#jason was still there and refused to leave

[bloggerspam]

I'm a dummy and have fucked up the reblogs.

So I'm going to fix that and delete the incorrect posts so that the chapters are all in one place in the correct order. Please bear with me and I'm sorry for any confusion....

===

Gotham is unusually sunny, which works in Steph's favor by providing ample lighting.

Steph adjusts herself, posing just a little against a streetlight behind her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She smooths down her skirt, her favorite black denim pencil skirt that makes her legs look long, for the millionth time. Her oversized jean jacket and fitted purple turtleneck keep her warm as she waits impatiently beside an equally posed Jason.

He's decided to cross his arms and casually lean back against Danny's bike, wearing a tight black thermal henley that really doesn't do anything to hide his muscles. His jeans look painted on, and his leather jacket is tucked safely in her car, parked a little ways away.

They're both pretending they're not acting like peacocks.

It's mostly working.

She's entirely grateful that Sam decided to bail the two troublemakers out, rather than Jason and Steph having to beg. Sibling solidarity can go a long, long way when cute boys and girls are involved, but it's better to err on the safe side when your main antagonist is your pesky nosy cop of a brother.

…Not that Steph's a Wayne by any means, but still. It counts.

The sound of bickering, familiar voices cause their nerves of waiting to turn into the nerves of anticipation.

"Fenton I swear to Clockwork I will end you if this happens again!!" Val's smooth baritone rasp is threatening, and even though it's playful, it still brings shivers down Steph's spine.

"What makes you think it'll happen again?" Danny challenges, Jason perking up beside her like a puppy.

"Because I know you, you dolt." Val growls, both of them coming into view now, "I bet you've already got plans on a better version knocking around in that empty head of yours!"

And fuck. Val's wearing a loose yellow crop top and low rider jeans, and with the way she jostles about with Danny, Steph can see a little peak of her abs every time she reaches up. Steph licks her lips at the flash of the other woman's dark skin, wants to bite at the pouch she's got going on that Steph knows means she's packing practical muscle.

Steph really, really wants to get her mouth on that woman ASAP.

If only Val would actually use said god damn muscles and pick up on the damn hints Steph's been leaving, that would be phenomenal.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean—oh!" Danny pauses, causing Val to stutter stop with him reflexively.

"Bossman?" Val squints, before her eyes widen, "Steph? Is that…Danny's bike?"

Jason puffs up his chest, proud, looking especially pleased when Danny beams and rushes towards them to check over his baby. It puts Danny all up in Jason's business, who refuses to step away probably for that purpose. Damn him, but he's smooth.

"Did you guys bail out the bike for him?" Val asks, smile soft as she comes to stand next to Steph, "You really didn't have to, Danny's not worth all that trouble."

"Oh, it was no big." Steph shrugs, peering down at Val through her eyelashes as best she can, "Between you and met? It didn't cost a penny." She winks. "We heard from a little birdy Danny quite likes bad boys."

"Yeah?" Val smirks, and gods is it hot, "And you totally didn't go along with it to, oh, I don't know, egg him on?"

Steph giggles, giggles like a schoolgirl! Ugh. She can't with herself sometimes. "Hey, who says he didn't need my expert help? I'm a beast with a lock pick you know."

Wait. That's not a normal thing to brag about. Abort! Abort!!

"Nice. I'm no slouch either, but I can't imagine it was easy." Val chuckles, shaking her head. "Which of you managed to crack Danny's security system? Your lockpicking skills extend to hacking too?"

…Apparently, it is a normal thing to brag about. Proceed as planned!

"We had a little help." Steph smiles her most winning smile, leaning a little into Val's space. The other girl's eyes widen, licking her lips, and Steph almost says fuck it, almost leans closer, if only—

"So I was thinkin' we could watch that new horror movie playin' at the threatre," Jason's voice is low, Steph almost misses it, if Val immediately swing her head towards him, "Carnage for Christmas, y'know, 'tis the season and all…"

Pouting at her missed opportunity, she looks over herself to see what the fuss is.

Danny is smiling helplessly up at Jason, who has a hand on the bike and is leaning over him close. They look snug, Danny fiddling nervously and looking besotted whilst Jason is eyeing Danny like he wants to eat him up.

Steph refuses to get jealous. Jason's got a head start, but that doesn't mean—

"Danny hates Christmas," To her credit, Val looks like she very much does not want to interrupt whatever is going on over there, "Plus, he's scared of ghosts."

Which. What?

Jason, mirroring her confusion, sputters. "But—I thought?" Jason's eye flick back and forth between a sheepishly embarrassed Danny and a reluctantly cockblocking Val. He settles on the safest thing to say. "Isn't Amity Park 'The Most Haunted Town in America'?"

Both Amity Parkers nod with a grimace.

"Aren't your parents ghost hunters?" Steph asks, though she regrets it when both of them stare at her with hard eyes.

"We never told you my last name." Danny's voice quavers, and he backs up just a tiny bit. "…Did you look into me?" Jason's expression crumbles, just that tiny bit, reaching over only to stop and bring his hand back when Danny flinches.

You mean his bully and his stalker? Sam had said. Fuck.

Steph and Jason both try to say no, only—only they did. Thankfully, Val steps in.

"Danny, they're Waynes." Her voice is forcefully calm. "It would be weirder if they didn't look into you."

That, thank all the fucking gods, does the trick. Steph bites her lip from refuting her Wayne status, watching tensely as Danny starts to cautiously relax, no longer looking like he's ready to bolt at any minute.

"Right." Danny breathes, relaxing enough to lean back into Jason's personal bubble, "Right, of course."

Steph and Jason silently resolve to give Val an expensive gift and a raise, respectively.

"Where did you find out about his parents?" Val asks, still in that forceful calm, silently urging them to…what, give a good excuse?

"From us, guard dog. Breathe a little." Sam's voice sounds out from the police station. "Not that I blame you, but we promise Danny is safe."

It's an odd thing to say, a concerning thing. She can tell Jason's already made a mental note to figure that shit out pronto. Boy's definitely gotten attached.

"Long time no see!" Tucker grins, waving at the four of them, "Sorry we took so long, that brother of yours had a lotta questions and Sam was not having it."

"ACAB." Sam deadpans, rolling her eyes and startling laughter out of Steph and Jason.

"He's not even supposed to be here," Steph rolls his eyes, "He usually works over in Bludhaven."

"He gave us some bull about police officer exchanges," Jason adds on, "which neither of us bought."

Danny relaxes all the way now, darting up a glance as a softly smiling Jason (gag) and even daringly leaning a shoulder against him. Jason preens.

"Wait go back," Val squints suspicious eyes at Tucker, "What do you mean long time no see?"

"It was a joke," Tucker's smile goes sly, "We met yesterday, committed our first crime in Gotham together and everything."

"Even got ice cream to celebrate" Sam smirks, "Swapped stories."

Danny looks up at Jason, wide eyes sad and mouth pouty, "You committed crime and got ice cream without us?"

Steph watches as Jason try to placate Danny, who is clearly joking and not having it, and feels all kinds of jealous and happy for him.

It just reminds her that she's gotta get going, so she leans just that little bit closer to Val, who is focused on Sam.

"What kind of stories?" Val crosses her arms, which. Delicious. Steph wants to bite them. Maybe Steph has an oral fixation.

She's okay with that. Hopefully Val is too.

"Oh…you know," Tucker drawls out, taking his sweet time, "Like how Danny's parents are ghost hunters turned ecto-biologists, a little bit about the ghosts and our town heroes…"

"…maybe a little bit about the Phan Club," Sam adds, not so innocently, "And how you were obsessed with Martina William's buck teeth in Junior Year because you thought they made her so cute, like Bugs Bunny—"

That seems to be the last straw. Val lunges.

Sam and Val chase each other, another, less monkey'd version of how Danny and Val brawled together.

It gave Steph more opportunity to observe their fighting styles, do a little more guesswork on the mystery that was Amity Park.

Danny liked to throw things, reliant on his apparent strength. Not for the first time, Steph wondered if Danny was a meta, if this was further proof that maybe Danny was Phantom, the blurry, hazmatted hero of Amity Park.

Val liked to flip and trip people up, even now, she was hooking her feet and flipping over objects on the street. She's been filmed on all sorts of security cameras, but her background doesn't discount her as Red Huntress, the newer hero that seemed antagonistic towards Phantom. Steph's not sure though, there isn't a lot of overlap beyond that in their fighting styles, and maybe it's the suit but Huntress' body type looked more svelte.

Sam, apparently, liked to use the other's momentum against them, stepping out and pushing against already moving limbs to twist them all around, topsy turvy. When Val went low to sweep a foot under, Sam stepped back and kicked it, turning Val all the way around and giving Sam a wide opening to the other girl's back, easy pickings

Steph squinted. Red Huntress liked to use weapons, so it was harder to really cement a fighting style, but she's seen Huntress use that move in one of the clips Babs sent over. And Sam was a little more on the petite side...

…Was Sam Red Huntress?

"You guys really like to brawl, huh." Steph said absently, trying to see if she could make any other connections.

"Everyone in Amity Park knows at least a little somethin' about brawling." Tucker shrugs, "It'd be hard not to, Most of the older generations were really into self-protection of any kind, even before the ghosts came around."

"Mom's a 9th degree black belt and Dad does judo," Danny agrees, "Jazz, my sister, took to Krav Maga like a duck to water, but got Dad's terrible aim."

"What about you?" Jason asks, peering at Danny's arms, no doubt remembering Danny's ease in tossing Val clear across a room and probably drooling about it. "Judo?"

Danny blushed, but it was Tucker that answered. "Danny's a whiz with weapons." He grinned a sharp little grin, "And yeah, he knows a lil' somethin' about judo. He's stronger than he looks."

Danny scratched the back of his neck, bashfully, "Mom was a little disappointed about the Krav Maga, I just don't have the head for it, but she perked right up when she found out I was good at handlin' guns."

Jason's eyes flared, and he leaned in a little closer with a gleam to his eye, voice so low Steph could scoop it up from the god damn floor. "Yeah?"

Ugh. Someone gag her. This does put the Phantom thing a little on the grayer side, since the 'ghost' hero relied more on their punches.

Steph shakes her head to clear her thought, looking hopefully over at where Sam and Val were still at it. She sighed, but turned back with a smile anyway. "And Val?"

"Val's dad works in Security," Danny's ears are so very red from Jason's attentions, "She's got some history in Hapkido, or was it Taekwondo?"

"Explains all the kicks," Jason whistles, "And all of Amity Park's like that?"

"Nobody realized how weird it was to have PE just be a karate class until Sam came around." Tucker continues, gesturing to the girls, "She came to town later, but she's also kind of good at most physical things."

"She's kicked my butt too many times to count," Danny grumbles, "Aikido is tricky to handle."

"At least you can keep up." Tucker rolls his eyes. "Leave some talent for the rest of us."

"Says the resident tech genius." Danny scoffs, but wisely keeps it at that when tucker rolls his eyes. "Besides, you're passable at guns."

"Passable," Tucker mocks, "Gee thanks."

The more she hears about Danny, the more she thinks he's too good for Jason. But then again, he also seemed perfect for him, so Steph called it a wash.

"So about that movie?" Jason decided to change the subject, probably impatient to get loverboy to himself. "We could watch something else, if Christmas or scary movies aren't your thing."

"The new Venom is out," Danny perked right up, turning towards Tucker for some reason, "We've been meaning to see that, right?"

"Uh," Tucker hesitates, gaze wide and frantic as it darts between Danny and Jason, "Y-yeah, buddy but I think—"

"The Marvel movies are one of the few movie franchises we can all agree on," Danny explains, turning back to Jason and looking up brightly, "We usually wait to watch on stream or something, but…" Danny bites his lip shyly, voice quieting, "…maybe we can watch it theatre just this once?"

