#arkham knight au

[brucewaynehater101]

I’m absolutely obsessed with this prompt of Tim being older than Jason and/or only becoming Robin when he's an adult.

Never has someone seen him and cared about him so much. But he sees how much Bruce mourns. He isn't mourning his sidekick, he is mourning his son.

And Tim will never be his son, will never get the same affection because Batman only made him Robin BECAUSE it wouldn't hurt him as much if he'd lose Tim. Since he isn't a family member, like his parents or Jason or Dick.

And Tim HAS a place of his own, true. But it's empty. It doesn't have anything personal. No family pictures, nothing that shows him that someone cares about him or he cares about someone as much like Bruce cares about his family. Especially with Jason's memorial case in the Batacave

I need fanfics with this. I have to check ou the "Tim joins the Batfam late" tag again

Post in question: https://www.tumblr.com/goodoldfashionedengineer/758997334790225920/after-finishing-batman-arkham-knight-i-looked?source=share

Link here for others

Thank you so much for providing a link.

I have seen some stuff theorizing that Tim was older than Jason in the Arkham Knight game as well.

Which, with your take, makes the game that much more tragic for Tim. Robin literally says, "You haven't done that in a while," when Bruce calls him Jason. Painful as hell.

As far as AU, I'm not a fan of Tim becoming "Robin" as an adult because I see Robin as more of a teenager's role. It helps them to mature into adult vigilantes.

HOWEVER, I fuck so hard with Tim Joins the Batfam Late fics and I can kind of combine those with your idea.

So, Tim is older than Jason, and Jason dies. Let's make Tim seventeen when Jason dies.

Jason dies in April, so Tim is eighteen when he tries to reach out to Bruce to get him to stop beating himself and all of Gotham up.

He's an adult, so he has more power. Bruce can't tell Tim not to become a vigilante. Tim has blackmail and Bruce can't threaten to call Tim's parents (who, for the sake of it, are dead. He got emancipated at 16).

Since Tim isn't a child even though he's younger than Bruce's eldest son, Bruce doesn't need to parent him. Tim is a colleague. He's not family.

They grow to care about each other like good work friends, but Tim's death wouldn't be the same as losing a son (at least for a long while).

Jason, when he returns, is upset about being replaced. However, Tim is an adult (so none of that "child soldiers" spiel), and he never took up the Robin mantle. He became his own identity.

Tim's relationship with the Bats is also different than Jason's was. For comparison sake, it's mix between Huntress or Oracle where Bruce works with them, but they are also highly independent from him. It's also more apparent that Tim undergoes a caretaker role in this. He's the one to patch Bruce up, lug his tired ass to his bed, demand he eats, and assists him with WE work. Because Tim's an adult, Bruce allows himself to lean/rely on him more (even though eighteen is barely an adult at all).

Tim doesn't live at the Manor. Sometimes, when it's really late and he's exhausted from helping Bruce, he'll catch four or so hours in a guest bedroom. Otherwise, he's trekking back to his bare apartment that only has a few photos of his parents and/or friends.

As Bruce gets better, Tim spends less time with Bruce to pursue his own cases/work. Their relationship is mostly about what Bruce needs from Tim and not what Tim needs from Bruce.

Then Jason comes back. He's angry or whatnot, but he's got the vibes wrong. He thinks that Tim is another annoying older brother he has to deal with. Thus, Jason is the first one to admit, sarcastically, that Tim is family :)

[ghost-bxrd]

Jason didn’t think it could get any worse, but the universe just loves proving him wrong on that front.

Beaten within an inch of his life with a crowbar? Don’t worry buddy, I gotcha. How about we make it worse with some explosives?

Your alternate self got kidnapped and tortured by the Joker? Golly gee, really gotta step up my game now! How about we make him so fucking traumatized he will tell you which knife is best to torture him with?

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Jason wants a fucking refund on this whole dimension travel bullshit. Because this? This is some A-grade clusterfuck. He’d rather deal with goddamn Sionis than— whatever this is. Jesus.

