shop isn’t too far. You make it there and back in 30 minutes, and most of that time was spent deciding what flowers you wanted to get Jason.

You walk home with a bouquet of simple red roses with some baby’s breath sprinkled in. It’s wrapped in black paper with a read bow, a color combination you’re sure he’ll love.

You walk home a little slower, careful not to disturb the flowers cradled in your arms. The long walk leaves you to your thoughts. You wonder how Jason will react.

And then you get worried. What if he thinks it’s weird? Jason has never called you weird unaffectionately before, but what if this is what does it? Or, even worse, what if he pretends to like them but actually thinks it’s weird? You spiral a little and panic. You eventually walk head first into your door on muscle memory.

You make sure the flowers are okay before opening the door. You hide the bouquet behind your back. To your surprise, Jason is awake and in the kitchen. His morning voice greets you with a smile. “Did you just walk into the door?”

Your worry begins to fade and a smile crawls its way onto your face. “Shut up.”

He laughs and the sound makes you blush. You love him. “You did!”

“And to think I was out getting you a present.” You shake your head.

“You got me a present?” He looks a like an excited puppy.

“I got my loving boyfriend a present. Let me know if you see him.” You pretend as if you’re about to walk out.

Jason rushes over to you smiling. “Wait, no! He’s right here! Please! I want my present!”

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you thrust the flowers at him. He takes them from you, his smile softening. “Do you like them?”

He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “What are these for? They’re beautiful. I love them.” You watch him feel the petals with a gentle smile that he can’t seem to help.

You tell him about the post you saw, and how you couldn’t let the first time he got flowers be at his funeral. He pauses. “Babe. I really love the flowers. Seriously. Best gift ever. But um. The first time I got flowers was at my funeral.” He watches your face.

You lift a hand and cover your mouth. “Oh my god.” He laughs and uses one had to hug to you to his chest.

“I really love the sentiment! It means a lot! I love them so much!” He smiles into your hair as you wrap your arms around him.

“That’s why I remember buying you flowers before but couldn’t remember giving them to you. I feel terrible.”

“Don’t. This was so sweet, seriously. If it wasn’t the ass crack of dawn, I would cry.”

You laugh. “It’s past noon.”

He huffs. “Same thing. We were up until like 4.”

“This is true,” you say. “I still feel so bad though. I can’t believe I forgot you had a funeral already.”

He laughs and you can feel it in his chest. “The idea was really sweet, princess. I love the flowers. You just made my day. Nay, my week.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you running into the door really sealed the deal.”

You push on his chest. “I hate you.”

[demonic0angel]

Hi. Uhhh I thought this ask was funny so…

At some sort of event where both the bat fam and the phantom siblings are there. (How they’d know each other is up to you) one of the phantom siblings drops a bombshell about their lore and they continue on like it didn’t happen. But the one to do it isn’t one of the Dannys or Dan it’s Jazz. Cause Jazz is just as feral as the other three and I need to see it. Cause she is Danny “I like to drop lore bombs on people over dinner.” Feton’s sister.

I thought this was funny so uh here. *Shoves ask on a silver platter at you and runs away.*

(*eats the ask so fast that I choke on the platter like a seagull that doesn't know its limits*)

They all congregated around the food table, chatting and gossiping.

"Did you see that fucking haircut?" Jason said with a snicker. "His parents don't give a fuck about him."

"Not a single goddamn bit," Steph said.

Bruce hummed. "That's not very nice," he said, though he looked like he agreed wholeheartedly.

Dani leaned in and asked, "Which one is the one who tried starting a gang in Crime Alley but couldn't because she was a nepo baby and everyone was too embarrassed to join her even though she had a lot of money?"

Tim chuckled and pointed. "That one."

Danny laughed. "Hah! I can't even imagine that! No one joined, even though she had money?"

Jason joined him, almost cackling. "Right?! She has a reputation of being bad luck in business too, it's literally a thing. She sank three different companies before no one bothered hiring her, so when she made a gang, no one joined."

"And in Crime Alley? It's literally a meme now," Stephanie said with a grin.

"Can't imagine starting something and failing because no one wanted to follow me," Jazz said then, an amused smile on her face.

"Yeah," Dani snorted. "Because you successfully created a cult in Danny's name."

It was like a record scratch as everyone paused, but none of the Nightingales noticed, continuing on.

Danny groaned. "Don't remind me! I can't believe it became so popular that it's the most practiced religion amongst the dead! Do you know how embarrassed I feel when one of my worshippers come up to me and start kissing my hands?!"

Jazz beamed. "I'm a very good cult leader."

"Until I had to overthrow you for it," Danny snarked back.

Jazz continued, "Still, I had a good run being Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms until that happened, right?"

"The second only human in a seat of power within the Ghost Zone and also the only human to have completely changed the laws of the Infinite Realms? I'd say it's pretty good," Dani mused.

The rest of the Waynes & Co. stared at them in shock and confusion. None of the Nightingales seemed to think it was strange that Jazz Fenton, one of the Arkham psychiatrist and sister of Phantom, was a cult leader. And a successful one too.

Stephanie looked around and then asked, "So I'm not hallucinating this conversation, right?"

[rose-writes-for-march]

March for More: Are you... stuck?

MASTERPOST

Danny giggles, feeling the sand scrape against his underbelly as he shifts his tail slightly. He’s cramped where he lays under a reef with his fins all bunched up on the rocks. Moving removes only a smidge of his discomfort, but Danny refuses to move, not until he’s won his game.

���DANNY!” The yell calls out again, closer than it’s been in hours, and Danny has to cover his mouth when he sees a black and blue tail dart by his hiding spot. “Where are you, little one? It’s late; please come out!”

Danny thinks Dick sounds too worried for what is just a simple game of hide n’ seek. Though, the older mer is always worried for the silliest things. Just remembering how frantically Dick swims after him whenever he gets too far brings another, louder giggle bubbling up his throat.

For his laughter, Danny is faced with the black and blue tail just outside the opening. “Danny? Baby, was that you? Are you here?” Dick’s tail jerks and sways wildly as he swims around the coral, trying to find Danny’s spot. Danny forgets everything about being quiet to laugh after the third time he sees Dick swim by without seeing him. “Danny, this isn’t funny, please. We have to go!”

Danny still laughs, but he slides every so slightly forward, wincing as his tail catches on the rock. “You’re so silly! I’m right here, see?” He sticks his hand out right as Dick passes by, waving it with a giggle.

“Oh, baby, there you are! You had me worried sick, do you even know how long its been? You missed lunch and everyone has been searching for hours! How did you even get out this far…” Dick grumbles and whines, tail flicking in idle worry as he peers into Danny’s hiding spot. He pauses as he sees the conditions Danny has found himself in. “Are you… stuck?”

Danny huffs, “Of course not! I could’ve left at any point.”

“Right, okay, prove it.”

Danny glares at Dick’s self-assured smile and wiggles his tail, pressing his hands against the rock to push himself forward. “Ouch!” He hisses, relaxing his body to stop the pain in his back. Looking back, he can see a sharp protrusion of rock pressed into his back and wrapped in his fin from all his shuffling.

He can feel the whine in his throat and the answering coo from Dick. “Oh, baby, its okay. Let me help.” He reaches in as Danny ducks his head, gently untangling his fin. “You’ve got to be more careful, Danny. Your fins are still growing, they need gentle care or you won’t be able to swim with all the big mers one day.”

“I know…” he pouts, purring softly as Dick easily slips him out of his hiding spot. “But I was being chased, I didnt know what else to do…”

“Chased? That damn shark again, right? I’ll tell Bruce to deal with it, though maybe Jason is a better option…” Dick hums and haws as he holds Danny to his underbelly, swimming gently forward. Danny knows they’re heading back to the den, can smell his family as they get deeper into their territory.

The little mer lets his eyes close, tired from the exertion and long day. “You’ve gotta stay awake, baby. You still need to eat, remember?” Dick laughs softly, running his claws through Danny’s hair. “Oh, whatever. Sleep, I’ll wake you up once we’re back home.”

[ditzydoe444]

okay but im just thinking about perv!jay having to teach puppy!reader how to properly please him because she’s just so stupid and doesn’t know how to take a dick as big as his :(( and hes all mean about it too!! making her sputter and drool all over his dick when he teaches her how to take him or pinning her down with his weight as he literally splits her in half!!

— your (new) fav, 🍓 (if thats not taken!!)

MDNI 18+

pervet!jason x puppy!reader

jason todd smut

a/n: you’ve been added as 🍓 anon!! :))

“just gotta relax sweet thing,” jason cooed as he was in between your thighs, you laying on your back staring at him with your wide puppy eyes. “all you have to do is lay down and take it, don’t cry”, his hands rubbed against your thighs softly for reassurance despite his slightly mean tone.

“you’re gonna be fine,” he said lowly, as he nudged his fat tip towards your entrance. slowly, he sank an inch into you, your warm wet folds greeting him in. “so tight, not gonna be hard, just need you to be all dumb for me ok?” his hands gently squeezing your stomach. you were so goddamn right he could’ve came right there and then.

it was hard for jason to control himself, he was a big 6’5 man who was 250lbs, he could fuck you into oblivion if he wanted. though hearing your small pathetic whines broke him from his trance, remembering how you would struggle to take him in. “s-so big!” you whined, attempting to wiggle away, but jason had you pinned down.

“take it sweet thing, you’ve done it before,” it was true, you’ve taken him before, but that doesn’t make it any less harder. no matter the almost of foreplay could ever make you fully prepared for his sheer size. he was just too damn big. “j-jay!” you cried, the stretch was slightly painful, though the feeling of being filled by him was enough to make you roll your eyes back.

jason was not in the mood for your tears, all you had to do was lay there and take his cock like slut, clearly, you were too damn dumb and pathetic you couldn’t even do that. “you’re already halfway,” his voice sharp and deep. although, that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, “j-just halfway?” your eyes widen. your cunt was being stretched beyond possible, being split into half and he wasn’t even fully in?

jason let out a low chuckle, “i know, but you’re a big girl aren’t ya? you can take me.” jason knew how much you hated being looked down on, even though you struggled to take him in, you would never back down. “so damn dumb and can’t even take something as simple as dick,” jason grunted as he sank in, the remaining inches disappearing between your felt folds.