Jason looks like he's trying his damnedest to not look disappointed, which—Steph feels for him, really. She and Tucker share a look, trying to figure out how to delicately navigate out of this disaster.

"Actually, I was thinking of—" Steph tries, only to be interrupted by a loud boom!

All six of them stiffen, bracing themselves and looking for the source. Those stories about Amity Park being a less Gothic version of Gotham is starting to hold water.

"Hello, Gotham!" A familiar grating voice echoes, "Welcome to my funtime jamboree!"

"Which one is this guy?" Val asks, still looking for the rogue.

"It's Riddler," Steph and Jason say at the same time.

Val groans, Sam rolling her eyes as the boys for some reason cheer.

"There are several bombs hidden throughout Gotham," Riddler continues over the police speaker system, "And each of them require some…shall be say creative problem solving!"

Steph gets tugged by the arm, pulled away before can even think about a way to separate naturally and disappear with Jason.

"Val?" Next to her, Jason has being herded by Sam, as Danny and Tucker conspire together over what looks like an old, beat up PDA.

"Danny and Tucker love escape rooms," Val explains, face scrunched up cutey in distaste, "I've been dragged to too many to count—"

"Wait—Riddler is too dangerous for citizens to—" Jason starts, trying to turn around to grab Danny, but is pushed forward by a surprisingly strong Sam.

"Yes, yes," Sam rolls her eyes, "We know, civilians etcetera and all that. Don't worry."

Steph and Jason try to argue, but are summarily stuffed into Steph's car—when did Val pick pocket her keys? Why is that so hot?

Before either of them can comprehend, Steph's been buckled into the driver's seat, Jason in the passenger, with the car somehow running.

The doors slam, and when both of them look through the passenger window, Sam has Tucker and Val in a rental car with her, Danny on his ecto-bike, already driving off.

Towards the commotion.

Steph and Jason share a look.

"What the fuck just happened?" Steph asks, stupefied.

"I didn't get Danny's number." Jason answers, equally confused but still buckling up and putting in a comm, "And you didn't even get to flirt."

"Hey!" Steph defends, putting in her own comm, "I'm not the one whose date thought they were asking the whole group to the movies!"

"Just drive," Jason growls, but it's lost in the sound of Steph revving her engine and their comms bursting into life with Babs' commanding voice and Duke's cheery timbre.

Riddler first, then dates.

Hopefully.

Mechanic!Val AU, but make it gay and sapphic.

ya'll can thank the HH discord for this one. Specifically the menace known as @clockwayswrites (and @impyssadobsessions for the art that inspired the damn thing)

Dead on Main and with some future Val/Steph >)

also @belfry-ghost did a doodle for this AU and everyone should go love on his art. Val's so unf.

===

Val’s pretty sure her new boss Jay is actually a crime lord.

She’s pretty sure he’s The Crime Lord, actually. She’s like, 98% sure she works for Red Hood now, and she’s low key mad about it. She squints at the man now, with his white streak and almost imperceptible green sheen to his eyes. 

The problem is that Val did perceive it. Because she used to date a guy whose baby blue eyes changed ever so slightly in the same way. Thinking about Danny makes her even madder.

To be clear, she’s not mad about Red Hood himself. 

She’s just mad that, of all the mechanic shops in all of Crime Alley, she just had to work for her ex-boyfriend’s third place Hall Pass pick. It also makes her miss her friends way more, and Val is hardly what one would call a well-adjusted woman, so she’s mad about it.

She huffs as she lifts the hood of the second car she’s working on today. Being a mechanic wasn’t really on the docket for Val’s life goals, nor was being in Gotham, but she got a full ticket ride on Wayne Foundation scholarships, and honestly? 

Gotham is Amity Park Lite: Gargoyles and Furries Edition. 

Between a full ride to Gotham U and being stuck at Elmerton Community College? The choice was easy. 

So here she is, working for the resident Crime Lord in his civvies. 

Jay pays good, teaches her what she needs to know, and bonus: he sometimes helps with her English Literature class. He’s flexible on hours, and she’s even got rudimentary insurance. 

All in All?  It could be worse—she could still be working for Vlad, after all. 

It's the little things.

[axstoria]

Bruce Wayne realizes that in all his intelligence, in all the warps and twists of the natural world, the one thing he cannot stop is time. He can't stop his little ones from slipping through his fingers like sand.

He respects Dick for who he has grown to become. He's a young man with his own city to protect, the founder of several teams, the "big brother" of young heroes, and an inspiration to all.

However, Bruce still sees the little boy who clung to his legs and hid under his cape. The one who did backflips off banisters and handstands while on the roof talking with Gordon. The one who assured him Barbara wasn't a threat, but an ally when she appeared as Batgirl. The one with stars in his eyes and a vengeance nothing could quell.

His boy's grown up. His first son has left the nest. He doesn't know how to cope with it.

Jason is still his baby in his eyes. He still sees the boy fascinated with everything, reading and learning as much as he could cram into his schedule. The boy who, if given the chance, would drop everything to help someone else. The one who baked with Alfred and would fall asleep in front of the Batcomputer. The one who didn't do patrols on school nights. The one who could have been anything.

He still sees his baby in the tall, wide figure that haunts the streets, securing Crime Alley. He sees the kind spirit and loving heart, even if it is buried under mounds of muscle and fury.

Bruce wishes he could go back and fix his early days with Tim.

He regrets the yelling and screaming, the constant attachment. He hates the way he acted back then, Tim standing in as a parental figure, even though both of them never referred to it as that. He was young, he shouldn't have had to take care of a grown adult.

He wishes he could have nurtured that brilliant mind of his from an early age, aiding the boy instead of allowing him to do it all by himself. He wants to go back and make little Tim feel loved and wanted, wants to adopt him from an earlier age—and, yes, he'd fight the Drakes on it. He loves this boy.

Steph was a mistake that could have easily been avoided.

Had he not been so harsh, and she a little more obedient, then everything could have worked out. She would have stayed Robin for more than 2 months, and everything would have been fine.

He wishes he could go back and tell her, "I'm proud of you," after long patrols. And maybe he wishes he could have adopted her, but to this day, she refuses.

He doesn't push.

Damian hurts his heart.

His own flesh and blood that he didn't even know existed until he was 10. Bruce yearns to turn back the clock and hold the infant his son once was in his arms, wants to hear soft coos and harsh cries, aches to watch his little face relax with sleep.

It kills Bruce to know that this is the one child he could have had that he could have seen grow up from stage 1. He could have seen first steps, first words, first laugh—instead, he was forced to retrain his boy to live a normal life. He had to make sure his baby wasn't forever scarred by what he had left him to go through.

The greatest shock of all to him is that he won't live forever.

One day, there will be no more Batman, no more Bruce Wayne. Some day, people will forget his name and his parents and the work he did. The League's members with a longer lifespan will find someone else to fill the space he leaves behind.

His kids will grow up and have children of their own, and his name will get lost in translation. Some day, people will only know his name by the bricks on buildings with Funded by Bruce Wayne etched on them.

Bruce Wayne—in all his intellectual capability and physical prowess, all his resilience and compassion— cannot stand forever, and he thinks that is the thing that haunts him the most.

So, he forces himself to love life as it is now. He'll call Dick and ask how life is, and bump into Jason at the library, and help Tim with cases, and take Steph shopping, and learn Arabic for Damian.

He'll do everything in his power to make the life he has last.

[ghost-bxrd]

(prev anon with another bad half formed prompt)

what if after the whole pit fiasco jason still gets trained by the league, and then decides that he was kinda done with the whole fighting stuff and gotham feels like home, so might as well get an apartment there, and time moves on and he gets a job and gets into uni or smth and everythings good, and then nightwing comes crashing into his apartment breaking his window and jasons already had kinda a crappy day so he just starts yelling because what the hell man? do you know how much that'll take to repair? my insureance wont cover that! and nightwing is just stuck staring at his grown up little brother whos supposed to be dead, and chokes out a "jason". and now jasons freaked out because he didn't remember telling him his name, and thens theres confusion and dick asks why he doesnt recognise him and jason says hes never met him before in his life, and suddenly dick is staring at his little brother who's alive, but who isn't his brother and he can feel his heart slowly rip in two.

Lmao Dick goes back crying to the family that he found Jason and that he’s ALIVE but he doesn’t remember anything and “Bruce, Bruce, he’s getting his degree. He got into uni. He’s— he’s happy—“

And Bruce (after confirming Jay’s identity) just starts leaving him huge cheques and visiting him under the cover of “scouting for young talents” and “scholarship programs courtesy of WE” and Tim shyly starts waiting for Jason at his favorite café to get to know him, and Dick skips “subtle” entirely and drops by every other day to have dinner with Jason or watch a movie.

Meanwhile Jason has to pretend to keep his cool and not give himself away (he likes his peace and quiet, thank you very much) and becomes progressively more guilt ridden with every instance he does something entirely mundane (reading a book, swearing like a sailor, cooking spaghetti) and Bruce or Dick begin tearing up.

[bats-and-the-birds]

I am thinking about the batkids and their rooms at the manor.

When Dick was first brought to the manor, Alfred put wooden letters that spelled out his name on the outside of the door to his room. He wanted the boy to feel like he belonged, and denoting the room as his seemed like the best way. At first, they spelled out "Richard", and were painted in red, green, and yellow -- the colors that his parents had worn for their circus act, that didn't have any other meaning yet. Dick pried them off the door and threw them away. He didn't want to accept that this was permanent yet. There were new letters on the door a few days later, blue this time, and spelling out "Dick" instead. Those letters got pried off much the same and shoved in a drawer, and they didn't get put back until a year later. He was too short to put them in the same place, so they ended up crooked, and Alfred found it too endearing to fix.

When he left the manor years later, he considered ripping the letters off the door and throwing them in the foyer on his way out. But he left them, and there they remained, crooked as ever.

Jason got his own letters when it became clear he wasn't going anywhere. He helped Alfred put them up on his bedroom door, standing on a step stool to make sure they got in the right place. His were evenly spaced and neatly aligned, and he refused to tell anyone that he cried over them that night. He'd spent months wondering if he'd ever live up to his predecessor, not just as Robin, but in the family as well. And now he had his own letters, just like Dick's, and they weren't going anywhere.

And they didn't. Even after he died. Bruce and Alfred both considered taking the name down to make walking past that empty room less painful, but in the end, they didn't dare touch the letters, just like they didn't touch anything else in the room. Years later, Jason would sneak into the manor through his old bedroom window and find his school uniforms still hanging in the closet, his textbooks on his desk, an open novel on his nightstand, and, of course, the letters still on the door, more of an epitaph than the one on his actual tombstone.

Tim fought for his name on a bedroom door. It took a while, but he trained, and he learned, and he forced himself into the role that he knew he could fill. Part of him thought that no matter how good and useful he made himself as Robin, he'd never really fill the role that the two before him did. He thought there might not be room for him after Jason's death, but he did it. He was older than the other two when Alfred finally put the letters up on his door, but he did it.

Later, when he left in search of Bruce, he didn't think for a second of taking his name down off his door. He'd earned it.

Damian's name got put up practically as soon as he got to the manor. He didn't think much of having his name on a door. If anything, it irked him a bit, being lumped in with the others, but it would have annoyed him more if he didn't get his own name. For a while, his name on the door, marking it as his from the hallway, was the only reason you could tell it wasn't the guest room that it had previously been. He had no photographs, had arrived with no personal affects.

That changed, eventually. As he gained friends, he also gained photos of them. He put up sketches and watercolor paintings of his animals. A dog bed got put on the floor for Titus. But the letters had been there from the beginning, and he grew to appreciate them eventually. His room, with the name on the door, was safe, and he liked it there.

