#dick grayson one shot

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh please expand on your thoughts about Dick being obsessed with reader’s hips and love handles!! What happens when he leaves Jason to go find them???

Initial thought a little suggestive so MDNI 18+ONLY

“You’re fucking whipped!” Jason calls after him as he watches Dick rush off behind you.

Jason doesn’t need to be looking at his brother to know that he’s flipping him the bird.

“I’m leaving, don’t break the bed again.”

“Baby,” Dick walks into the bedroom to find you sitting with your scrapbook and your colourful pens and markers all spread out on your table.

“Yes?” You spare him a quick glance and then look back at your book. You’re trying to arrange your cuttings and scraps from your days in the city with Dick nicely but you’re just not getting the right look.

“C’mere a second,” he’s leaning on the door jam, watching you as you sigh and stand. He gives you a once over and bites his lip. “Fuck.”

“What?” You look down at yourself and then back up at Dick. He doesn’t say anything and you frown. “Richard, what is it?”

He only shakes his head. “You just,” he inhales harshly and he’s got you pressed up against him suddenly; his hands cemented to your hips kneading the fat there. “You’re unbelievably attractive.”

“I’m only in lounge clothes.” You’re trying to not let the effects of his attention be too evident but it isn’t working because Dick can see your pulse tick under your jaw.

“Yeah and you’re stunning. I swear it’s your fucking hips I don’t know what about them but they’re so fucking,” Dick trails off as his hands grope your hips and waist a little harder.

You don’t mind. His nose brushes along your jaw, his mouth nipping at the sensitive skin under it making you shiver.

“Jason is right outside.” Despite your efforts, your voice is breathy and your head cranes back just a little to give Dick more room.

“He went home, just you and me here.” His teeth sink into the column of your neck making you gasp.

“I’m scrapbooking.” You try to deny the way your stomach pools, the heat that pours right into your centre and crawls up your chest making your breath heave.

Dick licks against your neck, sucking a bruise right above your collarbone. “Too busy for me, then? Should I stop?” He’s only teasing, Dick knows that won’t be what you want. He’s proved right when your arms sling around his neck and you pull him closer.

“No, no. Keep going.”

[saylorsaysstop]

Body Heat | Dick Grayson

↪ one-bed trope prompt:  there’s technically two beds available, but it’s freezing cold and everybody knows body heat works best

↪ prompt list here

↪ My Masterlist

The room was frigid. Your teeth chattered as you struggled to warm yourself up by vigorously rubbing your hands up and down your arms. Glancing around the hotel room that you and Dick were sharing while out of town for a Wayne Enterprises event, you didn’t expect the heat to barely work in such a nice hotel. 

The bathroom door opens to reveal Dick strutting out in his boxers, toothbrush in his mouth. He walks over to the bed he was taking for the few nights you’d spend here and check his phone. He glances over and sees you shuddering. 

“I can hear your teeth clacking together from here.” Dick chuckled, tilting his head back so toothpaste doesn’t seep from the corners of his mouth. 

With a low growl, you flip him off. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not a human radiator… Dick.” You grumble. 

Dick’s hand falls to his chest. “Did you just insult me?”

“What are you going to do about it?!” You exclaim. Dick smiles in satisfaction and returns to deposit his toothbrush and swish his mouth. You crawl under the ill-feeling blankets. They were even colder. A string of curses falls from your mouth as you struggle to bring the fitted sheet to your shoulders. You were appalled at how Dick could walk around this freezing hotel room in nothing but boxers. You had your pants on, a long-sleeve shirt, and your fuzzy socks. 

Dick returns and falls into the bed with a comfortable sigh. He cockily extends his hands behind his head and crosses one foot over the other. “It’s a little warm in here.” He comments, knowing it annoyed you. He knew Bruce was serving the two of you by sticking you together. Jason argued that he should’ve roomed with you but with Dick’s Gotham-sized crush on you, it was hard to make him pass up the opportunity.

“You… Are… The worst.” You say between shakes. Dick inhaled and decided to help you out. 

“You know body heat works best.” 

Your attention piques as you twist over your shoulder to look at him. “What?”

“Body heat. The best form of heat you can get.” 

“What are you trying to insinuate?” You narrow your eyes. 

Dick chuckles. “Well, I was going to suggest climbing under the sheets with you and supplying you my skin that you call a radiator. But I can stay over here and let your teeth clink together all night-” 

“No!” You cut him off. “Please. I’m freezing.” 

Dick smiles and leaves his bed to enter yours. He pulls back the covers and raises an eyebrow. “Shirt’s gotta go.” 

Your eyes widen. “What? You’ll see my boobs! No!” 

“Not the first time I’ve seen them. Remember when I accidentally walked in on you?” 

You scoff and rise, taking your shirt off. Thankfully you wore a sports bra. Dick smirks and gets under the sheets with you. “Pants off.” 

“I really don’t see why that’s necessary…” But the words die off your tongue the moment Dick’s extremely warm hand touches your waist. You kicked them off in record time. Once you did, Dick wrapped his arms around you from behind. Your back pressed into the hard surface of his chest, and immediately, warmth soared from your shoulders to your toes. 

You wiggled into his embrace, eliciting a deep grunt from behind. 

“Careful, baby.” He says huskily into your ear. “I’ll warm you up in a very not-so-friendly way if you keep wiggling your ass against my crotch.” 

Stifling your giggle, you lay your cheek against his bicep and curl even further into him.

“Thank you,” You hum as the quiet buzzes between your pressed bodies. Dick tightens his arms around you and nuzzles his mouth into the crook of your neck where he gently blows warm air across your neck, eliciting goosebumps to pepper your skin. 

“Anything for you, princess.” He chuckles, plopping a not-so-friendly kiss on your neck. 

“You know, Dick,” you sigh. “You doing that makes me wonder if you don’t have a teeny tiny crush on me…” 

Your words are followed by a yelp when Dick pinches the corner of your hip. 

“Is that a yes?” You squeak. 

“Go to sleep.” Dick sighs. 

“YOU DO!” You gasp. 

Dick squeezes his arms tightly around you, silencing your laughter with another kiss to your shoulder, one that slowly turns into him skating his lips up to your neck, until finally you’re twisting in his embrace and planting a hot one right on the center of his mouth.

[freakingholland]

Lovebirds times two - YJ!Dick Grayson x fem!reader

A/N: Is this another fluffy fic that contributes to the “Dick Grayson looks gorgeous and can have any woman” trope? Maybe! (yes) But we deserve happy Dick alongside happy Spitfire, okay? I’ll write something agst-ish some time I promise!

Warnings: not proofread! fluffy af, a couple of swear words, slightly suggestive dialogue but nothing nsfw. If I missed anything, please let me know!

Summary: Heroes do get to attend weddings every once in a while. It's especially exciting, when it's a dear friends' ceremony.

Word count: 1.4K +

If you enjoyed my work, you could buy me coffee here: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist (needs a proper update)

_

“I love these two with my entire heart but HOLY FUCK— I really don’t feel like getting ready today…” you whined sheepishly as you were in the middle of putting moisturizer over your freshly washed face. You and your significant other were in the middle of your preparations for your dear friends’ wedding. It was Artemis and Wally’s big day.

“Don’t even get me started. I told you we could get somebody to get your makeup and hair done. You can’t complain now.” Dick responded with slight frustration in his voice. It was obvious that he wasn’t actually mad at you, just not necessarily content with the fact that despite being in a committed relationship for so many years you still had trouble with making use of the benefits that came along with dating one of the Wayne’s sons.

“No, no don’t get me wrong babe I would appreciate that, it’s just— I feel a bit lazy today, wish I could just snap my fingers and get ready magically. If you know what I mean.”

“—plus, I don’t trust people with my face and hair, being comfy in my own skin is my top priority for today. I can’t wait to get there and have fun with our fam. I’ve been really looking forward to tonight.”

Dick walked over from the sink where he was previously finishing brushing his raven, still slightly wet and disheveled bangs. He had a towel wrapped tightly around his hips as he had just gotten out of the shower. The entire bathroom smelled like his strongly, yet freshly scented cosmetics. Seeing Richard in his work uniform and in his Nightwing suit is one thing, but seeing your partner clean and well-rested in the comfort of your shared apartment is another thing. Regardless of your lengthy relationship you still felt butterflies circling around in your stomach at this rare sight.

He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips and rested his chin in the crook of your neck, tickling you with his hair.

“Me too hun.” He responded while exhaling deeply against your bare, moist back. His warm embrace prolonged for another couple of seconds. You could easily tell Dick also felt sentimental about being home and being able to enjoy normal life. Whatever normal life means.

“Kay- I’ll let you do your thing now.” Before leaving the bathroom to start dressing up Dick took your face in his calloused hands and planted a quick kiss on your forehead. Dick crinkled his nose.

“God you’re pretty.” He was shaking his head on his way to your bedroom.

With a genuine smile on your face, you continued with the preparations.

*

You did not let slight sluggishness take over your body and you managed to get ready within an hour. Dick didn’t have the opportunity to see your outfit yet, after he had finished getting ready, he slumped on the sofa to watch TV and kill some time as he patiently waited for you to get ready. You walked into your living room and as soon as your partner heard your shoes click on the floor, he quickly turned to examine your look for the festive night.

“Oh wow- love. You look fantastic.” He quickly got up from the sofa to take a closer look. He soaked up the joy that you brought him with just your groomed appearance and a genuine smile, while eyeing you up and down with a huge grin plastered across his unwearied face.

Dick was wearing a black tuxedo paired with a white button up shirt, a black bowtie, and black oxfords. He also sported a watch with a black leather strap.

“You don't look too bad yourself sir…”

“—who am I kidding, GOD I love your hair! It’s so shiny!”

He chuckled at your answer and swept a strand of his thick bangs to the side.

“I think we should speed up this whole wedding thing and actually rent out a venue, you know?” you continued. After you said that your and Dick’s eyes laid on your engagement ring.

Dick sincerely cares about your wishes when it comes to retaining of your personal aesthetic, it took him a couple of visits at different jewelry shops in Gotham to choose a proper engagement ring. Despite knowing you well he still needed someone’s assistance - or rather mental reassurance that he’s making the right choice. That’s why Dick invited Bruce to participate in the important opting. They ended up choosing a white gold band with a small emerald-cut sapphire.

Talk about cheesiness. But the said cheesiness is one of the reasons why your bond was and is so strong. Your lives don’t stray from the hardships and sorrow in spite of the additional, demanding chapter that is your partner’s and your service as a literal heroes. Both Dick and you have your problems and traumas, but the two of you putting in the effort to communicate well, be patient and to keep your spirits up is what works well - as your relationship’s binder.

“And my hair is all that it takes for you to say that?”

“—I’m starting to get worried that we might be together just because you think I’m so fucking sexy.”

“We’re also together because of your humbleness…” Your answer caused Dick to roll his eyes. The grounding remark didn’t stop him from giving you a peck on the lips. As your lips parted, he threw a quick glance at his watch and slowly started going towards your kitchen. He went to grab a set of keys that was lying on the island, as well as a previously prepared bag of necessities such as band aids and emergency trainers.

“Are we ready my beautiful lady?” he offered you his arm in a jokingly chalant manner. You quickly grabbed your clutch bag and a coat.

“Ummm, I think we are now.” After double checking if you have everything that both of you needed to comfortably celebrate among your dearest companions as well as your precious gift, you started walking towards the door of your apartment.

*

Your best friends’ wish was to get married in Gotham City regardless of it being your usual work location. The ceremony was set to take place in a small palace, close to the border of the city. When you had arrived at the scene it was drizzling, the air felt very humid and had a pleasant earthy scent. But said weather didn’t interfere with the charm of such a special evening.

After the lovely wedding ceremony everyone drove to a beautifully decorated restaurant. The tables looked very minimalistic, even so the entire place was filled with beige and light pink flowers – carnations, lilies, roses. Artemis’ effort really paid off because the place looked both elegant and warm. Partially because of a gentle glow that bathed the entire area.

