#i do enjoy jason acting feral i do.

[luv-lock]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ɢ ʟ ᴏ ᴠ ᴇ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Robins x Fem Reader

Headcanon: How would they be as your boyfriend?

Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Dick Grayson   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Affection Overload: Dick is all about physical affection. Hugs, kisses, holding hands—he’s constantly touching you. If you’re in public, expect him to have an arm around your waist or your hand in his at all times.

Grand Gestures: He loves making big romantic statements. Random flowers delivered to your class? Check. Swinging into your bedroom window just to say goodnight? Double check.

Jealousy Level: Surprisingly chill, but only because he’s confident. If someone flirts with you, he’ll swoop in with a smug smile and casually remind them that you’re his.

Protective Side: He’s sweet and easygoing most of the time, but the second he thinks you’re in danger, he turns into serious protector mode. He’s not above scaring people off if necessary.

Clingy but Cute: He hates being away from you. Even if you’re just apart for a day, he’ll text or call constantly. "Miss me yet? Because I miss you."

The Cheerleader Boyfriend: Dick is your biggest fan. Whether you’re pursuing a hobby, trying something new, or just having a bad day, he’s there hyping you up like, “You’re amazing, don’t forget that.”

Drama King: If you ever fight, expect him to show up at your door with flowers, chocolates, and the saddest puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. He cannot stand the idea of you being upset with him.

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Jason Todd   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Acts Tough but Is a Softie: Jason tries to play it cool, but deep down, he’s so soft for you. You’ll catch him staring at you like you hung the moon, and he’ll deny it every time.

Overprotective: Jason is feral when it comes to your safety. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, he’s ready to throw hands. “You okay, babe? Need me to deal with them?”

Big on Small Gestures: He’s not a grand-gesture kind of guy, but he’ll quietly leave your favorite snacks on your desk or slip a note into your bag that says, "Have a good day, idiot."

Jealousy Level: Off the charts. Jason tries to play it cool, but the second someone flirts with you, his hand is on your waist, and his glare is lethal.

Supportive but Real: Jason is your rock. He’ll always be there for you, but he’s not afraid to call you out if he thinks you’re being too hard on yourself. “Stop beating yourself up. You’re amazing. End of story.”

Loves Quiet Time Together: He’s happiest when it’s just the two of you curled up on the couch, watching movies or reading. Those moments mean the world to him.

Secretly Romantic: Jason pretends he’s not into cheesy romance, but he’ll randomly do something that makes your heart melt, like showing up with a book he thought you’d like or quoting poetry at the most unexpected times.

:¨ ·.· ¨:⠀ ㅤ Damian Wayne   ׅ      ♡ 𝄒!

Awkwardly Affectionate: Damian isn’t great at expressing his feelings verbally, so his affection comes in the form of small, thoughtful actions. He’ll make sure your tea is brewed perfectly or bring you handmade gifts.

Possessive but Polite: Damian hates sharing your attention. If someone flirts with you, he’ll politely (but firmly) remind them who you belong to. “I believe you’re wasting your time. She’s spoken for.”

Jealousy Level: High but controlled. Instead of losing his temper, he’ll subtly outshine whoever is trying to steal your attention. “Ah, yes, you’ve met my girlfriend. Isn’t she magnificent?”

Protective in a Subtle Way: He’s not loud about it, but Damian is always watching out for you. If someone wrongs you, he’ll handle it quietly and efficiently. “You’ll find they’re no longer a problem.”

Always Wants to Impress You: Damian is constantly trying to prove himself to you, whether it’s through his art, his fighting skills, or his intellect. He’s desperate for your approval, even if he pretends he’s not.

Secretly Vulnerable: Behind his confident exterior, Damian is terrified of losing you. He doesn’t know how to handle those emotions, so he’ll sometimes withdraw until you reassure him.

Over-the-Top Romantic in Private: When it’s just the two of you, Damian lets his walls down. He’ll read you poetry, kiss your hand, and whisper how much you mean to him.

How They’re Similar:

All of them are incredibly protective of you and hate seeing you hurt or upset.

They’re obsessed with making you happy and will go out of their way to ensure you feel loved.

Whether they’re soft and sweet or intense and dramatic, they all love you with their whole heart—and they’re not afraid to show it.

𝒍𝒖𝒗-𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 ☆ 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[fanfic-obsessed]

Smitten

I had this idea for a JayTim that I want to share. 

Obviously there is no canon here, for the record. 

In addition we have a version of Jack and Janet Drake that do love their son, they just have a really bad grasp on age appropriate supervision and activities. They honestly believe that a nine year old can be left alone with only a periodic check from a housekeeper (Also they are aware that Tim leaves the premises almost every night with a camera, they also believe this is a reasonable activity).  Like the very embodiment ‘they’re confused, but they got spirit’. Believe me when I say this will be relevant later.

We are also bringing Jason and Tim’s ages just a hair closer together. This starts with Jason being 14 and Tim being 13, at the annual holiday Wanye Gala. This particular time Jack, Janet, and Tim are in attendance. 

It starts with some boorish rich asshole, a little too drunk and being stupid about it, making an insulting comment about Janet Drake, heard by Tim. Now Tim loves his mother, and does not appreciate this man who insulted her. 

Thirteen year old Tim verbally eviscerates this man, his voice an icy even tone that everyone around recognized from Tim’s mother Janet. Tim’s diatribe of insults and threats leverages this man's secrets, his fears, and insecurities that he didn't even realize he had.  Ten minutes in, this man begins to cry. Just the complete, public, destruction of a middle aged rich drunk by a tiny thirteen year old.  The Drake family proceeds to exit after Tim winds down, never looking back (it was later in the evening anyway).

Jason, standing off to one side next to Dick, falls immediately and completely in love. Smitten through and through.  The first words out of his mouth, after the Drakes leave, is ‘We’re going to get married on that boy’s 18th birthday’.  This was heard by just about everyone present. Jason did not even know Tim’s name yet.

By the next morning Jason has used the BatComputer to discover that his future spouse is named Timothy Drake, he lives next door, and that he is 14 months younger than Jason.  At breakfast Jason very seriously, though a touch maniacally, tells Bruce that he would be marrying Tim when Tim turned 18, and that before that point they would be telling Tim about their ‘nightlife’ on the grounds that “we should not start our marriage off with secrets”. Jason magnanimously told Bruce that he had until Tim was 17 to get his feelings under control about the reveal (to give a full year before the wedding, in case Tim needed an adjustment period or Jason needed to win him back).  

Bruce is already very tired. 

Jason finds any occasion to seek out Tim Drake, to get to know his future spouse (the entire time Jason Mantra-having gotten some good advice from Alfred about becoming friends with and maybe dating Tim before anything else-is ‘Don’t start talking about the wedding, don’t start talking about the wedding’). Also every piece of romantic knowledge/flirting knowledge that Jason has comes from the regency era/Victorian era romances he reads. 

Tim, for his part, believes that Jason (Tim’s Robin and crush) has figured out that Tim knows Robin’s identity and is trying to subtly figure out how much Tim knows and what he is going to do about it; but for some reason Jason is not asking directly and Tim is enjoying getting closer to the other boy, so he does not admit to what he knows. 

This leads to some painfully stilted conversations and weird interactions, but every so often both will forget to be awkward and it becomes clear, whenever they actually act naturally, that they are very well matched. 

To the Gotham Elites, this is the best entertainment in years. Between Bruce Wayne’s ‘Brucie’ act and Dick’s feral behavior growing up, Jason’s bookish politeness makes him the ‘best behaved’ Wayne and honestly the most well liked one. Combined that with how sweet he is acting with Tim and  that this all started with Tim defending his mother, well this is the love story of the ages, happening right in front of them. 

Bruce and the Drakes are already fielding requests for invitations to the wedding. On a slightly more creepy note they are also receiving offers to be a surrogate for the boy’s to ‘continue the bloodline’ when the time comes. 

Bruce is honestly wondering if everyone forgot that Jason is adopted. Dick comes to Gotham more often, because he is also finding this immensely entertaining. 

A few months in, this leads to Batman, Nightwing, and Robin finding Tim taking pictures on a rooftop in the Bowery.  In Tim’s rush to apologize (he is starting to feel a bit guilty about his picture taking pictures of the Bats now that he has an actual relationship-where he believes that they know he knows who they are-instead of a parasocial relationship) it becomes clear that Tim knows their civilian identities and that they did not know that Tim knew their civilian identities. 

Tim gives his explanation (a quadruple flip that only a few people in the world can do and connecting the dots from there). Jason immediately blurts out ‘Go on a date with me?’ and is quite proud that he kept the ‘Marry me?’ behind his teeth (The earliest they could get married in New Jersey is 17, and only with parental consent. Jason had 4 years to convince the Drakes to let him marry their son, 5 if they don’t like him). Tim turns bright red and squeaks out a ‘Yes’. 

The next gala they enter holding hands.  Dick is quickly sought after by the Elite for gossip. Dick confirms that Tim and Jason are now dating, and that Jason insisted on a chaperone for their dates (Jason is still working off the regency/victorian era romantic relationships) so that nothing would ‘besmirch Tim’s honor’.  There is an entire crowd of cooing Gothamites around Dick as they discuss how these two got even more adorable, all the while watching Jason and Tim surreptitiously. 

At some point Bruce has to have a very surreal conversation with Jack and Janet Drake about when it is appropriate to leave one's children alone and for how long and at what ages. Jack and Janet, upon being convinced that they should not leave their 13 year old alone for weeks or months at a time, rearrange their future plans so that one of them is almost always home (and on the few occasions that they would have to Tim by himself, Tim would stay with the Waynes).

By the way, Jack and Janet love Jason, they can see how much he makes their son happy and are glad to support the relationship.  

Now I see this continuing one of two ways. 

The first way is that this derails Ethiopia. Jason still fights with Batman, but runs to Janet Drake (who is home) and Tim.  He does not discover that Catherine is not his mother until later, but is not missing parental influences and does some digging but does not go to meet Sheila. Tim becomes Oracle’s apprentice.

Alternately, it does not derail Ethiopia. Janet and Jack, on one of the few business trips that required both of them, is woken up by a call from an inconsolable Tim who tells them Jason has been killed by the Joker (both Jack and Janet having been let in on the secret at some point). Janet immediately hires Deathstroke and Talia Al Ghul to kill the Joker (Janet contemplated having them bring the Joker to her, so she could do it and make sure he understood why-he killed her future son in law and made her son cry- but realized that the why would never actually matter to Joker) and paid extra to make it look like natural causes (to lessen the attention on the bastard).  Two weeks after Jason Todd’s funeral, the Joker dropped dead of an apparent heart attack, there was not even enough time to get him back in Arkham. 

The Gotham Elite treat Tim like a bereaved widow, despite Jason never getting to have the ‘let’s get married when we are old enough’ talk with him. Jack Drake gets to have his own surreal talk with Bruce Wayne about accepting help, and therapy, after Jason’s death.  Tim picks up the Robin mantle to feel closer to Jason, and to distract himself from grief. 

Jason (Now 17) is brought back and Talia does find him. In this she does have good intentions (She knows that Damian is going to need to be sent to his father eventually, and hopes that helping Jason will endear Talia to Bruce enough that she can still see her son), plus a connection to Janet Drake and the knowledge that Janet had the Joker killed for Jason. So as soon as Jason’s madness ebbs enough to travel she brings him straight to Janet Drake's door. By then enough time has passed that it is three days before Tim’s 17th birthday.   

Jante takes one look at Jason and goes ‘Hmm, I was wondering what we were getting Tim for his birthday this year’.

[mtcloudsworld]

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 | +18, mdni, black!fem reader, boyfriend! JasonTodd, backshots, saying I love you for the first time, pet names: baby, edited but in case of any errors, ignore please and ty <333. Enjoy!!

⏜︵♡︵⏜ ︵୨୧︵ ⏜︵♡︵⏜ ⏜︵♡︵⏜

"Oh, baby~"

You were breathless and out of your fucking mind.

You couldn't say much but his name as you were getting fucked from the back with your mouth gaped open for your next door neighbors to hear and endure.

You were feeling so much all at once, and for the very first time you were unsure of what to do with these... emotions.

Neither did he.

One moment you two were at the gala, dressed sexy as hell and smelling like VS seductive love perfume.

Shit, you had him hooked.

It was one of those nights where neither of you could take your eyes off each other. Never leaving each other's side. His hands never letting you go.

He was watching your every move, and you? You were...feeling hot and bothered. Feral, even.

With every touch, the feeling of his callused yet soft hands along your exposed thigh or arm left this burning sensation to linger along your skin.

And sure you could blame it on your ovulation and mother nature but gotdamn were you feeling so much all at once.

It was like you were in fucking heat.

You had to keep excusing yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.

But one thing led to another and here y'all were fucking passionately and sensually in his dimly lit bedroom.

The night was late and the moon was shining through his curtains. The city was quiet for once and the only sound heard was heavy breathing, moaning, whining and groaning filling the room with the constant banging from the headboard against the wall.

Jason wasn't sure what this was.

He wasn't sure why both of you were acting so needy and clingy with each other, as if either of you hadn't fucked in ages.

But it felt like that.

It felt like two distant lovers reconnecting after not seeing each other for a while and suddenly get hit with those same exact emotions they felt back in high school.

It was like...reality hit him like a truck and for the very first time he wasn't sure what to do.

These emotions...you were feeling, left you nervous, scared and uncertain

Considering his past and what he had gone through, you didn't want to be the next person to ruin what he's been longing for. Closure, security, loyalty and trust. You checked every box off his list, though.

So why were you hesitating? Why were you scaring yourself from saying those three little (BIG) words?

The moment it started festering in the pit of your stomach, you tried not to give in, holding back and running away from him.

But he didn't want that. He wanted you to feel every part of his soul, pushing forwarf on you locking you in till there was no room for you to move. His dominance loomed over you like a cloud, his hands effortlessly controlling and molding your body the way he wants, and once he had you in a more vulnerable and open position, your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your moans...they sounded different, intense and elated, like you were finally giving in and throwing in the towel. Admitting what had been hitting you like a ton of bricks.

"J-jay, I love you" You'd whimper-coo.

And at first it didn't register with him what you said.

It didn't hit him but a few seconds late when his movements started to slow down, his grip along your waist softened and he was staring at the back of your head in a daze with a frown along his face...

What?

Did she just say what I think she just said?

No...heh...there was no possible way.

You couldn't have said that, no not to him. That can't be right...

But it was right.

Deep down inside he knew it was right. It was for the right person at the right time.

He's known for awhile actually.

He's seen it before. Many times. The way you look at him, how your body naturally responds to him, physically, emotionally and mentally. Your spirits were kindred and you were completely attached and obsessed, just like he was.

But he knew you were just too shy to say it.

And in an intimate setting like this, it caught him off guard.

Although his thrusts were deliberately slow, watching as your arousal coated his dick with a glossy shine.

In your mind, you thought you had fucked up. You thought you had fucked up everything and now he was gonna tell you off, tell you that he wasn't ready and just become distant.

...I beg to differ.

This man...

There was a smile, as wide as the crescent moon, from ear to ear, it grew on his scarred face.

Part of him was amused and charmed, the other was going insane.

And then... his pace starts to increase. Your lips were parted and eyes glossy as you feel his hand come around your neck, fingers gripping your jaw to hear your moans eradicate every negative energy and thought from you.

He was looming over you dangerously like the Eiffel tower, his hand gripping the sheets along side yours, muscles rippling as he dipped his head low to kiss where your pulse beated. They ventured near your ear, listening to those soft sweet whimpers and moans as you feel his hips buck up against you relentlessly.

He utters through grunts, "say it again."

His thrusts were in mean patterns, deep strokes, rhythmic and on beat with the headboard. Your brows were knitted in concentration, gasping for air, as you couldn't seem to catch your breath, unable to control the pathetic sounds from your voice box, your nails clawed at the sheets as you pushed yourself up against him.

"Say it again, baby please." He begs between moans, "please, I wanna hear you say it loud and clear, moan it for everyone to hear."

"I..." Your eyes began to flicker, tears rolling on the sides of your face. You feel his pink tip press into your cervix with quick precision, angling himself so you could feel every inch of his dick, deep inside your soaking pussy. His dick was twitching in anticipation. Waiting to hear those same words you were whimpering a moaning a few minutes ago.

"I..I love... you."

He could've sworn he felt you clench around him.

He chuckles with a wide grin on his face.

Somewhere deep down in that chaotic mind of his, he was just getting more turned on by those sweet beautiful words. Coming from you it was special and satisfied his entire being.

Aside from your touch, hug, kisses, gifts and affection, I love you was the only thing that made him fall deeper. Stimulate him, excite him, sexually arouse him to the utmost

And after countless rounds of him rocking your gotdamn world, giving you the most sloppiest yet thirst quenching, heart wrenching fuck of your life, all was quiet.

Both of you were laid on your side, face to face, in closure and in warmth with his hand drawing circles on your back, feeling the soft texture of your golden bronze skin, curls brushing along his knuckles and the duvet draped over your lower body.

You both hadn't said much after, just enjoying the aftercare of being in each other's presence a little more.

And when you thought you had messed up everything, he reassured you with those same three heartfelt words.

"I love you."

You looked at him in shock.

His heart shaped irises welcomed you with genuine, pure love from the depths of his soul.

To him, you were his prize possession, meaning, nothing was gonna keep him away from you, keep him from coming back to you.

You were his, he was yours, permanently.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈���𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃

𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 ©𝐦𝐭𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[sanguineterrain]

your most recent jason fic has me in a bit of a chokehold and its bc you do so well with the dialogue and the banter!!

