#romantic! jason todd x reader

[dc-x-reader-stuff]

HusbandJason Todd x Reader head cannons please !!!

Husband! Jason Todd Hc’s

Jason Todd x Gn!Reader

My first time writing Jason stuff, AaAa - I hope it’s accurate to a good point. Like I said before I’m partial to Wayne Family Adventures Jason and a mix between him and the other versions of Jason’s I’ve seen on this app so I hope it’s acceptable- TvT

I’ve seen a lot of people be a stickler about the accuracy of Jason and have gotten genuinely angry if he was too nice or too angry or whatever so it’s all ahdjfnfjfn-

Anyways I hope you enjoy though- :DD

——————————————————————

The wedding the both of you have was small. Well, small-ish - there was a lot of people he wanted to invite, surprisingly, ranging from some close friends, to allies in the vigilante world, to his family. There were a lot of vigilante’s in their civilian forms at your guy’s wedding. Your side of the family was really surprised The Bruce Wayne and The Clark Kent was there without any paparazzi whatsoever.

(You and Jason were very careful about that. So was Bruce, especially for all the hell Jason went through when he was younger. They may be on better terms now, but he still felt he had a lot to make up for. Jason is completely fine with that - to a point, of course.)

The honeymoon? Nice and calm vacation to a small town near Smallville. Jason and you wanted a getaway for just eachother, without any stresses of vigilante stuff, or villains to inevitably interrupt that.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, his siblings were also keeping a very strict routine of ‘DO NOT CONTACT JASON OR Y/N UNLESS IF IT IS A DIRE, DIRE EMERGENCY’

Trust me, if it was two dires you both would’ve had to come home.

Luckily that didn’t happen.

Now, married life back in the city was a whole other thing to get used to.

You two have already lived together for the past couple years beforehand. You two have already dealt with your fair share of strains in the relationship, and still do to some degree. But luckily over the years before marriage you guys found a way to deal with that in a healthy way.

You prioritize healthy coping skills. So does Jason.

Even your respective therapists do. (Harley Quinn helped you both find ones qualified for your respective traumas. Very hard task, but Harley has a bit of a soft spot for Red Hood both in and out of the mask. She’s pretty chill with you too.)

Jason has his bouts of anger. Never, ever takes it out on you though, ever. Hell no. You guys have a punching bag for that. Sometimes you both use it together if you guys are venting about your day! Very cathartic and nice to bond with.

He teaches you how to fight. Just in case. You hate using weapons but he helps you get more comfortable, and you guys go over plans in case of break-ins, kidnappings, ect.

Especially if someone decides to burgle your cat.

You guys have a black cat you guys found in an alleyway a year into dating. He is your guy’s son that you decided to name Robin. Jason didn’t like the name at first, especially since you not-so-subtly alluded it to be reminiscent of his Robin days, but over time it stuck.

Robin is a nice and very sweet kitty. No one messes with Robin and you have thrown hands after someone broke into your apartment once to steal him. That was also during the time you moved in with Jason, he freaked out when you called him after the break in. Thoroughly impressed you managed to beat up the intruder but he cares about your’s and your cat’s safety - you moved in not long afterwards.

Reading and drawing dates - you guys, even into your marriage, go on small dates like these that don’t require too much thought or money. Sometimes you go to the park, or if it’s raining to your guy’s favorite café, with your favorite books (and sketchbook no. 173637294 for you specifically), and just enjoy your times together.

You guys do it at home too, but it’s fun to dress up and get out of the apartment for those kinds of dates.

Your home, despite all the weapons he has hidden around or on ‘decorative’ display, is quite cozy too!! It’s your safe space and you want it to exude that energy all throughout. Jason likes figuring out where decorations and furniture should go with you, it’s his favorite thing that gives him a sense of normalcy with you.

Also the banter between you two is fun. Smartass after smartass remark leaves you in stitches with laughter. Especially if it’s late at night and you both are loopy from lack of sleep. (Jason has more practice with that but it still effects him to some degree.)

At this point being married, you’re used to his nightly activities too. Sometimes you stay up and make him his favorite food to the best of your ability (you aren’t too good at cooking, but you’re learning for the both of you, same as him). Other times you just order takeout and eat with him.

Sometimes you help with his injuries, other times you don’t. If they’re small and benign he’s able to do them himself, bigger ones have you worried and helping him.

You always make sure he has an icepack ready for bruises. He’s taught you how to stitch wounds up to, given the fact that you don’t have as much medical experience as him.

Also after his nightly escapades as Red Hood, you guys sit and have tea too!! Calms him down enough to sleep, even if some nights are harder than others.

He’s gotten better at coping with his PTSD, but as per the usual he does have his nightmares at times. You being there right next to him helps. And you help ground him back into reality. Be it cuddles, if he’s comfortable with them, or be it just sitting there next to him and talking to him about whatever’s on your mind until he’s laying back down to listen to you.

You guys switch between who’s big and little spoon.

Robin is always near you guys in some way during bedtime. One time you woke up to cat fur in between your’s and Jason’s heads before. Robin doesn’t understand personal space at all but you guy’s love it all the same.

Speaking of which, he’s a natural born shoulder kitty! He will jump on your shoulders when the offer is available. Sometimes he scares the crap out of the both of you though whenever he’s being frisky, though. But normally Robin’s smart enough to do it when you two are aware that he’s there. He learns.

On your harder days, Jason makes you breakfast and makes you tea just like you do for him. He always asks you what you need, what you’re comfortable with. Some days it’s cuddling, other times when you don’t want to be touched you just tell him you want him near only. He knows that’s when he can just sit beside you on either the couch, table, barstools or bed and just read while you listen and watch your guy’s favorite shows.

You guys also have nights where you guys have watch parties too.

Sometimes his siblings join in too, bringing food from Alfred as well. It’s fun, and annoying for Jason at times, but still great nonetheless.

You guys visit the manor when needed, or during holidays too. Hanukkah, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, certain Galas, birthday parties, ect.

Sometimes you guys both just visit to mess with his siblings and Bruce. Cause some chaos a bit, that sort of thing. It’s fun.

Also you guys have gossip dates.

Be it about vigilante drama, co-worker drama, customer drama, family drama, villain drama, you guys will gossip and when those dates are at home Robin the cat will put his two cents in as well. He’s as vocal as he is sweet. Which is very.

And sometimes you record when Jason and Robin have conversations. Neither of you guys can understand the cat’s meows but it’s so fun interpreting it and seeing your husband have a full on conversation with the cat. You send it to the group chat you’re in with all the siblings and he never hears the end of it for the next few patrols. Sometimes Dick and Tim and Duke want to know what the tea is between Jason and the cat and he always says “That’s between me, my spouse and my cat, not you three.”

You inevitably tell them anyways, as well as Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Also Damian loves Robin that cat. He requests play dates between his pets and yours. You always cave for the kid, much to Jason’s dismay. But then again, he caves for him too. He always does.

Speaking of kids, I don’t think you guys will necessarily have one for a long, long while.

You guys agreed that you have to be absolutely sure and ready. Financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, mentally. Kids are a big responsibility and neither of you want your kids to ever grow up in an unsafe and unstable environment.

When you guys are ready though, which won’t be for a long while, I’m sure you guys will pull a Bruce and adopt or foster kids. Teenagers first, along with their siblings if they have any. You’d never separate them from their siblings - hell, the both of you, along with some help from his family and friends, would track siblings down if needed.

Like I said though, that won’t be for a long while.

You two are perfectly content in your save haven apartment with your lovely black cat Robin.

Besides, if you guys had kids early, Robin would be jealous and attention starved.

Neither of you would want that.

[acid-ixx]

(01/05/25) — a loving family, an unpalatable desire masterlist

ft. romantic! yan bruce wayne w/ platonic yan! batfam x gn! spouse reader x romantic! yan clark kent w/ platonic yan! superfam

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✮ MAIN MASTERLIST ✮

— TRIGGER WARNINGS !

- lowercase writing, nsfw themes, emotional neglect, adultery/cheating, eventual voyeurism, mentions of divorce, other warnings would be added soon.

— SYNOPSIS !

bruce wayne, he's a special man with a special reputation. day in, the crowd sees him as a billionaire, a charitable philanthropist, a playboy, and a father to multiple kids, adopted or not. day out, he's the city's guarded vigilante who spends his night fighting crime for the sake of its protection.

in all his roles, he was damn good at it.

but never at being a husband.

always absent, always busy, never turning his back on his poor spouse, you, whilst his children take it in themselves to never appreciate the effort you've exhausted caring for them.

it shouldn't have been such a surprise that you fell into the arms of a different man after the years of constantly vying for an actual family that loves you.

one day, you're saved by your very own personal hero from the crummy claws of the paparazzi, clark kent, a widowed reporter who have taken it upon himself to shield you from their invasive questions.

from there on out, you became his. and his little family became yours, too.

but not for long, because suddenly, the family you left behind wants you back in their grasp once more. this time, their hold on you won't be so loose anymore.

— CHAPTERS ! ; 00k+ words

00. — new beginnings.

— DRABBLES ! ; #series: loving family, unpalatable desire

before the bell rings (romantic! yan bruce wayne w/ platonic! yan batfam x gn! reader spinoff)

tell your baby, that i'm your baby (platonic! yandere damian wayne x gn! reader x yandere superfam)

planned fanfics

more planned fics

— ASKS ! ; #series: loving family, unpalatable desire

is it an infidelity situation?

how does damian react to jon showing the picture?

— INCORRECT QUOTES !

unorganized fake tweets pt. 1

— FANART !

jon showing damian a photo of reader

a picture of the reader in clark's wallet

before the bell rings fanar ft. feral bruce

— TAGLIST ! ; taglist is under construction!

none so far.

[green-butterfly-writes]

Concept: (romantic) yandere batboys and a reader who knows (kind of)

Consists of Tim, Jason, and Dick. Could be read as them working together or in competition.

TW: light yandere behavior

1) camera

It started when you find a small camera hidden on top of a shelf

Mostly out of fear, partly out of caution, you brake it (and make it look like an accident) by smashing a heavy box into it

You checked on it periodically when taking things in and out of the box

It disappeared after your new friend Tim came to visit

And then you found a new one hidden on top of your fridge that definitely wasn’t there before

So you pretend not to see it, then knock it off and step on it.

And so the game began. Every time Tim came over, he hid a new camera, and you’d find it, brake it, and play innocent

2) neighbor

The apartment directly across the hall was rented to a strange man named Jayson. You consider him strange because he’s constantly covered in cuts and bruises, and always lied about them

He also lies about where he works. Constantly.

But you like to eat your breakfast on your balcony, and he drinks coffee on his at the same time, so you see each other fairly often and he’s nice to chat to

But then he slipped up. Mentioned something you hadn’t told him about. Something you had only mentioned to your old friend. A friend who currently lives in France.

…

Was he listening in on your calls

You decided to test your theory

You called your cousin, went as far back into your apartment as you could (to rule out the possibility of him hear through the walls), and told her about how much you miss you exs soft, fluffy hair. How you find men with shiny hair attractive. How you think that it’s important your partner knows how to take care of himself, and that was a good way to tell if he did or not.

The next morning his hair looked noticeably fluffier

Theory confirmed

(Tim’s hair also looked nicer the next time you saw him. maybe you should look into that)

3) accompaniment

Nightwing knew you name

This is odd because you never told him your name

You didn’t work nights, so your interactions with Gothams vigilantes was limited to occasional glimpses at Signal

and yet some how he knew your name

You expect his offer to walk you home, and wave him forward

You let him take the lead, chatting with him and laughing at his jokes

You never told him your address, never told him were to go, be he took you to the doorstep of your complex

That was… odd

But then again Gotham is odd

It’s probably nothing to worry about

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Four

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Warning: Obessive behavior, Yandere tendencies, su*c*de/death.