— sneak peek of “It Is All True” (aka. the Arkham Knight Au continuation)

[the-inkwell-variable]

“Betraying your boss?  That’s not very noble of you, Arkham Knight.  How do I know you won’t betray me once we stop Scarecrow?” He was fully planning to.  He had every intention of putting a bullet in Batman’s skull before Scarecrow’s body hit the floor. [But that’s not how we make friends, is it, Todders?] “My goal is to save Gotham, same as yours.”  He kept his voice as steady as he could, but even the modulator couldn’t hide the tremor that washed through his words.

guess who's writing again <3

[ky-landfill]

[guummy]

GODS & MONSTERS

pairing : god!jason todd ⠀𝒙⠀ nymph!fem!reader | words : 1.8k

summary : ‘put your hands on my waist, do it slowly.’

contents. allusions to mistreatment ( from the other gods ), half of this is actual plot, the second half is smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, stalking ( idk )

note. so, I made a post earlier this month abt this fic, and a lot of people took an interest in, so if this flops then everyone lied to me /j, but thank you to that anon who told me to carry on writing it bc I would have forgotten about it. this fic is giving meeting ur celeb crush not knowing that in the future, you’ll be married

#. main masterlist. | dc masterlist. | jason todd masterlist.

OVER AND OVER again, the older nymphs had to follow your every move. They said you had the mind of a curious adventurer, and although your sisters were the same, you couldn’t help but find curiosity outside your own home. So, as you rested your back against a tree, playing with a piece of thread between your fingers, you couldn’t help but wonder how long would pass until they found you.

One of your most favoured pastimes was to watch the supposed god that visited the riverbank every morning. The first time you ever laid eyes upon him, you asked your sister who he was. A god of war, who was supposedly sane enough to accompany the war of mortal men if they worshipped him to his liking. If he was lucid enough to subjugate his godliness to the land of humans, perhaps he was rational when it came to love. Instead of chasing and manipulating women to his enjoyment such as the other gods of Olympus, perhaps he was gentle enough to devote himself to a lover.

And you were one who loved devotion.

As a nymph, you craved it just as you longed for the touch of cold water to soothe your skin.

Now, that you peered around a tree, glancing at the god, you couldn’t help but revel in his presence, watching as he performed his daily routine. You revelled in the way he curled his fingers into fists, his gaze locked onto the soft rushing of the waves and ripples of the water. And apart from that, and the bellowing of the wind, there was nothing else you could hear, not the breathing of either of you or the creatures around as if they were kept silent at the sight of the god.

In the midst of your obnoxious staring, you let out a small yelp in pain as you happened to impale the tender skin of your palm with something protruding from the ground, drawing his attention over to the source of the noise; your incompetent lips.

“Who’s there? Come out,” he demanded, his voice sending shivers down your fragile spine.

Cursing under your breath, you stood up and slowly approached him from your hiding, leaving prints in the soil as you stood before his towering figure.

“Forgive me,” you begged as you bowed.

When you felt his fingers on your chin, your body trembled as he lifted your face to look at you.

“There is no need to,” he replied, his voice deep and hoarse.

You would have expected him to end your life there and then, yet, he gazed at you in a way that beckoned you to say more, your body weakening at his viridescent pupils.

“Are you Jason?” You asked, eyes widening as you realised how close you were.

To be noticed by a god was startling, but to have one touch you whilst you stare at each other was viewed as only a dream.

“And you are?” He asked.

As you told him your name, he repeated it with a small smile, gesturing for you to stand up.

“And what do I owe the pleasure of meeting a nymph?” He asked, circling you slowly. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he spoke as he watched you step away from him. “I’ve seen you before,” he confessed. “You watch me from over there. And you return to the river when I leave.”

“I never meant to stare at the beginning,” you replied, biting on your inner cheek as you played with the fabric of your clothing, your voice becoming silent as you finished your confession.

“Why do you stare?” Jason asked, crossing his arms.

“Why do you visit the river?” You questioned him, the mischief you were born with as a nymph seeping through your shyness. “You’re a god, you’re handsome, and I cannot stare?”

“I visit these waters to pay respect to someone I lost,” he replied after you answered his question.

Barely any of the gods respected mere humans so his confession had your mouth agape.

“Were they your lover?” You asked.

“A friend,” he corrected.

You didn’t know if he could tell what you were thinking but inherently, you were satisfied he was an unmarried and untaken god. Naturally, gods had affairs and multiple marriages, but the idea of his attention simply being on you had you flustered.

You nodded in understanding as you looked over at the ripples practically telling you to come back.

“I’ve been away from home for too long, my sisters will probably be looking for me,” you whispered, staring back up at the god before you, your heart beating and the pits of your stomach fluttering.

