#red son x you

[fanged-fanfics]

BUH HI!

Could I have a Red Son x Reader fic where Red Son is in HUGE denial over having a massive crush on them and only confronts it when it’s making it genuinely impossible to interact with them without wanting to explode or overthinking

☆ Denial Runs Deep — Red Son x GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Red Son had been set to meet up with you, though he was having a hard time maintaining his composure on the way there. Today was the day, he'd decided that firmly. No more hiding or combustion into plumes of flustered smoke and sparks. He'd keep calm, none of that embarrassing nonsense he could never quite put a name to. It's not fear, he knew that much. Why would the great Flame Prince, heir to the Demon Bull King, ever need to feel fear? It was something you did, that he did know. Something you could cause, with your smiles and hand-holding... but what?

He didn't notice you run up due to his deep contemplating, until your arms were suddenly wrapped around him in a tight greeting hug. The royal stumbled back a little, hair igniting in a flare of flames. He held you in return, pulling back to see your face "Be careful! You could've knocked me over!" He griped. You chuckled as you pulled back "Sorry, it's just been so long since I've seen you" you said with a grin "Come on, we've got a whole day planned!"

You linked your arm with his, tugging him off to the direction of where you picked to hang out for the day. Red Son felt himself flush, gritting his teeth at the inexplicable anxiety that came to him when getting pulled with you. His steps moved to keep up with yours, looking at your excited face. What.. was this? What did this mean? Did you know you were doing this? He found his mind racing with a million questions. He barely knew what was happening until you'd taken him into the entrance of the local arcade and guided him to your favorite game.

When the quarters loaded in, Red Son began doing his best to mash the buttons and move the level to your direction. He didn't ever get the point of games like this. They were so simple in such a mundane way. "I could build you a better game than this" he said, while uselessly mashing a combo together. You laughed a little "You'd make it shoot out fire with tons of spikes". "And it would be the best game you'd ever play" Red Son countered "The flames add character! Just gaze at my noble sparks for an example as to why!"

"I'll give you that, they are really pretty" you said. It was delivered so simply, but Red Son felt his hands falter. Your pixle-y little character on the screen got the last hit on his, the screen flashing your name to show you'd won. You pumped your fist, nudging Red Son as you slid to the next game. He watched you go, rubbing where you'd touched his arm. Why could you do that so easily? It wasn't fair. You and your insufferable compliments. But more importantly.. why did it seem to get to him so much? Sleepless nights, lingering glances. What happened... It all seemed to hit him at once. Oh. Oh. Oh, nonono. This couldn't be- it had to be something else. There was no way that he- for you- he couldn't-

When you turned around, and his eyes met yours, that inviting grin made his heart throb and flutter. "You coming, Red? I got it all geared up for you!" You said. Red Son nodded numbly, dragging his feet as he approached your side. His face only heated more when you pulled him closer to your side. He glanced at your face, lit by the screen. Despite it being a full arcade, his attention fell solely on you. If this was true, then... he'd have to think of a way to tell you..

He'd fallen in love.

[mostly-imagines]

I Missed My Funeral

jason todd x reader

aka you learn what happened to jason

warnings: detailed discussion of how jason died, this is not so happy but i can promise you my jason angst will always have comfort

You wonder if your nightmares are accurate.

Your brain is probably just conjuring up every worst case scenario it can fathom, but maybe there’s truth to one of them. You hope not.

It’s something you haven’t been able to keep out of your mind these past few weeks, and everything seems to remind you of it. When you see his guns, when you’re using a knife to cut up dinner, when you see a car crash on the news, or even when you walk past a fucking pharmacy. The thoughts are everywhere, all the time.

Even as you lay in bed, head on his chest, your mind keeps on drifting where you wish it wouldn’t.

You know he died. He never said it out loud, but you’d seen his autopsy scar plenty of times. You’d always refrained from asking questions, he seemed nervous enough the first handful of times he was around you with his shirt off. Enough time has passed that he’s comfortable being shirtless around you, even okay when you touch his chest. The decrease in boundaries has granted you more solace in one another, but it’s also caused your mind to go wild with possibilities. 

Even now, as you lie against his bare chest, you can’t keep your cat-killing thoughts away.

“You’re being quiet,” He comments, not accusatory, just factual. 

You snap out of reverie, “Sorry, I—”

His hand soothes up and down your arm without pause, “Don’t be sorry. What’s going on?”

“I just…” you look down, thinking over your words. “What…what happened to you?” You ask quietly.

He goes still. 

You immediately regret bringing it up, sitting up from his chest to meet his eyes, “I’m sorry, I don’t need to—”

He shakes his head. The slightest response from him shuts you right up. “No, it’s…it’s okay. Probably should’ve said something by now.”

He nudges your head back down to his chest and you oblige, trying to relax your body against him again. It’s a difficult thing to talk yourself into when his isn’t any more relaxed.

“I…you know I used to be Robin?” His voice is low, hesitant.

You nod.

“Well…I made a mistake—a few mistakes. I wasn’t as careful as I should’ve been and I walked into a trap.”

You’re sure he’s placing more blame on himself than he should, though you don’t know enough to fight him on it yet. You wrap your hand around his forearm that drapes across your chest, a silent affirmation that you’re here with nothing but support and reassurance.

His breath stutters, “The, uh…the Joker set me up and…well, he killed me.”

You don’t want to ask how. You don’t want to know how. But you feel like you have to and it’s selfish and you know that but you can’t leave just it at that. 

It’s a barely audible whisper. You’re not even sure Jason could fully hear the word, but he understands the intent anyway.

His next exhale is shaky, “Yeah, um, that’s the rough part.”

Your head twitches. “That’s the rough part?” You breathe out, scared to hear what’s next.

You can’t see from this angle, but Jason’s eyes are welling over, trying desperately not to let tears fall. It takes him a moment to prepare himself to verbalize the next part. 

“He…he be—” he stops himself. “…He hit me with a crowbar. A lot.”

Oh.

You can physically feel your chest sink.

That’s worse than all the horrifying scenarios you’d built up in your head. That’s…he was beaten to death. For trying to help people. 

You don’t want to leave him in the silence for too long, so you ask the only thing you can think to. 