The newlyweds were beaming with happiness. They looked physically relaxed now that the official part of the evening was over. They were making sure to spare some time for every single guest, whether it was to chat with them or to take a picture. Right before one of the hot meals you managed to catch them and take the two to the side, in order to give them their special gift.

Both of them teared up when you and Dick handed them a large oil painting of the pair, which was based on a photo from a trip that the four of you went on a couple of years ago.

“There is no way! You guys! That’s beautiful, I really don’t know what to say…,” said Wally. Artemis was so taken aback that she remained silent while her now husband continued his thanks. Their eyes were glistening with happy tears and that warmed your heart.

*

You twirled with a slight laugh escaping your lips. Dick’s strong arms quickly embraced your figure to keep you closer to his warm body.

“I’m so glad we chose that photo for the painting. They were in awe.”

“I was in awe when I saw you in that outfit. You’re right, I’m getting us a venue tomorrow.”

“And you laughed at me when I complemented your hair!” you playfully smacked Dick’s chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your faux mad expression. That was the Y/N that he fell in love with.

He slumped his shoulders to close the distance between you two as you softly swayed to the rhythm of a slower song.

“I’m so glad that I have you angel.” He leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Soon to be Mrs. Grayson. All mine.”

-

If you get the “god you’re pretty" reference I love you.

Stay whelmed xx

Tori

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

And you were trapped in this curse (before you ever even knew)

Day 5 of The Long Halloween - event masterlist here

pairing: dick grayson x reader (gender neutral)

length: 8.3k

genre: horror, fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: mermaid dick grayson, witch reader, talk of burning at the stake like one time vaguely, reader almost drowns once

a/n: the trapdoor works bc it's magic and that's the only thing we need to know ok ?? anywaaay here's the one we've been waiting for here's the one we're excited for

"Just one more thing," the mariner says as he tosses the keys to you, watching as you catch them and glance towards the boat that you've just bought. "Don't go in the water."

"Yes," you respond bluntly, watching as your new houseboat bobs and rocks in the waves and tugs at the ropes securing it to the wooden dock. It's a mass of tangled cords weaving through the darkness, and you thumb the keys in your hand as you look back to the mariner. "I know… I've heard."

"Good," he nods firmly, spinning on his heel and beginning to walk away, toward the endless labyrinth of shipping containers and dockworkers and boats pulling in and out of the harbour. "Make sure you keep it in mind. Don't go in the water… for anything."

You watch as he walks away, slipping into the mess of the docks and vanishing from sight, leaving you alone to climb up onto the plank and into your boat - into your new home. It's dark inside, of course, old and musty and crumbling. But it's tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of the docks, away from the city and the police and the witch hunters who walk the winding streets of Gotham. It's safe, or as safe as you can be, practicing the illegal arts. 

A larger wave crashes against the side of the boat and you sway on your feet as the wooden vessel rocks and groans with the movement, the water beating against the sides constantly - as if it's alive, as if it's trying to pull you further under. You know the stories told about the Gotham Harbour - you were warned when you fled to this place.

"Don't go in the water." people say. "There's something out there."

You'd asked around, of course, poked and prodded and peeled back layers of the tall tales that were spun in the darkness of the docks. You're not afraid of it - not the way that the others are. You're a creature of the night, yourself, of course, and things that move in the shadows don't scare you too much these days. It's humans who do the scaring, with their threats and their leering and their witchhunts.

They were small stories, at first - silly little anecdotes that the workers used to tell when their ships pulled into the docks. They would claim to have seen something moving in the water - glimpses of a shimmering, shining, fish-like tail seen out of the corner of their eyes and the faint sounds of a song sung through the fog, tempting and alluring, buzzed through their ears.

But they were harmless - just little stories the sailors would tell for fun to keep one another awake at night while they worked. They were all so sure that it was just tricks of the night and the mist… at first.

But then the casualties started. Sailors began to go missing from ships as they pulled into the harbour and some of them began to swear that they would watch their friends just walk right off the edge of the ship, stumbling and lurching like they were being pulled by something invisible.

"There's something out there," they'd swear. "And it's after us."

But nothing could be proved, of course, and none of the workers hauling illegal magical goods in and out of Gotham by the shadows of night wanted to be caught, so no one went to the authorities. And people just kept… disappearing.

And over time, naturally, the stories began to grow. The size of the tale began to double, then triple, until the tales told of a huge, serpent-like, scaled appendage that had the strength to crack the hull of a ship with one swipe. For some of the smaller vessels, the huge tail would wrap around the body of the ship, snapping it in half and dragging it to the bottom.

It glowed, they said, bioluminescent blues and greens and violets lighting up the water, a shimmering, shining beacon of death moving silently through the blackened depths.

But, you think pointedly as your boat rocks and sways and you swing the door open to let the sea breeze fill the stale interior. It's all speculation - some twisted story to justify the ships that suddenly began to go missing, some kind of hallucination that the survivors spun in the wake of trauma.

As you walk back outside to lean against the railing of the boat and peer into the murky depths of the harbour, you remember what the mariner had said to you when you bought the boat, watching as you'd counted out bills in front of him, both of you insisting on a cash-only transaction.

"The ships still come in and out," he'd said lowly, his arms crossed as he stared out towards the rolling waves. "But folks are getting antsy - scared. Some of the buyers want their shit moved other ways. You know, coming through the city on trucks instead."

"And does that work?" you'd asked absently, stacking money neatly as you half listened.

"Not really," he'd admitted. "It's all still taken to the docks, and… well, you know."

As the boat rocks and you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the conversation, you can't help but let the mariner's words spin around your mind just a bit more. You can't help but picture it in your head - dockworkers, moving through the thick fog that filters through the night, wandering off the wooden edge and into the water like those sailors, pulled and pulled and tugged under by something monstrous. 

Droplets of rain begin to fall from the darkened, thunderous sky and you shiver as you stare down into the water for a moment before crouching. Slowly, carefully, you stick your arm through the railing of your boat and let your fingers dip just below the surface, feeling the icy waters for a moment before pulling back and inspecting your hand.

"Don't go in the water," people had said. "There's something wrong with it. There's something cursed about it." You hum in thought as you try to rub warmth back into your fingers, the freezing sensation from the water sticking to you and travelling up your arm as the rain begins to fall steadily. 

You've heard the stories, you know what Gotham is - a festering breeding ground for illegal magic, with its waters serving as a dumping ground for the pollution that comes with it. Years of it have turned the harbour into a magical chemical wasteland, and you shudder as the coldness seeps further into your skin and begins to turn your fingertips blue. 

"Don't go in the water," people had said, lest you find yourself developing a glowing blue-green tinge and struggling to breathe in air above water - lest you freeze over and stumble back in and fall down into the depths.

Don't go in the water - it will never let you out.

Below the surface of the water, two milky blue eyes stare forward - stare at you. Afternoon rolls into night and days roll into weeks and he watches, lets his tail swish through the water, sending waves crashing against the side of your boat. The vial that you'd been dipping into the water slips from your grasp and into the depths below. But you just sigh, mostly unbothered, before filling a second vial with the murky, darkened substance. 

You're not like the others, he finds - you're not scared of him the way that the others are. You're curious, instead, and it's a curiosity that he finds himself mirroring throughout the days, watching you as you study the water, filling vials upon vials with it and bringing it into your little floating home.

But there is, he realizes over time, still a fear in you. As he haunts the waters underneath your boat, he sees the way you shrink away from the dockworkers - the way you back away from the lights and noises of the city and keep to the relative safety of your boat. He sees your fear and recognizes it - sees it the way that he sees his own.

He knows, somewhere deep and intrinsic, that you're hiding from the same world that he is. And that curiosity in him becomes bravery as he watches you dip that second vial into the water and he sees your fingers, once tinged blue-green and frozen from the polluted waters. They look healthy now, warm and nimble as they pop the cap onto the vial. He stares, as much as he can with his milky, clouded eyes, down towards his own hands and wonders, ever so hopefully, if you can help him, too.

So he watches. And you, in turn, watch back. You begin seeing it, every now and then and out of the corner of your eye - glimpses of a large, powerful, scaled tail. Flashes of that glowing blue-green hue. Whispers of a song over the breeze. And that curiosity that he's become so fond of as he circles your boat in the darkness of night, trying his best to watch you - he finds that curiosity mirrored as you lean over the railing, eyeing him through the rippling waves. 

It's late one night, the moon hanging low in the darkened sky as the waves roll through the harbour, when he swims idly through the waters underneath your boat. He wonders, ever so curiously, if all people like you are so clumsy as you drop a vial you'd been working with, the dropper in your hand falling into the waters below and sinking towards the bottom. You sigh, a long-suffering sort of thing as you grip onto the railing and try to balance with the boat's swaying and rocking. 

You're standing slowly, your hand still wrapped tightly around the wooden rail when something crashes out of the water towards you. You lurch back a bit, your feet unsteady on the damp wood, but a strong arm wraps around your waist and keeps you upright while you stare at the being in front of you.

The creature haunting the Gotham Harbour, the monster of the deep, the serpent stalking the waters and pulling sailors to their deaths. Here he towers before you, his arm retracting away from you so that he can prop himself up on the railing of your boat and let his lengthy, scaled tail swish through the water beneath him.

You slip towards him as the force of him - as the weight of his enormous finned tail tips the boat ever so slightly and brings you closer to him. He looks down at you, leaning forward with his human torso as his eyes, milky and blurred, stare down and you grip onto the railing between the two of you in an effort to keep yourself upright.

When your knuckles brush against the jagged scales, though, an intricate pattern of blues and greens and violets scraping against your skin, he hisses and bares sharped, razor-like canines at you.

But you just blink, tipping your head back to look up at him - at his eyes and the white swirls clouding them over. Because you know what it looks like when magic rots you from the inside, when it eats away at you and turns you into something nightmarish. And you've been studying this water - you know of the pollution and the poisoning and the horrors that it causes. 

So you reach, out of instinct perhaps, towards him. You reach as your eyes sweep over his hair, bluish-black and dripping, over the water droplets that run down his abs and towards the gills covering his ribs, twitching and fluttering and struggling. You reach, and you're not all too surprised when he hisses again and lurches away from you.

But he reaches a cold, wet hand towards you instead of fleeing further and all but throws something at your chest, making you stumble back with a huffed breath and grab it before it falls. And it's the vial, you realize numbly as you stare down at it in your hands - the one that you'd dropped. His claws, you notice slowly, have hit you, too - ripping through your shirt just a bit and prompting little trails of blood to ooze out, darkened by the blanket of night that covers the two of you. 

"You -," you begin, but the creature is already pushing himself away from the railing, diving gracefully back into the water with a deadly silence and leaving you with your head spinning and your lungs burning as you stare at the water where he once appeared. 

Admittedly, the next time you drop something over the edge of your boat, it's more intentional than it usually is, and you crouch rather close to the water with your arms wrapped around your knees while you wait to see if he'll show up again. Sure enough, it's mere moments before he propels himself out of the water and drops the lost object onto the wooden deck, staring toward you with those milky, vacant eyes. 

You stand slowly while he stares, his arms propping him up on the railing while you move towards him. He stays still, this time, tense and unwavering as you step closer and look at his faded, unfocused eyes.

"I can help you," you say, pointing first at your own eyes and then at his. "Let me?" He just stares, though, white, glazed eyes looking on as the gills that line over his ribs twitch and shiver, morphed and altered by the harbour waters, forgetting the feel of the clean, cool oceans. He can't leave, you realize. Gotham Harbour has ensnared him, turned him into a monster that could only ever exist and survive here. 

He disappears as you study him, slipping back into the murky, blackened water and leaving you sighing, your shoulders slumping in momentary defeat. 

But then you hear it, a faint banging sound coming from inside your home - and you lurch, moving to rip open the door.

