#gotham knights jason todd

[oohyasumi]

Kissing his scars would fix me...

[stararch4ngelqueen]

I just realized that we've never talked about anything like "morning wood" scene where reader wakes up first and sees her man's cock rising. (i can't choose between jason or simon)

Why not both 🧍🏽‍♀️

I only have strength to do character inclusive before hat man takes me. Please enjoy ❤️✨

🎩 🤺

Time Written - 9:07 p.m

The hour was early, the sun non existent in the skies just yet, but it’s presence would soon accompany the beautiful violet-tangerine clouds merging into dark, dull gray.

Your beloved still has his arm snugly wrapped around your waist, his thumb nudged just underneath the hem of your large shirt, mindlessly rubbing along soft skin. The best parts of waking up in the mornings weren’t just waking up alongside your personal body heater known as your muscly teddy bear, clutching you close like said plush toy.

Half of the time, it’s the not so subtle surprise pressed up against your lower back and rear when your mind pokes out of sleep, making it even more difficult for you to get comfortable again after being painfully aware of it.

Most of the time when it occurs, as does the ache in your lower tummy bloom; a need for him, an eager response of your body towards his.

He’s blissfully unaware of how hard his cock had gotten, too lost in the throws of sleep while clutching you close like a doll. It’s the rare occasion he slept with you a full night instead of coming home in the early hours of the morning or the middle of the night. The rare occasion where civil duties weren’t needed or expected from him, having him all to yourself.

While he appreciates coming home to a hot meal and a warm bed after a long patrol, it wasn’t enjoyable without you in the sheets with him. His body surely expressed just how much he had missed you.

You wondered what he might’ve dreamed of right this very moment. Was it an innocent, mindless walk in the park or the beach with you during a warm sunset? Or, was he living through a fantasy of burying his thick cock in between your plush thighs? Holding your head down against his own pillow while breeding your needy little cunt?

Whatever the cause, it left you quivering with a growing need to find out.

Your natural curiosity had you reach your hand behind you, brushing along bare skin of his lower torso where his tank top had ridden up, resting your fingers along his outer hip. Trailing along his lower waist, you shuffled your hips just a bit until you prod along your desired goal.

He emits a content little groan after a faint hitch in his breath, a soft sound that only lasts for a few moments. Satisfied with the result, your hand gives a soft squeeze along the pleasantly warm length, comfortably hidden from you under thick, navy fabric.

His breathing starts to slow down as soon as you start to move your fingers. Slow, teasing little squeezes just along the blunt tip, massaging down the length of his cock. How it irked you to brush your thumb along his sensitive underside, making your mouth water and your thighs slightly clench.

“Morning, hun.” His voice is hoarse, letting out a short yawn. He still keeps his arm around your middle, burying his face into your sweet hair after you settle with the startle of him waking up without your knowledge.

You turn, your loose shirt slightly twisted by your movements as you face your sweetheart, taking in his adorably tussled hair and sleepy eyes boring into yours.

His smug, little semi smirk lets you know that he might not be entirely surprised by this circumstance. He doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed by this either. He seems more amused than anything, especially since his favorite girl could do something about it.

You press a soft kiss against his lips, one that left him confused when he attempted to lean for more before you abruptly pull away. He whispers your name in question, lightly surprised when you kiss the corner of his mouth, down his chin, underneath his sharp, lightly stubbled jaw.

“So it’s that kind of morning, huh?” He questions, his Adam’s apple bobbing after you kiss it, his voice still raspy from sleep.

“Mhm,” you hum, your fingers eagerly slipping just underneath the hem of his sweatpants. He contentedly sighs, letting you have your fun now that he knows you’re in one of your playful little moods.

Kissing down along his chest, following the roadmap of his main scar down towards the rich, dark happy trail that peaked out of his sweatpants.

His breath hitches at the touch of your hands squeezing him through the damn fabric barrier, and he finds it’s a little bit harder to keep his cool at this stage. You can really do that to him, and it’s like nothing can ever compare.

“What’s gotten into you, sweetheart?” He amusingly murmurs, his voice still soft and husky.

Should be you, soon enough. You wanted to say back, but pursed your lips to prevent saying it. He knew; he beat you to it merely two damn seconds after he asked it.

It would be a shame to make a mess on such cool toned, dark gray silk sheets. Freshly washed, too.

He’s trying to resist as much as he can, but you’re just excitingly relentless when it comes to getting what you want. This morning, it just happens to be him.

“You tryin’ to ruin me already, aren’t you?” He chuckles, a handsome, rugged sound that shoots arousal down your spine.

“Mhmm,” You hum, starting to pull down the waistband just enough. His swollen, eager cock quickly greets you, hot and heavy in your hand, the tip practically weeping for more of your touch. A heavy, glistening bead trickles down the blunt head, perfectly caught along the tip of your tongue to taste him.

Settling perfectly snug against his legs, curled perfectly per comfort, you trail your tongue under the head, lapping along that particular spot that garnered a beautiful reaction outta him. His head tilted back against his pillow, brows scrunched from light ripples of euphoria, fists lightly clenching along blankets tossed aside.

“Shiiit… really ruinin’ me, sweetheart.”

You stop for a second, smiling a bit while rolling your thumb close to the base. “Should’ve specified.”

He lets out a soft snort, expressing his affection through amused chuckles and heart eyes through a heavy lidded gaze.

This morning is already off to a great start. He’s trying to think of a way to one-up you, but he honestly is just too tired for all of that.