HONEYLOVE???#?*×& i need to be physically restrained (i appreciate your fics respectfully)

anyways, the fic has me thinking: imagine it's the same reader, but they know Jason's alive and they're back to being friends again (skipping over the drama of "YOU'RE ALIVE?!?" "yea lmao sorry ily tho") but there's this tension now. and since Jason's not working with a mask anymore (and he's slightly more vulnerable with r), it's him who gets flustered and it's r who does the flirting playful banter. maybe it ends with a kiss (˘ ³˘) ?

i'm such a sucker for a flustered Jason and there's something that tells me he gets really weak in the knees for someone he adores >:) anyways, you can always choose to write this or not but a very big, fat thank you if you do

the reaction pics are SO FUNNY i'm glad you enjoy this au <3

jason todd x gn!nocturne!reader. pt 3 of vigilante reader. this is basically reader just being feral over jason :> they speak for all of us, really. love confessions, tension, somewhat flustered jason, more sparring lols.

pt 1 / pt 2

****

Jason Todd is alive. Jason Todd is sitting two feet away, talking about a case.

You can't quite believe it. You went home two days ago and expected to wake up to the whole thing being a dream or the result of a Poison Ivy hallucinogen.

You can't stop staring at him. It's weird. You're being weird. But you can't help it.

Every time you see Jason, you want to look at him for as long as possible. You don't want to forget his face. This new face. Scarred and hardened, but still good. Still loved.

And, well. It's not like Jason's bad looking. Sure, you thought he was cute when you were teenagers. Resurrection makes the heart grow fonder, et cetera.

But now? Now, Jason makes your heart stupid. You can barely contain your desire. It's been two weeks since he revealed himself, and every time you see him, you have to dig your nails into your palms to keep yourself from showing him what he does to you.

Sometimes you think he sees right through you, but if he does, he never acts on it.

"—listening. Yo. Ground control to Major Tom. Are you with me?"

Jason waves a hand in front of you. You blink.

He's unmasked and in a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt and dark jeans—the most comfortable you've seen him, actually. His hair is still wet from his shower.

"Sorry," you say, suddenly zeroed in on the three droplets of water sliding down his neck. "I'm listening. Just looking at you."

"'Cause I'm so pretty?" Jason asks, batting his lashes.

You reach over without thinking. He freezes when you wipe the water off of his neck. Then you tuck a curl behind his ear.

"You should let me blow-dry your hair," you say, taking your time in dropping your hand. "It'll take ages to dry in this humidity."

Jason's eyes have gone wide. Pink splotches bloom on the apples of his cheeks.

"Uh." He swallows. You watch his throat bob. "Thanks. Maybe... next time."

"I'll steal Dick's. He's got the fancy sixteen setting one."

That makes Jason smile. "Hm. Some things never change."

His eyes crinkle at the corners. Fondness swells swiftly in your chest.

You stay like that for a moment, caught in each other's orbit.

Jason breaks it first, leaning away. "Right. You should probably get back to the Manor. Br–the others'll probably think I kidnapped ya."

You shrug. "I quit."

"What?"

"Bruce was getting on my last nerve. I can't work with someone like that."

Jason snorts. "Join the club. Look, I can't say I'm not thrilled that you're stickin' it to the old man. But if this is 'cause of me... I wouldn't be mad if you kept workin' with him. Honest. If that's what you wanna do, don't let me stop you."

"Jason." You rest your hand atop his. "I joined this life because of you. To honor you. You taught me how to help people, not Bruce. You taught me what it meant to be kind, to be a part of something bigger than myself."

To love, you don't say.

"I..." He shakes his head. "You became Nocturne for me?"

You close your eyes, then open them. You've cried so many times. You don't want to stay in your grief any longer. Not when he's right in front of you.

"When you died, I..." You take a deep breath. "Nocturne was something to ground me. I think Bruce recognized that. I think he knew how much you meant to me. He didn't have to take a chance on me, and I appreciate that he did. But I've realized that he doesn't know everything. Can't see what's right in front of him sometimes."

You squeeze Jason's wrist. He sighs.

"God, I'm sorry," he says.

"What're you sorry for, Jay? You came back. That's all I ever wanted."

Jason chews his cheek for a moment. Then he stands, chair scraping the floor.

"C'mon," he says.

You follow him to the living room. He moves the armchair, the couch, and rolls up the rug. He disappears down the hall and returns with two thick mats. He tosses them onto the floor.

"Uh..." you say. "What're you—"

"'M gonna show you what y'did wrong that night on the roof."

"Wow. Can't believe you're still single. Being reminded of my shitty combat skills gets me so hot."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Alright, smartass. Just 'cause you quit the Bats doesn't mean you won't go out there and keep helping people. I know you. The least I can do is pick up where Dickface left off in your training."

"The least you can do, huh? I think you just wanna pin me against the floor again," you say, smirking.

He clears his throat. "That—no."

"No?" You step closer and look at him through your lashes. You're so close, you're touching his chest. "What happened to tying me up 'cause I was out when I shouldn't have been? Isn't that another educational technique?"

Jason's throat bobs. "That wasn't—I was just saying things."

"Hm. That's too bad."

You skip right past him, onto the mat, and hold out your arms.

"Okay. Put the moves on me, J.P."

It takes Jason a moment to craft his usual poker face. When he does, he groans. "'M not an evil Gilded Age financier. Still don't like 'J.P.'"

"But you like me-ee," you sing-song.

He shrugs. "Sometimes. Until you give me a heart attack and run into a burning building."

"Wish I could've seen your face for that one," you say as you steel your shoulders and secure your feet.

"Better you didn't. I'm sure there was a vein or two popping outta my forehead." Jason cracks his neck. "Ready?"

"Lay it on me, big guy."

"You first. Attack me like you normally would."

So you do. You step forward and throw a punch similar to the one from your rooftop spar. Jason catches it, of course. But this time, he locks you in a hold. One leg is between yours, and your arms are twisted behind your back with one hand. Humiliating.

"Dude!" You wiggle. Jason doesn't yield. "Jay, come on. No petty criminal is gonna know how to do all that."

"I know. The point of this is for you to know how to use someone's size against them."

Jason presses his cheek against yours. You tamp down your shiver. You can hear his heartbeat.

"Take a breath," he murmurs.

You close your eyes and breathe. Jason's grip doesn't hurt, but you're frustrated by how predictable you are. How he knows your body. A part of you is missing in not knowing him the way he knows you.

"Alright," he says. "Think. What part of me is exposed?"

"Not the important parts, I hope."

You can feel his eyeroll.

"You're hilarious. C'mon, focus. What can you attack?"

"Um... your legs. You trapped my arms, but my and your legs are free."

"Good." The praise warms you. Being this close to Jason will never get old. "What else?"

"What else? Do you have a tail I don't know about?"

"Sucha wiseass," he says, mouth close to your ear. "Your head. You're still able to move your head, and you're close to my face."

"Yeah, I'm not headbutting you. Out of the kindness of my heart."

"I appreciate that, sweets. Sweep my leg."

So you do. Jason goes down easier than he normally would for your benefit.

"'Kay," he says, once again underneath you. Now you have his hands pinned. "Good. Remember what went wrong last time?"

"You bucked me off like a Clydesdale."

He smiles. "Yeah, okay. So what'll you do different?"

"I'm not in my suit," you say. "I don't have extra weight in my boots."

"No, but you don't need it if you keep my legs apart."

"So that was your plan all along, huh? Perv."

Jason coughs. "Ah-hum... I—c'mon, lock my legs."

You grin and spread Jason's legs, using your knees to keep him immobile.

And then you just stare. This time, it's not because you're thinking about the miracle of resurrection (though what a miracle it is). No, you're just thinking, once again, about how your best friend got really, stupidly pretty.

And how you really, stupidly wanna kiss him.

Jason still looks young, but his jaw is now defined. He's got a five o'clock shadow coming on. His lips are full and pink. Freckles dot his cheeks and nose. The nose that still has a bump from when he broke it during a fight with Riddler.

You remember how he played it off for weeks. Bruce said that didn't even cry. But when you asked if it hurt, Jason had said yes.

You wonder when the last time Jason cried was. You wonder how much pain he's suffered since.

You wonder if he knows he's got your heart in the palm of his hand.

"Hey," Jason says. His voice is soft. Shy. "I lose ya again?"

You shake your head. "No. Never."

"There somethin' on my face?"

"You're a lot to look at," you say. "Pretty, pretty boy."

That gets an undeniable reaction. Jason Todd has never been able to take a compliment. You've been exploiting that all day.

Perhaps you know him better than you thought.

He exhales sharply, like you've sucker-punched him. His eyes dart to you. Waiting.

"Your eyes are green," you say. "Like, mixed. Blue and green."

Jason nods. "I—yeah. The Pit. Changed 'em. Changed me."

You lean in. His gaze flicks to your mouth. You watch his Adam's apple bob in a hard swallow.

"They're still pretty," you say. "Always had pretty eyes, Jaybird."

"Heh, right. Even with this shit?" He points to the scar that crosses over his right eye, stopping at his lip.

You let go of his wrists—not that you were holding them that tightly anyway. If this were a real fight, you would've lost ten times over already. Considering how much of you is touching Jason, you happen to be winning hard.

You trace the puckered white flesh with your thumb. Jason flinches but doesn't pull away.

"Your face could never turn me away," you say. "Never."

He closes his eyes and shudders. "Y'too nice to me. Always so nice t'me. Even when we were fighting. Why're ya so good?"

Your lips are a hair from his now. "I don't know how to make it more obvious, Jaybird. I'm absolutely insane about you."

Jason's eyes fly open. He sees your mouth and his breathing increases. You smile.

"Yeah, want you bad. No place I wouldn't follow you. Do anything for you."

Jason makes a strangled noise in his throat. You grin.

"C'mon, big guy. I'm right here. Come have me, Jay. I'm yours."

Jason soars up and kisses you. Swallows you, really. His hands hold your waist for dear life. You wrap one leg around his.

You nip his lip. Jason whines softly. Delicious.

You grab his face, fingers tangling in his curls. Jason sits up, slotting you against him. One hand supports you on your back, the other on your side.

"God—" He breaks away, just barely. "You're way too good for me. Had sucha... sucha crush on ya when we were kids. Y'so sweet."

You blindly find his throat and bite, hard enough to leave a mark. Jason makes a guh sound. You lick the bite to soothe it.

"Missed you," you say into his skin. "Missed you so goddamn bad, Jason."

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah," he babbles, clinging to you as you kiss up his neck. "Yeah, missed you too."

"Not letting you go," you say, almost snarling. You're angry with want, angry at the world for keeping this from you for so many years. "It's you and me now, Jay, mkay? Gonna be mine?"

"Always been yours," he says, panting. Jason finds your lips again. The kiss is messy, uncoordinated. Full of love. "No one but you."

You haven't fallen behind. You're starting anew.

"Never been anybody but you."

[gay-dorito-dust]

In a part of Gotham, there stands the glorious Wayne Manor. So marvelous, so fantastic, so peaceful-

Isekai Reader: AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! GET YO DEMON SPAWN BITCH!

Bruce, drinking coffee while reading the newspaper: He doesn't mean any harm

Isekai Reader: YES HE DO! GET YO FUCKIN CHILD *currently clinging onto the chandelier*

Damian: Get down you foul wretched being, I'll show you what it means to take away the precious servant of BaBa

Isekai Reader: Its not my fault Alfred is fond of me!

Damian: Why you insolent!

Isekai Reader: AAAAAAHHHHHH!

....

Isekai Reader: Any of you notice the feral cat speaks like a victorian child?

Dick, looks at Damian who is talking with his Supe: Well now that you mention it

Jason: He does speak like one

Duke: why'd you call him a feral-*realizes* nevermind he truly acts like one

Later

Alfred: I take as you all enjoy it

Isekai Reader: Why yes, thank you Alfred I no longer feel famished

Jason: As do I, everything you cook taste exquisite

(Been at it for a while)

Damian, annoyed at the two: Stop this nonsense!

Dick to Duke: Why do I get the feeling those two are doing it on purpose

Cassandra: they are

Isekai! Reader/you: *mocking* doth mother know you weareth her drapes.

Damian: what are you on about buffoon?

Isekai! Reader/you: Shakespeare in the park? Anyways has talking like a kid your age ever crossed your mind or are you above that too?

Damian: *unsheathed sword*

Isekai! Reader/you: you know what I think I hear Alfred call for me. IM COMING ALFRED! *runs away*

…

Isekai! Reader/you: is the place haunted?

Duke: haunted? No I don’t think so.

Dick: I think we’d all would’ve known if that were the case…

Jason: why? What makes you think that?

Isekai reader/ you: I thought I saw something in my room, it was looking right at me. It was short, almost like a little kid- *realises* it was Damian wasn’t it?

Jason: yes

Dick: yes

Duke: unfortunately yes.

Damian: *appearing out of nowhere* it was me, took you long enough to figure it out and here I thought adults your age should have a fully developed brain by now.

Isekai! Reader/ you: *lunges for the fucking kid* COME HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT!

Dick, Jason and Duke: *holding isekai! Reader/ you back before things get ugly*

…

Damian: *shrugs* father and Alfred should’ve left you out on the street where you belonged.

Isekai! Reader/ you: -*smug* but they didn’t!

…

Bruce: play nice with Damian

Isekai! Reader/ you: I want you to listen to yourself as you say that again. There’s no way in fucking hell am I playing nice with that gremlin.

…

Bruce: *to you and Damian* try not to kill each other while I’m gone.

You: oh please we’re not children *side eyes Damian* at least not some of us.

Damian: *mutters out the side of his mouth* funny coming from you.

*Bruce leaves*

You: eat shit and die

Damian: yes fuck you.

[colorfullyminded]

Talking with a friend about Hunter!Wirt (Pinescone Addition)

@vacz told me to tag them, so here we go. These are some of the more innocent things we talked about-- thank you @xovera-toz for listening to my rambles as usual.

• Not gonna lie-- Dipper matches his freak. Like that boy is curious, pen at the ready, new journal to jot down all the data about Hunter!Wirt and the unknown. Wirt is a little flattered to be the sole subject of a journal, and tends to find himself curled up near Dipper, looking over his shoulder, or head in lap as Dipper writes his daily findings.

•Some of the things Dipper has noted. "Has a habit of Biting. Painful, but also followed by apology licking/grooming. I'm embarrassed to admit I enjoy this more than I should" "Is possessive-- but I once put a hit on a man, so I'm not one to talk" This one was directly from @xovera-toz: Wirt's nonexistent tail wagging because he saw Dipper writing "affectionate" in his journal page

"Watership Down/Monty Python Bunny. Looks innocent/is feral underneath... but also Looks Dangerous/Is Shy and Sweet underneath."

"He's a Freak :heartpulse: :heart: :two_hearts:"

"Very nice to snuggle With-- though tends to not let me leave once he's comfortable" "Scared of abandonment and rejection. Will take a lot of time and patience and trust to work through-- I have my Work cut out for me." "Has threatened to disembowel me if I leave...turned it in my favor (No I will not elaborate) ^((A/N: I can actually elaborate-- but it's a little more mature))

• In most of my Pinescone, my Ford has beef with Wirt for no other reason that it makes me laugh, and Ford being overly suspicious of Wirt (cause my Wirt can be a bit of a sneaky bun bun), as well a critical because he just wants the best for Dipper (even though Wirt is the best. It's a long process of Ford warming up to Wirt-- the way Ford acts around Wirt, is the way Wirt acts around Jason Funderberker). But in this au, now Hunter!Wirt is more dangerous-- more deranged. A lot more aggressive, and it's openly on his sleeve. He actually can hurt Dipper (and has in his excitement/affection). Ford: How could you date something so unstable!? What could be possibly going through your head! Where did this come from? Dipper: (looking at Ford, knowing this man dated Bill Cipher) ...Gee, I wonder....

• Despite sometimes the uncertainty, or stability of Wirt, Dipper can also see underneath he's just a scared boy, desperately trying to be a good brother-- and you know Dipper has a soft spot for good sibling figures. Even though he's aware Greg isn't in the lantern-- he plays along. Example: Wirt waking up and finding Dipper reading to 'Greg' He was only supposed to nap-- he didnt want to be weak and vulnerable-- didn't want to leave his back turned. He woke up frazzled, and panicked-- turning to look for Dipper, expecting him to be gone, or trying to kill him in his sleep. Instead he finds Dipper reading to 'Greg', showing the lantern his journal as he talks about all he's uncovered about his brother.

• Dipper braids Wirt's hair like he learned how to do with Mabel, sometimes putting flowers in it, as he whispers praises and gentle words of comfort. (Mabel has also done a few different hairdo's with Wirt's long mane-- Wirt often feels like a small dog getting fluffed up in those moments, whereas with Dipper it's a little more relaxing with someone who matches his anxiety).

• The both aren't the biggest fans of baths, but they work through it together, Dipper often guiding Wirt into the bath, and usually distracting each other, by talking for hours. They both end up a little prune-y, and a little cleaner-- even if the water is a bit swampy when they get out.

• ((Slightly more suggestive for older Pinescone)): Hunter!Wirt: W-what if I lose control? What if I bite you? What if I I tear you apart in a frenzy? Dipper: ...promise? Hunter!Wirt: !!!! ??? (Not sure how to feel about that reaction)

• Housewife Dipper helping to make this cabin a home, as he softly studies Wirt and the unknown, while balancing the usual ups and downs that comes with his field of intrigue. He's a lot like Jane from Disney's Tarzan. Fascinated-- a bit afraid, but more willing to learn and understand. And the more he does- the more endeared he becomes.

((And those are some of the ideas-- I haven't even gotten into the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde au portion, but let me know if you want to hear more?))

I'm a little flustered after everything-- I hope you enjoy >///<

[op-sys-chaos]

Inspired by a post by @snakeredbirdbatkatana

Tim couldn’t believe it. He’d been left behind. AGAIN.

His siblings really should’ve learned their lesson at this point. But no, they were too busy paying attention to themselves to think about Tim.

