#maybe i should watch batman begins

[sanguineterrain]

knight in shining helmet | jason todd

Summary: You're a princess who's visiting Gotham City. You weren't loving it to begin with—then you of course had to get kidnapped. Needless to say, your expectations of the night are in hell. You're hoping, at least, that you'll be rescued by the famous Batman. Instead, it's the infamous Red Hood that finds you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x princess!fem!reader 

Word count: 6.6k

Warnings/tags: kidnapping, rescue, reader and jason don't get along at first, violence, drugging, meet-ugly, 7-eleven food as a courting strategy, kissing, softie jason (he always makes an appearance somehow!), strangers to...not-so-strangers.

the divider

You suppose that, for a princess, you ought to have expected a kidnapping to pan out at least once in your life. 

You just didn't think it would happen tonight. In Gotham City. A place you weren't loving to begin with. 

“Unhand me!” you scream as soon as your taker's filthy, sweaty hand leaves your face. “You'll be executed for this!”

You're not actually sure of Gotham's death penalty policy, but you feel like it's something you should throw in. In any case, the three men who've dragged you away, tied you up, and bruised you in the process, should be a little more afraid of getting caught. 

“Batman will find you,” you add. “He'll save me.” You've heard great tales of Gotham's hero. If anyone can help you, it's him. 

That makes one of them pause. But the ringleader sneers at you. “If he finds us. He's got a lot on his plate every night, ya Majesty.”

“I am a priority guest in this city, of course he would—”

“Shut her up,” the leader snaps, and suddenly, you're being gagged. Disgusting. Completely unsanitary. You don’t want to imagine if the gag has ever been washed.

You keep screaming and fighting through the gag until a needle pricks your neck. Your terror spikes as you realize there's suddenly an ultimatum to fear: what if Batman doesn't reach you in time? 

That's your last thought as the drug renders you unconscious. 

When you awaken, it's still nighttime. Nearly pitch black, except for a dim lightbulb in the center of the room. It looks like you're in some kind of warehouse. You can't see much of anything and it makes you claustrophobic. Your head aches and your vision is blurry, and your cheek is pressed against a grimy floor. You just want to go home.

You try to sit up first, but that nearly makes you throw up, and you do not want to throw up through this ratty gag. So you swallow the feeling and close your eyes, waiting until the nausea passes. You open your eyes and they begin to adjust to the darkness. You’re alone, which confuses you.

Then you spot the explosives hooked up at the bottom of your dress.

The good news is that your kidnappers aren’t here. The bad news is that the reason they aren’t here is because they can remotely explode this place and you inside of it. If they don’t get the ransom they’re no doubt demanding, tonight will be your first and last night in Gotham. 

Another thought chills you to your bone: what if the explosives are set to go off whether they get the ransom or not?

You squeeze your eyes shut as the tears come. You’re going to die.

But wait. Maybe not. Surely, Batman is looking for you. And his young, brightly-colored companion. You never understood that color palette choice.

They’ll save you. Your father has no doubt alerted authorities. You’re the most important person in the city tonight! Of course people are looking for you. 

Yes, you’ll be saved, the criminals will be punished to the highest extent of the law, and you’ll be escorted back to your hotel where you can take a long, luxurious bath. That’ll be very nice. 

You’ll also never visit Gotham again, that is for sure. 

The door to the warehouse rolls open with a boom. You flinch and squint, trying to make out the figure. If it’s your kidnapper, you want to act like you’re still asleep. You think you saw that trick in a film at the cinema you snuck out to watch when you were young. You didn’t catch the whole film, though—you were found out by your guards before you could. Maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d watched the whole film!

As the figure gets closer, you realize firstly that he’s a lot bigger than your kidnappers. You sigh in relief. Batman.

“‘Lo?” asks a gruff voice. “Anybody here?”

You shout through your gag. You can’t make out a face, but it’s alright. Relief floods you. You’re saved.

Your savior jogs to you. You tilt your head as you make out a… red helmet? With glowing eyes?

Wait a minute.

“Holy shit,” Not-Batman says. He pulls out your gag first. “Y’okay?”

Realization strikes you; you recall a story one of the party guests shared earlier in the night about a crime lord and his terror on Gotham.

"You're that terrible gangster that left a duffle bag of heads!" you blurt.

"In the flesh," he says, tapping the barrel of his gun to his helmet in a salute. Red Hood. “You don’t look very happy to see me, all things considered.”

“I don’t want your help!” you say, wriggling away from him. “I’m in an alliance with The Batman!”

He tilts his head. “‘S that so? What alliance would that be? Beauty Pageant Runaways For Bats?”

“I am not a beauty pageant contestant,” you say hotly. “I am a princess, and I have a small militia looking for me.”

He kneels in front of you, holstering his gun. His one of many, many guns. Your skin itches with sweat and adrenaline as he approaches. Those glowing eyes in his helmet flip your stomach. This is all wrong. You're supposed to be saved by a hero, not an outlaw. A criminal.

“Princess, huh?” Hood nods. “Ah, yeah. I heard somethin’ about that. They took you from the Plaza. Just my luck that I’d run into ya.”

“You mean, you weren’t actively looking for me?” you ask in a small voice. 

“Nope. You’ve got every vigilante and cop in the city looking for you, Your Highness. I came in here ‘cause I smelled motor oil.” 

Now that he’s found you, what does he plan to do?

“Are… are you going to release me?” you ask.

“Depends. Is this place rigged to blow?”

“My dress,” you say, unsure whether you should let him know about the explosives. A man who leaves severed heads in a duffel bag doesn’t seem wrapped up too tightly. 

“Hm?” Hood lifts your skirt slightly. He whistles. “Damn. This is some excellent work. Whoever did this is a pro demolitions expert.”

His praise doesn’t comfort you, oddly enough.

“Is it live?” you ask.

“Doesn’t look like it. And I’ve got a lot of experience with explosives. Just stay still for now.”

Hood squats and pulls out a knife. You shift. He's bigger than you even like this, crouched at your level. His shoulders nearly block your entire view. 

“Who were they?” he asks.

“Who was who?”

“The people that took you.”

“I don't know. They were wearing masks. Three men,” you say, frozen as he takes the knife to your feet.

“Mm.”

Hood begins to cut the ropes around your ankles. You delicately point your feet, unsure if he'll slip and get you. 

Your lip curls. "Where's Batman? Or that boy who works with him? Aren't they in charge of this city? I want to speak to one of them."

“I don’t work for the Bats,” he says, an edge to his words.

“Well, I don’t feel comfortable with you rescuing me,” you say. “You’re a criminal.”

Hood stops cutting and looks at you. "Y'want Batman? Fine. I don't mind letting you wait around for the Bat.”

He pockets the knife and rises, walking out of the warehouse and disappearing. Just like that. Your heart jumps.

"Wait!" you shout, squirming in your binds. "Wait, come back!"

But it's silent. Panic digs its claws into your chest.

"Red Hood! Red Hood, come back! Please!"

You begin to cry out of desperation, tears dripping onto your already soiled dress. You try to pull your feet apart, but the rope isn't cut enough and all you do is worsen the burns around your ankles.

You bow your head and cry onto the floor. You just want to go home. You want your goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton ten-thousand thread count sheets. More than that, you never want to return to this stupid city.

"Are you cryin'?"

Your head shoots up. Hood stands over you, arms folded. 

"You-you came back," you say, voice wobbly.

He shrugs. "I had an inkling that you had a change of heart, princess.”

You look away. "You left me.”

"I did,” he says. “But as much as you might deserve abandonment, I'm duty-bound to rescue everyone. No matter how obnoxious of a Batman fan they are."

"I'm not a fan. I just didn't want the morally corrupt, violent drug runner to save me."

He leans down and snaps away the ropes from your ankles—a feat of strength that doesn't go unnoticed. Then he saws the ones around your wrists. "Yeah, well, I don't do that anymore, and for such a pretty face, you suck at sweet talking."

He tosses the rope aside and pockets the knife. You rub your wrists and attempt to sit up. This time, you don’t want to throw up. Success! 

“Anything hurt?” he asks. 

“My legs,” you say miserably. 

“Okay, let me rephrase: anything that'll make you bleed out in the next ten seconds?”

“Um… no.”

“Fantastic. I can probably getcha back to your hotel in an hour.” 

You hold out your arms expectantly. He tuts.

“I don’t give hugs until the third kidnapping. Fourth one is free.”

You huff. “You expect me to walk like this? They took my shoes! Gotham is so uncouth.”

“And what am I s’posed to do about that?” Hood asks. “I look like a Payless to you?”

“I don’t know what that is,” you say. “Don’t you vigilantes have a protocol to follow? I cannot possibly walk through this filthy warehouse on my bare feet. I’ll catch a virus! You’ll have to carry me.”

Hood lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s somewhat eerie through his modulator. You lift your chin, maintaining your composure. 

“Oh my God! Highness, you’re a diamond-encrusted piece of work. I don’t carry anybody unless they’re unconscious and I like ‘em a lot. It’s a short list.”

Your brows furrow. “I’m a guest in your city, and I’ve been kidnapped! The least you can do—”

“The least I can do is leave you to rot here,” Hood says, tone cutting. “Or let your kidnappers come back and finish the job. You aren’t in whatever palace they carted you out of; you’re in fuckin’ Gotham, and if y’want my help, you’re gonna suck it up and walk.”

You look away, tears brimming once more. You sniffle. 

“You don't have to be so mean,” you say, voice watery. “I’ve had a difficult night.” 

It's quiet for a few moments. You've never cried as much as you have tonight, especially not in front of a stranger. A dangerous stranger. 

“...Look, I think I got some spare boots,” Hood finally says. “Stay here.”

“Where would I go?” you mumble. Whether he hears you or not, he doesn’t reply, stalking out of the warehouse. He returns thirty seconds later with a pair of ugly, black, man boots. 

“Used?!” you ask, voice high.

“Lightly, Your Majesty. They’re my spares. Here.”

Hood tosses the boots at you. You stare at them like he’s flung a pair of rats at you. He taps his wrist.

“Time’s a-ticking, princess. I’m on a schedule. I can always let you wait for Batman. He’ll find ya. Eventually.”

So you put on the boots. 

You attempt to stand next, but the drugs and binds have made your limbs weak. You try and fail to get up twice before Hood hooks his arms under yours and hauls you up without a sweat. You squeal, fingers digging into his brown leather jacket. 

He towers over you, doubly intimidating now that you're standing. 

“Got it?” he asks, arms slipping away. 

You definitely don’t have it, and you wobble backward. Hood grabs you again, hand on your back. 

“Whoa. Easy.” Hood cups your face, a little rough. You squirm, mind flooded with all the germs that are probably on his gloves. “Look a'me. Look—stop fighting, Jesus Christ.”

“This is no way to treat a princess!”

“Yeah, I missed that day of training,” he says dryly. “Stay still, I'm tryna see if your pupils are dilated.” 

“Your grip hurts!”

Hood loosens his grip and manages to keep you still long enough to examine your eyes. He hums and lets go.

“Seems like you’re still feeling the effects. Should wear off soon. Now…”

Hood steps back, but not so far that you can’t grab onto him should you fall again. He gives your dress a onceover. 

“So that’s not gonna work.” He takes out his knife again. Your eyes widen. 

“What on earth are you doing with that?” you ask, taking a small step backwards.

“Cutting your dress,” he says, like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do.

You gasp, backing away. “No you will not!”

“Princess—”

“This dress is one-of-a-kind, handmade for tonight’s gala. You’re not going near it! It cost seventeen thousand euros!” 

“Is it worth more than your life?” Hood snaps. “I don’t have any spare clothes and I’m not dragging a ballgown with three pounds of C-4 attached to it around. You have to be able to move and you have to get on my bike. Now quit whining.”

You sulk as he cuts and tears the bottom layer of your gown. He isn’t as savage about it as you expect: the cut is neat and could even be salvaged in the hands of a good seamstress. The night air makes your legs prickle with goosebumps. Then his words register.

“Bike?” you ask as Hood sets your dress remains aside. You’ll grieve for your dress privately.

“Mmhm.”

“I thought you had a Batmobile.”

“That’s Batman’s car. Hence the name. I have a bike ‘cause I’m a morally corrupt, violent, drug runner.”

Your nose wrinkles. “Can’t we take a taxi? Or call a car service?”

Hood snorts. “No one’s driving to this part of Gotham at this hour. It’s my bike or nothing. Or, of course, you can wait for Batsy.”

He starts walking and you hurry to follow. Hood’s strides are long and you’re unsteady in his too-big boots.

“Can you please slow down? These boots are enormous!”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does slow down, waiting until you catch up before leading you to his bike. It’s a nice motorcycle, you suppose, if you were into that thing. You’ve always thought motorcycles were a stupid risk to take. Being on the road is dangerous enough—why remove the comfort and protection of a car?

Hood’s bike is shiny and cherry red, just like his helmet. He produces a proper motorcycle helmet from nowhere and hands it to you. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” you ask, inspecting the helmet. It looks fairly clean and unused. 

“Hasn’t killed me yet, and I’ve been dead once.”

Is that his idea of a joke?

“You’ll be fine,” Hood says at your silence. “I’ll go slow.”

“Alright,” you say, putting on the helmet. It smells oddly pleasant, like spicy cologne. “Very slow.”

“Yeah, yeah, very slow. C’mon.”

Hood kicks a leg over the bike and straddles it, all muscle memory. His muscles flex as he bends his legs. He pats the space behind him. 

Cautiously, you attempt to do the same, but you soon realize that doing that exact move in a dress is probably not the smartest. You hold onto the seat with both hands instead and clumsily try to fold a leg over. It doesn’t work.

“Yo, Bambi. This century would be good.”

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle!” you say, glaring at the back of his helmet. “You could help me.”

“For fuck's—” 

Hood turns around, grabs the back of your calf, and pulls. Your legs part and you shriek, certain you’re about to flash him. He holds your waist as you flail so that you don’t bang into him as you sit. 

“What is wrong with you?” you hiss, smoothing down your dress.

“Re-lax, I didn’t see anything.”

“This is highly undignified—”

“Yeah, we don't really do dignified in Gotham, princess. Comfy?”

“No.”

“Mm. Hold my waist.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Beg all ya want.” Hood takes your arms and wraps them tightly around his waist. He’s warm and, oddly enough, soft despite his bulk. “You’re drugged and unsteady. If y’don’t hold on, you’re gonna fly off. Press up against me and hold tight.”

“Go slow,” you say again, obediently holding his waist.

“Yeah, I’ll go slow,” he says. 

“Do you promise?”

“Promise.”

Hood turns the ignition. The bike roars to life, louder than you expected. You suck in a breath as he revs the engine and starts off.

True to his word (and what a flimsy word it is), Hood goes slow. He takes gentle, easy turns and breaks at all the stop signs, even though this part of the city is essentially abandoned at this hour. You’re able to study the streets, twinkling streetlights a little too bright to your recovering eyes. But you look anyway, shocked at the dilapidated buildings and uneven pavement. You’re definitely not in the Gotham you were earlier tonight. It hardly looks like the same city.

You turn your attention to your savior. It feels like an odd word to use for the Red Hood, whom you’ve heard enough about tonight. Your father had warned you excessively about what a dangerous area this was, and who exactly made it so dangerous. 

But a savior is exactly what Hood has been to you. You decide that, despite his roughness, he still deserves a good reward. Perhaps a Hoodmobile. Or new boots.

Your rescue is going smoothly until you cross the bridge. That’s when another biker turns onto the road behind you. 

“Shit,” Hood says, and you’re startled that you can hear him so clearly despite the noise. It’s like he’s in your head. “We’re being tailed.”

Well, that’s not good. You turn around briefly but you can’t make out your follower; you’re too scared to move on the bike.

But then you hear the bike behind you speed up. 

“Motherfucker,” Hood says, and speeds up. Your arms tighten into a death grip. 

“Hold on,” he says, like you'd do anything otherwise. 

Hood speeds up and takes a sharp left turn. You tense and yelp, squeezing your eyes shut. He takes several winding turns and you keep your eyes shut through all of them. The nausea has returned and you’d prefer not to ruin the inside of his helmet with your stomach contents.

“We lose him?” he asks when the road levels off and it doesn’t feel so much like you’re on a rollercoaster.

“Um…” you begin, and chance turning around.

It’s clear for a few seconds until…

Well, to echo Hood’s sentiment: motherfucker.

“He’s there!” you yell, and Hood growls.

“The helmets are mic’d, you don’t have to shout,” he says, leaning into a left turn. 

“I see him!” you say, and grab one of Hood’s holstered guns. He scrambles to grab it but misses, surprise slowing him down.

“What the fuck are you doin’?!”

You ignore him and take off the safety. Moving your free arm up to Hood’s neck, you fire. He curses up a storm, throwing in a few words you’ve never even heard. 

The shots go wide; one dents a parked car, and one hits a stop sign. 

“You’re fuckin’ nuts!” Hood yells and snatches the gun out of your hand. 

But your tail falls back, evidently spooked enough by you and your poor aim. He turns on a side street and disappears.

“He’s gone! We’ve lost him!” you say happily. 

“Are you insane?” 

You wince at his volume. “The helmets are mic’d, you know.”

“You’re so—”

Hood cuts himself off and pulls sharply onto the sidewalk. He dismounts and pushes the kickstand down hard. Then he turns to you, chest heaving.

“Don’t ever fucking do that again. Are you crazy? You could’ve gotten us killed!”

“It worked, didn’t it?” you ask, putting out your arms. “We lost him!”

“No, we didn’t. All we did was throw him off our trail a little. We gotta walk the rest of the way now because he probably fell back to get more guys to follow us. But that’s not the point: what you did was insanely risky and stupid. You don’t know how to use a gun and you could’ve hurt yourself.”

You stay silent, chewing on his words. Hood isn’t wrong, he’s just… loud about it.

“Do you understand me?” he snaps. 

You don't reply. 

“I need a yes.”

“...I wanted to help.”

Hood sighs. “Yeah, well… just don’t. I’m good at what I do and I’ll get you back in one piece. But you gotta trust me.”

“Okay,” you say quietly. You feel small, but you don't want to cry in front of him again and confirm that you really are just a spoiled, whiny princess. “I'm sorry, Red Hood.”

You sit down on the curb, feeling exhausted. Tonight is awful. 

It's quiet for a long moment. Then Hood says, “Don't cry.”

Your jaw works as you swallow hard. “I'm not.” You turn your head so he won't see.  

“Christ on toast,” he mumbles above you. “This is exactly why I don't do rescue missions—”

You sniffle. “I'm not crying.”

“—’Cause I'm the world's biggest asshole,” he finishes, voice miles softer. 

Hood sinks onto the curb next to you. He scoots in just enough so that your shoulders brush against each other. 

“Look, ‘m a jerk. The Bats are better at handling civilians and being nice. You got the potty mouth with a bad attitude.” 

You rub your eyes. “I don't like yelling.” 

“Yeah,” Hood says quietly. “Okay. I'll try not to yell unless you're in immediate danger. But you can’t pull stunts like that. Deal?”

You nod. “I won't fire any more of your guns.”

He snorts. “Yeah, no kidding. Where’d you learn how to shoot, anyway? I mean, y’didn’t do it well, but you did it. Not half-bad for your first time in Gotham.”

“My father wanted me to learn gun sports,” you say. “I learned how to take the safety off and point and shoot, but I refused to do any more lessons after my instructor shot a duck for target practice. I think guns are uncivilized and destructive, and I don’t condone killing animals for sport.”

“Uncivilized unless you're getting tailed by kidnappers?” You think you detect a smile in his question. 

“Everything has its exceptions,” you say primly. 

“Ain't that the truth. C'mon, we should get moving. We're, ‘scuse the saying, sitting ducks out here.”

Hood stands first and offers you a hand. You take it, letting him pull you up. He does that so easily. It makes your spine tingle. 

“How far are we from my hotel?” you ask.

“‘Bout two miles. If I had my gear I'd call for an assist,” he says apologetically. “Wasn’t planning to save lost princesses tonight.”

“I don't suppose there's any chance that you'll carry me, is there?”