You barely had just a bit of him in your mouth, providing such simple kitten licks, and he displayed such heavenly responses that bloomed your ego to wonderfully high levels.

Then again, you seem to be up and about already, so maybe he’ll have to put in some effort after you pamper him. You’ll quickly enact upon what he so eagerly desired to reenact from his dream; properly face fucking his sweetheart. Glossy lips pressed against his pelvis while bullying himself deep down your throat, further fueled by those obscenely filthy chokes he adored so much.

A well deserved throatfuck for such an adorably sassy mouth.

[giotanner]

Jason Todd is SO sentimental after all

(I was playing Gotham Knights and Jason was repairing his bike and... Oh! I saw this pic)

[indulgentdaydream]

everyone is “i love jason todd for his personality and his character! He’d so charming! A gentleman! He reads!”

until gotham knights jason todd is on screen

[liyawritesss]

-> 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎...

-> 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢!

-> 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝....

-> 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍! 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘...

𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 !

—> OVERVIEW

—> The death of Bruce Wayne has shaken the city of Gotham to its core. His presence defined the very city he vouched for for years, and while many mourned the death of one of the city’s highest elites, no pain could be compared to that of (y/n)’s, eldest daughter and heir to the Wayne Family. The beloved father-daughter duo were the saving grace of Gotham City; Bruce pouring his attention into politics, social and criminal justice and technology, and (y/n) strongly advocating for the arts, social change and socio-economical and political reform. With tragedy in the air and crime running amuck in the streets, what will become of the brilliant and beautiful (y/n) Wayne amidst the turmoil within her city, within her family, and within her own heart?

—> OBJECTIVES

—> (y/n) has not spoken since arriving at the Belfry. She spends her days reminiscing on the times when Bruce was alive, holding on to what little memories she has. Much of her memories are stored in the gifts Bruce had given her over the years, as well as moments the family has shared together. Your task is to retrieve these objects from across Gotham and unlock core memories of the heiress’s childhood with the Wayne family, in hopes to restoring (y/n) back to her original self.

CHOOSE YOUR ROUTE

MAIN STORYLINE

NIGHTWING | RED HOOD | ROBIN | BATGIRL

ADDITIONAL ROUTES UNLOCKED

ALFRED PENNYWORTH | BRUCE WAYNE

​🇫​​🇮​​🇳​​🇩​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇮​​🇹​​🇪​​🇲​​🇸​

​🇷​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇻​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇲​​🇪​​🇲​​🇴​​🇷​​🇮​​🇪​​🇸​

​ 🇪​​🇽​​🇵​​🇪​​🇷​​🇮​​🇪​​🇳​​🇨​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇭​​🇪​ ​🇱​​🇮​​🇫​​🇪​ ​🇴​​🇫​

​🇬​​🇴​​🇹​​🇭​​🇦​​🇲​’​🇸​ ​🇩​​🇦​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​

​

🇨​​🇱​​🇮​​🇨​​🇰​ ​ 🇾​​🇴​​🇺​​🇷​ ​ 🇷​​🇴​​🇺​​🇹​​🇪​ ​🇹​​🇴​ ​ 🇵​​🇱​​🇦​​🇾​

​🇳​​🇴​​🇼​

⚠️This Series Will Contain: canon-accurate violence with weapons such as guns, knives, batons, customized batman gear and other vigilante gear, hand to hand combat, mentions of blood, injuries, heavy talk about grief, depression, anxiety, major character death (bruce wayne/batman). Readers discretion is advised.

Tag List: @punkeropercyjackson @insomniac-jay @neesieiumz @honeypotsworld @honeybleed @hellkaiserinphoenix @saintriots @agent-nobody-knows @badass-dora-milaje @sincerelyzee @anuttellaa

[lunallaa]

||calling him by his first name||

gotham knights!jason todd x gn!reader

{not edited/proof read please excuse any errors♡}

You honestly didn't even realize that you said it. It was one of those rare late nights where Jason was out on patrol, and you were stuck back home at your shared apartment, struggling to fall asleep ever since he had left for the night. Normally after a long day of work and errands like today sleep came easy, you'd take a hot shower maybe have a cup of that tea Jason buys specifically to help with sleep, and then gather you and the new kitten the two have recently adopted and sleep until he came home. Tonight however, was a different case. No amount of tossing and turning, fluffing your pillows, cups of tea, or white noise playing on your phone could help you sleep.

Thankfully after however many(few) hours your body must've finally realized that you were in fact tired and in need of sleep cause when you woke up next, it was to your kitten stirring and loudly meowing at the bedroom door. Jason was finally home, and from the sounds of things he had just put away his gear from patrol and was making his way to your shared bedroom. You were always confident in your boyfriend and his family's capabilities at what they do, that you never exactly feared one of them never coming home, but it always filled you with such relief and peace whenever he walked through that door. Most times he's worn down and maybe nursing an injury but he's in one peice.

“Welcome home Jason.”

You had barely managed to say it in an audible enough volume with how much sleep and exhaustion you were fighting off. Despite that, it was clear he had heard you anyways. Through half lidded eyes struggling to remain open for more than a few seconds at a time you saw him pause from loving on your kitten almost as if you had told him something ridiculous and he was taking a moment to process it. It wasn't until you had registered his silence lasting longer that it should've for a moment like this, that you started to sober up from you sleepy state and turn your full attention to him.

“What's the matter-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“What are you tal-”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Jason-”

“You're mad at me.”