“j-jay!” you moaned pathetically, but jason didn’t care anymore, not when he could feel you clenching around him. “don’t ya dare fucking move, if you, i’ll pin you down and fuck you hard.” he warned, his tone was clearly not up for negotiation.

it wasn’t long before any type of self restraint was gone, jason balls deep in you, his thrusts hard and deep hitting all of your sweet spots. the room was filled with the bed creaking, your pathetic whines and skin slapping against each other. “such a dumb puppy aren’t ya?” he teased seeing how your eyes rolled, your mouth pathetically open in an ‘o’ shape. it was funny how dumb you could get just from his dick alone, and you were already so damn dumb to begin with.

“t-too big,” you whined as you started seeing stars from the sheer size of him. “and you are too damn dumb, shut up and take it,” he grunted, his thrusts harder as his balls hit your ass cheek.

“i love splitting this pretty little cunt open,” he groaned at the sight. “and i love its dumb owner.” you were his girl, his obedient sweetheart who would get fucked dumb beyond belief behind closed doors.

[fawnindawn]

Here We Go Again (Voices In His Head) - jason todd x reader

- you knew dating jason meant you would face trials, but an argument takes things too far. (angst to happy ending, i swear!/jason says mean things but he'll make it up to you <3)

When you first started dating Jason, he warned you many times that he had issues. There were some he told in short, quick breaths. The origins of scars he can't uncover to you, blood under his nails he can't quite be rid of, anger that never truly goes away. There were some you discovered yourself. He can't sleep with a blanket because it makes him feel suffocated, he flinches when there's construction in the neighbourhood, he shuts down and goes silent suddenly because of a patrol gone wrong.

"Don't shut me out, Jay."

He's been avoiding your gaze ever since he returned. You don't know what went wrong since his return from patrol, but there's that haunted look in his gaze, that clench in his jaw that shows its something he can't easily wash away.

"You won't understand." His voice is a cutting knife, with the carrying assumption heavy in the air. You never will. His eyes convey what hurts you most, the utter belief when he spits those words to your face.

Then why was it that you could read him like a book?

"How will you know if you won't let me try?" Your voice breaks, and you wish he could just let you in to prove him wrong.

There is a resigned expression on his face, filled with pity and self-hatred. You want to stop those thoughts that corrupt his will to find happiness, to see faults in every action he commits. To think the burden to save Gotham is on his shoulders because he's the only one that dares to do what others can't.

"You think I can't handle it." You know it's wrong to assume but when silence and vague words are the only companions you have in this conversation, you can't help but think it. "I was born and raised here too, Jason. I know what happens on our streets, I know that everyday, you try your best, but what ever happened today-"

"-Is nothing you have ever seen." He snaps, cutting you off as he finally looks at you, fire in his eyes. "You hear these things, from the news- from me, but you've never seen it for yourself. The children who died for nothing, those who deserve to die that rot in their mansions like pigs. Everything that's hidden from the public eye that continues to worsen every single day that I fail. That is why you'll never understand."

Flashes of everything the two of you have been through together, feels like it's being pushed further and further away. "What's the point then? Approaching me, letting me love you, and pushing it all away? Breaking what we built?"

He stares, watching you like you're out of reach. HIs fingers twitch, and his mouth nearly speaks the words needed to stop this fight. To bring you back into his arms. I love you. That's why.

"I don't know."

A beat. Then another. The silence stretches throughout your home, and of all the answers in the world, he chose the one dagger to stab you in the heart.

"You are afraid." You mutter, numb and empty. If he wants to treat you as an outsider to his life, you can't stop him. "You don't think I understand that you're pushing me away because you think it will protect me from your pain, but I do. I know you, Jason, and that doesn't stop me from loving you."

You see the flinch in his gaze, and the regret ready to pour out of his mouth.

"But you win." Your mouth tastes bitter with the admission. "I give in. I surrender. If you are determined it will end this way, I can't help you. Not till you see it for yourself, that the only reason I'm leaving is because you gave me no other choice."

Your feet move out the door, out of the home you share, and he doesn't stop you.

Six months pass like time is a fragmented concept, leaves curling and falling down the pavements, colouring the city a murky brown. It's a funny thing, how someone so deeply ingrained into your mind, fades from the city as if he never existed. As if he was a conjuring of your own imagination, you start to wonder if the phantom sting in your heart is the only evidence left of your time with him.

You do your best to ignore the betrayal that creeps up your throat on days when you swear you spot his shadow lingering near bus stops, or on your walks home, only to be reminded that he doesn't care enough to even show up to your door. You swallow back the sobs that threaten to escape you at night, you bury him in the back of your mind and you try to sleep, knowing that he used to lay his head beside yours at night.

It's late, and you're still tossing and turning, trying to fall asleep when you hear a knock at your window. You pause in your fretting, frozen to what couldn't be- Yes, it's that familiar, steady knock, three times on the glass which you both agreed to. It's been months. He can't possibly be here. Still, your body is a traitor to your mind, rushing at the familiarity, with a sickening hope towards your window. The familiar red helmet greets you, as well as the crimson blood staining his jacket.

When he slips in, you hate how your mind works in clockwork routine, grabbing the emergency kit as he slides down the wall, gripping his wound. The quiet has never rung so loud, deafeningly thick with questions raised in the air.

"It isn't fair." You spoke through the thick of the silence. "Coming to me because you know I'll open the door. After being quiet for months, after everything-"

"Six months, eight days, twenty hours." He cuts you off. His helmet is laying beside him, and you have a clear sight to a smile so wounded, and eyes so resigned as he looks at you. "If we're to be exact."

Your steps falter, and you starting to lean towards the possibility that you're hallucinating him, too tired from work, too tired to push away your vulnerability when it comes to him. Yet, even with a tired blink and a tightened grip on the metal box in your hand, he's still there in your view, and you've already kneeled down in front of him, taking in the blood on his hands.

You don't respond, because what is there to say to the revelation that he's kept track of the very day you turned your back on him. Instead, you lift his shirt to assess the wound. It's not one worth coming all the way to your apartment in the freezing cold, merely a deep scratch that gashed his skin, but nothing he couldn't take care of himself. An excuse, a lure, or maybe you're just thinking too much whenever it's about him.

Your eyes snap to his, questioning with your gaze. He knows he's caught, but he doesn't seem to care.

"I've been an idiot. A major dickhead." He breathes out, eyes lingering over your features, frantically taking all of you in. It's a hungry, desperate look that contrasts everything you've believed in the past months of torture. That he's forgotten you. "That day, I chose every possible wrong decision to hurt you, when you were the one I wanted to see most."

He clenches his jaw before he speaks again. "A child died in my arms that day."

Your eyes widen, and you feel guilt consume you for leaving him alone that day. "Jason-"

"No, I know what you're thinking, but don't think for a second about apologising when I didn't communicate to you properly." His gaze is serious as he continues. "My behaviour was awful, when you had only wanted to make sure I was okay, I pushed you away."

He looks at you, gaze softening. "You do understand me, and I was so afraid of feeling seen by you the same way I see myself, that I pushed you away. I lost you, and you were damn right to leave for the way I treated you."

You're silent, his confession too much, too sudden, too him. You had thought with time, your memories of him, the anguish in your heart would fade. Having him in front of you, carrying that same weight in his gaze that tells you more than words can speak, you can't deny just how much you've missed him. Tears leak out from your eyes, and you're sure you look a horrible mess, but he only wipes your tears gently.

"My biggest regret is that I should've ran after you. No, I shouldn't have even let you go without telling you that I love you." His fingers are shaking as he caresses your face. "I may be right about being broken, but that shouldn't have excused me from making myself the right man for you."

"I don't deserve your forgiveness, or your love. You can treat me like absolute shit, and I will take it all. But I will work every single day, till my last breath, to make sure you never doubt that you are loved, because you deserve to know that if anything I know about love, it is you."

"I love you. And no apology will ever be enough to change the fact that you didn't feel it from me." His voice is so raw, so choked with anguish, and this might be the closest semblance to tearing his heart out for you. "Will you still have me, if I promise you that if you ever feel like I screwed something up, you can shoot me in the head?"

You choke back a laugh through your sobs, hitting him in the chest, and he grabs hold of your hand, a warm, steady grip as he brings it to his lips and presses the softest kiss onto your skin. You steady your breath, before you finally speak again. "If you ever screw up, I promise you that you'll face much worse that a headshot."

He smiles, practically aglow as he leans in, nose brushing yours. "Make that a promise, sweetheart."

"And we're going to have a proper talk when you're all patched up, got it?"

He nods diligently, and your heart delights at the sight of him so obedient. "Anything you want." He drawls.

You see his eyes flicker to your lips, but he's holding back. Waiting for you.

"Are you going to kiss me?"

Your teasing words barely leave your mouth before he kisses you. It feels just like the first time, sweet and desperate, and you swear you can feel his promise sealed upon your lips. That this time, he won't let go.

[ahqkas]

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

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

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

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

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

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

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

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

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

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

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

the idea to shop at costco was his.

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

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

“we do now.”

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

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

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

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

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

. . . JASON TODD !

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

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

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

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

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

jason ate like he was the entire boy scout troop.

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

[gay-dorito-dust]

Batboys with reader who has a silly collection of stickers and puts them over their faces, their suits or their weapons (most of them with silly encouraging phrases to cheer them up lol)

Dick

He bought you a set of stickers once and ever since it’s been his ultimate downfall but in the most humorous way possible.

Dick has a sense of humour, he didn’t mind a couple of stickers here and there, even going so far as to keep the cute cartoon mushroom stickers that you’ve left on his escrema sticks as your personal touch on his belongings.