A/N: Finally adding warning labels. We’re getting somewhere. I’ve had some of this written out, but had to add some stuff in to drive it home. Reader’s coping skills are failing, but everyone’s starting to get obsessive. Also, I’ve been fighting myself on drawing art for this. (I’m a bit out of practice.)

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Reader has basically called befriending Damian and Jason a lost cause.

Bruce still avoids reader. And, everyone else is still busy with what Reader assumes is Batwork. (Which is fine, Reader is fine. It’s not like they’re stuck in the manor pacing the halls every damn day.)

Cass and Duke’s get back from their respective missions. They weren’t gone too long, but they’re come back a bit roughed up. They debrief with Bruce and then have to go back to being civilians.

Reader is waiting to comfort them. Not to confront them. Reader’s more concerned with how Duke has a mild limp and how Cass’s knuckles have some bruising than them ditching. Plus, reader is still not completely sure that her family is Gotham’s vigilantes. They need to confirm.

But, Duke and Cass both appreciate Reader checking on them and not asking questions. Cass suspects Reader suspects something, judging by Reader’s body language. But, it’s nice for someone who’s naturally soft to be soft with you.

Duke appreciates how Reader treats him so, normally. In a way it reminds him of his childhood, when things were easier. He has a normal friend now, completely mostly free of Gotham’s crazy.

Reader is happy their back, but disappointed that they won’t be going to the school gala. In fact, a few family members make comments about how it sounds like a waste of time.

Bruce, however, is actually happy Reader is excited. And, Reader gets even more excited when one of their new friends ask to be their date. Reader’s date is so genuinely excited about going to this Gala with Reader. (Uh-oh, that’s not good.)

Some of Reader’s other friends, the more haughty and wealthy ones, tell Reader that they should’ve picked someone more… refined. Which Reader defends that their Date is perfectly sweet and good looking to boot.

But, this leads Reader to decide not to tell anyone in the family about their date. They don’t want to hear the same thing from their Gotham family. Reader does inform BFF, younger brother, and Nana of their date. For some reason, BFF was a bit disgruntled, and even Nana tried to convince them it was probably best not to go. Younger Brother was encouraging reader to have fun. (But he was whispering into the phone, and asking Reader if he could come visit them soon. Please. People are acting weird here. Is everything okay, do you need me to come home. No. No. Don’t— It’s fine. I just wanna come visit you.)

But, reader was committed to going and enjoying their date and wearing their custom made outfit.

That night, Reader was given Bruce’s permission to get ready at one of their friends’ houses. Reader was practically spoiled by their friends, it was almost a bit overwhelming. Their date meet them at the Gala escorting them inside and having a wonderful time. (I hope it last. It’s not going to though. How sad.)

At the end of the night, their Date escorted them home. To end a near perfect night Reader got a kiss. A long and pretty heated kiss. Right in front of the Entrance camera.

Tim had pulled up the camera feed when Reader got home, at Bruce’s request, just to check on Reader. (He was going to do it anyway.) The entire family was winding down from Patrol in the Batcave when the feed came on. Leaving them all to get a front row seat to Reader’s little act of rebellion.

(That’s all this was, right. Just a little act of rebellion. This won’t happen again, obviously. They won’t fucking let it.)

Bruce is livid. It doesn’t help that Jason wolf-whistles to further enrage him. (Jason is making plans to break someone’s leg though. Possibly the Dates. How fucking dare they corrupt you, that’s his job.)

Stephane is honestly impressed, didn’t think Reader had it in them. (How cute! I wonder what we could get up to together.)

Duke, sweet Duke, didn’t want to see that. His (best) friend getting tongued down on camera. He’s going to need bleach and therapy. (Why would you do that? When you can just game with him. You’re his bro. Gross.)

Cassandra is… understanding. Reader has needs. Reader wants affection. That’s fine. But, not that one. Pick someone else. (Llet her pick, actually. You can’t read people like her, you need someone better. Someone you she can trust. She needs to approve of them first.)

Dick is more disapproving, but he understands. Still, this changes how he sees Reader. Sweet innocent helpless Reader has a wild side. (But still reader is clearly helpless, obviously they don’t know what they’re doing.)

It also changes how Barbara sees Reader. Or confirms. Barbara runs under the assumption that Reader is more like Bruce than anyone realizes. (She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she thinks.) Bruce is a bit of natural flirt, he just hides it in his ‘Brucie’ persona. Reader apparently takes after that. (Damian sure didn’t.)

Damian, is disgusted, disappointed, and disapproving. He doesn’t doubt Father will scold you, but your date needs to be dealt with and all other suitors as well. (He’ll take care of it. He’s your brother, that’s his job.)

Tim, however, is legitimately jealous. He wanted to see this side of reader first. He got a glimpse of it before, but he wants it for himself now that he sees the full thing. (Also, right in front of the camera? Did Reader know it was there? If they did, would they be okay with Tim filming them more? Just to observe, please.)

Tim immediately starts pulling up all the information he can about Reader’s date. Without Bruce’s prompting this time. Bruce does nod in approval before marching to the entrance. Intent on putting an end to this and giving Reader a firm talking to.

It goes, horribly. Date is forced to leave and Bruce tears into Reader. (What happened to the outfit I bought you? Why didn’t you tell me you had a date? I didn’t approve of this. I don’t care that you’re back on time or that you’re old enough, you’re my child! Mine! You get my approval first.)

Reader stays composed, barely. The good news is that the brutal scolding is the only consequence Reader faces. (Bruce is more upset about Reader not seeking his approval than doing something he disapproves of. He’s your father. He should have a damn say. Would you have done this to D̴̖̞͑̊̓a̷͎͗̇d̸̜͍̩̓̎d̸̪̩̟̆̎y̶̛̼̌? Why are you doing this to him?)

The bad news, Reader’s date’s life is over. With just a few clicks from Tim and approval from Bruce, Date’s family company falling apart. Reported to the government, lawsuits filed by third-parties. Hidden debts needing to be collected NOW. Any misfiled taxes? Found and reported. And, most importantly, all calls and ways for Date to contact reader again, blocked.

Socially and financially, Date’s life is ruined in less than twenty-four hours. Worst of all, Reader doesn’t know. They’re still on cloud nine about the night, despite Bruce’s lecture. But, come Sunday morning, two days later, things fall apart.

Date is reported dead. Apparent suic1de just the night before. The financial implosion of the family was named the apparent reason.

Reader is distraught, confused, and hurt. What happened? What’s going on? This can’t be happening. I don’t want to lose anymore people I care about. I don’t want to lose someone like Momma and Daddy again.

Reader’s Gotham friends console Reader, saying it’s not their fault. That Date struggled with thought before. Don’t blame yourself. (They weren’t worth your time.)

Surprisingly enough, it’s Dick that finds reader having a borderline breakdown.

Dick clings and coddles and coos, but this time. Reader clings back. Reader clings back tight. Desperate for comfort. Which is surprising for Dick.

Most of the family tends to brush off his attempts at comfort until they hit rock bottom. For once, this isn’t someone hitting rock bottom before they need him. This is someone that’s just genuinely sad and overwhelmed and needs wants him.

Dick also ran under the assumption that Reader was allergic to affection, like Damian and Bruce. But, apparently, that wasn’t the case. It’s a nice feeling. To have someone not fight him when he tries to be comforting. Someone who is happy to take it. Of course, he doesn’t stay long. Once Reader pulls themselves together he’s got to get back to Buldhaven, but this time he leaves a bit slower. (But, him leaving somehow makes Reader feel worse.)

[hana-no-seiiki]

Sorry for the long hiatus. My meds for my bipolar disorder have made it very difficult to have inspiration/motivation for anything aside from normie activities.

Anyways I have a lot planned for this year! Hopefully you guys enjoy these works that have been in the backburner for a while while now. Love yall.

Without further ado, here’s a little drabble/some hcs as appetizers.

YANDERE BATFAM x HAREM! READER

tw/cw: DID coded shenanigans. Multiple Readers converge from my other works. Confusing fuckery. Yun writing without his meds. Featuring @sophiethewitch1 ‘s loser reader from What We Want. Mad Genius! Reader.

inspired by: The Herta (Honkai Star Rail) and a lil Iron Man.

Okay it but wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if Reader gave the boys a harem of their own.

Like perhaps they’re just this immortal genius that creates puppets. Each with its unique personality and looks. But all of them share one thing, a love for their creator and the batfam. (And are all under your control…mostly)

Let’s start with your failures shall we? After all, the most precious thing to a genius like you, is your mistakes. However few or many there are.

You created Cat Villain! Reader as a test. No flashy powers beyond invisibility and teleportation. What you did give them however, was a whole load of sass and mystique. Something that drew in the Robins pretty well at first, but they soon lose interest in favor of … well

another work of yours was Alien! Reader. The goody two shoes with a dark side. (You couldn’t make them perfectly straight and narrow, that would have been far too boring). But Alien! Reader started dating Damian way too quickly. And everyone seemed so happy with the arrangement that you quickly ended it all. Swiftly killing your puppet in a fit of boredom. (Don’t worry, you kept some spare parts in order to rebuild them later on if such a whim caught your fancy)

Now, What We Want! Reader was special. It took a lot of time, effort, and whole butt load of money. Crossing dimensions was a lot more difficult than you thought it would be. But of course, in the end, your perfect self managed to pull through.

Replacing the original What We Want! Reader with a puppet that housed a soul from another world? Genius. Absolutely brilliant. You should reward yourself with how smart you are.

Unfortunately the boys got too excited and locked her up. Almost removing your access to one of your favorite experiments! How could they?

And so you send her back home. Safe and sound (and ready for part two!)

While looking through other dimensions, a certain manga/anime caught your eye. Makima! Reader was inspired from the character herself. And Bruce’s lack of participation and eagerness in some of your previous tests. And so you made his utter nightmare. One who killed when it was necessary and kill you did.

Unfortunately Makima! Reader almost made [Favorite DC Villain] pass away and you wouldn’t want that happening, don’t you?

In getting What We Want! Reader to your dimension you failed to account one of your stupid puppets getting into the collider by accident. And thus was What’s Up Danger? Reader was born.

You let it roam free for the most part, but for some reason time seemed to loop around them meeting the batboys for the first time and would never go beyond it. (Probably cause the author hasn’t updated in a dozen amber eras at this point)

Exasperated and in dire need of some fun in your life. You bring back all the readers one last time.

And oh, the chaos that ensued was one for the ages.

Finally, a success.

©️ h.n.s. - yun | 2025

[iidilio]

𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯?| 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘴!reader| chapter: 01, (next part) 02, 03, 04, 05

[🌸] hi hi :> I wanted to upload this here, since probably many don't know it, haha

Summary: Perhaps the most important question is not; "How did you end up in this place?". it is; will you be able to finish the unfinished business that your self from this world left pending?.

...

..

.

You were exhausted, the movie you had gone to see with your friends had lasted longer than you expected. The duration had been three hours, and the idea of a hot bath made the somewhat stiff muscles from sitting for too long cry with joy. It was at least six in the afternoon, the sun was hiding, leaving behind a beautiful sunset.

The air was cool, giving you a little peace. The place you were walking through was lonely, there were no people around, which was weird, since you should be near the park and– oh, you can already hear the happy cries of little children playing. You felt safe, in a way hearing people nearby gave you some security because if someone strange showed up you could run to the park, you know; Just follow the voices and you'll be safe.