Dick had been exposed to the Morality Virus first. It removed your morality, leaving nothing but emptiness behind. He wouldn’t be held back anymore - now, he could do things like kill the Joker and avenge his brother without guilt. (It also gave you a general disdain for human life, which was a problem, but Dick could manage it. It would be fine. Right?) He was quick to infect Jason, thinking he’d enjoy the freedom. He infected Damian after, knowing Damian would enjoy being able to give into his more feral instincts.

Dick didn’t go after Cass, Duke, or Steph. Cass chose not to kill because she couldn’t stand watching people die, not with her ability. It had nothing to do with morals for her, so there was no point. Duke was too new for the family to know how he’d react to something like this. And Steph had actively chosen to reject her villain father and become a vigilante, partially because of a grudge and partially because of the adrenaline rush of vigilantism. She’s probably just pick being a hero anyway.

So obviously, Dick would go for Tim next, right?

No!

No, he started branching out to heroes outside of Gotham!

Unbelievable.

Tim hacked Dick’s computer, only to see his analysis:

Tim looks up to Bruce too much and would keep following him. Besides, he has a strong sense of morality, and would likely keep operating under it out of habit.

Did Dick really not know Tim that well? How little did his brother care about him to not notice?

Tim followed Bruce’s moral code because he didn’t have one of his own originally. He was very detached from normalcy and therefore morality as a kid. He took up Bruce’s code, following his example (not his words, mind you) down to the last detail, including being willing to leave bad people for dead if needed. But it wasn’t because he looked up to Bruce. It was because Bruce had a strong moral code and therefore was a good person to model his own after. It was convenient and reliable. Not some stupid hero worship bullshit.

Tim was so incredibly offended that his brothers cared so little that they couldn’t even tell this basic thing.

Cass noticed, of course. She read Dick’s note over Tim’s shoulder and gave him a hug.

“He doesn’t get it,” she said. “He can’t imagine why you would do be like this otherwise. He won’t consider other options.”

“He’s just… excluding me. Because he doesn’t understand me. How stupid. Everyone else had thought out reasons for exclusion, and he only wants to turn people who will kill because the virus is driving him to turn as many people as possible to create lots of killers, so those exclusions had valid reasonings. But me? Hero worship?”

“Honestly, I feel like this is a good thing to be excluded from,” Steph commented as she walked in.

“You don’t get it, Steph. It’s not that I want to be dosed-“

“You want to be seen. I get it, Tim. And I see you, but I know you want your whole family to be able to see you.”

Tim nodded.

“So how do you get them to see you, and how do you save them?” she prompted.

“…I get myself infected,” he whispered. “Act like I’m on his side. And deliver the antidote when I’m close.”

“Exactly. Can you do it?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“He will,” Cass chimed in confidently.

And that’s how, a week later, Tim ended up breaking into Dick’s apartment, alone and unarmed.

“Dick.”

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to prove a fucking point.”

“And that is?” Dick asked with a frown.

“That you don’t know me half as well as you think,” Tim replied, grabbing a syringe of the virus and jabbing himself with it before Dick could stop him.

“What?” Dick asked in a whisper.

It felt strange, being hit with the virus. All it really did was make him feel cold for a moment, and give him the slight nagging sense that he should start killing people. But he easily shook the feeling off by reminding himself of the code.

“Pay better attention to your siblings, asshole.”

“I… Tim, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t have hero worship for Bruce. And I certainly don’t have a strong sense of morality. I never had morals, Dick. You think I would’ve stalked Batman if I did?”

“Well well well,” Jason said, walking into the room. “Pay up, Dick. Told you you were wrong about him.”

Tim almost jumped in surprise. Of his brothers he was definitely closest with Jason, but he hadn’t realized Jason would know him well enough to bet on this.

“But he…”

“Was raised without morals. It’s obvious. He doesn’t think about moral implications until he’s already 50 clones into trying to bring his clone bestie back.”

Dick choked out a cough. “What?”

“Yeah, not my finest moment,” Tim admitted. “I was not thinking about the ethical implications of cloning, I just missed my friend. Bruce’s code is a strong and simple road map. That’s all.”

“Amazingly, I actually respect you more for that,” Damian told Tim as he entered the room. “It takes a lot of willpower to follow a code that’s not your own.”

Perfect. All of them were here.

“Thanks, Damian.”

“You are welcome. I assume your presence here means you are on our side? We have planned our first escapade.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Lure all of the currently free rogues into one spot, then blow up the building. Immediately after, blow up Arkham. Civilian casualties will be a factor, of course, but a necessary one to rid the city of evil.”

Huh. Even with no morals, they were still heroic. Interesting.

“I can help with that,” Tim said, pulling a device out of his pocket.

“What’s that?” Jason asked.

All three came closer, and Tim pushed the small red button on top. Gas instantly exploded outwards, enveloping the room.

The sounds of coughing surrounded him, and he felt the curse of the virus wash off. He didn’t suddenly gain morals, of course, but his drive to kill was gone, which was a relief.

As the smoke cleared, Tim saw his brothers sitting on the floor.

“What the…” Dick started, before clapping a hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh god, was I really planning to…”

“Yeah,” Tim replied, standing up and leaving the apartment. “Next time, pay better attention to your siblings, asshat. You would’ve known that because I don’t have morality to follow, I would stick to saving you all and saving the city. I thought we were brothers, Dick. But you proved today that I’m just another face in the crowd to you.”

With those words, Tim left. Cass, who had been waiting outside in case it went wrong, gave him a quick hug, and the pair grappled off together.

“That was AWESOME,” Steph said over comms. “You kicked so much ass, Tim. They’ll think twice before dismissing you again.”

“I hope so,” Tim whispered. “I was honestly surprised that Jason at least partially knew that I would act that way.”

“Yeah, well, Dick will think twice about underestimating you again.”

And he did. When Dick came back to the cave that night, he sat down and had a conversation with Tim, telling him about his impressions of Tim and asking him to correct anything he got wrong. To Tim’s surprise, Dick actually saw a lot more than he expected. He even picked up on the fact that Tim’s first male crush had been Kon, even if Tim hadn’t admitted it even to himself. And Dick was the only person who’d ever told Tim that they had figured out that Tim had originally modeled his personality after a book character. Dick wasn’t wrong; Tim had no idea how to act normal as a kid, and modeled himself after his favorite character. His actions changed over time, becoming more natural and more his own, but they’d still originally been based on someone else. Dick had picked up on that, to Tim’s amazement.

It turned out, Dick actually knew Tim better than he ever realized his brother did. Dick just missed the morality piece because Tim had never wavered from the code and had always been so devoted to following Bruce’s code that Dick assumed it was hero worship of the first hero Tim knew.

They vowed to be more open about things in the future and to work on knowing each other better. And Dick vowed never to exclude Tim again unless someone else gave him a very, very good reason to do so (such as the “it’ll make him want to get involved if he knows and his involvement will make this worse” type of stuff typical in their line of duty).

[butcherlarry]

Weekly Fic Recs 71

Howdy, howdy everyone! I hope you all enjoy these fic recs :D

Stargazer by LemonadeGarden @lemonadegarden - Batfam, complete. Jason gets seriously injured and has to recuperate at the manor. While there, he makes a bucket list of all the things he wanted to do before he died the first time. Bruce finds it and a father-son bonding road trip ensues. I was also charmed by Damian, and his love of watching R rated movies :)

just a secret under lock and key until then by dio_icaurtica @dio-icarticaae - Superfam, complete. Superman gets hit by some silver kryptonite, acts a bit high, and spills some details of his secret identity. Nothing that lots of cuddling, snuggling, and purring with the whole Superfam can't take care of :)

Patchwork Pod by Ktkat9 @ktkat99 - Superbat, Batfam, Superfam, wip. More of the mer Bruce fic :) Some discussion about Damian's unconventional mer diet.

every cat has its day by pomeloquat @pomeloquat - Batfam, wip. An adorable fluffy fic about cat hybrid Bruce and all of his children :)

Star Tied by Imagine_sleeping - Superbat, wip. A Krypton lives AU where Kal-El is looking for his soulmate. His search leads him to Earth, specifically to Batman. Shenanigans ensue.

Fever Hot by TiniestGoblin @sing-a-sirensong - Superbat, complete. Bruce is sick and doesn't want to do bed rest. Clark comes up with a creative way to convince him.

I Need You Like The Moon Needs The Sun by TiniestGoblin - Superbat, complete. Takes place after Justice League movie. Bruce and Clark get to know each other and fall in love 💖

Mission: seducing Superman by Speechless_since_1998 @mylifeisfruk4ever - Superbat, wip. More of Battinson trying to seduce Superman (and succeeding!).

The Coming of the Season by SalParadiseLost @salparadiselost - Batfam, complete. Omegaverse and teenage parent Bruce! Bruce had his first child, Dick, young, and his next two children, Jason and Tim, in his twenties. Featuring, divorcees Bruce and Harvey, feral Alpha Tim, and omegaverse worldbuilding that I go feral over.

business time by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Clark uses terrible euphemisms for sex when talking (and fucking) Bruce. It's a problem. Oh god, I about died laughing while reading the office sex scene 😆

Happy reading!

[bluegarners]

Which one do you dislike more? Himbo adult Dick Grayson or Tiny angry baby Dick Grayson?

oh hmm, good question anon

the thing is is that i can appreciate the pros and cons of both. i like it when dick grayson, this big, lean, athletic looking man has kind, humble eyes and an easy smile and a "devil may care, im just here to have a good time" attitude. it's sweet and i think it plays to his character well- but only as a general persona and not as his like "one true character" bit. he has facets, he has different faces he shows to certain people, and that doesnt make any one of them any more real or false than the other. he's not going to bring the same level of intensity he might have with batman to a random civilian. he's not going to make silly mistakes and laugh at himself like he would with the titans in front of batman (well sometimes, but i think there's a difference in how he feels/acts around both that it can be percieved)

and i also like the abstract concept of a much younger, freshly traumatized dick grayson. it's a very compelling first look at his character, the first one anyone ever gets to see of him, including himself! i like the idea of this raw, potent, violent anger being something dick is also newly discovering. i like the idea of self-realization through anger and grief as a propelling force, not only between himself and bruce, but also how he chooses to act to and in the world from then on. it's a beautiful progression of horrible grief, aching, festering anger, and then a gradual evolution into someone who still feels things powerfully but can now decide how he wants to portray those feelings and how to act on them. it's especially compelling when he reverts back to that instinctual anger again when he's overwhelmed and stressed, something that doesn't happen frequently in his adult self

however.

if we are describing these qualities as flat "himbo adult" and "feral baby", then i would just never interact ever again because they are so lacking and so boring-- ive always wondered if people who genuinely enjoy such basic character interpretations even enjoy complexity and how that affects how they interact with people irl

but, ultimately, to answer your question anon, i dislike himbo adult dick grayson more. it infantilizes him so much and disregards his years of expertise, ability, and emotional growth to the point of making him an entirely different character. i honestly am not sure when this characterization of him got started or got popular because its so absurd and different from his real character. i get the feeling it was just another instance of people wanting to assign each of the bat-family members a certain role, and since "intelligent" was relegated to tim, "brute/strong" to jason, and then "feral" to damian, the only "personality" left over was cinnamon roll. eurgh

[qprstobin]

Oh Eddie 100% was meant to be the king of the underworld, another mirror for Steve. I think that they feel a lot of frustration over how Steve turned out, otherwise I don’t get why they keep making weird doubles for him (we have three! why do we need so much!). I think maybe Eddie is a starter character that they would have developed into a Steve later? Like a character who becomes the confidant for the kids (a very boring choice btw)

The only reason people make Eddie into a victim is to give him the higher ground so that Steve can feel insecure and ashamed, which is a kink for the majority of Steve shippers (like even with Billy which is weird that Steve is sometimes apologizing there too. like guys???? what??????). Canon Eddie is a feral stinky teenage boy. “Mr Cringefail Mr Attentionwhore” to Steve’s “Mr Funny Mr Cool”. Like in order to be the king of the losers and freaks you kinda sorta NEED TO ALSO BE ONE. Steddie are so funny together, like a satirical piece on Romeo and Juliet, whyyyy did people decide to focus on the bullying and victimhood. It doesn’t suit the characters at all

I miss canon Eddie so much, Quinn put so much work into the feral stinky aspect AND YET

I think they also keep trying to, like, recreate the hype they got with Steve accidentally. (Which to an extent they did in Eddie I guess but in a weird way.) But it's hard to do that kind of thing on purpose, you know?

I agree also that Eddie definitely was meant in his own way to be like "king of freaks" or something similar. I think the king titles get tiresome after a while but social hierarchy wise? Most definitely. Which honestly is so much fun! I don't know why people don't lean into it more in a fun way instead of making it angsty. The rivalry they may or may not have could be so incredibly funny but they also make it "oh no :((((( look how mean everyone was". Honestly everyone in this show is casually kinda mean, with a few exceptions (Billy, Troy & James, later Jason) thats all it seems to be, at least if the characters we're introduced to.

Honestly, I'm not sure a lot of these people are actually Steve fans 😭 they don't seem to like Steve very much??? Like Steve fans do enjoy some good whump - either emotional or physical (some of the fics my mutes have read.... Insanity) - and I can attest to that! But like there has to be some pay off for that which a lot of these fics don't seem to have. I'm not sure if people just aren't thinking things through or what.

Also I totally agree I ADORE canon Eddie. He's awkward and a little cringe, and probably is a huge flirt but is very, very bad at it. (Joe Q.'s comment that 'Eddie is never as successful with girls as he thinks he is' lives rent free in my head.) He's dramatic and probably a little gross (at the very least his van must always smell like weed). He is soooo ADHD coded to me, and honestly is just a hilarious outsider pov type character (a dude who thinks he is a freak and a weirdo and then finds out the priss the jock and the loner are all in an actual monster fighting club with his mentees, what's better than this).

I think also when people go too hard into the "he was bullied :(((" thing as opposed to how he actually comes across in canon, is that you lose that narrative foil that makes him so interesting in the first place. Firstly, the obvious Steve parallels, but also I think people miss out on the fact that all of the Spicy Six (minus Argyle 💔) are portrayed when they're first introduced as very much caught up in their own worlds and opinions. Steve is the one who everyone points out because he's definitely has the like biggest and most obvious re-evaluation. But Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin I would argue do too?

Nancy is much more concerned with her new boyfriend who isn't her boyfriend than anything else, very focused on rebelling. She's seen as someone who is uptight and a priss acting out. Barb's disappearance and death completely shakes her foundation, causes her to completely reprioritize her life and what's important.

Jonathan's isn't done in like a great way, because the resolution with the pictures was lazy as hell. But arguably he is going through the same foundation changing first with Will disappearing and then with the pictures. He even says that he saw Nancy as shallow and forgot she was a real person. Them working together is - as poorly done as it is - a similar journey.

Robin's is less on screen, but she goes through a similar thing with the others, overcoming dumb high school biases and befriending Steve. Though hers like I said starts off screen because you get the vibe she started liking Steve before the Russians thing happened.

Eddie is literally going through the same thing. He says himself that he thought Steve was an asshole and that both Steve and Nancy were forcing him to reevaluate his prior biases. A big part of the older crowds upside down journey has always been growing as a person and learning that there's more than meets the eye with others, and moving past stupid high school cliques and biases. The fact so much of fandom ignores that Eddie is also super biased and is also reevaluating his thoughts completely detracts from his character and growth. Like I know the duffers love doing the petty high school "jocks suck and nerds rule" thing, but that doesn't mean fandom has to lol. I feel like giving Eddie all these reasons to not just hate jocks but hate Steve specifically just kinda undermines part of the journey.

Anyway I got WAYYYY off track. Wkenedk this has just been in my head for a while

[forthesanityofstorytellers]

Character Aesthetic Deep Dive Tag!

Tagged by @mysticstarlightduck, you know the drill (also thanks!)

Quickly Tagging!

@bloodlessheirbyjacques @concealeddarkness13

@wordswrittenbynight @charlesjosephwrites

@ryns-ramblings

Alright, give the ol' OC wheel a spin:

Eyyyyy It's Thomas!!

Ok, so:

Moodboard:

Playlist:

Specifically:

A Beautiful Mess - Jason Mraz

Although you are biased I love your advice Your comebacks ‒ they're quick And probably have to do with your insecurities There's no shame in being crazy Depending on how you take these Words i'm paraphrasing this relationship we're staging

Through timeless words and priceless pictures We'll fly like birds not of this earth And tides ‒ they turn ‒ and hearts disfigure But that's no concern when we're wounded together And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts But it's nice today. Oh, the wait was so worth it

And two instrumentals:

Bad Summary:

Poor little gay country boy turns himself into prominent detective in the 1950s because he saw his future best friend acting like a feral ally cat and decided to adopt her

Got dragged onto wild adventures where he found out vampires are real, magic is real, sprites are real, and basically every fairy story he's ever heard and half a dozen of the ones he's never heard is probably real

Enjoys making tea and became self-appointed cook after Becks nearly raised the dead on accident and he banished her from the kitchen

[skyesdaisys]

my two reactions ^

oh my fucking god sunny, you have amazed me again with the angst of it all. also the love confession???? love it. it's giving everything. oh my god...... just *chefs kiss* you know how to cater to your audience (it's me. i'm the audience) and I knew it was worth it to vote for this fic

anyways.... time for details

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. -> me when i end up liking fucked up romances when i shouldn't

He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth -> he's not wrong. i am indeed the most annoying person on earth. and i would annoy him to no end :)

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.”  -> he would get socked in the face just for that and i would've been justified

But no. As always, you remained cool. -> oof, my biggest flaw: trying to be the bigger person (as someone who has multiple times, doesn't work btw but still, that's an entirely different story)

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.”  -> GET HIS ASS. GET HIMMMMM

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you. -> ah, sarcasm.... my love language (or just my second language in this situation)

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy. -> *is reminded that this doesn't end in a happy ending as the labels said* oh honey, you got a big storm coming

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you. -> you know... I deserved to see the regret on jason's face in the show when he realized that donna was telling the truth about gar being in trouble. also this is my jaygar shipping biased speaking a tiny bit and wanting more angst but yk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did. -> well, all he had to do is look like a pathetic wet cat with tears in his eyes and I would've folded but that's just me, personally

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. -> everytime crane calls him "my boy" I get the urge to break something like STOP PRETENDING YOU CARE ABOUT HIM YOU PIECE OF SHIT. ugh, he gets me so fucking angry

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him. -> I'm killing him. Like you are not his friend, stop acting like it

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.” -> everytime he speaks, I get the urge to wanna beat him to death with hammers

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?”  -> god fuck..... that hits ME where it hurts. hank's death still hurts me, i'm never over it. he deserved sm better

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. -> kisses are not always perfect. it's not "fireworks" type shit. sometimes it's like this. and if weren't for what was about to happen next, they would've fucked nasty, just to let it all out of their systems, I know it (and I support it)

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.”  -> crane..... you better sleep with one eye open, buddy, i swear to god. tragedy at its finest. i'm in pain in the best way possible

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.” -> KILLING HIM. KILLING HIM!!!!!!!!!

one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). -> I support this one here because I love revenge because I'm petty and bitter. And I'm someone whose played gta 4 more than once and chose the revenge ending EVERY TIME. so I support jason seeking revenge. I SUPPORT YOU KING. AVENGE ME.

Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next. -> as crane quoted from romeo and juliet, "these violent delights have violent ends" if one dies, yall die together. which reminds me the fosters musical episode which is based off of romeo and juliet, "This love could be great but they say it would be wrong I don't care I'd be lost without you" and I think that fits into this in a way

anyways sunny, this was amazing as always. a perfect 2023 fic closure and i can't wait to see more in 2024 (yall who see this better fucking read it istg)

Your First Kiss With Jason Todd

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

Jason always thought he hated you. He did hate you.

Until he didn't.

Until his love for you ruined him in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader. Frenemies to Lovers. Pure Angst (Hurt, No Comfort). Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 8,200

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic is almost entirely angst - hurt, no comfort. This fic does not have a happy ending!!! So be warned of that before you enter here. Jason and the reader are described as ‘hating’ each other, but they are more like frenemies/annoyances - they have a playful banter (at the time, even they don’t know that they like arguing because it’s sexual tension and passion for each other); the reader is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; this is mostly written from Jason’s POV (which is where most of the angst comes from); Jason describes himself as a ‘zombie’ or ‘half-alive’ - but he is fully alive and has all of his mental faculties, he is just freaked out about the fact that he was resurrected; the reader does not have any meta powers, but is described as being very good at combat (this does not denote the reader’s body type); mentions of sex and some sexual themes - but there is no outright smut and no detailed descriptions of sex; mentions of negative stereotypes surrounding frat boys/frat houses - including STDs and group sex (mentioned in a negative light); mentions of Jason masturbating (and thinking about the reader while doing it); mentions of Jason’s canon trauma (being kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, dropped off the building); mentions of Jason being killed by the Joker (and being ressurected by Crane); mentions of the reader mourning Jason’s death; mentions of drugs and drug addiction (based around the canon storyline of the anti-fear gas); mentions of Jason’s trauma surround his mother’s drug addiction; mentions of Jason killing Hank (as in the canon); the reader is kidnapped (by Crane or someone who works for Crane) and held hostage, and later rescued by Jason; somewhat graphic descriptions of violence (Jason beating up Crane, other background instances), gory descriptions of a death toward the end (mentions of acid burns and choking on non-breathable air); major character death - the reader character does die. Like I said - no happy ending. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: This is set during Season 3 - and this does feature spoilers for Season 3 if you haven't seen Titans before. So if you wanna watch the show spoiler free, definitely avoid this fic. I was imagining this to be set around episode 6 or episode 7, before Crane's plan to use the ice cream factory is taken down by the Titans, but obviously Jason breaking away from Crane's control so early goes against the canon - so there's that. Also, if you wanna pair some music with this for something truly heartbreaking, I would highly recommend the classic Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, or the highly underrated Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3 (the lyrics are way more depressing than people realize, and I love it as a whump song. oomf). I also feel like the song Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny would go so well with this fic, but in like - the most devastating way. I haven't written something this cruel since I wrote Ghosting and I had so much fun doing it. You can't leave me alone with whump for too long, I turn into a monster. I need to go back to smut again quickly lmao.

...

Jason Todd was in love with you. 

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. But it was true. You were someone who was so entirely amazing. You were beautiful - literally the hottest person Jason had ever met who wasn’t photoshopped or catered to be some unrealistic daydream. You were clever and smart and strong. You could kick anybody’s ass on any day of the week and still have enough energy left to tell them how much of an idiot they were and list all of the reasons why. 

And you would definitely never love Jason back. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could ever have someone like you. 

So he kept all of that stupid, idiotic love to himself. It was a secret that he had sworn to die with - and technically, he already had. 

Jason tried not to linger on the very fucked up, seemingly impossible fact that he had come back from the dead. And now he was existing as some weird, fucked up zombie thing - resurrected from having his skull caved in by the Joker to do Jonathan Crane’s bidding. This definitely wasn’t what Jason would have wanted out of a renewed life - but hey: when an Arkham prisoner gives you rotten lemons. 

When Jason wasn’t beating down drug dealers, stealing money, or strapping bombs to people - when he was trying his hardest not to focus on the fact that he had died and he was now living some strange half-life, reliant on Crane’s drugs, he was thinking about you. He thought about you a lot. 

He hadn’t come into contact with you since his strange foray back into the land of the living. That was probably for the best. He knew that you had freshly come back to Gotham, upon Dick’s request. Nightwing had called for backup from all the ex-Titans to help end Red Hood’s reign of terror. Jason wanted to stay as far away from you as possible. 

Genuinely, he didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Crane was planning. He wished you had stayed out of Gotham, but he knew that you were too loyal, too good not to come to the aid of the Titans when they needed you. He couldn’t reveal himself to you just for a taste of nostalgia - one last argument before you sold him down the river for good. But fuck - he thought about you a lot. 

When the two of you had first met, you were the last person he ever thought that he would surrender that stupid, soft label of love to. Even months into first knowing you - he would have said that he hated you. He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth. 

Your relationship used to be the worst kind of dance. 

Every single time that Jason opened his mouth, you said something to contradict him. To a point, he believed that you didn’t even fully stand behind the things you said - you just enjoyed arguing against him. That you did it for sport. You used every single last bit of your time and energy to get under his skin. From mocking him to calling him a fuckboy to prodding at his grammar, poking holes in his points by smugly correcting him. He always found you to be the most infuriating person in any room. But it seemed that the more frustrated he got with you, the more cool headed you remained. 

He tried to mock you back, and you shrugged it off. Every time he became visibly annoyed in your presence - you giggled. He wanted to strangle you. 

And it was one fated day that he realized the line between heat fueled by frustration and heat fueled by lust truly weren’t that different. 

… 

“Jason! I thought I smelled you coming down the hall!” 

Jason groaned when he heard you make this comment. 

He thought that for once, he could have some peace to train alone - but it appeared that he would have no such luck. You were already in the training room, holding a long bo-staff as you ran some drills. Apparently, you were eager to exercise your mouth too - already whipping off clever insults the minute that Jason entered the room. 

When all he could muster was a glare in your direction, you let out a giggle. His blood boiled. 

“Between that god awful Axe body wash and that alcohol based aftershave that you like to drown yourself in, you smell like a walking frat house.” You continued, blabbering on even though Jason had made no efforts to engage you. At least not yet. “Just throw in some Busch Light and weed, and I might be able to catch gonorrhea just from the stench.” 

That was the nerve that hooked Jason into the conversation. First of all - he smelled fucking delightful. He always made hygiene one of his personal priorities. He was absolutely not one of those guys with crusty, sweaty balls. And second of all - he was not one of those STD spreading manwhores. He was clean in all senses. He always used a condom. 

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jason quipped back. 

He looked to you for some kind of reaction, some inkling that he had gotten under your skin even a fraction of the way that you did his. His movements were rough with annoyance as he began wrapping his knuckles with tape so he could have a few rounds with the heavy bag - mostly out of a need to pound out his frustration on something. He was getting too angered with your presence in the room and not wanting to snap and take it out on you. (He already had enough on his record with Bruce, and despite popular opinion - he was trying to improve.) 

When you weren’t quick to respond, Jason continued. 

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.” 

Jason grinned, feeling like he had won this conversation with the essence of shock alone. 

But no. As always, you remained cool. You grinned right back at him, stepping toward him, crowding into his personal space as you said your next words in a low, smooth voice. 

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.” 

Jason’s face fell flat. 

You were so strikingly confident in your words that it made his stomach twist. Facing him down, speaking such filthy words without flinching - embarrassment and heat collided inside of him. Even more so with what you did next. 

You put a hand out in front of your crotch, mimicking the motions of jacking off while you mocked him in a broken voice. 

“Oh, oh fuck Y/N! Come on! Take my sloppy, frat house cock!” 

You then mocked a whiny series of moans that must have been Jason’s fake orgasm - and while Jason’s insides bubbled with a confusing heat, you quickly dissolved off into laughter. 

“Shut up.” Jason snapped, forcing his eyes down to focus on the process of taping himself up - praying that you wouldn’t see the heat that had spread across his cheeks. “You’re the fucking worst.” 

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you. 

He was eternally thankful when you went back to your own training in silence, only taking occasional glances up in his direction. 

… 

After that point, Jason had to admit to himself that he was attracted to you, at the very least. He could no longer deny that you were insanely attractive; you were a very, very hot person. And somehow, even past your annoying habits, he was being drawn into the orbit of your gorgeous looks and your wonderfully cocky, filthy mouth. 

But he still hated you. He definitely still hated you. 

He hated it even more when you became right - and you did become the object of some of his more heated fantasies. He became downright annoyed at the times he had his hand around his cock and imagined himself hate fucking you - imagined forcing every cocky retort out of your mouth, imagining you breathless and needy beneath him, begging for more with every hard push of his hips. 

He hated how everything changed after Doctor Light. 

Jason wasn’t thinking about your stupid beautiful cocky mouth after that. His mind was full of glass and he was being shredded from the inside out. He came home broken. After everything that happened with Deathstroke and Doctor Light - he was some fragile bird; some chewed up, used, pitiful thing. He didn’t have the energy to fight you anymore, not even for sport. 

So after he was rescued, still floating in numbness, he didn’t know what to do when you burst into his room unannounced. You practically shoved the door off its hinges, and stormed across the room toward him - tears hot in your eyes. You pounded curled fists against his chest, screaming at the top of your lungs. Half of your words were static in his ears, but the tone of your voice pierced through his heart like an arrow. You called him stupid, asking where in his empty head he had gotten the idea to go off by himself. 

Jason didn’t have it in him to fight you. So he broke down. 

He felt like the world’s biggest idiot for crying in front of you. But his throat was tight and he choked on the tears - he was too tired. He just couldn’t hold them back. He screamed back, and asked you to lay off. To get off his fucking back. 

You looked shocked. Like you had swallowed a piece of glass. 

You surprised him when you uncurled your fists and wrapped the most tender, gentle hands around his back, and for the first time since he had known you - you embraced him in a hug. He was weak and he needed it more than he was willing to admit, so he let you. He sobbed against your neck, his own cries too loud that he missed the timid sound of your apology. 

That wasn’t the only time you surprised him that week. 

He knew it was because he was some broken little bird, but you started taking care of him. You brought him plates of food without being asked, and when he attempted to shove them away - you refused. You told him to eat before you had to ‘shove it down his fucking throat’. 

You didn’t mock him. You didn’t correct him. And you surprised him even more when you turned the sharpness of your tongue on the others when they tried attacking Jason. They accused him of planting booze in Hank’s room or drawing crosses on Rachel’s mirror to fuck with her, among other things. And you popped veins in your neck going on a winding rant about how stupid and baseless their accusations were. 

Jason wasn’t sure if you knew it, but you jumping to his defense wrapped him in a blanket of protection that he had never before felt. It was so entirely strange, but welcomed coming from you. Especially because he knew that it was genuine. He knew that you didn’t have any ulterior motives for doing this - for some reason, you just wanted to help him. 

When you extended an invitation toward him to come with you as the group dispersed, torn apart by Dick’s nasty, festering secret - Jason felt welcomed by you. He knew that the dynamic between the two of you was changing at a breakneck speed, and he had to embrace it. He found himself eager to follow the weird, newly developing kinship that he had with you rather than wanting to stay in the empty coldness of the Tower with a brooding Dick. 

From there, it was really difficult for Jason to pin down the exact moment that his feelings transitioned toward you from casual lust to something more. He couldn’t tell exactly when it turned into that panic-inducing, ‘oh my god, I’m fucked’ feeling of being in love. After leaving San Francisco, during the entirety of the time that the two of you were in Gotham together, your relationship remained completely platonic. 

It was a few short weeks spent kicking ass as the best vigilante duo the city had ever seen, but there wasn’t a single moment Jason could point to where the two of you lit up with that romantic spark. It wasn’t some romcom bullshit come to life. It was just the two of you being friendly for once. The two of you helping each other survive. 

Back then - Jason wanted you, badly. Even if he didn’t know just how badly, he wasn’t going to fuck up the whole dynamic just to get laid. He felt safe with you. He kicked ass with you. He was good with you. And during that short time - he was happy. So he wasn’t going to do anything to risk that happiness. Happiness was too rare for him. So why the hell would he try putting the moves on you, scare you away, and fuck it all up? 

… 

A little slice of that happiness came in the form of Hal’s Diner. It was a place in downtown Gotham, open twenty four hours, and you and Jason had gotten into the habit of stopping there after your patrols. 

The two of you would kick some ass - break the legs of some drug dealers, make sure that women got home safe if they were walking late at night, keep the streets a little safer. And then you would change out of your patrol outfits and head to the diner, just as the sun was rising over the scummy streets of Gotham. You would get breakfast and Jason would get dinner. He would steal one of your eggs and you would take half his burger, and you would always comment about him putting way too much ketchup on his plate. 

It was harmony. 

“You know, every time I see you make a grown man cry, it brings me such intense joy.” Jason grinned as he said this, reminiscing about a beautiful moment from earlier in the night. 

He spoke about it in the same manner that someone might reminisce about seeing a relative or a cute puppy. But this was natural for the two of you - since you had taken up vigilantism as a duo, violence was a sweet art for the two of you. 

“Well, if he would have left that girl alone the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have broken his arm.” You shrugged, speaking very casually about it yourself. 

You then picked a piece of bacon up off your plate and took a bite, grinning at Jason fondly. You did appreciate it when he complimented your skills. 

Jason chuckled. 

“You know, it is nice to see you using your powers for good instead of evil.” He commented. 

“My powers?” You parroted back, your mouth half busy with chewing, your words slightly muffled. 

You didn’t have any metahuman powers, so this comment did leave you slightly confused. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, entirely confident in the statement he had to follow. “Your endless amount of energy to harass people and be endlessly annoying. The powers you used to spend all your time using on me.” 

“You used to deserve it.” You were quick with your tongue as usual, not missing a beat with this statement. 

Jason’s only rebuttal was to pick up a french fry - one not doused in ketchup - and throw it at your head. You flinched slightly when it bounced off your forehead - but when it landed in your lap, you easily picked it up and put it in your mouth, not thinking twice about doing so as you tossed Jason a wicked grin. 

That. That must have been the moment. 

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy. 

That’s why it hurt so much more when your phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. When you told him that it was the Titans - Gar in trouble. That’s why it hurt so fucking much when you left. 

Jason knew, in hindsight, that he should have gone with you. But he flailed like a rabbit caught in a snare, and rather than just agreeing with you, he felt the trap tightening around him, and he opted to chew off his own foot rather than simply letting you help him free. 

He stupidly argued that it was some test from Dick. That the Titans could deal with their own problems. Jason knew that deep down, he was still tender from everything that had happened - Dick dropping him, even by accident. The accusations, the secrets. The rejection. He felt like he was laying down a line - he was letting you make a choice. 

Him or the Titans. 

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you. 

Deep down, Jason feared that if he did go with you - the Titans wouldn’t want him back. He feared another cutting rejection. They would simply bench him again, they wouldn’t even need him to help save Gar. They wouldn’t want him to help. He was useless, after all. He was careless and stupid. That was why he needed you to choose him. To stay. 

That was what his mind was screaming out as you looked at him, disappointment flooding your eyes as you questioned him about Gar, about going back to the Titans. 

Stay. He silently begged. Pick me. 

And watching you snatch up your jacket in a huff and get up from the table, your food barely touched - his eyes boring into your back as you retreated - it was like having his heart carved out of his chest. And because he was so fucked up, he just sat there. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t chase you. 

He let you go. 

Having you suddenly disappear from his life was like missing a limb. Jason was constantly aching around your non-presence, constantly missing you. He felt torn up from the inside out, wondering if his frayed nerve endings would ever heal themselves. When he went to Donna’s funeral, he stared at you from across the tarmac - telling himself that if you even so much as glanced in his direction, he would cross that sickly one hundred foot black sea and talk to you. He would make the leap and apologize. 

But you were fettered and stubborn and you kept your head straight. You knew it was the ultimate punishment not to acknowledge him. So the moment that the plane took off, Jason shoved on his helmet and sped off on his bike.

He easily became numb after that. 

He went back to Bruce - to lay low and lick his wounds, or because it was the only place he knew, he wasn’t sure. He tried to be a Robin that wasn’t with you. It didn’t work. He felt more broken than ever. It was cheesy, pathetic bullshit - but he talked about you in therapy. Leslie encouraged him to reach out to you, but every time Jason’s fingers hovered over your contact in his phone, his hands shook, and all he remembered was the look of pure scorn you had given him before you snatched up your things and left the diner that day. 

He thought of you as he suited up to go after the Joker. He considered how easy it would be for the two of you to take down the stupid clown together - how flawlessly the two of you worked as a team. 