Choosing a pebble from the bank of the river, you held it in front of him before placing it in his palm when he held it out.

“To remember me by,” you muttered before taking a step backwards.

Glancing at him one more time, you made your way back along the river, deciding in your head your sisters would never hear of this interaction.

Not only was he a revengeful and a passionately driven god, he was also wise. The two of you seemed to talk every possible moment; at the break of dawn, sat on the riverbank a few yards away from your home, or late in the afternoons where you showed him your favourite comfort places around the woods you had spent your life in.

Yet, everyday, you had tried to push yourself to offer yourself to him as a sort of gift, if he’d accept you anyways. You were noticeably touchy with him, whether the pads of your fingers grazing over the embellishments and carvings in his armour or making sure your hands brushed against his larger limbs.

One late evening, the confidence you had been longing for finally came as you stood before him in a coven of trees, desperate to tell him of your deep and solid feelings.

“I want you to have me,” you confessed, breaking the silence between the two of you, your hands held out in front of you as your gaze was focused on the ground.

“Excuse me?” He replied, needing reassurance of what you said.

“I want to give myself to you,” you added.

Jason paused for a moment before resting his hands on your hips.

“Insolent gods only want to please themselves, but I don’t wish for the same. I don’t want you to offer yourself to me, but if you truly want this, all you have to do is tell me,” he explained, his hand resting against the back of your head. “I don’t wish to have your body if you cannot have mine.”

Slightly nodding in understanding, your hands drifted to the hems of your clothes.

“Do you want me?” You whispered, twisting your clothing between your fingers.

“In all my life I’ve never wanted someone more,” he confessed, leaning slightly to meet your gaze.

At his words, you began to remove the fabric clinging onto your skin, standing still in front of him as your breath quivered.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his hands resting on your hips as he pressed a kiss to your jaw, his lips travelling down to your neck.

Your body was cold to the touch, and when he brought your hand up to press a kiss to your palm, your body shivered and grew warm under his touch.

If Jason’s men found him like this, found him making love to a nymph, they’d probably cheer, but you knew he wasn’t simply doing so because it had been so long for him, but because in the last few days, he had grown fond of you, and it was an act of feverish desire to hold you.

“Lie down for me,” he mumbled, yet, his voice was loud.

Doing as he said, you laid down on the sheets of clothing you previously removed, watching as he knelt down, pressing his hands to your inner thighs as he gestured for you to spread your legs.

Soon, he was clad with no clothes, brushing soft kisses across the expanse of your stomach as he gazed up at you, worshipping your body even though it should have been the other way around.

You were already practically his goddess.

Jason was tender with his touch, his hands gripping at your waist as he pushed his cock inside your clenching hole. The girth of it had you gasping as your head lolled back and your eyes shut in both pain and pleasure.

“Please,” you whispered when he paused in his movements. Your small beg led to him beginning to move, slowly pistoning his length in and out of your soaked core, the soft sounds of skin colliding hidden beneath the rustling of leaves and lapping of water.

It was your first time, yet, his gentleness distracted you from how much it hurt and soon, instead of cries, small whimpers soon fell from your lips, your eyes closing as he drove his length inside you.

“Jason ── ,” you hushed, your eyes fluttering as you looked up at him with your blown pupils. His hands gripped tighter at your waist as thrusted into your cunt, your walls sensitive around his length.

You trembled underneath him, revelling in the warmth of his body against yours as the soft winds blew against your skin. Your body had practically welcomed him, and it was then that you realised that you were no longer a virgin.

That you were losing it to a god.

One who whispered your name repeatedly as he pressed against your flesh, handling you with care and the urgency to bring you to your release

You were annoyed that he was so gentle in his touch, drawing you close to tears as he bullied his twitching cock in and out of your chaste and tight hole, but not selfishly that you were in pain and he didn’t boast in his lack of ego. Small pleads and whispers spewed from your lips as his own breath hitched, your walls clenching with every thrust.

Burrowing your face in the crook of his neck, you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, Jason’s hips meeting yours with such a lack of rhythm; you knew how desperately he wanted to claim you as his. And soon, you felt yourself come undone underneath him, your body trembling as your orgasm crashes upon you. Jason soon shuddered as he filled you up with spurts of his hot cum, his groans too godly to be heard by your nymph ears.

“Your mine, and I’m yours,” he quivered, still bucking his hips against yours.