“How old were you?” 

He drops his head to press his mouth against your head, like he’s trying to ground himself. “Fifteen,” He murmurs into your hair.

Oh.  

You flip over so you’re chest to chest with him and hold him tight. “I’m sorry.”

He wasn’t expecting you to say that. The very very few times he’s had anything even remotely relating to this conversation, the revelation is always met by silence. Or worse.

But you’re sorry. No one’s ever said that to him before. About anything, but especially this. What does sorry even mean in this context? You didn’t do anything, are you sorry for asking? Do you…do you feel bad for him?

He swallows hard, “You’re sorry?”

“Yeah,” You say, furrowing your brow. “You’re a good person, Jay. You’re a really good person and…you didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you. Especially that. I hate that you’ve been through so much and I’m sorry.”

He refuses to blink but the tears are threatening to win anyways with nowhere else to go. 

He shakes his head weakly, “It was my own fault.” 

“Jason,” you say seriously. “It was not your fault. You were trying to help someone, weren’t you?”

It takes him a moment to respond to that. “I—yeah. Yes. My mom. My birth mom.” He takes a breath, “He, uh, he was blackmailing her and I tried to help her—I tried. But she gave me up to try and save herself…it didn’t matter in the end.”

While you didn’t know about the history with his birth mom, you’d been sure he’d died helping someone. That’s just who he is—whether he knows it or not.

“There was a bomb and it…” He lets that bit trail off. “I don’t remember the explosion. I think I passed out before it happened.”

He doesn’t remember the explosion. But…

He does remember the other part.

You have to drop your head into his neck so that he doesn’t see the way your eyes well up. 

“Please know you’re a good person. Please,” you plead. “You’re the best person I know.”

“But…” his breath comes out shaky, “No one…no one did anything.” 

The tears fall now, and in spite of the fact that he hasn’t let himself cry in front of anyone since he was ten, he doesn’t feel the usual burning impulse to hide. Not from you.

His voice breaks as he says, “He killed me and he didn’t…”

You sit up straight again and hold his face in your hands, looking him in the eye. “That’s not your fault. Whatever Bruce did or didn’t do, it has nothing to do with you. It’s all about him.”

You gently wipe his tears with your thumb as the weight of his head drops forward, leaving your touch the only thing holding him up.

You know he has…problems with Bruce. You know his death is a sore subject among them for more reasons than the obvious. You also know the Joker still lives and breathes today and there’s some sort of rule or agreement that Jason isn’t allowed out on patrol when he’s loose. 

There’s clear trust issues there, on both sides, but you’ve always had trouble figuring out what exactly Bruce had done to leave Jason so closed off. It pushed him away from his family and caused potentially irreparable scarring to his ability to trust other people. It actually makes a lot of sense that this is what caused the rift between them—you’d been thinking maybe Bruce was the reason Jason died or he couldn’t stop it, but this…this is a different kind of damaging. Fuck, no wonder Jason feels like he doesn’t belong in his family. 

You take a heavy breath, “You’re important. You’re important to me and whatever moral roadblocks Bruce couldn’t get over doesn’t change that—it has nothing to do with how good you are.” 

You’re definitely crying now but at this point it doesn’t matter. It’s more important for him to hear this than for you to pretend like this isn’t as horrible as it is.

He doesn’t look up at you but you can see his own tears dripping off his face. You don’t see him cry very much at all, and definitely not like this.

You sniffle, “Do you wanna switch?”

He nods against your palms and lets you out of his hold to sit up as he shifts lower on the bed and wraps his arms around your torso. You weave one of your hands in his hair and stroke softly. The other rubs soothing patterns on his back, feeling the heaviness of his breath under it.

You kiss the top of his head, “I love you. So much.”

He holds you tighter, murmuring “I love you,” into your chest.

It’s quiet for several minutes after as you both process the words said.

You’re the first to pipe up again, “How did…”

He exhales, “Ah…it’s a little complicated…”

He wants to talk about it another time. That’s fine by you.

Another silent minute passes before, “Bruce isn’t…he’s not a bad…we had a lot of problems after I came back. Both of us. Took a while to get over ‘em.” There’s a beat before, “Still getting over ‘em.” 

You nod, continuing tracing onto his back. His voice is clearer again, stronger.

“Is that why you don’t like being at the batcave?” you ask.

“No,” he murmurs. “It’s ‘cause he keeps the suit on display.”

You look down at him, frowning. “What suit?”

“The robin suit.”

You pause.

“That robin suit?”

He nods.

…what

for clarification bc i think i thought this was canon oh well

🔮🕯️the reblog witch bids you do her bidding 🕯️🔮

[the-b1ah]

Part 8 last one!! of You can’t bench me!

Whoop! Another one bites the dust, you can’t bench me if officially done!

Context:

Phantom kicked all the ass and took all the names. The crew then shuffled back to the cave to get fixed up.

Alfred has patched up Steph and Tim, and has moved on to Jason. Getting helmet shards taken out of your face is not fun 2/10 stars at least it’s not a crowbar.

————————————

Henchmen: time to die Red Hood

Red Hood: k let me ask my son

Henchmen: wha-

Red hood: he said nuh uh

Henchmen: the fuck you mean nuh uh

Phantom with a steel chair: yippee ki yay Mfers

————————————

Masterlist| Origin | part 7 | part 1 | bonus!!

[shortnsweetsposts]

*Tim had to create a website for a mission*

Damian: If I had created a website with this many problems, I'd kill myself.

Tim: Do you have a question, Damian?

Damian: Yeah, I have a lot of questions. Number one, how dare you?

Bat!reader: *starts to clap*

[starry-bi-sky]

my martha knight au in a nutshell:

Danny/Martha: see up here?

