#he’s supposed to be a dick but

[creeppostss]

Smoke Sesh

pairing; Jeff the killer / NB!reader

warnings; smoking, shotgunning, fluff with sexual references and not proofread :3

summary; jeff not so nicely barges in your room for a midnight smoke. You give in and smoke alongside him. Fluff but it gets semi-sexual. I wrote this at 1 in the morning and it was too long for me to add actual fucking. If you guys hype this up enough I’ll write a part two where they ACTUALLY fuck.

You were sitting in your room, minding your own business. It was a late night, probably around midnight. The whole house was silent, everyone asleep in their own rooms. Or so you thought. The knock at your door startled you, making you jump and look over to the door. You stayed silent, and so did the person on the other side. But you sighed and decided to get up. You should’ve pretended to be asleep.

Upon opening your door you saw the last person you wanted to see this late at night. Jeffrey. You had honestly debated slamming the door in his face and going back to your bed, but something felt different. He looked calmer, nicer. He seemed it too. Since you opened your door he hasn’t tried to make a single snide comment. Surprising for him. Still, you didn’t let him in quite yet, leaning against the doorframe and glaring.

“Can I help you?” Your words sounded more bitter than you intended, grimacing internally. He did not answer you, instead going to push past you into your room. He took position on your bed, sitting upright. He looked at you and patted a spot on the bed beside him, beckoning you over. You groan, close your door, and move to sit beside him.

Once you’ve sat down, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He pulls two, avoiding the one cigarette in the pack that he’s flipped upside-down. He calls it his lucky. Smokes it last. Jeff discarded the box of cigarettes onto your bed, instead digging back in his pocket to find a lighter. It was something Nina had given him, so it was pink and flashy. He lit both cigarettes and passed you yours, then took his in between his lips.

It wasn’t often that you two were caught together. You mostly spent time alone. Arguing. Bickering. But that wasn’t special to you. He argued with everyone. So seeing him so quiet made you arguably more tense than if he was running his mouth. You finally brought the cigarette up to your mouth, inhaling deeply and holding it for a moment before the release. You had to try to not cough. You hadn’t smoked in a while. You figured now was a good time to ask what he had come for.

“Did you want something? You don’t usually come looking for me, y’know. Need a favor?”

Jeff grunted and took another deep inhale of his own cigarette. You were beginning to regret letting him light them in here, your room would be sticky and smokey after this. Jeff breathed out his smoke and looked towards you, some kind of look on his face. It was a mix between smugness and something you couldn’t quite read.

“Yeah, actually. Jack is crashing in my room tonight. He said he had a surgical experiment go wrong in his room. Said he couldn’t sleep there tonight. Big mess.” He cut off his own sentence, sticking his cigarette back between his lips. This allowed you a moment to speak.

“So what are you saying? You want to sleep here? In my room? In my bed?” You practically laughed at the idea, a look of disbelief and some kind of humor painted across your face. Jeff just nodded. Oh.

“Oh. Well, fuck. I mean-…I guess? That’s fine. Just for tonight though, right?”

He nodded softly again. Jeff glanced at his shortening cigarette, then back at you. It seemed like some kind of switch flipped on in his brain. He leaned in closer to you, making you lean backwards uncomfortably.

“I wanna try something.” And he didn’t let you respond. He took a fat drag of his cigarette, not inhaling. Jeff reached up and cupped your cheek, sticking his thumb in your mouth to open it up. Then he pushed close to your face, almost mouth to mouth. You were honestly turning a little red. Much to your dismay. Finally, the tension eased as he opened his mouth and allowed his tongue to push the smoke out of his mouth, letting it be inhaled by you.

The secondhand smoke was much harsher than the initial drag would be, so you only inhaled about half before you had to pull away to cough in the other direction. It burned your lungs, your throat feeling as if it would jump out of your body. Your eyes watered and made tears pill at the corners, threatening to spill if you coughed any more.

Jeff cocked his head and stared at you. He felt pity, disgust, many things. But there was something else. Admiration. After all, you still allowed him to shotgun for you even when you probably knew you couldn’t hold it. His lip pulled up on one side into some sort of half smile as he leaned forward to interrupt your coughing with a soft kiss.