Cass's letters showed up without much fanfare. They were simply there when she exited her room one day. "Cassandra" in black wooden letters that matched all of her new siblings'. She ran her fingers over them with reverence. She'd never been allowed to leave a mark before. Her life was predicated on being a shadow, but there was her name, in big letters, somewhere where other people could see it.

Steph had a room. She didn't want to admit it, but when she crashed at the manor, it was always in the same room. Her name was put up, and she took it down, and it was put up again, and she took it down again until it became something of a game between her and Alfred. If Steph was staying at the manor and Alfred didn't find a wooden S in a random cupboard, then have to search the house for the rest of her name, then he knew she was in a bad mood, and he usually made her favorite cookies and left them outside of the door with her name still firmly in place.

Duke's letters were waiting for him when he moved in. His name in bright yellow letters that matched his suit already in place. Of course it was, it's tradition at this point, and he's part of the family now. He had bounced around for a while now, and the letters on his door made him feel...calmer. It was a sense of permanence, and one he could learn to enjoy.

Barbara didn't need a room. She had her own room, in her own house, but Alfred still offered to mark out a space for her. She declined. When she did stay over, it was either in the cave or Dick's room, she didn't need her own. Still, that didn't mean her mark wasn't left somewhere. There was a study downstairs with a desk that she sometimes did her homework on as a child if she was staying over for the night. Now, the desk held a computer that was wired into the Batcomputer's network, a photo of her and her father, and, of course, tiny wooden letters affixed to the side that spelled out 'Barbara'.

[messenger-of-babel]

Just Like Him

Summary: When you argue with Jason, you slowly start seeing less of Jason Todd and more of Bruce Wayne. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: I legit came back home from a night out and sat here editing this till 3am cause I refused to miss a post haha. A little bit shorter due to that and I'll do a second look over it later. Only warning for this is mentions of violence as usual for most of these, and that it hasn't been as edited cleanly as usual. Tomorrow's post might be really delayed too since I've got events tomorrow too. Anyways, enjoy my Lovelies~! xx

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You had loved Jason. You did love Jason.

You loved the boy who was too awkward to hold your hand when you went out in public, who left you notes at your door when he was too frustrated and too pent up to explain himself properly. You loved his habits, his quirks, the way that he cooked you food if he knew he was going to be out for a few days, silently leaving it in the fridge in the hopes you’d keep yourself healthy.

You also loved the dark sides of him, the nightmares he woke up to, skin sticky with sweat. You loved him even when his eyes were lost in the darkness, unable to tell who you were exactly but still seeking the comfort of your arms to shield him. You loved him even when he tensed outside in public, a sound, a smell, setting him off and making him clench onto your hand. His eyes were scared, but you didn’t mind bringing him back into reality, letting him know that you were here for him. 

Yet on nights like these, you love for him faltered slightly. These were the nights that you couldn’t temper, the ones here he burned angrily and bit hard. He was currently pacing the kitchen, hands in his hair after a rough patrol. 

“You just don’t understand.” He murmured over and over. “Maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe you just never will. How could you even try to?” 

That hurt you, the way he talked like you weren’t even there. Like you weren’t in tears on the other side of the kitchen island. Like you hadn’t been having this argument for an hour how, sunset drinking its way into the dusk. 

This was the part of Jason that hurt you, the coarse side that snarled and growled at you like he was an injured dog. The side that looked at you with those striking green eyes narrowed into slits, who spat words like he’d never seen you before.

“I do understand Jason.” I you sigh. “You want to protect this city, you want to change Gotham, but don’t you dare tell me what I know or don’t, when I’m asking you to just be home more. Is it really that hard to protect the city and go out for a date?” You sigh, heart beginning to falter under the scrutiny of his gaze. “I know you can’t always be there. Neither can I, but please,” you say, folding your arms across your chest. “Please be there for me.”

“I am.” He groans back out, making a flicker of irritation spark in you. 

“Not you’re not.” You counter. “You leave dates, you leave dinners, you don’t come home some nights. No warning, no text, no notice.” You snap back.  “Being there for me is being at those dinners, going on those dates, coming home, spending time in bed with me.” You snap. "it's not cold sheets, cold food, cold feet on date nights. Step up."

He throws his hands up in the air, teeth clenched. "Can't you see I'm trying to save the city? trying to stop it from eating itself from the inside? You know its corrupted, you know about the violence. Hell, you got shot." he snaps back. His fists are tightly clenched by his side, eyes burning into yours. You stare back at him defiantly, and it makes the frustration in him rise.

He knows he's not good at words, knows that he's rough around the edges. The voice in his head tells him that when he sits up at night, when he finally comes home. His head leans back against the headboard whole you sleep peacefully beside him, rolled completely onto your side. His fingers twist in the sheets, as it speaks at him, tells him that he's not good enough to be with you. That the city isn't safe enough, that he needs to make it safer. He wasn’t the safest out of Batman's gang of protegees. He had a hit list that had started while he was just a young teenager and continued to have names added every other week. He'd been shot at, stabbed, thrown into and off of buildings, and that was something he was fine with. that was his job, his burden.

But when you got shot, that's when life really had caught up with him. It was like he had been living his life in slow motion up until that point, until it all rushed forward like a wave on double speed. He hadn't erven been there, halfway across town with Nightwing on some stakeout when he got the call. Dick had let him go without a word, merely watching him speed away on his bike before calling in backup from the cave to replace him. He didn't care that Bruce would get mad at him for abandoning his post, he could go to hell. What he cared about was you, and the fact that he hadn't been able to protect you, been able to stop it from happening. He heard about it only when the hospital called him, informing him that you were being prepped for surgery immediately.

How bad was it? Was it just one shot? Did it go cleanly through? Where were you hit? What calibre? What make? What model? Where did it take place?

Those were all questions that Red Hood might have been allowed to ask if he had worn the mask and marched through the emergency department, but he couldn’t do that. If he did it would be a giant target on your back, associating you with his vigilante life in the most obvious way possible. Instead, he had to race through the doors breathless as Jason Todd, the worried boyfriend who had to be held back by security trying to get to your ward.

 You had of course recovered, learnt to walk again on the leg that caught a stray bullet from a gang shoot out in Lower Gotham. It had been worryingly close to your artery, but you had pulled through. Jason couldn’t deny the fact that his status as a Wayne kid helped your care and the way the hospital aided your recovery. With a harsh word, Jason could have any of their licenses revoked.

That's why Jason did it. To make sure that the fear that gripped his heart that night never had the chance to wrangle him like that again. He'd fight night after night and come home with a string of broken and bloodied knuckles if it meant that you would be okay. It's all he can think about as he stares you down in the kitchen, watching your jaw twitch.

"Don't you dare use the fact that I got shot, against me." you seethe, hand coming up to point at him. "That wasn’t my fault, and it could have happened to anyone in the town, it's Gotham, Jason." you bite back, and he throws his hands up.

"That's exactly the problem! It's Gotham." he shouts. "You can get shot, or stabbed, or killed. Anyone can. one day you're here, the next you ain't. You really want to go out there, sweetheart? You got shot and you want to tell me not to clean the streets up? The sheets are cold? Well, they'd be a lot colder if you were dead." he spits back, and you are too stunned to say anything. You shake your head, a look of realisation coming over you.

"Oh my god," you breathe out. "you're just like Bruce. You’re no better."

That makes something in his freeze, halting all of his movements and shutting down his train of thought. You see it, see the way his bright green eyes widen and his head tilts slightly, making the white tuft in his hair flop over his eyes as you continue. "You're so obsessed with cleaning up the city. So obsessed with fighting out there that you can't give it up even for a second. You both can't. You criticize the man, tore him apart for his neglect just to do the exact same god damn thing.” Tears begin to prick your eyes in helplessness, lump building in your throat.

"You can’t see yourself out of that stupid helmet." you say, choking up as the tears clog your vision. "When was the last time that you read?" you ask, sniffling. "When was the last time you did a hobby, or rode your bike as a civilian? When's the last time we went on a date or held hands, or went to the park, or the library or anywhere?" you yell at him, hand coming to claw at your heart.

"When was the last time you were Jason?" you whisper softly. "Because right now, I feel like Jason Todd has died for a second time." you choke out. "Except this time, it wasn’t Joker who killed him."

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve while you leave him stunned, pushing past him to go into your bedroom. When the door slams harshly it snaps him out of the stupor he had found himself in, body swivelling on his heel immediately to follow you.

 You didn't respond to his soft knocking at the door, or his calls. You didn’t accept the apologies he murmured into the wood, didn't bother to listen to his promises or ways that he swore he could make it better. It was only when he began knocking desperately, worrying building, that you swung it open violently.

Your face is a mess, sticky with tears and chin wet. Your breath comes out in small hiccups as you try to collect yourself, still mid sob as you shout at him. "Couch." you seethe, your puffy eyes glaring at him with a hurt filled dagger before the door slammed in his face. He sighed, forehead against the wood before pushing off the door frame with a click of his tongue. He plops down onto the living room couch with a groan, legs thrown over the side to try and accommodate for his size. He raises an arm to cover his eyes, other arm grabbing a couch cushion and bringing it to his chest.

"You're just like Bruce, no better." rattled around in his skull, making him chew at his lip. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being compared to Bruce, even if he respected the man at times. He had come back, intending to be everything for others that Bruce had failed to be for him. Yet according to you, he was walking the same steps the man before him had traced.

Was he really no better than Bruce?

He groans and removes his arm from his eyes. He casts them over to the turned off TV, catching the sight of a much younger Robin peering back at him. With a smile the boy took off the domino mask and revealed the childish figure that was young Jason Todd. He raises a hand to his face as well, mirroring what he had just seen the reflection do. Except when he pulled his hand away, studying the digits instead of the TV screen, he could still see the remnants of the Hood he failed to leave at the door.

[luveline]

jade my lovely, i would kill for more early season spencer and bombshell!reader. i love them sm!! (i also love seeing the mentions of elle, like that’s my bbg)

“You aren’t still mad.”

You take a sip of your coffee and refuse to answer. 

Elle rolls her eyes. It’s unrestrained, as is her deep sigh. “Whatever.” 

You drink more coffee. Think about it, can’t contain it, “Whatever yourself, Greenaway.” 

“I want it just as bad as you do.” 

“But I’m better.” 

“You’re not better. You’re less likeable, there’s a difference.” 

You weren’t surprised when they chose Elle for the open BAU position, but you were gutted nonetheless. Pretending it doesn’t bother you comes easily, just not when she’s rubbing it in your face. “Can you leave that?” 

She hands over the stapler she’d been about to put in her cardboard. You don’t own one, and you decide to forgive her when she hands it to you without argument. “You want anything else?” 

“No, it’ll just remind me of you.” You sniff. 

“At least you’ll have an empty desk beside yours for a while. It’ll be good for your afternoon meditation.” 

“Hopefully, they’ll fill your absence with a very attractive new recruit.” You’d like that, a hottie to crush on. Now Elle’s leaving, you’ll have no one to project your fantasies on to make it through the work day. “How will you cope?”

“What, without you?” Elle asks. 

“With all the BAU hotties. Everybody on that team is maddeningly attractive,” you say with a put upon swoon, back of your hand curled and thrown to land against your forehead. 

“I didn’t realise you felt that way about Jason Gideon. Perhaps if you’d made that known, you’d be packing your desk up instead of me,” Elle laughs. 

“Well, maybe not Gideon. But the rest of them. Derek… if you take him seriously, he’s gorgeous. And Hotch–”

“He’s married. And older than us by ten years.” 

“He’s handsome, is what he is. So quietly funny and moody. I’m not telling you to ruin his marriage, I’m just saying he’s distracting.” 