Danny/Martha: *taps skull*

Danny/Martha: intense psychological damage

-----------

Danny/Martha: *upon finding out she's pregnant*

Danny/Martha: oh my god i cant be a mom, I'm fifteen and homeless--

Danny/Martha: im going to be a terrible mother--

Danny/Martha: i live in a cAR--

Danny/Martha: what if the baby inherits my powers? Oh no--

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

Danny/Martha post giving birth: i've only had Bruce for a minute and a half but if anything were to happen to him i won't even need to fuse with Vlad, I'm razing this goddamn planet to the ground myself

Danny, to Baby Bruce: you are the last remaining thread of my sanity. I'm going to give you the world :)

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

Danny/Martha prior to getting pregnant: Fuck it, if everything in my life has led to this moment, i'm allowed to make one stupid decision. I'm getting drunk and getting laid

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

Danny/Martha while Bruce was a toddler: i swear to fucking god i am going to kill the next person who talks to me--

Bruce: hi mommy!! i brought you something!!!

Danny/Martha, immediately flipping on a dime: hi baby!! what do you have?

Bruce, a weird child like his mother: a spider :)

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

Danny/Martha, talking to Falcone after he made an unsavory comment at her and Bruce: If you ever come near me or my son again, I will dig up your shithead father's corpse and make you eat his skin.

Danny/Martha: do you understand me

Falcone:... crystal, ma'am

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

Danny/Martha new in Gotham: *getting mugged*

Danny/Martha: *grabs man's arm*

Danny/Martha: I AM GOING TO BREAK YOU IN HALF LIKE A TWIG, FUCK BOY, DO YOU HEAR THE WORDS COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH--

(she then proceeds to terrorize Gotham's night life for the next extended period of time, mostly unintentionally)

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

Danny/Martha: Danny Fenton?? No. you must be mistaken, my name is Martha Knight.

Danny/Martha: this here is my littlest knight, Bruce.

Danny/Martha: I made him all by myself :]

[nosyrobin]

BATBOYS WITH INOSUKE!READER

DICK:

“Rick! Rick! Check me out NEHEEHEH”

“Y/N, I told you my name is Di—” he’s shocked to see you bending your body back. To the point your bender through your legs and your chest is hitting the ground smoothly. Even he can’t do that as he just stands there shock. You’re still stupidly grinning, as you held your ankles with your hands.

“…am I hallucinating”

“No!”

TIM:

“Why do you drink coffee Tammy?”

“Cause I like it and it keeps me up…”

“Can I try some?” You asked holding the coffee as if it was gonna jump at you.

“Sure man knock yourself out.”

And surly you were knocked out and Tim smirks while typing away on his report of a crime.

JASON:

“I shot you in your chest, and you’re telling me that you moved your heart?”

“Yeah yeah! Im amazing aren’t I!” Sparkles emit from you as you stand there smiling with blood seeping from your mouth and chest. Jason only chuckled at how crazy you were as he cocked his gun again.

“I think I just found my favorite practice target.”

DAMIAN:

“Fight me! Fight me! Fighttt me!”

“UGH SHUT UP!” He yelled as he thrown ninja stars at you. You effortlessly dodged them as you chuckled. Damian scofff, grabbing his katana. But you were quicker as you sweep his legs and hold him quickly in a chokehold between your thighs.

“You gotta try harder than that Danny..nhehehe..”

“UGHH MY NAME IS DAMIAN YOU IMBECILE!”

[melloollem]

Trash|| Bruce Wayne × child!reader

Summary: In a city where survival is your main objective, you do whatever it takes, including getting involved in Gotham's criminal world.

Warnings: Common comic book violence, weapons, corruption of minors (minors involved in crimes), reader with no gender specified, comment if you want to be tagged in the continuation.

(Chapter ll, Chapter lll, Chapter lV)

(Dc masterlist)

Prologue

The problem with Gotham was that those who said crime didn't pay would soon start to think it did and those who said it did would find the end too quickly for it to be true. Your problem was that you didn't have time to decide whose side you were on. When the city became a field of war, it was better to have a side, whether it was the side of the innocent or not.

Although you were young, you had seen the city destroy itself and start over many times. At some point, you realized that it wasn't starting over, it was just continuing. Fear gas exploded in the city, chaos spread, a villain was arrested, next month another villain had his own idea for an attack and the city didn't even have a chance to repair the damage from the last attack. It was in one of these circumstances that you lost your family. What did you do without your mother in a city where fear was a constant feeling? Survive and you would follow the law of the weakest.

Petty theft, that's how it always starts, take what you want and run. You weren't the most skilled, but circumstances make the thief and it's not as if you didn't have examples to follow. You lived on the worst side of town, used to seeing robberies almost daily, it was easy, just see where they went wrong and do better. You noticed that most of the thugs who committed robberies in Crime Alley were caught, ironic isn't it? You had also calculated a gap in time when there was no vigilante on duty, it was a few minutes before they spread across the city, the police patrols in Gotham were constant, but they weren't looking for you if you committed petty crimes, there were bigger problems for the city.

In a few months, you had your own map of Gotham, with the information that really mattered: areas prone to robbery, areas that should be avoided, small crooks, big crooks, who ran what, what crime could be committed in each area, which crime was worth the most. If circumstances made the thief, you were in the circumstance most likely to make him successful. And if it had all started with petty theft, soon your preparation would prove that you were capable of more, and it didn't take long for the bandits in the area to notice your potential, now you work as a bandit's henchman, it's not as if you were a big deal, they just considered you skillful enough. You could be useful to them, but if you died in a few weeks' time there would be another one like you, this town was shit.

And if with small robberies, you were out of focus, when a major city bank is robbed with all the vigilantes busy trying to stop it, now everyone knew there was something fishy and you knew it wouldn't be long before the vigilantes were on your tail. You could escape the Gotham police, but Batman? It wasn't about being found, it was about when you would be found. Your first thought was to run away, but did anyone care if you got killed for going against the law? They were clear, you stayed until the end, it was kill or be killed.

Bruce followed your every move, if your plan consisted of staying off the vigilantes' radar, once they saw you, it wasn't hard to find the rest, every crime was in evidence. At first, he thought you were like young Jason, a kid from Gotham who was doing everything he could to survive, but without hurting anyone, and well, you were trying to survive, but if someone had to die in the process, it wouldn't be you.

He thought about approaching you at first, but you didn't look like you were going to give in, you were one of those who were always ready to attack, too scared to look into the dark before firing. If he wanted to approach you, it would have to be slowly, he didn't want you to run away or react. You might have been the one holding a gun, but you were also a child who shuddered at the sound of his shot.