He even once woke up to a face full of them and when he asked your reasoning as to why, you only shrugged your shoulders and said ‘I thought it’d be funny to see how many stickers I can put on your face without waking you up.’

Dick takes the whole thing in stride and in good faith and loves the fact that you went out of your way to cheer him up through your cute but inspirational stickers. It was almost as though you knew that he needed a little pick me up that day and did so tenfold by coating his hands in stickers that reminded him of your deep care for him and his mental health.

So nowadays Dick doesn’t mind waking up just to see his face covered in stickers and instead smiles and goes about his daily routine as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Jason removed his red helmet from his hand and could only stare at the stickers that littered across the sides and back either a blank stare as Roy practically pissed himself with laughter.

‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, how did I not see this?’ Jason muttered under his breath, scratching at sticker of a cartoon Robin holding a stick in its beak.

‘Oh there’s nothing to be ashamed of in a little self expression Jason,’ Roy snickered, ‘but I didn’t peg you as the type to collect stickers and cute ones at that.’ He then points to a particular sticker on his helmet of a cat hanging from a branch followed by the saying; just hang in there.

‘piss off.’ Jason told him. He knew something was a miss but didn’t know what it was and now that he knew, everything was starting to make a bit more sense. For starters you didn’t kiss his helmet like you usually did before he left of patrol, almost as though you didn’t want to ruin something on his helmet that he didn’t see, at least not at that point in time.

He should’ve known because you’ve pulled this stint with his guns before in the past but what you didn’t know was that he kept a few that were now a little worn and faded. So while he appear a little peeved that you have took it upon yourself to decorate his helmet, he was a sentimental guy deep down who loved anything and everything you’ve given him and treasures it with his entire heart.

Jason’s a secret sap when it comes to you and knows that he’ll come to laugh at all this at a later date as he recalls all of it to you when he comes home, already envisioning your reaction when he’d inevitably calls you out on it, knowing that he could never stay mad at you for very long. He physically couldn’t and refuses to when all you were trying to do was lift his spirits.

You were too sweet for him but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Damian

Wants you to take them off at first, how was he meant to be taken seriously if he was covered head to toe in stickers, ridiculous.

He thinks them childish unfortunately

However when you do stop putting your stickers across every one of his belongings for a brief stint, he begins to realise the true intended purpose behind them, and would begin to leave subtle hints that he wanted you to go back to coating everything he owned in stickers in his own way of apologising.

He’s stubborn but he cares for you and what you meant to him and if planting stickers on the sheath of his sword on the premise to uplift his spirits, then who was he to stop you from doing so. He wasn’t use to someone going out of their way to try and cheer him up and was more use to isolating himself from everyone in his room and just draw out his innermost feelings.

So you covering his face, suit and or weapons with stickers with cute and uplifting words was something he needed time to get use to, but once he does he tries to keep the stickers that had long served their purpose within the pages of his sketch pad as a keepsake of your thoughtfulness towards him.

This portion of his sketch pad is kept under a lot of secrecy on his part but you find it eventually because of course you do.

Damian wasn’t use to someone caring about him as much as you did and in a more unique way than littering the hilt of his sword in stickers made to make his day just that a little better. Damian, much like Jason, keeps a sticker or two on his weapons but in places where it would be harder for others to spot and would run his thumb over it whenever he felt that he needed your presence.

Tim doesn’t mind you putting stickers on his stuff, he’s pretty much unbothered by it and would just accept the fact that this was your way of saying that you’re thinking of him and his well-being. Tim knew you well enough to understand what you were trying to say through your stickers from the stickers you used consistently.

However due to his egregious sleep schedule lead to many instances where he would wake up to his face covered entirely in stickers, and at first he thought it was the lack of sleep that was making him see things but soon realised that his face was indeed covered in stickers, and would silently stare at you through the mirror as you tried hard not to laugh.

He threatens to plaster your face with stickers next time, he does follow up on his promise but that’s a story for another time.

To Tim it was almost as if you had just made up an entirely new way of communication through stickers, he’s even got them categorised based on their subliminal messages and what you were trying to tell him through them.

He appreciates the stickers and would even find himself smiling at them on the odd occasion and run his fingers over them gingerly as to not accidentally peel one of them off. He loved your unique way of cheering him up and would get a little sad when he sees that someone them were starting to fade or become worn, only to feel a warmth spread throughout his chest when he saw new stickers next to the places of the old ones.

Each and every sticker had it’s sentimental significance to him and if Tim were to ever find out that you didn’t have anymore stickers to spare, he would buy you more sets and act like he didn’t have any part in this despite the parcel having his name on it.

[l0vergirls]

just a little something that's been on my mind for a while now, like it's actually rotting my brain.

cw: stalking, a bit nsfw near the end, just general yandere stuff, not proof-read!!!!! so sorry if its a bit messy !!!!

★ (romantic) yandere!batfam x reader

imagine being the shared darling of the batfam.

it only takes one of them for the rest to fall in love with you, too.

let's say you meet tim during one of the days he actually decides to go to class, and he's thanking the heavens he did.

slowly, he starts to integrate himself into your daily life, and into your friend group. they all love him, of course. who wouldn't love the kind, funny, and handsome tim drake?

during all of this, he'd already told his brothers about you, and because they can't hide anything from bruce, he finds out about you too. unsurprisingly, they come to appreciate you as much as tim has.

and suddenly, you get a particularly handsome new neighbour in the apartment across from you (which you didn't know was even up for rent) and somehow always seems to be in the middle of stripping when you're home. almost as if he can feel your eyes on him. of course, you make sure not to get caught, and avert your eyes as soon as the cloth leaves his waist.

later, you find out his name is jason, and make a good friend out of him. he smokes on his balcony, while you drink coffee on yours.

barely a week after that, you get a new regular at the café you work at. his name's dick grayson. he says it's probably best for you to yell out his last name for his orders too. he's a detective, which explains the late nights he comes into the café. he's always got a stupidly handsome smile on his face, which only adds onto his neverending charm.

and during the occasion that you're walking home alone, you always seem to run into one of the many vigilantes that guard gotham.

you meet both batman and robin during one of your walks home. you're not scared of them, as most people are; you're merely fascinated at the tall figure that towers over you, and his more colourful counterpart that is also taller than you. robin seems to be just a couple years younger than you. and batman... you can't seem to get a read on the man.

you greet them both as calmly as you can, a small smile on your lips. you get nods of acknowledgment from both of them, which you suppose is the most you're getting.

batman doesn't seem to like that you're walking alone, so he sends robin to walk you home. you don't understand why, and you tell them you've walked this route many times already, that they probably have worse things to take care of.

he tells you that you can never be too sure in gotham. with the way he says it, in that gravelly tone, you can't find yourself to disagree.

on your walk, now with robin's company, you feel safer. you also find out this robin is a man of few words, very unlike the last few robins yet much like batman.

the next night, you run into red robin, who has an air of familiarity around him. he's real friendly— in fact, it's almost like talking to a friend. you think you've seen his smile before.

the night after that, you meet nightwing in all of his spandex-clad glory. he's charming, almost flirty.

and for a week, you don't bump into any of the vigilantes, but you do feel watched. you should be frightened, by all means, but you have a feeling deep in your stomach that tells you they won't hurt you. whoever they are.

you see red hood after that week. he's the more intimidating one of the bunch, you reckon. you've nothing to be scared of, knowing he (along with all the others) only goes after the real awful people. you're not guilty of anything, as far as you know.

his voice is almost robotic, as if being run through a voice changer. it doesn't do much to help his image, though you suppose that's the point. he asks what a little thing like you is doing walking around these parts. you say you're just heading home, like all the times you've met one of them.

he lets you on his motorcycle. if you were paying enough attention, maybe you would've felt his heart beating a mile a minute.

your days go on like this for a while. class, work, walk home with one of gotham's protectors. rinse and repeat.

unbeknownst to you, cameras have been planted all around your apartment. in many angles of your bedroom too, save for your bathroom. they've decided to give you privacy in there. no matter how much dick begged.

though they do have clips saved of you walking around in just a towel, or your underwear. god knows what they're doing with those.

but truly, can you blame them? you've invaded the deepest crevices of their minds, your smell lingering on their noses, and the shape of your lips following them in their dreams.

oh, they can vividly see— almost feel your lips on theirs, and they wonder what you look like when your face is scrunched up from pleasure, as their fingers enter you.

but they'll have to wait a little longer. and they'll be damned if they lose you, when you're playing right into their hands.

this got so long !!!! i had to let this all out somewhere <//3 definitely gonna add more but i needed to cut it off at this 😭😭😭😭

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 1

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm not even much of a DC fan, but Jason Todd has quickly become my latest hyper fixation character (Harley Quinn too, do I just have a thing for Joker victims???) so ... thank you for giving me a place to put this energy I guess! 😂 I'm not super confident on the characterizations, but I'm going with it because I like it. If it's wildly ooc ... that tracks, given that the only DC comic I've read is Batman: Wayne Family Adventures. Read it, or don't, I just needed to get the thoughts out of my head. The art doesn't belong to me, but the writing does. Please do not post elsewhere!

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, starting out fluffy, will probably get NSFW later so minors DNI, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

word count: 1.7k

Chapter Selection

In a city known for its masked fighters, you learn pretty quickly that everyone and everything is a potential threat. Every approaching stranger on the street, every loud sound behind you, every dark alleyway. Being bigger than me certainly isn't a prerequisite to being a danger, but it does have a way of setting off my mental alarms. I've found that big men are used to getting their way, and they get all sorts of bent out of shape if you deny them their wishes. Especially when they think they're doing you a favor.

It died down a bit after high school; I learned to exist in public with ‘fuck off’ stamped across my face. Headphones on, reading a book, intentionally seated at the table furthest from the other cafe patrons. All the typical signs of someone who wants to be left alone; nothing about me said ‘please come talk to me'. So I was understandably on edge when I noticed someone standing by the chair across from me. I look up just a bit, gesturing to the chair with a nod. Silent consent to take it back to his table and leave me to my book.