“And Spencer Reid?” she asks. 

You grin. “He’s cute.” 

“Morgan said you asked him out for coffee?” 

“He wanted to tell me about water bugs.” It was sudden but sweet, he’d started a tangent on how they can walk on water because they’re small and hydrophobic, then asked if you really wanted to know, which you did. 

“He’s cute,” Elle says, raising her brows. 

“Have you seen him turn to the side? His jawline is ridiculous.” 

“He looks a little… dorky,” Elle says finally. She isn’t mean-spirited, just honest about her tastes. 

“I like dorks. And I really loved him, he was adorable. Derek’s been hazing him, so maybe you could be nicer? I think he really needs a friend.” 

“You don’t want to be that friend?” 

You smile. “I do. But I can’t exactly do that from Sex Crimes.” 

“Well, you can help me carry my stuff to the BAU. Come on.” 

“And look desperately needy? Is there anything worse than going where you’re not wanted?” 

“Morgan will be happy to see you. Maybe Dorky Spencer will be there to tend your BAU shaped wounds.” 

“You’re heartless, Greenaway.” 

You put your arms out obediently for her box. She grabs her jacket and her bag, gives her desk a last sweep, and turns away. It’s the last time she’ll ever sit at her desk in the Sex Crimes Unit, and it’s the most envious you’ve ever been of a friend. You want more than anything to be in her position. Profiling isn’t mythical to you, it’s a science you’ve studied, and you believe you could do it well if they just gave you time to learn on the job like they’ve done for Elle. 

But the position is filled. There’s no room left on the team. 

No need for a sex crimes expert now they’ve chosen Elle. 

You’re going to have to make yourself useful in other ways, or play politics, or, better, make friends. 

Hotch likes you, you know that, and Derek’s awesome. Gideon is the one you need to convince, but for some reason he’s totally sworn off of you. Luckily for you, he isn’t out in the BAU office when you enter, it’s just Derek, Spencer Reid, and Elle’s waiting desk. 

“Hi boys,” she greets. 

Derek turns. 

Spencer puts down his book. You meet his eyes. 

You’re far more flirty than Elle. “Hi, Derek. Hi, Dr. Reid.” 

Derek grins and takes Elle’s box from your arms. “Hi, girls. Happy moving day.” 

You don’t really want to talk about it, think about it, or come off as a jealous jerk, so you do a little bit of performance. “What are you reading?” you ask Spencer, pretending to be interested, hoping he’ll throw you a rope. You spot a familiar creature on the cover and your smile legitimises. “Is that about pond skaters?” 

“It’s Small Freshwater Creatures,” he says, shy but somehow firm, too. His tone changes as he relays facts. “It’s an identification guide, but it does talk about the specifics.”

“You really like bugs, huh?”

“I wanted to know more about it in case you came back.” 

You can’t help grinning. “That's really sweet,” you say earnestly, “did you learn anything new? You sounded like an expert already.” 

“They’re predators. They eat mosquito larvae.” 

“Oh, awesome, so if we had a few more pond skaters in the world we’d be better off.” 

You prop yourself on Spencer’s desk as he begins to rattle of facts and figures. Not too far away, Elle and Derek talk under their breaths. 

“Is it me, or is she into him?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe more than she realises.” Elle bites back a smile, stealing glances at you from over Derek’s shoulder. You’re more interested in what he has to say than anything she’s seen on you before. You lean in, your eyes bright. A little flirty, ever so slightly teasing, but genuine, too, as Spencer begins a quick spiel. 

“Well, he’s a goner,” Derek laughs. 

Elle doesn’t know about that. You don’t play with people’s hearts. 

There’s a teeny, tiny strand of shyness to you as you touch your neck. You begin rolling the chain links of your necklace along your finger, causing poor Dr. Reid to lose his train of thought. Two people entirely unaware of the road they’re embarking on. 

“Do you guys have a stapler?” Elle asks. “I lost mine in the divorce.” 

[timmydraker]

Tim’s parents demand a meeting with Bruce and their son himself to discuss the future of their company and Tim’s place in it. Everyone knows they probably want to get in on Bruce’s wealth and business so they might be able to go from millionaires to billionaires like Bruce.

To everyone’s surprise, Tim accepts and says he’ll do it as long as Bruce will stay with him the entire time.

Obviously Dick refuses not to and Damian insist as the ‘true heir’, which makes Jason want to as well just cause he’s not being left out. Duke promises to stay out of it and keep the girls busy so Tim doesn’t feel cornered or smothered in worry.

So, Bruce and his three sons sit on the meeting with Bruce doing most do the talking and Tim sitting on a chair with his brothers all keeping eyes on him.

Jack and Janet try to give pleasantries to their son but he just stared at them, a blank look that even Bruce can’t decipher if only because he’s never seen it before.

Jack does most of the talking, explaining that Tim still has a set aside amount of many and place in the company but that it’s only there because he’s kept the family name. They explain that they would be happy for Tim to take the Wayne name as long as their son gives up his legal place in the company and hands over his personal funds they gifted him willingly.

They subtly explain that they want him to continue to work with the as he works with WE extremely well, and that they could possibly become partners.

Tim would still be the co-CEO of WE as well as COF for Drake Industries but he must… ‘donate’ money to them regularly as a show of good partner ship.

Bruce is furious that they just want money and haven’t acknowledged their son or the fact that he just turned eighteen, but he remains calm and after almost twenty minutes of talking Dick cuts them all off.

“Perhaps-we could ask Tim himself what he thinks of this offer.”

The growing tension both settles and raises as everyone turns to Tim who is sitting like a statue.

He looks like he could be dissociating but there’s a distinct presence in his eyes like he doesn’t want to miss a single word or second.

Jack sits back and gives Tim a stern look, “Well, son? What do you say?”

Tim speaks in the same voice Bruce has heard him talk to clients he doesn’t like, “I’ll accept, I’ll even give my earnings from the company.” Just as Jack and Janet begin to look smug and his family members look shocked he adds, “on one condition.”

Janet looks at him like he’s the most vile creature ever and covers it with a forced smile as Alfred pours more tea for her as a means to appease the clearly nasty woman.

Everyone waits for Tim to state his condition but none of them are ready for when he looks his parents each in the eye and says in the calmest, most level voice the most shocking sentence nace they have ever heard from both Tim and Red Robin:

“I want you to kill yourselves.”

.

..

…

No one speaks.

Jason and Dick look genuinely afraid, Damian looks taken aback though not nearly as shocked as Bruce is with his jaw hanging low.

Alfred for the first time in his life serving the Waynes spills tea and looks at Tim in a way that shows he is genuinely aghast.

Janet and Jack are frozen looking at their son like he’s a different person, which is funny as that implies they knew he was before.

Tim doesn’t smile or gloat, he does nothing to suggest his words were one big joke or last ‘fuck you’ to them.

He sits still and patient, waiting for an answer.

Janet opens her mouth several times to speak but never gets any words out though Jack manages to get over his shock and fury crosses his face. He opens his mouth, most likely to yell or berate his son but Tim beats him to it.

“It’s your choice. I’ve said all I want, so kill yourself or leave.”

Tim picks up his own tea and watches as Jack and Janet storm out of Wayne Manner.

Silence prevails for a while with none of the family talking until Damian breaks the silence, “Holy shit.”

[yannawayne]

INJUSTICE 2 INTRO INTERACTIONS. batboys x villain! reader

SYNOPSIS: I have very specific and odd hyperfixiations. Warnings for typical blood and violence + suggestive flirting in Dick, Jason, and Tim.

-> BATMAN X ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! BATMOM -> NIGHTWING X CATGIRL! READER -> REDHOOD X AMAZON! JOKER'S KILLER! READER -> RED ROBIN X IVY! READER -> DAMIAN X FORMER ARRANGED L.O.A WIFE! BLIND! READER

──────── ⵌ GAME LOADING ...

-> BATMAN X ALTERNATE UNIVERSE! BATMOM

Bruce is transported to an alternate universe where you two were never in love and instead enemies. He can't bare to see what you might have become without him or his sons.

(Bruce slowly removes his cowl, revealing his pained blue eyes staring at you, filled with sorrow and longing.)

BRUCE: "You'd be proud of the men our sons have become."

(You tighten your grip on your sword, the knuckles turning white. For a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable crosses your face, but you quickly mask it with indifference. You shake your head and raise your blade.)

AU! BATMOM: "They mean nothing in this world."

(With a burst of speed, you launch yourself at him, the clash of metal on metal resonating through the night as your blade meets his defense. The force of your attack drives Bruce back a step, but he holds his ground.)

BRUCE: "In mine, they are everything because of you."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(A cloud of smoke erupts, obscuring the dimly lit alley as Bruce emerges from the shadows. His cape billows behind him, creating a striking silhouette against the flickering streetlights.)

BRUCE: "Our sons would never recognize you like this."

(You stand still for a moment, the sharp slice of blades cutting through the air as you flip them effortlessly. The sound is a whisper of danger. Your stance is guarded, eyes steely and cold, betraying no emotion.)

AU! BATMOM: "Good. I have no use for children."

(Bruce scowls, the harsh lines on his face deepening. He curls his hand into a fist, muscles tensing visibly under his suit, readying himself for the inevitable confrontation.)

BRUCE: "But every son deserves a mother’s love, no matter the universe."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce reaches into his utility belt with practiced ease, pulling out two Batarangs. He holds them firmly, the metal cool and reassuring in his grip)

BRUCE: "I can't look at you without seeing her."

(You lift your chin defiantly, a sharp smile playing on your lips.)

AU! BATMOM: "Ha! I am not your wife."

(Bruce frowns, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his weapons closer to his face, preparing to defend. He refuses to fight you.)

BRUCE: " "But you wear her face, and that’s enough to remind me of what I’ve lost."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce maneuvers the Batmobile with precision, stopping abruptly before flipping out and landing on the ground.)

BRUCE: "I see the pain behind your eyes. It's the same pain she hides."

(You huff, striding towards him with purpose. The sword at your hip sings as you draw it, the blade catching the light ominously.)

AU! BATMOM: "Don't presume to know me."

(Bruce stands straighter, his glare unwavering as he meets your gaze head-on.)

BRUCE: "I know her, and that’s why I can’t give up on you."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Bruce holds a photo in his hands, a photo of your family. His eyes soften as he looks at it, his grip tender despite the battle raging around him.)

BRUCE: "I dream of bringing her here to show you what you could be."

(Your back is turned against him, but you slowly face his way, the sound of your sword being unsheathed filling the tense silence.)

AU! BATMOM: "Dreams are for the weak."

(Bruce pockets the photo with care, then assumes a combat stance, his eyes never leaving yours.)

BRUCE: "No, they’re for the hopeful. And I will never stop hoping for you."

 ༻⊰───⋅ (Bruce grunts as your legs tighten around him, choking him. His face contorts with effort as he twists his body, managing to knock you off and get to his feet, breathing heavily.)

BRUCE: "In my world, you're my everything. Here, you're my nightmare."

(You walk off the fall and stand tall, your posture defiant and unwavering. A cold smirk plays on your lips as you step toward him.)

AU! BATMOM: "Dreams and nightmares are two sides of the same coin, Bat."

(Bruce braces himself, legs apart, muscles coiled like a spring, preparing for the inevitable clash.)

Batman: "I just wish I could flip it back."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> NIGHTWING X CATGIRL! READER

You've been playing this cat-and-bat chase ever since he was Robin. Now as Nightwing, he can't help but long for something deeper.

(You perch on a rooftop edge, your silhouette lit by the moonlight as you smirk down at him. Leaping from the edge, you flip gracefully through the air before landing in a crouch in front of him.)

CATGIRL: "You know, curiosity killed the cat."