“Pretty and funny,” Hood says. “You're the whole package, beauty queen.”

Your snarky reply is cut off by your stomach growling. Your eyes widen. 

“Pardon me,” you say, mortified. 

“What, ‘cause you're hungry?” Hood asks. “‘S a normal human condition.”

“You don't know anything about royal manners,” you say, but you're relieved. Your father would give you a tight, deadly look if you were hungry in public. 

“No, I really don't. Born and bred Gotham, baby.” 

“Showing any signs of hunger or thirst around company is highly undignified,” you say. 

“Being a princess sounds exhausting.”

No arguments there. 

Hood starts walking. You scramble to follow, and he seems to remember your shorter stride and slows down. 

“There's a pretty decent 7-Eleven nearby,” he says. “I'd take ya to my favorite diner, but we're on a tight schedule. Those guys won’t be far behind.”

“A seven and eleven? Oh, I've heard of those!” you say. 

“I’m… glad you're so excited about convenience stores?”

“I saw it in a film once. My father didn’t catch me watching this one. It looked so rugged, eating in a convenience store and fighting crime afterward. I've never been to one.”

“I know I shouldn't be surprised considering how much your dress cost but it does kinda blow my mind that you've never tasted anything but the finest cuisine,” Hood says. “Wait, did you say your dad didn’t catch you?”

You hum. “He doesn’t like me watching films that aren’t pre-approved.”

“Wow. Y’know, I could pirate you some movies if y’want. I know a great website for it.”

You laugh. “That’s alright. I manage to sneak out to the cinema more than I used to, now that he’s older.”

“Pretty sneaky, beauty queen.” He sounds impressed. 

You shrug, trying to hide your pride. “I’ve had a lot of practice.”

You turn on the corner and he leads you through a residential area. A few people outside of their apartments stare at you, but when they see Hood, they relax. 

“Red!” a little boy shouts from a fire escape. He waves excitedly. Hood waves back.

“Hope you’re listening to your ma,” Hood calls to him, mock-stern. To anyone else—to you—it would be unnerving. 

But the boy grins. “I am!”

“Then why aren't ya in bed, huh?” 

The boy shrugs. “Not tired. Who's the lady?”

“The lady is a princess, so be nice,” Hood says.

“Whoa!” The boy gapes at you. You wave at him and he jumps up from the window. 

“Mom!” he yells. “Red Hood found a princess!”

You giggle as Hood leads you away. 

He shakes his head. “Kids.” He sounds terribly fond. 

You stare at his back for a moment. 

“They like you,” you say. “You keep them safe. But you're also a friend.”

“Helps to earn their trust,” he says gruffly. 

You walk a little more in silence. 

“I was wrong about you, Hood,” you say. He doesn't look at you. 

“Lotta people are. Nothin’ new.” 

No, it probably isn't. 

“‘Kay, here we are. C’mon. We gotta be fast, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, following him into the 7-Eleven. 

“Hey, Benny,” Hood says to the tired cashier behind the counter.

Benny nods. “Long night?”

“You got no idea.” He gestures to you. “She’s a princess.”

“Sweet,” Benny says. “What’s up?”

“How do you do?” you say politely. 

Hood leads you to the rolling hot dogs and other cylindrical foods under the heat lamps. You frown.

“I have had a hot dog before,” you say. “I’m not that sheltered.”

“Yeah, but have ya had a buffalo ranch roller? My brother and I used to get these after patrol. That with a blue raspberry slushie? Heavenly after getting thrown into a dumpster.”

“Well, you’ve gotten me this far, so I suppose I’ll trust you,” you say.

“I’m flattered. Benny, my usual.”

Benny gives a thumbs-up and puts the ‘roller’ in a paper bag. Meanwhile, Hood takes you to the back where the slushie machine is. You watch as he fills a plastic cup with electric blue sludge. Your brows raise.

“Why is it that color?” you ask.

“Tasty chemicals,” Hood says cheerily. “It won’t kill ya, I promise.”

“That would be counterintuitive at this point,” you say. 

“I appreciate your faith in me, princess.”

You return to Benny, who rings up the food. “Five twenty-seven.”

Hood looks at you expectantly. You look at him.

“What?” you ask.

“This is the part where you pay,” he says.

“A princess never carries money on her person,” you say, like it’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard.

“You–” Hood looks at Benny and sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

He pays and you take your treats, trotting out the door. 

“Thank you, kind sir!” you say as Hood waves. 

“See ya, Ben.”

You hold out your slushie for Hood to take while you work on your fried goodie.

“I’m not a cupholder,” he says, but he takes the cup anyway.

“It’s warm!” you say, delighted. “Let me take a bite.”

Hood patiently waits as you bite and chew. You hum.

“Good?” he asks.

“I like it,” you say. “It’s unusual. Is this chicken?”

“So they say,” Hood says. “Try the slushie.”

You take the cup and first take a small sip. It’s cold and sweet and slightly sour and probably full of enough sugar to rot your teeth out of your head. You love it.

“This is wonderful,” you say. 

He laughs. “Yup. Told ya, nothin’ like this combo. It’s a classic. C’mon, let’s get moving.”

You walk and eat, and it definitely improves your night, having something in your belly. 

“This is just like Roman Holiday,” you say.

Hood snorts. “I don’t think we watched the same movie.”

“It has a likeness. You’re Gregory Peck.”

“Yeah, sure. If Gregory Peck was a street fighter, then yeah. I’m Greg fuckin’ Peck.”

“No, you’re right. You’re much younger than he was in that movie. How old are you?” you ask.

“Twenty-four.”

“Really? Why are you doing this?”

“Took a career test.”

You bump his shoulder. “Seriously, Hood. You’re young. You’ve so much potential. I can tell that you’re smart.”

“Maybe I like doing this,” he says.

You tut, shaking your head. “That’s ridiculous. You could do more. Be more.”

“You’re just fulla charm, aren’t ya?” Hood says. 

Your next step is hesitant. Hood keeps walking. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” you say. “I guess I assumed…”

“Yeah, I know. You assume a lot, princess. And you’re wrong.”

“You made assumptions about me! You thought that I was stupid and naive and I’m not.”

Hood stops, turns. “Maybe I like doing what I do, huh? Ever think of that? I meant it when I said I’m not a criminal anymore. I help people.”

“I know that,” you say quietly. “I see how the citizens treat you. They like you. You care for them greatly. I just… I just meant that you could try new things too. If you wanted to.”

He’s quiet for a bit. You keep walking. 

“I didn’t think you were stupid,” he eventually says.

You scoff. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Yeah, I thought you were a little… sheltered. But you’re smart. You’re certainly tougher than your dad gives you credit for.”

You roll your eyes. “He still thinks I’m six years old. It takes me getting kidnapped to see a city.”

“Pretty shitty tour.”

You smile behind his back. “Oh, I don’t know. The tour guide is alright.”

Hood stops. When he doesn’t speak, you approach.

“Hood?”

He suddenly puts a hand over your mouth and drags you backwards into an alleyway. Your yelp is muffled. Hood puts a finger to where his mouth would be under his helmet.

That’s when you hear voices.

“—single fuckin’ clue. She could be in the fuckin’ Atlantic by now. Halfway to China!”

“China’s on the other side, dumbass.”

You look up at Hood, eyes wide. 

Those are your kidnappers' voices.

He seems to understand and nods. He squeezes your arm and removes his hand from your mouth. He points to himself and points outside, then points to you and points down. 

You assume that means stay put and don’t try to shoot anyone with his gun. You can take a hint.

Hood slinks out of the alley. You peek your head out to look, curiosity overtaking fear. Besides, you trust Hood. You figure with a reputation like his, he can more than handle his own. 

“Nice night, ain’t it?” he says. 

The two men turn, looking close to pissing themselves. Good.

“Hood, we weren’t doing nothin’!” one says.

“Yeah, Ricky and I are clean!”

“Oh, really? So you had nothing to do with the kidnapping of a certain visiting princess.”

“We was nowhere near the Plaza!” Ricky cries.

The other elbows his friend. Before you can blink, Hood has them both down on the ground, pistols pointed at their necks. 

“You were gonna hurt her,” Hood says, and now there’s no trace of humor in his voice. “That poor, sweet princess. Strapping C-4 to her like a fuckin’ bank vault. Drugging her, tying her up. You fuckin’ animals.”

“It wasn’t our idea, it was Bobby’s!” Ricky cries. 

“Shut up, Ricky!”

A shot rings out and you flinch. Ricky starts sobbing. Red seeps from his leg.

“The only reason I’m not killing you two right now is because I want a word with your boss. But make no mistake.” Hood leans in. “You’ll pay for hurting the princess. I’ll make sure of it.”

With two final hits, Hood knocks them out cold. The sudden silence is loud. 

He looks at you then, those eerie eyes glowing. He beckons you out. You go. 

You look down at the unconscious bodies. “You don’t have to kill them.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’d rather you didn’t. You shouldn’t have that on your conscience.”

“They kidnapped you. They would’ve hurt you had their boss ordered it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I don’t want you to bear that burden, Hood.”

“‘S not a burden,” he says, gently taking your wrist. Your eyes fly open. “If it’ll make you feel better, safer, anything. It’s no burden.”

“Okay,” you say quietly, frightened at how pleased a part of you is at his words.

“I’ll tie ‘em up and send for ‘em when we get back. One second.”

You watch as Hood drags their bodies into the alley like they’re sacks of feathers. He handcuffs them to a drainpipe and ties their feet and gags them. 

“So they can see what it feels like,” Hood says, dusting his hands. You can’t help your small smile. 

“Ready?” he asks.

You look up at the starless sky, suddenly exhausted. Your limbs feel like lead. “I guess so.”

Hood looks into the distance, then back at you. He sighs.

“Climb on my back.”

You blink. “Pardon me?”

“You’re pardoned.” Hood shrugs. “I can tell you’re tired. We don’t have far to go.”

“Won’t I be too heavy?” you ask. “All that way…”

“Princess, I’m honestly offended. I once carried Batman and my brother to Bludhaven. I’m more than capable.”

“But what about your rule?” you ask. “About carrying people.”

“Turns out you’re not so bad,” he says. “Get on ‘fore I change my mind.”

So you climb onto Hood’s back. He secures you easily, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Don’t choke me out,” he says. “Otherwise we’re both goin’ down.”

You smile and relax on his back. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

At first, it feels like an eternity, waiting for the familiar Plaza sign. You can’t complain, though: Hood is warm and being carried by him is even better than riding on his bike. 

You blink, startled at the thought. What are you even talking about? This is the Red Hood. You were terrified of him a few hours ago. 

And yet, the rhythmic bumping and Hood’s solid figure lulls you to sleep. You don’t even realize until you’re being nudged and a voice pulls you back to consciousness. 

“Hey.”

You’re gently jostled awake. You blink blearily, yawning into Hood’s shoulder.

Oh. Right. You’re on his back.

“Hm?” 

“Ride ends here,” he says. “We’re at the Plaza.”

“Oh.” Sleepily, you try to climb off. Hood sets you on your feet. Embarrassment fills you as you become more awake.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you. You could’ve woken me! I—”

Hood holds up a hand. “Hey, chill out. ‘S fine. You had a long night, I get it.”

“Right. I, um…” You look up at the hotel. The top floor windows disappear in the layer of fog that’s settled over the city. You wonder what Hood’s windows look like. 

“I’m gonna track down your main kidnapper and make sure they don’t hurt anyone else. I’ll kick his ass, at the very least.”

You look at Hood, blinking. “Oh. That’s very nice of you, thank you.”

He shrugs. “‘S my job.”

You nod clumsily. “Right, of course. I could give you something in return, though. Money or, um, firearms. A car, perhaps?”

He snorts. You smile shyly. 

“Cute,” he says, but he’s not being mean. “No, that’s okay. I’m pretty set, actually. Doing what I do is surprisingly lucrative.”

“Surely there’s something—”

“Seriously, princess, no charge.”

You bite your lip. Is this too bold? Yes, definitely.

“What about a kiss?”

At first, you think Hood hasn’t heard you. Then he turns to face you in a way that tells you no, he definitely heard you. 

“Ex-cuse me?”

“Um.” You scratch your neck. “Well, princesses kiss their knights goodbye, don’t they?” you ask, but it’s weak. It’s stupid. You’re so young.

You think he’s going to just walk away. That would be the kindest thing to do in response to your blunder.

“I’m sorry, forgive me. That was a terrible joke,” you blurt.

“No, it wasn’t.”

He steps forward, close enough to kiss you if he didn’t have the helmet. You look up at him, heart pounding.

“Wasn’t terrible or wasn’t a joke?” you ask, blood roaring in your ears.

Hood’s quiet. 

“Haven’t done much kissing, to be honest with ya,” he finally says, not answering your question. 

You shake your head. “Nor I.”

“Mm. And y’wanna kiss me? Don’t offer ‘cause you think you owe me.”

“I want to kiss you, Hood.”

He tilts his head. “Y’wouldn’t be kissing a knight. More like kissing a toad.”

You frown. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I’m no Greg Peck. And I’m no hero either.”

“Do you give this speech to everyone who wants to kiss you?”

“You’re the first one who’s wanted to,” he says.

You inhale sharply. “Oh.”

“Uh-huh.”

You wait. He waits. You both wait for the other to back out. You don’t. Neither does he.

“Can’t believe a princess wants to kiss me,” he mumbles.

And then he covers your eyes with his hand.

You blink, lashes sweeping over his glove. You hear a click, then a hiss of air. His helmet hits the ground with a dull thud. 

Hood gingerly holds your chin with his free hand. You keep your eyes closed even though he’s covering them, out of respect.

His mouth is warm and so, so gentle. You barely feel his lips at first, so you press a little harder. Hood doesn’t know what to do with his mouth, resting it on yours, so you take the lead, following what you’ve seen others do and what you’ve watched on television.

You reach up and hold his face. He makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. You stroke his stubbled jaw, feel strong cheekbones and the ends of curls above his ears. 

“Your Highness? Your Highness!”

The hand leaves your face so quickly, your eyes stay closed for a second longer, slow to react. Then you open your eyes and see the empty street.

Your lips tingle with heat. It’s all noise around you, policemen and your guards flitting around you, asking questions, alarmed by your torn dress. 

You exhale, disappointment overtaking you.

Your father is in front of you, taking your wrists. “Can you hear me? Doctor, I need a—”

“I’m fine,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. “I’m alright, Father.”

He exhales and pulls you into a hug. It startles you. He pulls away before you can hug him back.

“I am so glad you’re alright,” he says. “The police say they saw a figure with you. Who was that? Was he your kidnapper?”

“No, not at all,” you say, staring out into the street beyond. Your lips are buzzing. “He was my hero.”

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

Hi!

I’d love a part two to your hit me hard and soft fanfic. Maybe Y/N continues to avoid them as a romantic relationship but begins to accept a platonic one liking eating with Dick or hanging out with Jason at school, etc… but the Batfam gets impatient and talks about why they are afraid (and maybe hunt down the ex which could gain their trust?)

Hit me Hard and Soft: Whispers in the Shadows

Synopsis: The relationship between the batfam gets broken after mistakes lead to accusations, and accusations lead to contingency plans.

Pairing: Yandere!Poly!Romantic!Batboys X Gn!Reader

Tw: Poly!Yandere; All characters aged up; Possible betrayal; Bad father Bruce, but is he actually the asshole here?; Arguments; Mentions of killing and torture; Possibly ooc batboys: English is my 2nd language.

Word count: 2k

Requested? Yes.

Extra notes: Not much action between Reader and the batboys here, but definitely something. Read the end to answer my question👀

General masterlist | Hit me Hard and Soft - Series masterlist

— You can't be serious.

The tension was at its highest point. Only a few times priorly did the conflict between all of them get this bad, and as always, they feared things couldn't go back to the way they were.

— I am being serious. That's how things work. — Bruce stated darkly and Dick narrowed his eyes. — We tried it the nice way, I trusted you to behave, but you couldn't do that. — Bruce raised his gloved hand and pointed at Damian. — First, Damian can't control himself. He spent a decade acting right. Justice, not vengeance. But now, he's using (Y/N) as an excuse to defile orders and act as an assassin again! — Damian hissed and clenched his fists, taking a step forward.

— If you really cared for them, you would understand, father! But as always, you put your so-called mission above everything, even us! Even them! — Bruce clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes in his direction, then turned to Jason.

— And you! How many chances do I have to give you? Both of you! You don't change. You will never change. And until you do that, you will never deserve (Y/N)’s or mine trust. Or their love. — Jason's heart broke in two, but he didn't react on the outside. Just kept his hard, Red Hood’s exterior. As he always did every time he and Bruce had a falling out.

— Bruce… — Dick muttered, a mix of a warning to remind him of not going too far, and betrayal by what he was witnessing. Bruce didn't look phased. And the fact he was still wearing Batman's suit, minus the cowl, just made this whole situation more genuine. He was neither Bruce Wayne, the persona, nor Batman, the vigilant. He was just Bruce. Their boss and their father.

— You hunted down that man, tortured and killed him! And you… — He took his gaze away from Jason and glared at Damian again. — Knew about it, and didn't notify us!

— I did know about it. Todd, you should have told us before. I also wanted that scum’s blood in my hands-

— ENOUGH! THE BOTH OF YOU WILL STAY AWAY FROM (Y/N). FOREVER.

Tim raised an eyebrow.

— Sound’s convenient. — All head’s snapped in his direction.

— What do you mean, Tim? — Dick asked. All muscles on his body tense. Tim gazed at him for a moment, then at Damian and Jason, then at Bruce again, staring directly into his eyes. — I just think it's very convenient that Bruce's getting rid of two of them. While your reason checks with past conflicts we had, with your morals and mission. It's also good for you that you wouldn't have to share (Y/N)’s attention with so many people in the future. Right, Bruce?

Silence took hold of the room.

— What are you implying? — Bruce stomped forward until he was face to face with Tim, their nose’s almost touching, daring him to say more. Tim didn't back down.

— Yeah, Tim, what're you implying? — Jason raised an eyebrow behind his helmet and took a step forward. The others copied that action.

— I’ve been watching you, Bruce. Just like you've been watching us. I know you’ve been upgrading contingency plans, more specifically, our contingency plans. I think he's been trying to keep us busy. To rile us up to commit mistakes. While he hogs all of (Y/N)’s attention. He said Damian could be trusted again if he proved himself, that was a year ago, and he still didn't give Damian permission. I bet he knew Damian would get restless and get more violent with criminals. Until he had an excuse to kick him out. And Jason, he let you spend time with (Y/N) at university. But as soon as (Y/N) started calling you their best friend, hanging out with you outside of classes and even confiding in you about their trauma, proving that our plan to make them trust us was finally working, suddenly (Y/N)’s ex receives an offer to transfer to GCPD, while everyone here has a… Weakness, when it comes to losing people we love and avenging their suffering, it's a known fact some are more… Trigger-happy than others.

Dick shook his head.

— Tim, that's something serious you're accusing him of.

— Let him continue. — Bruce growled darkly.

— I don't have anything to accuse you of, Bruce. I just don't trust you. — He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

— So you're ready to brush off what they did? — Bruce accused and Dick started to feel even more restless seeing that the distance between them didn't change, feeling the urge to get in the middle and defend his little brother.

— I didn't say anything. But I wouldn't be surprised if me or Dick were next. — That made Dick snap.

No, he can't.

He can’t keep me away from them.

After everything I did.

We're just so close now.

Just earlier today we were having lunch together.

He can't.

He can't do this to me.

Is that how Jay and Dami felt? Is that why they snapped and started killing people? Is that why Jason killed that guy? Just for the idea of losing them forever?

Is that why, even with how heartbreaking and horrible it sounds, any possibility of someone trying to take them away from them made Tim voice out his paranoia? Thoughts Dick had when everything was quiet, when he just brushed it off as intrusive thoughts?

It isn't… Logical… But it also is…

The only thing stopping him from believing Tim wholeheartedly is the lifelong trust he had on Bruce. But those are just feelings. And they all feel. Intensely. For you.