With a huff you push yourself up and remove yourself from the plush warm covers and expose yourself to the surprisingly cold air of your bedroom as you sit and stare at your boyfriend who stands holding your cat just a few feet from you staring back at you.

“Why would I be mad?”

“You called me Jason.”

You're tempted to crawl right back under your blankets. For how large and scary your boyfriend tends to be, when it comes to you he can be so silly and endearingly pathetic. You will admit that you hardly ever call him by his first name after the first few months of dating and it had only been petnames and nicknames since. Both of your first names were a rare occurrence in your household with how disgustingly in love and sappy the two of you were.

“You're worried cause I called you…your name?”

“You never call me just Jason and you know that.”

“You're an idiot” he's your idiot.

The slight tension in his shoulders immediately deflates as he feigns a dramatic gasp and covers your kitten's ears as if you said a very nasty swear at the two of them.

“How could you say that in front of our daughter! Do you know how damaging it will be for her to see her parents fight?”

“Well seeing as she's only been home for a month and walked in on her parents being very loving with each other more times than we can count on both of our hands combined, I'd say she'll be just fine.”

With the tension fully dissipated now and the both of you all giggles and love sick smiles, Jason walks over to where you sit in bed and plops the kitten on your lap before kissing you softly. The sneaky bastard tries to heaten the moment up, but you (hesitantly) pull away before he's successful.

“Nuh uh. Go shower you smell like gunpowder and outside.”

“What? I thought you liked my natural musk.” He’s got that stupid playful smile on his face that never fails to get a giggle out of you.

“That is not your natural “musk”, you smell like Gotham. Now go shower before you're sleeping on the couch tonight. Jason.”

He immediately straightens up and pouts at your use of his first name again but still makes his way to the bathroom. You don't miss the way he leaves the door completely open as he turns on the water and undresses as an invitation for you to join him. With a dreamy sigh and a kiss to your kitten's forehead, you get yourself up and out of bed and make your way to the bathroom door.

Inspired by a blurb from @gay-dorito-dust !

Read it here!

[redpool]

Please god, just let me hug him.

[dcextremefan]

The Writer - Gotham Knights Jason Todd x reader - Part 2

Warning: same as the part 1, by the way, read the last chapter and also use of remedies (do not repeat the same actions as the protagonist, go to see a specialist/doctor when you start to feel bad phisically or emotionally)

After the Red Hood saved you and you posted about it on your blog, you got tons of likes from thousand of people who lives in Gotham. You were laying in your bed moving your legs excitedly and then you received an email. An anonymous email.

Your smile faded and then you send a copy of an archive to this email and closed it, you started to feel your heartbeat go faster and a little bit of dizziness.

"God... for how long will I still do it?" you asked to yourself "what would father do?"

You get up of your bed and goes to the bathroom and looked at your reflection at the mirror, you opened the high balcony and you took a pill. A tear fell of your eye, but you quickly wiped it off with your hand. You grab your notebook and placed on your desk and you finally sleep.

Something you did not notice it's a vigilante who is watching you from afar. Red Hood watches you fall asleep and he enters through you apartment's window and starts inspecting everything.

"Belfry, I've entered into (Y/N)'s apartment" Red Hood informed quietly to not wake you up

"okay... that's kinda weird, I hope we'll never do it again. I don't want us to get reputation as a stalker" Tim has said

"Tim, don't worry. We are just investigating. And Jason, try to find at least some clues about (Y/N)'s life" Barbara demanded

"don't you think that's invasion of privacy?" Dick asked

"what Jason has said to us earlier got my attention. Why would some random thugs assault a normal civilian writter?" Barbara answered

"not just any writter. A very famous writter, maybe they were just after her money, after all she sells books" Tim suggested

"anyway, what did you find, Jason?" Dick asked

"nothing special, she loves drinking a lot of tea and... hmm" Jason stopped "she uses remedies to control anxiety"

"have you checked in her computer?" Barbara asked

Jason went to see in your computer, but it needs password, he buffed

"belfry, her computer needs password" Jason informed

"the one who can discover passwords so easily is Babs" Dick informed

"unfortunately I cannot discover the password right now, but I had an idea. Tim, you with me?" Barbara asked

"you know it" Tim answered

Jason started to search more about you in your apartment and he finds a portrait of you inside of your locker, it's you in a graduation uniform with a woman who is older than you.

"I found a portrait of (Y/n) with a woman who might be her mother. Not only that, she is wearing the graduation uniform and it says 'Chemistry College'" Jason has informed

"wait what? No no no, she always put on her bio that she is graduated at Literature, how can she lie about something like that?" Tim asked surprised

"we'll find out" Jason said

TO BE CONTINUED...

[arkham-moth]

His smile 😭🥰❤️ he’s so pretty and handsome and gorgeous and big and strong and UUUGGGGGGHHHHHH I LOVE HIM ❤️❤️❤️ also his eyes he has such kind eyes 😭

[trincketbox]

Jason Todd ♥️⚰️

Click for better resolution.

Listen, hairy Jason™ it's real TO ME.

Here's a silly pic of the silly war criminal boy

[oohyasumi]

I don't get how ppl don't like GK jason. One look at that man and i feel like a rabid dog gnawing at my screen....like yes the hair is horrendous but c'mon now, the rest?!? The scar?! God have mercy. The things i would do for this man. Maybe I'm biased because i love big men with scars and all but still

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Early Morning Nightcap

Time Written - 9:48 a.m

Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (Bite me, I like when they make Jason look rugged an “ugly,” he is very gorgeous to me 😭✨)

Jason always tries his best to be as quiet as possible when he comes home in the early hours of the morning.