No such luck. The man simply smiled and mimed taking headphones off. Putting a bored look on my face, I moved one off my ear. “... Hm?”

“Hi! I'm sorry to bother you, but my brother thinks you're really beautiful and is refusing to come tell you himself.” 

I could feel my expression turning to stone. “... What is this, middle school?”

His cheerful grin faltered ever so slightly; “hey, I know it's a bit silly, but he's awkward around cute girls, so what's a brother to do, ya know?”

I stared him down; “... You're not fooling anyone. Move on.”

“... Sorry, ‘fooling anyone’?”

“It’s not funny, it’s not even hurtful the 20th time, it's just annoying. Go. Away.” It was a lie; it was always painful to be on the receiving end of these pranks. But that was what these guys wanted, so I wasn't going to tell him that. My headphones back in place, the guy slunk away.

Ten minutes later, another person was standing by the chair. I pretended not to see him, continuing to read my book, until he plopped down in the seat. I looked up slowly and he smiled, another oddly warm smile, leaning forward on his elbows.

An incredibly put-out sigh later, I slid the headphones off one ear again. “What?”

“Hi, I'm Tim! I'm not sure what exactly my brother said to you, but I wanted to let you know - we're not trying to prank you or something. Our brother is just way too awkward with girls. It's painful to watch, really, so we figured we'd give him a hand.” He spoke much too fast for me to get a word in. I blinked a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“... You frat boys are really committing to the bit these days, huh?”

“Huh? No, really, I promise!”

My headphones were nearly back into place when a child showed up. His impatient expression matched how I felt about the whole situation. “As usual, Drake, your plans are far too convoluted to be effective. Watch and learn.”

He turned to me, nothing about his demeanor changing; “hello. Todd said we shouldn't bother you because you ‘clearly want to be alone’, but I am convinced the only way to stop their nonsense is if he comes over. May he have a moment of your time?”

Frowning a little, I stared at the kid. He stared right back, neither of us blinking for a solid minute as we sussed each other out. His expression barely changed, but the boredom in his eyes turned into determination. “... Well, you're definitely not a frat boy. So I'll make you a deal; you may report back that he has permission to come say hi. If he doesn't choose to, that's the end of this little charade. And if either of them” I gestured to the one sitting at my table; “comes back over here, I start stabbing. Got it?”

The boy nodded once, and I thought I saw a ghost of a smirk. “You have my word.” He dragged the other man out of the chair by his shirt, pulling him stumbling toward their table. That was when I saw him. The only person at their table who hadn't come over yet. Even hunched over the table he was enormous, probably close to six feet tall; exactly the kind of man I typically avoided. The kid spoke sharply, pointing in my direction, and his head shot up to look in my direction. Even from across the spacious patio, I could see his face turning red. The obnoxious, cocky smirk I was expecting to see was entirely missing; instead he seemed almost confused.

Headphones back on but turned off so I could hear if he approached, I returned to my book. But I only got through a few pages before the first one shouted; “and offer to get her another coffee or something!”

I looked over to see the tall one frozen halfway between our tables, a look on his face like he was considering jumping over the patio fence to get away. His demeanor reminded me of a lost puppy, and I couldn't help the chuckle that rose up out of my throat. I bookmarked my page, set the book aside, and slid my headphones down around my neck. I really thought he was about to bolt until I lifted one hand, curling my fingers to gesture for him to continue toward me.

He stopped short by a good several feet, eyeing the distance between himself and the chair, and took one extra step back. It seemed as if he was hyper aware of just how much he loomed over me; the way he stood was like he was trying to will himself to be smaller, and he kept his hands at his sides. “Um … hi. … Sorry, this is … this is really weird …”

I nodded, watching him. “It is a bit. … Todd, was it?”

“Jay… Jason.”

“Not Todd?”

“Jason Todd. Damian calls me Todd, he thinks using people's last names keeps them at an arm's length…” Jason Todd. The name felt familiar, but I couldn't place why. He continued to ramble about how important tone was in determining whether this Damian kid was referring to you with affection or disdain, and I watched him. He was admittedly very cute; he had a sort of a bad boy aesthetic -leather jacket, dark clothes, a white streak in his hair, some unusual scars on his face and arms-, which juxtaposed interestingly with the gentleness in his voice, bright eyes, and awkward mannerisms. That was actually the thing that made the most sense about this situation; bikers are often secret teddy bears.

“... Jason?”

He looked up at me, one hand sheepishly making its way into his hair. “Yeah, sorry, you want me to go. I'll get them to stop harassing you, so sorry-”

“Actually, I was going to say you don't have to stand the whole time.” I gestured to the chair across from me.

He hesitated, watching me. “... Y- you don't want me to go?”

I smiled softly and shook my head. “Sit?”

He quickly obeyed, a hesitant smile on his face, which was almost immediately hidden by his hand when his brothers whooped from their table. “... God, I'm so sorry … th- they mean well, really, they're not trying to be weird …”

I laughed softly, “it's fine, that's what siblings do, right?”

“... I guess so … I've been sort of … away for a while, but I guess this is pretty standard sibling behavior. … Right?”

“I mean, a little more insistent than mine, but not too far outside the realm of what I’d consider normal.” I shrugged, finishing my chai latte.

He smiled slightly, considering that. “... Hm … um … c- can I get you another?” He gestured to my cup.

“... Sure, I've got time.”

The pleased grin on his face as he looked away to flag down a server surprised me. Then again, everything about him was surprising. Still, no one had ever looked at me quite like that before… 

The server sauntered over, clearly curious about my new companion. Jason smiled brightly; “Hi, can we get another for the lady? And I'll have a medium black coffee, sweet, please.”

Huh. He called me a ‘lady’. Not a girl, or a chick, a lady. That was … also surprising. We chatted for a little while, sipping our coffees, and tried to ignore his staring brothers. He was incredibly awkward, in a sweet, endearing way. I got the impression that he wasn't fully comfortable, but chalked it up to how weirdly this all started. After a while, the first one returned, a small grimace on his face.

I raised an eyebrow; “I'm pretty sure I told the little one that the next one of you to come over was getting stabbed.”

“I know, I know! I'm so sorry, but Jay, we gotta go. Bruce texted…”

That was when it clicked; why I knew the name Jason Todd. He was a Wayne … his death had dominated the news cycle for a week. His miraculous, frankly poorly explained, return was the story for at least two.

He looked, torn, between me and his brother. “Oh … um …”

The man I finally recognized as Dick Grayson leaned forward and fake-whispered, “the words you're looking for are ‘can I have your phone number'?”

Jason swatted him away, blushing bright red; “Seriously, Dick? … well, can I-”

His ears were turning red as I held my hand out for his phone. I added my contact info and, feeling unusually bold, I added ☕💖 after my name while Jason dropped a couple of bills on the table; I smiled a bit, realizing he was leaving enough to cover my first drink for me too. I passed his phone back, enjoying the look of wonder on his face when he checked the screen. The way he whispered my name, like a prayer meant only for god's ears, had my stomach doing backflips.

“thanks … I'll call you?”

“Sounds good. I'm a night owl, so not too early, yeah?”

He nodded eagerly. “Not too early, promise.”

Next ->

[gothamite-rambler]

Tim (putting the book in Jason's backpack): We got the book. It was really easy, Ra's just told me to take it and leave fast.

Jason: You think he's annoyed when we visit?

Tim: His reaction didn’t suggest that.

Damian paced the room, his hands fidgeting impatiently as he glanced around with mounting worry.

Damian (panicked): Come on, come on! We have to hurry!

Tim (confused): We’re not in a rush… right?

Dick: No. Damian, why are you so eager to leave? This is your home; I thought you’d want to look around a little.

Damian (tapping his foot): I already walked down memory lane when we got here. I’m over it! We have to go!

Jason chuckled.

Jason (correctly guessing): I’m pretty sure he’s worried Talia will spot him.

Damian bit his fingernail, scanning for a secret escape route.

Dick: That makes sense. I did feel a chill in the air.

Damian: That's not funny, Grayson. We have to go! There is no way she's close— The footsteps of a terrifying spirit are approaching.

The sound of heels echoed through the halls, growing closer like a dinosaur searching for its prey or a mother about to smother her son with hugs and kisses.

Suddenly, the door to the room was kicked in. Thinking quickly, Damian used Tim as a shield, standing behind him like a pillar to avoid being spotted.

Talia (eager): Damian! Habibi, give your mother a hug! Where is he?

Talia strode into the room, shoving Dick aside as she searched behind him.

Talia (attitude): Grayson, where did you hide my son?

Dick (waving): Hi, Talia! Good to see you.

Talia: Don’t ignore what I asked.

Dick: I didn’t, it’s just customary to greet someone, not assault them.

Talia: Oh please, that was barely an assault. You're just as weak as I’ve told others.

Dick (calmly pointing at Talia's nose): You have a booger sticking out of your nose. It’s pretty noticeable.

Talia covered her nose, blushing slightly. Recovering, she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped her nose while scanning the room.

Talia: Where is my baby? I must hug my child!

Dick (feigning innocence): He’s not here. At all.

Jason was unable to respond, too busy laughing at the absurdity of it all. As Talia scanned the room, Damian turned Tim’s body to keep himself hidden. Balling up her handkerchief, Talia tossed it at Dick.

Talia: Hold this, since you noticed, ass-man.

Dick dodged, but being a good brother, he stood in front of her to block her path.

Talia (holding out her arms): Usfour, come out of your hiding spot! I just want to hug you and shower you with affection. It’s what a good mother does, and I’m at least semi-okay. Grayson, my foot will be making contact with your little dick if you don’t move.

Dick: If you kick me, I'm telling my dad.

Talia: You would do that! You have never matured.

Dick: Honey, you have?

Dick and Talia bickered as Jason texted on his phone, while Damian stayed hidden behind Tim.