You see it then, the trapdoor that you have partially covered by a rug and the latch trembling with the force of something shoving at it from underneath. You move forward in a rush, after staring and blinking and letting your mind reel for a moment, to unlock the latch and let the trapdoor swing up and open, wrinkling the rug and covering it in that cursed harbour water as the creature pulls himself up through the opening and leans on his arms to look at you.

You stare, mouth slightly open as you take in the creature in front of you, letting his tail swish and move in the waves beneath him and dripping water onto your floor. 

"…Help me," he says slowly, and his voice is smooth, soft and sing-songy in a way that makes you walk towards him and fold yourself down onto your knees to look at him face-to-face.

"You can speak?" you ask in lieu of a response. He frowns, his dark, water-slicked brows bunching together as he stares in your direction. 

"There is a part of me that's human, after all," he says quietly. You huff out a breath and reach for him ever so slowly, letting your fingers hover for just a moment before making contact with his cheek. He makes a surprised little noise, jerking his head away from you for a second before shifting on his palms and leaning back into your touch.

"Thank you," you murmur quietly as you trace a finger over his brow bone before letting your forefinger hook under his chin so that you can tilt his head slowly and look at his eyes. 

"Can you… fix it?" he asks slowly, a hesitance in his smooth, silky voice.

"I can," you respond simply, smiling ever so lightly even though you know he probably can't really see it. "I said I'd help you… and I will."

It's a slow process, of course, to begin to heal and change him after that, bringing the colour and life back to his eyes. It's weeks of him pulling himself up through the trapdoor in the bottom of your boat to let you poke and prod at him, giving him various vials to drink from and coaxing him to tip his head back so that you can drop strange liquids into his eyes.

It's difficult for him, you know, odd and uncomfortable and frightening. So you don't mind, really, when he hisses and snaps his teeth and grabs your arm to dig his blue-black claws in until blood runs down your skin. He doesn't mean to, you know. So you let him.

And it works, much to his delight - the magic you use on him begins to soothe the symptoms of the polluted water. He's still this thing, of course, he'll never go back to being a regular mermaid, but he's not in pain - not the way he was before. His eyes don't burn and his head doesn't feel light and dizzy anymore, riddled with haziness and pain. 

Eventually, the white milkiness fades and his irises shine blue once more - it's not the blue they used to be, you're sure. They're vibrant and glowing and unnatural, but they're blue and they're his and he can see the world through them, finally. He can see you - really see you for the first time. 

"Hi," you breathe quietly, a smile flitting gently across your lips as you watch him blink rapidly, his eyes glancing quickly around the space to take in his surroundings properly for the first time in so, so long. 

And then, of course, his eyes find their way back to you, kneeling on the cold, wooden floor so that you're at eye level with him and looking at him with those big, hopeful eyes of yours. He reaches for you, then - he can't help it, not when you're kind and gentle and staring at him like he's something precious. You let him, though your brows shoot up in surprise when he leans forward.

"You're beautiful," he says lowly, close enough to you that his breath touches your face. You make a small, surprised sort of sound and glance away from him, but he reaches for you with a firm hand, cupping your cheek and smashing his lips against yours in a firm kiss. You make a high-pitched, surprised noise somewhere in the back of your throat and when he pulls away you shift on your knees, clearing your throat and looking at him in bemusement. 

"Thank you," he says simply, and you nod and hum in mock understanding.

"I'd like to, uh, I'd like to try fixing your gills a bit, too - if you'd let me." The grin that he gives you in response to your request makes you bite your lip in immediate regret.

"I think I'd let you do just about anything to me now," he says flippantly. You sniff indignantly and rub a hand over your face harshly, but cold, smooth fingers wrapping around your wrist stop you. 

"Oh, that's just…" but you trail off as he pulls up your sleeve slowly, revealing dark, crimson welts where he'd dug his claws into you so many times. You stay still as he stares, holding your breath as he runs a delicate finger over the cuts and looks unblinkingly down towards them.

"It's… it's ok," you say slowly. "It's alright."

"Seems like such a monstrous thing to do, doesn't it?" Dick says, ignoring your words. "To hurt the thing that's trying to help you." When he looks up at you then, you take notice of his clear, unblemished eyes for the first time. They're sharp and flashing, the deep blues and violets swirling in them as they draw you further, further, further in. 

He looks… dangerous, you realize sluggishly. He looks a bit like a wild animal, and as the waves beneath your boat crash against the wooden hull and water sloshes up from the opening onto his torso and your floor, you think, rather distantly, about the stories of the creature who haunts the harbour - who drags people to the depths. 

"Are you?" you ask quietly as your heart hammers against your ribs. "Are you a monster?" His grip on you tightens and you find yourself entranced by the shimmering colour of his eyes - a part of your mind begins to panic, begins to try to break away, but you find that you just… can't. 

"Oh, I wasn't always," he murmurs lowly. "But I think I am now. I think I was turned into one, don't you?"

"No…" you respond slowly, placing your hand over his where it grips your wrist and watching as the touch seems to shock him out of whatever trance he'd been in. "I think that's up to you." He blinks at you for a moment then, reeling, it would seem, from the entire interaction before he looks back down and sees the way he's gripping your arm, the cuts blemishing your skin there, oozing thin trails of red over his hand. 

You sigh in relief, much to your own guilt, when he wrenches his hand away from you and steadies himself as water sloshes up against him. As he breathes deeply and runs a cold, blue-tinged hand through his hair roughly, you stand and turn to rummage in a chest for bandages and ointment and whatever else you need.

"I didn't -" he starts.

"I know," you cut him off, tucking yourself into a chair some distance away from him and rolling up your sleeve so that you can dab at the wounds gently. "It's alright."

"Then why won't you look at me?" he asks, and there's a harsh edge to his voice that makes you pause. It's a divergence from his normal smooth, silky voice that wafts over the breeze and has sailors stumbling towards him in a haze. It's wavering, now, jagged and honest and it makes you huff out a breath.

"Careful," you quip, but you still don't look up. "You sounded almost human there." You hear him sigh quietly and the waves rock the boat as he shifts his stance and pulls himself up and further out of the water. 

"What are you doing?" This time you do look at him, throwing down the bandages that you'd been unravelling as he pulls himself further into your boat, letting his tail propel himself out of the water until he's laying almost on his back on your floor, propping himself up on his elbows and tipping his head back to stare at your ceiling as he drips water onto your rug.

"You're overextending your welcome, Dick," you say eventually, but there's a distinct lack of bite in your voice and his lazy grin proves that he knows that it's not a real jab, not when you say his name so sweetly - the name that he's whispered against you like a secret all those nights ago.

"I'm looking at your home," Dick responds easily, and you follow his gaze up toward the dried herbs hanging from your rafters.

You sigh, then, rolling your neck to try to ease some of the tension as you gather your first aid kit and bring them back toward him. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you kneel beside him once more, your knees hitting the soft rug with a dull thud as you begin unravelling the bandages once more.

Dick rolls onto his side to face you, though, propping himself up on just one elbow and reaching to take the bandages from your hands and coax you into giving him your arm. 

"You're a bit hot and cold, aren't you?" you observe quietly, your voice a low murmur as he takes your injured arm so delicately in his hands and begins wrapping the bandages over the damaged skin.

"I don't mean to be," he answers honestly. You just shrug.

"I don't mind… I think we all are sometimes," you say honestly. He glances up at you, the blue of his eyes shimmering as he draws his brows together.

"You've only been kind to me."

"You haven't known me that long," you point out, but he just shoots you a scathing look.

"You might… just not give yourself enough credit," he offers as he finishes bandaging your arm, securing it and smoothing his hands over it to ensure that everything is as it should be. "I think you're a good person," he says earnestly.

"I think you're a good person, too," you reply easily, but he freezes at your words for a moment before he pulls his hands away from you and rolls onto his back, letting his shoulders thump against your rug as he lays his hands over his stomach.

"There's not much of me left that could be seen as a person," he says quietly, and as his tail swishes, it bumps against the side of the trapdoor opening. Glancing at it for just a moment, you wonder how big it really is - how far down into the icy, blackened depths it really goes.

"I don't know," you start, and your teasing tone has him narrowing his eyes at you as you raise yourself up to shuffle closer on your knees and lean over him, bracing your hands on either side of his head as you look down at him scrutinizingly. "Your eyes look pretty good to me. Almost human."

He makes a face at that, wrinkling his nose as he lifts his hands off of his stomach to let one wrap gently around your wrist and the other smooth over the back of your thigh where you're still leaning over him.

"I don't care for being human," he huffs. "Just not… this." You let your eyes flicker over his torso at his words before they settle on the gills lining the sides of his ribs. He watches, one hand still trailing up and down the back of your thigh as you shift your weight slightly. When you place one hand overtop of the gills ever so gently, your palm just barely brushing against them, you watch as they twitch and move. 

"I said I'd help you with that, didn't I?" you murmur, looking down at the way they move underneath your touch. 

"That was -" he starts, and he looks away with a bashfulness - with a guilt that doesn't look like it belongs. "That was before I hurt you."

"Oh, I don't mind," you respond easily, shifting your weight back onto your palms where they now rest on either side of his head again. "Just as long as you never look at me like that again." You lean down as you speak, comforting the guilty look in his eyes with a kiss on his cheek that has him sighing underneath you. 

"I think you should keep it unlocked," he says quietly, and you hum in confusion before glancing at the lock of the trapdoor and grinning just a bit.

"What, you planning on dropping by?" you quip, but one of his arms slides around your waist and he pulls you closer to him, your thighs widening as he tugs you down. 

"Probably," he answers easily, and you huff a bit.

"What if something else decides to come pay me a visit, hm?" You say it mostly as a joke, but Dick's look sours and you catch a glimpse of his sharp, deadly canines as his lip curls in unhappiness.

"I won't let that happen," he offers firmly, his grip on you tightening. "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Well," you say, a bit breathless. "I guess I have nothing to worry about, then."

"You're distracting me," you murmur, sighing long-sufferingly when you're met with nothing more than a watery giggle in response to your chastising. You're sitting on the edge of your boat, cross-legged to keep your feet from touching the water as your hands flit over his gills to check the progress of their healing. 

But his hands roam over you, too, smoothing over your ribs and twirling your hair through his cold fingers as he watches you work. Below you, somewhere in the impossible, twisted depths of the harbour, his massive tail thumps against the underside of the boat and tips you forward until your forehead knocks against his chest and he giggles again in that tantalizing, siren-like way of his.

"Really, Dick," you continue as you plant a hand on the smooth, cold skin of his chest to steady yourself and huff in mock annoyance. "You should be much better now. Is it… do they feel different?"

"Of course," he answers quickly, but when you purse your lips in annoyance, he grins flippantly and you feel his twisted gills twitch under your fingers. "They do," he assures gently, a bit more serious this time. "I… I feel like I can breathe again. I feel like…" 

He stops then, looking out towards the docks and the endless, tangled maze of shipping containers and docked boats as you watch him. You smooth your hand more firmly over his side as another wave rocks the boat and you wonder, with a bit less concern than perhaps you should have, if it's him that's churning the waters down below - or if there's something else down there in the blackened depths. 

"You're free now," you supply for him when he doesn't finish speaking, and he starts in surprise and snaps his gaze to you, looking at you imploringly with those widened, twisted blue eyes.

"Free?" he asks haltingly.

"Mhmm," you nod slowly. "It's… I don't know. It's this place, isn't it? It's that water." You reach up as you speak, smoothing his bluish-black hair out of his eyes and pressing your lips together as you consider how to explain it - how to define the twisted curse of this place that you've both found yourselves trapped in. 

"It's like, once you're here," he begins, pausing and looking out towards the vast harbour, the endless darkness of the water seemingly swallowing the sunlight that touches it. "Once you're here… you can never really leave."