And as much as they tried to make it peaceful, everyone having a piece of you and being happy. They were having problems, and a traitor was always a possibility.

Either way, he couldn't take that chance.

That night, Wayne Manor slept almost completely empty. All of the sons were gone. And you would know it too.

It's been a week. They've been meeting at the apartment just beside yours. It was empty, until Damian bought it, and started living there after cutting ties with his father. He wasn't happy that the others were also using it as their nest, a place to meet and talk about strategies. And keep an eye on you.

Damian was slowly steering his tea, mind elsewhere, not really paying mind to the conversation. While it was important, his stomach was full of butterflies and his heart pounded hard every time he thought about earlier, something he couldn't stop doing. After a whole year of being almost completely away from you, finally spending time with you was like a dream. That just made his resentment towards his father grow worse, even if he didn't do that on purpose, it still felt like injustice.

He knew since he was born, his way of doing things was always better.

He just told you he didn't know that part of the town much, and you, sweet you, already acquainted with his brothers, invited him to show him around. A bad taste came to his mouth whenever he thought he was the least close to you, even if he knew everything there was to know about his beloved. He got left behind. He let himself be left behind.

Because he was weak. Because he was submissive. Because he trusted his father.

His mother did send him to his progenitor's home saying that he needed to learn from him.

— We could use the League.

All heads snapped to him.

— Huh?

— We are talking about contingency plans for our father. We could have the League of Assassins on our side. Infinite resources against one single man. (Y/N) would live in luxury. And they did tell us… — His heart warmed at the sensation of finally feeling included in your life. — … Multiple times that they despised the cold weather Gotham always seems to have. Eth Alth'eban is always hot.

— We are not joining those fuckers, and you shut down that idea before I start believing what that old man said about you and kick your ass into your grave, demon brat. — Damian kept stoic after Jason's response.

— We could use the League for something good for once. I could. As the Head of the Demon. — He retorted with confidence.

Dick shook his head in disbelief.

— Dami, I think that's too much. It would only prove what Bruce was trying to say. — Damian leaned forward, as if getting closer would make his point come across as more genuine.

— I could do it! Not as a dictator like my grandfather! But as something actually good! Not just for us, but for everyone! The whole world!

— Does that megalomaniac plan of yours have an actual strategy? — Damian rolled his eyes.

— Of course it has. Kill anyone who gets in the way of my rightful place at birth. — Damian tilted his head at Tim, who looked at him in disbelief.

— Even Ras? — Damian frowned. What a dumb question. Damian would do anything for you.

— Especially Ras. — A fist hit the table and the oldest got up with a scowl in his face.

— No one. Is going to kill. Anyone. And we are not going to use the League. — Damian got up too.

— What is stopping you? This is for (Y/N)! It is not just some fucking petty act to annoy father. He acted behind our backs and he will take my beloved from me! From us!

— We don't know that yet! — Even with Dick's exclamation, it was clear not even him was totally sure about Bruce's intentions.

— … Failing to prepare is preparing to fail. — Tim muttered. They all observed he had a distant look on his face, it was the look he had when he was planning something. After a few seconds, he looked up again and got up, facing Damian. — I'm with you. It’ll be nice to see Ras look when he realizes he lost to me one last time. And to have whole guardianship of my spleen he keeps on his bedside table again.

— What? — The other three sputtered.

— I won't kill anyone. But I will help you and be an ally. Even if that means losing the Titans and leaving behind everything I build here. All for (Y/N). — Tim spoke. Jason got up.

— Tim, you can't be serious too. — He received a glare in return.

— I am. You're invited to join us. Or to become our enemy.

Damian was staring at Tim, the brother he always had a strange relationship with, full of fights and sarcasm, but they always knew they could count on each other in the end. Because they were family.

Of course, it would be nicer to have you all to himself, but he also needed more allies, and brilliant minds like his own. It would also hurt to lose every person he loved while choosing you, even if he would always choose you in the end.

— … What if (Y/N) doesn't trust us after this? — Dick mumbled, trying to see both sides before making a decision.

— We’ll explain to them. About how we got rid of every single individual who wanted to isolate and steal them from us. How we want to care for them. Keep them safe. And how I- We, made the world a better place in the process. — Dick glared at him halfheartedly.

— We have a solid plan here, Dick. We Just have to form our strategies based on what we have. It will work!

Dick sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. He started walking around the apartment, contemplating, listening in on your apartment and Tim and Damian in the background, trying to convince Jason.

When even Jason seemed convinced, Dick knew what he had to do.

Everyone turned to him when he came back to the table again, in expectation.

He looked Damian in the eyes and put his hand on his little brother's shoulders. So grown. So different from what he was before meeting you. You brought the worst out of him. Out of all of them. And you didn't even know it. That was the worse part.

But Dick was always known for being a manipulator.

— Congratulations, you're the new Demon's Head.

Extra note: I'm curious to if you guys think Bruce was actually planning something and not just being regular canon Batman putting his morals above family👀

Like, comment and reblog 🥰

DC Taglist:

@wandalfnation @vadersassistant @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @hxsun4 @silverklaus @toast-on-dandelioms @bluewillbon @ladyel1x1r3l0p3r @wpdarlingpan @lilyalone @bloodyboi @gram-cracker24 @prongs-moon @sxftiebee

[ktkat99]

Update to this prompt I posted a little while ago. Scroll to the bottom for a link to the story.

Tim gets injured while not wearing his suit one night.

Bernard, who has never met Tim before, finds him and takes him home. He ends up losing his memory and Bernard decides to let him move in while he heals, unaware that he's really Red Robin.

Bruce and the rest of the family can't find Tim anywhere.

Days turn into weeks.

Weeks turn to months.

All without a trace.

Tim and Bernard are getting used to living together, and both the pros and cons of being roommates.

Tim will sometimes have nightmares or flashbacks, but he’s also started to heal.

His family ends up torn, with Jason, Dick, and Steph convinced he’s alive, while Bruce, Cass and Damian have all resigned themselves to believing that he died.

One night, Tim and Bernard take a nighttime walk to a convenience store and witness a robbery.

Tim stops the guy on instinct and has a flashback of fighting with Nightwing. He assumes he was a criminal and runs off before the clerk can thank him.

Something the clerk mentions to Officer Dick Greyson when he arrives to arrest the thief. The clerk hands over the surveillance footage, which ends up being proof that Tim survived.

Dick is overjoyed, but Steph and Jason point out that he isn't being held hostage. He's free and yet never contacted them.

Was he in hiding?

From them?

Or for his own protection from someone?

Or maybe the civilian he was with had done something to him?

Whatever the reason, they decide against telling the rest of the family until they can figure out what's going on.

They begin following Tim, keeping their distances.

Tim, meanwhile, after ‘remembering’ being a criminal, can't stop obsessing over his scars, and who he might have hurt to receive them. He keeps thinking about the convenience store clerk and Bernard, wracked with guilt about all the things he may have done.

Bernard stays by him the whole time, doing his best to calm him down.

Tim doesn't tell him what's on his mind out of fear of being kicked out, and Bernard assumes the event was too stressful for him and doesn't push him to talk.

Eventually, the two of them fall asleep together, and Tim promises to make up for his past crimes by protecting Bernard. Things gradually go back to normal with Bernard going to work and Tim, who has no valid id, staying home and taking care of the apartment.

Nightwing, Red Hood, and Spoiler take turns watching Tim and Bernard.

They still haven't told their family, but know they can't just follow Tim forever.

Before they can decide on their next move, though, Cass bumps into him while grocery shopping. She freezes and he doesn't recognize her, but Dick, Jason, and Steph have to come clean.

Cass is pissed, Bruce wants to bring Tim home immediately, and Damian points out that he might not even want to come home, and that they should leave him be.

They decide that, before they make their decision, they need to talk to Tim. Maybe he really did just decide to quit.

Tim, meanwhile, has been using his free time while Bernard is at work to help people who need it. He becomes somewhat of a neighborhood vigilante, believing that he needs to make up for his past crimes.

Most of the injuries he incurs are minor and easy to hide from Bernard, but one day he takes a knife to the arm.

Bernard freaks out and tries to give him stitches in their kitchen, but then has to convince Tim to let him take him to a hospital.

Tim, not wanting to be arrested for crimes he doesn't remember committing, therefore leaving Bernard alone, argues that he's fine.

It doesn't hurt that bad.

He'll heal.

Bernard gets frustrated and shows off his own scars, which he had worked hard to always keep hidden. He explains what happened to him, and how his family disowned him as a result of ending up in the cult, and that he promises he won't put Tim in a situation where he could be in danger.

He asks to know why Tim is so adamant against going to the hospital and Tim reluctantly admits what he's pieced together from his flashbacks.

Bernard is shocked to find out that he might have been sharing his apartment with a criminal, but reasons that that must be why Tim knows how to fight.

Deciding to focus on the problem at hand, Bernard convinces Tim to at least let him take him to Leslie’s place, as she doesn't ask questions.

Leslie proceeds to ask questions, prompting Bernard to be the one to answer them for Tim.

Leslie comes to the conclusion that Bernard is answering so that Tim doesn't say the wrong thing, and only grows more concerned when she tries to subtly give him openings to slip her a message or some sort of sign that he needs help and he doesn't.

She decides that, since he's acting like he's never met her, she'll play along.

Once Bernard and Tim leave, she calls Bruce and tells him what happened.

Bruce decides it's time to step in because something is clearly wrong with Tim.

Tim and Bernard head back home and have a long talk about everything Tim's been hiding and what he's been up to.

Bernard wonders if Tim might be wrong about his assumption that he was a criminal, but Tim remembers stalking Batman, fighting with Nightwing, Robin trying to kill him and a few other things.

Tim was a criminal, and he's certain of it.

At a loss of what else to do, Bernard convinces Tim to get takeout for dinner, since neither have eaten yet.

Tim agrees and they walk down to Tim's favorite place.

On the way there, Batman and Nightwing show up and order them into the Batmobile.

Tim manages to fight off Nightwing as Batman is driving and Nightwing isn't expecting Tim to fight him and escapes with Bernard.

Their suspicions all appear to be confirmed; the Batfam believe Tim is being controlled by Bernard, while Bernard and Tim believe he's a wanted criminal.

Tim decides he needs to leave, since he's obviously being hunted, but Bernard refuses to let him.

Not alone, at least.

Tim wants Bernard to stay safe, which means away from him, but Bernard is just as worried about Tim's safety. They argue, but ultimately both find an abandoned building to hide in together.

They decide to take turns sleeping and Tim falls asleep wondering what sort of crime he committed to warrant the Bats searching for him. He ends up dreaming of the night he found his father's body and wakes up believing that he killed him.

Bernard has nodded off at this point and Tim needs to clear his head so he heads up to the roof to process what he dreamed about.

The bats decide that, for their safety and his, Tim will need to be taken by force and they can figure out what's wrong with him once they have him back home.

They track them to the abandoned building and break in, but only find Bernard.

Bernard ends up getting captured quickly and taken to the batcave for questioning.

Tim, who witnessed the abduction but hadn't been quick enough in getting down from the roof to do anything, decides it's time to go on the offensive against the bats.

He has had enough flashbacks to piece together that Batman is Bruce.

He's tired.

Angry.

Frustrated.

He's been living for months without knowledge of who he used to be and having to deal with random flashbacks and trying to piece together what his life before looked like.

The bats taking Bernard is his last straw.

He decides to start by breaking into the manor and looking for Bernard there.

Bernard, meanwhile, is desperately trying to convince Bruce and the others that he has no idea where Tim is, that he didn't do anything to Tim, and that Tim has amnesia.

They don't believe him until Tim shows up and goes all-out trying to attack them and escape with Bernard, but Bernard is the one who manages to calm him down and convince him to listen to his family.

It takes a while, and a lot of proof, but Tim finally regains his memory.

He and Bernard officially start dating and move back in together.

They like to joke that Bernard had the craziest introduction to the family, despite being a civilian.

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 3 - Weak and Alone

The hairs on your body stood up for a good while before you could relax again. You didn’t know meeting the yellow bat would be this fucking terrifying. Like, c’mon man! You fought many weird, crazy, dangerous, and scary things in your life as a hero, why was coming into contact with one of this world’s heroes that terrifying?

And besides this guy was just- is just a human, not a mutated creature or even an alien, just a regular human like you. But something about him just- put you off.

Crime in the mornings are so rare, how bad was your luck for it to happen when you were there? Wrong place and time, maybe? Or your luck is just shit and that’s that.

You don’t even question how this guy found you-er the robber. Even if he was in the area, Oracle or the other Robin must have been on surveillance duty or something. If you recall only two of Batman’s wards are mostly the “man in the chair” type. Oracle because of what happened to her with the Joker and one of the Robins because he’s one of the smartest ones. Or something like that.

Regardless, you’re okay now. That’s all that matters.

Hands in your pocket you remembered you looted the guy earlier. Taking out  some cash you realized this guy had money. He had three-hundred, so why try to rob a convenience store? Well, whatever, not your problem.

You’ve become really good at pushing your problems to the back of your head.

What is now your problem is finding a library. Lifting your mask back on your face you continue to march forward, regardless of direction. Picking a random bar from your snack bag, you begin to eat it under your mask to calm your stomach so you can think.

“Okay, cheap food and non perishables are what I will live off of.” You don’t plan to stay in this wack world for long, so saving money is key. “Next, find layouts, maps, anything to get a semblance of where I am and what I can do. I need information, and lots of it. Third, I need a generator to power my gizmo. Finally, supplies to build a GHM. ‘Go-Home’ machine.”

So far things are looking very bleak but that's okay. No worries. Um, on the bright side, you haven’t glitched at all, so your gizmo watch isn’t totally off the record. As long as it’s still connected and alive, you’re sure Miguel can find your signal.

You did just suddenly disappear during a fight that was basically your mission that Miguel sent you on. That means Miguel already knows of your unfortunate case and should most likely be looking for you, right? 

He wouldn’t abandon you, right? He’s the one that recruited you after all! He came to you. He knows of your existence and predicament. You have somewhat of a mentor and student relationship for fucks sake! He wouldn’t leave you stranded in favor of his issues with Miles…right?

You’re not getting forgotten… right?

You matter…right?

No! You can’t think like this! You also can’t put all your spiders in one web. You need more options, alternatives. Whether Miguel is looking for you or not (you choose to believe he is), you need to find a way to either go home or get in touch with him.

You gotta do things your own way.

You’re smart, resourceful, use your brain! 

You’re good at improving, inventing, and repairing- a tinker if you will. Taking things apart, fixing what’s broken, or building things. That’s one of your strong suits- it’s time to use that big beautiful brain of yours to find out what’s wrong with this watch.

So in order to do that, you need materials. So how would a broke but smart pretty woman such as yourself find materials that won’t catch the eyes of the batsonas? Simple. One man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.

That’s right baby!

A junkyard. 

Now to find a junkyard, you need a map. So to a library you go!

With newfound determination and energy, forgoing any unsavory thoughts and focusing on buildings and landmarks.

Getting pretty far into the city you managed to find a public library and mentally fell to your knees begging to all the gods to not run into any and all of the bat family here.

So you pass through the automatic doors and immediately feel relaxed. Honestly being in this world makes it hard for you to even feel safe when everything and everyone could be a potential danger to you.

Not to mention how quickly and easily some of the criminals can escape. You reeeeeally don’t want to face the villains of this world. You’d rather your own Vulture than their Scarecrow or whatever. 

Giving the librarian an award winning (and non suspicious) smile, you made your way over to the row of computers. Sitting further away from the camera, you sit down and stare at the dull desktop.

“Okay, good, I’m here, no bats in sight, now what?” Feeling slightly overwhelmed you took a deep breath and then checked the date and location. 

Reading the latest news was beneficial, now you know just who is in Arkham and who’s free at the moment. Thank the gods that the Joker is locked away. You really aren’t ready to face the big bad baddies of this world. 

Soaking in as much information as possible, for hours you learned the latest news, Batman sent the some criminals to Arkham, Bruce Wayne hosting a charity event in a couple of months, Dick Grayson is coming to Gotham (why?), Lex Luther’s recent scandal, Superman saves the earth (again), Damian Wayne’s anticipated art museum opening. Wow, nothing interesting. 

Nearing four hours just sitting there, you decide to call it quits and pull up maps one last time. Double checking your information you make sure that everything was like you never touched it and thensome. 

Waving good-bye to the librarian you headed off to the large junkyard you found. The walk was pleasant and free of crime. Fuck you daylight robber. Though you know it isn’t true, crime happens everywhere and anytime, just some are quieter than others. 

Arriving at the junkyard, you realized just how ginormous it is. Walking around you spot an abandoned warehouse, where equipment usually is stored and you jump with glee. Knowing there are no working cameras around here, you rest easy knowing you can just go ham on tinkering to your heart's desire.

Setting your bags down, you look around. There are tools that were left behind and you were ready to kneel and thank the gods. Looking at the equipment and workbench, you’re thoroughly pleased with what you have to work with. Shedding your hoodie, you step outside and into your paradise.

Finding many useful and discarded materials you quickly get to work in picking apart metals and material. Dragging them inside the spacious warehouse you go back and forth picking and dragging materials.

And the day flew by, just like that. It’s already late afternoon and you looked over your work.

You’ve made great progress with gathering materials. Having a mountain inside the warehouse to work with and on the workbench there was already something in the making. You’re building what is essentially a charger and beacon for your web watch. 

This will give out a signal for Miguel to latch onto and discover your location. The only issue is if Miguel is looking for you, this will help greatly. The other issue is, you need energy, and lots of it. Sunlight here would suck with how gloomy Gotham can be.

So direct sunlight can’t be its only source. 

Regardless you’ll fix and create the panels anyways. For now, since it’s late, you’ll take a break and fix this place up. 

Sike, you just make a web hammock on the ceiling and web your bags to the wall next to you. After discovering the owner of the motel tried to get inside your room (that you fucking paid for) while you managed to finally catch some Zzz’s, it was decided to just leave.

Though you still need food and a place to do your necessities. Maybe you just have to suck it up and go through the centers here.

Sighing in the silence, your mind began to spiral.

The warmth and comfort of uncle Ben as he took care of you when you had nightmares, the gentle embrace of aunt May when you had succumbed to fevers, and the loving presence of Peter Parker when you were at the brink of it all.

You miss them, god you fucking miss them! You hadn’t felt those things in years, not after closing yourself from everyone when you lost them. Sure you had the mentor and student relationship with Miguel, but you never let yourself get close.

Not with Miles and the others, because you felt like a protector, a role model, someone who can’t show weakness.

Not with the hundreds of other Peter Parker’s either. Those Peter’s are just as smart, charming, dorky, and special as your Peter Parker. But they aren’t your Peter Parker. And they never will. Your Peter was even more special, more smart, more charming, more dorky, more charismatic, more everything! He was everything! And then… he left.

No, he didn’t leave.

You just couldn’t save him. You must not have been enough for him. You had seen the signs! You could have done something! But you didn’t. You got complacent, cowardly. Afraid to lose what you have. 

Uncle Ben’s death taught you to treasure what you have before it’s taken away. Aunt May’s death taught you to keep things as they are, so they don’t break. You vowed to never make those mistakes again.

So when you met Peter Parker, you made sure he knew just how much he meant to you. How special he was, and how important he is to you. You weren’t blind, you noticed the painted smiles he wore at times. How life seemed to be dragging him down. But you were too afraid, too complacent. You didn’t want to tip the scales and possibly break something too fragile. You never pushed, or prodded because you knew if someone did that to you, you’d leave.

But the most important thing was that Peter isn’t you. Peter was strong, faaaar stronger than you, he isn’t glass. He held on for soooo long, and still tried to hide his pain from you. But you knew. You also knew that Peter knew that you knew. You just never pushed.

Peter Parker’s death demonstrated just how powerless you are. How much of a coward and paranoid you became. If you just talked to him, maybe he would still be alive. 

With you…

Maybe, you would have accepted his confession once you mustered up the courage to take a leap and accept his feelings for you.

Just maybe.

But, there is no maybe anymore. There will never be Peter Parker and You. Because there hasn’t been another you so far. 