Jason thought of you as he drew his last breath, soaked in blood and struggling past the world-ending pain. He wondered, in a haze, if you were warm in your bed in The Tower while he was pressed into the cold ground, taunted by the laughter that rung in his ears. 

… 

Jason didn’t know how hard you cried for him when you heard the news of his death. 

You wouldn’t have dared to say that the hole in the middle of your chest was caused by love - caused by the heartbreak of a lover being stolen. But you certainly felt robbed when you heard that the Joker had killed him. You seethed and you heavily considered marching toward Gotham to seek revenge. 

You knew that Dick was angry with Bruce for finally giving in to what the Joker wanted and killing him. For finally ending their sick, twisted game. But when you found out - you were glad that the clown was dead. You wrapped one of Jason’s stolen shirts around your pillow, and you slept a bit easier at night. 

…

Jason knew that he should have left town. 

Crane claimed that Red Hood was going to be the next Batman - that he was going to be something the Bat never could. That he was going to actually keep the streets safe. But so far, all Jason had done was steal, kill, terrorize, torture. Crane spoke of omelets and breaking eggs - pigs and bacon, and ‘marketing’ himself to the public. But truly, it never made any real sense to Jason. 

Jason knew that now, he was the type of man lurking in the night whose arm you would have broken if he was lingering too closely to the vulnerable. And you would have been right for doing so. 

Jason was tired. He felt lost - directionless. He was getting tired of Crane’s bullshit. He missed you. But he knew that he couldn’t just go running back to you. You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did. 

When Crane called him in that night, wanting to discuss ‘the game plan’ - Jason was worn. His patience for all of it was already wearing thin, and what happened next - it truly caused him to snap. 

Jason showed up in full gear, wearing the costume of an alias he no longer believed in; foolishly dressed up as someone he had truly begun to resent. He was holding his helmet in hand, his heavy boots clunking on the floor as he dodged around Crane’s egghead lackeys - a random group of people who were working to convert the anti-fear gas into a larger batch. He knew that they were aiming to get more and more people in the city hooked; if Jason hadn’t abandoned his morals in this new life, he might have cared more about the consequences. 

Instead, he made a B-line for Crane, who was typing away at something on the computer. 

“Jason, my boy!” Crane grinned at him, giving a false, performative grin over his shoulder. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” 

“What do you want?” Jason asked, his tone flat. 

He was far too tired of Crane to engage in more word play or stupid riddles. 

“Never one for pleasantries, are you?” Crane chuckled. 

Jason didn’t offer him a reply - seemingly confirming his theory with this simple act. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very pleasant today. He hadn’t felt very pleasant any day since he had been so rudely pulled from the morgue and zombified to do someone else’s bidding against his will. Being an undead puppet didn’t really make a person all that pleasant. 

Crane reached into the pocket of his oddly quaint grandpa sweater and pulled something out - a small glass vial, containing some clear liquid. It looked harmless - like water. But Jason knew Crane, and he knew that whatever it was must have been entirely dangerous if Crane was carrying around such a small dose of it. 

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, giving the vial a small shake, jostling the liquid inside to emphasize his point. 

Jason hesitated before he shook his head in the negative. He hated to appear clueless and stupid around such an intelligent man, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong. He knew that being misinformed around Crane was dangerous. But being cocky and pretending to know more than Crane was even more dangerous. 

“This is a very highly concentrated form of liquid Methadone.” Crane explained. “It’s a highly addictive substance. And I think it’s going to give the mass market version of your formula that little extra kick that it needs, ya know? Keep the people coming back for more!” 

He let out a bright chuckle, as though he was talking about a cleaning product that was marketed on an infomercial or some kind of great recipe for soup. That was one of the things that scared Jason the most about Crane - his ability to talk about life changing, deadly things with such jarring enthusiasm. He truly thought of bringing people their worst nightmares and their most painful deaths as ‘beautiful work’. 

“What about it?” Jason prodded quietly. 

He knew that Crane hadn’t called him here just to brag about a new idea to add something to the formula. He needed Jason for something. 

Jason just hoped that he wasn’t looking to use him as a guinea pig again. He would likely rather die again than go down the path of heavy drugs. One thing he had vowed - he wouldn’t end up like his mother. 

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. “Due to its highly addictive qualities, Methadone is also a highly regulated substance. But because I am the wonderfully well-connected man that I am, I happen to know that there is a very large stash of it just sitting there, ripe for the taking, in this quaint little building uptown.” 

Jason’s gut stirred with suspicion. 

“Where uptown?” He asked. 

“Well, it’s just-” Crane stuttered, and then sighed, deciding to get it out and over with. “The Wayne Memorial Cancer Research Facility.” 

Jason glared at him. 

“But see, it’s fine! Because I happen to know someone who knows their way around the Wayne Tech security systems very well. So Red Hood breaks in there, gets me my-” 

“No.” Jason said flatly, before he turned and started to walk away. “Find somebody else. We’re done.” 

Crane had threatened to replace him before. Crane had no-so-subtly threatened to kill him alongside being replaced. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Jason would be better off dead. Maybe Crane would find out that Jason was irreplaceable after all. Maybe Jason was a dirty, seedy criminal shaped by life for only one thing: ruining the lives of others. If Jason couldn’t do that, he wasn’t sure what he would do. 

But he wasn’t going to fucking do this. 

Killing was one thing. Stealing from drug dealers and mobsters was another. What he had done to Hank had crossed too many lines - but it didn’t even begin to approach the lines that this crossed. 

Stealing from a facility that Thomas and Martha had set up when Bruce was just a child, shitting all over their legacy, using skills that Bruce had taught him in order to do it? That was too far. Jason couldn’t say that he had morals anymore, but he still had that voice of common decency in the back of his head yelling at him to stop it. Maybe it was your voice, correcting him at every turn the way you used to. 

He should listen to that voice. 

He should leave town. 

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him. 

The pure annoyance that the nickname caused was the only thing that stopped Jason. He considered turning around and shooting Crane just to shut him up. 

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.” 

Jason turned back around then. 

“Nothing you say ever makes any fucking sense.” He barked out, ready to leave Crane with these as his last remarks before he left Gotham forever. 

But then Crane tapped at a few things on his keyboard and pulled something up on the monitor - a dark, grainy video feed that had Jason squinting his eyes and walking closer to get a better look. 

When Jason was able to truly take in the scene - his stomach dropped. 

It was you. 

You were sitting alone in some anonymous, concrete warehouse - probably in the industrial district of Gotham, if Jason had to guess. Crane didn’t like to keep his insurance policies too far away, he liked to play it close to the vest. You were tied to a chair, duct tape tight over your mouth, very much there against your will. You were looking straight ahead, with the camera angled down from the top corner of the room. Even through the grainy, black and white footage, Jason could see the wetness of tears streaking down your face. 

You were terrified. 

Jason’s helmet clattered to the floor, slipping from his grip as the shock overtook his system. 

For the first time in weeks, fighting through the numbness of the drugs and the hazy shock of his new half-life - he was terrified too. Then he was angry. Rage bubbled up inside of him like a sharp, acidic bile. 

“What the fuck have you done?” Jason growled out, the anger setting his jaw so tight that the words could barely escape between his teeth. 

“I told you - every loyal dog gets a treat.” Crane said, a barely contained glee filtering through his voice as he peered over Jason’s shoulder at your weeping face on the screen. 

He clapped a large hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason felt himself nearly choke on his own tongue - so swollen with anger that it barely fit in his mouth. 

“So, go fetch, doggie.” Crane continued. “Go get me what I need. Otherwise, that sweet little treat of yours is gonna play dead.” 

Crane leaned over and whispered those last words into Jason’s ear - and that was what truly caused him to snap. 

In a flash, Jason grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder, whipped Crane around - there was a loud crack as Jason broke Crane’s arm. The egghead types who were working on the formula all paused; some of them gasped or hid behind things, but none of them were brave enough to intervene. Jason shoved Crane’s face into the monitor, cracking it out like a spider’s web but never fully obscuring the image of that dark, cold warehouse - the place where you were alone and terrified. 

He twisted Crane’s broken arm, making a sound like glass grinding in on itself, and the man let out a howl. 

“I think you forget how this works.” Jason barked at him, his voice so dark with rage that it almost sounded like he was wearing Red Hood’s voice modulator even though his helmet was on the floor at Crane’s feet. “When dogs get pissed off - they bite.” 

He twisted the injury again, and Crane let out another bitter howl. 

Jason demanded to know where you were, and Crane squeaked out an address. It was in the industrial district, so it checked out in Jason’s mind. It didn’t seem like a trap or a false answer to waste his time. 

Jason shoved the pathetic, useless man to the ground, kicked him in the gut for good measure, and then leaned down to grab his helmet before shoving it on. He would need it in case Crane had anybody stationed there, guarding you. 

Crane shouted something at him as he walked away, but Jason was barely paying attention - now very singular minded on his mission toward you. 

“You have to learn to play by the rules, Red!” Crane choked out. “You won’t like how this ends! I made you! I fucking made you!” 

… 

Jason was surprised to find the building empty. No guards, seemingly no bombs, no gas canisters. At first, he thought it really was a trick, a misdirect to waste his time. But when he had just about given up hope of finding you, searching one of the back most rooms that used to serve as overflow storage for Ace Chemicals - he found you. Concrete and anonymous, some of the beams having eroded away in places from improper chemical storage. 

When you saw him stalking toward you - his gun drawn, heavy boots thudding against the floor, modulator puffing out heavy, mechanical breaths - you let out a terrified whimper past the duct tape and more tears flowed freely down your face. 

Jason felt a twinge of guilt. Of course. You had no clue it was him. 

Perhaps he could get away with the mercy of never revealing himself to you. He could keep his mask on, release you, drop you back off with the Titans and then leave town. But eventually, Dick would tell you who he was. 

At the very least, he could give you the comfort of seeing a familiar face after the hell you had been through. You were wearing a sweatshirt and simple cotton pants, and running shoes - it looked like you had been plucked off the street during a jogging session. He could only imagine how much Crane’s lackeys had scared you. 

Once he was confident that the area was secure, he holstered his gun and then reached up, removing the face mask from his helmet and tossing it aside. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me.” He told you - attempting to be gentle and soothing in his voice. 

He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be scared as he reached to his belt for a knife - only with the intention to cut the ropes around your torso, wrists, and ankles. 

He watched your expression as you flashed through a range of emotions - deep confusion, a bit of relief, sadness, and then strangely - burning anger. You glared at him with the most intense rage he had ever seen from you - more intense even than the day you had stormed into his room and called him stupid and suicidal for going after Doctor Light without backup. 

Jason was slightly afraid of the lecture that would come next, but nonetheless, he knelt beside you and began cutting you free. 

The minute that one of your hands was free, you reached up and ripped the duct tape off your mouth. You took only a fraction of a second to wince in pain from the tender skin of your lips being disturbed before you began verbally tearing into him. 

“Jason Todd!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, so loudly that Jason was sure some of the edges of the corroded concrete pebbled off and fell down just from this. “Jason fucking Todd! I should have known you had something to do with this!” 

“Wh-?” 

Before Jason could question your odd choice of words or even recognize it as an accusation, you raised your other freshly free hand and slapped him squarely across the cheek - it was a hard, skull-shaking clatter. It had Jason dizzy, falling back onto his ass and dropping the knife before he could finish cutting the ropes around your legs. 

“Fucking ow!” Jason griped, reaching up to grab his now very red cheek. 

“You are such an asshole! Of all the completely idiotic, stupid things you have ever done-” 

“I didn’t fucking kidnap you! Okay? I didn’t do shit!” Jason quickly argued back, finally now realizing that you thought he had put you here in the first place. “I’m here to rescue you!” He said each of these words slowly, looking you in the eyes, hoping that his point would get across more firmly this way. 

There was a tense moment as you stared back at him with your jaw locked. It was likely that if your feet hadn’t still been tied, you would have run away - or kicked him. Jason was thankful that you couldn’t do either at the moment.  

“Why?” You asked, finally breaking the tension. 

“What?” Jason gaped. 

This was the last thing he had been expecting. 

He was saving you - why were you questioning him? 

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?” 

You said the last part with intense disdain, tears dancing in your eyes.

So you did know what a monster he was.  

He was surprised that you hadn’t hit him harder. 

Jason heaved a sigh. He reached over and picked up the knife, very slowly, very tentatively resuming cutting the ropes on your legs to free you. 

“I’m just freeing you so that you can be free. That’s it.” He said quietly, defeat lacing through every inch of his voice. “You don’t deserve this.” 

He cut the last rope and folded the knife, sticking it back in his belt. He stood up then and caught a glimpse of your face - you were wearing the most complex expression he had ever seen. Perhaps confusion, perhaps anger. Maybe somewhere deep in your eyes - hurt. 

He turned and moved to leave, hoping you would simply follow him out of the confusing maze of the building and he wouldn’t have to drag you out kicking and screaming. 

“That’s not an answer.” You told him, your tone sharp and certain - the same tone you always used to correct him. 

Jason whipped back around then, heaving a sigh as he looked at you - standing in the middle of the room now, arms folded over your chest, glaring at him on the spot. Cocky and so sure about yourself. Too damn certain and immobile in your points. Infuriating. 

“Why the fuck do you have to make everything so damn complicated?” Jason shot back, annoyance and dread tight in every inch of him. “Why do you have to interrogate me about every damn thing that I do?” 

“Because you make stupid ass decisions when I don’t.” You easily fired back. “Now tell me: why are you doing this?” 

“Because I wanted to.” Jason huffed. 

“Why?” You prodded again. 

He let out another hot huff, and you didn’t let it go. 

“Come on Jason!” You shouted, increasing in volume as you became more frustrated with his lack of an answer. “You didn’t just develop a conscience all of a sudden! Why did you feel the need to suddenly drop everything and come to my rescue? What makes me different than Hank? What makes me different than-?” 

It was the annoyance grinding on him. It was a combination of your nagging voice, the lack of drugs in his system for the first time in weeks. The rawness of the world ragging on his last good nerve. The sound of your voice putting him in line - exactly where he was supposed to be. The way you reminded him of the truth now more than ever. 

“Because I’m in love with you!” Jason shouted. 

It was almost… angry. It was a declaration that hit you like a whip - more like an insult than something warm and kind. It wasn’t made of sweetness, like some moment from a film with a gentle piano riff wrapped around it. It was real - made of the haunting kind of passion that kept Jason awake at night. 

Your eyes widened. Jason’s breathing stilled as he waited for you to react - to say something. 

“Oh.” Your voice cracked around this syllable, and your eyes danced with more tears. 

Jason felt his own heart crack apart inside of his chest, more terror flooding him. 

He had died with the secret because he had never wanted to live up to the embarrassing vulnerability of confessing it. In the deepest part of his mind, he had lived this horror a thousand times. Him finally creeping out onto the edge of oblivion - speaking those words. Confessing. And then you stabbing him in the heart, rejecting him. 

The reality of it ripped through him so much harder than it ever had in his nightmares. 

Any last tiny piece of his soul that had survived being murdered by the Joker had just been shattered by you. 

“Yeah. Fucking oh.” Jason echoed back, his own tears clutching at his throat. 

Seeing him with that naked vulnerability dancing behind his eyes - it reminded you of the same person who came back from being kidnapped by Doctor Light. It reminded you of the real Jason you had gotten to know. 

In that moment, it all came crashing toward you. You gasped harshly as you could barely breathe around it. 

That hole in your chest had been shaped like a lover - it had been shaped like him. Filled with the pain of letting him get hurt, leaving him alone in Gotham to be murdered by the Joker. Filled with the doubt and confusion of never knowing what could have been between the two of you if you had chased those flirtations a little bit farther. 

And now, he was standing right here in front of you, somehow perfectly alive and well - and there was only one possible thing you could do. 

“Jason.” You gasped out his name, unable to fathom more words. 

Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed both sides of his face, one of them still singed with a burning ache where you had slapped him so hard - and you pulled him into a kiss, hard. 

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. Jason’s hands rushed to embrace you, wrapping around your back and grabbing a needy, possessive handful of your ass while you kept your grip tight on his face, keeping his face forcefully close to your own as you devoured his mouth. 

You felt some of his tears escape - such a rush of emotions making him raw and unable to hold them back, and you moaned pitifully into his mouth as he wetness slipped underneath your palms. Whatever it was - his pain, his pleasure; you would take it. He was all yours now. 

… 

Far off, on the other side of Gotham, Crane chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He had pulled up the camera feed on a separate tablet, seeing as Jason had used his head to crack the monitor. With his broken arm bound in a temporary sling, he used his one good hand to pull something out of a drawer - a remote with a single button. 

“For these violent delights have violent ends,” He recited to himself, still grinning widely as he looked at the two lovers in the grainy, black and white footage. “And in their triumph, die like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume. Even the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, if the taste confounds the appetite.” Crane poised his finger on the button. “Therefore, love moderately.” 

He pressed down, and dissolved into more epic laughter as he watched what came next. 

… 

You were only human, and you could only kiss Jason for a few minutes before your brain demanded oxygen. As much as you hated to pull away from the sweet, bruising sting of his lips, you forced yourself back and immediately took in a sharp breath that turned into a rolling pant - Jason let out a needy whine in protest. 

With his arms holding you so securely and the dizzying heat now flowing through you - you almost didn’t catch it. But it was there, in the background, something steadily present that wasn’t there before. 

Beeping. A small, electronic beeping. 

“Do you hear that?” You asked Jason, squinting your eyes with confusion and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. 

He did hear it. 

“Fuck.” Jason mumbled. 

Panic flooded him. The whole thing had been a trap. 

He pulled away from you hesitantly and grabbed his mask up off the ground, snapping it back on. 

“We have to go. Now.” He told you, his voice now sharp and robotic through the voice filter as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away - you became limp to his direction for once and simply followed, fear tight in your gut once again. 