Exhaustion weighed down his entire body, heavy feet treading through the bedroom door, his mask dropped onto the nearest surface, not harboring much care to toss his jacket somewhere along the ground. Settled under dark, tussled blankets was his sweetheart, hugging his pillow close to your face, breathing in his scent for comfort when he was away.

Silent as he could attempt to be, given his large stature, the heavy dip of the mattress makes the frame creak, lightly shifting your sleeping body as he crawls into bed beside you.

Fully awake or dead asleep, nothing would stop him from grabbing your thighs, yanking your panties down your legs to bury his tongue deep into your cunt. You must’ve been in the midst of a very nice dream, leaving you all wet and sticky to Jason’s utter delight. Sucking your clit has you writhing out of sleep, hips involuntarily thrashing against his greedy mouth, grasping along your ass to keep you as close as possible.

Low mumbles escape his throat while he reinforces his grip, lapping you up as if he hadn’t drank anything for hours throughout his entire patrol.

You would spew out all your whiny little whimpers and pleas of his name, your fingers making a quick mess of his hair that was nearly matted down by his hood before. Like that was going to stop him. The sting of your nails rasp along his scalp as you came to climax only urged his eagerness to fuck you since he walked through the door, his cock begging to be freed from his tactical pants.

There’s no effort to wipe the mess off his chin once he sits up, promptly kissing you before you had a chance to sit up, urging you back down to bed. He could drink up all he want from your sweet folds, knowing you’d be gushing again in seconds.

You mew his name in between heavy kisses, tasting yourself on his tongue as his broad body spoons yours, trapping you in a shadow of security by your eager boyfriend. Bare skin pressed against warm carbon armor plating, gloved hands slipping under your shirt to palm your supple tits.

“Please babe, I need you,” Jason pants desperately in your ear, lifting your leg up over his holstered thigh, quickly working himself free from the damn confining zipper.

He bites his left glove off with his teeth, rolling two fingers along your pussy before stroking your sensitive folds to lube up his fingers, fisting his cock a few times.

“C’mon baby, c’mon, let me in. Fuck— let me in,” he rasps against your neck, the head of his cock brushing along your slippery folds.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he curses heavily once the head of his cock pops through your tight, quivering walls. The delightful stretch of your walls taking in every hot, girthy inch draws out a rich groan deep from his chest, melding perfectly with your whimpers. “God, That’s my girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”

Large hands grip your waist at the sides, your face fully flushed and gasping with each persistent rut of his hips. His throbbing cock thrusts deep inside your warm cunt, his dirty boot bracing against the mattress for additional stability, a mess the two of you can worry about much later.

Jason peppers you with praises in between multiple sloppy kisses, licking up beads of sweat along your skin as he tucks his chin against your neck. With each praise came a sting of bitter impatience laced in his tone, blunt nails harshly digging pretty crescents into your hips, rocking you back harder against his cock with no struggle, amplifying the sounds of your sloppy wet cunt swallowing him whole.

Exertion caused sweat to dapple along his forehead, primal, intimate desire coming out through hot pants and guttural grunts along your collarbone. Your shirt stretched thin from his persistent grasping at your bouncing tits, your heart drumming rapidly against his thick palm as he clasps hold of your neck.

A short symphony of sharp curses murmured against your lips in between each hot, heavy kiss, the constant rattling of his jacket buckles mingling with the headboard drumming against the wall.

“You’re so perfect, Keepin’ nice an’ wet f’me.” Teal eyes boring deeply into yours, coaxing orgasm after orgasm with each rut. His calloused thumb over your perky button, ensuring your walls squeeze him a little tighter. “Were you playin’ with yourself after I left? Heh, got myself a dirty little whore.”

Trembling fingers cling to blankets, bedsheets and his lightly bulging forearm, your mind running on blank from Jason’s relentless pace, mercilessly bullying his cock against your sweet spots.

He hushes against your cheek when you’re brought to hot, pleasurable tears, fingers finding rough purchase along the harness belt along his waist for leverage. “Shhh shh, c-can’t sleep without filling ya. You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”

His rugged, no patience attitude changed in seconds, leaving him a pleading mess of a man trembling against your body, feverishly moaning against your neck. “Please baby, please lemme fill this perfect little pussy, lemme stuff you full f’me.”

His words nearly melt together in his haste to beg further, quickening his abuse via bullying your cervix and pumping you full of cum. He halts once when his breathing hitches, damp hips spasming while wrapping his arms tightly around your body, rocking you down on his dick.

“That’s it,” he grits out, squeezing you tighter against his burly figure, clutching your plush thighs with an ego boosting satisfaction flooding throughout his exhausted body, properly fucking his girlfriend full.

The sun would shine over an exhausted couple, your overstimulated body stuffed very full with crescent marks and bruises the size of your boyfriend’s fingertips dappled along your hips.

You’d wake up delightfully sore from the awkward position his arms held you in, making Jason irritably stir from his two hour slumber to your overstimulated whines, your flushed cunt desperately squeezing around him as if to push him out.

To your dismay, he clicks his tongue by your ear before rocking his hips once, his slowly hardening cock brushing directly against your g-spot. A ‘minor’ warning of what’s to come.

How mean of you to improperly wake him after an exhausting night of patrolling Gotham. What kind of needy, impatient girl do you think you are?

[artzysyam]

GK! Jason have hairy arms…

Is there any mods to see him… shirtless?

For science of course

[kuromitos]

I know I'm late to the party but I need to say this now!