"It's… yea. Something like that," you agree, chewing your lip as you roll his words over in your mind. And it's like he knows - it's like those impossibly blue eyes can look right through you when he stares, because he taps his finger against your hip and you blink up at him.

"What about you?" he asks softly. "What curse is keeping you here?"

You open your mouth to respond, to say something in comfort as the twisting trap of the harbour looms behind you, but a noise on the dock startles the two of you.  By the time you realize that it's a couple of dockworkers wandering too close to your secluded little safe haven, he's already slipped from your grasp, disappearing into the icy, cursed waters below and sinking to somewhere where you can't follow.

Huffing a bit, you stand and stretch and stare out towards the water for just a moment before heading inside. And as you look out, as you stare and hope and wait, you see the ripple of something breaking through the surface - you see the shimmering, finned tail pop out of the water just enough so that you know… he's still down there. He's right underneath you, haunting the waters that he now calls home. 

"I'm going to start keeping that locked again if you don't stop doing that," you say breathlessly as you put a hand over your heart. The trapdoor at the bottom of your boat had just been swung open rather abruptly, slamming against the wooden floor so that he can pull himself out of the water.

"Why are there so many people searching the docks for you?" is all he says in response, his eyes flashing as he stares intently towards you. You just sigh and move to sit next to him, crossing your legs on the plush carpet and leaning on your palm as you look at him.

"They're witch hunters," you say simply. "This is illegal, you know."

"But you help people," he presses, something swirling in his eyes as he leans closer to you in anger. "What will they do to you when they find you?"

"Haven't you seen the smoke?" you shrug, leaning back and blinking as the intensity rolling off of him in waves makes you dizzy. "They're witch pyres."

"What?"

"It's a death sentence," you explain patiently. "If they can prove that someone's using witchcraft, it's… there's a death penalty. They're just hanging around to see if they can catch me. They can't arrest me without proof."

He stares at you, then, for a moment long enough that you shift where you sit and sigh deeply. But then he turns to stare out of one of the glazed windows, eyeing the flickering shadows of the world outside as if every one of them is a threat.

"Why not stop, then?" he asks quietly, keeping his gaze on the window.

"Stop?" you splutter. "Why would I?"

"Because you'll die," he says firmly. You smile gently, a bit too at ease with the whole thing than he is.

"We all die for something," you say softly. "I may as well die for living." He looks back at you, then, something large and sad and haunting in his gaze as he stares down at you. A bit of water sloshes up onto your floor as his tail trashes through the water below and you cock your head to the side in question as you wait for him to speak.

"I thought that once, too," he says slowly - haltingly, like the words scrape at his throat on their way out. "I thought that, when the poachers caught me - when they shipped me to this place like cargo. And when I escaped… I thought these waters would kill me."

"But isn't it better," you respond softly, smoothing a hand over his heart as he looks down at you with furrowed brows, his hair dripping water down his face. "To die free, in the seas, instead of in a cage?"

"That's what I thought," he nods.

"And now?" you ask slowly. A frown tugs at his lips and he sighs as he looks down at you, his lips pressed together into a thin line. 

"Now I wonder… if this is what this place has turned me into… what will it do to you?" You straighten at his words, huffing out a breath in surprise as he stares imploringly at you. But then you clear your throat and let your gaze rake over his figure. Glancing at the gills that now sit healthy and fluttering, at the crystal clear gaze of his eyes and the steady beating of his heart.

"Don't say it like there's no going back," you say instead of really answering. "I can't turn you back into what you were before, but you're whole again now, aren't you? You're free, remember?" He just sighs at that, though, and lets his eyes close as he leans forward to press his forehead against yours. Droplets of water drip from his face onto yours, leaving tangled trails of shining, cold wetness over your cheeks.

"But what will you do, then?" he asks quietly. "If I'm not here to keep you safe?"

"I'll be alright," you whisper back, smoothing a hand over the back of his neck to rub soothing circles into his skin with your thumb as you let your eyes flutter closed.

Dick's hand finds your waist and he tightens his grip, his fingers pressing in as if you'll disappear if he doesn't hold on. He thinks of it - of the wide blue seas, of the breeze and the rolling waves and sun beating down. He thinks of the freedom beyond this tangled web of darkness and something painful tugs at his heart.

As he opens his eyes and tilts his head back to look down at you, small and alive and looking up at him with a trust that he's never known before, he wonders if perhaps this is the real curse of Gotham. It's not that you can't leave - it's that, suddenly, you find that you never really want to.

But, of course, the stories have continued to rage on outside of your little safe haven, and whispers spread through the tangled streets about the creature in the deep… and now those stories include you. People have begun speculating that there's a witch practicing in the harbour, and stories tell of someone helping the monster of the water, making him stronger and more powerful and more capable of harm than ever before. 

And you hear them, of course, the tales and the rumours and the fear that begins to spread. It seeps into your home, oozing through the wooden planks and wrapping around you at night as you sit alone, no longer finding company in the blackened waters below.

You sent him away, you remind yourself. You gave him freedom and now he's gone. It's a fact that you remember with a startling zip of panic one night, when the moon hangs low and your breath fogs in front of your face as you wind through the maze of the docks quickly and quietly.

It's not often that you leave your boat these days, but it has to happen sometimes - and judging from the glinting stares of the dockworkers, you're not the only one who knew that. You know that you're being followed - you know how this night will end. The law may have to wait for proof to see you dead, but the poachers slinking around the docks and hauling illegal cargo aren't bound by such rules, and the menacing cloud hanging over you proves that. 

You freeze suddenly, jerking yourself out of your thoughts as you stare out at the dock in front of you - at the raging water beyond and the poachers that you can see just beyond the shipping crates. You have nowhere left to run, you realize haltingly. There is no safety to be found for you on this cursed night.

You think idly, as you stare out towards the abandoned waters, about what he'd said to you before you'd sent him away. You'll die for this, he's promised. If you set me free and you stay behind, you'll die in this cursed place.

Of course I will, you'd thought. But you hadn't expected it to be so soon. A thunderous wave crashes up onto the wooden dock and you consider, for just a moment, how lucky you may be to die free, standing on the edge of this curse and leaning out towards the open seas. 

And then you hear it, the dull footsteps and the jeering of approaching poachers, violence dripping off of them and staining the space between you all. You see it, the glint of a knife being pulled from somewhere hidden, the rolling shoulders of a man succumbing to fear.

And then… and then…

The huge, finned tail of a creature born of cursed nightmares and vengeance, breaking the water's surface to arch high overhead and make everyone stumble to a halt. You think, rather alarmed, that you really, really hadn't realized just how much of him he'd kept unseen - you notice it for the first time as the sheer size of the scaled tail fills the sky above you, the shimmering, thick fins blocking out the moonlight and casting a great, swallowing shadow over the dock in front of you. 

And then it moves, swift and powerful enough to send a gust of wind in your direction, tearing through your hair as you watch the tail smash through the wooden dock between you and the poachers. They scream, panicked and stumbling as the dock splinters and cracks and crumbles underneath you all, and the tail simply raises again to slam down a second time, now aiming directly for the men.

You hear it, as you stumble and misstep, the wooden planks collapsing beneath you - you hear the sickening cracks of the poachers being slammed by the tail, crushing them as they scream.

But then the wood under your feet finally gives way, and you find yourself plummeting into the icy, darkened waters below.

And these waters, you recall in a hazy, far away sort of way, aren't fit for humans - even ones like you. Dark and cold and murky, it burns and freezes and blurs out your mind and thinking. Stay out of the water, you think as you sink further down, down, deep towards the bottom, the faint lights of the dock disappearing above.

Stay out of the water - or it will never let you out.

You notice it in a sort of trance, as if it's happening to someone else and you're watching through a window - you can almost feel it, the arms that wrap around you, cold and firm. You can almost feel the water move around you as he begins to pull you up, out of the impossible depths and back towards the surface, towards the light and the warmth of the open night sky.

The water is impossible to see through, dark and muddy and hazing your vision, but you can see, through the cloudy ripples, the bioluminescent glow of his tail - like pinpricks of light, blue and violet and green, swirling all around you. 

You let your eyes try to follow the lights, but they twist and move and spread so far away that they fade into the depths, and the sight has you choking out a gasp and spluttering as the toxic water begins to fill your lungs - it has you reeling as you wonder, yet again, just how monstrous his figure really is.

But then the trapdoor of your boat is being slammed open from underneath and he's pulling you out of the water to lay you onto the plush rug in your home, letting you cough and splutter and gasp for breath. You tremble and shake, the cold from the water seeping into you and freezing you from the inside out as your lungs struggle and burn from the air you're trying to gasp in.

Dick's learned, though, you think distractedly as you watch him pull himself up and out of the water after you. He understands the witchcraft that you do and the potions that you make. It doesn't take long for him to have you pressed against him, curled into his chest as he brings vials to your lips gently, urging you to drink until your lungs begin to expand properly and your eyes focus on him.

By the time your mind begins to clear again, your chest rising and falling in a steadier pattern as your breathing evens out once more, Dick's laying on the rug next to you, curling around you in a protective sort of embrace, and you sit up just enough to see the beginnings of his tail winding around you as well until you're in a makeshift sort of nest. As your eyes follow his tail through its twists and curls and settle on where it continues down into the murky water, you can't help but think back to the impossible power of it that you'd witnessed before. 

"Don't move," he murmurs sternly, tugging you back down to press you against his chest again. You're still shaking, trembling from the cold that still lingers under your skin, and the sight makes him frown as he swipes a thumb over your lips as they stay stained blue from the freezing temperatures of the water. His skin, as he shifts against you, you're sure doesn't help - always cold to the touch, always inhumanly freezing. 

"Just let me get something," you respond quietly, your voice raspy from the strain you'd put on your throat and lungs. A frown tugs on his lips, but he lets you stand on shaky legs and take just a few steps away from him to snatch the blanket off of the back of your armchair before you're stumbling back to him. That frown of his doesn't begin to ease until he's got you pressed against him again, the blanket tucked securely around you and his hands flitting around, smoothing down the fabric and tucking in the corners.

"I thought you were gone," you admit softly, your face pressed against his chest. His hands still a bit before he's smoothing a palm over the back of your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

"I wouldn't leave you like this," he responds gently, his voice soothing in that soft, slow way of his. "I couldn't leave you to do this alone."

"But what about you?" you push. "Don't you want to go home?" Dick sighs at that, wrapping the blanket tighter around you where it's begun to slip off of your shoulder. 

"There's something about this place," he muses, like there's a point that he's sidestepping - like there's something that he doesn't want to admit. "I guess I couldn't really find it in me to - there's something about… I don't know, this place. This city and this harbour and… and you. It's like I'm rooted here."

"I'm… sorry," you offer gently. He just places a soothing kiss to your cheek and squeezes you gently in his arms as if to say it's not your fault. This isn't your curse. This isn't your trap.

"I think…" he begins slowly, smoothing a hand up and down your spine. "That there may not be anything for me out there anymore. Not… not with this curse of mine" He glances down at himself as he speaks, at his twisted tail and the way the scales ripple and catch the light. You may have healed his pain, sure, but not even you could turn him into what he was before.  He's this monster now, warped and twisted and deadly… and that's just the way it is, he thinks. 

"I suppose," you respond slowly. "There's no breaking curses like ours. Maybe there really is no escaping this place."

"But is it so bad?" he offers gently, crooking his forefinger under your chin to make you look up at him, to sweep his thumb over your bottom lip once more and feel the warmth returning to you, flushing your skin. "Is it so horrible to share a curse like this?"

"No," you murmur as his lips find yours, soft and gentle and cold to the touch. "Maybe it's not."

"And besides," Dick adds, a humour seeping into his voice that has you narrowing your eyes in suspicion. "It seems you clearly need something lurking in the water to look out for you."

"Um… do you need to deal with that?" The woman you're speaking to is staring at the trapdoor in the bottom of your boat with a concerned sort of shock as the hinges rattle and the lock creaks.