Although in extreme cases, you would just use the pepper spray you bought at that cheap store. Fortunately, for you, there has never been an edge case where you had to use it.

You were very close to the park, there was only one more block left for you to arrive. The screams of the children were getting louder, indicating that you were close, you could already hear the adults talking and some dogs playing with their owners.

You were about to get to where the voices were coming from when you felt the air changing and suddenly, you no longer had a ground to step on.

The ground had simply disappeared, leaving you to fall into a black abyss. The laughter of children, the happy voices of adults, became more and more distant until you simply remained in deathly silence. The peace you had before had been giving way to confusion and terror.

The feelings and questions racked every fiber of your being until you simply couldn't take it anymore and passed out.

You didn't know what was in store for you or what would happen once you opened your eyes, if ever.

Maybe when you open your eyes, everything will be alright again.

.

.

.

.

Maybe...

...

The old woman who found you was looking at you with pity... again.

You simply decided to recap what had happened these last few weeks in a lousy attempt to ignore the look 'Laura' was giving you. Apparently, you had woken up in a small town called 'Bibury'... which was in England.

'England?!', was your first thought when you found out where you were, your shock was so great that you couldn't speak for a couple of hours. The kind old lady named Laura had given you some tea to calm you down.

She had practically stayed by your side, patiently waiting for you to come to your senses, for which you were profusely grateful. Sometimes you needed alone time to process things, but not this time, you needed company and before you knew it you were hugging Laura and crying like a baby. She didn't care that you wet her soft coat with your tears. Your worries, your fears began to surface, how-how would you get back home?

You cried for what seemed like the whole day until the moon came up and it was only at that moment that you fell asleep, but before doing that Laura had taken you to a rather dirty and small room, she practically tucked you in like a small child while you sobbed and held on to everything you could reach. She had stayed close to you until you closed your tired eyes.

The next morning, you had a soup for breakfast that Laura had made for you. Having already had breakfast, you called the first number that appeared to you with your phone, which turned out to be your mother's, it rang a couple of times before—

'Sorry, the number you have dialed is unavailable or disconnected. If this is an error, try calling to...-'

"What?" It had been the first thing that had come out of your mouth, this was definitely not something normal. Deciding that maybe it was just a mistake, you called back, only to get the same message as before. With a tired sigh you called your dad, and they answered- but it wasn't your father's voice, you called each of your friends or acquaintances that you had in your contact list, but none of your contacts answered, not even your boyfriend who answered the first two or three rings.

Strangely, your dad's number kept calling your phone, you answered twice before giving up. The voice on the other end that belonged to a man sounded strange, almost as if he was in...shock?, although thinking about it, perhaps it was just confusion. The last thing he said to you before you hung up was a "who the fuck are you–?". You just turned off the phone after the last four calls because it wouldn't stop ringing.

Leaving you in your current state, unable to communicate and in a town you didn't know. Laura kept looking at you worried from her seated position. Deciding that enough of wallowing in misery was enough, you got up from the comfortable sofa you were on and sat down next to her. Perhaps socializing with the only person you knew would be better for now, plus when your headache subsides you might think better of what to do next.

Grabbing the small notebook together with the pen you wrote <<don't worry, everything is fine>>

When the old lady took you in, you learned many things about her.

The first thing you learned was that she was 98 years old. And that she was deaf due to an accident she had as a child.

The second thing you learned was that her husband had been killed in World War II. And all because he was enlisted in the army to fight for the allied countries, he had died due to the impact of a stray bullet.

And the third thing was that his son died several years after his father's death, due to lung disease. You felt bad because you were using her son's room, but Laura had told you not to worry about it.

Clutching the small notebook in her wrinkled hands together with the pen, she wrote to you <<you can always tell me anything>>

It could be said that you were lonely and somewhat hopeless, but with Laura by your side you felt that very soon you would be able to find a way to return home.

...

You didn't know what to think when a blond man appeared at the house that same afternoon. What caught your attention the most about his appearance was his beard and the long jacket he was wearing.

"Shit– I was right". Ah, he had the same voice you heard, he was the man of the phone.

Wait- what was he right about?

- - - - - - -

// curiosities //

World War II ended 79 years ago (1945 - 2024), Laura was 20 years old when the war ended. Her husband died when she was 19 years old, her son died of a lung disease that slowly became terminal when she was 27 years old.

- - - - - - -

I want a Laura in my life~ 😩

reblog and give me a big heart if you like it <3 and also comment and tell me what do you think! you can do it in this post or write it in my inbox!

[swampythesweetsketch]

Reader: Hey where's that blanket I just finished?

Reader looks at the bird boys all squeezed together to fit under a queen sized knitted blanket.

Reader: ... Hello?

Damien: This is not exceptional.

Reader: Okay, but-

Damien: Make more.

Dick kicks Jason out from under the blanket.

Jason then dives back in and knocks Dick and Tim out.

Damien, smiling: Nevermind. It's mine now.

The three dogpile on Damien.

[almostmylove]

Sleepover with each batfam members

A/n:I did not put in Cassandra or Steph since I don’t know much about them and I don’t want to miss characterize them from the little information I have( I’m going to read the comics soon trust) try to spot my favorite character!!!

None of the pictures belong to me!!!!!!

( you can think of it platonic or romantic i think it works either way🤷‍♀️)expect maybe for Alfred.idk

Summary:you’ve managaed to convince the batfam to take a break for once, lets see how it would go

Alfred👴🕴️

Place: Wayne manor

Its rare for Alfred to take a hour or day off but when asked with those pleading puppy eyes it was hard to say no to the one he considered his child.

He considers you like a children of him tho he does with everyone but more or so with you. But when you first asked him his immediate response was to direct you to dick or something else in the house but you insisted it be him.

Tho initially states that he is “ too old” to be having sleepovers and has a lot of things to do that doesn’t stop him from making your favorite cookies and other snacks( you going along with progress)

Out of curiosity you ask him about his childhood and you guys end up watching shows and movies that he used to watch back in the day. That something else that you never knew about him but he surprising used ( and still) loved telenovelas

Somewhere along the movie or show you fall asleep and wake up in the crips morning of sunrise with food (and freshly baked cookies) at your bedside and a small yet subtle smile from Alfred.

Bruce Wayne🦇

Place: Wayne manor

It's really rare for bruce (cough cough!) batman, to the have the night off but today is different. Most of the villians are locked up and stayed that way

He was planning on working on a case since he still had work but when you asked him he couldn't just refuse since he promised you a long time ago he would make time.( he could take back his promise to you at a perfect time) plus it wasn’t every day that Gotham was quite ( mhmm wierd).

I think he would be type of guy of guy to put action movies and skip to the action part just to analyze them (he woukd never admit but he takes a little bit inspiration from them).

Also Maybe some disney movies for old times sake since he probably liked that before his paresnt died. But he would be attached to them since he got to watch too many and it was more of a new thing back then. ( damn he’s old)

As for snacks probably popcorn for the both of you and a bit of wine for him tho if you want some he would probably serve you some. ( unless you are a child of his or something)

The rest of the night goes pretty well. Sometime the batboys “accidentally” stumble upon your movie and start joining in.

Dick is the first one to join and then the rest come in as if in queue ( in age too). After a while He apologizes and leaves leaving you with the remaining batfam. Alfred stop by and hands you guys some snack in a tray of freshly baked goods.

After the movie is over you excuse yourself to to find Bruce and you find him in the batcave , leaning on the chair and taking a Power Nap. His screen displays a case that recently happen so you leave him be.

You don’t happen to notice that on the very top corner of the monitor is a live video of you and and the batboys watching the movie with you no longer there.

Barbara Gordon💻👩‍🦽‍➡️🦇

Place: Barbara’s house

I have a feeling she would like action horror or romance and if you guys had a hard time choosing one, you would try via coin flip.

Head for horror and tails for romance

HEADS WIN!

You guys ended up watching a horror movie which probably wasn’t a good idea. Gotham was slow and calm which most people would expect you to be relaxed and calm but that made you guys even more worried. Like nurses say “never say it’s a slow night” since it means something big is going to happen

For snacks you guys would definitely order pizza and fries with a side of soda. Probably not the healthiest but who cares a movie night is the perfect time!( you guys would later regret that since you end up spilling food from a jumpscare)

In the end you two end up being too scared and paranoid that you guys ended up watching Barbie

( specifically barbie a Christmas coral and Barbie: a mermaid tale) on dvd and some how falling asleep on the floor, cuddling each other for safety

Listen you might be judging but even tho both of you are skilled, hard to crack people because of your double life , it still doesn’t stop movies from scaring you.

Dick Grayson🤹‍♀️

Place: bludhaven apartment

You guy would definitely have the sleepover in one of his apartment in bludhaven ( my mans rich or daddies movie but it could be his police officer salery🤷‍♀️)

He would like to have everything prepared in advance so that you guys don't have get up and miss parts of the movie. You guys would probably also do skin care like clay mask with the bandana that holds your hair out while gossiping or just talking about stuff and future.

(He definitely tried juggling your skin care products to see if he could still do it. Nope but close enough).

I feel like you guys would be watching a random romantic movie and since none of you guys read the description that one of the main love ingress going to die so you two ended up crying in the end ( him more than you)

For this one he would bring out one of his favorite cereals from his cereal collection which is littered in limited addition cereals.

For snacks Definitely pizza but instead of regular you guys get the spilt one. Half pineapple and half your favorite toppings. He ends up finishing his side and takes some of yours.

Afterwards you guys head to sleep but a new movie pops up peaks your interest ( something about superheros and you guys watch it until he falls asleep.

You bring his drowsy body and place it in his bed and head to sleep yourself

You aren’t too sure why he insisted on having the sleepover even tho he had a long day tomorrow. Well you did mention wanting to have a sleepover but that was months ago

Doesn’t matter tho cuz I’m the morning you woke up with glowing skins( same with Grayson) and an added chain to memories of connections

Jason todd🔫💪

Place: his place and out

In my opinion instead of just hanging out at his house/apartment or at the wayne manner i think he would like to watch a movie in the theater maybe hangout a bit in shops and then go to his place and watch a movie when you guys are cozy and relaxed

This one is a bit complicated but i think he would like to watch a slice of life first. It would only to see how it would look like to live a normal life and worry about normal problems (his death).

•You guys would maybe make home made hot/chile dogs and that was when you fortunately found out that Jason liked to grill. Surprise right?(HE CAN COOK GUYS)

The night would go pretty quickly going movie after movie but then Jason would urge you to go to sleep becuase its bad for your health to to stay up too long. It wasn't fair why'd he have treat you like a child it was only 3 am( same tho)

With reluctance from you and lesson on why sleeping is important from Jason you went to sleep but not before telling him to do the same. He nodded and with a soft hum later back and closed his eyes.

What a lair he was

Tim Drake💻👾

Place:Wayne manor

It didn't take too long to convince this man to have a sleep over with you as he had just finished a project that he had been working on for a week snd wanted a bit if time to relax(shocker. dw guys he just invented a way to teleport lol).

Im not too sure what types of movies he would like but i really think he would like super hero movies or shows and stuff that makes you learn so you guys would maybe put on shows like odd squad or wild krats. after a while you guys would change it to movies like karate kid and all you would hear is Tim cheering for the main character.

You guys would eat a lot of junk for that night like donut, ice cream ( nepolitain icecream), chips, soda etc and of course coffee. One of guys had the bright idea to mix the food together as a small experiment on the side and eat it. Probably not the best idea but at the moment it sounded fun.

Even tho all the hyper foods were severed and you needed a way to take your energy out so what’s better then movement

Just dance and Mario cart it is!