And you live with that guilt and hatred towards yourself. But if Peter’s death taught you anything else, it’s to keep moving.

You have to keep going, for Peter’s sake. And for your sanity.

Because the more time you spend in this universe and not in your own, where you can visit Ben, May, and Peter’s graves, you are slipping ever so slightly.

You’re losing your fucking mind.

You just want to go home.

-

“Nothing Bruce. It’s only been a day but so far nothing.” Catwoman’s sharp voice cut through the silence.

Batman doesn’t reply in acknowledgement but nods and leaves the rooftop, leaving Catwoman peeved.

“I told you I’d keep looking, maybe it was nothing. You’re just too paranoid.” She huffed before going her separate way.

Batman felt his eyebrow twitch. First, this disturbance that apparently leads to nothing (that’s not true, he can feel it.) Then it’s news about a freak who caught two crooks beating a civilian. At first he didn’t pay it any mind until they kept spouting about a person in a suit shooting a sticky substance.

Gordon couldn’t get a sample because of how sticky the substance was and only for it to dissolve thirty minutes later. Jim Gordon also couldn’t add anything to this person’s claim because it was night and dark and he could only see the silhouette of the person.

But then again, that’s just two things that were off. A coincidence sure, but he doesn’t really believe in coincidences. Not in Gotham.

Placing his hand on his earpiece he spoke, “Anything?”

“Nothing to note. Maybe she’s right. What if this shift was just a coincidence?” Oracle replied.

“Not likely,” He heard her huff, and he sighed. “But not impossible either.”

Oracle would take that over a paranoid Batman any day. It’s the closest thing to an agreement then she will ever get. “I’ve been scanning the whole day but so far, nothing. Not even something similar.” She mumbled to herself.

Just as she takes a small break and sips on water, she hears footsteps approaching.

“How can I help you, Duke?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you if you're busy. Looks like you could use a break.” He replied.

“Honestly, yes. With the whole issue near the East End, I need it.” Barbara swirled her chair around to face Duke.

Duke rubbed his neck in apprehension. “Did you-”

“Find anything?” Oracle finishes for him. He nods. “No. Scanned her face and everything but nothing came up. Then I checked beyond, outside of Gotham. Truly nothing. She’s a ghost.”

“Or, maybe a survivor?” Duke proposed.

“Possibly. Many trafficked survivors and escapees have made it to Gotham.” Barbara entertained the idea.

“Do you know where,” after a hesitant pause he let his hand fall to his side, a slight glint in his eyes that went unnoticed. “She is staying?”

“She was staying at a motel near Park Row. She hasn’t returned since.” This was cause for alarm for Duke but he kept it in.

“Where-” He tried.

“Relax Duke. You know most would call this- what’s the word, ah, stalking.” Barbara teased, causing Duke to flush slightly.

“You’re right. I just…” He straightened up before he chuckled at his memory of you. “I never got her name.”

“That’s cause she never threw it. Not even the guy from the store got it.”

“Alright, thanks though.” Duke nodded and headed out.

Barbara bid him well and returned to the screen. Wondering how you, a random civilian, caught Duke’s attention. But then again, after scanning your face on the screen she too couldn’t help but find herself unable to look away. 

And yes, you could say that you’re pretty, she can see that, but there is just something about you that makes you different and she can’t figure out why. Just what about you has her curious. But then again you are a civilian and she won’t mix personal interest with work. 

Despite parading that Bruce was being paranoid about the disturbance in the air. It was strong enough to send an alert to her, and it could be something dangerous. But it happened so fast that you could blind and you would miss it.

For now, the thought of the pretty civilian will be put on the back burner, but not forgotten. She’ll get to you when she solves this stupid case in front of her. That and the mysterious spider person that three people (not including her dad) apparently saw.

“Coincidence? Probably not.” typing the keyboard she clicks enter and watches the monitor scan Gotham for the same frequency as the disturbance to see if she can put up anything, even a trace.

Nothing.

Clicking enter, she watches the screen again.

Prev; Next;

I realized have like ZERO outline for a fleshed out story sucks balls. Well, let's see where this goes together. I ordered some Signal/Duke comics and I am excited to see them arrive. Anyways, which new bat person do you think you'll meet next? There is only one right answer and it isn't Duke.

You're name isn't Tinker, but it's probably what I'll use as your alias.

[grimdarling69]

Another Deaged Dan and Ellie or otherwise known as Crack pt7

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6

Diana of Themyscura had met many evil men, but few had reached the evil of Lex Luthor. He had kidnaped batmans son, tortured him in numerous ways, and forced him to create a portal? They weren't completely sure about the specifics of the machine. It was obviously a portal, but to where?

Batman had called them in after taking heavy fire when they marched on Luthor previously, and the Justice League founders were currently investigating the area.

Superman especially. He's currently in the medbay recovering from emergency surgery. His sons were sticking near him after the very near death from Luthors' new powers. Last she heard, Lois had arrived on base to support him as well.

"I already told you. They are as safe as they can be." Luthor repeated under her lassos effect. He was tied up on the floor because it was the only thing that was able to stop him from using his powers.

Zatanna and her contact were currently working on a cell for him based on the mystics. Hopefully it was soon.

"Fine. Let's try another question. How do we work the portal?" She tightened to ropes.

"I don't know. My... little badger did most of the...work."

"Don't you dare call him that!" The Red Hood stomped over, picking him up by the lapels on his suit.

"You have no right to call him anything after what you've done. You're so goaddamned lucky I ain't running this mission cause if I was, I'd have ground you to dust underneath my feet and served your head to him." He growled green reflected weirdly in Luthors eyes.

"Red Hood. Back down." Jason growled but roughly dropped him hard enough he heaved as he hit the ground and curled over.

"Never thought you'd be such a killjoy, Wayne." They didn't freeze they were all much to good to freeze, but she could tell it was a near thing.

"That's right. He told me about all of you. He was more than happy enough to tell me everything." Luthor baited them. Batman growled and approached him with a furious snarl.

"Don't let yourself be led astray by anger." Diana advised him. She received the alert that the cell was ready and loaded him up to bring him to the closest zeta. Batman watched her all the while a contrast from everyone else that avoided even looking in her direction.

-----‐----------

"Fuck that hurts." His son complained but didn't shy away from them. Damians never complained before. The giant yeti stood by assorted through what he can only guess as their medical supplies before finding greenish tinted bandages in strange container. He angled his body infront of Damian shielding him from whatever that was soaked in.

"What is that?" He questioned hesitantly."It's fine, Richard, it's just ecto-aids." Damian answered with full confidence. He couldn't take it any longer and pulled the last stitch through gently before rising and starting to pace erratically

"Damian. I promised myself I would take this slow, but I can't. I have no-no! idea where we are, who anyone even is, and why the fuck you're almost a completely different person." He waved his hands around erratically ignoring the yeti placing the 'ecto-aids' on the counter snd leaving.

"We-are in the Far Frozen, in the Infinate Realms where all afterlives exist together. It's the very foundation of the mulitverse."

"What the fuck are even talking about?" His jead was hurting s d he barely restrained him self from screaming in frustration.

" I am...a reincarnation of the High King Phantom, my-his real name was Danny Fenton. He was a superhero."

"I don't-no I don't understand...what- how?"

" I think i should start from the beginning. Maybe you should sit..?" His son asked his voice gentler and almost fragile. Damian wasn't fragile. He'd seen him take out mountains of goons 4 times his size, but for the first time in years, he truly looked all his fourteen years of life. He sat down beside him and bumped his shoulder a silent show of support hopefully.

"In that life my parents were scientists who studied..." For hours he listened as Damian recounted his previous life occasionally telling his own short tales to make him feel better.

"So Lex Luthor is your godfather from another life?"

"Yes, but he prefers Vlad. He doesn't mind, Mr. Luthor, but he hates Lex." Damian winced.

"Well, this is going to take a lot of adjustment. My whole view on life has been fundamentaly been altered." That is a severe understatement. He's met people who've had past lives, but knowing his own son had one was a...adjustment.

"I...understand if you want me to leave."

"What? Damian-"

"It's fine. I understand if you think I'm to..to different..."

"Damian, you are right that you're different, but we're all a little different. The whole family is batshit crazy you know. We would never kick you out."

"But I was difficult before, and now I'll be even worse. I can't even go one day without getting into fights. I'm...wrong-."

"You are perfectly fine just the way you are." He took Damian face between his hands.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. I am so proud of you. You have come so far in just the short few years I've known you. You overcame your past and you can overcome this to."

"I'm scared. What if-father doesnt-...want me?" His lip wobbled, and his eyes glistened in the warm light.

"Bruce loves you. You're his son. And even if somehow Bruce doesn't, I'll be right here because you're my son too. My Robin. It's okay to be scared. Courage is not the absence of fear -"

"But the triumph over it. Do you know how many times you've told me that? I couldn't count it even if I kept a journal. I would never admit to being afraid to anyone but you." His son finished his quote.

"Then why did you run from me?" He could admit that the question had laid heavily on his mind. There wasn't anybody he trusted more than Damian, and he thought he shared the sentiment.

"I knew that if stayed I'd put them in danger." Damian tried to escape his hold on his head to look away but Dick refused to let him go.

"Who, Dami?"

"My-my...children."

"What? How? You're a-"

"It's more like incubation for ghosts. Dan and ellie, the siblings I told you about. Their bodies were injured and discorpolated to the point they had to retreat to their cores. Because of their pasts, they wouldn't have enough strength to heal, so I am hosting them." Many people have hosted...things before and he's sure ghosts are different, but he's heard of spirits and parasites before.

"Oh. That's a lot but it's not...hurting you is it?"

"Not..typically."

"What do mean?" Please don't make me lose you again.

"I needed to get to Frostbite to check if there are any complications, but because of circumstances, it's complicated." He admitted looking anywhere but his eyes.

"What circumstances? What complications?" He tried to keep the desperation out of his voice but he fears he only made himself sound frustrated.

"The Lazurus Pits. I believe they are corrupted ectoplasm. Frostbite would know more about this than i do. I believe that after I got more pure ecto, the corruption was flushed out, but I need to make sure." He makes a note to ask Frostbite about Jason later.

He opens his mouth to ask again, but Frostbite came back. "Is everything all right? Some of my people heard yelling in here?" Dick goes to speak but is interrupted before he can. Damian shakes his hands off and scoots away from him on the table.

"Everything is fine. We were just about to use the ecto-aids." Damian lied convincingly. The yeti sighed, obviously not believing his less than convincing act.

"You requested a check-up? On the young cores, am I correct?" He questioned, moving on from the subject. Dick didn't remember Damian saying anything about the cores, and he had carried him all the way here. He turned to Damian in question.

"We're ghosts, or I'm a halfa, but we do a lot of emotional speaking and sensing auras. Every core has a special ecto-signal, and most can see ecto-bonds aseell. He's obviously put the dots together. It's not hard." Damian explained. The more he learns, the more concerning it gets. He gives Damian an unimpressed look.

"Quite right. It's a special bond that traverses lifetimes that you two have!"

He turned to damian questioningly but he seemed just as lost.

"I sensed the small ecto-signal that I used to sense from your older sister. I thought you already knew?"

"No, no, I don't sense anything. Everything is diluted. I didn't even sense vlad until he was right in front of me before."

"Hmm, let's come back to this later and get you checked out first to make sure there aren't any immediate problems. I may just be mistaken. Jasmine was always a liminal. She never even reached ecto-contamination levels of a halfa." He pondered.

"Wouldn't i atleadt recognize some things if I was her? Dejavu?"

"I doubt it. You might have the soul of her, but without the ecto, you might never regain the memories."

"And we are not contaminated him just to test a theory. No experiments." Damian said with distant eyes.

"Of course, great one. It was merely a thought." And with that the conversation was over and the examination begun.

------------

Stephanie rubbed her eyes with expensive lotion tissues she'd called pointless, but Alfred always kept in stock. The tissue box was blue, and there was another green one beside it. The universe sure had a way of being funny.

"Care for a snack Miss Stephanie?" Alfred asked her with red rimmed eyes, he carried a plate with fancy cheeses and crackers with funny shapes.

"Thanks, Alfie." "Of course,miss." She sighed and ate the lightest cheese with an almost cat-looking shape.

"Do you want one Cass?" Cass was laying on the med bay bed with several bandages crisscrossed on her upper body. She had a heavily wrapped foot and her hair was secured with numerous brightly colored pins to keep it away from the healing scars.

She shakes her head slightly. Steph sighs and stands from the spare bed and takes the tray with her. She spares one last glance to her mourning and benched best friend.

Duke is dressed as signal sans mask bent over the batcomputer. His stance reminds her of Bruce and she can't help but smile. Duke nods his head at her.

"How is she?" He asks, typing and reading several reports. "Sad." She sets the tray on a nearby counter close enough for Duke to snack. He sighs and finally sits down in the chairs.

"Green Lanturn visited the island yesterday. He says it isn't alien."

"Which one?"

"Guy Gardner." She hums thoughtfully. She's met the guy only once before. He seemed a bit hot-headed, but she's heard of good work from him before. Jason's bike sounded out from behind them. He ripped his helmet off and slammed it down on the counter. The tray shakes, and the cheese mixes with the crackers in a pile.

"Amy leads?" She asked him ignoring his anger. He was getting better and now this.

"Do i look it panned out, blondie?" She sighed and pulled herself onto the counter.

"Zatanna had a contact look at the portal. They said it 'reeked' of death. Refused it to get any closer. Deadman is going to check it out today." Duke interupted them.

"What about Constantine?" She took the subject change.

"Still missing. Zatanna found his house yesterday. There was a note of a poker meeting in hell for a piece of his soul. Bruce thinks he lost and pissed of a demon he couldn't escape."

"You've got to be kidding me. How many people are going to go missing?" Jason started ripping off his armor and disappeared into the changing rooms. Hopefully, for a shower, he reeks.

"The Titans went back to the island today."

"How was that?"

"Raven ran into Zatanna and offered to look for Costantine in hell."

"Seriously? That's the worst idea ever."

"Batman said that to. She's probably going to go through with it still, though."

"Obviously."

"Hows your mom?"

"Good. She's worried about me. I keep telling her it's okay, but everyone knows about the cover story kidnappings by now."

" I still think the cover is bad. I'm surprised they even bought it."

"The press will buy anything that makes cops look bad. After that shootout at the mall last week, not a single person got hurt apart from some bruising, but everyone is dumping on the pigs now. Bruce is pissed."

"True. It was just some desperate kids trying to get quick cash anyway. They didn't even have bullets. Now all i get from Bruce is that I should have stopped them from pistal whipping that security guard."

"No shit?" The zeta tube rang out suddenly.

"Spoiler. Signal. Gather the others. We have a lead.

Fucking finally.

------‐---

Dick Grayson was no stranger to restless nights. Being a circus act turned vigilante, he'd been used to working well through midnight. Then he became a cop then Bruce 'died', and he quit. Then he came back and he had to say bye to his son and took a gymnastics training job. Much more flexible hours but just as exhausting. Classes, people, and training all day. It challenged even his extroverted attitude.

The coffee in this dimension wasn't anything like his own. It had an almondy taste to it, and he'd assume it was poisoned if he hadn't already drunken 2 cups a day since he got here.

It never got cold even if he left it out all day in the biting storms outside. It would be a little watery but still hot. He very much enjoyed that. He could drink room temperature coffee, but he still hated it.

They'd been staying at a log cabin in the Far Frozen since they got here four and half weeks ago. He'd questioned just about every yeti and random ghost about raising ghostlings, and hes pretty sure they run in terror when they see him coming by now. He sighed and set down his empty mug.

He spends just about everything day questioning ghosts, Frostbite visits, and spending time with Damian. Rinse and repeat. Don't get him wrong, he loves spending time with damian it was just hard. It's obvious they're running out of time. Bruce will get the portal fixed one way or another and come get them, and damian is scared out of his mind.

His nightmares haven't been this bad in years. It's gotten to the point that Damian starts out the night in his bed. Damian didn't talk in his sleep before it was mainly mumbled. Now it's all he hears.

(Please...I'm alive-im alive-im a real...person)

He gets his own nightmares as well. He sees Danny on the table. Strapped down, his hair, a white dewy halo. His green eyes glow, unseeing. A mix of red and green blood surrounding them. He's struggling with the wounds. Pushing the organs back in. Taking out the rib stretcher. Pushing them back in. Stapling his skin. His hands are covered in blood, both green and red. He thinks they might be a mix of Jazzs memories and his own imagination.

The toaster popping up pulls him from his thoughts. He picks up the burning bread. Swearing loudly and tossing the bread from one hand to the other all the way to the plate. Why didn't he just grab the plate? God he's fucking dumb.

The oven timer beeps, and he grabs his much needed mitt. He pulls out the golden brown biscuits. Alfred would be proud. He's not a bad cook, no matter what the others say. He's just a distracted and experimental one. Alfred often banned him from his experiments growing up trying to cook his parents' meals from memory. Alfred had, of course, pulled up recipes and even made calls. It just didn't taste right it was missing something he'd argue. Now that he was older, he thought maybe the circus was missing things and his parents substituting it the best they could.

He grabs the butter from the fridge and pulls back the wrapping to use the end of the stick on the biscuits. Damian hates when he does it 'unsanitary and gross', but come on, he has to do it as quickly as he can. They're also the only ones who have to eat here! Damians ghostly friends have been bringing back food from the real world for then to eat. He's trying not to wonder where their getting the food.

He grabs the honey jar and uses the fancy stick he can't remember the name of to spread the honey everywhere. He even puts some on his toast. He flips the last few pieces of suspicious looking fake bacon onto the resting plate. The Lunch Lady Ghost had brought for them saying he had to get protein somewhere, but if you ask him, it looks...iffy. He made extra biscuits just in case.

He loads the biscuits and toast on one plate and another for the fakon. He balances two cups of orange juice in one hand and holds the plate with his stomach and forearms. He nudges the slightly open door with his foot. The ghost dog 'Cujo' nips at his ankle and hopps around his feet excitedly.

"Down boy." He jokes half-heartedly. The dog takes his command very seriously and lays on the ground tongue halfway out his mouth. His wagging tail is undeterred by the wood intangiblely sweeping through in wide arcs. Damian is asleep under the covers his body to used to his footsteps to register as a danger anymore. He's trying his best to treat this as a vacation instead of getting used to it, but he can't help but admit he'd love to do this every morning. Making breakfast for them every morning, coming home or driving to pick him up every afternoon, no longer making do with calls and canceled weekends.

"Dami... wakey wakes, eggs, and bakey..." he sings, rubbing his shoulder. He sets the orange juice and plates on their one nightstand next to the baby 101 book they probably all read in Robin training already. He grabs his toast and a biscuit off the plate.

"Five more minutes..."No can do, baby. We've got a busy day today." Dami groans and rubs his face. His hair is much longer than three and a half months ago, no longer under Alfred's tutelage or gels, and now free to curl. He can't resist the temptation and runs his hand through the wild curls. Damian swats his hand away without any real heat, and he jumps on the bed, crawling over Damian and informing his squawk of protest to his side of their bed.

Damian sits up and snatches a biscuit and the baby name book underneath the other book. He pushes the book across the bed without a word.

"Did you find what you wanted? I thought you were going with Dan and Ellie. Like before." He notices a paper sticking out of the book, and he opens to that page. A small paper with Damis fancy scribbling is sticking out.

Dante Jasmine

Eleanor Richard

He sucks in a harsh breath.

"I-I had a rough time deciding on either Dante or Jordan. But I thought he'd like Dante more, you know. Do-do you like it? The names? Is it... okay?" Damian places a hand on his stomach where their cores are resting. They're growing stronger by day. Damian had let him hold his hand there just last night and feel them kicking? Pulsing? It was hard to tell, but Frostbite assured them it was normal and that any day now, they'd phase out. Frostbite had said that ghosts barely incubated for more than a month it only took so long because both the cores and Damian were weaker.

"It would be an honor. To have her named after me. And if Frostbite was right, both of them." Damian smiles and takes a bit of the biscuit. He barely manages to keep the happy tears in.