"What? No, no, it's -" you say as you slam your foot onto it, stomping the wood aggressively. "It's just the waves." She's looking at you like she doesn't believe you, and the banging sound that's coming from the trapdoor isn't helping much, you're sure.

"Alright, I - um, that's right. I - I have your payment here," the woman continues politely, handing you an envelope. You flip it open to count the bills in it quickly, keeping one foot planted firmly on the rattling trapdoor. It may be illegal, this practice of yours, but condemning witchcraft has yet to make it unhelpful. Even now, months after your move to Gotham, you have a steady stream of customers slipping into your boat and asking for your help. 

  "Ok, come back soon!" You call as the woman makes a hasty exit after you've approved her money, glancing back to the trapdoor with a scared sort of look before she disappears. 

It's once she's gone, then, that you lift your foot and unlock the latch before stepping back just in time for Dick to throw the door up and open with a loud bang. 

"Why did you lock it?" he huffs as he pulls himself up, catching the towel that you toss to him.

"I always lock it when I have customers," you sigh good-naturedly, sitting next to him and watching as he hastily dries off himself, keeping the polluted harbour water away from your rug. "We really… we really can't be seen like this."

"I don't know what you mean," Dick sniffs indignantly, but the sly look that he shoots you as he tosses the towel aside says otherwise. You let him get away with it, of course, doing nothing but settling further and letting him sprawl himself across your lap. 

"I'm serious," you say, but you begin to card your fingers through his hair gently as you chastise him and you watch as he lets his eyes flutter closed, his tail swishing through the water below you and rocking the boat in soothing movements. "All of us have to be careful. There are rumours of a purge going on - people are even talking about bringing the vampire hunts back."

"Vampires?" Dick opens one eye to squint up at you. "In Gotham? That can't be true."

"You'd be surprised," you murmur, but you shush him nonetheless, letting him close his eyes again as you smooth over his furrowed brows with your thumb. 

"You're not… you're not really upset, are you?" he says slowly - quietly, like he's afraid of the answer.

"With you?" you respond easily. "No, never." You lean down to kiss him, then, delicate little things placed first on his lips and then across his face as he relaxes against you. You both know, by now, that you're not really upset. How can you be? When you have a home and a practice and a rather vicious guard dog who loves you so much.

How can you be upset? With this life that you've built for yourself and this curse that you've tamed.

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 27: Remains of the day - DC Characters x CorpseBride!Characters

Pairing: Dc Characters x Fem!Reader

Warning: Mentions of being dead (?) Not very much, brief mentions of characters joining the afterlife but again, nothing graphic.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Tiny blurbs of what my take of Dc Comic!Muses x CorpseBride!Fem!Reader would be like!

Notes: Loosely based off of the Corpse Bride universe, kind of cute I love it.

Bruce Wayne: Honestly I think he would secretly loooove it. He would be confused as hell at first, trying to remain calm as he sees you emerge from the earth. When you seem overwhelmed with joy that “the love of your unlife” has come for you, he immediately sees how tragic this situation is. I like to think Bruce would be the wiser out of the group and before he would reject you, instead he lets you go on. When you cling onto his side and beg him to follow you to the underworld, things get feisty. He has a whole different life to follow and you just want to take him from it? Expect some fight back from him. Bruce would definitely find a way to outwit you, similar to Victor, but throughout the time he spent with you, I wage he would try his best to find a way to bring you back. Lazarus pit here we come. My argument is that Battinson thinks with his heart before his head, don’t fight me on this.

Jason Todd: HEAR ME OUT. There’s something so poetic about the undead bride and technically undead Jason Todd. As soon as he puts two and two together, it hits his weak spot. He DOES NOT have the heart to push you away, instead he kind of feeds into your delusions because he himself, is delusional. If we’re in the CorpseBride!Universe then technically he can venture to both sides (?) because he’s kind of a zombie (?) it’s up in the air. However, it warms his heart to have someone so excited to marry him and kind of be their savior (?) he absolutely adores your admiration and devotion to it and he’s more than happy to relish in it. “I guess I’m married now.” With a smile to himself LMFAO.

Dick Grayson: He wouldn’t fight it at first, more confused and wanting to help. “Why does this have to happen to me?” Kind of mentality. He wants to help you, he’s not sure what the hell you are and he’s doing his best to clarify that he’s not married to you and that it was an accident. Whenever he sees you slouched over in defeat, he tries to find a way to cheer you up though and he would absolutely do his best to try to help your situation. If you’re absolutely set on him, he will do his best to try to let you know that you just met and he would need to get to know you. Reluctantly, he would get to know you and when he ends up getting to know you, he will absolutely look for a loophole for your situation.

Harley Quinn: She would be over the moon!! At first she would absolutely be confused and pushing herself away, but you would definitely sweep her off her feet when you woo her. You’d have to explain to her where you came from and your tragic end. It would be a 50/50 chance whether or not she would jump on it right away. She would get excited trying to plan a wedding, but be unsure about spending the rest of her life in the afterlife. If you make it painless, she would do anything to be with you. Harley would embrace your unlife, but it would kill her to leave all her friends behind.

Poison Ivy: She would try to explain to you that it was a mistake at first. Practicing or however she ended up placing a ring onto your finger, it wasn’t her proposing to you. Ivy would hear you out, listen to your story and how you ended up where you did. She would offer to help you avenge your death and throughout the time she would grow a liking to you, especially with your charm rather than her pitying you. Maybe later on in this afterlife she would go looking for you if you haven’t found anyone by then.

[spasmsofthought]

there is no fear now (dick grayson x reader)

been a little while, so i might be a little rusty, but this came so suddenly and i had to get it out.

THIS remix of "unconditionally" by katy perry is to blame for all of these words.

i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know you are deserving and worthy of being loved without reservation or shame.

not proofed or beta'd so please be kind.

xoxo

+++

Maybe the problem is that you don't think.

It might explain the way you're operating on auto-pilot as you make your way to his apartment. It might be why he's been keeping his distance from you. It might be why his texts are shorter and why he says he's too busy to stop by your place of work.

He knows there's something that's changing, that will change.

Given his background and how much is going on in his life currently, it's logical that he would be resistant to change. Especially a change like this.

Your knock on his apartment door is loud, unashamed.

It's like someone tied a knot in your gut and has been pulling and tugging you to where you have landed yourself in front of his door.

Maybe the problem is that you have always jumped into everything headfirst.

There's no thoughts about self-preservation or how you might embarrassing yourself as the door swings open.

His blue eyes are the first thing you see, tinged with exhaustion and fatigue. But there's a shining warmth too as he registers that it's you.

He says your name softly. And then, "What are you doing here?"

It's 11:30 pm on a Wednesday night. You're normally already in bed, and he's usually getting ready for patrol. You both know this is unusual.

Your mind has been on one track all evening. Scratch that -- all day.

"I love you" comes out.

I love you - pouring coffee into a cup.

I love you - the middle of the morning blue sky.

I love you - as you are getting off the bus at the stop near your apartment.

I love you - a taxi horn blares as you sprint across the crosswalk.

"I do." You say as he stares at you. "I love you. I love you and I think you know."

"I do know." His eyes shine, but there's worry brewing in them too.

"I love you," It comes out a little fiercer this time; a little stronger. You are assured and fearless in this.

Being in love with Richard Grayson should scare the ever-living daylights out of you, but it's the only thing you're certain about.

A weighted moment of silence follows your last confession, and you stand in front of Dick Grayson in the doorway of his apartment at 11:35 pm on a random Wednesday night and begin to wonder what the hell you are doing.

There's a split second where anxiety rules you. Where you wonder if it was actually a good idea to follow your gut instinct on this one. You wonder if you should've left it alone. You wonder if the exposure and vulnerability your confession to Dick will be worth it.

Simultaneously as quick as lightning and as slow as a sloth, Dick's hands reach for your face. His mouth swallows your gasp as his lips press against yours and he gently pulls you closer to him.

One of his hands drops from your face as your touch lingers over his forearms and the slam of the front door is the last thing you hear before you are lost to euphoria.

[simpforfandoms]

Here with me

a/n: I got my wisdom teeth out and I’m high on pain killers rn so I don’t know what this is also it's been like a year since I've last uploaded I've just haven't had the motivation whoops. Also requests are open so please request I'm running out of ideas.

pairing: dick grayson x fem!reader (probably could be read as gender neutral)

summary: reader got broken up with by a text of all things

genre: angst, hurt with comfort, tooth-rotting fluff at the end

word count: 2665

warnings: language, not proofread

masterlist

“you’re nice and all but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

You’re heart drops. You read the text over and over again. Guess he lives up to his name. What kind of person ends it over text? You don’t know how to respond. A million thoughts at once fill your head. Do you respond with a whole ass paragraph begging him not to leave you? Do you call him? Do you run over to his work? What the fuck do you do? Your finger hovers over the call button. If you call him would he even answer? What could you do to salvage this relationship? It wouldn’t be the same if you could fix the relationship. Doubt would fill your brain. More doubt than you already had. In retrospect, you should’ve seen this coming. Dick Grayson is a beautiful human sent from the heavens above. And you? Well, you’re just you. It was stupid of you to think that a guy like him could ever love a gal like you. You check the time.

5:48

You know Dick can see that you read the text for almost six minutes now. You freak out and reply with the first thing you could think of.

“Okay”

He reads it almost instantly.

And just like that, it’s over. Almost a three-year-long relationship. Down the fucking drain. It’s funny it seemed like only 2 hours ago he was telling you how much he loved you and missed you. Where did you go wrong? You’ve done nothing but been there for him. You’ve been a good girlfriend. Maybe not the best. Definitely not Barbara. Barbara. Her name brings a funny taste to your tongue. A pit in your stomach forms. She’s everything you’re not and more. He probably reconnected with her and realized that he’s better off with her. Oh my fucking god why can’t you be better. Be better. Be fucking better. So many words that you want to say to him. Please being the most frequent one. You want to cry. Scream. Anything. But you can’t. It’s like you’re paralyzed. You’re hands are shaking as you find the caller ID and quickly push it.

“hey what’s up?”

“me and dick broke up?” You say it almost like a question.

“What oh my god! What happened?!?! I’ll kill him”

“Babs I need you to be completely honest.” You say gulping, “did you have anything to do with it?”

“No of course not,” she says

Of course she didn’t. She might be Dick’s ex but she wouldn’t betray you. A part of you hates yourself for ever thinking that.

“I’m coming over right now” you hear a muffled voice in the background but before you could ask she hangs up.

Weird but you didn’t have time to focus on that. You just got dumped. You can’t say you didn’t see it coming. You don’t know what hurts worse, being broken up with or believing that for once you were worthy of love. People say that “you accept the love you think you deserve.” If that’s true than why the hell were you and dick together. Dick is the most perfect boyfriend. Maybe it was all a mask. Maybe he didn’t actually love you. A small part of you hope that its not true, but the logical more realistic part know that it was all just a fantasy. A beautiful fantasy, but a fantasy nevertheless. You wish you could cry. You feel like everyone else in this situation would cry. Maybe it’s because you’re still in denial. You’re still hoping for Dick to say this is some sick joke.

•

1 hour earlier

“You don’t understand I love her!” Dick retorts.

“Dick you don’t understand. Y/n’s a civilian. Telling her, hell even dating her puts her at risk. I am ordering you, not asking you, to break up with her.” Bruce says.

Dick takes a long exaggerated sigh. Leave it to Bruce to turn innocently declaring that he was going to propose into a full-blown argument. His brothers sit and watch patiently. As if they’re waiting for a lion to attack. Barbara, on the other hand, is waiting for a chance to speak. After all, you are her best friend, she has to do everything she can to prevent you from getting hurt. By that, she means mentally. She has no doubt in her mind that Dick can protect you. Honestly, she found it heartwarming that Dick had come to her for the approval of the engagement ring. She only regrets suggesting that he tells Bruce.