Damian (whispering): Don’t tell her where I am.

Tim (lying): I got your back.

Tim raised his hand in a mock gesture of surrender.

Tim: He’s over here, Talia!

He stepped aside and playfully shoved Damian forward. As soon as Talia spotted him, she squealed.

Talia (shoving Dick out of her way): Move, ass-man!

Damian (angrily to Tim): You mother—

Talia rushed over and enveloped her son in a tight hug, causing him to squirm and gasp for air. She moaned happily, snuggling him with a wide smile.

Damian (glaring at a grinning Tim): Drake, I will make you pay for this.

Tim (indifferent): Totally worth it for now.

Talia: And I appreciate you for that, Drake. I knew I had a reason to dislike you less! You’re smart, unlike the adult brats who try to deprive me of my time with my usfour.

Jason: In my defense, I raised him for eight years, and this is all funny.

Dick: And I loathe you.

Talia: Glad our feelings are mutual then, Grayson. Now, Damian, I’ve missed you so much! You’re still so adorable! Oh, those cheeks are still so soft. Let me give you some kisses!

She kissed Damian on the forehead and then nuzzled her nose against his cheek while humming. He kicked his feet, trying to escape, but her grip was like that of a python wrapping around its prey.

Damian (whining): Mother, you’re embarrassing me! And you smell too much like lavender!

Talia: Shush, let me love you! I love you!

Talia kissed Damian again on the forehead.

Talia: I love, love you, my baby! And I know you love me too.

Damian: Can you go back to being mean and insane? I miss that!

Damian groaned as he heard his amused brothers mocking him, deepening his frustration.

Damian (suppressed rage): The moment we get home, I’m going to deal with all of you. Mother, we need to leave—

Talia: You can take care of whatever it is in a few minutes. Let’s go see Grandpa! I know he tried to hurry you and your brothers out of the castle, but I convinced him to see how much you’ve grown. He has a gift for you too.

Damian: I don’t wanna!

Talia: It’ll be quick. I swear! Ever since I’ve been striving to be a better mama, I feel so much lighter. My mind is clearer, my fighting is more agile, and I still have my rivalry with Grayson. My sworn enemy, and the reason I’m not with Bruce.

Dick: Your therapist is either lying to you, or you’re not listening.

Jason: Dude, stop! I’m going to die from laughter.

Talia: Ignoring you both. Let’s go, Dami!

Talia giggled, dropping Damian and grabbing his leg instead, preventing his escape.

Damian (screaming): No, no! He smells like mothballs! Mother, please!

Talia ignored his protests and dragged him away from his brothers. As Damian's screams echoed through the halls, the brothers were left in the room, processing what they had just witnessed.

Tim (perplexed): That was clingy… and adorable. Do I miss my mom that much?

Dick and Jason (relating): Yeah.

Tim: Hm, I accept that. Talia is like a villain, but not an evil mother anymore. What changed?

Jason: From what I remember Ra's telling me, after Nyssa kept killing Talia and putting her in a different Lazarus Pit, driving her insane, he put her dead body in his pit. When she woke up, she was the same but different. She had an epiphany, like she met her "maker." They told her not to be a bad person to her child, to be a better mom, or the pits of hell would welcome her and never let her go.

Dick (speculating): Why is she still an asshole, though?

Jason and Tim: Because neither of you like each other.

Dick (prideful): Yeah, the balance of the universe would unravel if we liked each other. At least I'm glad she replaced her violence with smothering love for Damian.

Tim: You think the "maker" was her own mom?

Jason (agreeing): In this mad world? Probably. But that was entertaining at least.

Tim nodded, but wondered about a missing person in their group.

Tim: Why isn't Bruce here?

Dick: Ra despises him, and he feels the same way about Ra.

Jason: Right, and Ra's made it clear they’d fight to the death if Bruce set foot in here, and not just toss him into the pit. Bruce said he'd break every bone in Ra's body and make him wish he was dead. There was a lot of tension after Talia went murder hobo insane. Just our usual family dynamics.

Tim: Cool, I get that. Want to check out his skull collection?

Dick: Sure, I’m down.

Jason: Did he update it?

Tim: Yep! He’s added the spines of his enemies too. One of the maids here can give us apple fritters she made as well.

With that, the brothers quietly slipped away as Damian's protests faded into the distance, still audible as Talia hugged him. Ra, the eccentric grandpa, was about to launch into another tangent about the world’s problems.

usfour- little bird

habibi- term of endearment Arabian parents use for their child

[the-s1lly-corner]

Since you said spam is okay for now I'll send the other half of this after :3

Slashers x reader who calls everything they do cute! They can be covered in blood and gore but the reader will still call them cute!

Various Slashers x reader who always calls them cute

God I love white cheddar snacks which is weird because I dont like eating straight up cheese

Characters: Jason, Bubba, Michael

Notes: reader is GN, reader is.... a little silly... not silly funny but definitely silly

CWs: canon typical violence and death

JASON

when its during the normal day to day life? he loves it! truly he does! but.... when hes covered in blood, he doesnt quite know how to feel... you think hes cute like this? really?

he does something that warrants a compliment but isnt exactly cute- such as chopping wood or lifting something heavy or just generally doing non-killing work around the place... gives a slight pause after you call him cute

it does make him feel nice about himself, not just because you think hes visually cute! you think he acts cute, too, and thats actually really assuring for him because he knows hes a big scary dude! hes not the most gentle and hes hyper aware of the fact he can accidentally kill you, hes not exactly used to tenderly handling another human being!

you dont find him intimidating is what he means!

BUBBA

you can see his ears go bright red when you call him cute while he carves up some meat for later... his knuckles turn white as he grips the chainsaw and he just... ehehehe...

thinks about it for a long long time, he never gets used to it no matter how many times you call him cute. definitely the type to kick his feet just a little bit while hes sitting down

grips his apron if you call him that while his hands are empty- shifts the material around in his hands as his mouth moves and curls... he never says anything but you know hes thinking nice things

doesnt care what the context is he will get happy anytime you call him it, he could be in the middle of disemboweling someone and you will give him pause

MICHEAL

confused head tilt. him? cute? yeah sure... hes already letting you stay alive and get close to him, why not go ahead and poke the bear!/hj/lh

never really addresses it and he doesnt seem to feel much way about it outside of the initial confusion, at least hes not stopping you or growing cold towards you

you catch him washing blood off of himself and he just blankly stares at you as you tell him hes a cutie pie

that being said he does dislike being called a cutie patootie. he doesnt hurt you but the stare he gives you hits different, and if you try again he simply.. puts his hand on your mouth

[august-anon]

Could we please have a fic

Where Tim is still adjusting to being a lil bro and he's still a bit nervous around Jason because the RH incident and Jason is fully aware that his lil bro is scared of him, and then Dick, (very purposefully) tells Jason that Tim is ticklish. Jason decides to use this information.

editing? who's she? (aka i was too lazy to edit a 5.5K tickle fic i just wanted to post it jksdhsdjfh)

also, seeing as my life is consumed by DC/esp the Batfam right now i was compelled to actually do my research for this fic and i went and found teen titans volume 3 #29 and looked through their fight. and dont get me wrong i love a good titans tower fic, tim drake is The whumpable character ever, but it is SO FUNNY to me the way fandom has apparently blown this so out of proportion because skimming that fight between the two it was literally like. the vigilante equivalent of squaring up behind the Waffle House at 3am while Jason is wearing a Party City Robin outfit sdjfhdsfj it was so unserious, he was definitely a theater kid lol, Tim wasn't even busted up that bad the worst he had was a bloody nose and maybe a concussion from the final blow lol

so i leaned more into the canon energy of it (snarky Tim who held his own decently well) because i think the whole fanon "he-almost-murdered-me-and-i'm-traumatized-and-terrified" energy leans into a fear dynamic that i am not necessarily comfortable exploring in a fluffy tickle fic? so i hope that's alright and that you still enjoy this fic even though i didnt full lean into that "scared of jason" energy i think you were looking for!

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Brothers Forged in Laughter

Fandom: Batfamily (no specific source material/continuity -- though i do briefly reference Teen Titans volume 3 #29)

Ship(s): Gen!!! Platonic!! Familial!! No batcest here

Characters (lee/ler): Lee!Tim & Ler!Jason (plus a very brief Ler!Dick)

Word Count: 5623 words

Summary: Tim wasn’t Jason's little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. But, well, the kid was kind of asking for it at this point. Maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

[ao3 link]

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Developing an unspoken sort of truce with the Bats had not been on Jason’s to-do list when he returned to Gotham, especially after his little trip to Titan’s Tower or the explosive confrontation between him, Bruce, and the Joker. Really, Jason blamed Dick. He was like a leech, it was impossible to shake him once he got his teeth sunk in.

Still, it had its benefits. He didn’t have to worry about getting arrested and thrown in Arkham anymore, for one. Not to mention, the Bats left Crime Alley well alone now (bar an Arkham breakout), leaving the neighborhood to Jason’s expertise. But most of all: access to the Batcave.

Jason didn’t necessarily enjoy his visits to the Cave, but there were things that Bruce’s money could buy that Jason had difficulty getting his hands on. For instance, the state-of-the-art lab that was hooked up to the Batcomputer and all its insane processing speed. 

With Batman publicly off on a JL mission and no risk of running into Bruce, Jason didn’t hesitate breaking into the Batcave (was it really breaking in if they never deactivated Jason’s codes in the first place? Jason liked to think so) to study a concoction from his latest Scarecrow copy-cat that thought Crime Alley made a great testing ground. It was just his luck that the little replacement Robin happened to be down in the Cave at the same time, drowning in an oversized hoodie and staring down one of the Batcomputer’s monitors with bloodshot eyes. One of his arms was in a sling, but Jason didn’t keep track of the Bats’ cases enough to know what had caused the injury. He was more wilted than the oregano plant Jason had forgotten at one of his lesser-used safehouses. And, more importantly, he was in Jason’s way.