But Batman's plans for you would have to hurry up. In one of the robberies you had planned and were on the front line for, you had been shot in the stomach, and it was now that you would discover that crime doesn't pay. Something peculiar about this situation was that there were no police, it was a vigilante's bullet that had pierced you. Now the Red Hood was carrying your weak body to a Gotham emergency ward, how could he have guessed that the person who shot him was just a child? The second he heard a child scream in reaction to the bullet, he ran for your life.

You looked exactly like a street kid, did you have parents? He didn't have time to find out, he wasn't sure if someone would come and stay with you in hospital, so he did. For the next few hours guilt consumed Jason, how could he shoot a child? He was in the waiting room, now in civilian clothes, waiting to hear from you. He hadn't called anyone, but after signs of a disastrous mission in a Gotham warehouse, Jason had a target on his back, so Bruce obviously wanted to know where he was.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

This is the prologue to a story that will soon be released. I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned to my profile. Every new episode released will be linked in this post, comment if you want to be tagged.

[monkie-man]

Hey MK you big spoon or little spoon with Red?

Big!! Big spoon all the way!! Red likes being held 😊😊!!

[waterlily626]

He is a little shy ヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉ

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6aK9Tfx/

[ailithnight]

Aheem... prompt from @regonold

16 Hours

Danny remembers the first time something shorted out his powers. Vlad with his stupid Plasmius Maximus thing. Well, 'remembers'. Mostly he remembers the aftermath.

Apparently Vlad hadn't known at the time exactly how Danny ended up half ghost. He thought it had been a slower progression like his own development. It hadn't occurred to him that Danny's original death had been much quicker.

Danny remembers a short, light shock. Really, the spector deflector was worse. But this shock... suddenly his muscles were seizing, his heart stuttering, his Lichtenbergs burning. And then, nothing. A blank space in Danny's head that apparently spanned 3 hours.

Next thing he knows, they're in some kind of vehicle. There are sirens outside (a police escort, Danny would later learn). His mom is driving like her life depends on it. And Vlad is giving him chest compressions, looking grieved and panic striken. He's crying. They both are.

"Please tell me you didn't have to kiss me." His voice comes out pained and raspy. Mom almost crashes the vehicle.

"No, Little Badger. Thankfully, you kept breathing. Just your heart that was struggling." Vlad chuckled, guilty yet relieved.

It was another hour before they made it to the nearest hospital from the stupid hunting cabin. 6 more for all the stupid medical tests. "An accident," Vlad told them. "Small shock, but with an already weak heart..."

Any other time, Danny might have argued. Tried to make Vlad admit more guilt. But the whole ordeal had exhausted him to much to care then.

The second time was marginally better. At least with the Fenton Crammer, it was a steady loss. And Danny managed to fix it before his healing factor fully failed. It still hadn't been pleasant, fighting Skulker and dealing with Dash while phantom echoes of his death arced across his body. But he'd managed.

This. This is so much worse. Danny thought it would be like the Crammer again. A steady decline. But it isn't.

And it isn't like the Maximus either, a one then done, pain then nothing, dying then dead, moment.

No. This is more like the blood blossoms. This is torture. This is hell.

The suppression cuffs let just enough of his power bleed through, just enough healing factor, to keep him alive. Alive and in agony for... hours? Days? Weeks? Minutes? Danny couldn't really tell. His thoughts had long since turned to nothing but static and pain. All he knew was that time was passing around him while he was here, suffering on the absolute brink of death yet unable to embrace it.

Oh god he wanted to die. Please just let him die already! It's too much. A death that should only last a few seconds drug out into an eternity. His muscles ached with the strain of being locked up. His insides were broiling from the electric heat. His heart stuttered and stopped and started and stuttered. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts!

He might have been screaming. He might have been Wailing. Or he might he been choking on weak uneven breaths. Danny didn't know. Didn't care to know. Didn't care if he ever found out the details of his time in chains. He just wanted, no needed, it to end. But it just dragged on and on and on. And Danny was lost in it.

Too far gone to even realize when it ended.

.

Batman hadn't been there when the new meta appeared, quite literally materializing from nowhere in the conference room mid-meeting. He had been dealing with a mass Arkham breakout at the time. So he wasn't there. An unfortunate fact which will haunt him for the rest of his life and possibly beyond.

He should have been there. If he had only been there...

He didn't blame his team mates. They didn't know. Who would have guessed that simple power suppression cuffs could ever be an instrument of torture. He'd never considered it possible.

He didn't blame his team mates. How could he blame them? Batman wasn't even the one to connect the dots. Red Robin figured it out. He always was good at stringing together thoughts know one else would think to connect.

Red Robin asked the right questions. He figured out in 5 minutes what the rest of the league and the best doctors -not technically- on earth had been agonizing over for 16 hours.

16 hours too long.

He should have been here. Should have come sooner.

"Don't know, B!" Flash had met him at the Zetas, already rambling at top speed before he could reorient himself after teleportation. Everyone else had gone home, unable to help and needing to tend to their own cities and responsibilities.

"He just- He appeared out of nowhere while we were in meeting. Didn't trip any alarms or nothing. Just popped up. We figured it had to be teleportation, but he'd have to know where the Watchtower was to do that.

So we figured, you know, random kid teleporting into the Watchtower during a Justice League meeting. Not good. Big threat. Bats would tell us to detain. So we did.

But before we could get him to a holding cell, there was this flash of light and he changed or something. He had white hair and green eyes and some sort of jumpsuit on when he appeared.

But after the light he had black hair and a t-shirt and jeans and I actually didn't see his eyes cause he just collapsed on the spot.

Started convulsing or seizing or something. And screaming. God, B, the screaming... So we took him to medbay and...

He's dying B. He has to be. He's got a fever that keeps spiking and dropping, his muscles keep spasming, and his heart keeps giving out...

He looks 14. He looks like..."

Flash had trailed off there, as they reached medbay. Bruce understood his reluctance to complete that sentence as soon as he saw the boy.

He looks like a Robin.

Like all 4 of his sons combined.

Like someone mixed Dick's and Jason's faces and put it on Tim's body at Damian's age.