“Bruce I’m not a kid anymore you can’t boss me around.”

“Think about all the people we have lost because they knew our identity. If you truly loved this girl you would set her free.”

Dick mutters something under his breathe. Barley auditable. Something along the lines of “I don’t want to”

•

knock

knock

You don’t bother to answer the door you know it’s Barbara. You know she has a key.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry!” She says as she runs over to hug you.

“It’s okay it’s not like your the reason he broke up with me.”

You notice a falter in Barbara’s face. She showed a tinge of guilt but as quickly as it appeared it went away.

“I know but I’m still sorry” she says.

“Y’know it’s funny Babs I thought I was gonna marry him. For a moment there I thought he felt the same. It was stupid of me. I turned a blind eye to him coming home late all the time. It shouldn’t have been such a big shock. I guess in the back of my mind i always knew there was someone else. I guess I should pack up my shit and get the fuck out of here. I don’t think I can handle looking into eyes without crumbling.” Tears begin to fall.

Barbara does nothing more than squeeze you tighter. A reassuring comfort that it’s not your fault. You know she knows something you don’t know and only wish she could tell you, but you also know that maybe she won’t tell you to keep you safe. You think about, if she knows that dick broke up with you because of someone else, maybe she’s just saving all the pain that comes with feeling you’re not enough. But she also has to know that you already feel your not enough. You pull away from the hug to look her in her eyes. Searching for answers. You grab her hands in yours.

“Babs if you know something I don’t please tell me, I know you want to protect me but please I assure you that I already have self doubt and if you tell me that there was for sure someone else all that could bring is closure. So please for the love of god tell me.”

She suddenly pulls away breaking eye contact.

“No! It’s not that- it’s uh. It’s all my fault Y/n. I’m so sorry.” She says in a hush voice covering her face in guilt.

As if your heart couldn’t possibly break it more, it feels betrayal.

“Babs were you the other woman?” You say not understanding.

“Oh my god of course not.” She turns her head to look at you. “I would never ever do that to you”

“Then how is it your fault?” You question confusion mixed with sadness on your face.

She turns away again.

“It’s just- oh god. I promised dick I wouldn’t tell you.” She closes her eyes and gulps. “A week ago Dick came to me asking to help pick out an engagement ring for you. He was going to propose.” She then looks at you searching for any reaction.

“He was? I don’t get it then why would he break up with me?”

“I convinced him that he should tell Bruce and all, thinking that Bruce would want to know. It ended up turning into a big argument. In the end Bruce convinced him to break up with you.” She sighs once again looking at your confusion ridden face.

“I still don’t get it. Bruce loves me. Why wouldn’t he want Dick to marry me?” You question.

“What Dick does for a living is dangerous.”

“I’m fine with him being a cop, he knows that.”

“No, it’s not just that. What we all do for a living is dangerous. Bruce likes you, he does. At first, he didn’t think you and Dick would last so he never thought that your relationship would get to the point where Dick would have to tell you the truth, but Dick had other plans. So when Dick told him he wanted to marry you, well-“ She stops taking a deep breath, “Bruce knew that marrying you would mean Dick would have to tell you the truth. So he told Dick that the only way to keep you safe was to break it off and if he truly loved you he would set you free.”

“How is any of that your fault?” You ask.

“Well after Dick stormed away I followed him to convince him not to break up with you. But he wouldn’t budge. He believed it would be selfish to continue your relationship while putting you jeopardy. He sacrificed his own happiness for your safety. He said he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something ever happened to you. I knew he wouldn’t budge so I at least tried to get him to break up with you in person but he knew if he saw you he would never be able to do it. You called me after it happened Dick begged me not to tell me anything but here we are” She finishes with tears in her eyes.

“None of that is your fault, Babs.” You say as you pull her into a hug.

She chuckles dryly, “I’m the one who should be comforting you.”

You both laugh through the tears.

“I still have one question though. What does he do for a living?”

Barbara stops laughing and contemplates telling you. She eventually stares you in the eyes and says barley above a whisper “he’s nightwing”

Though you barley heard it, you’re eyes widened. Suddenly everything made sense. The late nights. The excessive bruises. The leaving dates early. It was like the final piece of the puzzle.

“Where is he?” You say though you already know the answer.

You get up from the couch, grab your keys and are almost out the door til you hear babs say “Y/n please don’t tell him I told you”

You stop for a moment and say, “Thank you Babs” and rush out the door.

•

“Dude I can’t believe you actually listened to the old man” Jason says.

“I don’t need your shit Jason.” Dick mumbles on the Wayne manor sofa.

“I’m just saying, you’re in love with her. Everyone can see that.”

“That’s why I had to!” Dick yells, standing up.

Jason stands back, seemly pushing Damian in front of him as if it’s his turn to talk some sense into Dick.

“What Todd is trying to say is, it’s absurd that you of all people would take Father’s advice about love seeing how miserable he is.” Damian states.

“Ya, Bruce doesn’t know shit about relationships, even I can see that” Duke chimes in from across the room, not even looking up from his book.

"You wanna know why he can't seem to keep a relationship? Because he lets his fear consume him." Tim says bluntly.

"Yeah take Tim for example isn't he dating a civilian? Benard? Nothing has happened to him" Jasons says.

"Well, I wouldn't say nothing" Tim replies.

"Shut up, I'm trying to make a point." Jason sighs, "He's not dead is he?"

"Yeah, Tim and Benard seem to be going strong," someone chimes in from the doorway.

That voice. Dick could recognize that voice anywhere. They all turn to look at you. Jason is the first one that turns back towards Dick.

"See y/n gets it." He shrugs

"Yeah, I do."

There is a moment of silence. The silence is so loud. The tension so thick. The boys seem to notice this and walk away. Jason gives Dick a look that reads, "Don't fuck this up, lover boy"

When the boys all leave the room, leaving you and Dick alone, you walk towards him. Dick's piercing blue eyes stare into yours. Almost questioning you, as to say "what are you doing here".

"You didn't really think I'd let you break up with me over text, did you?" You smile.

Dick can't help it, he smiles back. Even though it's silent, you both are saying a million words to each other. He can look into your eyes for eternity. He can't believe he broke up with you without getting to see those gorgeous eyes again. But as much as he wants to keep looking, he can't, he knows if he does, he'll come running back to you. He knows if he does that, he'll never see those pretty eyes again. The reality of the matter hits him. He breaks eye contact, turning away and crossing his arms, as a way to say "please leave". You however have other plans. You come closer to him barely an inch away from him. You take his face into your hands and turn his head towards you. He tightly closes his eyes.

"Dick, please look at me." You say.

"I can't," he whispers.

"Why?"

He sighs closing his eyes even tighter. "You know why."

You silently remove your hands from his face, sliding them down to his chest. You sigh, about to remove your hands completely until he untucks his arms and lightly grabs your wrists. He looks down, finally looking into your eyes.

"Please don't go yet," He says.

"Dick I need you to tell me the truth"

You search his eyes for a sign, anything at all. What you find is remorse.

"Y'know I love you" You say

"I know."

"Dick you can tell me anything"

He sighs, "You already know the truth"

"But I need to hear it from you"

He sighs again, this time deeper. He stares into your eyes almost pleading with you so he won't have to say it because if he does it makes all of this a reality. The harsh reality that he'll either have to love you from afar, or put you in jeopardy because of him. He'd rather stay here with you in complete bliss. As long as he's with you he's complete. He can't imagine you gone. Alive but gone or dead and gone. He wishes things were simpler. In another time or maybe another universe, he thinks.

"I'm Nightwing"

You burst you laughing. Making Dick confused, but he couldn't help but start chuckling with you.

"My fiance's Nightwing" You start singing.

When you eventually catch your breath, Dick seems to have an even more confused face.

"What?" You question.

"Fiance?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Well yeah but only if you want to be" You smile sheepishly.

Instead of replying Dick swoops you up and kisses you. Not like any other kiss you've had with him, it was one filled with passion. All of the love left unsaid was poured into the kiss. Any doubt that either of you had was solved. When you finally break apart, you two are panting resting your forehead on each other. Dick casually slips an engagement ring on your finger. To which you pull away to look at.

"Oh, Dick it's beautiful!" You gush.

"You have Babs to thank for that," He says pulling you in for another kiss.

You're the love of his life, and he's yours. You know what you're getting yourself into but ultimately you'd rather die having him by your side than not at all. As long as you're with him you've got a smile on your face.

[stephstars08]

Hello Everyone!🩵

I just wanted to make an update post about my writing!!! I am almost done typing up my Jason Todd series named ‘Monster’! I’m so excited to share it with you all and it’s going to be my first time posting a story based off a comic book character! I’m aiming to post the first chapter next Friday. I will hopefully post the schedule of the release of the chapters and the Masterlist of the series which will include the plot and warnings of the story! Hoping to post it either Sunday or Monday! Now, that story will most likely take up all of October and into November so what I’m hoping to do is post extra writings for Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, maybe some Ethan Landry and I do have a Joe Burrow one shot in my notes! Those one shots will be posted on Sundays so I’m hoping to be able to post twice a week for you all! I have a bunch of ideas in my notes so stay tuned!

-Stephanie 🩵

[fullbelieverheart]

💙🫂💙

Can I request for a nightwing Headcannon and his stages of falling in love?

 wooh okay. Well this is my attempt at getting Dick Grayson right I hope you guys like this. 

STAGE ONE :REALIZATION.

Lets face it , at first Dick would have no idea that he was actually in love with you , he’d probably just go along with his life without a second thought.

 Like he’d think of you an awful lot and and a lot of things will remind him of you. but he’d just shrug it off like

 In the middle of a mission he’d see something that reminds him of you and he’d just go all , “Huh that reminds me of (Y/N) “  and then he’d kind of get in a daze and just sort of think about you for a solid 10 minutes till he realizes exactly what is going on. (THIS COULD BE AN IMAGINE ON ITS OWN )

 He’d just shrug it off with a really really bad excuse like

 “maybe I’m just extra horny “ 

 He’d also talk about you a lot and refer to you like you can do no wrong.

 This would go on for a while , till he brings you up  in a conversation for the 100th time with his brothers.

 ‘’damnit , Dick , we know you fucking love (Y/N) , now can you just shut the fuck up ?!” -Jason 

 “yeah , man i mean (Y/N)’s really nice and all but we don’t care about what she had for breakfast “ Tim pipes in , earning a snicker and  rude comment from Damian. 

 This statement  would stick with him and later on it would just hit him, like he was grabbing a beer from the fridge back home and it would hit him and he’d just go all “I am in  love with (Y/N) “ 

 CUE STAGE TWO : CONFUSION 

This was probably the best. Dick would be so awkward and tongue tied everyone would notice it , even you.

 his brothers will give him hell for it.

 “Oh look its (Y/N) , better tape your mouth shut and start giving the sex eyes “ - Jason

He would get so awkward and tongue tied around you. 

The flirting and everything would come to a halt

With you included and you’d be pretty confused like where is my boyfriend confused.

STAGE THREE : LOVESICK PUPPY 

Dick would probably be really happy with the idea of falling in love.

Like yeah ! he has settled down with one person and its you ! you’re so nice and pretty and he just really really loves you and its all very amazing for him.

The awkwardness would just come to a halt and he would be like well , a love sick puppy. 

He’d stop flirting and its like he has eyes only for you.

everything you do is just perfect for him.

He’d be all heart eyes and overly affectionate , even in public.

All of this would be very weird for you and one day you’d just confront him about it. 

Like he just arranged your favorite meal from God knows where and he let you pick out the movie , for the third time in a row and he was being wayy to nice and so you just ask him whats up and why the hell is he acting like this ? did he mess something up ? 

Dick would just smile  pull you in for a long kiss and he’d just go,

“Nothing , I’m just head over heels in love with you (Y/N)”

woo okay i hope these are okay. Remember headcanons for the batboys x s/o are always open because im trash. 