Jason didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but he knew it could be anything from a large bomb, meant to tear you to shreds, to a large dose of fear gas waiting to be deployed. And he didn’t have an antidote at the moment. He needed to get you out of the building and transport you to safety. 

When the two of you came to a door - one of the many that Jason had passed through on his way in - it snapped shut in Jason’s face. It was on some kind of mechanical locking system, that much was apparent. Jason rushed forward, trying to pry it open - but it was welded steel, and it wouldn’t budge. 

Jason heard more slamming - more metal forcing itself shut on the same locking system. 

“Jason?” You croaked, that unsure terror back in your voice again. Something so rare for you. You were looking to him for answers. You were looking to him to rescue you. 

Overhead, the last bits of light were shut out - glimpses of the street lights outside - as thick metal shudders collapsed down over the windows. The room was sealing itself shut, becoming air tight. 

“Stand back.” Jason told you, not waiting to see if you followed the instruction before he pulled out one of his guns and began shooting at the door’s heavy metal hinges. He knew it was futile and he feared that one of the bullets might ricochet off and hit you, but he didn’t have many options left. 

Then he heard it. The gentle hissing of gas being released into the air. 

Jason was naive to have hoped that it was Crane’s classic Fear Gas - that would have been a merciful walk in the park compared to what he had planned for you. Betraying Jonathan Crane meant that Jason had to be truly punished. 

Jason turned to you, wrapping his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the air itself - but it was too late. You began coughing and struggling to breathe, and Jason looked on with confusion as his chest twisted with guilt. 

With his helmet on, he felt nothing. For the first few moments, he didn’t even understand what was going on as you gasped for air, struggling to form a word as you choked on each breath. Jason had no clue what the substance was or how he could fix it, looking on in horror as thick fog clouded around your ankles - your eyes bulging out of your head as you struggled for oxygen. 

“Y/N?” Jason gasped, holding you by both shoulders as you became weaker and leaned on him. “Y/N?” 

You couldn’t answer him. 

You continued to wheeze, your breath hitching against your throat harshly. As the fog reached up to touch your face, it left angry, blistering marks in your skin. Unlike Jason, you had no armor to protect yourself - and somehow, Crane had turned the air itself acidic. Your eyes became wrecked with bloody red streaks and your face swelled as you continued to choke. 

Jason’s insides screamed, but he felt too still. 

As more of the fog touched you, some of the marks on your neck and your cheek blistered more and opened up, bleeding out pinkish bubbling puss as Jason continued to hold you - he didn’t know what else to do. 

All he could do was hold you. 

A harsh foam seeped out of your mouth as you choked on your last half-breath, and Jason felt a stinging pain consuming him - he wasn’t sure if it was the acidic fog finally breaching through his clothing, or the biting pain of having you limp in his arms - dead, as he huddled there on the floor. 

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.” 

Jason simply wept. And he held you. 

As he looked at the camera feed, Crane smiled. 

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.”

...

A/N: SOOOO obviously this ending leaves us with a lot of questions - did Jason survive? I think this can be interpreted one of two ways: one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next.

Also, if you didn't catch it (or, if you're not a Saw person) - this situation was heavily inspired by the final plot twist trap in Saw X. I love the acidic fog, and I feel like Crane could be a trap guy. The Titans version of Crane could be good friends with John, imo.

Also, if you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[terry-perry]

Todd- I'm going to tell you this thought privately, that way it shall never be spoken of again if you do not want to do it. I apologize if it is weird. thought: GF goes over to the Wayne manor to see Jason, both of age obviously, Bruce is all don't do anything bad since they got into trouble with it the last time. She's like wearing his favorite dress/skirt, Jason being Jason does not really listen to Bruce and to have a quickie with GF he rips her panties' crotch, cause keeping clothes on during sex is kinda hot to me. Ultimately Bruce catches them caught kink sorry.

18+ ONLY!!

Like all the parties at Wayne Manor, the place was packed with important people. Yet the only person Jason had his eye on was you. He knew you wore that dress on purpose. It was the most fuckable thing in your wardrobe, made for sin.

You knew what you were doing wearing it at that party. You knew what you were doing ignoring him most of the time. You knew that there was no way he'd be able to go the night without finding some place to take you after he became desperate enough to do so.

Eventually he got to you, not caring that you were in the middle of a conversation. His hand went down to your lower back, almost right on your ass, as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear about meeting at the library before taking off without you giving an answer.

You watched him walk away, enjoying your own view of the evening as you saw the way his pants clung to his backside. You couldn't wait.

----

He loved the dress so much because he was able to get things done without having the need to take it off completely. And if he wanted more skin, he could easily pulled down the neckline to reveal your breasts he can latch his mouth on. Which he currently did as he thrusted up into you. The shelf behind you began to wobble as he fucked you against it. You weren't bothered by the books falling off, all you needed was the pleasure forming between the two of you as he continued drive himself deeper into you.

Your mouths were one as you had your legs wrapped tightly around him and dug your nails into his shoulder. That earned you a growl and got him to to go feral on you, making you whimper as he hit a sensitive spot in you.

You opened your eyes a bit to watch him work, but they widened once they made contact with the door of the library opening.

"Shit, get off!" You whispered-yelled at Jason, needing to get down.

Peering over his shoulder, he saw what you did and quickly set you down. The two of you fixed yourselves up as much as you could until Bruce finally entered.

"What's going on here?" Narrowing his eyes, Bruce looked at the both of you with suspicion.

The both of you gave synchronized shrugs, having the need to act as casually as possible. You felt it did the trick, as Bruce stared at you a second longer until turning away. His parting words, however, left you both more flustered than ever.

"If you need to finish things off, you know I have plenty of empty rooms you can do it then. One of those books could've led you to a weapons room."

[peaceteaa11]

okay here’s a quick idea for a smut blog i guess??

(it’s brief so !!)

imagine:

you and eddie have known eachother since you were little blah blah blah right, you became bestfriends in middle school and haven’t looked back, one day y/n needed help with self exploration (if you will 😭), eddie and y/n are both high af in the moment y/n asked eddie to help her??

girl i don’t know this is just a really stupid idea that took me like 4 minutes to think of. anyways i am inlove with your writing style.

WOWISDJ WAIT one more thing.

can we talk about how HOT eddie’s rings are..

lord the chokehold rings have on me 🤭.. god it makes me absolutely feral

okay okay bye!!

Okay! I’m so sorry this took me so long I’ve been like having to work a job and do stuff. Which obviously is not what I wanna be doing. All I wanna do is write fanfic all day but the universe says no no no you need money ;-; super lame.

Also you’re so sweet! I love writing so that means a lot to me, darling x

ALSO also Eddie’s ringgssssssssss ughhhhhhhh feral is the correct word to use. Like rabid beast breaking free from the gates of hell type of feral. Truly sinful.

Peace and Love, Babes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Hey, Eddie?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Rating: 18+... you little crotch goblins not of age shall keep scrolling. Ya hear? I don't wanna hear no back talk. Come back when you're old enough to be reading this. Seriously, go enjoy your childhood bro. Go touch some grass.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. You saw the request. Babes. Let's not act surprised. Fingering happens, along with lots of smooching, but I figure the fingering is more important to warn about. Some light cursing. Lots of praise. (Cause I'm a whore for praising)

Summary: Exactly what the prompt says, darling. You have Eddie have been friends since you were younger. And now... you need some help. And Eddie loves to be of service.

A/N: I am so sorry. but also... no I'm not. so enjoy this. Also, this took me so long, I have been so busy. I promise more content is coming soon but literally so much has been happening. Also, boys do be messing ya girl's heart sometimes ngl. So, from now on we're gonna stick to fictional men and fictional men only. I ONLY PROOFREAD ONCE! THERE WILL BE MISTAKES! I'm sorry. But I believe there are enough context clues for when mistakes arise.

Word Count: 3.5k

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

Eddie and you have been the closest of friends since you met in middle school after you punched a young Jason Carver square in the jaw for calling Eddie stupid. Ever since then Eddie has followed you around like a puppy, big brown eyes always on you. If you were honest with yourself, at first, Eddie following you day and night was annoying. You liked to be alone. It was calm and quiet, but Eddie, he never shut up. After a few weeks, you came to love his constant chatter. You became fascinated by his fast-paced mind and creative touch to life. Ever since then you never grew tired of him and he never got enough of you, whether you could believe it or not. You two became attached at the hip and you both liked it that way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think Chrissy and Jason will have kids one day or just little demons?” Eddie giggles to himself mostly but stares across his room at you.

You turn over onto your stomach from your relaxed position on Eddie's bed. You look over the edge, down to the floor where Eddie is sitting, propped against his wall.

“Hm. Chrissy’s pretty nice. Fifty/Fifty I think.” You hum as Eddie passes the joint to you with a smirk. He puffs smoke in your direction and chuckles.

“Mmm. I don’t know. I think Jason’s evil douchey douchebag genes will take over.”

“It’s a possibility.” You suck in a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs, soaking up the intoxicating burn.

“Do you think Steve will go bald? I bet Steve has a weird shaped head. Like an almond. Or cashew. Not quite sure which but definitely a nut of some sort. Can you imagine Steve bald?!” Eddie chuckles as you pass the joint over when Eddie does small grabby hands. You laugh letting the smoke escape from your lungs, rushing out into the warm air of Eddie’s room.

“Eddie, please. Steve bald is the most scarring thing I’ve ever had to imagine. You’re killing me.” Eddie giggles to himself and you can’t help but join. Both of you not too sure as to why you are laughing. Your eyes meet his and your stomach tightens like it has for the past two years every time you’ve looked at Eddie. You’ve gotten used to the feeling of pining after Eddie so usually it was easy to ignore but tonight your mind is clouded. “So… how did things go with Jenna?” You poke a bit trying to gauge how his date a few days ago went.

“Don’t get me started, love.” He laughs softly.

“You get laid?” The words topple from your lips before you can think. Instantly as the words hit your ears you mentally scold yourself. God, could you be more obvious?

“Nah.” He shakes his head and pushes his hair from his face. He gestures for you to take the blunt but you shake your head softly. He nods and takes another hit. “My right hand has been my best friend for a while now. I can’t remember the last time I got laid. Probably junior year. After that one gig. But maybe not.” He chuckles casually but your stomach churns. “How bout you darling? Getting any action?” He stares at you intensely. His eyes dark and questioning.

“Eddie. You already know that I haven’t. I’ve never even…” you let your words trail off. Thanking the gods that your brain caught up to your words before they left your tongue.

“Even what?” He smiles softly. Sitting up a bit straighter.

“Don’t act dumb.”

“I am dumb. Just say it.” He tilts his head confused. “We’re best friends, y/n. Just tell me. You know I’m not one to judge. Ya know glass rocks and houses.”

“Glass house and stones.” You laugh.

“Yea yea.” He waves his hand back and forth dismissing your correction.

“I… well. You know I haven’t had sex yet Eddie.” You whisper and he nods slowly.

“Yea. I know. I’m just making sure nothing's changed.” His face twitches a bit like he’s nervous. “Your right hand also been keeping you company?” He smirks playfully as a blush, whether from the high or his brazen confidence, you couldn’t tell, sets in on your cheeks. All you knew is your face was very very hot.

“No!” You giggle pushing yourself up so that your sitting on your knees looking down at Eddie as his face drops.

“Wait! What?! How have we never talked about this?! You’ve never masturbated before?” He springs to his knees and shuffles over to the edge of the bed. He looks up at you and his eyes are filled with amazement.

“What? Of course I have, idiot!” You push Eddie’s forehead and he chuckles bouncing right back.

“Okay… now I’m really confused.”

“Eddie. Can we just drop this?”

“Nooooo tell me!” He whines like a child grabbing your hand in his. He gently kisses your knuckles and smiles. “Please?”

“I- just promise you won’t… like… think I’m weird.” Your words cause his face to drop into a serious face.

“Look at who you’re talking to, babe.”

You nod slowly. “It’s just. I’ve never really… enjoyed? I just never really found pleasure in… touching? I- this is so stupid. I just I’ve never really…” your voice softens as Eddie crawls onto the bed in front of you. He grabs your chin and lifts your gaze to his.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” He asks soft and sweet.

You nod your head, confirming his question.

“Oh. That’s. Oh.” Eddie releases a breathy chuckle.

“Yea…” you try to look back down at your lap but Eddie holds your chin up. His gaze locked on yours.

“You sure?” He squints down at you. You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t get stuck in your head.

“Eddie… I think I would know if I’ve-“

“Okay okay yea. You would.” He sighs and his hand falls from your chin into your lap. “That sucks…” he whispers and looks down at his hand in your lap. You nod slowly and silence falls over the two of you. Your high still buzzing through you making you hyperaware of Eddie’s warmth near your body.

“Hey, Eddie?” You whisper softly your voice shaking. God. This is going to be either the best or worse decision you ever make.

“Hm?” He lifts his head and looks into your eyes causing you to second guess what you’re about to say. “Y/n?” He chuckles nervously in your silence.

“You’ve… touched girls before.” You whisper. Your words causing Eddie to tense up. “Can you…”

“Woah Woah. You have no idea what you’re saying right now.” He grabs your knees and looks down at you like he is about to scold you.

"Oh. So you haven't touched girls before then?" You tease him trying to lighten the mood between you two. He smirks down at you gripping your knees tighter.

"Hey now, that's not what I said." He chuckles. "You're too high to be saying all this."

"You're just as high as I am." You poke his chest and he shakes his head lightly.

"No. I am way more tolerant than you, my love. I am nowhere near as high. I mean. I'm pretty gone, but with what you're saying... you're really gone."

"No. No. I'm not. Really!" You giggle and Eddie shakes his head.

"You are! Y/n you're my best friend I know when you're lying. Idiot." He chuckles and kisses your forehead. As he's pulling away you reach up and grab his face and pull it down to yours. You listen as Eddie's breath catches in his throat as his hands slip off your knees and his body sort of slips into yours. “What- what are you-"

"Eddie, help me. Please, I want to. I want you to help me." Your voice is soft as your breath hits his lips. He shivers a bit and grabs your waist. He pushes himself up a bit straight but keeps his head level with yours.

"Please. Please don't do this to me." He sighs softly, closing his eyes. Your heart starts to beat faster in your chest, a part of you thinks it's just an effect of your high but another part knows that it's Eddie.

"Do what?" You ask softly and nudge your nose against his.

"You... you don't understand how often I think about you. I can't do this. I can't. It-"

"I think about you too. Like all the time." You giggle but Eddie shakes his head.

"No. You don't understand I don't about you like I'm supposed to. As my best friend. I think about you-"

"Like this..." You whisper and lean into Eddie. Pressing your lips to his. He groans and leans into you but quickly pulls away.

“No no no. Don’t do that. We can’t.” He shoves your shoulder just a bit but you scooch near him once more.

“Eddie, just this once? Please? As a favor to a friend?” You bat your lashes at him and he groans.

“Friends don’t do this.”

“Then we can reassess afterwards. Right now I just really really want your hands on my body.” You whimper and is eyes widen. You watch as his eyes scan your figure.

“Come here.” He grabs you under your arms and quickly readjusts the two of you on his bed. His back against the wall and your back against his chest. “Reassess after?” He checks with you again and sighs softly into your ear.

“Mhm. I already know what I want though." You smile out into Eddie's room wishing you could see his face.

“I think I do too. But I can’t think about it all right now.” He grunts pulling you closer and lifting your shirt up over your head.

You sigh as his warm fingers contrasting with the cool metal of his rings glides down your chest and your stomach. You shutter and push your head back against his shoulder.

“Eddie…” You whimper in his arms. Falling apart at just the idea of his fingers dancing their way further down your torso.

“I haven’t even done anything yet. Save your breath.” He places a small peck on your neck, testing the waters. When you shiver beneath his lips and move your hands to grip his thighs he smirks. "So, you enjoyed that, yeah?" He slides his hand further down your body causing you to push against his form behind you. He grunts a bit and places a few more kisses on your neck.

His hands roam your hips a bit, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your sweats every once and a while. You inhale a deep breath trying to slow your mind down, but everything is on overdrive and you can still feel the buzz of your high in your chest. Eddie's thumbs dip below the band of your pants on either side and you hear him inhale sharply.

"Can I?" He whispers through his teeth, nervous, maybe as nervous as you are.

"Yes." You whisper and lean your head back onto the front of Eddie's shoulder while he lifts your hips up and helps you to shimmy out of your sweats. He groans as your hips collide with his haphazardly.

"Careful." He chuckles and tries to push your hips a little further from his but you whine.

"I like you be against you. You're so warm and comfy." Your words a mumbled yet floaty which is a show of your high, but still. You are sure that this is something you want and have wanted for years now.

"Warm and comfy?" He chuckles and pulls your hips back into his, the bulge in his pants pressing against your lower back. "You're so beautiful, my love." He hums into your ear and shrugs his shoulder a bit, signaling for you to move your head. You lift your head and as soon as you do his lips are attached to the gentle skin of your neck.

He lets out soft hums, almost like a buzzing near your ear. You almost don't even notice his fingers working the waistband of your underwear. You gasp as his fingers hook around the sides and pull the thin cloth down your legs. Eagerly, you help by maneuvering your legs.

Eddie nibbles at your neck as he flings your underwear somewhere in his room. His nibbles and kisses on your neck get hungrier and sloppier as his hands find your knees. He grips your legs and slowly spreads them apart, hooking them around his extended legs to keep them spread.

The air of Eddie's room hits your sensitive skin and you shiver. Eddie pulls his lips away from your neck and grunts, his hips rutting up into you involuntarily. You feel the slick between your hips intensify at his actions.

Eddie's hands slide down your thighs and find your hips. His thumbs rub small circles into your skin. It's agonizing for him to be so close, yet so far away.

"You sure you want, uh, my help?" He hums.

"Mhm. Yes. For educational purposes." You joke and he can't help but laugh. His chuckles rumbling from behind you, his chest buzzing, sending shivers throughout your body.