Gk!Jason isn't ugly! He just got a bad haircut! I swear to God that just it!

I mean we have seen some ugly ass Jason's design before

(*cough* outlaw webtoon jason *cough*)

But this take on him isn't even that bad. He just looks older honestly. Makes sense with how he portray in the game. So I've never had a problem with it

Besides I think the good they did for him in the voice and personality department out ways any bad they did in the looks department.

Plus he looks dad-shaped to me. Like he looks like those dad's that looks scary when you first see them but melts when his kids or wife call his name. Like I can see him being a father to like 2 girls.

Sidenote: I just found this screenshot from the game:

Why the hell they didn't go with that hair?? He looks good! Like a mobster but in a good way.

[liyawritesss]

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 — 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍:

𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜

—> SYNOPSIS

—> Being stuck in the Belfry while her siblings pour their time, efforts, and grief into solving Bruce’s last case, (y/n) is virtually alone. She has not spoken since the funeral and is often caught spaced out in thought or staring at the display of what is left of her father’s Batman suit. Upon expressing her grievances, her brothers Dick, Jason, and Tim, and honorary sister Barbara, concoct a plan to bring their beloved eldest sister back to them.

⚠️This Series Will Contain: canon-accurate violence with weapons such as guns, knives, batons, customized batman gear and other vigilante gear, hand to hand combat, mentions of blood, injuries, heavy talk about grief, depression, anxiety, major character death (bruce wayne/batman). Readers discretion is advised.

“The news is certainly having a field day this morning.”

The sound of hot tea being poured into porcelain china is one of few that echoed throughout the large and imposing tower in the early morning. The sun’s beams peak through the glass if the tower’s window, flickering across the hardwood floor, dethawing the hideaway from the cold of night. They even cast a halo around the tall and foreboding supercomputer that was nestled into the middle of the room, warm golding casted across matte onyx as morning protrudes its way into the Belfry.

Alfred Pennyworth pours the morning tea, five cups of white decorated with gold trim resting on the serving tray and he pours into each one. In the background, one of the many monitors of the Bat-Computer details the morning news, reporting the events of the night prior.

“What can you say,” comes the thick rasp of Jason Todd as he approaches behind Alfred, who hands him one of the five dainty cups, and the broad man accepts saucer and cup in his hands, albeit with hesitance, “it’s not everyday you get to see Gotham’s Darling break down like that.”

The video is of horrible quality, blurred and unfocused in some points with desaturated coloring, but it shows to the whole of Gotham City, clear as day, (Y/N) Wayne breaking down at the news of her father’s death. The shrill scream which tore through the surrounding crowd of paparazzi stilled every human being within proximity to the young woman. Just as it was that night, those tuning in to the news that morning saw (Y/N)’s form crumple into the arms of her eldest brother, Dick Grayson, another adoptee of Bruce Wayne, completely distraught and devastated.

 It brought both men to discomfort, as they tore their eyes from the screen; Jason turning to sip at the brown liquid in his hand, Alfred attending to dropping sugar cubes into their respective teacups.

“I hate that video.” Dick Grayson enters, light as a feather on his feet despite the newly added weight of grief which lingers in his eyes. He wipes the towel around his neck across his forehead to rid of the sweat from his morning workout, bidding Alfred a nod of acknowledgement.

“What, ‘cuz they didn’t get your good side?” Jason taunts.

Dick delivers a look, one that feigned irritation, towards Jason as he accepts the  cup of tea Alfred offers. Three sugars, mild sweetness, just as he had always liked it. “No,” he responds, finally, “because it’s got her bad side out for the world to see.”

(Y/N) Wayne. Gotham’s Darling. Bruce Wayne’s first child and heiress to the Wayne Family. Many had dubbed her to be the city’s saving grace. She provided a breath of fresh air and a sight of beauty to the city that had not been seen in the city since her father. Although never officially introduced to society, (Y/N) started her pursuits young and with a gift for all things art, put her passion to the test and began to introduce to the city numerous art programs and residencies involving hundreds of different art forms and mediums. While city officials would never admit it, her efforts, having started as young as fourteen, gave several opportunities for the underprivileged and marginalized communities of the city, from jobs to after school activities to possible career paths. All while doing so with grace, poise, charisma, and confidence instilled in her by the man who’d taken her in at twelve.

(Y/N) Wayne was truly Gotham’s Darling. She loved the city with everything she had, and regardless of blood relation, saw Bruce as her true father. One could only imagine the pain she was going through. Not even her adopted siblings, of which she was undoubtedly close to, could father the despair that clung to their sister's very heart; always full of joy and kindness, now aching with pain and loathing.

“She still hasn’t talked, has she?” Dick asks Alfred, who releases a baited sigh.

“Unfortunately so, Master Richard,” Alfred says, “not even at the taunt of her favorite pastries, I’m afraid.”

(Y/N), by all accounts, had fallen mute following the moment in which Dick had disclosed to her the god awful truth that Bruce was gone. Not a word left her lips since her arrival at the Belfry with Alfred in tow, with sentiments that all of Bruce’s children should convene under the same roof for the time being. While the weight in the room was already heavy with frustrations and disagreements amongst the initial four vigilantes, (Y/N)’s aura carried an air of solemness and devastation that speed into the wooden interior of the Belfry far more prominently than any childish fighting that ensued between the siblings. At the head of the congregation, Dick could only watch helplessly as (Y/N), suitcase in hand, rejected any attempts at comfort, trudging off to an unoccupied room that she would claim for the indefinite future.