(Dick steps towards you, pulling his escrima sticks from his back. He hits them together, producing a crackle of electricity that illuminates the smirk on his face.)

NIGHTWING: "Good thing satisfaction brought it back."

(Purring, you trail your claws down your chest, your eyes locked on his.)

CATGIRL: "Show me how you satisfy, Nightwing."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick whistles as he walks towards you in his police uniform, swinging handcuffs with his fingers. The polished badge on his chest glints under the bank’s dim lights.)

OFFICER! GRAYSON: "Why don't you switch sides? You'd make a great hero."

(You laugh and stalk towards him, not even bothering to avoid the tripwires in the bank. The alarms remain silent, disabled by your expert touch.)

CATGIRL: "A kitty in a cape? Not my style."

(Dick shakes his head, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he unlatches the handcuffs, the metal clinking softly.)

OFFICER! GRAYSON: "You could do so much good, you know."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Laughing, you knock Dick to the ground, but with a swift move, he rolls you over, tackling you to the side and straddling you with a grin.)

NIGHTWING: "I know all your weak spots."

(You feel the heat of his body against yours, but you twist from his grip, slipping out and flipping away to a safe distance. You land lightly on your feet, drawing your claws with a predatory smile.)

CATGIRL: "You think you can make me purr?"

(Dick smirks, his eyes glinting with challenge. He rolls his shoulders, the muscles rippling under his suit, and tosses his head back.)

NIGHTWING: "I’ll have you screaming my name."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick watches as you strut along the edge of a building, hips swaying with each step, your balance effortless. )

NIGHTWING: "You know, Blüdhaven could use someone like you."

(You toss your head back with a playful smile, bending before executing a flawless flip towards him, landing gracefully.)

CATGIRL: "What, their own version of Catwoman?"

(Dick’s expression softens, the playful smile fading from his face, replaced by a more earnest look. He steps towards you and twirls his escrima sticks in the air.)

NIGHTWING: "No. Another hero."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You flip yourself over a rooftop edge, your hair falling in loose waves as you look down at Nightwing's panting form from above.)

CATGIRL: "What's the matter, Nightwing? Can't handle a little cat-and-bat chase?"

(Dick grins and throws his head back to look up at you, exposing the strong line of his jaw. Beads of sweat trickle down his face and neck, glistening in the moonlight. With a slow motion, he tucks his batons back into his back.)

NIGHTWING: "Oh. I can handle a lot more than that."

(Smirking, you slip off the rooftop and land right in front of him with a thud. You purr as you step closer, lashing your whip around you.)

CATGIRL: "Prove it, and I might let you handle me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Snarling, Dick licks at the stripe of blood running over his lip. You saunter a few feet away, licking your canines, which are stained with his blood.)

NIGHTWING: "You know, we could stop all this fighting."

(You smirk and draw your claws, eyes narrowing into slits.)

CATGIRL: "And what would we do instead, loverboy?"

(Dick smirks and crosses his arms, giving you a tantalizing view of his biceps, the fabric of his suit straining slightly.)

NIGHTWING: "I have a few ideas. None of them involve clothes."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Dick speeds through the city on his motorcycle, the engine roaring beneath him. With a swift, fluid motion, he flips off the bike, landing perfectly on his feet. The bike crashes in the distance, a burst of sparks lighting up.)

NIGHTWING: "You keep running, but I’ll always catch you."

(You turn to face him, a sharp smile playing on your lips, a shiny new jewel glinting in your hand under the moonlight.)

CATGIRL: "Maybe I just like the chase."

(Dick rolls his eyes, a mix of exasperation and amusement crossing his face, before he drops into a fighting stance, tensed and ready.)

NIGHTWING: "How about we skip to the part where I pin you down?"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The jail cell door clanks shut as Dick locks you inside. You coo at him, reaching out to cup his cheek, but he knocks your hand away, his eyes filled with anger.)

NIGHTWING: "Every time you run, it feels like you’re slipping away from me."

(You frown and move away, slipping back into the shadows of the cell, the dim light casting eerie patterns on your figure.)

CATGIRL: "Running is all I know."

(Dick frowns, his hand tightening on the cold metal bars. His voice is filled with a deep, aching sincerity as he gazes into the darkness where you stand.)

NIGHTWING: "I just wish you'd run towards me instead."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> REDHOOD X AMAZON! READER

Wonder Woman's daughter, once a proud heroine, now an outcast from the League after you killed the Joker in a vengeful rage for your lover's death. You try to run, he doesn't let you.

(With a fierce cry, you bring your sword down in a powerful arc, slicing through your enemies. Blood sprays as you cut down your chasers, the ground beneath you becoming slick with the crimson evidence of your wrath. You turn around just in time to see Jason charging towards you.)

A: "Cease this. The League will hunt me down like an animal."

(Jason scowls, his expression dark as he cocks his guns and reloads his rubber bullets. He barrels into the fray, firing relentlessly and mowing down the wave of heroes coming after you.)

JASON: "They won’t touch you as long as I’m breathing."

(You spin, delivering a bone-crushing blow to an opponent's jaw, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone beneath your knuckles.)

A: "You can’t fight the whole League, my love! I’m a liability."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Jason frowns and reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into his arms. The battle still thrums in the air around you, but in this moment, it's just the two of you.)

JASON: "Don’t let B’s opinion define you."

(You knock him away with a fierce shove, drawing your shield up defensively. Your sword hangs by your side, stained with the blood of your enemies, the weight of it a reminder of your actions.)

A: "He’s your father. His scorn is a heavy burden to bear."

(Jason steps forward, dropping his guns. He cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him, his touch both gentle and firm.)

JASON: "To hell with what he thinks. I love you, and that’s what matters."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The two of you circle each other, eyes locked in their own battle. Jason's guns are pointed at you, his face twisted in agony.)

JASON: "I hate that your hands are bloodied for my sake."

(You drop your shield and sword, the clatter of metal echoing in the tense silence. Raising your stained hands, you step closer, showing him the blood that marks your skin.)

A: "I’d stain them a thousand times for you."

(Jason's eyes flicker with pain and frustration as he lowers his guns.)

JASON: "And I wanted to keep them clean."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(With a growl, you swing your sword at Jason, the blade whistling through the air. He ducks, rolling to the side and coming up with his guns aimed at you. You charge forward, deflecting his shots with your shield.)

JASON: "You think running away will solve anything?"

(You catch his leg with your shield, throwing him off balance before punching him in the jaw.)

A: "You don’t understand the price I’ve paid!"

(Jason wipes the blood from his lip, eyes flashing with anger and sorrow as he lunges at you.)

JASON:"I understand more than you think! And I’m here to help you!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You stand at the edge of a cliff, the wind whipping through your hair as you face Jason. Swinging your sword, you knock it against your shield, the clang echoing in the open air.)

A: "You think you’re man enough to stop me?"

(Jason scoffs as you lunge at him. He blocks your hit, twisting your arm behind your back and pulling you close.)

JASON: "I’ve got the scars to prove it."

(You twist out of his grip, using your strength to knock him to his back. You pick your shield back up, foot moving to press down on him.)

A: "Show me those scars up close."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You scream as you're thrown back with his kick, your back slamming into the wall. Gasping for breath, you watch as Jason reaches for your shield, which had been knocked away during the fight. He picks it up and walks over to you, dropping it to your feet.)

JASON: "They say love makes you do crazy things."

(You take the shield from him, your breath still heavy from the exertion. You stand tall, despite the pain coursing through your body.)

A: "Like taking a life for the one you love?"

(Jason's gaze intensifies, and he steps closer.)

JASON: "Like risking your heart for a broken soul like mine."

 ༻⊰───⋅

RED ROBIN X IVY! READER

Poison Ivy's protégé, you and Tim couldn't be more different. He thrives on technology and his man-made gadgets, while you draw your strength from the untamed power of the green.

(A large vine from above dips down, its lush, green leaves swaying gently as you perch on it. Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you look down at Tim.)

IVY: "You think you can handle all this greenery, techie?"

(Tim smirks, twirling a small device in his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the device emits a pulse, causing the vine to tremble and wither.)

R! ROBIN: "I’ve got a green thumb, but I'd rather get my hands on you."

(You slide down the vine, landing gracefully in front of him, your eyes narrowing. You summon a thick vine to wrap around his legs, but Tim's quick reflexes kick in as he flips over it, landing in a crouch.)

IVY: "Hm. Only if you promise to get dirty."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim steps closer, his expression softening as he activates his bo staff, the weapon extending with a mechanical whir. He swings it in a wide arc, deflecting the thorny vines you hurl at him.)

R! ROBIN: "You're not like her, you know."

(You scoff, crossing your arms as a cluster of flowers bloom at your feet. You raise your hand, sending a barrage of petals sharp as knives his way. Tim deftly spins his staff, creating a shield.)

IVY: "Who, Ivy? Maybe not yet."

(Tim's eyes soften, his grip on the staff loosening slightly as he steps closer.)

R! ROBIN: "And you don't have to be."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You pace around him, a vine curling up from the ground and snaking towards his feet. Tim notices and sidesteps, slashing at the vine with his staff.)

IVY: "Ever think about leaving the Bat?"

(Tim frowns, his bo staff sweeping down to cut the vine before it can ensnare him.)

R! ROBIN: "Ever think about leaving Ivy?"

(You grin, a sly smile playing on your lips as you summon a wall of thorns behind him. He leaps backward, landing nimbly on top of the thorns, balancing effortlessly.)

IVY: "Touché."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim looks around at the flourishing plants, his staff humming with energy as he uses his tech to scan for weaknesses in your creations.)

R! ROBIN: "I see you've been busy with your plants again."

(You gently caress a leaf, your voice soft as a tendril wraps around his ankle. He quickly discharges an electric shock from his staff, causing the tendril to release him.)

IVY: "They listen better than people do."

(Tim's staff whirls, cutting through the tendril effortlessly as he advances.)

R! ROBIN: "Maybe you just need the right person to listen."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper as he disarms a trap you set with a quick twist of his wrist. He flips over another set of vines you send his way, landing in a crouch.)

R! ROBIN: "Your touch brings life to these plants."

(You raise an eyebrow, intrigued as flowers bloom around you. You step down from your vine and saunter toward him.)

IVY: "Imagine what it could do to you."

(Tim smiles, a challenge in his eyes as he deactivates his staff, stepping closer.)

R! ROBIN: "I’m willing to find out."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim walks towards you, engrossed with the device on his wrist, tapping on the holographic table that hovers above it.)

IVY: "What’s a techie like you doing in a place like this?"

(Your voice coos at him as you emerge from the ground, vines whipping all around you. Tim smirks and turns his attention back to you, the holograph shutting off.)

R! ROBIN: "Looking for a beautiful flower to pick."

(You smirk, your vines thriving in the light as you swipe at him, narrowly missing. He ducks and rolls, coming up with a blade ready. Scoffing, you trace a hand up your neck, your eyes narrowing with playful menace.)

IVY: "Just make sure you can handle the thorns."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Tim reaches out, brushing his fingers against a blossom, his staff ready at his side as he keeps an eye on you.)

R! ROBIN: "We could build something beautiful together."

(You shake your head, a hint of sadness in your voice as you create a protective barrier of foliage around yourself. Tim uses his tech to create a small opening, stepping through it.)

IVY: "Beautiful things always wither and die."

(Tim takes your hand, squeezing it gently as he deactivates his staff, the barrier of foliage parting around you. He pulls you closer, his voice soft and earnest.)

R! ROBIN: "Not if we tend to them with care."

 ༻⊰───⋅

-> DAMIAN X L.O.A! READER

Arranged to marry since birth by Talia, Damian had promised to be yours for life. However, after his betrayal of the League, he left you behind. You were labeled as a co-conspirator, and as punishment for his treason, you were blinded.