"Right." He presses a warm open-mouthed tongue to your neck. Sucking at your skin as he pulls away. You whine, skin tingling from his touch. "Educational. You better pay attention, ya know, so that you'll be able to learn for when I'm not around to help." His voice is deep and you can practically hear the lust in his voice. Dry and sultry as his fingers grip at your waist, painfully tight.

"Eddie..." You beg, pushing your hips back into his on purpose. He whimpers from behind you and his breath catches in his throat. You smirk to yourself until you feel his warm fingers pressing lightly over your mound. You shutter.

"Ready?" He questions genuinely. All you can manage to release is a soft moan and eager nod.

Your hands have been the only explorers of your body and all they did was fumble about. Unsure. Unknowing of what made you feel good, nothing ever felt right when you did it. You felt shame in your own touch. Afraid of how to please yourself, how could you know your own body so little? What was the difference between your touch and Eddie's, besides the obvious?

Maybe it was the approach, the view. Where your fingers felt shame, Eddie's feel beautiful curves and folds. Where your fingers fumbled, his glide eager to please you.

Eddie gently slips a finger into your folds. He hums to himself and slowly pulls his finger from you. You whimper at the loss of his touch. "Woah, you're really wet." He chuckles. A warm blush of embarrassment cloaks your face. "Don't be shy, darling." He nudges his nose against your cheek and sighs lightly as his finger dips back in. You whimper as his finger quickly finds your clit. He hums proudly. "There it is." He rubs slow circles over the sensitive bud with his index finger and grips your waist with his other hand to keep you from bucking your hips. "Pay attention, now." He chuckles. You whine pushing your head back into his shoulder once again.

"Eddie, I- I..."

"Shhhhh. I'm teaching. Don't interrupt." A cocky chuckle slips from his lips as he slides his middle finger between your folds as well. He lays a soft kiss on your neck and your whole body tingles. Buzzing from your high but mainly from the feeling of Eddie's fingers gently rubbing your clit. His cool rings send chills down your skin as they cause contrasting feelings from his fingers. "Right here. This is where you want to spend the most time and attention. Mkay?" He groans halfway through his explanation, his hips rutting against your bare back. You whimper, your hips fighting against his left hand for movement. "Oh shit... when you... when you make those sounds it's hard to focus on-" You let out another soft moan, "Fuck." He groans into your neck, grinding against you as his fingers encircle your clit faster.

Your back arches, chest raising leaving his behind and you hear his huff. You feel his left hand rubbing soft circles on your hip encouraging you. Heat builds up in your lower torso, like a million knots tying, one after the other, tension building up. You grip his thighs, nails digging into his skin so harshly that there is no doubt that marks will be left. Not that he will mind.

"Okay. Um, now tell me if it hurts or if you don't like it okay?" You hear Eddie's voice from behind you as your back falls back into his chest. More tension is building in your core. All your sense overloaded from the high of both a building climax and Eddie's voice.

"Mmm. Eddie, please." You know what comes next and you are dying for him to show you all the right twists and turns to take. To show you how he sees your body, to show you how you should see and feel your body.

"Okay." He huff nervously but you can hear the tint of excitement that he is trying to push down. Suddenly, Eddie's two fingers slip inside you causing your jaw to fall slack. Your breath hitches in your chest. "Oh... wow... you like that, my love?" You not feverishly one hand flying up to grab the back of Eddie's neck, wanting him to be as close to you as possible. You grip at the hair sitting at the nap of his neck that is sweaty from arousal traveling through his body. He moans loudly into your ear as you tug him down into your neck. He huff and starts to lay sloppy kiss all over your skin. Your shoulder and neck are sure to be covered in his marks once you have finished.

His fingers begin to push in and out of you causing jolts of pleasure to rush through your body. His thumb quickly finds your clit again he rubs quick but deliberate circle over it. Your back arches again but this time Eddie does nothing to stop you. He continues to push his finger in and out of you, his rings hitting the rim of your opening every time. Never failing to send that cooling shock through your pleasure.

"Eddie!" You whine loudly as he quickens his pace. Pressing harder onto your clit. Energy buzzing through every blood cell in your body.

"Come on, darling. That's it." He kisses your cheek gently as you hold his neck tightly. Keeping his face next to yours. His scent wafting around you, his hair tickling your chin. "You're so beautiful. Your body is the most amazing thing that could ever walk this planet. Cum for me, please. Show me how beautiful you sound.

His voice in your ear combined with all the stimulation of your clit cause all the knots that had been recently tied to come undone. Your back arches away from his chest but your head digs into his shoulder. Your body trembling in his grasp. He continues to finger you as you ride out the high. All the sensations that the books and movies have talked about you, you felt.

After a few more moments of shivers and aftershocks, your body sinks back into his chest. Eddie pulls you up, readjusting you in his arms. He pulls you against his chest and kisses your neck softly. "You are perfect, my love. That was... you are so beautiful." He whispers against your cheek. You snuggle back into him, pulling his head down again but this time you turn your head and your lips meet his. Its soft and gentle. He whines into your mouth and chases when you pull away, exhausted from your first climax.

A comfortable silence befalls the two of you. "So, how was my teaching? Did you take notes?" He hums and lays more kisses on your neck, not worrying about what may come next.

"Mmmm. S'was good. But, I forgot my notebook. So I'll need more lessons." His lips pause against your neck and pulls away. His neck straightens out and he tilts your head straight back for you to look up at him. You grin at his surprised face.

"Yeah? You want that?" He questions nervously.

"Yes. And a date would be nice too. Maybe to Starcourt?" You hum happily, hazy and high.

"Yes. That would be nice. Then I can give you lessons after this date." He chuckles and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

That do be all folks. Again sorry for any mistakes but here it is. I’m exhausted from work so I hope this makes sense. Peace and Love, Babes x

taglist - @wannabeyousobad @luvmybbies @ruinedbythehobbit @and-claudia @iwillbiteabitch @llodinsonll

Almost forgot to tag my lovely babes x

[scarofthewind]

Plz bless us with showering nsfw

A/N: This took too long to write; also, hello and sorry for the not-writing. I’ve found that my family is beyond annoying and my step dad thinks that women belong in the kitchen and should cook him a meal no questions asked. Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: NSFW, R18, choking, shower sex, breast worship, no protection, anal

word count: 1.2k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Bubba Sawyer: He was way too eager to slip his cock between your legs. What started off as a nice warm shower, ended with the water going cold as he had you clinging to the shower curtain for support. The way his cock hit deep inside you made you nearly topple over if it wasn’t for his heavy grip on your thigh, keeping it raised for the perfect angle. You were so blinded by euphoria that you almost missed the shower curtain rod bending as you held on to the curtain. The creaking of metal was what made you look up, “Bubba stop, the curtain’s gonna fall!” You feel him still and he looks up too, his lips leaving the mark on on your neck as his eyes watch the curtain rod bend, your hand letting the fabric of the curtain go. You make a mental note to keep the sex in the bedroom for safety purposes.

Vincent Sinclair: You hadn’t even gotten the chance to wash the conditioner out of your hair before Vincent had your back pressed against the shower wall. Holding one of your legs up by the back of the knee, he fucked into your sopping cunt at god speed, each thrust into your gummy walls had him closer to his own orgasm. His eyes focused on the way your breasts bounced with each snap of his hips and he bent down to take one into his mouth, teasing your pert nipple and reveling in the way your hands raked down his back. It didn’t take long before he was shooting his cum deep into your cunt while nipping at your breast like a starved man. 

Norman Bates: He never thought it was the safest option due to the idea of slipping and possibly hurting oneself, but when your hands trace down his front, nonchalantly stroking his slowly hardening cock, who is he to say no? Norman likes to watch your face so your back would be pressed against the wall, legs wrapped around his waist while he hold onto your ass for dear life, trying his best to keep steady whilst bouncing you on his member. He’ll cum quicker during shower sex that way he can enjoy eating you out on the bathroom sink once he’s fingered his seed out of you. 

Charles Lee Ray: He’s a lazy, laid back man so usually with sex, you’re doing most of the work. Even in the shower, it’s you working yourself back on his cock, hands pressed against the cold tile walls while his hands grip your hips tightly. His eyes never leave your conjoined sex’s; watching the way your tight little ass swallows his cock makes him groan in satisfaction. “Can you please fuck me already?” You whine, looking back at him and watching his eyes flick up to yours with that same look of boredom as always. He gives a quick snap of his hips in a teasing manner but still makes you do all the work; don’t worry, he let’s you tease him back...sometimes.

Brahms Heelshire: His lips never leave your chest; his mouth has created over a dozen hickey’s that will last longer than a week with how dark they are and his teeth now gently nibble at your nipples, pulling on them softly before flattening his tongue over them. His thrusts are slow but manage to send shivers up your spine every time with how deep they go. “Please go faster, I’m almost there,” you practically sob, knowing damn well he’s doing it on purpose to tease you. You both know that he has your orgasm in his hands and will prolong it for however long he’d like. A sharp nip to the side of your breast has you hissing as he straightens to tower above you, the warm water of the shower hitting his back. Brahms can feel the way your walls tremble around his member and he smirks to himself knowing he has you exactly where he wants you; begging.

Thomas Hewitt: With how big he is, a shower is cramped with you joining him; however, it doesn’t stop him from holding you close and fucking into your drooling pussy like a madman. His thrusts are relentless and his hands have a rough grip on your ass as he plants you against the wall, your breasts bouncing against his chest at is movements. “S-slow down, Thomas,” you barely get out between moans but you know he won’t. He’ll keep hitting that spot inside you that’s almost painful as he grunts and growls above you, his orgasm fast approaching all whilst the hot shower pours along his back.

Michael Myers: Oh sweet Jesus I pray for you; he’s ruthless and feral so he’ll do anything with you anywhere; including fucking you against the cold glass of the shower door. He likes seeing your breath fog up the glass as you try to hold on to it for dear life while he fucks the soul out of you. His cock drags along your walls with ease, the hot water helping aid with the movement while the steam makes everything more feverish - more primal. If you have neighbors, they will defiantly be complaining at some point later in the day because with how hard and fast he fucks, Michael defiantly has you screaming his name like a prayer.

Bo Sinclair: He’s another one who doesn’t really care for it; he doesn’t want to bust his ass from slipping in the shower but the moment you get on your knees in front of him, his cock is hard and ready to go. Bo will get a toothy grin on his face and act cocky but deep down, he’s absolutely losing his mind at the pleasure your warm mouth gives him. Shower sex is the only time you’ll ever see this man cum so fast in his entire life. There’s just something about the way the water droplets roll off your breasts and the steam in the air makes his head cloudy with lust while his eyes watch your juices drip from your pussy as you swallow his cock. 

Jason Voorhees: He’s afraid of water, but when you shower with him, he goes without a word. He’ll start off gently in his touches, wanting to stay pressed against you underneath the warmth of the water. As time grows though, he won’t hesitate to sink his thick cock between your lower lips, watching your mouth part as a soft whimper escapes your throat. Once he’s bottomed out, the fun begins. It’s hard to know what Jason’s really thinking but you can guess by what kind of mood he’s in; if he wraps his fingers around your neck while fucking you against the shower wall, his eyes boring into yours, then he’s mad. If he slows his pace and focuses on hitting your deeper spots over and over again, his head buried in your neck, then he’s in a good mood. Either one has you creaming and gushing around his cock in no time.

[soradragon]

I’ve been reading this for three times now. Am I normal about this? Yes (hell no) just a regular day, smelling the flowers enjoying the sun-

HSBHXJAJJAJSNNS THIS IS SO GOOD IM FERAL IM GNAWING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE JASON, JASON IMMEDIATE RESPONSE “is this heaven?” AND IMMEDIATE PARANOIA THAT SOMETHING IS WRING BECAUSE THIS COULD NEVER HAPPEN TO HIM IS EVERYTHING TO ME like like like baby boy baby believes he cannot be loved and ohhhhhhh my heart my poor heart

Jason’s such a gentleman, such a sweetheart how he tries not to indulge to much, yet tries to play long to make sure not to hurt reader, it’s a balancing act and ohhh how delicious this is my heart cannot go on hello??

Oh I’m obsessed so obsessed

AND THAT ENDING!!! Delicious! My heart! Ohhhh I was sitting at the tip of my seat staring like “this cannot be the end, please please do not lay Jason think you don’t love him please, I cannot go on otherwise-YESSSSSS LETS GOOOOOOO CONFESSED YESSS ATTA READER! ATA READER! and the kiss at the end *swoons*

most normal thing in the world | jason todd

Summary: You get hit with a love spell. Naturally, the first person you seek out is Jason Todd.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings/tags: love spell (so potentially mild dubious consent but all the feelings are reciprocated), lovesick you, lovesick jason, repressed jason, LOTS of cuddling/lovie stuff, needles, magic, pining, happy ending.

the divider

Jason's having a good night.

He made himself an indulgent lasagna, and now he's got leftovers for tomorrow. He's off from patrol tonight, which, he must admit, was nice of Cass to offer.

Yeah, Jason actually feels pretty normal. Feels like any young person would. Hell, he might put on a movie he won't pay attention to, or finally adopt a cat, just to keep the normal streak going. That's what young folks do, right?

(He can think of some other things young people do, things that Jason won't allow himself to dream of.)

Knock knock.

Jason sighs. Well. The streak was good while it lasted.

He gets up, shuffling over in his sweats. He undoes the four locks and opens the door to reveal... you.

"Uh, hey," he says, cracking the door wider. "Everything okay?"

It's late. You shouldn't be out now, even if the sun hasn't gone down yet.

Jason frowns when you sway in the doorway and don't respond.

Then you flash him the sweetest smile he's ever been on the receiving end of. Wow. Sure, Jason's seen you flash your pretty teeth before. But not like this. And not at him.

"Hi, Jaylove. Hi."

"Uh." He watches you walk right past him, into his apartment. He shuts the door. "Hi... What's goin' on? You alright?"

You turn to face him. "Why wouldn't I be? After all, you're here."

"What?"

You walk to him and take his hands in yours. Jason's eyebrows rise.

"Hey...?" Jason says, looking at your joined hands. You lace your fingers together.

"My prince," you say happily. "Your eyes are beautiful. Like emeralds. And you have a beautiful mouth. Your whole face is beautiful. I'd like to paint you."

"Are you on drugs?" Jason releases your hands to hold your face. He gently pushes your eyelids up to inspect your pupils. You just smile.

"I feel high when you touch me," you say. "Just being near you is drug enough."

Yeah, Jason's now feeling a healthy amount of paranoia. It's not that you don't stop by or that you're not nice. No, you're the sweetest creature Jason's ever had the pleasure of meeting.

But wanting to touch him? Thinking he's beautiful? Calling him your prince? Either you're drugged or he's died again and found paradise.

Then again, he probably wouldn't still be in Gotham if this were paradise. You'd definitely be here, though.

"Right. Your eyes are fine." Jason lets go of your face. "You sure you didn't take anything? Drink anything? Run into anyone?"

"I drank tea," you say, gazing up at him. "And I petted a fat orange cat. Don't you want a cat?"

"I surely do. You drank tea?"

"Mmhm. It was almost as amazing as you."

Jason nods and lets go of you so he can take your hand. "Okay. We're going to the Cave."

"How come?" you ask, but you don't protest as he leads you out and into the elevator.

"Because I wanna make sure you're okay," he says, pushing the button labeled one. You're definitely not okay, but he doesn't want to worry you.

"Oh." You lean against Jason's arm. He stiffens and looks down at you. You just burrow into his side. "'Cause you love me?"

Breath catches in his throat. You can't mean that. Do you even know what you're saying? No, impossible.

You look up when he's silent for too long. "Jay-Jay? Didja hear me?"

"Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, I did."

You look at him, big eyes sweet. "Don't you love me too? I love you."

Jason swallows hard. "I, um, don't think you're in your right mind."

Your lip quivers. Oh, God. No, please don't cry, please don't—

"You don't love me?" you ask, tears welling.

"I do love you," Jason says quickly, panicking at your distress. "I do. Shit. Please don't cry, honey. I do love you."

You frown, cheeks wet. "You're just saying that! You hate me!"

Jason shakes his head. "No, no! Oh, never, I could never hate ya, honest! I was just... um, this is the first time we've said it to each other, y'know? I do love you. Have for a long time now."

He strokes your cheek with his thumb, soaking up your tears. You sniffle but accept this, nodding.

"Oh. I'm sure I've told you that I love you before. I love you so much, Jason. I'll never love anyone the way I love you."

God, this is fucking torture. As the elevator reaches the ground floor, Jason takes a deep breath, lets you link your fingers with his, and leads you out to the street. The universe is intent in never granting him a normal night. Noted.

There's no way you're in your right mind. Jason's figured this from the start. But that doesn't make the way you look at him, like he's anybody worth looking at, any less painful.

He pulls out his phone, shoots a quick text to Dick. ETA 10 min.

Dick responds two seconds later. What's up?

Possible Code 12.

Jason pockets his phone, running through potential reasons for what did this to you. Ivy's not wreaking havoc tonight, as far as he knows.

Meanwhile, you're in another world, humming and holding his hand. Jason's thought about this many times, holding your hand and taking you for rides, you adoring him, hugging him, kissing him. He's nothing if not a masochist.

"Okay, sweetheart," Jason says, and you immediately turn to him, like a flower showing its face to the sun. Jason is no one's sun, though. He's more like the worm under your boot.

"Hm?" you ask, stroking his arm. Jason does his best to be normal about it.

"We're gonna, um, go to the Cave. You okay on my bike?"

You glance at his bike, and there's a tinge of apprehension on your face. Jason reaches for your shoulder, stops, then forces himself to touch you. You're not going to recoil from him, not in this state. And he's not doing it for himself; he's only touching you so that you'll let him take you to the Manor and figure out what's what.

He's not a bastard for holding your shoulder, right? He's doing it just so that you'll be safe.