You of course, didn’t expect that. But you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t even tell if you wanted to. When he saw that you weren’t going to pull away, he allowed himself to deepen the kiss. Your entire figure softened and your hands relaxed, not remembering you had a lit cigarette in your hand. The tip of your cigarette touched your opposite arm, making you yelp and pull back while you glanced down at the residual red mark. Jeff frowned at you and took your cigarette out of your hand, snuffing it out on his own arm.

You watched him press it against his white skin, the burn turning a small portion red. You looked up at him, staring with an expression that screamed “Why the fuck would you do that.” He just looked at you and shrugged gently, smiling softly.

“We match.” Jeff discarded both cigarette butts to the the table that sat beside your bed, careful to not allow either of the searing hot tips touch your wooden table. He was being kind and it was strange. Maybe it was just because he was late, maybe he was high. God knows. Whatever it was, it was nice.

He looked back at you with some kind of light in his eyes, the most that you’ve seen since you’ve been stuck up in this “mansion”. It made you want to kiss him again. So that’s what you did. You slid your hands up his face and laid them to rest on his cheeks, careful not to touch his scars. You liked them just fine, you just knew he was insecure about them.

You looked at him for reassurance, and he leaned in and allowed you to kiss him. As you kissed him, your hands moved back and slipped into his hair. The feeling of soft, yet greasy hair filled your touch. His scent was something of smoke and musk. It was attractive. Your hands began to unconsciously play with his hair, almost roughly coiling into it. He grunted softly and repaid the favor, his hands finding their way into your soft locks. He tugged softly which made you moan into the tender kiss.

Jeff pushed you back into the bed and positioned himself above you, in between your legs. The makeout session began to get more heated and rough, the hands in each others hair gripping more tightly and more precisely. There was meaning in this kiss now. Something more than a late night fling. It was filled with passion and comfort. But that wasn’t enough.

You bit Jeff’s lower lip which made him groan, biting back at yours harder. Your breath was hitching now, heart rate beginning to elevate. Jeffrey was the first one to pull away from the kiss, and his breathing matched yours. Quickened. He licked his lips and looked down at your neck, immediately going down to press sloppy kisses and licks to the sensitive area. You shuddered and moaned under your breath, wrapping your legs around Jeff’s torso.

It was a bit of a funny angle since he was above you, but you didn’t care. You felt so good, so right. Nothing else mattered. The tenderness was continued for only a short period of time. The gentle kisses ended as he bit down into your neck, beginning to suck a deep bruise into the skin. Your legs tightened around his waist as you muttered his name, nails clawing at the back of his shirt.

How badly you wanted more. You had been deprived of this contact for so long that even this had your brain powered into overdrive. How badly you wanted to beg him, please, please, more. But you didn’t. You didn’t want to risk the chance of losing this connection you already had. So you bit your lip and kept the silence.

Jeff sucked at least three hickeys into your tender skin, pulling back and looking down at his handiwork. You could practically hear his heartbeat. It was fast, faster than yours. He was panting too, whether it be from arousal or lack of oxygen from sucking at your neck for so long was a mystery. But he didn’t progress. You knew he wanted to, and you wanted to as well. But you both knew that it was better to stop now before you got in too deep.

He wriggled himself free from your legs and laid down beside you. You both stared at the ceiling, but you moved first, flipping to lay on your side, facing away from him. You could hear a noise of displeasure from him, but then you felt the bed move. You waited patiently for something to happen, and you got what you wanted. He had moved so he could spoon you, arm going to wrap around your waist in a hug.

You knew this wouldn’t last. So you took it in while you could now. Even if he had just got you so pent up. And you could feel he was too, his more than half hard boner prodding into your ass. Maybe you’d help him with that later. But for now you relished in the feeling of being held.

You fell asleep first. Jeff just made sure you stayed asleep. Once he was absolutely sure you wouldn’t wake up, he pressed a kiss to the back of your head before cuddling closer to your warm body, falling asleep in the comfort of your bed.

[swugflower]

Brucie Wayne gets interviewed and the question who, expect Batman, is his favorite Gotham hero.

After some awkward moments of silence, he blurts out that it’s Spoiler. Since she is the only one from the main active team that isn’t his kid and this way he avoids picking a favorite.