"I wanted to talk to you about something else as well."

"What Dames?" The last word sounded more like 'duhs' after he started eating his biscuit.

"Tucker stopped by when you were out interagating the yetis yesterday." He blushed and stuffed the rest of the biscuit into his mouth. "He said Constantine was asking around at big leagues poker last week. They invite Tuck all the time, probably to suck up to the Big Guy in charge, you know.

"Since he's been looking after the throne for you?"Yeah, he's been doing a pretty good job. we'll probably revisit it when I'm older, but he said that he was looking for a pair of lost heroes."

"He described us?"

"Yeah, Tucker said it was pretty accurate, too. Even called in some favors. Tucker thinks he suspects something with the dimensions."

"Is he suspicious?"

" I don't think so, but Tuck said he pissed off some demons."

"Enough to go after him?"

"It's John Constantine. What do you think?" Damian said, folding his arms and squinting as if to say 'really?'.

"Fine. You're right. Should we help?"

"I'm sure the league will go after him if anything happens. I'll put some ghosts on the trail. Some cute blob ones, maybe." The league...Bruce.

"We should talk about Bruce." Damian looked away.

"What's there to talk about?" Dick scooted closer, catching a glance at the dog curled below damian on a pillow.

"Bruce loves you damian."

"You already said. God, you're starting to sound like a broke record. Did you know that?" Anger. It's easier to be angrier than admit you're scared. He'd know that well.

"It's true. I know you're worrying about it."

"Do you really think Father will undersrand? Understand them? Leave it alone?"

"You're his son, of course he can!"

"Am i? Am I his son? Or am I just another obligation? A reminder of his mistakes." Uncommon tears threaton to fall from Damians face. Reflecting in the early morning light.

"That's not true. He loves you." God, he was broken record.

"But does he like me? Does he really trust me?" Damian turned to him, fully letting him see the falling tears.

"Of course he likes you. You're his Robin and his son." He reached out a hand to wipe the tears from his face. His heart aches for his son.

Damian threw himself into his arms. His head made his way onto his neck and shoulder. Clutching and gripping his clothes. Dick grabs him and does his best tonadjust him into a healthier position to not hurt either one of them. There's a damp spot on his shoulder, but he ignores it.

"I'm your Robin too..."

"He's your dad, dami." He mutters into his hair. He uses his fingers to soothe the knots in his hair out as gently as he can.

"I wish-wish you were my real dad... not Bruce." Please don't say that. Please, you don't mean it. Damian starts sobbing and shudders against him. Shaking the both of them. He tries to soothe him. Rocking them back and forth.

"Dont say that. Don't do this to me -" He tries his best to get rid of the thoughts. Of them being actual father and son. Of him being able to take Damian home. Of not having to worry about Bruce's reminders that they're brothers. That he's Damians father, not him.

"You're his son." A reminder to himself just as much to Damian that he's Bruce's, not his. Damian just sobs louder. His heart breaks into pieces, and he tries to comfort him, rubbing circles into his shoulder blades. He turns his head and kisses his Baby Bats forehead. This angle allows him to see his face. It was soaked and reddened from the tears. Damian tries to bury himself closer to him.

"No-no..." Damians sobs into his arms. His jacket is drenched.

[thebigbadbatswife]

OCT 19th - Hand Job

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Title - This'll Be Fun

Summary - You grow bored during a League meeting and you decide to test Batman’s resolve.

Warnings - Hand Jobs, Public Hand Jobs, Exhibistionism. (if i missed something lmk)

Word Count - 970

You glance at the time and internally groan. It’s been three hours and this meeting continues to drag on. The longer that you have to sit still, the more that you want to move around and do something else, but all you can settle for is bouncing your leg. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Bruce looking over at you. You glance over at him. The two of you have never really needed words when it comes to each other. The smallest look or touch says everything. It’s not great for long, complicated conversations, but it works just fine for simple questions.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Bored.’

The corners of his lips twitch as he returns his focus to what Dinah is saying. Anyone else would miss it, but not you. It’s the advantage that comes from knowing each other for your whole lives. Which also means that he knows you. Which also means he really should have suspected this.

Your chairs are so close together you may as well be sitting on his lap. If you were anywhere else you would be sitting in his lap. Until you can do that, you’ll just have to settle for this.

Slowly and carefully, as to not draw attention to both of you, you bring your hand to rest on his thick, muscular thigh. He very quickly glances at you and back to Dinah again. Your fingers graze the inside of his thigh, slowly trailing upwards. 

He makes a half hearted attempt to try and bat your hand away, while also doing his best to not draw any attention toward the both of you. You’re not so easily deterred and, to your surprise, he gives up rather fast. Is he curious to sit back and watch how far you decided to take this?

When your fingers finally brush against his cock, you find that he’s already semi hard. No wonder he gave up so quickly. Bruce, apparently, likes the idea of getting off in the middle of a League meeting.

You adjust your position in your chair, making it look like you’re stretching. Your new position makes it easier for you to palm him through his suit. He swallows thickly and you can feel his cock twitch beneath your hand. Other than that, you see no other indication that any of this is even affecting him. 

Oh, so this is a challenge, is it? Challenge accepted. You really want to see if you can actually get him to crack. 

Though your eyes are focused on Dinah, you’re not hearing a single word she’s saying. All of your focus on Bruce. You can feel him growing harder and thicker beneath your hand. The thought of his cock almost has you salivating. If it wasn’t for everyone else in the room, you would happily be on your knees with his cock halfway down your throat. You’re glad that J’onn isn’t around right now to hear your thoughts. Though, maybe, that would move things along faster and you would be left alone with him to do whatever you want. 

You stop palming him through his suit and your hand moves higher up. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him glance back over to you. You ignore him, focused on your new goal. Freeing his cock from his stupid suit. If he was wearing one of his armoured suits, you wouldn’t have a chance to and you’d have to settle for just palming him. Fortunately he’s not, so you don’t have to.

As soon as his cock his free form his suit, you wrap your hand around it. There’s still no reaction from him. Just another quick glance over at you while his face remains completely neutral and his breathing barely changes. His cock is a completely different story. Fully hard now, with the head red and with the tip already leaking, it’s begging for you to touch it. 

You wrap your hand around his cock and begin to slowly stroke him. As you do so, you pay close attention to him, looking for any cracks in his straight face, but there’s nothing. He continues to remain neutral, even going as far as to answer a question Dinah directs toward him. His voice doesn’t sound strained and he doesn’t waiver or crack slightly when you swipe your thumb across the tip. You may have known him your entire life, but now you’re wondering if he’s been replaced with some sort of android. How else is he not reacting to what you’re doing?

The longer you touch him, the more you’re convinced of the android thing. He continues answering questions and putting his own thoughts forward while also taking the time to berate Hal for something. All the while you’re getting him off and he’s acting like nothing is happening at all. 

As much as you dare to, as to not draw attention over, you quicken the pace at which you’re stroking him. You can feel him growing harder and thicker in your hand as he draws closer to his orgasm. Maybe you’ll finally get the reaction you’re looking for when he cums. 

You don’t. Instead all you get is a deep inhale, followed by a deep exhale as his cock twitches and he covers your hand and himself in his cum. You tucked him back into pants and wipe your hand on his suit. 

Moving away from him, you cross your arms across your chest. You’re disappointed that you were unable to make him crack. Maybe you’ll get him to crack next time. If there is a next time. As he adjusts his cape to cover himself, he catches your eye. There’s a promise in his eyes. 

‘You are going to pay for that.’

And you really hope that you do.

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[luludeluluramblings]

Stephanie Brown's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: I really wanted to get this done. I loved the idea of Stephanie being the type of yandere to copy their obsession. Like their clothes and personal preferences. I really had fun with this, so hopefully I got the right idea across.

A/N: Dick's part will have to come with Part Seven. He's the last to fall into complete obsession, but he'll be just as yandere as the rest.

Warning: Yandere Themes

When Reader is introduced to the family, Stephanie is a bit ticked and… jealous. Yes, she knows Reader’s parents tragically died, but Stephanie couldn’t help it. Especially when she heard all about Reader’s starry-eyed childhood.

Stephanie had the luck of having Cluemaster as her father. While Reader had Batman as theirs. That should be enough to justify being a bit envious. But, finding out Reader had such a good relationship with their Step-Daddy and that they were basically Bruce’s favorite with no apparent effort on their part made that resentful feeling a bit harder to shake off.

Of course, Stephanie wasn’t going to bully or attack Reader. She’s a vigilante because she believes in justice. She’s not her father. She’s not above effectively ignoring Reader whenever she comes across them.

Despite that, Reader seems desperate to make a connection with her for some reason. It takes some time before Stephanie decides to take pity on them and throw them a small bone of attention. Treating them like a typical acquaintance even though Reader fiercely desires a friend

By some odd phenomenon, the two actually form a bond. Reader, by all means, has a better relationship with Duke and Cassandra, but that could be chalked up to them being more welcoming than Stephanie was at the beginning. Besides, it doesn’t matter all that much to Stephanie.

She’s started to realize that they’re more alike than she originally thought. They may be opposites brought together by circumstance. Still, Stephanie can’t help but wonder what it would be like to be them. They already have a lot of interests in common, maybe they could have more things in common over time.

Tim’s research on Reader makes it easy to find out more about Reader. To explore what Reader’s other interests are.

It isn’t until Reader is kidnapped right in front of Stephanie’s eyes that things start to spiral.

She feels culpable for the entire incident. Bruce confirming that it is her fault cements it. She can't stop feeling undeserving of Reader’s time and attention after the matter. They had yearned to spend time with her in spite of her resentment at first, and she let them get taken by one of Gotham’s top criminals. She watched them look right at her with terrified and pleading eyes and she did nothing.

She still wants to spend time with Reader. So if she digs into Tim’s files on them to try out more of their hobbies it’s just because she misses hanging out.

If she starts eating their favorite foods it’ll be like sharing the experience together. If she listens to their music it’s like they're still spending time together. If she starts copying their style it’s alright, she just wants to feel closer to them. She just wants to be as close as she possibly can, since they’re so alike anyway.

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following.  It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish.  She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone.  At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work.  “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up.  Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh.  Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?”  Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands.  “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film.  It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”  

“That’s… really weird.”  Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.  

Lois does laugh at that.  “It is, a bit.  But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says.  “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says.  Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.  

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says.  “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.  

“You can tell me,” Lois says.  “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.”  Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.  

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up.  Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back?  She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again.  Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories.  Those are all Batman.”  That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.  

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension.  But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home.  There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says.  "He's a good friend of mine.  And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully.  "Right.  I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him.  He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins.  "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice.  Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension.  Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on.  Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off.  If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says.  “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted.  “I— yeah, that works.  Not like I have anywhere else to be.”  He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

[hydrngea]

gyming

a/n : this was a very self indulgent fic that’s very unedited but i hope you enjoy!! this is gonna be a series of short somewhat connected blurbs of gymbro!rafe :))

summary : your first time at a new gym doesn’t start off too great until you meet your new gymbro. | rafe cameron x f!reader, rafe is a gym rat in this, reader is extremely thirsty and downbad lol, fluff.

navigation | masterlist

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it took you a good 2 months after moving to the obx to try out the local gym.

you know, you know. there’s nothing really to be afraid of; you know how all the machines work and you don’t have to worry much about your form. it’s just now that you’ve moved away for college, you don’t have your best friend working out side by side with you. and it’s got you nervous.

you finally mustered up the courage after a long facetime call with her. you were gonna do it. expand your horizons.

you felt instantly relieved when you walked into the gym and it was empty. you always thought that nine o’clock at night was the perfect time to go, since all the machines and benches were empty a couple hours before the gym closes.

you look around. there’s about 4 people in the gym other than yourself.

there’s some guy in the corner by the deadlift platform that seems to think he’s batman;with a weird all black getup, wearing…combat boots?

another two are a really cringe high school couple. bleh.

and then the last one by the bench presses.

woah. he’s hot. you think, panning him from far away and taking him in. he’s literally lifting triple the amount of weight you can. you didn’t even know the arm had so many muscle groups.

alright, maybe this new gym isn’t so bad.

you find your way to an open bench and put your stuff down. you stare at the plates for a good minute or two and wonder what would be the best the start with. you decide on a safer weight to warm up. it has been more than a few weeks since you’ve benched.

you lay onto the bench and place you hands into position, puffing out your chest while sucking in a tight breath.

you push up on the bar and immediately regret your overconfidence. the weight moves too heavy, yet you still force yourself to continue with reps.

2…3…4..

you’re so close to hitting 6 reps, but suddenly at the end of the forth one your arms give out and the bar begins to fall on you chest.

you do your best to prepare for the blow, but it never comes. you blink a couple times and realize a pair of strong hands have pulled up the bar from you and a handsome face mirrors yours.

oh god. it’s him. the cute guy.

“easy there, sweetheart.” his gruff voice cuts through your thoughts you immediately fall in love.

he places the bar onto the hinges with ease and you quickly sit up on the bench, face burning. your hands are as red as a tomato from the right grip you had on the bar, and your wrist aches from the failed lift.

you pull your headphones off of your head and turn your neck to look at him, “i’m so sorr-“

you begin to apologize but he cuts you off with a chuckle.

“nah, what are you apologizing for? i’m sorry for not asking if you wanted a spot earlier.”

earlier? did he notice me earlier?

“this used to be my warm up.” you say with your head low, a small scoff coming out during the beginning of your sentence.

the stranger shrugs, “well for the first few sets it looked like you were handling it just fine.”

you raise a brow, not able to control the sudden urge for flirtation that comes upon you. “were you watching me?”

he crosses his arms over the bar and leans against it, shaking his head which caused his hair to shuffle a bit and his muscles to flex in the most mesmerizing way ever.

you’re sure you gawking at him and that you should probably avert your eyes from his body but you kinda can’t help it.

“of course i was. couldn’t stop but notice the pretty girl that walked in.”

you roll you eyes at the comment, shaking your head. “i doubt that i’m pretty.”

he scoffs. “you’re the prettiest girl in here.”

“is that because i’m the only girl in here?” you question, undoing your loose ponytail to redo it.

“you know what i meant, pretty girl.”

“mm. sure…pretty boy.” you test out the nickname and he smiles at you for the first time. you swear your feel butterflies all over your body at the simple action.

he takes a step out towards the front of the bench to face you. “how ‘bout we spot each other so we don’t get hurt, pretty girl?” he suggest, a lop sided smile curving onto his gorgeous face.

god. why are you so down bad for a guy you just met?

“why not?” you acquiesce, sending him your own mirroring grin in return.

you think it’s safe to say this won’t be the last time you’d visiting this gym.

—————

taglist (dm/use ask box if you’d like to be added!) : @maybankslover @mrsstarkey1 @a-aexotic @tee-swizzle @penny4yourthoughts @sangytv @poguesworld @willowpains @sweetestdesire @softsatnin

reblog + comment and i’ll do the same for you :))) my dms are always open if you’d like to make a friend !!

[earlgreylatte]

(Hal Jordan x Blue Lantern Reader) Where Hal is the one that grounds you after a big reveal and the Justice League is always in everyone’s business.

“Three life forms detected.”

Hearing the status from the ring, you and Hal exchanged glances, finding that the abandoned planet you two often visited in between missions wasn’t as vacant as you initially thought.

“Hello—!” Cupping your hands around your mouth you began to shout out, only for Hal to immediately envelop more than half your face with his stupidity big hand, as he pulls your back into his chest.

“What are you doing?” He hisses, looking around worriedly, as you try to shove him off you.

“No one is ever here but us, someone might have gotten stranded here,” you explain, trying to look up at him.

“That doesn’t mean you should go announcing yourself to a possible hostile!” Hal retorts, tightening his grip on you.

You’re sure Barry or Batman would have felt vindicated amusement in how your usually reckless, highball partner was forced to take up a certain level of caution when paired with you. While Hal Jordan was an optimist, even he had nothing against a wielder of the hope ring.

“So what? No one can stand a chance against a Blue Lantern and Green Lantern, you’ve said that way too many times to count,” you finally escape his grasp before turning around to face him, “Besides, if they need help, it’s my duty to provide it.”

The man before you sighs tiredly, shooting you a wry grin. “Maybe you should have been the Green Lantern with how stubborn you can be, berryblue.”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

*

“Come on, there’s no one here! We’ve been here for hours—“

“Less than a hour.”

“Let’s head home, order some takeout, watch watch whatever tv show you’re obsessed with right now, maybe fool around a bit-“

“Hal.”

He groans, before splaying himself against you, relying on you to keep him upright.

“It’s been so long since we’ve been alone, don’t you want me to take care of you?” His hand travels lower, giving your bottom a generous squeeze, eliciting a strangled yelp and punch from you, which he only laughs at.

For a second, you think he somehow flustered you enough that your knees felt weak enough to buckle, but with how your head felt like it was being drilled from the inside, you conclude that this goes beyond Hal Jordan’s charm.

“Babe,” he starts, but stops when he sees you bring up a hand to massage your temple. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I’m fine, Hal,” You assure him, gently pushing him off.

You can already tell he’s furrowing his eyebrows beneath his mask before he brings his hands to grasp your arms, pulling you closer to inspect your face properly.

“Your ring should have negated anything like that. God knows how many migraines—“

“Hangovers.”

“—you’ve cured for me. Something’s going on.” He frowns.

“Just tired. We haven’t been home in months, it’s probably just taking a bit of a toll,” you reply, ignoring the way your vision becomes blurred.

“More the reason we should go, then.” He declares, his face hardening into the determined expression you’re more than familiar with.

“Not until we find whoever else is here.”

He groans out your name in exasperation.

You’re sure that he’s giving you a lecture about self-care, probably adding a salacious remark or two. But you’re unable to register him when the world around you begins to tilt.

*

He’s calling your name. Not ‘babe’ or some other embarrassingly gushy pet name . He’s definitely worried. So when your eyes flutter open, you’re not surprised to see the distress on his face as he cradles you to his chest.

“How long was I out?”

“You…only a couple minutes,” he answers, his grip on you tightening for a moment, “Come on, we’re going home.”

Scowling, you squirm in arms, but his hold remains steadfast, much to your fond irritation. “It was just a dizzy spell—“

“That was not—!”

“I’m fine. Besides, we still haven’t found whoever else is here!”

“They could be the Pope, and I still wouldn’t give a shit!” He bites back, his hand flexing on the meat of your thigh, mindful enough to not strengthen his grip on any further.

You furrow your brows, I mean, yeah, you’re literally Jewish.

“Give me a boost, will you? I’ll have us back in the watchtower before it’s Spooky’s feeding time.”

When you remain still, he jostles you lightly, but you avoid meeting his gaze.

He growls out your name impatiently, before softening.

“I’ll have Guy or Kyle do a scope here as soon as we get you checked out,” he promises.

“It’s probably nothing,” you grumble, before acquiescing, focusing on his ring and augmenting its output, “Gently, Hal.”

“Only because you asked so sweetly.”

*

Powered down and tucked into a med bay bed, you toyed with the ring on your finger as Hal finished off the leftovers of the meal J’ohn brought you.

“Sure you don’t want me to get you anything else?” Hal asks leaning forward on his chair.

“I’m fine,” you reply absentmindedly. You’re sure he’s looking at you with that dumb, loving expression he gets around you, when his brown eyes soften enough to resemble melted chocolate, so you avoid looking at him lest you break.

He places his hand over yours, giving it a light squeeze, “You were just overworked, don’t worry, Nurse Jordan will you have up and running in no time.”

“Liar. You were the one saying something has to be really wrong for my ring to not cancel everything out,” you scoff, trying to fight back a smile when he winces guiltily. “Well, your bedside manner isn’t too bad, though.”

With a soft grin he climbs onto your bed, nestling one of his arms behind you so it’s wrapped around your shoulders, moving around until you’re settled against his chest, as he uses his free hand to lock fingers with yours.

“You’ll be just fine,” he quietly assures, thumb rubbing against your hand soothingly, “After all, there isn’t anything we can’t figure out together.”

“Because of our rings?” You mumble as best you can with your cheek smushed against him.