It can't even be a trick. The suppression cuffs are nullifying his abilities. This is what he truly looks like.

His sons.

In pain.

In agony for 16 hours because Batman prioritized Gotham over an emergency on the Watchtower.

"When exactly did you say he collapsed."

"When we were moving him to a holding cell after we caught him. He was a trick to catch too. He-"

Red Robin cut him off. "Yeah, sure. But when exactly did this start. What happened immediately before?"

Flash was less then pleased about being interrupted, but acquiesced after a look from Batman. Tim had an idea. Tim was on to something. "Like I said, just after we caught him and got the cuffs on so he'd stop slipping away again."

Bruce couldn't keep the growl out of his voice one he realized what Tim was suggesting. Of course he knows it wasn't their fault. He's told all of them as much since. But in the moment...

"Take them off!"

"What?"

"It's the cuffs! Take the damn cuffs off! They're killing him!"

Flash wasted no more time, bolting out of the room to fetch the disabler. Tim didn't bother waiting for the fastest man alive. He had the cuffs disabled before Flash would have been able to swipe his access card into the detainment center storage room. Bruce practically threw the cuffs out of the room in his haste to get them away.

The change had been... not nearly as quick as Bruce would have liked. The heartrate settled out almost instantly, although into something a bit too slow for comfort. But it was steady and Bruce knew nothing about this kid's normal physiology so he counted it a win.

The screaming, of course, had long since choked off. According to Flash's report, his vocal cords failed after about an hour. But his facial expressions still indicated consciousness, though not awareness.

The muscles stopped spasming and unlocked slowly over the course of several minutes. Flash was back by then, looking a bit put out to have lost a race against Red Robin. Batman could not give a single flying fuck about Flash's ego right then.

Shortly after his muscles unlocking was when he finally passed out. Once more, Batman thought about 16 hours. 16 hours and he hadn't even been able to slip into unconsciousness for relief. He should have been here.

The fever was the slowest to break. In that it still hadn't broken almost 2 hours later. Batman had sent Tim and Flash home after Red Robin finished squeezing all the details he could out of Barry. Tim had given him a look before leaving, some mixture of worry and mischief. "Should I tell Agent A to prepare a room?" Bruce just rolled his eyes and shooed him off. Hopefully to bed. Knowing his son, probably not. Tim was most likely still up doing research. Bruce wanted to call Alfred to wrangle Tim to sleep.

But calling Alfred would mean leaving the room so the still potentially a threat meta couldn't hear if he woke up. And Bruce couldn't leave him. Not until the fever broke. Not until he woke up. Not until he knew the boy that looked like his sons would be okay.

Not until he could apologize for being late.

16 hours.

16 hours too late.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Son Hak saving you from a group of men

Pairing: Hak x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: While gathering herbs, you get surrouned by bandits - until a mysterious, cocky stranger swoops in to save the day. But you’re no damsel in distress, and you’re ready to show him exactly what you’re capable of.

Warnings: tensioooon y'all, Hak is so damn inviting I just had to write this

I know a lot of my followers are here for jjk, kny and maybe aot, but I enjoyed my fruits basket fanfic soo much that I just had to write for Hak hehe

Even if you're not a fan, I'd love you forever for a little like <3

The forest is quiet as you weave through the dense underbrush, your hands skilfully plucking at the delicate leaves of a healing herb nestled in the shade. The sun filters through the green above, and for a moment, you take in the peace of nature, away from the bustling energy of the village. It's not every day you get the chance to help restock the supplies of your mother’s pharmacy, even though you’re always more than happy to help.

After all, collecting herbs means at least a few minutes of peace, a few minutes away from your mother’s desperate attempts to match you up with a random man. You know she only wants your best. After all, your father is the love of her life. It’s only natural for mothers to wish for that happy ending for their daughters, right?

You can’t help but grimace. Marrying a jerk from your village isn’t exactly your vision of a happy ending, though. If it was for you, you’d be happy enough by becoming a pharmacist just like your mother while getting to train with your father from time to time.

A pharmacist…That bouquet of moonshade bloom looks exceptionally good today. Its healing properties will be of great help for your father when he finally returns home-

Your focus on the herbs is abruptly shattered when the sound of rustling leaves catches your attention. Did someone follow you? Your mother, by any chance? No, you are the only one who knows about that secret place, the only villager who comes here. But who…?

You glance up, fingers tightening around the handle of the small blade strapped to your waist. Your father told you over and over that a knife can be a dangerous weapon in the right hands, that you should never use its powers carelessly.

A group of rough-looking men steps into view, their eyes narrowing as they spot you. Your heart drops to the floor, fierce eyes following each and every step. This can’t be good. This definitely means trouble.

“Well, well,” one of them drawls, smirking as his gaze sweeps over you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”

You straighten, willing yourself to appear unfazed.

“Just minding my business,” you reply evenly, your hand inching closer to the hilt of your sword.

“And I advice you to do so as well.”

But they don’t seem inclined to leave it at that. No, instead, one steps even closer, his grin widening in a horrendous way.

“We’ll take real good care of you. No need to be shy.”

Your heart pounds as they close in, and though you’re confident in your skills, you know you’re outnumbered. That won’t stop you from giving it your all. Little do they know you aren’t a shy and weak girl from a nearby village. No, you are the daughter of a captain who serves under the crown itself. He never cared about the fact that you are a girl, always trained you like a son. Exactly for moments like these.

Just as your fingers wrap around your blade, a blur of movement descends from the trees.

“Now, now,” a unfamiliar, teasing voice cuts through the tension.

“Is this the part where I ask if I’m interrupting something?”

The men freeze, startled by the sudden interruption. Your head snaps up toward the source of the low and somehow taunting voice, your grip on your blade tightening. A tall figure emerges from the shadows of the trees, moving with the grace of someone who has seen far too many battles.

He’s tall, there’s no doubt in the fact that he’s quite muscular underneath the dark cloak he’s wearing. His strikingly blue eyes flick to you briefly, his smirk cocky and self-assured, before settling on the men again.

Who on earth is he?

“Interrupting? Not at all,” one of the bandits sneers, regaining his composure.

“But this isn’t your business, stranger. Why don’t you move along?”