Meanwhile, the group chats explodes into chaos instantly.

[rainpunk07]

hear me out, danny speaking russian (dc x dp hc)

so i was just watching a video about space, right? allegedly, turns out if you (an american) wanna board the international space station you must speak russian fluently since the only way to get there is by a russian shuttle and pilot (nasa apparently ended their own shuttle program way back when??) (don’t quote me on this)

so picture danny learning russian at a relatively young age for the sole hope of going to space and such, and it coming out every once in a while when he’s mumbling or something like that (it’s basically second nature to him)

so danny ends up at gotham for whatever reason (demon twins, reveal gone wrong, idc, they’re all cool) and he wants to start anew, so he pretends to only speak russian?? ig?? it’d make for some funny/interesting BatFam interactions i suppose

i don’t know where i was going with this but i want to read prompts of danny speaking russian

[thebibliosphere]

Sat too long in my feelings about the Gotham Knights video game Jason Todd going to therapy and trying to engage with his siblings from a place of healing and hurt myself, so now I'm inflicting this on all of you, but:

Do you ever think about how Jason only ever gets to experience Dick as an extension of the breakdown of Dick and Bruce's relationship at that time? Granted, depending on the comic era, Dick maybe doesn't show up as much as he should, or Jason acts like an antagonistic little shit, but overall, Dick's falling out with Bruce overshadows all of it.

And, like, yeah, it's funny to joke that only Jason knows that Dick went through a shitbag teenage phase and that no one ever believes him. (Gaslight, Gate Keep, Gotham ✌) And Jason is irate about it because how can they not see through what is clearly The World's Best Big Brother Act? How can no one else see it's fake?

(Unless it's not fake, and Jason just wasn't worth loving... No, fuck off, he doesn't care, he doesn't. Leave him alone.)

But at the same time, what if Jason's the only one who realizes it's a trauma response?

What if Jason's in the middle of a therapy session or reading one of the self-help books we see him ordering, and he just has to take a moment to breathe because, of course, it's a fucking trauma response. Of course, it is.

Dick's not pretending to be anything. He was, in fact, so severely affected by Jason's death that he over-corrected and now refuses to let himself be anything other than the Perfect Big Brother. Because he can't. Because when he's not perfect, when he's not there for them, they die.

Suddenly the golden retriever's cheerfulness is less grating and more worrying. Dick's need for perfection is less an annoying personality trait to compete with and more an exhausted cry for help that no one else seems to see. Not even Dick.

Because Jason realizes now that he might have never managed to live up to the Golden Boy mantle, but Dick will never get to put it down, either. Because he can't let himself. Because bad shit happens when he does.

So what if that's what he hopes Dick reads between the lines in the email he sends him in GK?

What if, by saying, "Hey, I realize now trying to hold myself to your standards was damaging my relationship with you, but I need you to know it wasn't your fault," was also Jason saying, "Hey, this shit isn't healthy are you fucking okay?"

[everwalldigan]

Random reporter: Mr Wayne, do you think men can get pregnant?

Bruce: uh, I am.

Reporter: *laughs* you are?

Bruce, offended: how about a congratulations instead of laughing at me?

Reporter, starting to get flustered: oh, um congratulations, I’m sorry… so how far along are you?

Bruce: two weeks.

Reporter: oh, uh… how did you know you were pregnant after two weeks?

Bruce: my stomach was growling more than usual, plus me and him had sex so that’s probably where it came from…*points towards Clark across the room*

Reporter: did you take a pregnancy test?

Bruce: uh, no?

Reporter: then how do you know for sure?

Bruce, smiling condescendingly: because I have a kid, I know how it feels like and it was like this. Where did you think Dick came from?

Reporter: But you took him in after his—

Bruce, putting his hand on the reporters shoulder, concerned: There are pictures everywhere of the day of his birth. Are you feeling well? You look a little pale, maybe you should take an early night…

[lokutofu]

Pretty in blue 💙✨

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Dick is thrown back in time to a couple days before his past self is scheduled to leave on the mission to space, the one during which Jason will die.