“Because I’d literally tear reality apart for you and you’re my stubborn, intelligent, gorgeous girl that’s going to outlast everyone.” he responds casually. You really can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “But yeah, the whole ‘strongest weapons in the universe’ thing too.”

You let out a breathy laugh, nuzzling against him, only straightening up when J’ohn returns, expression as enigmatic as ever.

“One of the functions of the hope ring is to keep its wielder in peak condition, especially since its speciality is regeneration, correct?” He asks.

“Always wakes up without an ache or creak in her back, her ring surpasses mine in that regard,” Hal comments, squeezing your hand.

“Yes, I think its effect on your physiology is more proactive than anyone could have anticipated.”

“Just spit it out,” you sigh, wanting to rip the bandaid off.

The Martian clears his throat, suddenly look awkward, “There really was no way for you to realize, with the ring working to negate any symptoms and attempting to keep your body in optimal condition, that you are…with child. Second trimester, I would guess.”

You’re very sure that you’re brain just blue screened for a second, jolting back into reality when a tension you didn’t notice in your partner immediately faded, “Oh thank god.”

You look at him incredulously as he grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, sorry, but I was really worried it was something terminal or some galactic virus!”

“Weren’t you telling me not to worry earlier?”

“Yeah, you’re a Blue Lantern, worrying is my job between the two of us.”

J’ohn clears his throat again, pausing your debate, “We can have our on-staff medical team oversee your…condition, or we can refer you to trusted OB-GYN on Earth. While rare, a ‘cryptid pregnancy’ is still completely safe. It’s just good we were able to catch it so early.”

“Yeah, imagine if you randomly went into labour in the middle of space,” Hal states, visibly shuddering at the thought.

You groan, burying your face in your hands.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss this privately,” The Martian excuses himself.

You feel two large hands wrap around your waist, and in an instant Hal has manhandled you in his lap, his back hitting the pillows you were just propped up on. He buries his face into your neck, humming contentedly.

“What are you thinking?”

“What are you thinking? You’re awfully calm when this is probably the last thing you’d want, flyboy.” You retort with a bit more venom than you wanted, but he only nuzzles his nose near your pulse point.

“I’ll admit that when I got this ring, I figured I wouldn’t do the whole family man thing. I mean there was a point where my feet wouldn’t even touch the ground, between sector shit and the airfield,” Hal starts, “but being with you, I realized that I wouldn’t have to ever tie myself down because it would never feel that way with you. Not that I would mind you tying me up.”

Despite your best efforts you laugh, and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Whether we’re on Earth or on the other side of the sector, I’d be happy as long as you’re the one holding my reigns. Lantern or not, I know we’ll be okay. So being married to you and raising a kid…what’s not to want?” You remain silent for a moment before relaxing against him.

“I won’t say I’ve never thought about this before and the ring is definitely going to make the process unfairly easy,” you begin quietly.

“Oh, yeah, bet there are a lot of ladies that just hate your guts for that alone.”

“So, I—,” you pause for a moment, Hal patiently waiting, “I want to do this. With you. I mean, I’m scared but overcoming fear is kind of our thing.”

Hal’s hand comes up to tilt your head back to press his lips against yours. The angle is a bit awkward, but Hal leaves you breathless nonetheless, and even now, he’s smiling.

You pull away with a shriek, when his other hand reaches up to grope your breast. “No, just like I thought, it’s definitely bigger. More sensitive too.”

“You’re the worst,” you complain without any real heat.

“Hey, just checking!” Hal grins deviously, giving you another squeeze before you’re interrupted by the sound of a certain bat clearing his throat. You would have jumped out of Hal’s arms if not for his grip on you, clearly unashamed of cuddling you even in Bruce’s presence.

“Hey, Spooky, here to congratulate us?” Hal asks and you resist the urge to elbow him for being so obvious, but the other man only hums in affirmation and you realize you should have known nothing goes unknown to the bat.

“And to assist in anyway you two would need.” He approaches you and hands you a pile of—

“Brochures?” Hal observes. “‘How to handle your super bundle’, ‘How to go from Superhero to Super Parent’—who the hell made these?”

“Not like we’re having a super baby that could try to claw out of me ‘Alien’ style,” you note.

“While you two are both normal humans, that doesn’t mean you won’t have our support in having a new responsibility added to your already busy lives,” Batman affirms, “We will also set up a college fund when your child is born and cover medical expenses and the like. And—“

“Wait, too much info,” you massage your temple, “Since when did we have all these resources? Oh, Clark wasn’t kidding when he said you paid his rent!”

Bruce only smirks in response. Rich people.

“Alright, alright, we get it, maybe don’t try to send the love of my life into an existential crisis?” Hal interjects. Softie.

“We can talk more later. Some of the parents in our community have monthly meetings. I’m sure Barry will be sending you invites and reminders as soon as he finds out,” Bruce says, looking vaguely amused.

“Hold on, how many people know? How did you even find out? Did J’ohn tell you?” You question, furrowing your brows.

“As soon as you two arrived, Clark heard a third heartbeat, and we all know he can’t contain himself on these matters.” Bruce explains already heading for the door, deeming the conversation done. You have no doubt he’ll be popping around Coast City in the coming months though.

“He’s such a gossip, or more like everyone here is,” you complain, “Better tell Barry and Ollie while you can. They’ll be mad if they find out from the grapevine.”

“Guess we got a lot to do when we get back home,” Hal muses with a stupid grin, probably already planning out a green, space themed nursery.

You hum, leaning back into his hold before jolting. “Third life force!”

“Huh?”

“The—ring—third life force! It knew!” You sputter out, glaring at your finger accusingly.

Hal stares at you for a moment before bursting out in laughter as his shoulders shook, once again burying his face into your neck, which did very little to muffle him.

“Hal!”

Low key my worst fear, but it’s Hal and I think he should acquire a child if dc isn’t going to write him being a big bro to air wave. Also I want his dick LMAO

[capr1pengu1n]

Hi! Hihihi! big fan here!

I am fiending for something mouth watering, torturing, jaw dropping smutty fun with our boy from Assault on Arkham. Female reader please. Maybe she's a nurse working a shift at Arkham or a therapist or care tech? I'm just seeing total domination, daddydom/zaddy type vibes. But feel free to do whatever you feel.

Thank you for your time and consideration!!

Tata~!

Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue

Summary: While on shift at Arkham Asylum, what should be a routine check on an injured inmate turns into something a whole lot more.

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), Assault on Arkham!Eddie, dom/sub dynamics, praise and degradation, choking, rough sex, fingering, face fucking

Words: 4.4k

Notes: Thank you so much sweetheart, you're too kind! This gave me an excuse to rewatch his scenes on yt (mgg really is one of the perfect voice actors for him, even with his sometimes dodgy vocal deliveries)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being a nurse meant seeing the truly ugly side of Arkham Asylum; the dangerous patients always being one movement away from lashing out at times. You didn't mind your job, in fact it was rather rewarding at times to help those you could, being able to feel as if you were making a difference in this cesspool of a city.

But many of the inmates you knew you couldn't trust, dangerous criminal masterminds who were constantly using Gotham City as a battleground for their many wars with the batman. And you knew deep down that The Riddler was one of those men. But still, he'd been nothing but...kind.

Well, maybe kind is a little bit too strong of a word. But he'd always been one of your better patients, never giving you too much trouble. And you couldn't deny the tiny part of you that lit up when you saw his name on your rota, no matter how much you pushed the feeling down in the crevices of your mind. His snarky smile would always be waiting for you when you administered the pills that he most likely just hid under his tongue, or to patch him up whenever his big mouth got him into trouble.

It seems today was one of those days, as you made your way to the rather empty infirmary and saw Edward laying in bed, flicking through a book without a care with one hand, the other handcuffed to the side. The doctor that saw to him had been rushed off his feet, rumblings of a mass riot causing all of the staff to be more overworked that usual, if that was even possible for a place like this. Still, you stood by his bed and closed the privacy curtain.

"There you are sweetheart, I was beginning to believe i'd been forgotten about. A distressing thought, i'll have you know."

You can't help but laugh softly at his dramatics, as he lowers the book to his side to give you a look at his face. A cut was across his cheek, not overly deep.

"Ah yes, this. Well that'll teach me not to display my mental superiority at dinner time, lest i'm slashed again. I really should have enacted some sort of revenge before one of the idiotic guards blundered in."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nothing more than a scratch, my dear."

There's that smile again, self-satisfied and smug, but with a hint of something else. He adjusts himself so he's sat more upright, watching with sharp eyes as you look through his medical chart, not missing the slight confusion on your features.

"Does anywhere else hurt?"

"If i say my chest, will I get to remove this horrid jumpsuit?"

You flush in spite of yourself, laughing softly at his insinuation which delights him greatly. Placing the chart down, you look back at him as he adjusts himself yet again.

"I see no reason why you'd need to stay, I can call for you to be escorted back to your cell now."

"Yes about that," he starts, looking around in a dramatic manner, "why is there no guard here anyway? Don't tell me they hardly see me as a threat? I'll have you know I-"

Shaking your head, you interrupt him. "No no, there's rumors of a riot starting. Everyone is on high alert. And it seems that there's a mistake on your chart...it says you have a broken leg. I doubt they thought you'd get very far."

The momentary annoyance of being interrupted dissipated when he heard your words, and he lets out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh the ineptitude of these fools truly never fails to amuse me." With a smirk, he tilts his head as he looks at you before continuing. "But i'm sure a girl like you wouldn't have made a mistake like that."

At his praise, you can't help the flush of pride that swirls in your chest despite who he is, as you smile softly. Pleased with the way you respond, he reaches up and gently tugs you closer to the bed by your arm.

"Does it take truly so little to flatter you?" he asks, causing you to look away for a moment before he squeezes your arm. "No. Look at me."

You do as he says, looking at his eyes through his glasses, before nodding a little. "I guess not..."

"Pity." he murmurs, looking at your chest unashamedly. "I'd have thought you'd be used to compliments, looking like that."

You feel the embarrassment and excitement bubble up in you at his words, despite your better judgement, despite the fact that a criminal mastermind is flirting with you and you like it. Forcing yourself to clear your head, you glance away yet again.

"Thank you."

"No problem darling."

Before turning to leave, he coughs slightly to get your attention.

"Hold on a moment. You really think it's a good idea to go out there? You said it yourself, a riot could break out at any moment." he declares, his eyes firmly fixed on yours.

"Well...yes. I could always go with the guards, they'd protect me."

"I could protect you." he says without missing a beat, without blinking. The look of shock must be evident on your face as you look at him.

"Why would you do that?"

"Why do I do anything?" he challenges, the rattle of the handcuff cutting through the room.

"...you do things when they benefit you." you say softly, trying to match his gaze.

"Exactly. Or maybe I want to protect the pretty nurse who always turns a blind eye when I don't swallow my pills."

"I-I don't-"

"Don't lie sweetheart, it doesn't suit you."

Hesitating, you glance down to where his hand is cuffed to the bed. This is a bad idea, an awful idea and you know it. But your apprehension is delicious to him, and he leans in as best he can.

"And you like the idea, don't you? Of The Riddler's protection?"

You swallow audibly, not denying his accusation. "I can't...i'm not Harley Quinn or anything, i'm not gonna go running off with a psycho-"

"Don't call me that." he snaps harshly, his tone serious and even making you flinch a little. Upon realising, he clears his throat a little in an attempt to calm down. "I'm not trying to dump you in a vat of acid to prove your devotion darling. I'm simply saying I could protect you."

Upon being under your gaze yet again, he puts on a smirk. "Besides, I'm not blind. The way you look at me is quite different than the way the other dimwitted orderlies do. It's...refreshing."

You release a breath, shaky and slow as you weigh up your options here. If a riot does break out...he probably could protect you. And it's not like he has any reason to harm you, right? Nodding slightly, you try and come up with some pathetic excuse before he interrupts you.

"What time is it?"

Slightly bewildered by the question, you glance at your small watch and reply, "About 7."

He hums, rolling his neck. "Might be a good idea to get me out of these handcuffs sweetheart."

Frowning, you go to ask him why before the power goes out. The room is plunged into darkness, causing you to jump at the sharp noise of the lights going. Frantically you stumble to try and head backwards before you feel a hand grasp at your waist, and suddenly you're pressed against a man's broad chest.

"Okay, I may have lied about needing your help to get out of the cuffs." Edward murmurs, before laughing smugly.

Panic sets in as you scramble to get away from him, but he only laughs harder and uses both hands to hold you still.

"Oh please stop struggling. You know I could overpower you. But I meant what I said darling, I'll protect you." he coos into your ear, and you can feel the satisfaction radiating from his smile in waves as he lets go of your arm.

"Now, be a good girl and barricade the door when the lights come back on."

"How do you know the light's will-"

With a bang, the lights come back on, and on instinct you follow his instructions. Regardless of the morally dubious actions of the serial killer you've found yourself with, you know how bloody Arkham riots can get, so self preservation wins out as you take a chair and push it against the door. Barricading yourself in with The Riddler.

He watches you carefully, half expecting you to make a run for it, but being slightly relieved when you trail back to him. "Good."

"How did you know when the lights would go off?"

"You're a smart girl darling, figure it out."

He must have known about the riot, hell he might have planned it. But what you couldn't understand was...

"You planned the riot, or at least knew. But why aren't..." you pause, as he steps closer, too close, "why aren't you trying to escape?"

He chuckles, lifting his hand to cup your chin. "Oh you naive girl. You think I orchestrated this just to escape? Perhaps I was wrong about you, or perhaps you're just too modest."

Observing the look of realisation on your face, he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone. "You can't taste it until you undress it, what am I?"

You can't deny the hitch in your breath at his, albeit cheesy riddle, which causes him to laugh more. "The answer isn't what you're probably thinking, but it's still an apt description of what I want to do to you."

What he wants to do to you. That's all you can hear rattling away in your brain as you let him stroke your cheek, down to the side of your neck.

"And trust me my dear, I want to do a lot of things to you."

"Like what?" you ask, the words spitting out without processing, but he smirks anyway.

"You want me to tell you? Tell you how much I want to dominate you completely? Have you completely at my mercy, as this whole asylum tears itself apart from the inside on my orders?"

You couldn't suppress the small whimper that escapes your lips even if you tried, as you nod your head. Instead, he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, slender fingers gently squeezing.

"How about I show you?" he rasps out, before slamming his lips against yours. It's all consuming, the way he keeps you still with his grip as his tongue forces it's way into your mouth. He explores every inch, reveling in the small moans he swallows as he uses his other hand to grab your hips, pulling you against him so you can feel the bulge straining against the garish orange jumpsuit.

"Get on your knees." he growls out against your lips, and you drop obediently. "Good girl, you're learning your place."

Not deterred by his condescending words, you gaze up at him as his fingers fiddle with the zipper of his jumpsuit, freeing himself after a moment. Your eyes immediately dart to his hard cock, watching as he pumps himself a few times and gently rests it on your cheek.

"A man can get certain...urges in a place like this. A lesser man would have probably resorted to his own hand to achieve momentary gratification, but I knew...I knew if I waited, victory would be all the more sweet."

He taps his cock on your lips, and you open and let your tongue gently run along the head. Gritting his teeth, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, keeping you still and not allowing you the privilege of tasting him just yet.

"Ask me nicely. Tell me you've wanted me the same way." he demands.

"I've wanted you." you reply, staring up and giving him the most pleading expression you can muster. "I've always been attracted to you, I've always wanted you Edward."

He groans quietly, running his cock along your lips once again, humming appreciatively as you seem to have learnt your lesson in keeping your tongue to yourself.

"I do love you saying my name. But I think a different word is in order, after all, i'm here protecting you."

You know he's desperate for validation, desperate to feel superior and in control, but god you want to give it to him so badly.

"I've always wanted you sir." you ammend.

"That or 'master' will do." he smirks down at you, before tapping his dick against your lips deliberately. Getting the hint, you open up and let him push your head. Luckily he gives you the grace to not shove his whole length down your throat, pushing you halfway before letting you set the pace. You get to work immediately, bobbing your head as you suck, blinking up at him to observe his reactions.

You can't deny he looks stunning, his frown and brow lines relaxing as he lets you service him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment to truly indulge in your wet mouth. He'd been in Arkham a few weeks now, and if what he said about relieving himself was true, it really had been a while since he felt such carnal pleasure.

As he opens his eyes again, he looks down at you once more, stroking your hair as you moan softly around his cock. While he certainly isn't going to admit it, he's relieved you were so eager to get on your knees for him, happy he got the signals right, happy he wouldn't have to admit that his lust was unrequited, what's he thinking, he's the riddler! Any woman would be lucky to have him, he's a specimen -

His thoughts are stopped when you push further, taking him deeper into your throat before pulling away for breath, taking him in your soft hand and jerking him. He let's out a slightly higher pitched noise, before growling and gripping your hair with both hands.

"Arms behind your back dear, let's see if I was right to choose you."

You do what he instructs, taking a deep breath before he pushes his cock into your willing mouth. This time he doesn't hold back, holding you in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth, before pushing deeper. Suppressing the urge to gag, you moan brokenly around him as your fingernails dig into your own arms, willing against your body's natural instinct to put your hands on his thighs and push against him. Instead you behave, letting him fuck your mouth and take his pleasure from you.

The look on your face has him getting close rather quick for his liking, but he's way too desperate to care. Glazed eyes, spit covered lips and chin from where his cock is pushing out your saliva, he thinks you look gorgeous. His one hand remains in your hair as his other grips your jaw.

"So good for me...fuck, almost makes me wish I hadn't had those idiots cut power to the cameras in here. Seeing my favourite nurse choking on my cock..."

He moans softly, cock pulsing as he gets nearer his climax. Rhythm faltering, he desperately ruts into your throat, wanting to cum so badly it almost hurts. All the while he's mumbling and muttering how slutty you are, how much this is usually beneath him, how good your mouth feels until-

"I'm gonna cum, you're gonna, shit, swallow it...swallow it all." he demands, before his hips still as he pumps his cum down your throat. Choking, you do your best to swallow all he gives you before he releases the death grip on your hair. You pull away and gasp shallowly for oxygen.

"What do you say?" he says condescendingly, although you don't miss the laboured breathing that betrays his excitement.

"Thank you." you start, but the firm tap on your cheek gives you the incentive to rephrase, "Thank you sir."

"Better. You know how few people can say they've had the privilege of The Riddler fucking their face?"

Despite how fucked up morally you know it is, you can't help but feel slight pride at his words, knowing that it's you who he chose to sleep with. He tugs you up by the arm, before humming and squishing your cheeks together, tilting your face from side to side as he appraises you.

"How about you lay on the bed." he says, and despite the phrasing, you can infer from his tone that he's not asking. So you do, hearing the cheap infirmary bed creak as you lay down. Outside you can vaguely hear noises, yells and chants mostly, but you try your best to tune it out as Edward makes quick work of ridding you of your nurse uniform. He gives a wolf whistle, smirking shamelessly.

"Not bad at all." he mumbles, which you assume is quite high praise for him, as he gropes your tits roughly. "I knew I wasn't wrong to have been taken by your looks. It's a bonus you have half a brain in there somewhere."

Feeling a little mean, he gives one of your breasts a sharp slap, grinning as you flinch and squirm. He repeats the motion, and again for a third time on the other one, before soothingly massaging the tender skin.

Before long, he can't resist parting your legs to get a good view of your dripping cunt, needy and pulsing after being treated so roughly by him.

"Oh poor thing." he coos, the falseness of his sympathy only adding to your arousal. "Do you need master's help?"

You can only nod pitifully, as he brings his fingers to your clit and circles slowly, as if observing the consequences of his actions. At your hips jerking, he uses his other hand to pin you firmly to the bed, the structure squeaking under the weight. He continues to play with your clit, alternating his pace and rhythm to keep you on edge, never quite allowing you to reach the peak of the satisfaction he could bestow upon you.

"Such a needy hole, look at it. It's just begging to be filled, isn't it?" he asks, to which you nod again. In response, he slaps your cunt harshly. "If i wanted to talk to myself, i'd have simply jerked off in the safety of my isolated cell. Speak."