“I-” Dick wants words to leave his lips, but the barrier of uncertainty controls his brain and provides him very little to speak on. After one sip of the tea he’d taken into his hands, he sits it on the desk in front of him.

“We’ve gotta do something,” he says, “we have to get her back- back to normal.”

Jason cocks an eyebrow and scoffs, “Normal?”

Dick turns to the younger, eyebrow cocked, as if gesturing for Jason to explain further. 

“Yes, Jason,” he emphasizes, “or some semblance of it. Have you seen her?”

“Have you?” Jason retorts. His nose scrunches in vexation, the scar trail rippling under his intense frown. He rises from his initial seat in one of the many office chairs that surround the looming monitors, and his hands start to speak before the words leave his mouth.

“I don’t know if your head’s really wrapped around this whole situation here, Dick,” the larger man starts, hand gesturing in a swirling motion in the space before his temple to emphasize his wording,  “but that girl up there was the closest to Bruce out of all of us. As far as any of us are concerned, there IS no kind of ‘normal’ anymore for her. What ‘normal’ can she ever go back to?”

“So, what do you say we do,” Dick counters, arms flying out at his sides, matching Jason’s frustrations, “let her rot away and become a shell of herself?”

Dick continues even though Jason has turned from the older, as arguments between the two have always held the same standpoint; where one tries too hard to fix it all, and the other challenges the notion of pushing too hard for a solution that would come in due time. “She’s our sister, and if anything, right now she needs us to help her-!”

“-and if she really wants the help, she’ll come to us!” Jason rebuttals. “(Y/N)’s got a mouth of her own she can use very well, Dick. It’s not like we’ve never encountered this kind of situation before!”

And maybe it’s that Dick Grayson pride that’s shadowing whatever truth may come from Jason’s words, whatever truth that he’s too proud to admit on. Or maybe it’s the helplessness that sinks into his bones whenever he’s seen you at your worst, and he couldn’t do anything about it, and yet it only pushed him harder to try. Yet, Jason would argue that he knew better. He knew better than to peck at a festering wound without allowing it time to register its identity, its origins, its truth. What good would any kind of ‘help’ they could provide, when the verity of your own pain had yet to make itself known?

Bruce’s death killed a piece of all of them,  there was no denying that, even for Jason. From you, however, the old man took more than a piece of your heart. No, with the incineration of the Wayne Manor and everything within, Bruce and his death didn’t merely chip off a piece of you with him to the afterlife. His death broke you in ways he, nor the others, nor even yourself could ever understand. 

The option was clear to Jason at the time; when you came to terms with the pain, when you would make the first move, then, and only then, would it be fit to provide whatever kind of comfort or support you required. On your terms.

“If she wants help, she knows where she can find it,” Jason reiterates firmly, “on her terms. Pushing it is only gonna make matters worse.”

Dick never listened to Jason, though, never gave his words the benefit of the doubt. Though the cold-shock of an ache in his abdomen told him that perhaps the raven haired man with the white streak of hair had a strong claim, Dick couldn’t back down. He wouldn't. He couldn’t sit by when the voice in his head screamed to knock on your door every morning, willing to risk being met with staggering silence if it meant you knew he was there, or have his ears strain for the slightest chance to hear your door creak open as a sign of life. He couldn’t sit by without at least attempting to try.

“I can’t do that, Jason,” Dick says straightforwardly, “I can’t sit by and watch for the possibility of things to get better on their own; not with her.”

The bickering grew so potent and consuming of one another that the presence of two other individuals had not yet caught their attention. Such has always happened whenever Dick and Jason’s spats grew. Though they rarely happened out of despise or resentment. Their passion lied with the care they had for each other as brothers, and a sibling love as trauma-bonded as theirs was bound to always reach intense heights.

“Well, maybe this experience will humble you,” Jason grumbles, “Golden Boy can’t solve every problem that he runs into-”

“Okay!” Bellows Barbara Gordon, her head-turning introduction silencing the bickering between the eldest boys. She, alongside Tim Drake, make their entrance into the center of the room. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose, the glint from the sun flashes across the lenses and reveals the stern gaze she holds that contrasts with the light lilt in her voice. 

“Let’s take a break from your pissing contest,” Barbara says, voice decorated in a warning tone, “so we can talk about what Tim was able to uncover.”

There stands Tim Drake with a smile on his face that screams with pride, and for a second, Jason and Dick’s facial expressions shift into confusion when the younger boy struts towards the monitor display, parting the tension as well as Jason and Dick’s bodies from their close proximity. Tablet in hand, he taps the back of the black case with his fingers giddily. There’s a light in his eye that catches everyone's attention. “I decrypted it!”

“Decrypted what?” Falls from Dick’slips. Barbara allows Alfred to pour her a cup of tea, drinking the dark, warm liquid with gratitude. 

“So remember that weird file that popped up after Batman’s last video? The one that was bugging out on the screen, and no matter how many times we tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge?” He doesn’t necessarily wait for an answer; connecting the screen of his tablet to that of the large monitor setup behind him. “So, I tried everything in the book to get it to open. Hex dump, breaking down the encryption algorithm, I even made my own program with a variety of inputs, outputs, passphrases, keys-”

“-you’re losin’ us, kid,” Jason droned, reeling Tim back to the original topic at hand, “just spit it out.”

“-okay, okay,” the young Robin took a deep breath, dramatizing the reveal of his findings, “turns out, it wasn’t encrypted at all! Well, not in the traditional way.”