“Pretty sure little birdies are meant to be resting when their wings get clipped,” Jason called out as he walked up the steps toward the Batcomputer.

The line of Tim’s shoulders went taught as his head snapped around to glare at Jason. “I’m pretty sure zombie crime lords are supposed to stick to Crime Alley.”

Jason held up his sample of knock-off toxin, shaking the liquid inside. “Wouldn’t exactly be here if I didn’t have to.”

Tim’s lips pressed into a thin line as he huffed a breath out through his nose. “Fine.”

Jason rolled his eyes as he turned toward the mass spectrometer, fumbling a bit to set it up properly. It’d been a while since he’d had to use one, and the one in the Cave was a lot newer than the one he’d used as Robin. It didn’t help that the back of his neck burned from the eyes boring into it.

“Don’t need a babysitter, y’know.”

“Like I’m leaving you in the Cave unsupervised.”

Jason scoffed. “What am I gonna do, poison your juice boxes?” The machine finally started running rounds of analysis, so Jason spun around to lean against it, locking his eyes onto Tim. And the stack of soda cans next to him. “Or your Zesti, apparently. Alfred lets you drink all that shit?”

Tim stayed silent, narrowing his eyes.

Jason lit up. “He doesn’t, does he?” He laughed, eyeing the pile of empty cans again. “Maybe we should call him down right now, what do you say?”

Jason started towards Tim and the Batcomputer, only meaning to ruffle his hair, maybe tease him a bit more about his serious sugar addiction, but he came up short as Tim slipped a hand against the underside of the Batcomputer’s desk, fingers subtly searching. Jason knew there was a panic button under there, even though he’d never had to use it during his time as Robin. It would send alerts to Alfred, to Dick, to every device of Bruce’s – hell, it might even send alerts to Clark or Diana at this point. Jason really didn’t need Superman busting in with a disgruntled Batman in his arms while he was trying to get work done.

So he backed off, raising his hands in mocking surrender as he leaned back against the machinery behind him, playing it off with a sarcastic, “Damn then, Boy Wonder, keep your secrets.”

The rest of Jason’s visit to the Cave was spent in tense silence, only broken in brief intervals to discuss the specifics of Jason’s case and the results of the toxin analysis. Turns out it was developed from an older strain of Crane’s – the most current fear toxin antidote could wipe it out no problem.

It didn’t leave him as satisfied as it should have, feeling all off-kilter as he mounted his motorcycle and started his drive back to Crime Alley. He couldn’t shake the hard look in Tim’s eyes as his fingers searched the bottom of the desk. It was fucking infuriating. What should he care if the newest little Robin was scared of him, after all? He and the Bats weren’t a team, and Robin certainly wasn’t his responsibility.

Maybe Jason had inhaled a little of the toxin when running the analysis. That was all.

*     *     *

Scared wasn’t really the right word, Jason realized over time. Because Tim was very obviously not afraid of him. He would poke and prod at Jason, even outright mock him sometimes. His glares were fierce and intense, his tone short and snappy. At times, he almost seemed to be seeking out a fight, like he wanted a rematch, to prove the words he said back at Titan’s Tower.

“Do you think you’re that good now? Do you really, Tim?”

“Yes.”

Wary seemed more accurate. He wasn’t frightened of Jason, but he was mostly certainly on edge. Even more so when Jason started visiting the Manor itself, finally giving in to Alfred and Dick’s invitations (though he still staunchly refused the invitations for family dinners – no way in hell he was being civil with Bruce for that long.). Tim would eye Jason like one would a particularly reactive dog – cautious and ready to act, but without any outright fear or anxiety.

And Jason… he could live with that. He didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it’s not like they were family or anything. Just because Bruce took in the kid didn’t make them brothers – and it wasn’t like Bruce was his father anymore, anyway. The itch that grew under Jason’s skin when Tim would look at him like that was purely from having eyes on him, that was all. And he didn’t feel guilty for making the kid feel like that, thank you very much – that lingering weight in his chest was just a perfectly normal reaction to Dick’s puppy-dog eyes every time he and Tim sniped at each other. 

Seriously. No grown man should be able to make that expression. It was unnatural. 

He was so used to Tim’s cold shoulders that when he arrived at the Cave one afternoon, he almost fell off his motorcycle at the bright, cackling laugh that echoed across the stone once he cut his engine. It was boyish, childish, happy – all the things Robin should be. For a moment, it made old bitterness crawl up the back of his throat like bile, but he just as quickly swallowed it back down. He’d already taken out enough on the kid.

The laughter grew louder as he climbed the stairs up to the Batcave’s main platform, growing squeakier or snortier or gigglier in various intervals. By the time he made it up the stairs, Jason had a pretty good idea of what was happening. Turning away from the Batcomputer and towards the training mats easily confirmed it.

Because there was the Boy Wonder, in all his red-faced glory, cackling up a storm as Dick tickled the absolute shit out of him. 

At least Dick had someone besides Jason to take all that tickle-monster energy out on, now.

Dick’s head shot up as Jason’s boot scuffed across the stone, and he shot Jason a grin. “Hey, Little Wing!” Tim’s laughter lightened, growing more giggly. Probably Dick lightening up his attack in case he wanted to participate in the conversation. “What brings you here?”

“Came by to hack into the computer.” Jason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Got some CCTV to look into, and the setup is better here than in any of my safehouses.”

Dick nodded, and Tim’s laughter jumped in pitch again.

“Jesus,” Jason said. “You trying to kill the kid?”

Dick laughed himself and finally let up, leaving Tim to roll onto his side and catch his breath. 

“Nah – but I think I might’ve finally found someone more ticklish than you, Jay.” He gave Jason a meaningful look, winking when he was sure Tim wasn’t looking.

Jason scoffed. He would not be filing that information away for later, thank you very much, because Tim was not his baby brother. “Yeah, whatever. I grew out of that – Lazarus Pits and all.”

Dick narrowed his eyes, a disarming smile on his lips. “Oh, really? That’s too bad. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind, then, if I–”

Jason swiftly backed away from the mats. “Yeah, no. I’m busy – came here to work and all. Try to keep it down, will you?” He managed to catch Tim’s eye for a second. “Try his thighs,” he advised. “Or just under his ribs. Makes for great revenge.”

“Wha– Jason!”

Jason turned his back on them, not wanting to unpack the narrow-eyed look Tim gave him. Not even moments later he heard Dick yelp.

“Oh, no you don’t – you’ll regret that!”

And the Cave was quickly filled with laughter once more, two sets of it this time. Not exactly the quiet environment Jason had hoped for when he came by to work, but he would deal. The Batcomputer had high-quality headphones for a reason.

And, privately, Jason thought those two could use more opportunities to smile.

*     *     *

Over time, the uneasy truce settled into something more comfortable. There were times it still chafed, itching at Jason’s skin until he felt he needed to claw it off, but things were rarely so tense anymore that Jason expected to be cut off like a necrotic limb. Hood still handled Crime Alley, the Bats tackled the rest of Gotham, and sometimes, if the cards fell right, they were able to work cases together without any casualties.

Cases like this new up-and-coming gang. They’d spread outside of the Alley, maneuvering in areas where Hood didn’t have as much reach or authority, but they were still spreading through his own territory like slow-acting poison. There was only so much he could do, and so when Dick offered the Bats up to help, Jason agreed with only minimal bitching. 

Which led him to this warehouse rooftop, going on three hours crouched uncomfortably next to Robin, the irritation of a failed stakeout grating against his ribs and skull. The established gang these newbies were trying to ally with hadn’t even shown, and even the newbies were starting to pack up shop, wanting to get back to base before dawn broke. The newest little Robin, however, didn’t seem to be getting the memo that this was a bust.

“Kid,” Hood all but growled. “Let’s go, there’s nothing more for us here.”

Robin scoffed, still laying on his stomach and not bothering to drop the binoculars to have a conversation with Hood. “Something might still happen. I’m not going to drop this just because you’re getting impatient.”

A flash of irritation bubbled up in Hood’s chest, frustration coiling hot in his stomach. The gang was leaving, Hood was starving, his knees ached from crouching on this roof all night, and he really should’ve told Dick no when Robin was offered up to help with the stakeout. But of course, the Bat himself was too busy with some last-minute JL business, and Nightwing had his own problems in Bludhaven to deal with. The worst part was that Robin was right, something could still happen, but Hood sincerely doubted it. They hadn’t gotten any new or relevant info in the past two hours, and Hood was ready to stuff his face with some greasy fast food and pass out for the next six hours.

And so as the newbies finished loading up their vehicles and driving off, Hood reached over to snatch the binoculars from Robin. Somehow, even with his face buried behind the plastic, he knew Hood was coming and shifted out of the way, thrusting a foot into Hood’s chest to try and hold him back. Hood’s height was an advantage here, but Robin still refused to let go of the binoculars, staring after the newbies’ vehicles as if they held the answers to the universe. 

And Hood, overtired and ready to be out of all this goddamned armor and in bed, let his instincts take over again. He jabbed one hand up under Robin’s arm, poking and prodding at the softer spot in the armor designed for mobility. Robin made an awkward squawking sound, his arm shooting down to protect the vulnerable spot and cutting the grip he had on the binoculars by half. Hood easily wrenched them from his hand after that, tucking them into an inner pocket in his leather jacket.

“Come on,” Hood said, standing and brushing himself off like nothing happened. “Batburger, I’m buying.”

Robin scowled at him, eyes unreadable behind the white-out lenses of the domino, and slowly rose to his feet. “Fine. But I want Jokerized fries, and I don’t care how you feel about it.”

*     *     *

Jason had to wonder if the kid ever slept. Every time he came by the Cave, Tim was there too – training, running samples, working cases on the Batcomputer – no matter what absurd hour he arrived. Jason let out a loud, long, obnoxious sigh as he cleared the stairs to the main platform of the Batcave, and Tim immediately whipped around and glared at him over the back of the desk chair.