~Circe 

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Tim is the first to find out the Red Hood’s identity and from then on sticks to Jason during patrol like glue (much to Jason’s chagrin, dammit, it would feel wrong to beat up Robin when he’s that starry eyed…)

Cue: PANIC from the rest of the Batfamily, who still think Hood is a forty-something year old crime lord and now assume they’re dating.

[morganbritton132]

Do you think that the people of Gotham are ever just trying to enjoy their day and then see one of the Waynes walk into the cafe they’re at or go to the movies at the same time as them, and think, “Great, my chances of being a part of a hostage situation has just been raised by 20-40%”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Dick Grayson who loves it when instead of interlacing your fingers you wrap both your arms around his bicep when you’re out because number one, he likes the feel of you grabbing onto him like that, number two, he loves knowing that he’s the one you want and need and love and number three, nine times out of tend you’re going to drag your nails in strange patterns up and down the bulk of his bicep and he just loves it so so much

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Red Knight in Shining Armour

Red Hood x Reader

wc: 1.3 K; part two summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so warnings: cat calling a/n: Something possessed me and I had to write this small drabble. Might consider writing more parts to it, dunno

Finally, you‘ve finished your shift in that overly warm bakery. After taking care of mostly elderly customers, baking fresh goods, and taking care of some more rather demanding customers, you could make your way home. The fresh february air hits you as you step before closing the small bakery, making your way to the busstop. Gotham is not known for warm or sunny weather, especially during the shortest month of the year. This is why you wrap your scarf tighter around you, making sure you won‘t catch a cold with the freezing wind that flies right against you. You eventually reach your desired destination, satisfied the bus is already standing there, possibly waiting for you.

As soon as you reach it, he cheekily drives away and leaves you waiting for the next bus… in two hours.

Now, of course you wouldn‘t wait two freezing hours around eleven PM in Gotham. It‘s probably safer and way faster to just walk the half an hour to your apartment. With that logic, you start trotting home, feeling a little moody now. What kind of bus driver just drives away even when a person clearly walks towards it? Muttering incoherent insults at the bus driver, you make sure to keep yourself warm enough at the same time. Your coat is doing a mostly good job at keeping you from trembling, so does your thick scarf. But you wish you brought your warm hat with you.

You tense at hearing heavy steps behind you. Sure, Gotham is definitely not the safest city, but you never had to actively protect yourself from any dangers because you always had the bus! That goddamn bus is driving you nuts, to the point you don‘t notice the strange man approaching you closer. He‘s about a few feet away from you now, finally raising his voice.

»Hey, princess! Are you lost?«

You finally glance behind your shoulder, not having expected for him to actually be a little closer to you now. Oh, he is taller than you. And has his hands in his pockets. This doesn‘t look good at all.

You quickly turn your head forward again, quickening your steps to get home faster and escape this creepy goon. He doesn‘t relent though and follows you, his hood over his head in a really suspicious way. You turn into a dark alley, cursing yourself internally for needing to go in there in order to get home faster. The alley is dark but also pretty long, as if a neverending hallway. Finally, the alleyway has an opening, walking a little faster again to escape the creep, but you also have to be careful not to slip on some ice.

A flash of red is appearing in the cornor of your eye, instinctively looking over to your side. Without further hesitancy, you hurry to the infamous vigilante and glance behind your shoulder briefly again.

»Red Hood! Please, there‘s someone following me, please pretend to be my boyfriend! Please!«

You plead desperately and stay by his side, your heart racing more from the paranoia of being followed and also from being so close to the real Red Hood, asking for help.

The vigilante doesn‘t flinch from his spot, studying you briefly before looking to the direction you just came from. The scary creep appears now too, eyes trained on you under his hood and possibly not even scared of the Crime Lord standing right beside you.

Without thinking, Red Hood wraps his arm around your shoulder and straightens his posture. The goon finally glances at him before his eyes fall back on you.

»C‘mon, sweetie, aren‘t you gonna spend time with me?« You shake your head urgently and press yourself more into Red‘s side, the hard material of his armour flush against your own soft coat.

»Does she know you?« The man beside you almost snarls, his voice a little distorted from his red helmet. An almost mocking scoff escapes the creep in front of you, staying there with some distance.

»Does it matter?«

A shudder runs down your spine at the words, making Red Hood squeeze your shoulder lightly with his hand.

He guides you to stand more behind him, glaring at the man under his helmet, feeling the strong urge to just beat him up into pieces. Still, he acts without any physical violence, not wanting to scare you even more.

»Listen here, you son of a bitch. Either, you go back the way you came here, or you won‘t recognise your face the next morning. If you‘ll wake up.«

He threatens, which makes the other man take a small step back. He seems to consider something, glancing to you as you still stand behind the vigilante. After what seems like a few minutes of tense silence, the weirdo walks away from you both.

You exhaled relievedly, stepping closer to Red Hood again.

»Thank you so much! You just probably saved my life from him, I don‘t know how to pay you back.«

He looks to you again, his expression unreadable due to his helmet. But he does shake his head and holds one of his hands up lightly.

»No need to, lady. I‘m always here for help, don‘t worry.«

Red feels lightly weird calming down a random person, but he feels like he needs to. After all, he just pried a man – a really creepy bastard – from you. And it feels wrong to ask for something in return for it. He never does that sort of stuff.

»Well, still… You know what? You can visit my bakery, I‘ll give you a treat. On the house, of course!«

He feels surprised at your request, thinking over your suggestion for a moment.

»I‘ll see what I can do.« He pauses before saying goodbye, glancing around the area briefly.

»Do you need a ride home? It‘s not safe around midnight.«

Now it‘s your turn to be surprised, mulling over the suggestion. It‘s only twenty minutes until you‘re back home safely, but you also don‘t want to be a further bother to him. Eventually, you decide to be truthful.

»I was just planning on walking the last twenty minutes home. I don‘t want to bother you any longer...«

Another sudden wind goes past you, which makes you wrap your scarf tighter around your neck again, the action not going unnoticed by him. Finally, despite his own pride, he suggests taking you home with his bike. You feel star-struck, never having thought someone like him – no, Red Hood would give you a ride home. After saving you, too.

Not able to miss such an opportunity, you agree, and he helps you put on his extra helmet for the quick ride. Luckily, he knows this area of the city well, just needing the name of your address, and he knows which route he needs to take.

»Hold on tight, yeah?« At this point, he muted his comms, as well as the others, not wanting for them to hear you both and the other way around. He starts driving you back to your apartment complex, feeling a small thrill as you sit behind him and have your arms wrapped around his torso. Every time he makes a turn, you hold on even tighter to him, not used to riding a motorcycle at all.

Eventually, after some minutes of driving, you arrive, and he helps you get off the bike. You take off the extra helmet he gave you, ruffling your hair to let it look less messy from the helmet. He watches, taking the helmet from you, and eventually leaves on his bike, but not without memorising your street and face. Just in case.

Finally, you made it home, having a big story to tell your best friend tomorrow morning at work.

»You‘ve got a girlfriend now, Jaybird?«

Dick‘s smug voice chimes into his earpiece once he turns the comms on again.

»None of your business, Dickhead.« Jason grumbles back, earning a brief scolding from Bruce to use their callsigns again.

←MASTERLIST

[sleepingdiaryzzz]

Yandere dick x reader x yandere Starfire

Being part of the Titans was everything you’d dreamed it would be. Between the endless training sessions, the late-night missions, and the quiet moments in between, you felt like you’d finally found a place where you belonged. But lately, something felt different—especially with Dick and Kory. They seemed closer than ever, sure, but in a way you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Sometimes you’d catch them watching you, their usual playful grins softened by an intensity you didn’t understand.

One evening after a mission, you all ended up sprawled on the couches in the Tower’s lounge. You were sandwiched between Dick and Kory, who both seemed unusually close. You’d just chalked it up to them being friendly—after all, you were all practically family by now.

But to them, it was more than that.

“You know,” Dick began, his voice soft but laced with that familiar confidence, “you’ve been a huge asset to the team.” He gave you a sidelong glance, his blue eyes lingering a moment too long. “I mean… I think we’d be lost without you.”

You laughed, brushing off his words. “Come on, Dick. You’d be just fine. You and Kory are the heart of the team.”

Kory, who had her arm casually slung over your shoulder, tensed ever so slightly. She felt a pang at your words, and it took her a second to regain her easy, lighthearted smile. “But you make us better,” she insisted, her voice warm but with an edge of something deeper. Her fingers traced small, gentle circles on your shoulder, her gaze fixed on you. “You bring a light that even I… well, even I cannot match.”

You blinked, smiling awkwardly at her intensity, but you still didn’t quite get it. “Thanks, Kory. That means a lot.”

Dick sighed quietly, his expression momentarily faltering. It wasn’t often that he let his guard down, but when he looked at you, he felt like he was losing control of his usual cool exterior. He wanted to be close, to be seen by you in a way that he didn’t dare put into words. You saw him as a friend, sure—but could you ever see him as more?

It was subtle, but there was a hint of desperation in the way he scooted closer to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind you. “I mean it,” he murmured, and his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “It’s… it’s different with you here. I’m different.”

The quiet vulnerability in his tone surprised you, but you just smiled, trying to brush off the tension. “You’re pretty great yourself, Dick,” you replied, giving him a playful nudge. “Don’t worry—you’ll always be Nightwing, even if I’m around.”

Kory’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly. She felt the weight of those unspoken words in the air, a tension that hung between you, Dick, and herself. It made her want to speak up, to make you understand that their feelings weren’t just friendly. But she held back, unsure how to explain something so deep, so consuming.

Instead, she gave you a wistful smile, the glow in her green eyes dimming just slightly. “You’re special to us,” she said, the words soft but filled with an urgency she struggled to contain. “To me. To both of us.”

You felt the shift in her tone, and something in the way she looked at you made you hesitate. For a moment, you thought you saw something more there—a longing you didn’t quite understand. But before you could dwell on it, Kory squeezed your shoulder with her usual bright smile, hiding the hint of sadness that lingered beneath her warmth.

As the night wore on, Dick and Kory found themselves holding onto every small moment with you a little tighter. Every laugh, every touch, every glance—they were like lifelines. They’d never felt this way before, this mixture of hope and helplessness, this aching need to be more than just friends in your eyes. And it was terrifying.

For now, they would let you break their hearts, little by little, every time you smiled at them as a friend, every time you looked at them with those innocent eyes.

And maybe, someday, you’d see them for what they truly were. But until then, they would stay close. Silent, patient, and filled with love too vast to be expressed in words.

And just like the storm, the ache would keep raging quietly beneath the surface, growing stronger every time you didn’t notice.

They would wait.

(A/n: was listening to laufey and suddenly had a idea, hope y'all likes it😸 totally out of context🤷‍♀️)

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Nothing in my life is as easy as you (and nothing in my life is as hard)

comfort came against my will - series masterlist here

pairing: dick grayson x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.4k

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: reader drinks one single beer, dick is like mostly naked the whole time, there's a bit of talk about dick possibly dying as nightwing but it's breezed past pretty quickly, there's also talk of dick cheating but he isn't actually

a/n: takes place after I’ll find you always (but I’d rather go alone) but can be read alone, it's just that reader's just found out dick's nightwing

Dick sighs as he watches you pop open a beer bottle on the edge of your shared kitchen counter, eyeing the ever-growing chip that's been left in it because of your habit. It's mostly for show - you both know he doesn't actually care - the arched brow he sends you isn't serious. You shoot a sly smile back, lifting yourself to sit on the edge of the counter, letting him come to stand between your parted legs as he towel dries his hair. 

"Feeling better?" You ask, wiping the condensation from your beer bottle onto the towel that's wrapped around his waist and ignoring the indignant sound that he makes. 

"Yea," he sighs. "But you didn't have to wait for me. It's late - you should be asleep."