“Traditional?” Dick raises an eyebrow.

“Remember when Bruce made us all learn Morse Code as part of the beginning stage of our Robin training?”

“Worse part of it, if you ask me.” Jason gruffs.

“Wasn’t particularly fond of it, but yeah, I remember.” Dick hums.

“Geez, maybe that’s why he left this part to me,” Tim muses, unable to shake the sly smile that creeps onto his lips, “he did say I caught on to it faster than you two.”

“The file, Tim! The file!” Barbara reminds him. “Before they start arguing again!”

“Okay, okay! I’m getting there, I promise!” Despite the urging to reveal his findings from all members in the room, Tim’s giddiness was just boiling over. He surely was making the revelation a dramatic endeavor; even Alfred began to tune in to the show. He sets down Tim’s cup of tea in advance for the younger.

“I had to really sit down and analyze the tricky parts of the encryptions - the binary code, the encryption algorithm, trying to find weaknesses in it - and I finally, FINALLY got it!”

Tim grabs one of the rolling chairs, setting his table to the side on the table and taking a seat. He picks up the teacup, takes a swig of the smooth, blended drink, honoring Alfred’s work before setting it aside. On the display monitors, it shows Tim dragging the mouse cursor over to the bugged-out file. Silence follows as mouse clicks fill the room. Dick approaches quizzingly, watching with squinted eyes. Then Jason. Then Barbara. Then Alfred. They all look on with suspicion.

“Bruce must’ve known that as the only Morse Code addict, I would try this at some point,” Tim explains, “and from the banged up passphrase code, I could catch some letters that were used, and so I did the process of elimination…”

He trails off, his careful clicking soon coming to an end. A second passes before the screen goes black. Then, a pop-up appears on the screen.

“Would you like to open this file?” Dick reads.

“Well, duh,” Jason scoffs. Dick and Barbara side-eye him, but he pays no mind to it.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,” Tim clicks the ‘yes’ icon on the screen, and as the pop-up closes, the screen shifts as several pop-ups of other files open into different monitors on the setup. The three older vigilantes (plus one butler) step back, either impressed, in awe, or a state of confused wonder.

“Welcome to Operation: Brown Eyes.”

The other three vigilante look amongst themselves. There's an air of cautious curiosity that covers the room.

“So, on top of this ridiculous last case Bruce left, we also get assigned a side-quest?” Jason concludes.

Dick shoots Jason a cocky smirk, “Looks like my idea wins.” The words reminiscent of Jason's own previous ones spoken upon their first arrival at the Belfry, spoken out of frustration, makes the younger roll his eyes.

Attention shifts to Barbara as she struts past the two men, joining Tim at the desk. A few series of clicks and clacks on keyboard shoots pop-ups of images and description boxes. Alongside them also appear newspaper articles detailing charitable feats that (Y/N) had dedicated time, labor and money towards for the betterment of Gotham. Among them appear the establishment of an arts studio, book drives, and art exhibits, the pages liters with praise and gratitude for the young woman's efforts.

Then, there's the pictures of items also shown, and upon further examination, Dick recognizes at least one of them.

“That paint box,” he starts, once furrowed eyebrows unfurl into an expression of realization, “that's an antique. I remember Bruce getting that for her for her birthday.”

The pictured items, in fact, were all items that had some relevance or connection to (Y/N). Jason figures this out as he notes the hardcover novel amongst them, the jacket being distinguishable to him. From there, it doesn't take him long to figure out the objective of this surprise operation. “He knew.”

Jason grumbles. “The bastard, he knew what to have us do to help her.”

“What do you expect,” Barbara says with a raised eyebrow, “it's Bruce. He prepares for everything; especially the unthinkable.” She directs her gaze up towards the monitor display, biting the inside of her cheek. “As bittersweet as it is.”

“It's like the last case file he gave us,” Tim chimes in, “incomplete. He was probably writing this when Ra's Al-Ghul jumped him, too.”

The soft cluttering of porcelain against silver reminds the four of Alfred's presence, as he gathers the tea pot and accompanying condiment bowls onto the serving tray, “Another thing he'd want the four of you to work together complete, I'm sure.”

His words hold more meaning than what they may appear to have, and the four vigilantes know this for certain. As Alfred takes the tray and embarks towards The staircase to the second level, he can hear the gathering of the four of them, and a faint smile crosses his lips.

Alfred's destination is the one room far off to the southern part of the Belfry Tower. He drops three sugar cubes into the last remaining porcelain teacup as his feet slow, approaching the door. He knocks three times, only to alert the person on the other of his presence, as he did not expect a response.

“Your morning tea, Lady (Y/N),” he announces, setting the teacup and saucer on a smaller serving tray he had tucked under his arm. After rising, clears his throat and speaks again, “I'll return shortly for breakfast.”

Alfred then pads away, serving tray in hand, ears straining for the faint sound of her door creaking open.

Tag List: @punkeropercyjackson @insomniac-jay @neesieiumz @honeypotsworld @honeybleed @hellkaiserinphoenix @saintriots @agent-nobody-knows @badass-dora-milaje @sincerelyzee @anuttellaa

[lunallaa]

||when the cat distribution system strikes||

gotham knights!jason todd x gn!reader

{Not edited/proof read please excuse any errors♡}

Ever since the two of you started dating, your favorite view and time of day consisted of the quite moments you and Jason shared when the city was asleep and everything for once was at peace. Now, you weren't a fan of being woken up in the middle of the night, but you found it hard to remain upset when you could look over at the other side of the bed and see your boyfriend finally have the moments of peace that he deserves for all that he does for the people of Gotham. Recently though, that view of yours got an upgrade. Tonight you had been torn out of your sleep by a slightly unpleasant dream and as you turned over to adjust yourself for sleep again you were met with the sweetest sight. There of course was your boyfriend peacefully dosing away, but with the newest adition of a small little void of a kitten just as peacefully sleeping on his chest. That tiny little thing was an unexpected new member of the little family the two of you had made and you wouldn't change a thing,even if the kitten still remained unnamed after being home for about a month now. You'll probably have to change that soon.