"Yes, yes I want to be filled." You say quickly, embarrassment fading away to let the desperation uncurl its claws in your mind. Seemingly satisfied, he slowly pushes two fingers into your pussy, barely suppressing the groan at how wet and hot you feel.

Starting to pump his digits, he curls them to press into your g spot, watching as you tense and make soft moans at the sensation. His other hand wraps around your neck, smirking at your wanton desperation.

"So quick and eager to have a criminal's fingers inside of you. And a nurse at that, don't you have a duty of care?" he taunts sadistically, languishing in your shame and embarrassment as he keeps fucking you harshly with his fingers. You try and shake your head, but you can't with how he's choking you ever so slightly; a reminder that your life is in the hands of one of Gotham's most feared supervillians. And your cunt has never been wetter.

But you aren't the only one affected. Edward was never the type of man to be able to go multiple rounds, and age didn't exactly help that fact. But whether it was being in the Asylum, his abstaining from self pleasure, or just you, he was hard as a rock again and itching to know what your pussy might be like around him.

"Please..." you start to beg, slightly dazed from the onslaught of sensations.

"Please what, hm? Please stop? Please fuck me? Oh please I want to be fucked by the greatest intellectual this city has ever known?"

You can hardly digest the intense self importance he's displaying as you nod again as best you can. "Please fuck me sir."

"Getting better, but say it louder. More conviction. I'm not an easy man to please." he threatens, moving his fingers faster, practically bullying the inside of your pussy as he releases the grip on your neck, allowing merciful oxygen to grace your airways.

"Please sir, please fuck me. Please make me yours, your slut. Please." you beg between moans, body tensing.

"I will." he assures you, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his face to observe your fluids, "but you should know, you became my slut when you so willingly got on your knees for me."

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him as he kneels firmly on the bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under you. You almost voiced your thanks at the action, before he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit.

"Once more, for good luck."

What an asshole, he doesn't even believe in luck, you think to yourself, but the stimulation on your core was leaving your breathless and needy, so you indulge him.

"Please fuck me master, I need you. I need The Riddler."

Playing into his ego, his persona, almost always works (not that you know that, opting for an educated guess instead) and he rewards you by sinking into your pussy, moaning uncharacteristically higher pitched. Once he bottoms out inside of you, he takes a moment to really take in the scene in front of him, before grabbing hold of your hips and starting to move.

You moan, the fingering causing your cunt to already be sensitive and on fire with urgency as he starts to fuck you. He bends over you, taking his glasses off and placing them at your side before starting to move his hips faster, determined to rid you of any other thought but him.

"That's it, fuck, go dumb on my cock for me." he encourages, as your eyes glaze over. "My dumb little nurse, so willing to spread her legs."

Not being able to deny his accusation, you simply hold on to his arms for dear life as he picks up the pace even more, thrusting into you and watching your cunt soak his cock in your wetness.

"Making such a goddamn mess." he grunts, leaning down and slapping your clit for the sake of it.

You whine at that, body jerking in response as he chokes out a small chuckle. Soothing it, he rubs circles with his thumb in time with his thrusts, content with the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips. Outside, the noise of the riot were obvious now, and he uses it to his advantage.

"What if someone were to see? Would they think i forced myself on you? Or would they see you for what you truly are? A whore who wanted one of her patients to fuck her." he demeans you, and all you can do is attempt to shake your head.

He tuts, leaning so his breath tickles your lips. "I told you, lying doesn't suit you sweetheart."

Perhaps you were a whore, for wanting a man like Edward to make you feel something, but you can't hope to deny that what he's making you feel is good, so damn good.

"I'm a whore." you mumble quietly, before he groans. He feels your walls tightening around him, can feel the way your body is tensing as you near release.

"Say it properly, and i'll let you cum all over The Riddler's cock. How about that?" he says it like he's giving you a gift, something so unbelievable that you should be grateful he even considered it. But either way, you give in.

"I'm a whore, i'm your whore sir." you manage to get out between punishing thrusts, nails digging into the meat of his biceps. "I'm The Riddler's whore."

He moans, slamming into you with conviction. "You're damn right you are."

You're unsure if that meant you had permission to cum, but between his thrusts and his thumb playing with your clit, you knew you couldn't stop it as you cum hard around him. Your back arches, giving him a hell of a sight as he chases his own orgasm brutally.

"Yes that's it, take it. Take what i give you...take my cum, god you're so lucky. So privileged, so-"

He cuts himself off with a groan, mumbling your name as he buries himself completely inside of you as he finishes. You squirm softly at the warmth of the sensation, but not being able to go anywhere due to the death grip he has on your thighs; you're most certainly going to have bruises.

After a few blissful moments, he pulls out, admiring how your cunt flutters around nothing before his cum slowly leaks from your used hole. He gently reaches down and collects some on the tip of his finger, before pushing it back inside, laughing at your overstimulated gasp.

"There. Now wasn't that more enjoyable than running to the guards for help."

Giving him a sweaty nod, he climbs off of you and fixes him jumpsuit, before rolling his shoulders and standing up. You force yourself to sit up a little, watching as he smirks.

"I'm a little ahead of schedule, I confess I was foreseeing a little more convincing on my part for you to let me bed you." he says, uncharacteristically self deprecating, now matter how slight.

"Ahead of schedule for what?" you ask, before your answer is revealed when he picks up an empty chair and smashes the window.

"Oh sweetheart, while I did want to fuck you, did you really think i'd not pass up the opportunity for escape? I think my sabbatical has reached it's conclusion." he announces, walking over and grabbing your wrist to look at your watch. "The morons should have neutralised the guard post by now, if they actually listened to what I had to say."

At your hesitance, he smirks as he lets go of your wrist and leans down to give you a lingering kiss. "Perhaps i'll visit you again, you certainly made quite the impression on me."

At a loss for words, you stutter out a quick "okay" before he turns and begins to climb out the window. Not before turning for one last look at you.

"I really should have left a mark, people need to know you're mine now. Get changed sweetheart, in my estimations you have about ten minutes."

With that, he's gone, and you're left on the bed, cum dripping from your cunt and sweat slowly evaporating from your naked skin. Still, you suppose, he did protect you from the riot.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(perhaps one day I will include a daddy kink in my writing, but alas I fear today is not that day)

[wondersinwaynemanor]

Bruce Wayne's kids rarely visit him in the office at Wayne Enterprises. except: when they need him for something very important that it couldn't wait to be discussed at home, or when they surprise him for a special occasion.

so he gets a little suspicious when his kids show themselves to the office, popping by to the boardroom's door, either waving at the distance, or offering him a smile, just to let him know they're present in the building. Father's Day is still due for a couple of months and so is his birthday. so why?

when Bruce goes to his office room, there's a cake being held by Dick. Bruce doesn't miss the nervous smiles the kids have on their faces, and the fidgeting and whispering between siblings.

Dick: Just a little cake for you, B.

Cass, signs: Hope you like it.

and how can Bruce not be in awe at that?

his suspicion fades once he enjoys the cake with his kids.

but it strikes back when he enters an oddly quiet Wayne Manor. the kids nowhere to be seen as he checks a few of the rooms. when he goes down to the batcave, he finds an explanation as to why the kids have visited him in a random day at the office.

(the batcomputer's screen is shattered!!!)

somewhere in the Manor, Bruce's kids all hide in Dick's room, like tiny ants crouched on the floor, with a table and a few chairs blocking the door, as if that would help when Bruce goes Batman mode. not to mention the large windows.

Dick: He's here, he's here!

Jason: Fuck, fuck. Why did I choose today to visit the Manor?

Steph: We should have found ways to repair it.

Damian: That would be impossible given the hours we have.

Duke: We should have gotten a new one, or something.

Tim: We should have snuck in at Wayne Enterprises to get the equipment we need. Instead of the surprise plan.

Cass, signs: At least B was happy about that.

they all hold their breaths, when they hear the Grandfather clock chime.

Damian: This is ridiculous. We should have ran off.

Steph: For goodness sake! Someone start ideas to build a secret safe house somewhere for our sanity.

Tim: Good suggestion, Steph. I'll keep that in mind.

Duke: Speaking of suggestion, whose suggestion was it to play soccer at the cave in the first place?

Dick: Clearly none of us are sports material.

Cass points at Jason, remembering it was his idea.

Jason: I-Fuck. It was easier for us to go to patrol after we played. Plus, it's not my fucking fault the screen shattered.

Tim: It's still on us, cus everyone was present.

Steph: Clearly, none of us are going patrol now.

Duke: It's still my first few months, but now I'm benched.

Damian: Father is gonna cut off our heads.

Tim: He's gonna display our heads in the cases, instead of our suits-

Jason: Fucking not helping, Timbers!

Dick: Shush now. We should start strategizing.

Steph: No. We should start digging our graves.

Damian: Next to Todd's.

Jason: Shut up, brat.

Tim: I should have gone to the office. Fucking finals.

Duke: Dick, you're the eldest, please tell us what to do.

even Cass, signs: Please.

Dick, sighs: Maybe we should go out and apologize. I'm sure he'll understand. We have broken a lot of things in this house for years now.

Jason: Yeah, but never the batcomputer.

Dick: Dammit.

Cass, signs: Wait, stop talking.

and everyone stopped talking.

Duke: I don't hear B.

Steph: Is this a good sign?

Jason: Maybe he's off to patrol.

Damian: Father would not let an issue like this slide without lecturing us.

Dick: Come on. It's time for patrol anyways. We have to apologize.

together, they all exit the room, watch every corner and silently go down to the Batcave.

and alas, the batcomputer's screen has already been fixed. good as new.

Jason: What the fuck.

Steph: Wow.

Duke: Bruce works fast.

before anyone else could add a comment, Bruce clears his throat behind his kids, already suited up for patrol, which makes them jump except for Cass and Damian. they all wait for the lecturing.

Batman: Why is no one else ready?

Tim begins to speak, but Damian cuts him off: Right away, Father.

Dick, claps his hands together: Let's go, everyone.

and they scurry off to their lockers.

Batman shakes his head with a light smile on his lips, turning the batcomputer on, and starts to dig on the latest case in Gotham.

Kids.

[dairy-farmer]

Is me~ back to haunt you Ask Box o/ because I just had A Thought(tm)

What if~? The OPPOSITE of my Magic Sex Toy idea? Uno Reverse?

But how would that even work? You say. Tim would very obviously notice!

Oh ho ho~ ye of little Faith! *slaps my "join the Church of Civilian Tim" poster I obviously made myself* CONSIDER! Not a cape! Semi-stable schedules!

We open our scene with stalking. As ya do. Tim would prefer you call it "bird watching" or "observing the night life" but... let's be real here. Stalking. He's getting them NICE Premium Pics for his Definitely-Not-A-Stalker-Shrine. There's a newbie on the scene. A gaudy robe wearing mofo.

3 guess what HIS shtick is. First two don't count.

But! Thing is? Tim is no long a wee baby faced pre-teen. He is a Man(tm). Legally, twice over. And well... you find a LOT if Neat Late Night Shops running after the bats. He may have been persuaded by CERTAIN libidos that maybe he should check them out. Who can say? You can't prove ANYTHING. These bags are groceries and no you can't check..

Where was he? Ah, right, Pics of the Nightwing booty. *click*

Tim forgets Rule Number 1.5: ALWAYS keep an eye on what the villian is doing.

By the way... what that bright light? Oh, just a SPELL BOLT. Fuckin DODGE, MAN!

He fails to dodge.

🥺 H-His camera... Night-booty... Also why does he feel? Tingly? He doesn't stick around to figure it out. Grabs his TRAGICLY dead camera and bolts. Not getting caught at the scene of the stalking TODAY, no sir! Batmans definitely gonna check the area and he SHANT be there! Early night it is!

He gets back to his apartment. Still feels tingly... but less? Maybe those charms he looked up how to make protected him after all. Still, shouldn't push his luck, you know? He settles in for the night. Gets a warm shower.

Comes out and eyes the bags he dropped by the bed... and... well...

He DID wrap up early~ Maybe treat for Timmy time. He digs them out.

Weird.

They? We're already pretty life like (it's why he bought them) but... when he TOUCHES one? He swears it gets MORE life like? He really should look this up or something... suspect toys in Gotham and all... but on the other hand? Horny. And the boxes WERE closed. It's fiiiiine.

But which one? It's kinda been a while. And he doesn't want to be sore tomorrow. This one!

So Tim lays back. Let's himself enjoy working himself open. Then works the fake(?) Cock inside himself. And oh~ it's WARM. Twitchs. He let's himself enjoy a slow, lazy session. Get really sloppy and relaxed before finally finding juuust the right angle aaaand~

Across the city, the current Robin, Damian Wayne, is shaking APPART on a roof top. Sweat pouring down his temple, thighs trembling as he tries ro stop himself from rutting up into empty air. It won't help. Won't make the damnable TEASING go any faster. Wet and tight and PERFECT around him.

Came out of NOWHERE. One second he was patrolling, the next barely catching himself from falling. Stumbling into an alchove on some god forsaken roof. Hands fumbling to turn off his comms. Absolutely not. They could NOT hear him like this.

Panting into hands pressed tight over his own mouth to stiffle the sound he wants to make. Beg and demand that magnificent heat go FASTER. Plunge him DEEPER. But he CANT. Because there's no one there. Just him and the slowly increasing pressure in his balls, begging for relief.

Then, like prayers answered, it DOES. He could WEEP. Can't stop the aborted jerks of his hips as he chases his relief. Soon is trembling like the virgin he ISNT anymore as he spills into... into SOMEONE.

They take it so well. So perfectly.

He's RUINED. His hand will never be enough after this. And Tim has no idea.

Sure, he's not stupid. He didn't buy toys the fake cum. (So to be safe plan B it is) But? In the cold like of day? Prooooobably magic sex toys. Eh. It's Gotham. Not the weirdest thing to happen. Tim's keeping them.

And using them.

Thus begins the "phantom lover" incident, as Bruce will insist on calling it. Because "we were haunted by random fuckings" sounds... unprofessional. And he's a Dramatic Bitch at heart.

Damian, obviously, told NO ONE. Patrol? Utterly normal. Mind you business. But Bruce? Uncomfortable conversations for EVERYBODY~☆

See, Tim has a long day. His new camera isn't gonna be in for a WEEK. There is no point in going out. So his evening stretchs long and empty before him. Which... SPEAKING of things both long and things empty... >.>

He remembers. There was an absolute UNIT that he bought. It also has that base... which mean he could put it on the sex pillow. Try riding it... oh he's GOTTA, now.

Lucky for Bruce, he's not even in the cave when it hits. Unluckily, it is a cock teasing hell. Nothing to hold. No body to press close. No skin to run his hands across or ears to whisper filthy praise. So TIGHT. Fluttering and fighting to take him. Sinking little by little. Can't even HEAR him praising them. He can't even distract them, rub their clit and sooth them as muscles relax.

Can't hold them by the hips and work them up and down. They way he knows will work best. At angles that will make them SOB. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. Trembling and eager around him but so SLOW. Pausing again and again to adjust. Can't thrust in, can't pull out, only TAKE it. Let himself be teased.

But OH. When they finally, FINALLY get a rythme? He knows they can hear a word he says. Not yet. But the FILTH he growls. The audacity of what they're doing. He's GOING to find them. Going to pin them done and-

Tim spend the next day sore, but happy. Definitely not an "every day" sort of toy, but holy shit the orgasm. He hasn't slept this well in a WHILE. Though... when he wakes up? The Bats are acting weird. Violent, hyper-focused, seemly shaking down leads with a single minded enthusiasm. Weird.

Speaking OFF. Now he's wondering... does the possibly fake cum... TASTE like real cum?

One way to find out.

And... look. Dick may have been warned, but it's one thing to hypothetically get your bits milked dry and another to be doubled over seeing the face of god. He would gladly kill a man for the ability to grab hold of whoever is doing this and ram home. The mouth on him is a thing of wonder and it keeps TEASING the tip. They keep running soft, pampered, little hands up and down his length. God he wants them to feel him in their GUT. Fuck their face and their ass and any OTHER holes they have til everything is sloppy and wet and-

Yep! From the tast flooding Tim's mouth, that's real cum. Good his he got his shot. But it begs the question... whoms't exactly is he fucking? Tim's not sure he's comfortable with random hook ups. What if, Gods forbid, it linked him to the JOKER or something!? He'd have to blow up the city and everyone in it.

He considers this as he resumes his sta- he means, BIRD watching. Newly be-camera-d. Weirdly enough, now Nightwing is acting off too. What is going ON? Also... he could of SWORN he saw the Red Hood a second ago. Did he leave? Aaw D:>

.....what's that sound?

*boss music starts playing* That would be the Red Hood. Owner of the mythical Common Sense gene. HE immediately phoned a friend! And by THAT we mean he beamed up to The Watchtower to get poked at by magic users until he had a scanner.

Beep beep, mother fucker. You have explaining to do.

OR, counter argument.... Tim makes a run for it. Doesn't GET far. But he Sure Did Try! Jason is unamused. Consent is sexy, kids. And he has the gun to explain that. But! TIM has the panic babbling to explain his horny stupidity and innocence.

Fair enough. He's confiscating them though. If you get horny, just fucking ask.

Wait.... really? Does Jason really mean that?

And... two things. Cute Horny Idiot knows his identity. And.... he never said HE wasn't also apparently a horny idiot. Sure, why the fuck not.

He confiscate the magic contraband... then bends that twink in HALF. Comms off, back into it. Tim can barely breathe, pressed down so tightly to the bed as his guts get re-arranged, callused hands holding his legs spread, his childhood hero rumbling FILTH into his ear as hips snap against his, again and again and AGAIN. The world is hot and fuzzy around the edges and... AND-!

Jason's pretty damn smug that HES not only the one who found mystery twink, but them fucked him incoherent. He seriously considers just... not saying anything. Whoops! Nothing to find here folks. To bad the Watchtower is a fuckin snitch.

So obviously Bruce finds out. And wants to "talk to him". Which inevitably ends with Tim, pressed close to his front, held still as he "fucks him properly". Which as far a Tim is concerned is a god damned excuse to EMPALE him on his monster of a cock. Work it deeper and deeper, all while holding him like a lover, as he absolutely DESTROYS Tim's poor puss. Makes him lose count of how many times he's gotten off. Until everything is too bright and hyper sensitive. Til it's nearly hurting but not quite there and all Tim can think about, as he whimpers and drools, is SLEEP.

Oh... and THEN he wants to talk about how Tim knows their secret identies. Ask him in the morning or Tim WILL cry at you.

He wakes up in Wayne Manor. He did not go to sleep in Wayne Manor. He can't move his lower body with out pain. Bruce is clearly pretending he planned that. Liar.

Then? Karma. His horny chickens come home to roost. Has Bruce introduced you to his sons? This is Dick and Damian. They remember you. And would like a "word".

(The word is sex and they would like it as soon as possible)

👀👀👀!!!!!!!!!!!! a reverse magic sex toy!!!!!!!!!!!!! where tim tortures the other bats by fucking his little pussy with their cocks while they're forced to just suffer and endure it until he's finished. more than once they almost scream from frustration because tim finishes before they do and he pulls them out of his warm, slick little hole. 👀👀👀👀

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup

Summery: Y/n thought it would be fun signing up on dating sites, just for shits and giggles. Who knew that was one of the best decisions they made, especially when they're having too much fun talking to a certain Jason Todd.

warning: swearing, unedited I think, mentions of cancer, fluff, lots of back and forth teasing

word count: 3072

a/n: I promised myself I'd post a fic today, though it's not the one I wanted, I hope you enjoy regardless.

ao3

Series master list

Inspired by this:

September 19

You matched with Jason Todd, say hello!

Y/N So, when you say you're looking for a partner in crime Do you mean, like, rob a bank and fight batman? Or like, cozy up on the couch with the fireplace going while it's raining while we try to finish the books we bought? Cuz, I can do the second one I dont think i could fight batman or any of his kids Or even what to, you know? They’re kind of scary …. well maybe one of them i would fight I say fight but its wont be Oh man, I am so sorry about this. This is not how i wanted to tell you that i am a rambler I’m just gonna see myself out Goodday

Jason Ngl this made me laugh So who would you fight but not really?