“Can I help you?” Tim snapped.

“I need the computer.” Jason kicked the base of the desk chair as he approached, propelling it several inches to the left. 

Tim’s scowl deepened, and he rolled the chair back into position. “Well you can wait. I’m busy with a case.”

Instead of arguing further, Jason opted for the quickest route of success. He grabbed the back of the desk chair, spun it around so Tim was no longer facing the desk, and unceremoniously dumped him out of the seat. Tim squawked as he stumbled out of the chair, but regained his footing quickly and immediately trying to bolt back into the seat. Jason smirked and yanked it away, sending it rolling a few feet behind him.

“Whoops.”

Tim pursed his lips. “Real mature.”

Jason laid a hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. “Ouch. You wound me. Truly.”

Tim glared at him, but his eyes flicked towards the desk chair behind Jason. They burst into motion at the same time – Tim lunging towards the chair, and Jason lunging towards Tim. After a brief tussle, Jason yanked Tim into a headlock, and for a brief second the two of them went eerily still. Jason loosened his grip, making the hold easy to break, but didn’t let go. Tim stayed frozen for a moment longer before tilting his head up, giving Jason a challenging look.

Jason’s mind warred with itself for a few moments. Not my little brother, one side of his brain said. Isn’t he, though? another replied. He had, unfortunately, filed away that information Dick had given him, as much as he tried to ignore it. And, well, it wouldn’t be the first time, would it? He didn’t think he’d even given Tim back his Bat-noculars.

A moment passed, and Jason suddenly lunged, latching his free hand onto Tim’s side and squeezing away. Tim jerked in his grip, squealing as a smile forced its way onto his face. One hand went towards prying Jason’s off his side, while the other came and clutched at the forearm around his throat for stability. Jason grinned and allowed the hand to crawl up Tim’s side, carefully keeping his headlock loose so that Tim wouldn’t really feel trapped. The second Jason’s fingers touched his ribs and a real laugh jumped out from Tim’s throat, he was out of Jason’s grip in seconds. Tim stood across from him, giving him another one of those uncomfortably calculating looks, though the blush rushing to his cheeks diminished it slightly.

“Fine,” Tim said eventually. “I should head up and get a snack anyways.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. 

“But I’m coming back down in two hours, and I will be getting back to my case. Whether you’re done on the computer or not.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah, sure thing, Timberly. Whatever you say.”

*     *     *

Jason was at the Manor for family dinner.

His skin itched at the thought as he sped into the Cave on his motorcycle – he never entered through the Manor proper, not in all these months, something about that just made it too real, too raw – and threw his riding gear off. Bruce was going to be there – not Batman, Bruce, and he hadn’t really interacted with the man outside the mask since he came back – but so were Dick and Alfred. And so was Tim.

Bit by bit, the kid had been relaxing around him. They worked cases together (and with Nightwing) when Hood needed a Bat, or when the birds needed his help instead. He didn’t tense whenever Jason came through the Cave anymore, didn’t eye Jason with suspicion when they crossed paths on patrol. He still stared a lot, but it’s not like Jason could blame him. He had attacked the kid, and even if he didn’t leave him with more than a concussion and some bruises (and Jason with a grudging sense of respect for the brat, as he walked away with his own array of bruising and a busted nose), the kid was well within his rights to keep his eyes on Jason’s movements.

But still, the progress they had made was, well, nice.

Speak of the devil — the Cave wasn’t empty. Tim was in the training area, dressed in basketball shorts and a t-shirt, running his bo staff drills with a single-minded focus that could rival even Bruce. Jason almost would’ve thought that Tim didn’t realize he was there, but Tim’s eyes flicked his direction as he approached the edge of the training mats. Tim ran through the move he was doing a few more times, making minute posture changes each time until his form was perfect, before dropping out of his stance and facing Jason.

“Not bad,” Jason said.

Tim ticked up an eyebrow. “Thanks.” His gaze trailed over to the stairs. “Alfred’s still making dinner, and Bruce is up there brooding and fussing over everything until it’s perfect. You probably wanna stay down here until the food’s ready.”

The skin around Jason’s eyes tightened as he suppressed a wince. “Yeah, thanks. Where’s Golden Boy?”

The corner of Tim’s mouth twitched up. “He got saddled with ‘distract Bruce’ duty.”

Jason matched Tim’s half-smile. They lapsed into an awkward silence. Jason shoved his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to fidget. Tim stared.

“Let’s spar,” Tim said suddenly, turning on his heel to set aside his bo staff.

Jason stared at him, incredulous. “What?”

“Spar. You and me.”

“Are you sure about that, kid?”

Tim shot him one of those calculating looks over his shoulder. “Do you have anything better to do?”

Jason pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then let’s spar.”

Palms sweating, Jason kicked off his boots, shucked his leather jacket, and set aside the weapons he’d hidden on his person. He set himself up opposite of Tim, lowering his body into a fighting stance.

“Ready?” Tim asked.

“Yup.”

The word was barely out of Jason’s mouth before Tim lunged, immediately going in for a grapple. Jason almost laughed — he far outclassed the little Robin in both weight and strength — and quickly sent the kid sprawling to the mats before backing away. Tim was scowling when he stood up.

“Don’t go easy on me.”

“Don’t worry, Boy Wonder. I’m just getting warmed up.”

Tim lunged first again, feinting left before trying to circle around to Jason’s back on the right. Jason whipped around and blocked the incoming blows, jabs that would’ve left his arms numb and tingling for hours had they landed. On one block, he snagged Tim’s wrist and used it to twirl him halfway around. He shoved Tim forward, harder than he meant to, and let him stumble a few feet as he retreated again.

The spar went on like this for a while, Tim attacking and Jason blocking and retreating. Tim’s scowl got deeper and deeper, and the careful control he usually held in his movements started slipping more and more. After the tenth time Jason knocked Tim’s attack away and retreated, Tim finally snapped.

“Stop babying me! I can take it!”

“Tim—“

“No.” Tim fell back into a ready stance, face red and splotchy from frustration and exertion. “I know what it looks like when you’re fighting for real. So fight me.”

Jason pressed his lips into a thin line. “Fine.”

Jason rushed first this time, and Tim met him in the middle. They exchanged a series of blows (though Jason pulled his punches — this was a spar not a brawl, and he kinda thought Tim had enough of Jason punching his lights out by now), and Tim held his own well. He’d gotten some good hits in during their confrontation at Titan’s Tower, but it was clear he had improved since losing to Jason back then. If Tim had been in a better state, he might’ve been able to hold out against Jason’s onslaught for a while.

As it was, Tim had clearly been training for a while before Jason had come in and had already been fatigued, and his lingering frustration from Jason’s kid-gloves was obviously making him sloppy. With Jason’s bulk and sheer strength, he had Tim pinned to the ground in minutes. Tim grunted and growled and struggled under him, trying to free himself, but Jason had both his arms pinned above his head and had settled his bulk over Tim’s thighs so he couldn’t flip their positions or kick Jason off.

“Satisfied?” Jason asked dryly.

Tim didn’t reply, twisting his wrists to test Jason’s grip.

“Ready to hit the showers? Alfred probably won’t be happy if we come to dinner all drenched in sweat.”

Tim twisted his hips, trying to throw Jason off but unable to get the leverage to move his considerable weight. “No, fuck you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “Damn, Timber, you kiss Alfred with that mouth?”

Tim paid him no mind, continuing to hiss and spit under him. Honestly, it reminded Jason a lot of when he was Robin. Whenever Dick beat him in a spar, he would hiss and spit and carry on, trying to break the hold until Dick got sick of his whining and—

Ah. So that was why Dick had been tickling the kid to tears the other month. 

Jason gave Tim a considering look. For a moment, he wondered if he really had the right. Tim wasn’t his little brother, not really. Just because they got taken in by the same rich asshole did not mean they were related. He’d been telling himself so for months, even if there were moments of doubt. But, well, wasn’t Tim his little brother? They snarked and tussled over the computer and helped each other on cases, and Jason was here to eat family dinner with him for God’s sake.

And hey, maybe getting tickled to tears on the training mats by your asshole predecessor would become a Robin right-of-passage.

Amidst Tim’s struggling, Jason managed to wrangle both his wrists into one hand and pin them firmly above his head. Then, making sure Tim was watching, he hovered a hand over Tim’s stomach and slowly started wiggling his fingers.

Tim gasped and froze. Then, just as quickly, his struggles started up again with a new desperation.

“You wouldn’t.”

Jason grinned, lowering his wiggling fingers another inch. “Say uncle, Timmy.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, dragging his eyes away from the ticklish threat to meet Jason’s own. “Do your worst.”

Tim’s mouth clamped shut tight just as Jason’s lowered his hand and touched down on Tim’s stomach. Tim squeezed his eyes shut and squirmed, going pink in the face as he tried not to laugh.

Jason laughed for him. “Come on, TimTam, we both know you’re ticklish as shit. No point in not laughing.”

Tim shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to worm away to the left as Jason’s hand traveled to his right side.

“No, it doesn’t tickle? Are you sure?”

Even though his eyes were still closed, Tim turned his face away from Jason, trying to hide behind one of his biceps. Jason grinned wider and jumped his hand over to Tim’s other side, delivering a series of nibbling pinches without warning. Tim squeaked, like the little baby bird he was, and jolted to the right to try and get away.

“I dunno, Baby Bird. Seems like it might tickle.”

Tim made a growling noise in the back of his throat, and Jason couldn’t help but laugh again.

“No? Maybe we should make sure all your nerves are working right, then.”

Tim’s eyes snapped open at that, glassy and watery from the effort of holding back his laughter. Jason made sure to grin at him, smug and toothy and all evil-big-brother, just like Dick used to do to him.

“Tell me, can you feel this?”

His hand shot up and skittered calloused fingertips and blunt fingernails against the exposed side of Tim’s neck. Tim’s head snapped to that side with a muffled squeal, his smile fighting to become open-mouthed and toothy, forcing Tim to bite down on his lip to keep his reactions at bay.