‘You’re already mine,’ he whispered, and at that, you knew he was never going to let you go.

[aplaceforhumancorpses]

“Jason?”

Jason is a little different after the pit…

Cryptid!Jason au? Feel free to send asks about him. I’ll respond with little doodles. :)

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Mm. Pain.

Project R au where Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, and Tim Drake have a kinda sorta custody battle (more like argument) about who should take in Danny.

The twist? None of them want to take Danny in and are trying to force him onto the others. Each has valid reasons not to take Danny in, Jason is a crime lord, Dick has had paparazzi trailing him around lately, Tim is still a minor and can't take in anyone, ect. Theres a million reasons for each of them. Unfortunately no one realized Danny was overhearing all of this from another room.

Danny had spent so much time building his dads up in his mind, thinking that when he finally found them everything would be great. He never even considered his dads wouldn't want him. Heck, how was he supposed to know his dads were adopted brothers? He kinda understands how this was weird but...what about him? He didn't really have anywhere to go but...should he just leave?

Maybe that would be for the best...

[sylvemooniet]

Lil snippet of an AU I'm writing, which AK Jason ends up in Joker Junior Tim dimension in a very unfortunate moment.

“What's your name, kiddo?”

But not-Tim couldn't answer, he was just laughing, but he still sounded in despair, as his body was twitching, if it was still reacting to the constant shocks he was receiving before. The tall figure sighed, noticing the little boy wouldn't easily verbalize anything.

“You can't speak, but can you at least understand what I'm saying?”

He nodded repeatedly, still scared by the mysterious man, however, he didn't attack him yet, so he was safe for a while. The little clown couldn't stop smiling, and his sobbing was choked on his throat.

[ihatebrainstorm]

some late night Rogues Gallery AU doodlydodads

context for the below doodle: in Arkham Knight, the Batmobile destroys literally anything it swerves into

[prettypynklemonade]

The Scent of You

A Jason Todd Story

Written by: @prettypynklemonade

Proofread by: @trippinsorrows

cw/tw: sexual themes, obsessive behavior, dub con, mature language, violence, intimacy (If I'm missing any tags pls let me know and I'll edit to add)

We only accept compliments and CONSTRUCTIVE criticisms

Word count: 800

Jason was screwed. 

He wasn’t entirely sure when you became the only thing he was capable of thinking of but it was starting to become a huge problem. 

Starting with Tim thawing him out after a botched patrol on Mr. Freeze because he was too busy zoning out trying to decipher the exact color of your hair, or when Dick had to carry him back to the mansion because he got stabbed in the leg during a fight with Victor Zsasz while thinking about what your favorite coffee flavor might be. 

He'd never been distracted in the field before but he was struggling with caring about that. Struggling with thinking about anything not related to you. Because what was more important than you?

But you couldn’t have been that important to him, right? You’ve only known him for a year and while you’ve definitely gotten closer, there’s no way he was obsessed with you… 

Except… 

He definitely was. 

He found himself thinking about all aspects of you. Writing down notes about how you loved sour candy (the song and the flavor.) How you could recite all of Hamilton from memory, but couldn’t remember if you turned the lights off before you left the apartment. He loved that you were double jointed, but also the clumsiest person he had ever met.

But his favorite thing about you was how you smelled. 

It was never quite the same, but it was always exquisite. Sometimes it was floral, and when he was massaging your scalp after you washed your hair, he wondered if you’d be mad that he used your shampoo to get himself off. 

Other times it was fruity and it reminded him of a ripe peach and how you would get so wet you would drip down his fingers while he was going down on you. 

The worst is when it was musky. Because then he could only imagine the scene of you on your knees taking all of him, like no one had ever done before. 

Your scent drove him crazier than any prank Steph could pull on him, or any villain he could go up against. The way you smelled was an aphrodisiac like no other. There was just one thing missing... 

It all came to a head that night when you walked through the door looking absolutely exhausted. You shut the door behind you, tossed your keys into the bowl on the table and shrugged your jacket off onto the loveseat in the living room. You walked over to Jason who was sitting on the couch watching Vanderpump Rules, not that he would ever admit it to any of his siblings, and plopped down next to him.

You we’re tired as fuck and could only think about the douche who spilled a whole pot of coffee on your apron and later, got so drunk that you had to help carry him to his friends car. 