(Blades glint under the dim light as you twirl your fan, the air around you whistling with its sharp edges. Damian stands a few feet away, his katana ready in his hand, emerald eyes fixed on you.)

DAMIAN: "Has my mother sent you?"

(You laugh and throw your head back in disbelief. The cloth wrapped around your eye flows in the wind. Raising a hand, you slip it off and show him your empty eyes.)

L.O.U: "Do I look like her pawn? Do you not see what she has done to me? This is my kill, not hers."

(Damian's eyes narrow, his stance shifting as he prepares to engage. )

DAMIAN: "Then why do you hesitate?"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You feel the rush of air as Damian's katana swings towards you. Instinctively, you duck and counter with a sweeping arc of your fan, sensing his presence.)

L.O.U: "You walked away from everything."

(Damian's footsteps echo as he moves swiftly, his voice carrying a note of deep regret.)

DAMIAN: "Only to realize everything is you, habibti."

(You pivot on your heel, using your heightened senses to track his position, your fan poised to strike again.)

L.O.U: "Fool! You think words can mend this?!"

 ༻⊰───⋅

(The sound of his breath and the shuffle of his feet guide you as you launch a series of rapid strikes. Damian blocks each one, his katana creating a rhythmic pattern against your fan. Finally, he pushes his blade against yours, locking it between his fist.)

DAMIAN: "Beloved, losing your sight... I did not know my mother... I cannot even imagine—"

(You lash out with your fan, the blades narrowly missing Damian’s face as he parries with his katana. You both step back, circling each other, the tension between you palpable.)

L.O.U: "I do not need your pity, bastard!"

(Damian's eyes harden, but his voice remains soft.)

DAMIAN: "Not pity. Guilt. And a desperate need to make things right."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You leap forward, your fan spinning with deadly precision. Damian blocks the first strike but then purposefully drops his katana, stepping into your range. You scoff, surprised, as he grabs your wrist and forces you to drop your fan.)

L.O.U: "You think your guilt means anything to me?"

(Damian's movements falter for a brief moment, his voice raw with emotion. You kick and scream against his chest so hard he felt as though there would be bruises but he could care less.)

DAMIAN: "It tears me apart every day."

(You pull back, freeing your wrist and shifting into a defensive stance, your voice dripping with bitterness.)

L.O.U: "Good. Now you know a fraction of my pain."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Without your weapons, you both engage in a flurry of hand-to-hand combat. Damian blocks your strikes, deflecting your blows with minimal force, showing his reluctance to hurt you.)

DAMIAN: "Our marriage was more than a strategy to me."

(You laugh, a harsh sound, as you aim a kick at his midsection. He catches your leg and gently sets it down.)

L.O.U: "Yes. It was a lie."

(With a scream of anger, you tackle him, but he twists mid-fall, using his momentum to pin you to the ground. You struggle beneath him but he leans closer, his breath warm against your ear.)

DAMIAN: "No, it was the most real thing I've known."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(Wind whirls as you scream and hurl your fans in his direction. The blades spin through the air, nearly striking him, but he dodges with a series of agile flips. Laughing haughtily, you reach for your dagger in your belt.) L.O.U: "What do you desire, Habibi?"

(You advance on him, your steps swift and deliberate, knives dancing between your fingers. You hear a thud as Damian lands back on his feet with a grunt.) DAMIAN: "You. Only you."

(You scoff and fling another fan at him. He sidesteps and deflects it with his katana, the blade slicing through the air with a sharp hiss. Undeterred, you rush forward, using your heightened senses to anticipate his next move. Your fan blades clash against his katana in a shower of sparks.) L.O.U: "Then come and claim me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

(You sit on a stone bench in the garden of his new home. Wayne Manor, he had said. The night air was cool against your skin. Footsteps echo as Damian approaches, his katana sheathed at his side. He sits beside you, his gaze filled with longing.)

DAMIAN: "I dreamt of you every night."

(You scoff and trace the edge of your fan, the blades cool under your fingers.)

L.O.U: "Did you dream of my pain as well?"

(Damian’s expression turns into anguish, his hand reaching out to cover yours. A thumb moves to caress the metal band on your finger.)

DAMIAN: "Yes, and it’s unbearable."

 ༻⊰───⋅

ive been playing this damn game and mk1 for dddays

[ms-dead-inside]

Okay, but hear me out:

Murder baby Damian, but for whatever reason, his first attempt at Tim's life is put on pause, so they never have that interaction. Instead, before Damian can come up with a new plan, Tim (who's kinda excited he now isn't the baby of the family) offers to train him in detective work for when Damian finally gets the mantle of 'Robin' as a way to bond with him.

"Why train your enemy, Drake?"

"We're brothers, not enemies. Besides, Robin has always been a mantle to pass down. I'm certainly not going to keep it in my twenties or thirties. And other than Bruce, I'm the best detective in the family."

"Very well, Drake, I shall accept your tutelage for the time being."

Damian accepts, of course. Not only can he study Drake for his weaknesses, he will also improve his own skill set. It's worth the wait for Robin. By the time Damian's done, there will be no doubt that he is the superior bat.

Unfortunately, he actually grows fond of Timothy. While he will inevitably get close with Richard, just like in canon, Timothy is a breath of fresh air for when Richard is being too overbearing, especially when it comes to things like 'socializing,' and 'making friends.'

When his father dies, and Timothy declared him actually lost to time, Richard doesn't believe him, can't believe him, because the hope is too painful. Timothy still gives Damian Robin, because, "I'm barely holding on as Batman as it is. I can't handle Robin being gone for potentially months at a time, halfway around the world."

During his partnership with Richard, truly becoming his brother-son, Richard introduces the ideas of pets to him. Damian loves animals, and having and taking care of a creature that could potentially survive on its own, but will have a much better quality of life under his care, speaks to him. He has Alfred and Titus and about half a dozen other stray animals that usually stay for about a week while he nurses them to health at any given moment, but he feels like he should officially have another pet.

Que the whole thing with his grandfather, and Timothy getting kicked out of the top of a skyscraper. He comes home with proof, and the Justice League brings his father home. And as Dick basically refuses to let anyone leave the mansion for the foreseeable future, Damian realizes several facts:

1.) Timothy is a human, and humans are animals.

2.) While Timothy has somehow survived until now, he wouldn't recognize self-care if it slapped him in the face.

3.) Timothy's quality of life will improve if someone is taking care of him because he cannot be trusted to do it for himself. (Is it a coincidence that he loses organs when he is away from the family? Damian thinks not.)

4.) Damian has gotten good at taking care of animals.

Ergo, Timothy is now Damian's pet. Tim doesn't know what to do and simply humors him. Besides, it's nice when someone actually bothers to give him a plate of foods that he likes when he gets hyper focused on work and forgets to eat. That, and while he is exasperated every time Damian tranqs him, those are still the best sleeps of his life.

Jason finds it hilarious. Damian doesn't understand Richard or his father's reactions.

"Damian, Tim can take care of himself."

"Barely. Father, now that I am in charge of his sleep schedule, there aren't as many dark circles under his eyes. Even Alfred has commented that Timothy consumes less caffeine."

"Damian, he can't be your pet."

"Why not?"

"Tim's your brother; he's family."

"So are you saying that Alfred and Titus aren't family?"

[keys-hellscape-1020]

Sharing a Blunt with them

A/N: I honestly feel like out of all of them Tim would be the only one to smoke butttt this is fiction and I do what I want so I hope you all enjoy. Also I went to my first ever county fair today and I got licked by a cow. I can die happy now.

Dick Grayson x gn!reader, Jason Todd x gn!reader, Tim Drake x gn!reader

Content warnings: Weed, descriptions of getting high, Jason’s and Tim’s get smutty (my bad), oral sex (but it’s not detailed)

————

Dick Grayson

So this man would only get high if he’d been with you for a while. At first he out right refused to do anything with you, which you had respected. Over time however he sees how it affects you and he gets… curious.

It’s a lazy Saturday evening, Dick had gotten some of his many siblings to cover his patrol for him so he could take the night off with you. He’s watching you roll a blunt when he speaks so softly you can barely hear him.

“Could I try it?” He asks softly, watching the way you roll the paper with practiced precision.

You blank for a moment, stopping your movements as you glance up at him. When you’d first gotten together he’d been adamantly against doing it, and yet here he was… asking for a hit.

“Sure.” You say softly as you finish rolling it. You reach for a lighter and let the flame lick against the end of the blunt. You take a small hit and exhale into the air above you before passing the blunt to Dick.

“You ever hit anything before?” Dick shakes his head dumbly, like all thought had left his brain just from thinking of getting high.

“Alright.” You say as you gently guide his hand, and thus the blunt, towards his mouth. “Just suck on it like a straw for a half second, and then take a deep breath in.”

He hesitates a moment, looking at you for confirmation. When he gets it in the form of a gentle nod from you he follows your instructions and inhales carefully.

You wait a moment before pulling his wrist back, not wanting him to get to high right off the bat. You watch as he exhaled shakily, hesitating a moment before keeling over in a coughing fit. “Shit, sorry baby I forgot to warn you about the coughing.” You exclaim, rubbing his back gently in an attempt to soothe him. “You’ll be okay. Just breathe through it babe. Just breathe.”

It takes a few moments but he does stop coughing, and when he sits up he has a slightly glassy look in his eyes. “Holy shit.” He mummers. “I didn’t think that’d do anything.”

You can’t help but laugh gently as you take another hit, still gently rubbing his shoulder. “You okay baby?” You ask as you exhale, smoke billowing out of your mouth as you speak.

He nods, gazing upon you in what seems to be awe. “I uh- I really didn’t think that’d do anything.” He repeats and he leans forward to rest his forehead against your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair as you finish off the rest of the blunt, Dick sitting still against your side.

As you finish off the blunt and toss the end into a nearby ash tray you carefully refocus your attention on the pile of vigilante that’s glued to your side. “You sure you’re okay baby?” You ask carefully, getting a half awake nod in response.

In the future when Dick gets high with you it goes much the same, he takes one, maybe two hits and he is out for the count. He gets clingy and touchy while high, not capable of doing much outside of craving skin contact and rambling about how pretty you are. Give him some water and don’t leave him alone until he’s more or less sober again and he’ll be just fine.

Overall, as long as you know what you’re doing, 7/10 to share a blunt with.

————

Jason Todd

This man has gotten high before, but he only does it once in a blue moon when he’s really stressed and his options for stress relief are either getting high or brutally killing someone. He knows it’s not healthy, but that’s never stopped him before. And besides, he still feels it’s better than the alternative.

I feel like the first time you get high with him would be on a stormy night, you’re lounging in bed in one of Jay’s T-shirts and a pair of sleep shorts. You’re on your phone, waiting until your common sense kicks in and tells you to put it down and go to sleep.

You’re lazily scrolling when you jump out of bed due to the sounds of crashing, stomping, and cursing coming from your living room. You carefully creep down your dimly let hallway, the baseball bat you keep under your bed gripped tightly in your hands.

You visibly relax at the sight of Jason in your living room, Red Hood helmet thrown on the floor and fiddling with something in his hands.

“You’re back early.” You say softly, resting your baseball bat against the wall as you walk behind him, resting your hands on his leather-clad shoulders.

He makes a vague grunt of acknowledgment at you and you peer over his shoulder to see what he’s doing. You stare in shock when you see him rolling a blunt.

“Uh, you gonna smoke that Jay?” You ask blankly, your grip on his shoulders loose in shock.

“Well I’m not messing with this shitty paper for fun.” He grunts quietly, laser focused on what his hands were doing.

You hop over the back of the couch to land next to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch him finish rolling the blunt, light it, and take a long drag. He exhales deeply before offering it to you.