The man chuckles, an easy, confident sound that only serves to irritate the bandits further.

“Oh, but you see, I just can’t help myself when it comes to damsels in distress. It’s a weakness of mine.”

“Damsel in distress?”, you hiss through gritted teeth

You bristle, ready to argue that you’re no damsel, but the situation is too tense to waste time on resentment. Besides, the stranger’s interruption has bought you a moment to steady yourself, and you intend to use it.

The bandit leader narrows his eyes.

“You’ve got a death wish, pal.”

“Maybe,” the man replies casually, lifting his glaive off his shoulder and twirling it with practiced ease.

“But I’ll still take my chances over yours.”

Without warning, one of the bandits lunges at him, a blade drawn. You barely have time to process what happens next - a flash of steel, and the man goes flying backward, clutching his chest and groaning in pain while you didn’t even manage to pull out your knife in the meantime.

The stranger doesn’t stop there. He moves like lightning, his glaive cutting through the air in wide, precise arcs that force the other bandits to scatter.

And you? You just watch him like a fool with your mouth open.

“You lot really are a disappointment,” he comments with a mocking sigh.

“Is this what passes for banditry these days?”

One by one, the men fall like rice sacks. Some manage to run, tripping over their own feet in their haste to escape, while others are left sprawled on the ground, groaning in defeat. It’s over in a matter of moments, leaving only you and the stranger standing amidst the chaos.

You are loss at words. Did this…really just happen?

He plants his glaive in the dirt and turns to you, his smirk softening into something almost friendly.

“You alright, Miss?”

Miss…You lower your blade but don’t sheath it just yet. Your eyes narrow as you study him, unsure whether to thank him or demand his intentions. What did he do here anyway?

He doesn’t seem fazed by your caution at all, though. In fact, his grin only widens.

“You’ve got the look of someone who’s about to say, ‘I had it under control,’” he mocks, leaning casually on his weapon.

“I did,” you reply sharply, finally slipping your blade into its sheath.

He chuckles again, the sound low and annoyingly charming.

“Of course you did. I’m sure you would’ve handled it beautifully.”

He tilts his head, a curious glint in his eyes.

“Still, it doesn’t hurt to have a little backup, right?”

“And what do you want for this ‘backup’?” you ask, crossing your arms.

He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Whoa, easy there. I don’t charge for being a hero. Consider this a freebie.”

You’re unconvinced, but he doesn’t seem malicious. If anything, he looks mildly amused by your wariness.

“You’re not from around here,” you remark, more a statement than a question.

“Caught that, did you?” he replies, clearly entertained.

“You’re right. Just passing through. But I’d hate to think what would’ve happened if I hadn’t.”

His gaze shifts to the bouquet of herbs you’d dropped during the commotion.

“A pharmacist, huh? Or is it an herbalist?”

“Both,” you answer tersely, bending to retrieve the herbs.

You keep one eye on him as you do, unwilling to let your guard down entirely. You hate to admit how mesmerising his fierce eyes look, how inviting those strong arms are.

Inviting…Are you out of your mind?

“Impressive,” he notes, leaning on his glaive again.

“And the blade? That’s not just for show, I take it?”

“My father taught me,” you reply, straightening with the herbs in hand.

“And I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

“I don’t doubt it. But if I hadn’t stepped in, you might’ve been forced to prove it a little too much.”

You bite back a reply, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of rising to his bait.

Hak leans casually on his glaive, his smirk as infuriating as ever. He won’t give up, won’t he?

“You’ve got a lot of fire, Miss Pharmacist. How about actually proving it?”

Your brows furrow.

“Prove it? I don’t have anything to prove to you.”

“Oh, I think you do,” he teases, straightening up.

“Come on, impress me. You’ve got a blade, and from the way you carry yourself, I’d say you know how to use it. Or was that all talk?”

Your jaw tightens. He’s provoking you and you know it, but you’re not about to back down. Not when you’re challenged like that.

“Fine. You asked for it.”

Drawing your knife, you take a step back to create space, your movements fluid and precise. Hak raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you ready your stance.

“Anytime you’re ready,” he announces, spinning his glaive once with a flourish.

You charge forward, swinging low before feinting to the side. He blocks effortlessly, his movements annoyingly smooth. But you’re not done. You hinge, using the momentum to aim a strike at his side. He parries, his smirk widening.

“Not bad,” he admits.

“But you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Gritting your teeth, you change tactics, using a feigned stumble to lure him into an overcommitment. As he steps forward, you twist, sweeping his legs out from under him with a sharp kick. His surprised grunt is deeply satisfying as he crashes to the ground.

You’re about to step back and declare victory when his hand snaps out, grabbing your wrist.

“Not so fast,” he mumbles, yanking you down with him.

The next thing you know, you’re sprawled on the forest floor, half on top of him, his laughter ringing in your ears, his firm muscles rough against your palms.

“You’re full of surprises,” he soothes, his grin entirely too smug despite his current position. “Guess I deserved that.”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before underestimating me,” you huff, trying to push yourself up.

Gosh, the feeling of his body against yours almost makes your face flush. You were never this close to a man before, especially not a man like him. He definitely knows how to fight, how to use his body oh so smoothly.

“Next time?”

His grin softens, and there’s a flicker of something warmer in his gaze.

“I’ll look forward to it.”

You roll your eyes, brushing yourself off as you stand with that faint voice in your heart screaming in agony. He rises with ease, dusting off his cloak as though he wasn’t just knocked flat on his back.

“Alright, you win. I’ll admit you’re not half bad. But don’t think this makes us even. I still saved you, remember?”

You let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he counters smoothly, falling into step beside you.

The banter carries you both out of the forest, and for all his teasing, you can’t deny the warmth his presence brings. For a stranger, he feels oddly… safe. Annoying, but safe.

But you can’t continue like this. If you stay by his side a little longer, you might really for his charm.

“I guess I keep going now. Have a nice journey to wherever you go next”, you finally announce while turning your step into the direction of your home.

“Hey,” he calls after you.

“Not even a ‘thank you’? Tough crowd.”

You glance over your shoulder.

“Thanks,” you bite back, though it comes out more envying than you’d intended.