But Jason’s mind was elsewhere. He smelled you the second you walked in the door, and you smelled off… Like something? No, someone else. He glanced over at your tired face and knew you weren’t aware of how his obsession with your scent was driving him crazy, but he knew what he had to do to fix it. 

He slowly stood, hovering over your worn out body and picked you up, lifting with his knees. You tried protesting, but knew it was futile. When Jason wanted to care for you, there was nothing you could do to stop him. 

He brought you into the bathroom and slowly began undressing you. He took his time. It wasn’t sexual, but it was intimate. Once you were down to just your undergarments, you expected him to be all over you teasing your panties off with his teeth, but he surprised you by lifting your arms above your head, taking your undergarments off and placing your body into the shower. 

He washed your body with great care, allowing you to relax against him while he took his time cleaning the smell of the day off of you, replacing it with what you could only assume was his body wash, because while it definitely didn’t smell like yours, you were too tired to stop him. 

When you both exited the shower, you expected him to be done helping you relax that evening, but with Jason, you could never predict his next steps. He started covering your body with Shea butter lotion and putting your braids in a bonnet. He carried you to your shared bedroom and started looking through his drawer. Before you could protest, he’d had your arms above your head again and his shirt was making its way onto your body. 

You looked down at the black shirt, with the Arkham Knight logo with confusion, but when you glanced up at your favorite person in the city, all he could say, with a glint in his eye, was “I just wanted you to smell like me.”

[varpusvaras]

Based on an idea I got from this ask, also closely related to the vigilante!au with @rooksunday

Bail read through the page. He noted down a few things on it to use for the proposal for the next pre-committee meeting. Bail read through the next page. He noted down a few things on it to use for later.

Bail read through the next page. He noted down a few things. He read through the next page. He noted down a few things. He was sure they would be useful. At least in some way. The words in whatever he was noting were correct, at the very least, were the same ones he had seen being discussed in the last meeting. It would suffice.

He read through the next page. He noted down a few things.

There was a small thud on the desk. Sheltay had put down a cup in front of him. Bail nodded and took it. It was caf.

Sheltay's face was pinched. She was worried. Bail knew that she was, and so was everyone else.

Not much that anyone could do about it, least of all Bail himself.

Bail put the cup down. He read through the next page. He noted down a few things.

Sheltay cleared her throat softly.

"Sir", she said. "Would you not like to take a break?"

A kind suggestion, for some, perhaps. But Bail had grieved before, and he knew very well what would happen if he stopped even for a moment.

He did not have the time to stop.

"A bit later", he said. "Thank you."

He read through the next page. He noted down a few things. He read through the next page. He noted down a few things.

"Sir", Sheltay said. She hesitated for a moment. "I know I'm bold when I say this, but...I think that the Commander wouldn't have wanted for you to be like this."

More kind words for some.

Not for Bail, unfortunately.

"No", he said. "I made a promise to him. So did Breha. We would not abandon what we are all fighting for. We would not abandon his brothers, even if he isn't here."

It had been so important to Fox, for them to keep fighting, for them to not lift Fox above their duty. For Bail and Breha to take care of his brothers for him, as he hadn't trusted anyone else to do so.

Bail would do so. He would, no matter what.

No matter how much everything inside of him was tearing itself apart.

Sheltay sighed softly.

"Of course, Sir", she said, and then stayed quiet.

Bail went back to reading. He read through the next page. He noted down a few things. He read through the next page. He noted down a few things.

He had gotten through twenty-two pages more, when Sheltay's comlink beeped loudly.

"Apologies, Senator", Sheltay said. She went quiet again for a few moments, perhaps reading a message, and then she suddenly pushed a datapad in front of Bail. "Apologies, again, Sir, but there are some news that might interest you too."

Bail pushed the datapad in front of him away and watched as Sheltay put on the newsfeed.

Multiple Republic Officials Accused of Treason - Evidence Brought Forward by A Mysterious Operator

Bail watched as the anchor started to list names, so many names, of people who had, apparently, been playing for the Separatists this whole time.

It was- there were so many names, and the amount of evidence just kept piling up higher and higher, so much so that Bail's head was starting to physically hurt from trying to keep up with it.

Not much is known about the mysterious agent that brought all of this evidence to light. No name, no face, though some have already given him a moniker: the Coruscant Knight. We couldn't think of a more fitting name for this fighter of peace and justice-

Bail stopped listening to the anchor as the news shifted to a recording taken from speeder lanes. The Coruscant Knight intercepts the speeder of Officials trying to escape after the evidence of their treason was brought forward flashed on top of the screen in obnoxiously sized letters, but Bail ignored them too.