“Hmm, seems promising. How ‘bout here, can you feel that?”

Jason shot back down and vibrated his hand into the center of Tim’s belly. Tim tried to jackknife to protect himself, but with his wrists firmly pinned and Jason’s considerable weight on his thighs, he was forced to stay flat against the mats. He chose to toss his head back against the mats instead, shaking it back and forth furiously.

“No?” Jason asked, voice dripping with faux-concern. “You can’t feel it?”

Tim let an annoyed little groan, but quickly cut it off as it started to take on a giggly tone. Jason was being deliberately unhelpful in the matter, poking his index finger into various spots of Tim’s stomach and vibrating it.

“Right here, can you feel this? What about over here? And here? Come on Timbit, work with me here.”

Tim flinched and twitched at every prod, trembling with suppressed giggles. Jason’s own cheeks hurt from smiling — he could definitely see why Dick tickled the snot out of him so often when he was a kid. This was adorable and hilarious. But he still had yet to make the kid break, which was kinda annoying. Like, hello, how was Jason supposed to tickle the snot out of him if he wouldn’t even laugh? Jason paused for a moment, letting Tim catch his breath as he planned his next attack. Now where was it that made Tim shoot out of his arms the other week…

Oh, that’s right.

Jason put on a mournful look, shaking his head. “Starting to get real concerned here, Timbourine. Maybe we oughtta do a full injury check.” Jason rested his fingers on Tim’s lower ribs. “What do you say?”

Tim gasped, shuffling as far away from Jason’s hand as he could, but Jason followed the movement easily.

“Jason—“ Tim started, but cut himself off, pressing his lips together again.

“What is it you said to me, again? Do my worst, was that it?”

“Jason, I’ll— I’ll buffer Bruce for you tonight. I’ll take on your caseload. I’ll clean your motorcycle, I—“

“As tempting as that all sounds,” Jason had to raise his voice to be heard over Tim’s rambling. “You know what I wanna hear. Admit you lost.” 

Tim’s mouth clamped shut. Of course. How could the latest model not come with that patented stubborn Robin pride?

Jason shrugged, tapping his fingers threateningly against Tim’s ribs, making him squirm. “Suit yourself.”

Jason wasn’t the greatest at picking apart Tim’s expressions, but he’d say the smile forcing its way across Tim’s face was almost giddy.

He started off with a typical injury-check touch, a light press and slide against the individual ribs, just to really play into the game he had set up. Tim’s face scrunched up instantly, obviously trying to hold back his reactions, and his body started squirming with a new fervor. 

“Nerves working here, Timmers?” Jason tickled his middle ribs a bit more deliberately, making Tim’s face spasm. “Seems to me like you might be feeling something. Does it tickle?”

Tim shook his head. Jason sighed.

“You leave me no choice.”

Jason released Tim’s wrists and latched onto either side of his ribs with both hands, tickling mercilessly. Tim’s eyes bugged out of his head as he let out a laugh bordering on a scream. His legs scrambled on the mats behind Jason, searching for leverage or freedom. As Tim’s laughter fell into desperate cackles, Jason couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Jason! Jay!”

“You know how to make it stop, Timmy.”

Even with his hands free, Jason was discovering that Tim was absolutely useless when he was tickled. Jason attacked lower on his ribcage and Tim’s hands latched onto Jason’s wrists in a feeble, laughter-weakened attempt to pry him off. That only opened up the rest of his ribcage and armpits to attack, which Jason took great advantage of. Tim’s laughter would get more panicky, more shrill, the higher Jason went, but his brain didn’t seem to know how to defend itself — seeing as his hands stayed latched onto Jason’s to try and pull him off.

“Jesus Christ, Baby Bird — how do you even live when you’re this ticklish?”

“Asshole!”

Jason raised an eyebrow, though he wasn’t sure Tim could see it through his squinted, teary eyes. “Be nice. I could make this so much worse.”

“No, no!”

“That’s what I thought.”

Of course, Jason still made it worse anyway. There was a particular spot towards the back of Tim’s ribs, right between the top two on either side, that sent Tim spasming like he’d been electrocuted. Jason laughed as he prodded at the weak points one at a time, watching Tim toss himself in the opposite direction of the ticklish jolts. Finally, he gave Tim a breather, resting his fingers against those spots on his ribs just to keep him giggly and twitchy.

“Last chance for mercy,” Jason said, just barely twitching his fingers to watch Tim jump. “Alfred’ll send someone down soon.”

Tim’s teary eyes went wide. “Wait, Jason, come on–”

“Damn stubborn little Robin.”

Jason dug his fingers in, torturing those little tickle spots as best he could.

“Fuck!” Tim practically screamed before breaking into laughter that would give even the Joker a run for his money. Surprisingly, the hysterical tone of it didn’t even make Jason’s skin crawl. “Uncle!” Tim cried out, and his laughter went silent.

Jason eased up, redirecting his attack lower on Tim’s ribs, though still vibrating his fingers into the nerves mercilessly. “Hm? What was that?”

“You win! Uncle, you win! Jason, come on!”

With a chuckle, Jason heaved himself off of Tim to sit on the mats next to him, ruffling his hair as he caught his breath.

“Fuck you,” Tim said, closing his eyes and relaxing bonelessly into the mats.

“Hey.” Jason raised his hands in surrender. “You could’ve stopped that at any time. Not my fault you’re a stubborn little bitch.”

“I’ll get you for this.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “I’ve got, like, a hundred pounds on you and I’m twice your height. How do you think you’re accomplishing that, shrimp?”

Tim peeled one eye open to glare at him. “I’ve got Dick.”

Jason froze. Oh, shit.

“That he does,” a cheerful voice chimed in from the direction of the stairs. Dick strode towards them, a slightly feral smile on his face. “And I would be more than happy to help. We never did test your claim about the Lazarus Pit taking away your ticklishness.”

Oh, fuck, actually. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Tim about Dick’s thighs that one time.

Dick’s smile shifted from feral to innocent in the blink of an eye. “But maybe later. Alfred sent me to get you for dinner – and I know he wouldn’t appreciate your B.O. stinking up the dinner table. Hit the showers.”

Jason groaned as he got up, pretending to crack his back even though he wasn’t the slightest bit sore from their sparring or impromptu tickle attack. Then, he reached down and hauled Tim to his feet, shoving him in the direction of the Cave’s locker room ahead of himself. Just as he went to follow, a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Good job, big brother,” Dick said, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t travel through the echoing cave. He gave Jason’s shoulder a squeeze.

Jason looked away and scoffed. “Yeah, whatever. Little shit was asking for it.”

Dick laughed and dropped his hand, shoving Jason toward the locker room much like Jason had shoved Tim. He tried not to think about it too hard, instead focusing on how carefully he’d have to watch his back in the future.

No way he was letting Timmy and Dickhead take him down without a fight.

[thewritingfairy]

🪷 is here again. I hope I'm not bothering you but I have some more ideas.

1. Imagine something happens and when Alfred tells the reader "your mother will be disappointed" when they stand up for themselves reader snapped at Alfred. "She will be disappointed. Yes. Disappointed in *you*!" As they looked at him like his noting anymore to them. As that last shared of love they have for him die.

2. Imagine reader got really sick one day, where Alfred was not around and they collapsed in one of the abandoned parts of the manor. Get found by Bruce or Jason, as he sees them crying in their sleep. And as he picks them up to take them to their room he sees how sick and underweight they are. Saddenly as reader cry in their sleep they cling to him as they whispered something like "I'm sorry...mom I'm sorry...I didn't protect it...". And as he (Jason or Bruce) tries to put them in their bed they hold his hand as they whisper in their sleep (or maybe they are half asleep and too sick to know what is going on) "don't go...". {I want them to see more of the damage they made}

3. Alfred or Bruce sees the reader standing up for themselve to someone who is not from the family and feeling proud only to realizing the irony of how they feel proud of reader for standing up against someone who hurted them in a less way than how the Batboys did.

4. Dick meeting reader friends and them being cold towards him. I can imagine one of them chuwing him out. It will be best if it's another older sibling.

5. When Jason destroyed Reader's room the Batfamily saw all the broken awards they won, ripped books and art pieces and were truly surprised by how talented the reader is. And now they sometimes keep remembering the things they found and how they have something in common with the reader. Maybe they kept some of what they found in reader's room. "I mean, they don't need it. They have a replica." They tell themselves.

Jason finds a book reader that is an old diary of someone from the past. As he reades it he found small papers between the pages that have notes written by the reader about the person. He can't help but read them. Finding some of the jokes funny. Finding inner jokes both reader and that person did read (maybe Jason did read some of them or will read them).

Damian finds ripped art pieces that can't be replicated. They are so beautifully made but oh so wrecked. have so many emotions in them. And the more he peace the peaces together the more he sees.

Bruce found a book he remembers his mother reading for him when she was alive. He can't help but open it up to see the pages. Only to find it signed by the reader's mother. Some pages are ripped, but tankful he can fix it. He did put it in Reader's (new?) room, but. cant take his mind off it and off the reader.

Tim finds a hand clock he fixed. Looking at he he found that it seems that its parts were taken out and cleaned before being fixed. Realizing that the reader can tinker. He also found himself impressed by its old machinem, because it's more complicated than normal watches. Or maybe he found an old music box. He gave it back to the reader.

Related fic: 04.1 Jason's crime

You aren’t bothering me at all, but I will be honest, the only thing I would consider is Tim, one of the next chapter of the main fic will be about Tim (and cassandara). Tim is the only one that you have a cordial relationship with, he’s a child of neglect himself, he knows what you are going through but since you aren’t involved with the night business he sees it as a necessary evil. He’s observant like Cass, but unlike Cass he wouldn’t ignore your pain. He would try to help you, but he would do so invisibly.

I think some of the future side chapters might disturb some of you tbh (honestly maybe me too)