"So should you," you shoot back. Dick doesn't quip back, though. Instead, he leans back onto his heels so that he can look at you, shaking his hair out and throwing the towel he'd been using over his shoulder as he eyes you. You grip the bottle tighter in your hand, the coldness seeping into your palm and chilling you. Having Dick Grayson look at you like that makes you feel naked, even if he's the only one wrapped in nothing but a towel.

"You seem very… okay with this," he says carefully.

"Would you like me to cry? Maybe scream a little?"

"Hm. Not particularly," he answers thoughtfully, his eyes still raking over your face.

"It's like I said, Dick. I had some idea. Sure, bumping into you in the mask was… surprising, but it's hard to keep a secret like that from someone you live with. You got a little sloppy sometimes." You point out. Dick hums thoughtfully, his hands gripping your waist as he watches you sip your drink.

"Are you angry at me?" He asks pointedly. "For not telling you. For keeping it a secret."

"Well, I would be - I don't appreciate being lied to, you know that. But mostly I'm… relieved." You trail off at the end, content to watch the beer swirl around your bottle instead of looking up at him. He lets you - for now.

"Relieved?" He questions gently, his thumbs running soothing circles over your skin where his hands are still placed firmly on your hips.

"Yea," you sigh. "Come on, Dick, you have to know how it looks…?" But when he doesn't respond, just looks at you patiently, you keep going. "You're out all night, avoiding my calls. You sneak in when the sun comes up and won't tell me where you've been. You dodge questions about it…"

"So…" Dick begins, clearly waiting for you to give him the final clue, you roll your eyes lovingly, looking at him finally. 

"That all sounds like you're cheating on me, doesn't it?" You say plainly. His mouth drops open, his hands loosening their grip on your hips for a moment in shock before they tighten again, holding you as if he thinks you'll bolt if he doesn't.

"No," he rushes to say. "No, no - honey, I would never. I love you, you know that - don't you? Please tell me you know that. I would never do that to you. I would never hurt you like that." Dick's words all come out in a sort of jumbled rush, his eyes searching your face wildly for any sign that you believe him. You look at him sympathetically, reaching up with one hand to swipe the dripping curls out of his face.

"Well… you sort of already did do that to me. You weren't cheating - I know that now and I believe you, so don't sweat it, okay? But… I thought you were. For months." you tangle a hand into his hair as you speak, letting your nails scratch gently against his scalp in what Dick knows is supposed to be a soothing motion. It shouldn't be you, he thinks. It shouldn't be you having to comfort me for the things I've done. 

"I'm… I'm so sorry, babe," he says simply, like all other words have become lost to him.

"It's ok," you answer breezily, and his shoulders relax a fraction when he realizes that it's only a little bit forced. "You were actually out there getting shot at and beaten up, so really I was worried for nothing, wasn't I?" Sarcasm seeps into your voice and Dick smiles sheepishly.

"I don't get beaten up every night. I'm just a bit more skilled than that."

"You'd better be."

Silence weighs down on the two of you after that, the severity of it all beginning to creep into your thoughts. Looking up at the man you love, you can't help but wonder what this changes between the two of you. He could die out there, you think. He could die for a cause greater than our love and I would have nothing left of him but a tarnished memory. It's not a conversation you're ready to have with him. Based on the way his fingers sink into the fat of your hips and he stares at you, Dick doesn't seem to be particularly ready to have that talk, either. Oh well. Hopefully he doesn't die before you can.

"Can I ask you something?" He offers quietly, and you hope desperately that it's a white flag of some sort, an offer to change the subject to something that doesn't make your stomach churn with worry.

"Go ahead."

"If you thought I was cheating on you, why did you… stay with me? Why did you put up with it? That… that doesn't really seem like you, babe." He winces after he says it, as if the way your brows shoot up at the question makes him wish he could take it all back. Not exactly the topic change you were hoping for.

"I'm not easy to love," you say simply. Dick looks a bit alarmed. "I thought maybe… it was fair of you. Maybe I was asking enough of you when I asked for you to love me at all. Maybe you deserved to go out at night and be with other people who weren't… so difficult."

The silence that drips between the two of you is icy. You sort of wished you'd just slapped him or something. Then that look on his face would make more sense. That awed, horrified, painful look.

"Do you really…" he says haltingly. "Do you really think that little of me? Do you - do you think that little of you?" You sigh, placing your beer on the counter beside you and hooking a finger into where his towel is wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you between your legs.

"I think that sometimes I assume things that I shouldn't. And this time, the person who usually talks me down from that was, well -" you gesture to Dick with the hand that's not still firmly holding him to you by his towel. "- the subject of those thoughts. I couldn't go to you about you. I was trying to figure it out on my own and, admittedly, I'm not always good at that."

"You never asked me to love you," he blurts out. "I begged you. I fell in love with you and I begged you to take me and it took months for you to say yes to me."

"Okay, yes, but -"

"You're more than I deserve. You're… you're everything to me, baby. Everything. Nothing in my life has ever been as easy as loving you."

"Now that just can't be true," You shoot back, but any malice in your voice is dissolved by the way he pressed his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you to pull you impossibly close to him.

"All the things in my life that have gone so wrong," he says quietly, a shaky quality to his voice that you're not used to. "Loving you is so goddamn right. I'll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if you let me." You sigh against him at his words, your heart squeezing in your chest as you press your lips to his pec, littering kisses across the skin there.

"You don't have to work eternally to gain my love," you say gently. "It's already yours. I'm already yours."

"And only yours," he murmurs, his lips still planted firmly against your forehead. You huff out something that's almost a laugh.

"Of course," you say, and Dick finds himself eternally relieved that the easiness in your voice is much less forced now. "Only mine."

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hello, Happy Holy Ramadan. I know your request box is closed, but when your request box is opened, can you make this request? if it doesn't bother you, could you do Long Ramadan headcanons for Damian Wayne and the reader? I saw your Damian wayne x muslim reader post before. And I thought it was appropriate to ask you this. If this request bothers you, feel free to ignore it. Have a nice day 🩷🩷🩷🤚

Ramadan HCs

Muslim!Damian Wayne x Muslim!Reader

hey there sweetheart and Ramadan Mubarak <3! firstly i'm so sorry that it took me so long to respond to the ask! im ashamed it took me a year honestly. requests are closed but i still wanted to be able to write for this because we obviously need more muslim representation and also the last time i posted the muslim hc for damian there were just so many of the readers who texted me or sent asks or commented saying that they really appreciated the representation

anyways i wasn't sure if i was going to respond or not because it has been a year but since it is currently Ramadan and it's going to end very soon I figured why not

Thank you for being so respectful in your ask, I really appreciate it and I hope you like it. Hope you have a very blessed Ramadan and wishing everyone a lot of health and happiness during this time. Even to my non-muslim readers, I hope you all are doing well and you're all healthy <3333

also i know that there is a very slim chance of this happening because all of you are amazing but i will not tolerate any hate of any kind. if you

your first Ramadan after being married to Damian was certainly a new experience

before being married, you were just used to your parents handling everything for you

by the time you wake up for suhoor, the table would be set

by the time you'd be home from university, your mother would be waiting by the door with a date and a glass of water

so now that you were married and you had to handle everything on your own, it took a little bit of getting used to

luckily for you, Damian is a very hands on type of man

he's the kind of person who'd just drink a cup of water or a glass of milk, maybe a couple of dates or a fruit and he'd be ok for the remainder of the day

but god forbid you even think of doing the same thing

he'd just about have a heart attack

absolutely not

initially, he'd request Alfred to make meals for you so he could bring them home for the both of you to have suhoor together

just until the both of you got the hang of it

after that damian would either help you cook before patrol so there would be food ready for the both of you

or he'd swing by some restaurant that was open and grab some takeout for the both of you

he'd heat up the food and set the table and making sure everything was absolutely ready before finally waking you up

practically carrying your sleepyass to the table and handfeeding you so he can make sure you're eating properly

since he handles suhoor, you handle iftar and keep the table set so you can eat together

you could always just stay at the manor so you wouldn't have to worry about the meals, like bruce or dick have suggested so many times

but you prefer living alone with your husband

no offense to them at all

but it's just easier for you to maintain your modesty at your own home

anyways

your marriage gets really tested during Ramadan

the two of you are barely getting any sleep and it's difficult for you both to get used to

the only time that you both spend together and are completely present is when he should be patrolling

the lack of sleep makes you both kind of cranky

and it's difficult to not snap at each other

eventually you both get pretty tired and exhausted and just slip into routine

but of course it's nothing some sleep and some time spent together can't solve

and since you've been trying to reduce watching movies and listening to music during the holy month, you end up playing board games together or going for long drives together where you just talk and talk and talk

you thought you were extremely secure in your marriage

that was until you saw damian pout and give you the silent treatment after losing a game of gin rummy

then claiming you shouldn't be playing a game called 'jinn' in the first place

not swearing or talking shit during ramadan was especially hard for him

especially with tim and steph yelling 'fi ramadan?' at him everytime he makes even the slightest snide comment

you find it hilarious but i digress

whenever you go to the masjid for nightly prayers, damian and you will go and find a new ice cream place to try out late at night

you mention in passing how the women's side of the mosque is so bland compared to the men's and damian immediately looks into getting the mosque refurbished so that you and other women can enjoy it

damian's shoes get stolen once and the great detective actually couldn't find out who it was

you hear him complain about it constantly

CONSTANTLY

this time is when you both really lean into the adorable muslim couple aesthetic

matching prayer mats with each of your names embroidered on it

matching tasbih

and other things you get the picture

you both go all out for ramadan and decorate your home from top to bottom

since you both don't really celebrate many of the western holidays, he really wants to make this a memorable time for the both of you

and so do you

you hold an iftar party at your place many times with all your friends and family

it started out with you just inviting everyone but eventually it became a weekly potluck, which you really appreciated

bro damian is more excited about Eid than you are

he literally has to keep reminding you to get your dress ready for Eid al fitr

because he wants to get a jubbah in a matching color and surprise you

you know how you have those cute texts of girlies asking their bfs for their opinions on their nails?

the exact same thing

except with HENNA

you send him like 100 different pictures a week, planning which design you want to wear for Eid

he responds to all of them with utmost seriousness

obviously, he's an artist

he knows whats the difference between arabic and indian designs for henna

but secretly he's wondering why you're sending him so many when you only have 2 hands

but um hello he's never going to tell you that

because it's ramadan and obv ramadan related stuff is going to be appearing on everyones fyp he has to deal with both you and dick sending him videos of the scholars being funny (iykyk)

hey guys let's start ramadan w a bang

also has to deal with jason asking him CONSTANTLY how he's still able to walk around when all the demons are supposed to be locked up for the month

plus he has to now deal with you watching mukbangs and restaurant reviews and crying to him about how you're starving

why on earth did silent asmr mukbangs of wingstop get so popular only during ramadan?

believe me every single prayer damian makes during this month, he is thanking god for bringing you to him and praying for your health and your happiness

when you found out, you cried in his arms for a good solid 5 minutes

he also secretly kind of prayed for kids on laylat ul qadr but you didn't hear it from me

not only is this month really special for the both of you, you take it as an opportunity to give back

damian has wayne enterprises run soup kitchens for the entire month and they serve all people meals as well as suhoor and iftar

you both volunteer there personally

you donate money of course and damian will tell you that everytime he does it, he feels fulfilled in a way he never has before

you honestly feel so proud of the man you feel blessed to call your husband

also, like the perfect husband he is, he sends gifts and food to your parents

who quickly begin to regard him as better than your own siblings

much to his secret pleasure

uk i wish i could keep going

honestly ramadan is such a magical and rewarding time of the year

and you are so happy to spend it along with damian

P.S.

while damian completely understood the point of sacrificing a goat for Eid al adha

he still cried about it to you the night before out of guilt

you definitely donated the meat that came out of that

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