It was a surprise when drake pulled out his Nintendo to play a game snd suggested to play a bit.

You were crushing it at both games , too bad he crushed you at Mario kart but you got your come back in just dance.

it wasn't a surprise that Tim would fall asleep after that despite die to the insane amount of coffee he was running on.( you took away his coffee)

You let him sleep, wrapping a blanket around him and take off any accessories he might have like earbuds and stuff that might hurt him

In the morning it would be Alfred that find you guys and tucks you two into bed . You guys never know that there’s a small photo of that morning in plastered in Alfreds memory book with both of your names at the bottom surrounded by familial names and photos.

Damien Wayne ⚔️🤺

God damn, why was it hard to talk to this boy about.

It took about a whole month of you asking for him to finally but reluctantly gave in. He always said that “sleepovers were a waist of time” when he could be doing his better stuff ( he didn’t have anything better to do)

The sleepover would definitely take place in his room. Like hell he would risk anyone see you guys having a sleepover especially by dick (he would tease him none stop)

The words that he would say over and over again were "sleep overs are for kids, very childish i would never be caught watching a cheesy kids story". Little did he know what you had in store for him.

When you started putting on the lion king he stood up and almost left. If it wasnt for alfred pointing out how he had accepted the deal and couldn't back out now or he wouldn’t be up to the Wayne standers. ( Alfred’s the best). That seem to hurt his ego a bit and grumply sat down next to you

He sat very reluctantly and seemed very disinterested for the start of it until scar killed mufasa ( scar kinda reminded him of his gramps, maybe just the looks?)

After that he locked in like crazy maybe even being more interested in the movie then you.

Alfred would make some Sabich Sandwich ( vegan? This do before batcow)

You'd definitely fall asleep like 3/4 into the movie and Damien would let you. He couldn’t let you see the rang of emotions he went through in those few minutes.

In the morning you woke up in Your bed with a note on your bedside table, reading a great time watching and a possible discussion on the events of the movie+ an invitation by him to another movie night in secret

He wouldn’t be able to live if Jon or his brothers teased him on it or worse started to join

For next time is waiting to watch zootopia or maybe something else?

[eclipse-msoul]

Belong to me in oblivion

Reader X Romantic Yandere Batfamily

chapter 1 :

It was a dark night when the infamous Millionaire Wanye family left the movie theater. Gotham in its ever so glory was as dark and majestic as ever , they opted for the less crowded road and took a shortcut. A shortcut that would claim their lives.

Jr. Thomas Wanye along with his brother Bruce Wanye watched in horror as their parents were mercilessly murdered in front of their eyes. The robber ran away before the police arrived leaving the injured elder and younger brother in their misery. 

“ Br-Brother..They-” Bruce sobbed as he was held in his elder brother’s arms. “ B..Bruce.” the elder chocks, trying to hide the gruesome scene in front.

They are taken to the hospital , their parents having perished before even the ambulance arrived. The nurses and doctor surrounded the now orphaned brothers , tending to their wounds.

Thomas Wanye stares dull at his bloody wounds , the blood falling drop by drop from his injured arm. The arm he injured while shielding his brother.

' it's over...' he thinks 'They're all alone in this world.'

He looked up to see his now quiet younger brother staring at him. They sit right next to each other outside the room , where their now dead parents reside.Bruce stopped crying the moment the help arrived. Help that arrived far too late to be of any use.

The two make eye contact , their eyes dull and void before they hear your familiar voice. “ Bruce !" You scream , " Thomas !” they see you rushing to their side along with Alfred and your parents.

Your tears swell beneath your beautiful black eyes , threatening to fall and they do , as you embrace both for them in a hug. “ I'm here-” you sobb , hugging them tighter , “ Don't cry." you say. But they're not the one crying, it's you , isn't it ? 

“ You…" Thomas finally grunts , "Why are you here ?” His voice breaks as he tries to push you away.You pull out the hug , your huge black eyes stare right into his. 

“ I was worried…" you stutter , " I'm sorry- what happened to them-to you!” the Wanye brothers pause. Their heart hurts seeing  you cry. It feels as if something is stabbing them.

" D-don't cry (Name)..." Bruce swallows, " I'm strong.." Thomas notes how his baby brother hugs you back , something he rarely did.But the current situation makes all the sense he needs. " Don't lie to me !" You place a hand on Bruce's back. " It's okay to cry...no need to strong Bruce !" You say , then look at the elder brother , " Thomas... Cry it out !!" And they do , crying but not too much , because they know. You've cried for them all , those pink cheeks tell them more than they need.

" I'm going to be here for you both !" You say.

" Hmm." His lips quill up , your warmth giving them all the shelter they need.

Alfred gives a comforting glance to the two boys , along with a pat to both their shoulders. Your parents watch as you three slowly fall into a deep slumber.

As their consciousness fades in this gruesome night, they can't help but think. Thinking that maybe this city hasn't completely failed them. They've got you , so they'll be just fine. as long as they hold onto you

…

Time passes and relationships change. You grow and develop as do they. By the time your sixteen, your body has matured and you don't look half to bad if you say so yourself-

“ BRUCE WANYE WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING ?!” You hiss ,looking at your friend Bruce as he pulls back.

He grins , “ Doing what ?” He asks innocently. You glare at him , “ you– know exactly what I'm talking about!” No-way , he licked your ear and didn't notice anything. He's too smart for that.

He blinks before giving a mischievous grin , “ I've got no idea~”

“ Bruce , you--" your words remain still in your throat when you hear a cough.

“ Master Bruce , your brother awaits.” Alfred's sudden appearance really makes you almost jump. Of course Mr.Bruce Wanye here doesn't even flinch. He gets up from the bed and walks up to you.

You sweat , that little Gremlin smile isn't going to fool anyone. Alfred gives an unamused stare as Bruce easily picks you like a stack of potatoes to drag you out with him." Let's get going." The boy snickers.

“ Bruce-Hey I can walk on my own-” your complaint are background noises. , as he laughs outright ignoring you , carrying you out. 

Thomas Wanye observes as you both walk out. Note you being carried out with you screaming and telling him to let you down. Bruce gently places you down in front of his brother. ( Gentle as in hard)

You give Thomas a nervous smile ,”...Hey.” which he responds to kindly. “ Having fun, little bird ?” He asks with a chuckle. You glare and point at Bruce , “Tell him to stop carrying me.” He glanced at his brother looking at you lovingly.

He ruffles your hair , giving his brother a stern warning. “ Don't bully her too much now.” He says , " She's fun to tease Thomas." Bruce argues back , " besides you should've seen how hard she can punch-"

" Bruce !" You interrupt , trying to save your reputation. Thomas gives him brother a little flinch with his finger. " Ow-ch !" Bruce whines , " you deserve it ,"  you give a smug smile, knowing you can count on Thomas to get revenge for you.

“ We're not going to be seeing her for a while. You wouldn't want to taint her memory with this now?” 

“ Exactly-” you add , “ I've been telling him that !”

He raises his hands up , “ Fine fine , I won't do that- No need to gang up on me.” You give an unamused look. The two for you stare into each other's eyes before Alfred claps and voices ,“ Master Bruce , Master Thomas it's getting late , you guys should get going.” 

Thomas looks at his watch as he checks , “ You're right Alfred," he says , "It is getting quite late.” He Bends down to your height to give you a little kiss on the cheeks. " I'll see you soon ,(name.)" his dashy smile makes your heart beat.

"WhAt-" Bruce pulls you back , his hand gripping tightly on your waist as he kisses your neck.

You stare in red as they both take a seat in the car bidding you well , “ Take care ( Name )” . Your skin in the deep shade of red looks quite enticing as they look at you one final time. 

When the car is out of sight , the loneliness catches up to you. They're been the only thing that's constant in your shallow life. You lightly sniffle as the warmth of their touch fades.

Alfred thinks its time to console you.

He gently pats on your back , passing you a handkerchief to wipe your tears.“ What do you say to some lunch before you head back to your house , Miss ( Name) ?” He asks.

You think before slowly nodding.“...I’d like that.”

“ Follow along then." He guides you in for some refreshments and you gladly follow. 

“ You think shes crying ?” Bruce says as he stares bored at the passing scenes. “ She definitely is.” Thomas says without missing a beat.

“Makes me sad about leaving her..” He groans.

“ True , but it's for her safety…” Thomas grip on the glass tightens , We'll get stronger so nothing happens again." I miss her already." Thomas agrees on that sentiment , she's someone worth missing,“ Hmm.”

" Say Thomas."

“ Is the camera in her room installed?” Bruce asks. Thomas smirks, taking a sip of the red wine ,  his younger brother sure loves to underestimates him, “ Who do you think I am ?” Bruce takes a sigh of relief.

At least Bruce can see you , even if it's from behind the scenes. Even if your unaware at the camera that stalks your bedroom and....your Bathroom. 

It's for your safety Afterall...

It’s my first time posting here. So please be kind ! Also constructive feedback is most welcome but no hate ! Also I’ve no idea how tumblr works so currently learning it. Comments would really give me motivation. So drop some if you can. (〃＾▽＾〃)o( thanks for reading 💟 )

[acid-ixx]

no pain, no gain, right?

"is this all a game, or are they all secretly masochists?!"

nah, imaging being kidnapped by the batfam, neglected or not, romantic or platonic, and being expected to treat your abduction as merely normal, to love them like you've known them for your entire life rather than strangers who randomly decided that you're the object of affection they'd focus on their attention on one day—

do they honestly think you'd fall for their honeyed words? of course not! you're fucking trapped with both men and women alike with physical capabilities enough to trap you in a headlock or in a bear hug. they could kill you with a damn finger jabbed into your neck. is that not a valid enough reason for you to try and constantly fight them?

if you're a person bound on the feistier side, the first course of action you'd commit on, say, dick who's known to be the most physically affectionate, the neediest of them all - who's constantly kissing you, playing with your hair and laying his head on your chest - would be your nails digging deep into his skin and dragging it along his back, or trying to throw a punch into tim's face when you feel he's been staring into you rather than at you far too deeply for your liking, watching the blood drip down his nose like a faucet right after, as long as it means his eyes would leave your body for just a damn second.

whatever they're doing, even if they're always assuring you that they're doing this out of love, out of protection, out of their deep-seated paranoia that out there, you're not safe, you won't survive; their actions are all done for you — yet they'll always be met with you threatening to bite or chew their faces off. they're not your damn family, or lovers, or whatever fantasies they think they could reenact with you, and they know damn well that you won't be giving up soon, not at all—!

yet you don't know that behind your fiery side are those willing to let the fire burn much longer, those who throw more logs and gasoline into the ever-burning pit of rage and spite that crackles at your heart.

jason trying to trap you into his muscly arms only warrants your fight-or-flight instincts, akin to a gothamite walking past the crime alley, kicking and scratching at the man just wishing for a day of comfort as he sighs and nuzzles his head into the crown of your hair, breathing deeply to take in your scent, as if you're not currently pulling his hair out. he'll let you bite on his hard neck, or kick at the fat of thighs or even his crotch with no reaction other than tightening his already caged grip on your body.

a body much frailer compared to everybody else's. a mere gazelle to a lion ready to be chased anytime soon.

bruce placing a hand behind your back will only result in you digging deeply into his forearms, wide eyes and heaving breaths that reflects not only utter fear but a thinly-veiled threat of another session of attempting to uppercut him, like you're some wild prey ready to make a run if he dares push the boundaries you settled for. yet all he does is try his best to warmly smile at you without any weariness, not even any vigilance of your future actions, and most especially not fear.