You remember when that furry little angel entered your lives like it was yesterday. You had gone out to the Bodega around the corner from your apartment to grab a few of their home-made pastelillos* for dinner because Jason was home for the night nursing a sprained ankle and craving one of his favorite meals. You remember being in a rush that evening due to the forecast of rain that was supposed to roll in at any moment, and due to that you were meant to be in and out and home within just a handful of minutes. Instead, on your way back home you were stopped dead in your tracks by the most pathetic little meow you have ever heard. Your goal of getting home as soon as possible was abandoned as you made your way to the tattered cardboard box sitting just at the entrance of the alleyway you almost walked past. Strays and pets that simply found themselves outside were no strangers to the neighborhood, not so much abandoned animals, which seemed to be the case as you get Closer to the tattered and damp box. Once you got close enough to get a peek inside you were able to see there in the shadow of the box the smallest kitten you have ever seen in your life. You had wondered to yourself if the poor thing was runt that had been left out here due to the fact you saw no evidence of any littermates or a mom. By then it had started to lightly rain, and you wasted no time in removing the hoodie you wore then gently picking and wrapping up the damp little creature as it cried out at the sudden change of environment.

Anytime you take a little more time than usual on an errand than planned, Jason can't help himself from becoming worried. It also doesn't help his worry when you don't answer you phone when he sends a few texts trying to see what was possibly making you late when it should've only taken you around twenty minutes. After hearing your voicemail message for the fourth time he was almost ready to (hesitantly) call one of his siblings to go look for where you could've gone, not only could you be in some kind of danger but the rain was starting to worry him. He was halfway off the couch when your soaking form finally came through the door. You barely gave him time to sigh in relief, let alone welcome you home and ask what happened as you hurriedly dropped the bag of food into his lap before quickly making your way into the bathroom. That worried him. In the last few years of you dating, you never came home and did not speak to him immediately, let alone rush past him like that. He thought he was worried before, but now he is concerned and almost scared of what's happening that he doesn't know about. Jason carefully got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen to put your dinner into the microwave to keep warm before he made his way into the restroom to see what you could possibly be up to. The last thing he expected to see was you cradling a small soaking wet ball of black fur while stressfully searching the internet on your phone. While he had already began connecting the dots on what was happening, it wasn't until he had hobbled his way to your side and the furball meowing at him that he was fully aware of what was going on.

“Babe? Everything okay?”

“Oh! Jason! I was on my way back home but then I found this poor thing and I couldn't bring myself to leave it there I had to take it home. I'm so sorry.”

“Baby, no need to apologize. I'm Just glad you're home safe. Now, let me take over you need to go dry off and get warm.”

That night you and Jason had done what you could with your limited supply to bathe and care for the kitten before agreeing that you two would make the trip to the vet clinic in the morning to make sure it had a clean bill of health. You two had also immediately decided that you'd adopt the kitten due to how attached you had become and that Jason has no ability to say no to you when it comes to Stuff like this.

Life with a kitten was certainly new, it felt almost like the next big step in the commitment of your relationship. Thankfully the kitten was perfectly healthy, and your theory of it being a runt that was undesired was spot on. You had also found out that the kitten was a little girl and she fell in love with the two of you. She would constantly follow you around the apartment and was never more than a few feet from your side, if there was a moment where she wasn't with you it was because she discovered that Jason was her favorite playmate and her favorite pillow. You couldn't blame her, with his higher than normal body heat and big soft muscles he was your favorite pillow too. It had slightly worried you at first that a kitten was too big of a change and commitment for the two of you to make so suddenly, but that sweet little furball made you quickly realize that you and Jason were in the perfect spot in your relationship to handle just that.

Now as you lay in bed looking at the two loves of your life, you reflect on that rainy evening and feel so greatful for the universe putting this sweet little thing in your path. You also realize that it's almost been a month and your kitten needs a name.

"Jason. Hey.” He's awake immediatley.

"Yeah? What's wrong baby? What's happening?”

"We need to name her.” Jason relaxes now that he knows there's no danger, just his sweet girl and her late night thoughts.

"Yeah? What do you Suggest?” There's a pause as you think about your answer.

“Hmmm. What about…Midna?”A soft laugh escapes him as he recognizes the name. He wouldn't expect any less than for you to chose the name of your favorite character from one of you favorite video games.

“Hmmm nerd. Now go to sleep.”

"Okay goodnight, love you.”

“Goodnight, love you too beautiful.”

"I was talking to Midna.”

At that he softly moves and deposits the sleeping kitten onto the pillows above your heads before moving himself to softly smother you in his arms for the rest of night. Sleep comes back easily when your little family is all together in this little pocket of peace.

This blurb takes place in the same little universe as my last blurb :)

Read it here!

pastelillos*- basically Puerto Rican empanadas (I have a personal hc that Jason is mixed and half Puerto Rican♡)

Also if you recognize the name I picked for their kitten I love you♡