He laughs, the sound warm and genuine this time.

“You’re welcome, Miss Pharmacist. If you ever need saving again, just yell. I’ll come running.”

You scoff, but can’t quite suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. Whoever this stranger is, you suspect this isn’t the last you’ll see of him.

[gh0st-t0wn3]

This is one of the dumbest things I've ever made, but I heard the audio and had to do it

[malikselfindulgence]

TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO X READER STUDY DATE HEADCANONS [seperate + all together!]

Content: reader is gender neutral, could be interpreted as either romantic or platonic

Headcanons under the cut!

RED SON:

☆ tries his best to keep you actually focused on the task at hand- doesn't let you goof off, but will allow consistent breaks

☆ but alas, once you've asked him a single question he'll derail the conversation twenty times over until he's completely off-topic and explaining something not even in your curriculum

☆ not that you mind- it's nice seeing him get passionate over topics he's into

☆ he tends to get absorbed into whatever he's working on, so study dates are a good way to get him to eat and drink water regularly alongside you

☆ I headcanon him as autistic, so parallel play is one of his favorite things! Enjoys being in your company while you each do your own seperate thing

☆ gets very easily frustrated if you're studying something not in his field of expertise [think molecular biology, literature, world geography] and you ask for his help only for him to not understand the question

☆ now it's your turn to try and keep him focused instead of going on a long-winded rant about how he's very smart and knowledgeable and this book is actually stupid and also he's-

MEI:

☆ you get a surprising amount of work done when you're with her!

☆ Mei's pretty good at balancing work and fun- she knows when to leave you be so you can focus on your studies, and when to strike up a conversation so you don't get too bored or stressed out

☆ she has a study date playlist specifically for the both of you that she updates frequently- she tries to keep her rock/metal songs out of it so it doesn't startle you and break your attention

☆ she's very horrible at explaining things- you ask her to help you with a question and although she understands the concept, she uses such convoluted metaphors and analogies that leave you more confused than before

☆ she likes holding your hand or sitting in your lap while you both work- just touching you in some way

☆ comes up with funny abbreviations for things you have to memorise

☆ gives you little pecks/kisses every once in a while, and near the end of your date when you're both burnt out, she'll give you a sleepy cuddle session while flipping through your flash cards

MK:

☆ oh boy

☆ where do I even start

☆ half of it is spent trying to wrangle MK into his desk, and the other half is spent trying to get him to open his books

☆ has a surprising amount of niche hyper-specific knowledge about various subjects, but if you ask him about the basics his mind'll blank

☆ tries his best to make the environment as comfortable for you as possible- utensils all set, cushions for your back, snacks and drinks on the table, reminders to stretch so your back doesn't hurt

☆ playing loud music tends to help him settle down and get some work done- you have to be holding his hand so he doesn't fidget around, though

☆ doodles on your notebooks/sticky-notes, usually small sketches of you or of himself giving you a thumbs up, flowers, hearts, little messages about how you're doing super well and you're super smart. It's really endearing and helps keep your morale up

☆ his attention span is very very low [I headcanon him as having ADHD], so he has to take multiple breaks in between. If you're still working while his mind is un-focused he'll braid your hair to keep his hands busy

RED SON + MEI + MK:

☆ yeah, you're not getting anything done today

☆ Mei and Mk together are a force to be reckoned with- and Red Son only adds fuel to the fire

☆ Mei and Mk'll make stupid jokes, Red Son'll tell them to shut up so he can focus, they'll make fun of him, he'll reply with a defensive and louder insult, and the cycle repeats

☆ if you ask a question, everyone'll be fighting to try and take a look at your book and help

☆ cue ensuing argument that lasts well into 20 minutes because all of them have a different answer

☆ upon googling it, you tell them that they're all wrong, actually

☆ even though you end up not doing anything, it's still a lot of fun- they're moreso just normal hangouts with the false advertisement of being productive

☆ the only time you get any work done with them is if it's the night before finals and you have to cram- the stress radiating off of you keeps their mouths shut

[Reminder that requests are open!]

[fanfiction4sooya]

Hi can I request Wendy coming home from a stressful day of dance practice and reader decides to help her relax by giving her a massage and she(Wendy) genuinely thought it was just going to be an innocent favor but during it reader starts teasing around her hips and thighs until she finally starts to massage her cock and ends up jerking her off until she finishes the while she’s moaning and whimpering throughout the whole thing…thank you!

Hi hun!! Since i had another request quite like this one i decided to combine both so... buckle up!! And thank you for the request btw! 💖💖

Req: May I please request teasing g!p Wendy by riding her abs instead of her cock while she’s begging and pleading for you to ride it instead? Thanks😊 (thanks for this request too honey bun 💖)

Hope y'all like it!!

cw: g!p Wendy, ab riding, cock sucking, jerking off, cum eating, creampie, sloppy kisses, nipple play, overstimulation, cockwarming, reader is a little shit, Wendy is a bit dumb, not really proofread, etc.

You were in the kitchen making dinner for you two when she arrived shutting the door behind her, a big relieved sigh coming from her lips when her body finally met yours in a hug from behind.

"Hi sweetheart" You caressed her hand, more precisely her wedding ring, turning around on her embrace.

"Hi, my wife" Her voice sounded tired.

"Busy day?" You caressed her face, kissing her cheek and then her lips as she hummed. "How about a massage?" She smiled, nodding. "Okay, take a shower and lay in bed, I'll just finish this up alright?"

"You are the best" She pecked your lips, her tired eyes doing something to you. Off she went and you took a deep breath.

Here was the thing: whenever she was tired it was the moment you wanted her the most. yes, you wanted her all the time, but the fact that, even tired, after hours and hours of relentless practice, she still found the strength to fuck you? That was the biggest ego boost you could ever receive. You didn't think she ever realized how you were the one provoking her into fucking in that state but that was even more arousing. You liked even more to break her, make her plead and beg for you.

That was the perfect game.

You quickly finished the meals and went to your bedroom to find her half asleep on the bed laying on her stomach and only on her briefs, her sleepy eyes small and kind of glossy. You smiled, pulling your dress over your head and staying in your bra and panties, to not stain the dress with massage oil (an excuse you often used and that she fell for every. single. time).