how long are you going to fight them? why are even you doing this? to soften the blow? to make them wish they regret even taking you away from the first place? or do you wish for them to feel a semblance of fear you felt whenever their toned arms surprised you from when they appeared before a shadow? do they not know just how deeply terrified you are of them, that you're doing all this because you're afraid of their strength?

except, what you expected never came. you would've been fine with them punishing you, slowly losing their inhibitions, snarling at you every damn time you snap, becoming tired of your antics and threatening to throw you out, even mocking you for your weakness; anything...!

but not whatever this is.

not the stupidly gentle smiles, or the droopy eyes that look as if they've fallen in love even more at just how much droplets of blood you were able to procure with another set of scratches against jason's forearms. not the astounded whistles at another bruise you managed to punch into steph's shoulders after a momentary lapse of shock from another one of her back hugs— as of this were some all sick form of therapy. you know they're taking your daily fights seriously, you know it because they always take note of it by staring at each other every time you manage to injure them! but fuck, why are they just letting you do as you will?

since when have your nails been longer, sharper even?

why is jason just... staring at you, his gaze proud and mighty, not out of his attempts at mocking you but looking genuinely so gratified. there's rivulets of crimson dripping down his neck all the way to the clavicle until it reaches his upper pecs, multiple indents of scars already faded, now overlayed with fresher, even deeper ones; displayed like a museum artifact by his loose tee. his fingers, shaky and equally scarred, moved to run over the inflicted injuries, touching and pressing deep, as it just as quickly finds its way to his mouth, lapping at the blood, his eyes never leaving your equally shivering form; dread and disgust curling into your very being.

he takes deep breaths after lapping his fingers clean, his fists are curled together like yours; except your nails are stained with blood, jason's, a stench that curdles deep into your nostrils. and for a second you feel something scarier than fear, an immeasurable pit of doom that looms over your back. for a second, you thought this would be the last time you'll ever see the light again. just as quickly as you scratched him, you try to retort with an excuse.

"jason, i'm- i'm so sorry i didn't mean to—!"

"we get it now, angel...

this is your way of coping, right? it's all good, do as much damage as you could 's long as you get it all out of your system, 'kay?

and thanks, by the way. this one's even better than the one you gave me just earlier."

what does he mean? what's even better...? you just- you just gave it your all trying to engrave your sharp nails into already scarred skin; why is he talking to you as if he's congratulating you rather than scolding you?

no, no, no... he shouldn't be all like this... why is everybody staying silent all throughout? why do your ears wring, every sound mapped around the house turned into one singular sound? this shouldn't be happening, no! he should be mad, should be punching you, bruce should've broken you both up the moment he noticed your hands make a way for jason's neck— yet since when did anybody try to interrupt?! the only damn time, god... the only time they ever do is when you try to inflict injuries on yourself, but never on others... just why?

there's sudden clapping that distracts you from your thoughts, from dick's or duke, you don't know? one of them is saying something and you can't comprehend it other than one-liners and muffled, incomprehensible words.

"—'m jealous of you," that's duke's voice! what else is he saying? why is he envious? of what exactly? the fear doesn't settle down unlike all the other times, there's tears that began brimming on your eyes and you still stand in the middle of the living room, the chandelier's light basking you in its ethereal glow, yet you feel the opposite. you're no angel as what's jason called you, and the people surrounding you are more like demons than anything else; witnessing your fall from grace, taking you away from your home whilst having the audacity applauding your presence as if you've fucking graced them.

and then steph coos, your head snaps to the direction of her grating "awe's!". you're convinced she's looking at jason like he's been vindicated for some crime, eyes you never knew could hold so much anger and spite. you don't know why she does, you don't understand the hidden implications of her next words, you can only watch from a distance.

"that should've been me, y'know! that's so unfair of you!" her seething voice and hardened glare at the man subsided into your thoughts; who wishes to be hurt? who even wants to be the victim of your feisty glares and venomous insults? you know they don't like it when you stare at them with burning hatred— but why do they enjoy it when you physically scar them instead? when you punch at their noses and watch as the blood stains their clothes evidently?

and yet it only registered within your mind just now: how they never seem to patch up any of the marks you imprint on their body. it's only now that you realize that they always bare it right in front of everybody, some even wearing looser clothes that give others a peek of their skin in the more intimate places you've marked. there's bandages from when they go home after every patrol, there's casts that they wear after suffering through broken bones and dislocated limbs from the criminals they fight every night— but never with you, not even a gauze from when you've cut all too keenly into damian's cheeks, a deep gash that he's sported proudly throughout the following months with everyone else seething, even bruce seems envious of his own son.

"well, it's not my fault you didn't try hard enough, blondie. right, angel? guess they love me even more than you," his sultry words pierced through your mind, and for just a second, he was already at your side, hands weighing on your shoulder whilst his head makes its way to the crown of your head, leaning down to give you a lingering kiss on your forehead. he releases an airy laugh at the complaints that come after. and for a second, your claws were ready to retaliate from mere instinct, at how he dares treat the entire situation like a bragging right; but unlike last time, you try to hold back, shoulders sagging as you try to blink out the tears running down your eyes; all right after discovering their... sick fetishes.

fetishes you didn't know run deeper than just that. you don't even know of the competition they hold every night right after they put you to sleep, counting each and every scar, every pull of the hair, every bloodied nose, bruised eyes, scratched skin, cuts inflicted from knives and other sharp objects laying around, your very own murder attempts at your abductors; all tallied and inputted into barbara's coded system that tracks and points each and every injury. you don't know just how much they cherish these marks you left in their body, like medals dangling off their parts that showcase their dedication, their patience never dwindling at achieving your trust— bruce once said it was an unhealthy habit of yours, but dick retaliates, saying it's the only way they could get closer to you.

it's the only time that you willingly touch them, even if it's with animosity, with passion and hope that someday you'd maim them just hard enough to escape.

"don't even think tonight's over yet, todd. you all simply haven't seen what they've done to me just yet," now it's damian who butts in, with emerald eyes gleaming with emotions you're still unable to detangle. yet now there's hints of rage, a face that says he's ready to compete with what jason has to offer now, hands caressing the cloth he wears that hides an injury enough to compete with the pain you've inflicted upon jason, an injury you're far too familiar with.

he's the youngest, and sometimes, you feel the most fear trying to discern why he's too possessive of your time, of your space and your presence, all whilst sporting a glare that never seems to lighten. but nothing ever changed the fact that he's the one who pushes all your buttons the most, he's the one with the cruelest words and sickening intentions, enough for you to treat him the foulest you ever could; with murder the only product in your mind every time he tries to even come closer to you.

and his words right now made you realize just how deeply you fucked up, and just how equally as fucked up your abductors truly are...

after all, you did just bite him earlier, in the space between his neck and shoulders from when he attempted to lick at your neck, making sure your teeth grates at his skin and nearly rips at flesh; to the point where the taste of blood that filled your mouth still lingers even until now.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: art by yuto sano. written in 30 minutes sheesh. you know what's scarier than your kidnappers retaliating against you whenever you try to attack them? them taking it all in stride instead. the delusional belief that it's your own expressive way of getting used to their presence— even going as far as turning it into some sort of competition on who gets to have the most scars by the end of the day. i think that's absolutely more insane than just punishing you, and please tell me i was at least able to portray the feeling of doom well with this. i also hope this isn't too ooc. guys, pls pls pls tell me what you think of this, did this cook or what? interaction's been low lately and i've been feeling demotivated to write so uhm... also, if anyone wants me to write the difference between the romantic or platonic implications of masochist/sub batfam, just tell me and i will!

this is inspired by @on-leatheredwings post about masochist tim drake. she's literally the reason why i read the entire red robin comic run and was obsessed with him for like a long period of time because of her banger portrayal of him. and it's also inspired by @sleepingdiaryzzz's recent post, her writing is really immaculate and well thought out unlike mine LMAO and she's a tad bit underrated so you guys definitely should check her out! this post is also dedicated to @neerathebrightstar, thank u for being my coolest supporter ever.

[kenobers]

Jason Todd Headcanons

just a few thoughts that help inform the way i write this doof. it's linked below as well, but check out jason's spotify wrapped if you have a minute! ;-)

Samsung User

Jason says he likes his coffee dark, but secretly orders flavored lattes (see that one Hozier photo)

Puts cinnamon in his coffee grounds

He may have good taste in books, but he's got shit taste in movies

Loves a few basic safe picks - Fight Club, Pulp Fiction, things you might expect from someone like him

But his "Watch Again" list is all cheesy action movies and wacky comedies. Mark Wahlberg appears a little too often.

Doesn’t watch a lot of television, but sometimes likes to fall asleep to Family Guy or South Park

Has one ear piercing he got on a dare, done by either one of his brothers or one of the Outlaws

Good gift giver, but only wraps things in newspaper

Really terrible about remembering to take his medication

To the point that Dick and Tim got him one of those every day of the week pill boxes as a joke - but it's actually been incredibly helpful

Is a regular at his neighborhood corner store

To the point where the guys at the counter don’t even card him anymore

He's the type of man to sleep till noon, 1:30 on Sundays

If he's sharing a bed, he will snuggle up to you in his sleep

Snores

Unfortunately uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash

Has an high tolerance for weed, which annoys the hell out of him because he enjoys a joint but does not fuck with edibles

Every time he tries an edible, he stares at himself in the mirror for three hours and Does Not like it

Drunk Yapper

Beer Drinker

Doesn't always know his own strength

Not in the accidentally-break-someone's-arm type of way, but definitely in the sometimes-closes-the-door-too-hard-and-goes-"whoopsie daises!" type of way

Thankfully, he's become a pretty great handy man

Despite being a certified Car Guy, he did die at 15 and as a consequence is lowkey still learning how to drive a non-military grade car (in other words, he's a shit driver) (but it's okay, he sticks to the motorcycle and public transportation)

He's not a hugger, but he is a leaner

Thrifts all of his clothes

Prefers to get his books from local indie/second-hand/new & used bookstores

But still has a Barnes & Nobles membership card

His bookshelf is not organized what-so-ever; it's started to operate as more of a gun rack while his books get stacked underneath his bed (he tells himself that this will make him get through his To Be Read list faster)

His top played song of last year was “Kiss Me Through The Phone” by Soulja Boy

His music taste can be divided into three primary playlists; East Coast Rap, Metal, Ear Worms

Is the family expert on the Gotham underground music scene

He isn’t big on social media at all, but he has a Twitter with like 15 followers he uses to keep an eye on whoever

(and also to keep up with music and book updates)

He’s occasionally very funny on it. But just occasionally.

Just Online enough to know who Trisha Paytas is, not Online enough to know who ClubChalamet is

He got his GED once he joined the family again

and yes, they threw him a little party to celebrate

Has the BatChat on silent, but still checks it regularly

Terrible texter; you’ll either hear back from him immediately or in three weeks time

“srry didn’t see this”

(he did see this, he just got anxiety about it)

Has a lot of anxiety about smalls things like that

Especially when it comes to the Bat Family

He’s not always sure where he stands with everyone - if they like him, trust him, want him there

Paranoid that they’re nosy because they secretly think he’s going to go rogue again

Has to constantly remind himself that they’re just nosy the same way that he’s nosy - because this is literally a family of detectives

[myerssimp21]

Iceberg's Jewel pt. 1

This is just another idea rattling around in my head! While this is still yandere Batfam, the premise is slightly different—here, they haven’t quite met you yet. The focus starts with Oswald Cobblepot and the Iceberg Lounge, but trust me, the Batfamily won’t be far behind. Timeline-wise, this would technically come first, even though in my other yandere Batfam fics, Tim and Jason have already had their moments with you. So yes, there will be a plot hole later where they’ve somehow already hooked up with you—just roll with it. Consider it canon-ish, but mostly just me playing around with ideas. tl;dr: This is a prequel of sorts to my other yandere Batfam fics, but I’m mostly here to have fun with the concept. Hope you enjoy! 💙 word count: 3201

Oswald Cobblepot prided himself on running a tight ship. The Iceberg Lounge was a beacon of opulence in Gotham, catering to a clientele that wanted their danger with a side of champagne. When he put out that little “Help Wanted” sign as a joke—an amusing way to signal to the people he was looking for that he was ready to onboard—he hadn’t expected someone like you to waltz in.