(It doesn't matter. Jason knows he's a bastard for being in your life at all.)

You lean into him when he touches your shoulder.

"Never been on your bike, Jay," you say.

"I know. But I swear to you that you're safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you, right? Never."

You nod. "Yeah. You always look out for me. 'S part of why I love you so much."

Good God. Jason's going to be a ball of self-hatred for the next millenia over this.

He puts his spare helmet on you, helping you fit the chin guard underneath.

"Okay?" he asks.

You give him a thumbs-up. Jason smiles and puts his own helmet on.

"You gotta hold on real tight, okay? As tight as you can. Don't worry 'bout hurting me."

"Mmkay!"

He helps you mount the bike first, then follows. As soon as he's on, you wrap your arms around his middle and smush your helmet into his back.

How long has he dreamed about this? Taking you on late-night rides, feeling you pressed against him, squealing as he floats through traffic (he'd never speed the way he does when he's alone; Jason doesn't give a shit about his own body, but your safety matters).

"The bike is loud, so I'm not gonna hear you if you say something, but if you want me to stop, tap my shoulder three times, okay?"

"Okay, Jaylove." You squeeze him in what's clearly a hug. "Ready."

Jason's not sure he is. It's been a long time since anyone's touched him, much less someone he's head over heels for. You're so trusting, it makes him ache. Jason's just glad he's the first jerk you laid your eyes upon instead of the magic you're under pushing you into the arms of someone dangerous.

He starts up his bike. Jason's had guests on his bike before, mostly his brothers and, once, the old lady who runs the tea shop down the block.

He's never had a lovely thing like you snuggled up to him, clinging to him. Jason feels rabid. He feels like he needs to be shot and put out of his misery.

He follows all of the road rules so you won't be scared. You don't tap his shoulder or shake, so Jason figures you're fine. He's good. He's being good for you.

Jason slows as he goes down the ramp to the Cave entrance. He stops at the mouth of the Cave and dismounts first, pulling off his helmet.

"You alright in there?" he asks, offering his hand.

You wrap your arms around his neck and Jason wobbles as he recalibrates and snakes an arm around your shoulders instead and helps you off that way. He removes your helmet. You blink at the new light, then look at him, moony-eyed once again.

"I was kinda scared," you admit. "But I trust you, Jaybee. Always."

"Got you here in one piece, didn't I?" he says, winking at you.

"Uh-huh!"

Jason sees what you're going to do before you try. He sees the way you look at his lips, how you rear back, ready to leap and kiss him.

He redirects you immediately, preferring that to making you cry again. He hates it when you cry. Your soft mouth lands on his jaw instead.

Jason smiles, strained. You're annoyed at the fact that you missed, and Jason can see that you're about to try again when Dick and Tim come into view.

He's never been more thrilled to see his brothers.

"Fellow bretheren," Jason says. He knows his voice is thin. "Funny seein' you here."

You're briefly distracted and wave to be polite. But then you force Jason's left ear to your level and catch the lobe between your teeth.

Holy fuck. Jason nearly buckles at the sensation. He's never understood the ears as an erogenous zone before—now he gets it. He's ashamed of how heat pools in his gut as you nip his ear.

Jason balances you with an arm around your waist, gingerly trying to both hide his reaction and separate you. He accomplishes neither. Tim's eyebrows are at his hairline; Dick's mouth is open, no doubt ready to make a smart-ass comment.

"Well, it's nice to see you two so... affectionate," Dick says, holding back a grin.

Jason rolls his eyes. "I need you to run tests. They showed up to my door like this, all over me."

"Yeah, that is weird," Tim says.

"Thank you very much for that, Timbit," Jason grumbles. You kiss under his ear and weave your fingers through his hair. Jason manages to get your hands off, but your mouth is still firmly planted on his neck. He clears his throat. Normal!

"I dunno, Jason," Dick says. "It's not that weird. People fall in love every day."

And, okay. Jason can do teasing. He can even do borderline psychotic remarks. That's part of having siblings. He's made a few in his day. They've all stabbed or shot each other.

But now Dick is just being cruel.

Jason scowls. "Take their blood so we can fucking get this over with. They're clearly under a love spell."

His scathing tone surprises Dick, but it really startles you. You've moved away from his ear (Jason is both relieved and disappointed) and return to cradling his arm. You're alarmed by his reply.

"Jaylove?" you ask. "What happened? Are you mad?"

Jaylove? Jason sees Tim mouth. He forces himself to focus on you, be gentle for you.

"Hm, no, not mad at ya, sweetheart. Sorry 'bout that. But we need to run some medical tests on ya, 'kay? Can we do that?"

"Sure," you chirp, linking your arm with his.

Dick and Tim slip into Work Mode. Jason appreciates that. His nerves are frayed. He senses a self-destructive episode coming on after you're cured. Maybe he'll throw himself into a bar fight tonight.

"Symptoms?" Tim asks, going to the computer.

"Being in love with me," Jason says dryly.

"Besides that. Any physical symptoms like dizziness or nausea? Recklessness?"

"No, didn't notice any sickness. Not reckless; they did everything I said." Jason swallows, says the next part quietly, fearfully. "Probably jump into the Hudson if I asked."

Tim nods sharply. Dick prepares to draw your blood. Again, you're apprehensive. But Jason soothes you, pets you, and you're leaning into him like a cat in its favorite patch of sun as Dick takes your blood.

"I wanna get married," you say as red fills the second vial.

Dick shoots him a sympathetic look. Jason looks away.

"Soon, honey," Jason says, ignoring how his stomach's a pit.

He didn't think about love or relationships when he came back. Didn't care, not when he had revenge to plot.

But after all that was over, after he met you, after he found a reason to keep living, Jason started thinking about it.

And what he realized is that he's never getting married.

By choice? Yes, sure. Jason loves pretending he has a choice in anything. Sure, he chooses to abstain from marriage, like normal people out there do. But really, he avoids attachment it wouldn't be fair to anyone. He knows he's not made for that. His death made him unsalvageable. It's a miracle he's here at all. How dare he ask for more?

And inside, he chokes on a vine of hatred for everyone else who can find someone. Who's capable of loving and being loved. It even, to Jason's shame, has reared its head at you, whispered in his ear about how you're not damaged, so of course you'll find someone one day. Of course you'll leave him eventually. It would be stupid of him to hope otherwise.

"When?" you ask as Dick starts on the third vial. You don't even notice. Dick could probably drain you dry as long as Jason's in front of you. "When can we get married?"

"How 'bout next month?" Jason says without thinking. He would. He'd marry you tomorrow.

You think about this for a moment, then nod. "Yes, that would be good. I've always wanted a fall wedding."

"Yeah? I always liked the idea of marrying in the spring. All the flowers."

"No," you say. "Pollen's out. You'd be sneezing your head off."

Jason laughs, then wants to cry, because you know that he's allergic to pollen.

"Yeah, y'right," he says, voice thick. "Fall wedding's better."

"Alright, all done!" Dick says, forcefully cheerful. He removes the needle and puts a Bandaid on the inside of your elbow. You rest your head on Jason's arm. Jason tries not to boil himself in a fire of misery. You probably won't even remember this.

Dick watches you both, then tugs your hand. "Hey, you mind helping me fill out some info? For the tests."

Your mouth shrivels. You look at Jason, and he can't believe he's your North Star, magic or not.

"I don't wanna leave Jason," you say.

"He'll be right here," Dick says quickly. "Won't leave your sight for a second. But I need your help."

"Just for a minute?" you ask.

Dick nods. "One minute."

You sigh and turn to Jason. "I'll be right back."

Jason nods, tries to smile. "Sure. I'll be here."

He'll be here. Forever and ever and ever...

Wait a second. Tea. Jason jolts.

"Tim. They said they drank tea. Could be something there."

"On it," Tim says. "Dick, we need a mouth swab."

"Right." He turns to you. "Can I—"

"No," you say, and march back to Jason. "You said a minute."

Jason would laugh at the pout on your face, the way you plop yourself next to him and curl around him like he's a new toy. He would laugh. If he could find the humor.

Dick looks at him. Jason sighs.

"Honey?" You hum. "We just need one more test, yeah? Q-tip on your tongue. Not the most pleasant, but it'll be quick. Promise."

"Okay," you say immediately, hugging his arm.

Jason knows it's a spell, or maybe a lab-made chemical. But he's still awed by how quickly you acquiesce. How you show no worry when Dick approaches because Jason's right there, patting your hand.

Dick swabs your mouth. You cough three times after, most of your body on Jason.

"Interesting how they're not lustful," Dick says.

"What," Jason says.

"Okay, the ear thing was..." Dick shrugs. "But it's not mindless. It's actually the most reasonable love spell I've ever seen. Like, their desires for you don't feel manufactured, they feel—"

"Don't," Jason snaps. "Don't fuckin' say it."

Dick holds up his hands. "It was just an observation. You've seen Ivy's pollen doses. This one seems different."

"Fine. Ivy's taking a break from the orgies. Doesn't mean this is real."

Jason's not stupid enough to hope.

"It can't be Ivy," Tim says, and Jason almost startles. He forgot Tim was there, so wrapped up in you. "No reports of Ivy attacks. And the substance, whatever it was, wasn't inhaled. It was injested."

You wrap your arms around Jason's neck and smush your face against his. You're warm and smell good. Jason feels feral.

He holds you with a hand on your back, mind turning.

"Sweetheart," he says. You hum. "You said you drank tea after work. Where exactly did you go?"

"Dunno," you say, spacey. "Went into a tea shop that's never been there before. And an old lady invited me in. She said I looked so sad. And I was, Jaybee! How did she know?"

"Hm. Well, she gave me a tea sample, said it would make all my problems disappear. Then I petted her cat named Darcy. Like that book you like!"

"I don't know, honey," Jason says quietly, even though he has a suspicion. He's never letting you walk home alone again.

Tea shop. That's what he gets for trying to be a good Samaritan. How dare she drug you?

God, Jason just wants to hug you tight and kiss your face. It's awful of him to think of you as cute in your state, he knows.

"Track their routes," Jason says. "They take two different ones home. One crosses Bank Street, the other goes over the bridge."

"I'd call you a stalker but I really have no right," Tim says, fingers flying over the keyboard.

"No shit," Jason mumbles, letting you play with his fingers.

"Jason," Dick says quietly. He glances at you, then at his brother. "If it's too much, we can sedate them."

"No. We don't know how it'll react to the tea. It's not Ivy's brew."

Dick frowns. He knows Jason's right. Jason knows he's right.

"Okay, I got something. Magic signatures from a building on Tenth Street," Tim says. "And I think I'm onto an antidote."

"I'll check it out," Dick says, going to suit up. He looks at Jason. "Are you-?"

Jason nods. "I'm fine. Go."

So Dick does. Tim is able to make an antidote within the hour. He gives it to Jason who injects it into your neck. He feels guilty even though this is what’ll cure you. You wince at the pinch but you don't so much as whimper, endlessly trusting.

"They'll probably crash soon," Tim says, out of your earshot. "I don't know if you should risk the bike."

Jason sighs. Tim's right, and it makes him all the more agitated that his brothers have been helpful and even kind of nice during the whole thing.

You're going to crash soon. Jason has no choice but to bring you up to the Manor.

"Come on, sweetheart," he says, taking your hand and standing.

"Where're we goin'?" you ask, yawning.

"Goin’ t’bed, honey. Aren't ya tired?"

"Hmm. Mmhmm."

"Yeah, thought so."

Jason leads you up the stairs and out of the Cave. He helps keep you steady as you trip up the stairs. He's tempted to just carry you, but he feels like that might be overkill.

Once at the top of the stairs, Jason stops. Swallows.

He hasn't been up here in a while. He slept in his room once after he returned, after a nasty encounter with Scarecrow.

"Wanna sleep in your bed, Jay," you mumble, cheek against his arm.

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Okay, love."

You go to his room. It's clean, as usual—Alfred never let it get dusty. Jason had hoped that if you ever saw his room it would be in much different circumstances. Normal circumstances.

But, well. Here you are.

"Hmm, 's nice," you say as Jason pulls back the bedspread and helps you out of your shoes. You start to take off your pants and he panics.

"Uh! Uh, baby, maybe keep the pants on. You might get cold."

You frown in confusion. "Doesn't feel cold."

"Yeah, but, whew, Alfred blasts the AC! Jus' keep 'em on."

Jason cannot handle seeing you in your underwear. He draws the line there.

"'Kay," you say, and flop onto the sheets. You wiggle around, getting comfortable.

Jason sits in the fat armchair in the corner of the room. Immediately, you sit up.

"Why're you over there?" you ask, eyes wide.

Oh, boy.

"Oh. I was, um, gonna read for a bit. I'll come in in a while."

Your lip trembles. No—

"Don't leave me, Jaybee. Don't leave! Stay with me. I love you!"

Jason rubs his forehead. "Honey—"

"You hate me! You do! I annoy you." Tears gather in your eyes.

Jason hurries to the edge of his bed, climbing in in his jeans and socked feet.

"No, no, love, we covered this. I don't hate ya, hm? Where'd ya get a silly thing like that?"

You quiet as he scoots in beside you. Then you throw most of your limbs over him. Jason stiffens.

"Just got scared," you say, and kiss his chest. "Promise you won't leave?"

Jason breathes in. Breathes out.

"Yeah. I promise."

And he stays.

You wake up with a faint headache and a dry throat. Sunlight peeks through the blinds. You feel warm and safe and well-rested, despite the slight pains.

You stretch, expecting air. Instead, you touch skin. You open your eyes.

Oh. You're in a bedroom.

No, scratch that. You see framed pictures of the Bats, books on shelves.

You're in Jason Todd's childhood bedroom. With the aforementioned tucked under your arm and leg.

You jerk away so hard, you land on the carpeted floor below.

Jason's up instantly, head poking over the bed. His eyes widen.

"Shit! Y'alright? C'mere."

He gets up and practically scoops you into a standing position. Your brain short-circuits: big strong man strong big good nice. Then you recover.

"Um," you say. "Uh. Hmm. Hi."

Jason smiles tightly. "Hey."

"What... how-?"

"Right. How much do you remember?"

You try to think. You remember walking home, drinking tea, an affectionate orange cat. You remember hands on your face and your stomach swooping on a motorcycle and a gentle voice. So gentle.

"You were magicked," Jason says quickly. "It was a, uh, tea shop. Dick's checking it out. You, um, came to me and I took you here and you got an antidote and you didn't want me to, um, leave. So, yeah. Sorry."

You tilt your head. "Why are you apologizing, Jason?"

He sighs. "Just 'cause."

You have no idea what that means. But you feel like Jason's telling you a very condensed version of what happened.

"What was the magic?" you ask.

He winces. "Love spell. You thought you were... in love with me."

Jason says it like he's the one who charmed you. Like he's ashamed of it.

"Oh," you say. Well, you certainly didn't need a spell for that to happen.

"Yeah." Jason's staring at your and his shoes by the door. "But everything's fine now. I can take you home. Dick and Tim'll take care of the tea shop witch."

He doesn't wait for a response, darting to the door and slipping into his shoes. You rush forward and close the door as Jason opens it. He looks at you in confusion.

"Jason," you say softly. "What happened?"

"Whaddya mean? I told you."

"Jason. I've known you for three years. You think I don't know when you're not telling me something?"

He looks at his feet. One of his socks has a hole in the toe.

"There's nothin' to tell," he mumbles. "Magic stuff. Happens all the time. Business as usual."

You frown. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Jay. I admittedly don't remember a lot."

Jason's expression is relief but there's a heaviness to his shoulders. "Well, 's for the best, really. Magic messes with your head."

"Did I make you uncomfortable, Jason? Not letting you leave and—God, I can't imagine how I was on the spell."

He shakes his head fervently. "No! No, no, my God, no. You didn't—you could never—I mean, I wasn't... fuck. No. You didn't make me uncomfortable."

"If you're sure," you say.

He nods. "Hundred percent."

Jason doesn't sound like he's lying. You're pretty good at detecting it, especially when it comes to his feelings.

So why is he acting weird?

Well, duh. A love spell. You probably freaked him out, especially since you really do love him.

"I hope we can still be friends," you offer.

Jason turns to the door.

"Yeah," he says quietly. "'Course we're still friends."

It shouldn't make you ache. Jason's perfectly in the right to not reciprocate how you feel. How can he reciprocate something he doesn’t even know exists?

"You, uh..." Jason scratches the back of his neck. He faces you once more. "You said last night that you were sad. When you were coming home. I just wanted to say, y'know... you can talk to me. 'Bout anything."

This will make all of your problems disappear, she had said. It'd tasted like kombucha—you hadn't had a lot of faith.

Jason begins to open the door. You slide in front of him and slam the door shut with your back. He steps back in surprise.

"Wh—"

"I have to tell you something!" you blurt.

Jason stills. "Okay."

"I adopted you a cat," you say.

He squints. "What?"

"Well, she's still at the shelter but I put her on reserve. Of a sort. I have a friend who works there. She's black and white and likes to cuddle and has two different colored eyes but she can't see very well. Her name is... whatever you want to name her. Because she's yours. And I think you'll love her."

He nods slowly. "I, uh, thanks. Thank you. I was thinking about adopting a—"

"I was sad last night because I kept thinking about how you're gonna love this cat I got you but you'll never love me, and how that's the fucking worst feeling in the world."

You've stunned him silent. Shit.

Seconds tick by. A minute. Two minutes.

"Okay," you say, wanting to jump out of Jason's two-story window. "I'm gonna go drop off the face of the Earth now. Bye."

You open the door. Jason closes it by caging you against it.

And then he kisses you.

Jason pours everything into the kiss. He's not a perfect kisser but it's good. It's magic. He holds your face completely, shuts out the entire world. Kisses the breath out of you.

Yes, you could go on. It's fantastic. It's fireworks. It's sunbeams.

And actually, it feels like the most normal thing in the world, kissing Jason Todd.