"Sweetie?"You caressed her head and she opened her eyes, half smiling. Sweet jesus. "I am going to start, okay?"

"Please do" She said, her perfect smile present.

Oh lord, her muscular back was something out of this world. You bit your lip and sat on the lower half of her body, applying lavender oil on your hands and quickly starting the massage. She let out a low breathy sound and you could swear your panties got wet, holding yourself really bad so you wouldn't start humping her.

After a few minutes working on her back and going crazy in the process you asked her to turn around, smiling back at her relaxed self.

"Let's take these off okay?" You pulled her underwear down, her still soft cock plopping to the side.

Sitting on her knees you started massaging her hard abs, slowly pushing the muscles up then down until reaching her lower abdomen. Every once in a while you would "accidentally" brush her tip, subtly observing her gulp.

"Oh sweetie, you are all tense here" You massaged her hips, making sure you lowered your upper body enough for her to see your boobs inside your bra. She bawled her fists.

"Yeah u-uhm..." She looked into your eyes and quickly looked away, blushing. Cute. "Irene was impossible today, she made us practice about forty times the same thing" Her voice sounded strained.

"Poor thing" You clicked your tongue, massaging her thighs next. Her cock started to grow erect and you smiled, pretending you weren't seeing that at all. "You must be sore..." Your hands went back to her abs and you could swear she glitched. "Oh, what a mind of mine..." You clicked your tongue again, lifting your weight from her knees to sit on her abs, sliding your hands back to her shoulders. "I forgot to massage here, honey"

"Oh, this feels good" She closed her eyes, her hands quickly finding the way to your hips. Her abs tensed under you you couldn't hold the urge to grind down, an electrifying shiver running through your whole body.

Your body was on fire and you could feel she was holding back the urge to simply fuck you. Her Canadian politeness showing at that very moment.

"Are you okay, honey?" You felt her tense even harder, her eyes dark as her pretty lips opened and closed trying to say something, anything that could make you 'realize' how painful hard she was.

"Can you please ride me?" It sounded soft and low. Finally.

"What was that?" You lowered your ear next to her lips and she inhaled your scent in the most needy, obscene display of desire.

"Ride me, please" She pleaded, trying to kiss your neck but you leaned back, both hands on her chest. Smiling, you rolled your hips on her abs throwing your head back.

"I am riding you" You heard her unsatisfied groan, her eyes getting watery by the time your hips rolled against her. She gulped, closing her eyes.

"My cock baby, please" She held your hips trying to pull you into her needy and furiously red cock. You kissed her, smiling against her lips to moan into them.

"So impatient" You bit her lip and she hissed, shaking under you.

You lowered your lips to her collarbone, then her nipples and she held your head in place. She loved getting her perky tits sucked.

"God, I'm going insane" she let out the sluttiest, breathiest moan you've ever seen her do it and you nearly came.

You kept kissing down, trapping her cock between her thighs and your torso while kissing and adoring her hard abs. Her cock felt hot and heavy, pulsing against your body as she dirty talked, trying really hard to get you to ride her.

You kissed her hips on each side, eyes on her expression. Oh you loved doing that to her, breaking her to the point of tears. Kissing the tip of her cock she mewled and you smiled, tasting precum.

"Are you sure you want me, sweetheart?" You caressed and kissed her thighs.

"Yes, yes, please yes!" You let out a satisfied moan, finally touching her.

Your slowly jerked her off, your hand barely gripping her girth. She tossed her head back, mouth slack trying not to close her eyes as she saw you envelope the tip with your pretty lips while she shook.

"You look so pretty doing t-that - Fuck" She praised you, your own pussy sticky in need but you needed more.

The wet sounds of your mouth on her cock were driving her so insane she couldn't even speak to ask you to ride her anymore, her hips finally taking off for you to gag on her big length, her cock hitting the back of your throat as you massaged her heavy balls.

"I'm gonna cum please baby, let me cum in your mouth" She closed her eyes, holding your head in place as she spilled her seed in the back of your throat, your arms hugging her thighs open. Wendy was violently shaking, tears almost spilling from her eyes.

When she finally released your head you coughed a few times but you weren't satisfied. You needed more.

Getting up from her thigh you pulled your panties to the side, sinking on her fat almost limp cock and you heard her desperate cry, her eyes shot open as she realized what you were doing.

"no baby, oh god" she cried out and you pinned both of her hands above her head, furiously riding her semi hard cock. "T-too much"

"shh, sweetie" you managed to say, shaking a bit. "You asked me to ride you, k-keep quiet so I can do it" you lowly said, kissing her neck.

She cried out but you kept fucking yourself on her, your needy cunt fully enveloping her cock, dragging your clit on her lower abdomen, your tongue messily dancing against hers now. Your moans mixed with hers when you felt her cock growing hard again, this time inside you.

"fuck baby, see?" You stared into her eyes as you kept sinking over and over on her, full force now, almost growling. "I knew you could do it sweetie"

This time you cried out, she held your hips up, taking off. Her cock sliding inside you with ease as her balls slapped your ass.

"Come for me baby" she sounded more demanding and you finally came on her overstimulated cock, fully sinking down and locking your hips on hers.

You kept your eyes closed, coming down from your high and she did too, hissing because it was really too much.

After a while you spoke.

"relaxed, sweetheart?" No answer. You looked up to see her deep asleep, her angelic features so pretty that if it wasn't for her cock still inside you, you'd swear she was some innocent woman.

You kissed her jaw, laying on her chest and closing your eyes.

[dragzo]

My season 5 prediction is that Red Son becomes the (unwilling) tech guru of the team and winds up in stupid situations such as these (I am manifesting Red Son screen time)

[ne-cocoa]

Hi! Not a question, but I've been following your content for a while now and I just wanted to tell you that I absolutely adore every post you make :D ✨

Your art style is so cute and the comics you make are so wholesome! Please keep making content so I can like every post you make <3

AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I appreciate that a lot there’s nothing more that I love than making wholesome content, Monkie kid has such a special place in my heart 🥺 take this unfinished spicynoodle doodle as a thank you!!! 🥰💕💕💕