You were nervous but bright-eyed, clutching a copy of your résumé (how quaint) in one hand, wearing a Gotham University sweater that screamed student loans and part-time hustle. The smile you gave him when he walked into the lounge floor was disarming—too genuine for this city. You asked to speak to someone about the janitorial position, and Os had to bite back a laugh.

“A janitor? Here? Sweetheart, you might be too good for this place,” he muttered under his breath, too quietly for you to hear, before waving a hand dismissively at one of his goons. “Send her to my office.”

His office wasn’t where interviews were usually held—far too personal, far too… revealing. But for some reason, he wanted to gauge you himself. Maybe it was your naivete; maybe it was the way your gaze lingered on the crystal chandeliers and plush carpets like you’d never seen luxury this close before. You were looking at him as a normal boss, not a criminal mastermind, and he realized he might like that.

By the time you’d been seated in the chair across from his polished mahogany desk for only 15 minutes, he was already hooked. He asked simple questions at first—your availability, your experience—but quickly veered into territory that let him know more about you. Your classes at Gotham U were interesting, but you worked too much to fully appreciate them. You loved your psychology major but struggled with scheduling, hoping that the pay here was more than the measly pay you scrounged from your other two jobs. He listened with great interest as you spoke of your genuine excitement to be working in a "classy place like this."

He didn’t have the heart to tell you this place wasn’t really classy—just good at pretending.

Cobblepot tilted his head, the curiosity in his expression sharpening as he tapped a finger against the arm of his chair. “You’re not from here, are you?” he asked, a sly grin forming. “So, what do you think of our little city?”

“Oh, uh…” You laughed nervously, shifting in your seat. “It’s… something, that’s for sure. Gotham’s kinda like… I don’t know, a scrappy mutt? It bites, like, a lot, but you can’t help but wanna pet it anyway. It’s scrappy and loveable.”

Oswald chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “Lovable?” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re a strange one. Most people run for the hills when it comes to Gotham.”

“Yeah, well…” You shrugged, the faintest smile tugging at your lips. “I’m already here, so I might as well figure it out, y’know? Plus, it’s not all bad. I mean, the people are tough, and the city’s got… personality. A weird, messed-up personality, but still.”

He found himself appreciating your honesty. It was a rare thing in his world—people who weren’t either trying to butter him up or wring him dry. And that smile… Hm. Something about it didn’t belong here.

Then, the door to his office slammed open. A goon stumbled in without so much as a knock, huffing like a dog chasing its own tail as he fumbled a thick stack of papers in his hands.

Oswald snapped to attention so fast it was animalistic. One second, he was relaxed, bemused by you—the next, his face contorted with fury, his lips curling back in a snarl that made the dim office feel suddenly suffocating.

“What?” Cobblepot snarled, his tone cutting like ice. The very air in the room seemed to turn electric, humming with the promise of violence.

The goon froze mid-step, eyes darting between you and his boss. He looked like he’d just walked into an execution chamber by mistake.

Oswald’s teeth clenched so tight a vein throbbed visibly in his temple. “You knock before coming into my office,” he seethed, voice dropping to something far more dangerous than the initial explosion. Cold. Calculating. A blade slipping between ribs. “You wait. You don’t—”

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw you.

Frozen.

Wide-eyed.

And just like that, the change was immediate.

His snarl vanished. The storm passed in an instant, like flicking off a switch. The barely-contained rabid rage that had been twisting his face smoothed into something almost… embarrassed. Guiltily casual.

Cobblepot glanced back at you, then at the goon, then back at you. For a brief, telling second, he looked—not regretful, but calculating. Then he sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off an unpleasant thought.

"Handle it later," he ordered, voice abruptly warm. Silk-soft. As if he hadn’t just been inches from taking a man’s head off. His hand flicked lazily toward the door, a dismissive gesture. “Can’t you see I’m with someone?”

The goon scuttled out of the room like a kicked dog, the papers in his hands rustling violently as he clutched them to his chest.

The moment the door shut, Oswald let out a measured breath, as if centering himself. Then, in a whiplash-inducing shift, he turned back to you with an awkward, almost sheepish smile.

"Sorry about that,” he said, voice dripping with artificial sweetness, as if his outburst had never happened. He waved a hand, dismissing it entirely, his gaze keenly watching your expression for any lasting tension. “Some of my employees just don’t have any manners.”

You offered a polite, thin smile, still shaken, but brushed it off with a shrug. You had already figured this place wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming, but the speed at which his fury had vanished was... unsettling.

Oswald noticed.

He noticed everything.

And for the first time in a long, long while… he wasn’t sure if he liked the way your smile still had a hint of nerves clinging to it.

The Batcave was unusually quiet, save for the faint tapping of Tim’s keyboard and the low hum of the monitors. Bruce sat at the console, watching the live feed from Oswald Cobblepot’s office. You were seated across from the Penguin, a mixture of nerves and polite excitement etched on your face. The Iceberg Lounge’s chandelier lights reflected in your wide eyes as you gestured animatedly, your Gotham University sweater and résumé betraying your earnestness in a city that thrived on deception.

“Can’t decide if she’s brave or just clueless,” Tim remarked, leaning back slightly as he toggled between camera feeds. “She walked into Cobblepot’s lair with a résumé. A résumé, Bruce.”

“She’s a student trying to make ends meet. That’s not bravery—it’s necessity.”

Damian’s voice crackled through the comms. “She really responded to a ‘help wanted’ ad? Tt. Typical. Of course that bloated bird would choose a naive one. She’ll probably end up scrubbing vomit out of his VIP lounge carpets.”

Tim tutted thoughtfully at Damian’s comment. “I mean…..he’s probably aiming higher than janitorial work for her. Did you hear the way he sweetened his voice?”

Damian scoffed but didn't reply. 

A new voice broke in over the comms—Dick, speaking from his position on patrol. “You think she knows what she’s getting into? Working there isn’t exactly safe.”

“She doesn’t,” Bruce answered simply, “But that doesn’t make her unique. Plenty of people stumble into Gotham’s underworld without realizing it. We can’t save everyone.”

Tim muttered, “Still doesn’t mean we should ignore it. If Penguin’s targeting her for something, we’ll want to know why.”

Damian chimed in again, his tone slightly mocking. “We already know why, Drake. He likes his toys naïve, optimistic, and disposable. She won’t last a week before she gets a reality check—or worse.”

Bruce’s eyes flicked toward the feed as Cobblepot stood, offering you a hand and gesturing toward the door. “They’re moving,” Bruce said. “Tim, keep the office feed rolling, and find another camera angle.” 

“We won’t have audio and depending on where he’s taking her, I’m not sure we’ll have visuals either.”

There was a moment of silence, the kind that spoke volumes in the Batcave.

Dick broke it. “She’s smart enough to know what Cobblepot is, right? I mean, who walks into the Iceberg Lounge thinking it’s just a nightclub?”

“People who don’t know Gotham,” Tim replied, scrolling through files, soaking in what he can on you. “..She’s a psych major at Gotham U, full-time. She’s been juggling two jobs already, so she’s probably just desperate for the paycheck.”

Damian’s tone turned sharper. “Desperation or not, she’s still a fool. You don’t wear a sweater with your university’s name on it when you waltz into the lion’s den.”

Tim smirked. “Guess she didn’t take Gotham’s prerequisite: Street Smarts 101.”

The screen now displayed the empty office, Cobblepot’s desk abandoned. You were out of their sight, and for the moment, out of their reach. But the Batfamily wasn’t about to let you disappear into the darkness of Gotham without a trace. Tim was scrambling to find a feed that would give them info as to where Cobblepot’s taking you, but at the very least, they have relevant info on you.

Dick’s voice again. “Did you hear her in that interview? ‘Lovable but scrappy.’” He smiled faintly at the words. “She actually likes Gotham. We should keep it that way.”

Tim again, confirming some details. “Transferred to Gotham U from out of state. No criminal record, no red flags.”

Damian’s voice cut in, sharp and dry. “Other than walking into the Iceberg Lounge with a résumé. That’s a red flag for stupidity.”

Dick countered, his tone softer now. “She doesn’t know any better. Give her a break.”

Jason laughed, his voice snarky over the comms line from his own patrol. “Oh, sure, Grayson. Let’s all gather around and shield her from the big bad city. What’s next, care packages?”

Dick sighed audibly, “Don’t you have a crime boss to scare right now?”

Jason chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Already done. You should’ve seen the look on his face. Priceless.” Another faint noise came through, likely the reloading of a gun.

Bruce’s voice cut through before Dick could respond. “Enough. Focus, Jason.”

“Whatever you say, B,” Jason replied breezily, though the teasing lilt was still in his voice. “I’ll keep an eye out, too, just in case our scrappy little friend stirs up any trouble at the Iceberg.”

Damian snorted. “I’ll enjoy seeing Cobblepot’s face when she quits.”

Bruce didn’t respond right away. His eyes lingered on your face, captured mid-smile on the monitor. Quietly, he murmured, “She’ll need another job. A safe one. I’m sure Wayne Enterprises will have something available for her.”

“Keep me updated,” Batman ordered as he stood, his cape swishing as he headed toward the Batmobile. “If she gets in over her head, we’re pulling her out. No debates.”

Damian’s voice came back, quieter this time, reluctant. “She’s already in over her head.”

Little did they know, Oswald Cobblepot’s schemes for you were the furthest thing from exploitative labor. In his mind, the idea of you actually toiling away with a mop and bucket was quickly becoming unthinkable—borderline offensive, even.

The moment he saw the way your eyes sparkled with hope and determination, and saw the way you'd listed your good grades on your resume in a hopeful attempt at impressing him and proving your aptitudes, he’d decided he’d let you sleep on the job if you wanted to. Hell, he’d set up a whole suite in the back of the Lounge if it kept you close and content. You could waste time dusting the empty liquor shelves or filing nonexistent paperwork all day if it made you feel productive. What mattered to him wasn’t what you did—it was that you were here, where he could keep an eye on you.

But of course, Cobblepot wouldn't admit that to himself. Not yet, at least. No, this was just “good business,” he rationalized. You were a valuable asset—your charm and friendliness were enough to lighten up even the Iceberg’s darkest corners. You had a way of making the whole place feel... welcoming and warm, like you were untouched by Gotham’s grime and crime. Plus you wanted to be productive. He scoffed under his breath, amused. Of course one of the first fresh faces ready to work at the Lounge was also someone who he didn’t dream of involving in his actual operations. Just his luck.

So, if you decided you needed an afternoon nap in the dusty janitorial closet? He’d send a goon to bring you a pillow. If you scoured the cleaning supply catalog for hours without actually ordering anything? He’d find it endearing. As long as you were happy and oblivious to the underworld swirling just beneath the Lounge’s polished surface, you could do whatever you wanted.