Past Dick gets a very frantic and concerning phone call from someone claiming to be his future self, begging him not to go on the mission. And for some reason he‘s supposed to keep an eye on Jason? What the hell is that about? They’re not that close…

[chasiufan]

sooo… what are we??🥺

[phantom-0-writer]

Nightwing's car guy

Dick was doing well to establish himself in Bludhaven. He had an apartment, it was shitty but it was his. He had a day job as police officer, half the people there were in the cartels Nightwing was trying to crack down on, and the other half were in the cartels Nightwing was still trying to trace. He had his suit, still bat-grade, blue instead of the red, yellow, and green Jason got to wear now.

He did't have a cave. Or maybe it should be a nest because the whole bird thing. Burrow? What was the thing owls lived in called? The point is he made due without it. He had his apartment, and he had his supplies stashed away. It wasn't as much as in the Cave, but he didn't have Cave-funding. He could make due.

He didn't have an Oracle in his ear. But that came with the added bonus of not having a Bat either. He could do his own research, find his own information. And it wasn't like he and Babs were totally cut off. It was just only a little weird, because she was technically his ex. Sure she would be in his corner, but she was still his ex. He needed to save some face. Especially since he knew that Bruce and Babs liked to... talk. He could make due.

The only thing Dick was maybe, sorta, just maybe having a little trouble was with his bike. Well it wasn't his bike, it was Nightwing's. Which was precisely the trouble. He'd found a place to stash it, but Dick had never been a car guy... or in this case a bike guy. He would chase his rouges, speeding through the streets, and sure the bike was made for the tight corners and quick turns and the high speeds, and sure it could take a hit or two. But what about three or four? Or five?

Point was Dick needed a car- a bike guy. One that was cheap (he was only a cop), and knew how to not ask questions and keep his mouth shut (again- Nightwing's bike). All that on top of knowing enough on how to fix his bike. (it wasn't exactly the type you could find in store).

But the solution seemed to find him. Which Dick was aware was not generally how it worked, but he would count his blessings. He had been out on patrol, the type that had involved his bike and high speeds. Unfortunately it did not involve the perp in handcuffs and on his way to jail. Dick had been on his tail, could've had him too, if the bike hadn't started sputtering. Dick had done as much as he could for it, but she really needed a pair of eyes that actually knew what they were looking at.

Mumbling curses to himself, Nightwing had been ready to head off to at least catch a dust trail of what operation he'd find himself in next. He could feel the eyes watching him. His hair stood in edge, and when Nightwing turned to look around he couldn't see anyone. Maybe he was being haunted. Trying to arrange his bearings, Nightwing turned back around to get on his bike. When there was suddenly a mop of choppy black hair couched down next to it.

Nightwing blinked at him. How had he managed to get there? "Uh, something you need, man?" Nightwing asked the boy, totally not freaked out.

The boy- teen, he was only a year or two younger than Dick- looked up, large blue eyes staring. As if it was odd for Nightwing to have addressed him. It took him a moment longer to realize that the bike was, in fact, Nightwing's. "You need to change your [important engine part]." He pointed lamely, standing up to his height of only a hair shorter than Dick.

"How do you know that?" Nightwing asked before he could think of the danger the unknown person might pose.

"That's why it was making that sound. It'll put too much pressure on the engine so it won't be able to go as fast it would be otherwise. Which, I take it, would cause you problems." he tipped his head in the direction the rouge had run off in.

Nightwing considered it for just a moment, not wanting the perfect opportunity to get away from him. "Do you know how to fix it?"

The guy looked almost offended, "Yeah."

"I'll pay you." Nightwing jumped at the opportunity, "If you fix it."

Any normal person would've said no to a guy dressed in bullet-proof spandex with a blue bird on his chest and a weird mask. "Sure." He shrugged easily, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes as he eyed the vehicle. After a moment, "Name's Danny, by the way. You'd probably need to know that." Danny eyes his suit, "Who are you, like, blue-jay?"

"Nightwing." He corrected easily, his name hadn't made the streets yet.

"The Robin reject?" Was Danny immediate response, eyebrow arched up in amusement.

"The what?"

Danny grimaced, the laugh never leaving his face, "Ooh, sorry. Touchy subject?"