He watched as another speeder flew next to the one on the video, and from it, jumped out a man dressed in black and red armor. Bail watched as the man landed on the speeder next to his, and with practised moves, unlocked the cockpit and jumped inside, taking out the driver and crashing the speeder to a nearby building's walkway. The man leaped out of the speeder before it hit the side of the building, landing on the walkway after flipping through the air with more of the same practised ease, before walking over to the speeder, closing the cockpit again and short-circuiting the locks in a span of a few seconds, leaving the passengers securely locked inside of the speeder.

Then he turned around, his smooth, black helmet turning up to look directly at the drone recording him, and in a blink of an eye, he had his blaster out, and the drone was shot down in one, precise shot, cutting the recording at once.

Some more letters were flashing on the screen, the anchor kept talking, but Bail could only stare at the now still image of the man in the armor right in front of him.

It was a different armor, in different colors, with a different pattern, and a different blaster than the one he had seen being used before, but Bail knew him.

He knew him like his own heart.

Bail finally remembered how to breathe again.

"Fox?"

[zoraedits]

Cassandra Cain aka The Orphan

By @zoraedits

⟨don't remove watermark & repost elsewhere⟩

[ghost-bxrd]

Jason didn’t think it could get any worse, but the universe just loves proving him wrong on that front.

Beaten within an inch of his life with a crowbar? Don’t worry buddy, I gotcha. How about we make it worse with some explosives?

Your alternate self got kidnapped and tortured by the Joker? Golly gee, really gotta step up my game now! How about we make him so fucking traumatized he will tell you which knife is best to torture him with?

Fuck. Fucking fuck. Jason wants a fucking refund on this whole dimension travel bullshit. Because this? This is some A-grade clusterfuck. He’d rather deal with goddamn Sionis on crack than— whatever this is. Jesus.

[nightmare-foundation]

Arkham Knight Dick AU writing practice

[Tim and Jason are standing on the ledge of a building overlooking the old memorial. It's broken, burnt, and torn apart, scattered in pieces. Amongst the remains are broken and flaming Militia tanks, the Batmobile sitting nearby. Batman grapples up to them.]

TIM: God... it's just... gone. Completely destroyed. Why would they do this?

[Jason growls, hands tightening into fists. He's completely rigid with rage, shoulders stiff.]

JASON: I'm going to fucking kill that Arkham Knight bastard.

BRUCE: Jason.

JASON: What?! As if that fucker doesn't deserve it! Just fucking look at what he did to Nightwing's- no, Dicks memorial! Don't tell me you don't feel the same way!

BRUCE: Jason, I am just as upset as you are. But-

[Their comms crackle.]

Arkham Knight: Ohh, so now you care. Funny, you care more about a statue than your own son. You always did like monuments dedicated to your own failures.

BRUCE: [Growls] Arkham Knight. Don't you dare assume what I feel.

Arkham Knight: Oh please, I know you better than you know yourself. I know all of you better than you know yourselves. This monument wasn't to honor the fallen, if it was, it would be about the man behind the mask. No, no, no, this is a mockery. A sad, miserable attempt at remembering only the good little soldier you trained and indoctrinated.

TIM: He wasn't a soldier! He was a man, a great one at that! Nightwing was a better man than you'll ever be, and far stronger.

Arkham Knight: Strong? Ha! Don't make me laugh. Nightwing was weak. He let himself be ordered around by the likes of Batman. He couldn't save even a single person, and he let himself be captured. If he were strong- he'd still be here.

[The comms crackle slightly.]

CASS: No. You are wrong. He was... strong. Good. The best... of all of us.

JASON: And we fucking loved him, so don't you fucking dare say we didn't!

Arkham Knight: Hmm... let's say, hypothetically, you're telling the truth-

JASON: It's not hypothetical you fucking shitbag-

Arkham Knight: Hypothetically, you're telling the truth. Did you ever tell him that?

BRUCE: ...What?

Arkham Knight: Did you ever actually show that you loved him? Tell him? Hug him, spend time with him, reciprocate what he told you?

TIM: We- we didn't need to.

BRUCE: He knew we loved him more than anything.

Arkham Knight: Did he?