Unbeknownst to them all, while they debated your safety, Oswald was sitting back in his office, already plotting ways to make your life easier. Sure, he’d keep up the charade of being your boss for now—keep you busy with harmless tasks so you didn’t get suspicious. But he wasn’t about to let you work too hard. Not his sweet, naive new hire.

You didn’t belong in Gotham’s shadows. And as far as Oswald Cobblepot was concerned, he’d make sure you never had to find out just how dark they could get. Or at least, he’d try. 

By the time Oswald walked you to the janitorial closet—a tiny, forgotten room in the back of the lounge—he was already plotting how to keep you close. The closet was practically empty, a detail that normally wouldn’t bother him, but the way your face fell at the sight made him want to slap whoever was supposed to manage the damn place.

"Um… is this where I’m supposed to… work?" you asked softly, your voice unsure as you peeked into the empty closet. Your eyes darted around, taking in the barren shelves and dusty floor, as though you’d missed some hidden stash of supplies. "It just… doesn’t look ready yet?"

"Ah… this won’t do," he said quickly, covering his irritation with a smooth smile. "Looks like someone’s dropped the ball here. Don’t you worry about this, darlin’. I’ll get one of my guys on it—someone reliable. You’ll have everything you need to get started." 

His tone was honeyed, and though he aimed for casual reassurance, his sharp eyes flickered to the shelves like he wanted to set the whole closet ablaze for offending you. For fuck’s sake.

“No, no, this won’t do at all,” Oswald said again, shaking his head and clucking his tongue like he was personally offended by the state of the janitorial closet. “You deserve better than this mess, darlin’. I’ll have it sorted by tomorrow, you have my word.”

You blinked at him, “If you want me on the job today, I can make something work,” you offered tentatively, gesturing toward the dusty shelves. “I’ve been in worse spots before.” You gave him a sheepish smile, trying to seem accommodating.

Cobblepot scoffed softly, waving a dismissive hand. “No, no, absolutely not. I won’t have my new employee starting off in such... subpar conditions. It’s a poor reflection on me, and I can’t have that, now can I?” He straightened his tie with an air of exaggerated importance before leaning on his cane. “Here’s what we’ll do instead. You take the night to get familiar with the Lounge—on the house, of course. Have some drinks, relax, mingle a bit. Consider it my way of welcoming you to the team.”

You blinked again, even more confused. “Oh, um, that’s really generous, but shouldn’t I, like… fill out some paperwork first? Or sign something?”

Oswald chuckled, a warm, low sound that almost made you feel silly for asking. “Paperwork? We’ll handle all that boring nonsense tomorrow. No need to rush into the dull parts of the job, eh?” He gestured toward the door, ushering you back into the main lounge. “For tonight, enjoy yourself. Swing by the bar, meet some of the staff, maybe say hello to the security team. It’s important to me that you feel comfortable at the Iceberg.”

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if this was some sort of test, but his expression was disarmingly sincere. “Well… if you’re sure…”

“Positive,” he interrupted, clapping a hand on your shoulder with surprising gentleness. “Now, off you go. The night’s young, and the Lounge is at your disposal.”

As you stepped out of the closet and back into the opulent main floor, you glanced over your shoulder to see him watching you with a smile that seemed too genuine for someone of his reputation. You didn’t know him, but you’d heard some things. 

Unbeknownst to you, Cobblepot wasn’t just offering you free alcohol or a night to relax—he was staking his claim. He wanted you to feel at home, to see the Lounge as a safe haven, a place you’d always want to return to. Sure, there’d be paperwork eventually, but for now, the only thing that mattered was keeping you here, comfortable and unaware of the darker dealings hidden beneath the glamour.

Tim leaned back in his chair, toggling between the camera feeds inside the Iceberg Lounge. He was alone in the Batcave now, the others out on patrol in the city. “Well, there she is,” he muttered, zeroing in on his view of you at the bar. You were perched on a sleek barstool, your Gotham University sweater a stark contrast to the high-end fashion of the Lounge’s usual clientele. “She’s… drinking. A lot.”

Jason, freshly back from patrol—or what little of it he actually bothered to finish—sauntered into the Batcave, pulling off his helmet and setting it down with a thud. “That’s her?” he asked, nodding toward the screen.

“Yeah,” Tim replied without looking away. “You decided to show up?” His eyes flickered to the time down at the bottom of his monitor. "Thirty minutes early? B's not gonna be thrilled."

Jason ignored the jab, stepping closer to get a better look. “Huh,” he muttered, crossing his arms as his sharp eyes drank you in. You were laughing at something the bartender said, your cheeks flushed. You gestured animatedly with your glass while saying something they couldn't hear. “She doesn’t look like much.”

Tim raised an eyebrow, glancing up at Jason. “That’s what you cut patrol short for? To see her in person?”

Jason shrugged, his gaze fixed on you. “I was curious. Heard you and Damian going back and forth about her. Figured I’d check it out for myself.” His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “Didn’t expect her to be… this.”

Tim tilted his head. “This what?”

Jason gestured vaguely at the screen. “This… normal. Sweater, messy hair, drinking like she’s celebrating her midterms being over. Doesn’t scream ‘Iceberg Lounge material,’ y’know?”

Tim chuckled, toggling to another camera feed for a better angle. “That’s kind of the point. She thought she was interviewing for a janitorial position, Jason. Janitorial.”

Jason blinked, then snorted. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” Tim said, leaning back in his chair. “She walked in there with a résumé—an actual paper résumé—and asked about cleaning floors or whatever. Cobblepot probably laughed his ass off before offering her a drink.”

“He’s footing the bill by the way,” Tim added, toggling to a feed that showed the Penguin subtly watching you from across the room as he conversed with some guests. “She hasn’t reached for her wallet once. He’s just… letting her.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed as he studied the Penguin’s expression. There was no malice there yet, no obvious scheme in motion. Instead, Cobblepot looked almost… satisfied, like he was pleased with what he was seeing. “The hell’s his angle?” Jason muttered, his top lip curling in disgust at the possibilities.

“No idea,” Tim replied. “But if I had to guess? He’s trying to butter her up. Make her think the Lounge is a safe place, keep her happy and oblivious while he decides what to do with her.”

Jason scoffed, leaning back against the console.”She won’t last a week.”

Tim smirked. “You’re awfully invested for someone who just met her. Maybe you should prep a care package.”

“I didn’t meet her,” Jason shot back, though his eyes flicked back to the screen almost involuntarily. “I’m just saying, someone needs to give her a reality check before she gets eaten alive.”

“Maybe,” Tim said, watching as you swayed slightly to the music, chatting with another patron who’d joined you at the bar. “But she doesn’t look like she’s in danger. Yet.”

Jason grunted, pushing off the console and grabbing his helmet. “Yeah, well, I’m keeping an eye on this one. If Penguin tries anything, I’m ending it.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re helping? Didn’t you just skip the last half of your patrol?”

Jason smirked as he turned toward the exit. “Hey, monitoring Gotham’s underworld is part of the job, isn’t it? I’m just doing my part.”

Tim shook his head with a laugh as Jason disappeared up the stairs. “Sure you are.”

Back on the screen, you were oblivious to the scrutiny, to the way the curiosities of Gotham's vigilantes were beginning to blossom into something more.

[randomasfuk]

idiot boyfriend

Jason x reader hurt/ comfort kind of ig I’m not the best writer

Reader has implied trama nothing all to specific though, some is this is a-bit slightly cliché ngtl

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You stared at the note in your hand, not quite processing its contents. A mixture of emotions bubbled inside you, accompanied by millions of questions as you stared at the small piece of paper, only just understanding the words written on it. You crumpled it up and tossed it across the room. Anger. Complete rage. What the hell? Of all the ways he could’ve done this, a note? Did he really care so little about you that he couldn’t even give you the decency of an explanation? He couldn’t even grant you so much as a goodbye. Then, the tears came. You tried so desperately to hold them back. He didn’t care enough to tell you why he chose this, so why would you care enough to cry? Not that he could witness the response. But he had obviously cared about you—you saw it in the way he treated you, how he looked at you, how he noticed the little things: what you liked, what you didn’t, how he made sure to accommodate even your smallest preferences. He would go out of his way, break his own habits, just to please you. Even the slightest bit. You couldn’t help but wonder what you did for that to change, seemingly overnight. What had you done for him to choose to break up with you over a note?

Back to anger again. You knew you weren’t perfect, but he was hardly… well, a well-earned nap. How the hell could he do this? How could he have the gall to do it over a mere note, with absolutely no explanation? What had you done wrong? Anger, frustration, and sadness fought for control in your mind. You picked the note back up. It couldn’t have been bigger than a post-it, and it read: “I’m sorry but we’re over.” That was it. That was all you got from him after months of dating. He couldn’t even be bothered to see you in person. You had taken things slow with him, but you were so sure things were good—up until fifteen minutes ago, when you returned from work. He was practically living with you.

Pulling out your phone, you opened your messages—nothing from him. Without missing a beat, you started typing. You had no clue what to say, so you went with a basic: “WTF Jason, you could at least give me a reason,” only to realize he had blocked you.

It had been about three weeks since you received your now ex-boyfriend’s heartfelt breakup note. Walking home from work after a particularly late and stressful shift, the Gotham air hardly helped your frustration. Seething for a multitude of reasons, you were lost in your own head, distracted. Distracted enough not to notice the man creeping up behind you in the dark alleyway. Only when it was too late did you realise, and you hit the ground. A stinging sensation engulfed your elbow and leg as they scraped along the rough concrete. “FUCK!” you exclaimed, looking up at your attacker—a man in all black, with a Ruger LCP in his hand. You couldn’t help but scoff at how he appeared to be the most basic mugger ever.

“Money, phone, everything, hand it over,” he said quietly but demanding.

“How about you go fuck yourself?” you retorted. You weren’t a vigilante, but you knew a thing or two. You could handle this guy—he was short, his voice fairly high, and he had a mask covering the bottom of his face. He looked to be about fourteen, maybe. He looked taken aback by your response, but before he could say anything else, he was face-first on the ground. None other than Red Hood stood where the boy once was.

And you were pissed. Upon sight, you picked up a nearby stone and threw it at his helmet. It hit with a thud. He whipped his head around to look at you, but didn’t say a word before walking away, which only pissed you off more. You scrambled to your feet and yelled after him.

“What the actual fuck, Jason?”

He merely glanced at you before muttering, “Names.” His voice was deadpan.

“I don’t give a shit. Why would I? You didn’t care enough to give me so much as an explanation,” you spat back.

“Why would you give a shit anyway?” he asked in the same deadpan tone.

That caught you off guard. “Why would—WHAT? Because you are—were my boyfriend, Ja—Red Hood?” You stumbled over your words, slightly confused as to why he would think otherwise. You were affectionate in your relationship, which had always been encouraged by your very different lifestyles. Him being a vigilante and all, meant you’d had less-than-ideal amounts of time together.

You didn’t know what to do, how to feel.

“Why?” he spoke, his voice weak, quiet. You’d never heard him speak like that—so softly?

“Why what?” you questioned.

“Why… why was I your boyfriend?” His voice sounded the same as before—like he was unsure of what he was saying.

You found yourself unsure again. It was becoming the night’s theme, and it was really starting to get under your skin.

“Because I enjoy you,” you said.

He turned around to face you. “Elaborate,” he demanded, sounding more sure of himself this time. You took a moment, not knowing what to say. All you could think was, ‘I love you, dickhead.’