"I am not a Robin reject." Dick couldn't tell this civilian that he was Robin. Had been.

Nightwing's bike ran better than it had since he had moved to Bludhaven after Danny had gotten his hands on it. And Danny's payment of ("i don't trust ur money, just buy me food") lunch had been a steal in return. Maybe next time they should go somewhere a little nicer.

Because the bike was doing so well, after Danny fixed it.

Not for any other reason.

[fnaf-at-freddys]

So.... Ishmael character adaptations, huh?

[mikakuna]

the way that nobody noticing, for who knows how many years, that jason broke out of his coffin implies that jason's grave was rarely, if at all, visited, and when it was, nobody in that family of brilliant detectives stayed long enough to notice something was off

[that1emowitch]

Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.

Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.

WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?

(And I love it <3)

A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.

(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)

Word Count: 2328

Jason wants to scream.

Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.

But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).

Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".

Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.

Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.

Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.

Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"

Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.

Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...

"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.

Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.

He can't just leave him there, can he?

Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)

Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.

They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”

“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.

Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.

Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.

“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.

Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide. 

In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.

Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.

Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.

Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…

Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”

Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.

It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.

Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.

Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”

Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.

“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”

“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.

“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.

He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.

He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.

Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.

“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.

He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.

“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister. 

That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”

Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”

Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.

Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.

“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.

Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”

The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.

Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.

“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.

“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”

Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”

“Yeah, duh, that���s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”

“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.

“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands. 

“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”

That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”

Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?

He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.

“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.

“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.

“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)

The man whines, and immediately obliges.

“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.

“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.

The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”

Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”

“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.

That, or he's delusional.

“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.

“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”

“Black's a very, very pretty color.”

Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”

“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.

“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”

“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.

Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”

Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”

“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave. 

He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”

Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.

“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”

“Mhm. Kay.”

“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.

Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.

Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”

A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”

“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.

[BONUS!!!]

Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.

“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.

“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”

His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.

“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”

[lexithwrites]

I beg people stop writing Regulus being mean to James for absolutely no reason and James just letting it happen. Banter is one thing but having Regulus call him stupid and act like he hates him and insulting him 24/7 with an attitude because he just ‘can’t deal with his feelings’ is weird af,,,,why do you want a character to think his love interest hates him?

[junespriince]

Little Chickadee meet little Sparkle au

8yo Dick, picks up 3yo Wally: so this baby kid flash?

Barry: yeah, this is apparently him at three years old according to Iris.

Dick, looks at the tiny boy in his arms: and his dad hated him!? Adults are useless.

Bruce, sighed: can't wait for Constantine and zatanna to fix this... Alfred where's the leash? *Leaves*

Dick, gives Barry, Wally back: I will make sure nobody hurts him again.

Barry: aw, that's so sweet of you.

A few hours later

Bruce: I told you to watch him, how could you let him get away!?

Barry: he said he went to the bathroom, how was i supposed to know he would leave, the time I knew him he listened in Central!

Wally, fussy because people are yelling:

Bruce: where could he have gone to, all his usual hits are protected.

Barry: ... Oh my god, OH MY GOD HE'S AFTER RUDY!

Bruce: Rudy?

Barry, grabbing his things: Wally's shitty bio dad, he read Canary's file on Wally and asked me questions.

Bruce: AND YOU GAVE THEM TO HIM, FREELY!?

Barry: I'm sorry I forgot he was blood thirsty as a child, okay!

Jason, holding a now crying Wally: hush it dipshits, and he's like eight how far on foot could he have gone.

Tim: he knows about the zeta tubes.

Jason: oooo, yeah that mother fucker dead dead.

Cass: I also saw him grabbed Barry's phone and called up Iris.

Barry: SHIT MY WIFE GONNA GO TO PRISON! I GOTTA GO!

[ghost-bxrd]

Jason “my dad actually has a lot of siblings so I have some cousins I didn’t know about in star city I’m gonna meet :D”

Every single batfam member:

[erinwantstowrite]

Opinions on Jason Todd being the multiversal equivalent to Uncle Ben 👀

i see the appeal, but i don't like it personally. they're just two fundamentally different characters now that i can't equivalate them with each other. maybe i could see the tie in with the both of them dying tragically? furthering the plot for another character? but at the same time, that'd make universal equivalents for millions of characters