You take the blunt and take a drag before passing it back to him. “Didn’t know you smoked Jay.” You mumble, pressing yourself against his side. He responds by leaning against the back of the couch with a groan, wrapping his arm around your shoulder while man-spreading shamelessly.

“Not normally.” He explains as he takes another hit. “But people were being fucking stupid today.” As he speaks his arm tightens around you slightly

You let out a hum of acknowledgment as he hands you the blunt, taking another hit as you look him up and down thoughtfully. “I could help take your mind off that.” You comment, already moving to lower yourself between his meaty thighs.

If this man is getting high, you know he’s very stressed. Give him some sloppy head and let him rut into you tiredly to help take his mind off it.

Overall 8/10 to get high with.

————

Tim Drake

Now this man is a whole different story, this man gets high at least 3 times a week. He comes home from a hard patrol? He’s pulling out a cart and taking a blinker before researching his latest case (he’s a firm believer he does his best work while blasted).

You want to spend a night in and get high? Sign him the fuck up. He’s not really a fan of blunts, he says they’re too much work, but he only gets the best of the best quality carts.

He’s fun to get high with too, he’ll lay across your lap, eyes tinged red as he takes another hit and coughs out a laugh before going on a rant about moth man and how he’s about 47% certain that’s he’s real. Say anything that vaguely sounds like a contradiction and he’ll launch into a rant about how you’re supposed to be on his side (all the while practically trying to bury himself in your skin).

Oh and you’ll be in for a long night if you get clingy while high. You lightly run your finger tips over his hip bone, trace a finger nail over the muscle of his arm, practically anything, and the next thing you know you’re on your back, your pants are nowhere to be seen, and you’re getting head so good you’re seeing stars. Tim normally has something to prove, Tim while high sees nothing wrong with showing you just why he’s the best. And if you can barely walk tomorrow? Well that’s just an added bonus.

You should definitely get high with Tim if given the chance, he’s bound to make you laugh and otherwise enjoy yourself. But whatever you do, make sure you have no plans tomorrow morning.

Overall 10/10, hope you don’t like walking cause you won’t be doing much of it.

[k2ntoss]

doing a part of the request my fave jason simp, 🦊 anon, made some time ago AND THAT I FEEL BAD FOR REPLYING UNTIL NOW

so writer's block who? i just needed a sex and the city episode to pull out this so here we fucking GO

it's been quite a while since sleeping on jason's place is a regular thing, not only sleeping but spending time there on his free time watching him cook or just sit together to read a book. it's by far the best feeling ever because even if he isn't fucking you into oblivion during the night being by his side feels just right.

despite everything being so perfect and nice there are some boundaries he isn't letting you cross yet and the reason? explained properly and understood by you, he was trying to make sure you'd be safe without anyone finding a way to get to you and hurt you wanting to hurt him with it. that meant not leaving personal stuff on his place, it was risky to let you spend so much time around but he couldn't resist it, jason loved being able to have his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he read on the couch, leaning in every now and then to kiss your cheek.

the room was still dark, it was early when you had started to wake up from your slumber to squirm under jason's arm that was holding you tight against his chest as he nuzzled his face against your back, the feeling of you wanting to escape his grip makes him drag you more into his embrace and a soft grunt leaves his throat when he finds himself unable to bury his face into your hair "where are you going, ma?" he asks, still more asleep than anything as jason still has his eyes closed.

"i need to get ready, love" the reply reaches him and even with that information jason refuses to let go of off you, his arms now wrapped around your hips as you try to get out of his bed, dragging with you the sheets for a whole second before you almost fall from the bed "jay, i really, really need to leave the bed..."

"but it's still dark, you can't leave yet... i want to sleep a little more and i want you here with me" the smile that reply steals goes missing for him, poor guy is still almost fully asleep but he clings onto you for dear life even knowing you probably have something to do during the day before he's able to hold you again "just one more hour. then you're free to go, angel"

"i need that hour to get ready, jaybird" you chuckle, shifting a little under his arm as you try to push it away from you and when you finally escape the death grip jason has on your body the lazy walk to the bathroom is filled with the guilt of leaving him all alone to get ready for something that wouldn't be as nice and warm as your lover's embrace. picking up your clothes and stuff to get ready you rethink and the final choice is clear as water, that much you don't even realize when you started to lift the comfy sheet to push jason a bit "you win... i'll stay here"

the fact that jason isn't fully awake makes his pretty smile even prettier because he scoots a little with his arms ready to hold you again and once you lay back on his bed he leans in to kiss your lips and almost as if sleepiness was contagious you found yourself kissing him back and ready to drift back into your dreams where just like in the waking, you'd stay into jason's arms. hiding your face against his neck, arms wrapped around his torso and one leg drapped over his hips it's nice and warm to feel his big hand caressing your thigh softly as his lips kiss tenderly your neck making you smile widely.

there's a sweet sense of intimacy on his touch and even if the tiredness washes over both of you, jason's hands are now holding your hips to press you against his body and between soft and tender kisses, his hands and yours start to pull off the little amount of clothes you used to sleep. his practiced hands run sweetly over your skin, undoing the clasp of your bra and taking it off while your hands pull up his shirt, fingers gently caressing his scars as he kissed a trail across your jaw.

"you're just so pretty..." jason's gruffy voice makes you shiver and under the sheets his body is pressed flush against you, his hands holding your waist as he rolls his hips against yours as if testing waters and there's nothing that would make you leave his side. not now, not ever.

"i love you so much, red..." you mutter against his chin, letting out a breathless moan when he's able to push into you, his movement is anything but hard. he takes his sweet time to settle between your inner walls, letting out a soft groan accompanied by a content smile when you wrap your arms around his neck to snuggle against him.

"love you too, ma" he whispers against your temple, he has his eyes closed as he enjoys the warmth you provide and he knows that even in the dark place his life is you're everything he will ever need. with a soft sigh he starts moving, slow strokes as he holds onto your hips while muttering sweet nothings into your ear.

the whole room is filled with the tenderness of the moment, silent gasps and soft moans as he held you as if you could break if he got too rough. your lips peppering his jaw and cheeks in soft kisses as he rolls his hips into you making your breath hitch everytime he hits that sweet spot and the chill of the morning feels like something so strange because your morning is sweet and warm while jason is by your side.

time seems to go by slower, lips swollen from the kissing to drown the soft grunts and to delay everything a little more until you feel jason's slow strokes faltering before he spills himself inside you, drawing a soft moan from your lips as your own release washed over you making your body clench around his in a delicious grip. the room is now filled with nothing besides the soft pants of your breathing, his hands caressing soothingly your waist as you nuzzled your face against his neck.

"can't you stay here today? i don't feel like letting go of my pretty princess" jason asks quietly, his voice is still a bit gruffy and he looks sleepy despite what you just did. it's impossible to leave him like this, shiny eyes and messy hair, looking happy finally because he had his little world into his arms.

[pinkhoodi]

bat dads or girl dads ? girl dads !

✎ᝰ — bat boys as girl dads !

♡⃕ — bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd x reader

♡⃕ — genre + warnings: fluff + children ??

♡⃕ — a/n: dick as a father would make me- nvm that !

꒰ BRUCE WAYNE ꒱

Ꮺ “no” rarely exists and he realized that a while ago. when his beautiful daughter was first born, he would be stern (still loving) and make sure to deny any of his daughter’s requests. as years go and his daughter gets older, it becomes harder to say no to his precious child

Ꮺ he won’t admit it but it’s something about her adorable features that make it harder and harder to say no. even if it’s the most wildest request, he’ll try to accomplish it or tell her “I’ll think about it”. the cute pout, the ways her eyes widen, and her adorable going please please please dad. how can he say no :(

Ꮺ BUT if he can’t obtain that request, his favorite excuse is “I’ll think about it”. even when his daughter catches onto his games, he’ll continue use it and just throw on an extra lie to help out

Ꮺ bruce is the dilf that everyone flirts with and it’s exhausting for him. he tries to avoid pta meetings at all costs but can’t cause his daughter loves those meetings. while the women flirt, the daughter gets free cookies ;p

Ꮺ this man bruce is studying long and gruesome hours on how to raise a girl. raising his eldest son at ten years old is the closest thing he had and it wasn’t helping. prepare yourself for the “am I doing this right?” “is this good for her?” “are you sure this is what we should give her?”

Ꮺ surprisingly, he became quickly accustomed to his bat cave and his office being glittered and glammed. the buttons on the monitor have stickers and his batmobile having a bow on it

Ꮺ learning from his mistakes from his other children, he will try to leave little to no detail about his night activities to his daughter. she knows about the bat cave (due to exploring and being bored in the mansion) but he refuses to take her on missions and don’t allow her to be in the bat cave if the mission is extremely dangerous

Ꮺ daddy-daughter days is something bruce prioritizes! he doesn’t care what is planned before or after that, he’ll make one day every month to spend time with his daughter. whether it be going to the mall, the movies, spending the day at a kids play center, or even napping. that day in his calendar is meant for his daughter and his daughter only

꒰ JASON TODD ꒱

Ꮺ the most laidback father you could ever meet BUT he knows when it’s time to be concerning and when it’s time to be the fun dad

Ꮺ the man almost passed out when his gorgeous daughter was born. he couldn’t take how adorable his lil girl was in the room, he had to step out and started crying. he couldn’t believe he’s a father now :(

Ꮺ it does take jason time to adjust being a father. his patience isn’t the best but he is learning ! he tries as much as he can to unpack all his bad qualities and become better for his daughter before she was born

Ꮺ as much as he is laidback, he is also very cautious and makes sure to have all his weapons away and locked up from his daughter. he refuses to let ANY incident happen just cause he was being careless

Ꮺ he is one to always allow his daughter to decorate his face, no matter how ridiculous he looks. he’ll gladly pose with stickers on his eyelids, three bows on his head and one tied on his wrist, and heart glasses on if it makes his daughter happy

Ꮺ his daughter is lowkey his mood maker. he won’t admit but however his daughter feels is how HE feels. but he won’t take it out on her, absolutely not ! if she’s grumpy, he’s grumpy with her. she’s hungry ? he’s hungry as well. even if he’s feeling fine, he’ll play along with her so she can get what she want from YOU (mischievous mfs mmcht)

꒰ DICK GRAYSON ꒱

Ꮺ the most girliest dads of all girl dads <333. he’s there for any and everything and is NEVER one to say no to his daughter. though sometimes he doesn’t realize when to be a disciplined dad and a fun dad

Ꮺ he’ll make sure to never, and I mean never, have his daughter follow into the life that he is in. as much he enjoys saving gotham and bludhaven, he refuses to let his daughter lead into a life of danger and being unsure of whether or not he’ll be home soon

Ꮺ he has an endless amount of pics of him and his daughter. his lockscreen is you and him holding her at six months old, his homescreen being his daughter at one years old, and even his voicemail is him and his daughter saying hi and sorry to miss your call

Ꮺ being a dad is something dick cherishes so much and he’ll gift everything his child wants and more. he’ll do any and everything to have his daughter be happy, even if he can’t get it

Ꮺ between him and his daughter, the exchanges of “I love you dad” and “I love you more” happen more on his side. many “I love yous” as the two of them giggle and he kisses her forehead. they’re so cute :(

Ꮺ unlike bruce, he loves going to pta meetings. he does get uncomfortable with the flirting from other moms but he’s really only there for the free treats and how to better improve his daughter’s education

Ꮺ the biggest gift giving dad as well ! he likes coming home with a surprise in his hand and hearing his daughter gasp and smile at the gift in his hand. it warms his heart when she says thank you and hugs his leg tightly, nearly squeezing it with the gift in her hand

Ꮺ the two nap a lot together. it’s one of dick’s favorite pastime when he’s relaxing with crime fighting

♡⃕ the bat boys as girl dads ☹️🫶🏽. it would be uber cute seeing jason walk into his helmet decorated in barbie stickers

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: 2 thessalonians 3:3

© 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟦 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗂. 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽

[jokingmisfit]

A Bat Who... (NSFW)

Dick Grayson a bat who...