Y/N You can’t honestly be interested in who I would fight? No way

Jason Way you seemed interesting and i want to get to know you

Y/N … okay but you need to answer my question first

Jason: Lol fair. And it would be the second one. I too wouldn’t fight batman but for different reasons

Y/N: So you're a fighter?

Jason Nope This isn’t how it works

y/n: Fine but remember, you asked for this

Jason: Okay but it’s not like you have a plan on fighting all the batmans kids so i think im safe

y/n: …….

Jason: Oh shit you do?!

y/n: I plead the fifth

Jason: You just got a little more interesting

y/n: I’m going home

Jason: Damn and here i thought i’d finally found the love of my life

y/n: No, nope Don’t say that The more you talk to me, you’ll find the real me and then want nothing to do with me

Jason: Let me be the judge of that We matched for a reason and i want to find out Don’t you?

Y/n: Aren’t you a charmer Okay fine. 20 questions?

Jason: Sure but after you tell what you would do in a fight with the batfam

y/n: I was hoping you would drop this, damn Alright, you get the honour of telling me who you want to know 

Jason: Nightwing

Y/N: Really? Okay. well first i was thinking of just flirting my way out, but he looks like he’d flirt back and i’m not the best at it to begin with, so I’d just get all flustered Bro’s an acrobat, i aint running from him. I aint running from all of them if i’m being honest. Nah for nightwing, he strikes me as a dork in some way. I’ll talk my way out of it. And if there’s something i’m good at, it’s talking.

Jason: So your plan is to talk circles around him?

Y/N: Yes Once i figure out what type of dork he is, imma talk until he gets confused and then i’ll run away Bro won’t see it coming

Jason: I should tell my brother He’s a huge nightwing fan

y/n: Nooooooooooo No one needs to know i don’t need other people to know how weird i am Especially your family I don't want my first meeting to be ‘hey, you’re that chick that’ll talk nightwing to confusion. Man that was a great laugh’

Jason: You think this will go that far?

Y/N: Honestly? No But i have hope You?

Jason: Ya Anyways, red robin?

Y/N: You skipped red hood

Jason: Saving him for last

Y/N: Fair Hes smart, can’t really talk myself out of that one nor would I flirt He is too young and not my type So i use his weakness

Jason: There’s no way you know that

Y/N: No but I know the dude doesn’t have a regular sleep schedule.

Jason: How do you know that?

Y/N: Back when I worked at a coffee shop, I took his order a few times and watched him down his coffee while it was still hot I asked him once, why? Dude said, and i kid you not ‘sleep is for the week and coffee is god’ Ngl, i laughed and gave him a free coffee just for making my day

Jason: Shit day?

Y/N: Ugh you had no idea. I had two tests that day and a term paper due but i couldn’t get it printed in time so that was late Didn’t help i woke up on the couch, and my body didn’t like that

Jason: You in school?

Y/n: Ya, only two years in but i want it to end

Jason: Not a fan?

Y/N: Eh When did we start playing 20 questions?

Jason: Right, we we suppose to play after you finished your hypotheticals

Y/N: Curses Me and my big mouth Who’s next?

Jason: We’re still on RR

Y/N: Blah right I’ll just bride him with coffee and make a run for it

Jason: The fact that that could actually work is scary Are you sure you’re not a villain?

Y/N: Nope just an engineering student who could fight god with enough coffee and no sleep Honestly, RR’s my spirit animal

Jason: Robin

Y/N: Are you nuts? I’d turn myself in and then some ain’t no way i’m coming up with a plan for him He scares me

Jason: Why?

Y/N: I watched him fight a few times The dude has enough skill and rage to fight the justice league if need be I bet he could kill too He looks like it

Jason: Okay you're not wrong But if you had to come up with a plan, what would it be?

Y/N: Cannot believe you’re making me do this Fine Little dude may have a hard exterior, but years of reading and knowing people like him, he has a soft spot and use that against him

Jason: Do you know what that is?

Y/N: … I am going to die If robin finds this, I am dying by either embarrassment or by his hands

Jason: Come on, you gotta tell me I’m at the edge of my seat here

Y/N: Fine, but if i’m going down I’m taking you with me

Jason: But we’ve only just met

Y/N: Maybe so, but I actually like you But i’m starting to doubt

Jason: Aw come on, little bird

Y/N: Damnit I happened to be walking home and watched him sit in an alley playing with cats Must have been a slow night, he was there for hours

Jason: It was the little bird wasn’t it?

Y/N: So who’s next? Spoiler? Batgirl? The signal? Red hood? Oracle? Well, I wouldn’t fight Oracle, I don’t know who they are but I know they would win so I’m going to stay clear of them No, you know what? I can tell you my answer for all three of them I’d bribe them with cookies or something. Idk if they would take it but that’s my plan. Just straight up bribery. Who could resist cookies?

Jason: That’s your answer to everything huh?

Y/n: Yup

Jason: Even with RH?

Y/n: … He’s different

Jason: How so?

Y/N: Mm, okay but your not allowed to judge Or laugh

Jason: Should I be scared?

Y/N: Depends Anyways, i have a crush on him So I would shoot my shot and if i get turned down then at least I tried

Jason: You have a crush on Red Hood? Out of everyone there is, why him?

Y/N: You’re judging! You said you wouldn’t

Jason: I didn’t say shit Now tell me why him?

Y/N: Hell if I know But have you seen him?

Jason: I have but you don’t even see his face

Y/N: That just adds to the mystic that is Red Hood I just know he’s got a good looking face underneath the mask

Jason: You really are something else

Y/N: Sorry I’m a big fan of RH And I guess I like the thought of a mystery So if you want to end this now, I understand

Jason: Who said anything about ending this?

Y/N: Don’t know, a lot of people who seem interested in me kind of leave after they find out Either they don’t want to compete with a crush that I know have zero chance at or they just don’t like red hood and being with a fan isn’t something they want

Jason: They’re stupid I ain’t leaving for that And who knows, maybe you can shoot your shot one day

Y/N: HA That’s not going to happen I freeze up when I’m near someone I like I’d probably stutter and say something embarrassing and run away No thank you

Jason: Thought it out huh

Y/N: You have no idea Anyways, 20 questions?

Jason: I did promise You can ask a couple?

Y/N: Favourite colour?

Jason: Really? After what I did to you, your going to ask something simple

Y/N: Answer the question Jason

Jason: Green

Y/N: Thank you Favourite food?

Jason: What’s with the easy questions? Give me some hard hitting personal ones

Y/N: I will in time Now, answers please

Jason: Chili dogs

Y/N: Those things are gross

Jason: Hey, they are the pinnacle of street food You just have to find the right places

Y/N: Mmkay, if you say so

Jason: Alright, gonna have to take you to one of my favourite places

Y/N: That right?

Jason: Only way to convince you Where do you go to school?

Y/N: Looking forward to it Gotham University, you?

Jason: Not yet, but trying to Kind of hard when you were declared dead for a while

Y/N: Fucking what?! Gonna need that story

Jason: Nope, gotta reach at least level 10 in friendship to unlock it

YN: Damnit

Jason: Sorry little bird

Y/N: You didn’t need to say it so casually tho Who just mentions, ‘yeah i’ve been declared dead but haven’t done anything’ into a conversation And not elaborate on it This is bullshit, sir

Jason: It has happened to people

Y/N: Yeah, but they tell people why You just Dropped a bomb like that and say, not yet Whatever, i’ll drop it

Jason: You sure? Sounds like it’ll bother you until you get the story

Y/N: Yes I’m sure Yes it will bother me But like I said, I like you and I don’t want to be pushy I’m not a pushy person

Jason: Awe does someone have a wittle crush

Y/N: No You got nothing on RH

Jason: Now that just hurts, little bird

Y/N: Don’t you have a question you need to ask?

Jason: Are you flustered? I feel like you’re flustered

Y/N: Amazing weather we’re having Despite the rain and all

Jason: Alright, I’ll stop with the teasing For now Born in Gotham?

Y/N: No I am from Metropolis, moved here for school

Jason: Any other reason?

Y/N: Yeah, Superman kept destroying my apartment building I’ve moved three times and somehow, he always finds the building I’m living in Minute I graduated high school, I moved

Jason: But why Gotham?

Y/N: Gotham intrigues me

Jason: You’re so weird

Y/N: Thank you Since you’re not in school, what do you do?

Jason: Mechanic Didn’t really want my dad’s help so I’m finding my way in life

Y/N: Not a great relationship?

Jason: You can say that So, engineering huh?

Y/N: Yup I love building and taking things apart Have since I was little

Jason: Gonna change the world?

Y/N: Imma try but can’t really do that while working at luthor corp

Jason: Please tell me your joking

Y/N: Ah, not a fan I see Can’t blame you but I am not It was one of the first places I’ve applied to and hear back right away I accepted before getting my other interviews

Jason: jumped the gun a bit 

Y/N: Yeah I did. I wished I didn’t but oh well I’ll find something better if this doesn’t work out

Jason: Why don’t you quit now?

Y/N: I am a broke college student who needs money If I quit now, I’m not sure if I find someone to take me Plus the hours working there are helping my schooling, so it’s kinda late to switch jobs

Jason: Can’t believe I’m saying this but try wanye enterprise I hear they’re good to work for

Y/n: I plan too eventually But at the moment, this is fine The hours I have now works with my school hours

Jason: How’s working there anyways?

Y/N: Not too bad I guess I’m allowed to work on my own projects as long as I work on the assigned ones The people are nice and all but it could be better

Jason: But you don’t like it there?

Y/N: I don’t like Lex Luthor and what he represents I guess

Jason: So you believe that he’s trying to take down superman?

Y/N: I’ve seen one of their fights Nothing to believe

Jason: Must of been some fight

Y/N: Mm So What did you mean, I can’t believe I’m saying this?

Jason: You can’t be weird about it

Y/N: Oh? I am intrigued

Jason: You’re making it weird

Y/N: I am not It’s not like I said you have a crush on Bruce Wayne or something That would have been weird

Jason: Is this how you felt when I teased you?

Y/N: Paybacks a bitch isn’t it?

Jason: I hate you

Y/N: Okay

Jason: I do

Y/N: You’re deflecting

Jason: Oh my god Fine He’s my dad, well adoptive dad

Y/N: Cool

Jason: That’s it? You’re not going to fawn over him being my dad? Ask me questions about what he’s like? Ask if the tabloids are true?

Y/N: Nope Tbh, I don’t care for Bruce Like, I applaud him for what he’s trying to do for Gotham and all But, seeing him on every magazine everywhere I go gets a bit tiring He’s just another dude that people are obsessed with Who cares if he’s rich Besides, I’m talking to you aren’t I? Who cares about Bruce Wayne I wanna know Jason Todd

Jason: You know? I think I may actually be in love 

Y/N: Stooooooop You can’t say things like that

Jason Why? Cuz you get flustered so easily?

Y/N And if I do?

Jason Gotta say it’s my favourite past time

Y/N So, the reason you don’t have a great relationship with Bruce Does it have anything to do with you being dead or something?

Jason Wow WOW I cannot believe you We go from what's your favourites to hard hitting questions huh? I see how it is

Y/N I told you they were coming

Jason I just didn’t think you’d use it as a deflection tactic

Y/N Yeah I want to say sorry But I’m not I’m sure you would use anything to get attention from yourself

Jason Can’t do positive attention

Y/N Eh

Jason I hear you And yes it is part of the reason why me and Bruce are not in good terms

Y/N Mm, I’m sure he’s trying

Jason In his own Bruce way yeah

Y/N Are you?

Jason I like to believe I am Why the interest?

Y/N I don’t know Maybe it’s the fact that my relationship with my dad isn’t the best

Jason You’re dad’s not Bruce Wayne’s too?

Y/N HA Then I would not be talking to you in this fashion

Jason That is true So then what?

Y/N My mom says we are too similar to each other Got the same attitude and all I believe it Growing up, it was all your useless and you’ll amount to nothing Or he’ll ignore me, and I’d prefer that over the degrading Only time he’d show his affection was if he was drunk

Jason Wow Sorry 

Y/N Yeah It’s gotten better since I moved out Now it’s there, and I’m still processing 

Jason Processing what?

Y/N Mm It’s a pretty heavy topic to get into with someone you just met

Jason Can’t be worse than me being dead for months

Y/N Months?! How many?

Jason Oh damn You are a lot easier to talk with then who I normally socialize with

Y/N I shall take that as a complement

Jason As you should And no, I will not be elaborating 

Y/N Alright fair But I will get the story

Jason Mm, I’m sure you will So? Gonna answer my question

Y/N Last year he was diagnosed with cancer Not sure what it is, but it already spread

Jason How long did the doctors give him?

Y/N He didn’t want to know Can’t blame him for 

Jason Sorry about that

Y/N Yeah

Jason You don’t sound to hurt about it

Y/N Like I said, still processing it so I don’t know how to feel With the childhood I had, I don’t know how too But I know when it comes down to it, my emotions will hit me like a truck when the day comes

Jason Well, soak up as much time as you can before you have any regrets

Y/N Trying to He is just making it impossible Whoo boy! That was a lot of emotion for one night I think I’m going to eat some ice cream and binge watch my favourite show

Jason Sounds fun, wish I could join but I promised my brothers with help

Y/N How many do you have?

Jason Do you read anything about the Wayne family?

Y/N Nope What I know about him is what is whispered between my classes and work and even then I don’t listen to them

Jason Really committed on not caring about him, huh Four brothers and three sisters

Y/N Big family

Jason Bruce likes to adopt

Y/N I can tell Anyways, have fun tonight

Jason I’ll try Would you be interested in talking some more?

Y/N I would love to

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

interlude three

Summary: After the sudden deaths of her mother and grandmother, y/n is forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke her heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, she vows to get to the bottom of her former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what she’s expecting.

a/n: I'm alive!!! I don't want to talk about how long it's been since the last chapter because it's a little bit embarrassing. Anyways, I'm back! Hopefully! So here's a brief little Bruce POV to hold you over until the next real chapter, which should hopefully only be a week or two maybe? (Also, I apologize in advance....)

Series Masterlist

word count: 1.2k

Despite everyone who was trying hard to keep her alive, y/n felt utterly alone. 

Bruce's POV

“Bruce, my dear boy, I don’t tell you often enough, but you are…so stubbornly stupid it makes me feel twice my age.” 

Bruce startled and whirled around to face Alfred. The older man was leaning casually along the work station where Bruce’s video equipment was, his cane next to him, legs crossed at the ankles. 

Bruce opened his mouth and then closed it again. 

It was noon now, and he still hadn’t been to bed. He’d been out late staking out Maverick’s again, hoping to catch a lead on Frank Gallo or anyone that could lead him to the man, when Alfred’s call had come. Security breach. Elevator. The panic had almost killed him. Alfred’s next call came in when Bruce was almost home, telling him that everyone was safe. So he had changed direction and left to clean himself up to make an appearance as Bruce instead. 

And still the fear lingered. Someone had been in his home, feet away from y/n, and he had yet to find any proof of how they had done it. 

He wouldn’t–couldn’t–sleep until he was certain she was safe. 

“What did I do this time?” Bruce finally asked. He turned back to the security footage he was pouring over. It terrified him that they could have been so close to y/n. That he could have been too late. That he could have–

He shut the thought down as quickly as it came. No use dwelling on it now. 

“What haven’t you done? You imploded the most important relationship you have–repeatedly, if we’re being honest. You keep secrets from her but toe the line so recklessly it’s going to blow up in your face. You let your emotions get the best of you. And that’s just lately. Shall I go on?” Alfred recrossed his ankles in the other direction. 

Bruce grit his teeth but said nothing. He restarted the security footage from the beginning and paused it frame by frame. A loud clack echoed around the abandoned station each time he smashed the button to go to the next frame. 

“Let’s change tactics then. How long are you going to let her live in fear before you tell her that the Batman is watching over her from inside her home?” 

Bruce’s jaw ached with the force of his clenched teeth. Still, he said nothing. First y/n had yelled at him, now Alfred. He knew his behavior was…abysmal to say the least. But he had more important things to focus on than everyone’s emotions, his own included. 

He had to find Frank Gallo, and take down the rest of the family, once and for all. When that was done, when y/n was safe, he would think about all the ways he had ruined his relationship with her. 

“Are you listening to me, Bruce?” 

“I am trying,” Bruce said with a smack of his fist against the table, “to figure out who the fuck broke into my home and threatened y/n!” His voice echoed loudly around him, setting the bats to fluttering and chittering above them. He restarted the footage once again. 

Alfred made a noise in his throat. “She hasn’t slept at all.” 

Something oily slid down Bruce’s spine. “Neither have I.” It was a deflection and they both knew it. It killed Bruce to know y/n was so scared. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it–other than find those responsible and make them pay. She wouldn’t want his comfort, wouldn’t want him to hover, so he was doing the next best thing and trying to end it. 

Alfred sighed. “All I’m saying is–” 

“I know what you’re saying.” 

“Then why do I have to keep saying it?” 

Bruce went back to ignoring the older man. Let Alfred think what he wanted. Bruce had work to do. Nothing would get better until Frank Gallo and the rest of his family and cronies were gone for good. 

What gives you the right to act like this? she’d asked, all of her anger turned towards Bruce like a roaring inferno. What gave him the right? He had admitted it to her right before that–I give too much of a shit. 

She didn’t know he was still in love with her. That he always had been. 

He’d hurt her so badly she couldn’t see what was right in front of her face–who he was, how he felt, what it was doing to him. If she would just open her eyes, she would know. 

Instead, she had yelled at him. 

He deserved it. He knew he deserved it. But walking in and seeing her hold Officer Martinez’s hand…it made him crazy. He had acted like the worst type of bastard without even thinking. It was pure instinct, the urge to protect her even from a guy like Martinez rising so strongly within him that it was almost as if he had blacked out. Like someone else had taken over his body. 

She rarely ever got mad at him. It had only happened a few times throughout their many years together. It was a sight to behold, her rage, and he had been equal measures impressed and angry both. 

“I don’t have time for this,” Bruce said after long stretch of silence. His voice was raw with exhaustion and emotion. “Either help me figure this out or go back upstairs.” 

He felt rather than saw Alfred bristle. He waited to get berated yet again, but Alfred merely pulled up the footage on another screen and got to work. 

They spent a few minutes in silence, Bruce’s eyes burning from lack of sleep, his thoughts churning. She hasn’t slept. He ached to go upstairs, to tell y/n that she was safe with him, that he would never let anything happen to her. 

But it already had, and all of it had been his fault. 

He knew without a doubt, just as he had known three years ago, that she was safest far away from him. And look what had happened already–the more she’d become entangled with him, with the Batman, the worse things got. She had spent three years in Bludhaven, far away from him, perfectly safe. And the minute she had come home to Gotham, come home to him…it had all gone to shit. Really it had gone to shit before that–when her grandmother had left the tower for the last time. 

Bruce liked to think that was his fault, too, not that he’d ever it admit it out loud. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” Alfred said into the silence. His voice was gentle, almost placating. 

“Mm.” It wasn’t working, then, Bruce thought. He already felt guilty enough. 

“I hate seeing you like this. Both of you.” Alfred sighed again. “I just think that talking about it–all of it–would help you both. It might ease the strain of…everything else going on.”

Bruce couldn’t see how it could help, only how it would make things worse. But he didn’t say that to Alfred, merely nodded and kept working. 

Two nights later, all Bruce could think about was that Alfred had been right. 

He should have told y/n the truth while he had the chance.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings @missing-loki @exactlyelegantwizard @miriamnox @mavenmoon @eclipsedplanet @spencerrxids @giulia2372 @katara-is-a-goddess-changemymind @janezat @incorrectmarvelquotesss @spiritdetectivel @i-have-no-life-charlie @ilovemybabes @curseyouperrytheplatypus @lightsinmycity @yondiii @spideybv28 @fictionalmansl4t