[The comms click, and they're left in silence.]

[ky-landfill]

[guummy]

ANTIDOTE

pairing : boxer!jason todd ⠀𝒙⠀ fem!reader | words : 0.78k

summary : where jason finds a deep desperation to get rid of his anger using his darling girlfriend after a loss

contents. shower sex, angry jay, p in v sex,

note. thank god i was looking through my google docs bc i found this little gem that i was so proud of yet never ended up posting. if not for my obsession w clean spaces, especially digitally, i would have never posted it. constructive criticism is welcome & enjoy xx

#. main masterlist. | dc masterlist. | jason todd masterlist.

THE LAST THING Jason would ever call himself was a sore loser. If there was a winner, there had to be a loser, and if he ever lost, he’d simply live with it and move on.

However, this loss seemed to pick at his nerves in the worst way.

He was needy, and desperate.

Needy and desperate to claw or strike at something, but instead he decided to spend his time under the water of the locker room showers.

The bathroom was a tint of blue, the walls were light in contrast to the deep ocean hued tiles of the showers, almost opposing the slight temper he still had.

The water littered his skin, painting over his bruises and scars that adorned his body. It soothed him almost, but it couldn’t possibly distract him from the annoyance he felt from his pathetic loss.

He could have won, he knew he could have won and yet he let that chance go. Pounding his fist against the wall, he still craved a chance to cleanse himself of this intoxicating and poisonous distress from his body.

He craved you.

Yet, coincidentally, the one thing he craved the most entered the locker room quietly, trying to avoid fuelling his frustration.

“Jason?” You called out, crossing your arms as you leaned against the lockers, your eyes softly gazing over his bare body. You could easily tell he was tense, the way his body hunched over in disappointment, his muscles tautening under his skin.

“Come here,” he beckoned, resting his back against the shower tiles as he glanced over at your frantic posture.

You raised your eyebrows at his instructing, yet yearning tone, slowly understanding that he didn’t simply want to talk to you but he wanted to rid himself of his turmoil by fucking you senseless. Making your way over to the showers, you stripped yourself of your clothes, stepping into the sauna-like section of the locker room. His hands made their way to your waist as he spun you, pushing your back against the cold wall.

“Fuck, I need you,” he mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder as you fingers gently ran through the soaked strands of his hair. You could feel his semi-hardened cock press against your torso, a small groan leaving his lips as your other hand wrapped around his throbbing shaft, your thumb running over his leaking tip. Turning you in his grasp, he felt you shiver underneath his touch as your front pressed against the wall.

“God, I’m so fucking angry,” he mumbled under his breath, pressing a kiss to your neck as his cock slid inside of you, your gummy walls clenching around his length.

“Fuck ──,” you moaned, closing your half-lidded eyes as his hands gripped tight at your waist, setting a steady pace for himself as his tip brushed against your most sensitive spot. “You deserved to win, baby,” you comforted him, your speech breathless. One of his hands creeped to paw at your breast, the sound of flesh colliding drowned in the shower.

“It should’ve been you,” you hiccuped, whimpers softly falling from your lips as he pounded into you, his tense figure unbinding his temper as he fucked you, your hips meeting his as you clenched around him in desperation.

His fingers pressed into the plump flesh of your stomach as he bullied his girth inside your cunt again and again, you cunt fluttering around his cock, your audible wet and sloppy slick mixed with your gasps and curses.

“Yeah, it should have been,” he grumbled, placing his head in the crook of your neck before he pressed a kiss to your shoulderbone, his movements becoming uncontrolled as he let out muffled groans. “Should’ve been me up there.”

The aching pleasure overwhelmed you that the idea of someone walking in on the two of you had left your mind. Your back arched into his chest as he pistoned in and out of you, forcing your mind into a drunken state.

“You looked so good though,” you whispered, choking on your moans. “I needed you so bad,” you added, confessing that your mind had been consumed by lewd thoughts the entirety of the fight.

“Noticed you staring at me with those eyes of yours,” Jason hummed, chasing both yours and his release as he cradled you in his arms, thrusting against you harder.

Soon, you buckled underneath him as you let out a small cry, gushing over his now softened cock as he filled you up with his load. He let out a small laugh as he felt you tremble, ultimately showing his lack of anger.

“Let’s go home,” you shivered, leaning into his touch as you bathed in the still dripping and warm water of the shower, and all he did was nod.