Who needs constant physical contact and never feels like it's enough so during sex he touches everywhere and anywhere constantly.

Who will suck on your sex like it's a pacifier.

Who's sex drive and stamina are so unbelievably high that he's decommissioned you for several days before.

Who loves any and all positions and will try them out with you.

Who really loves when you call him Nightwing in bed or officer because he loves the power dynamic.

Who traps you in his arms and wraps you tightly closely to him every time despite the position.

Who talks so dirty and so sweetly at the same time.

"So fucking sweet for me... Ugh... Come on baby get louder for me, I'm gonna fuck you still you forget your own name~"

Jason Todd a bat who...

Who loves how much bigger he is than you.

Who loves to manhandle you, but is so gentle while doing it. Giving the illusion of roughness, but he's actually using controlled gentleness.

Whose hands cover your entire sex, or ass, or neck.

Who treats you like royalty the entire time he fucks you, telling you how good you are for him.

Who never stops thinking about your body against his so he'll have you warm his cock or pin you to a wall or bends you over.

Who refuses to tell you no when you beg for him in bed.

Who will leave all the marks he possibly can on your body without remorse.

"Look at you sweetheart, so fuckin' tight. Could fuck ya forever... Mmm, that's it take it all so fuckin' good~"

Tim Drake a bat who...

Who will record you so he can watch you more later.

Who talks so much you think he might already be drunk on sex.

Who can and will analyze every move, noise, or face you make and tell you every deduction he's made.

Who makes sure you tell him everything so he can always give you exactly what you want.

Who gets so caught up in work, but the minute you mention sex he's all over you.

Who loves when you send him pictures or videos.

Who can and will make you cum five times or more before stopping.

"I could watch you all day, you look so pretty for me... All laid out, I'm gonna make you feel so good~"

Damien Wayne a bat who...

Who doesn't make much noise but surprisingly praises you the whole time.

Whose soft and rough with every movement he makes.

Who will sometimes fuck you in front of the giant mirror in his room just so he can see every angle.

Who sensually feels every part of you.

Who lays you down with care or roughly pushes you to it when upset.

Who will be very blatant with what he wants from you no matter where you're at.

Who will always put your pleasure over his own.

"So beautiful... Would you like more beloved? Oh, you're so precious~"

[e-nonsense]

Dahlia with String then Burlap plsss

What about him and the reader being lovers in highschool. After his death ,the reader went mad and stuck at the age of 15 when he was still alive. After he got back,he visits her everyday since he believed there is still a way to get his girl back 😭

COME HOME TO ME

pairing. jason todd x reader

warning. angst to fluff, character death + revival, age regression, reader in a psych ward

a/n. i really liked this prompt thank you

“hey baby,” jason whispered, his hand on the glass separating the two of you, oh how he wished he could break this down and take you home. but he knows that you wouldn’t react well to being taken.

you don’t reply, your eyes are staring forward. they’re so dull now, not like the girl he loved when he was younger, his girl.

you’re wearing one of the hoodies he left here for you. you may not recognise his face and voice but you’d never forget the way he smelt, you used to tease him for the pine smell but now it was all you had left of him.

“baby,” jason calls out again, a little louder this time. “come on, doll. look at me, it’s me. it’s jay.” jason wants to cry, he wants you back, he wants you home, his voice is pleading, there’s a lump in his throat when you finally look at him.

you shake your head at him, “you’re not my jay.”

jason feels like he’s dying again, it feels the same. he feels like he’s dying inside, the breath leaving his lungs, eyes closing and he can hear that bomb again. the maniacal laughter of the bastard that killed him, the sound of his skull cracking under the force of the crowbar.

because he’s not really your jay, is he? no, he knows he isn’t. that boy died a long time ago, but jason can be jay, because you need jay, not jason.

“yes i am, baby.” it’s me, doll.

when did baby turn to doll, he wonders. another sign that he’s changed.

“look at me, really look at me.”

and you do you look into his green eyes— green? that can’t be right, jay’s eyes were an icy blue you adored dozing off to. but there is something familiar in the way this man looks at you, like you could massacre cities and he’d still love you.

but he can’t be jay, your jay died.

you shake your head again, turning away from him to curl up on the bed — jason has to remember to say thanks to bruce for getting you somewhere that takes care of you — to hide from him.

“baby don’t go,” he whispers.

this was routine by now, everyday for the last three months he came here. to sit by the glass that separates you from him. and everyday you do the same thing, refuse to believe him.

“baby, don’t you remember me? remember that day we snuck into the theatre, in the roof and took out that part of the ceiling so we could watch? and you said—”

“—we’re like ninjas.”

a smile crosses his lips, and he laughs. your heart flutters and you peek a look at him, only to find his staring right back at you. “hi baby.”

“jay,” you mumble, he nods.

“that’s right, doll. it’s jay.”

“doll?” you ask.

he shrugs, “maybe it’s time for something new.”

“i like it,” you say.

it takes weeks before you’re discharged. the doctors don’t believe the sudden change in you, the hallucinations suddenly gone, you’re not seeing a teenage lover, you don’t believe you’re 15 anymore.

they run their test but nothing wrong comes back. jason takes you home at the end of it all.

it’s different, the way he walks, or talk, the way he stands. so different yet so familiar. he’s bigger, not the scrawny boy you knew, his size triples yours.

he laughs when you mention it to him.

he keeps his distance, trying to keep you comfortable but you want him closer. you want him to hold you, more than anything you want to curl up next to him, letting some corny horror movie you play in the background, you’d jump despite knowing the jump scares are coming, and he’d tease you, promise to keep the monsters away. before he screamed himself, and you laughed, fingers running through his hair.

his hair was different too, still black but he had that white streak in it. you told him you liked it, he gave up on trying to dye it.

he stays with you at night, holding your hand when you wake up from the nightmares of losing him.

it takes months before he holds you, causally like he used to. hands dragging along your hips when he walks past you. he coddles you months later despite your insistence that you can take care of yourself.

you don’t get over the years of your life you lost, but you both have that in common. your life started and ended together. now you get another chance to start again.

jason won’t leave you again. jay won’t let you hurt again.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[amomentsescape]

Slashers React to You Being Harassed

Warnings: Being verbally harassed by a gross man, some cuss words

A/N: A lot of you seemed to really like the last "Slashers React" fic I did, so I figured I'd write up another one. This came out a little cheesy, but oh well? Hope you enjoy!

Context: You were feeling a little cooped up recently due to being stuck inside from the flu. Now that you were feeling better, you wanted to go out and take some time away from home. But of course, you could never have more than a few minutes of peace. Some older man decides that you are the perfect one to pick on. He attempts to flirt with you, and even after saying "no" a handful of times, he still doesn't get the hint.

Michael Myers

You were honestly a little scared

Not for yourself, but for what was going to happen to the man

Even after weeks of insistence, Michael refused to let you go anywhere on your own

Even if he wasn't right next to you, he was lurking somewhere nearby

He was a blatant and proud stalker

So you knew that it wouldn't take long before-

Welp

The man is now dead with a slit throat

That was quick

"You could have stepped in sooner, you know?"

He just grips onto your hand and drags you back home

"But I've only been outside for five minutes!" you protest

He forces you to stay inside for another couple of weeks

Jason Voorhees

This disgusting man was now attempting to reach out and touch you

You took a step back and tried to put some space between you two

But in the blink of an eye, a large machete burst through his chest at you, your clothes getting splattered with blood

You scream

The now dead man drops to the ground as your eyes meet his killer

"Jesus, Jason! A bit of a warning next time, please."

He just tilts his head at you

You start grumbling about how your clothes were basically ruined now

Jason just picks you up and swings you over his shoulder

"This was my favorite shirt," you continue groaning

He gifts you with a small pocket knife the next day to take with you when you go out

Brahms Heelshire

You promised Brahms you wouldn't step too far off the Heelshire property line

So the fact that anyone was even over here seemed odd to you

And now here you were, wishing Brahms wasn't so weird about leaving the house

Because unfortunately, this man didn't seem like he was going to go away without a fight

So you did the only thing you could think of in that moment

You screamed

It lasted a few seconds

But the man didn't seem fazed

"There's no one else out here, Sweetheart," he said

"Hmm?" a voice spoke behind him

The man spun around and was immediately thrown to the ground

Brahms bashed his head in repeatedly with a rock

"Thank you-" you started

Brahms just grabbed you by the arm and drug you back inside the house

He didn't let you go outside for a while after that

Billy Loomis

You were about ready to punch this man yourself

But you didn't want to risk anything since you were alone

This man was good sized and you knew that trying to fight him probably wouldn't end well for you

But lo and behold, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger

A knife was quickly plunged into the man's throat causing him to bleed out in seconds

After a moment, you finally looked up and saw Billy in front of you

"Thank, God," you sighed, hugging the boy

It took you a second before you pulled away, looking at him in confusion

"Wait, how did you know I was out here?"

Billy avoided your gaze

"Were you stalking me?"

"I like to call it, observing"

You let out a groan

Stu Macher

You're crazy if you think Stu was going to let you outside by yourself

This boy is glued at your hip 24/7

The only reason why this other man was even flirting with you right now is because Stu went off to "take a whizz" as he likes to say

Thankfully, this doesn't normally take him long

So as this man continued to push his luck, Stu walked up next to you, his eyes a little dark

"Is there a problem here, babe?" he asked a little too nicely

How you answer this is definitely going to affect what Stu does next

But this man was pissing you off so...

"Yeah, he won't leave me alone"

And that's all it took for the man to end up dead on his side, a knife in his chest

Afterwards, Stu and you continued your little venture outside

He just held you a lot closer to him the whole time

Eric Draven

You were honestly getting freaked out by this man

In a city like this, anyone could be hurt

But your moment of panic soon died down to the sight of a black crow perching on the nearby building

"Thank you," you murmured

"What was that?" the man spat back

You couldn't help but smile a bit

"You're about to get your ass kicked"

He just laughed at you

Your smile grew when you saw a figure approach the man from behind

He noticed this and turned around, only to be met with the city's best vigilante

"Hi"

The man was suddenly struck with a metal pipe

And he continued to be struck another 17 times

Eric walked up to you after he was done, his painted face dripping with red

"You didn't have to kill him," you said

Eric just shrugged

"Oops?"

[dukeofthomas]

I find the fact that the confrontation at the end of UTRH is often summarized as Jason asking Bruce to kill the Joker for him fascinating.

Because that's not what happened.

Jason holds a gun up to Joker's head, gives Bruce another, and tells him that if Bruce doesn't do something (shoot Jason), he will kill Joker.

Jason doesn't give the gun to Bruce so that he would shoot Joker. He isn't expecting Bruce to pull the trigger on the clown. He's asking Bruce to do nothing. To be inactive. Because that will still be a choice, and despite having done nothing, everybody clearly agrees that Bruce would still, at least in part, be responsible for Joker's death.

...And to me, this moment is a kind of- microcosm, of the rest of Jason's point. Because after being captured and carted off to Arkham, the villain will escape again, and will kill more people. The only way to truly prevent that from happening would be to kill them; Bruce refuses to do so, and I respect his right to choose such a thing for himself, but it is still a choice, and if we agree that Bruce's inaction during the confrontation would leave him at least partly responsible for the Joker's death, then we must also agree that his inaction in permanently preventing the Rogues from killing more people means he is also, partly, responsible for all of those deaths.