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could speak. “I mean, I enjoy your humor, the way I can talk to you about whatever the hell I want, whenever I want, knowing you won’t judge me. I enjoy knowing that, despite how fucked up I am, you won’t judge me. I enjoy cuddling with you on the couch. I enjoy the way you act like you know how movies or shows are going to end, even though it’s really fucking obvious you don’t. I enjoy relaxing with you after you get back from patrol, the way you look at me, the way you organize the cups in the cupboard in a really specific way I can never remember until you do it again. I enjoy your presence, even when we’re not doing anything. I enjoy talking with you until ridiculous hours in the night, and I know I always say it annoys me, but I actually think it’s really cool when you come through the window. And I really, really enjoy the white streak in your hair.”

Jason remained silent, his mask preventing you from gauging his emotions. But you didn’t give him a chance to speak.

“You wanna leave me? Fine, I guess, but can you at least tell me why you left? What did I do? You can’t possibly think I didn’t care because I—” You paused, the words catching in your throat. “You know what? Forget it.”

You turned to walk away, but his voice stopped you.

“I love you,” he stated, definitively.

That shocked you. AGAIN.

“That’s why I broke up with you.”

You were stunned, to say the least. You took a breath to compose yourself. “Jason, that’s the single most idiotic thing I’ve ever heard in my life. And I’ve heard some stupid shit, so please, in your words, elaborate.”

It was his turn to be at a loss for words. He couldn’t fathom why you didn’t understand, and you couldn’t fathom his logic.

“Because I’m fucked up. I’m broken to shit. Like smash-a-vase-off-the-wall broken. And it’s only gonna get you hurt.”

You were still dumbfounded, but much less than before. You walked over to him until you were right in front of him, without thinking, looking up into where his eyes were. Although you couldn’t see them, tears were flowing down your cheeks now you never even noticed when they started.

You were right in-front of him now and he knew he shouldn’t, he should walk away. But instead, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he leaned his on yours.

“I know,” you whispered, “but you’re not as rough around the edges as you think. And I think it’s part of why we work. Because you’re broken, and so am I. Our little broken vase bits fit together really, really well.”

“Can we please stop using the vase analogy?” he laughed softly. “That’s one of the most cringey things I’ve ever said, as much as I meant it.”

Everything stopped for a moment—it was just the two of you. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to truly feel the moment, which ended all too soon. Jason sighed into your hair.

“I just don’t want to hurt you,” he said.

“If you leave, you will,” you replied.

“Now, are we gonna keep hugging and arguing about this like idiots, or can I get my genius, stupid, funny, kind, idiotic, caring, amazing—did I say STUPID—boyfriend back?”

He pulled back, looking at you, and wiped a tear rolling down your cheek with his thumb.

“How could I say no to you?” he whispered.

[yandereforme]

Yan Jason x Joker’s Kid! Reader (Non-binary Reader)

You found out about your parentage when you were 16. Your mom, the woman who had raised you, had never indicated you weren’t her flesh and blood until that day.

Your mom had gone to school with Harley, and they had been close. They lost touch after a while, however, and didn’t see each other again until Harley was admitted to Arkham during her relationship with the Joker.

Harley hadn’t told anyone she was pregnant, and it was kept need to know. As far as most knew, she was being kept away from others due to illness.

When Harley gave birth, she asked your mom to raise you. Even though she was still somewhat blinded by her love for the Joker, she could still see that raising a kid with the Joker wasn’t a good idea.

Your mom was infertile, and had always wanted a kid. So, after that day, and after Harley was broken out of Arkham, your mom took you and left Arkham, only stopping to have a friend of hers forge papers making you her kid. Only five people knew about you, and her coworkers who helped deliver you died not long after, only leaving three to remember where you came from.

The reason your mom was telling you was because she had been diagnosed with an illness, and would require full time care in a facility, meaning you would have had to go into foster care, since your only ‘relative’ was your goon uncle, who would never be cleared to take care of you. She managed to sort out papers to emancipate you, but she knew that she couldn’t let you leave without his telling you the truth.

Fast forward to the Red Hood Era, you are a book shop owner, having inherited a building from your uncle when he died, and turned it into a bookshop, just on the edge of Crime Alley. You were known to offering homeless people jobs like delivering books or helping you stock shelves in exchange for food, money, clothes, and/or a place to sleep, depending on preference. Your good reputation with the street kids was what made Jason learn about you.

He decided to visit as Jason and make sure you didn’t have any nefarious purposes for your deeds. Not only do you two hit it off immediately, but you also care about the street kids, and aren’t taking advantage of their desperation.

Jason started visiting you every other day, often walking you home at night. He has a few of his men watch your house, and even has them make sure you get home safe when he can’t. However, he was still in heavy denial about his feelings….

Until the Joker Broke out of Arkham

Notes: In this au, the Batfam know Jason is Red Hood. Also, the Batfam will become yandere for you too, don’t worry. Probably won’t be posting much, I’m traveling a lot over the next couple weeks, but I will try. Let me know what you think!

[sillygoose067]

A Masked Promise

Ch. 37

Dick Grayson (Nightwing) x Reader

The infirmary felt suffocating. Not because of the sterile scent or the quiet hum of the machines, but because of him. Because Dick hadn’t moved from your bedside since you woke up, hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t even thought to take care of himself.

The dark circles under his eyes were deeper now, his exhaustion evident in every slow blink, every sluggish movement. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days—like the weight of the world had settled onto his shoulders and refused to let go, like Atlas doomed to carry the heavens without rest, his burden as endless as his guilt.

“Gray…” you murmured, your voice still rough from disuse. Your fingers brushed over the back of his hand, drawing his attention. “You need to get some sleep.”

He scoffed lightly, shaking his head as if that was the most ridiculous thing you could have suggested. “I’m fine.”

“You look like hell,” you countered, watching as his lips pressed into a thin line. “And this bed sucks.” You shifted against the stiff mattress, wincing slightly to sell your point. “I feel gross. I need a shower.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering across his face. “You’re still weak.”

“I’ll be fine.”

His response was immediate, firm. “You’re not walking.”

Before you could protest, he was already moving, arms sliding under you with ease. Your breath hitched as he lifted you as if you weighed nothing, his warmth immediately surrounding you.

“Gray—”

“I said you’re not walking,” he murmured, voice unwavering.

You exhaled, knowing better than to argue with him when he was like this. Instead, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him carry you through the hallways to his quarters—the same place you’d been staying with him. The tension in his body was palpable, his grip on you firm but gentle, like he was afraid you’d slip away again.

You tried to lighten the mood. “So… are you planning to carry me into the shower too?”

His gaze flicked down to you, unimpressed. "I'm still mad at you, you know that, right?"

Inside his quarters, he set you down carefully on the edge of the bed, hovering like a worried mother hen as you pushed yourself up. The moment you were steady, he hesitated, as if torn between giving you space and staying close. You squeezed his arm before making your way to the bathroom, letting him know you were okay.

The warm water helped wash away the remnants of blood, battle, the grime, the sweat, the exhaustion clinging to your skin. By the time you stepped out, towel-drying your hair, you felt marginally better. You slipped into one of his shirts—soft, oversized, smelling like him—and returned to the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed, a fresh bottle in his hands.

You frowned. “Seriously?”

His grip tightened slightly around the bottle, but he didn’t meet your eyes. “Just one.”

“No,” you said firmly, walking over and plucking it from his hands before he could argue. “You need sleep, not this.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t resist as you set the bottle aside and nudged him toward the pillows. He let out a heavy breath, rubbing a hand over his face before finally relenting, settling into bed. You climbed in beside him, shifting closer until your bodies aligned, your head tucked under his chin.

The moment you did, his arms locked around you, pulling you against him as if afraid you’d disappear. His face pressed into your hair, his breathing slow but uneven, his hold unyielding. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him, his presence, his scent.

“Sleep,” you murmured against his chest.

He tensed slightly, then exhaled, his fingers tracing slow patterns against your back. “I can’t.”

You pulled back slightly to look up at him. His gaze was distant, haunted.

“Every time I close my eyes,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “I see it. You died. The way your eyes—” His breath hitched, and he shook his head, swallowing hard. “I lost you.”

His voice was so raw, so broken, that it cracked something inside you. Without hesitation, you shifted, moving above him, gently guiding his head against your chest, your arms wrapping around him as he had done for you before. He didn’t resist—just let himself sink into you, his body finally releasing some of the tension it had been holding. The steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his ear seemed to soothe him, grounding him in something real, something alive.

Your fingers threaded through his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. “I was scared too,” you admitted softly. “Watching you fight Slade, knowing there was nothing I could do… I couldn’t imagine a world without you, Gray. Without Richard Grayson. Without Nightwing.”

His arms tightened around your waist.

“I’m expendable,” you continued, your voice steady but gentle. “But you’re not. More lives would have been lost if—”

“Stop.” His voice was muffled against you, but firm. He shifted, burrowing further against you, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not expendable. You’re—” He exhaled shakily. “I can’t imagine a world without you either.”

The room was quiet after that, save for the steady rhythm of your breathing. You continued running your fingers through his hair, grounding both of you in the moment. His body slowly relaxed beneath you, exhaustion creeping in.

And then, as if the thought had been weighing on you all night, you spoke. “I’m ready.”

A low hum vibrated against your skin as he shifted slightly, not quite lifting his head. “Mmm?”

“To go all the way,” you clarified. "You know...Sex."

That got his attention. He pulled back just enough to squint up at you, sleep-heavy but alert. “You’re only saying that because you’re drained right now.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I’m saying that because I almost died.” He winced. “And it put things into perspective.”

His gaze softened, his fingers brushing slow, aimless patterns over your ribs. “I get that,” he murmured, voice thick with exhaustion. “And believe me, I feel the same. But I don’t want you making this choice because of fear.”

“It’s not fear,” you insisted. “It’s clarity.”

He hummed again, skeptical but not dismissive. His fingers trailed just beneath the hem of his shirt draped over you, warm against your skin. “Still… sleep on it,” he said, voice softer now, heavier. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sighed, about to argue again, but he silenced you with a kiss—first to your forehead, then your nose, then finally, your lips. It was soft, lingering, filled with quiet understanding.

“Sleep,” he murmured against you, and this time, it was an order.

He shifted, tucking himself against you once more, his head beneath your chin, his arms holding you close.

———————————————————————————-

TAGLIST:

@mybones537 @thereeallink @ziziriaa-blog

[almostmylove]

A spider in a bats world🕷️🕸️ teaser/ introduction / prologue

Cold.That was first thing i felt as i awaken from sleep or i guess passing out. I cant quite remember what happened before all of this but i knew one thing, i have to find a way to survive. My eyes scanned my surroundings; pure clouds and and air from what i could see, it didn’t help that it was nighttime and the only thing that were lighting this dark cold night was the the sea of lights that shined beneath me.

My breath hitch as i desprestly gasped for air, the sharsh winds blew air into me which made it harder to breath.

My mind raced with possibilities but one with was certain. If i didnt find a way to attach my webs to i would f*cked.

My decend downwards felt like it had speed up since my now i could see the buildings approching and fast. Sonething that cuaght my eye about the city below, it looked nothing like my new York or really anywhere i had been.

More questions popped up in my mine but i had to think quickly. I aimed my webs as the tallest building i could see and prepared to shot. As i was about to a wave of nausea ia and pain hit me.

The webs shot out and grappled onto a near by building and dragged me towards it. A raging headache throbbed in my head and before i know it i hear a snap from above . I lazily look up to see my webs broken. Oh shit is that last this i managed to say before falling , not having enough to make another one before i hit the ground.

I fall and fall waiting for the impact and i wait, listening to the car below that honk and run their engines.i close my eyes i hear the sound of sliding metal cord and following it the feeling of strong arms wrap around my waist preventing me from falling. Before blacking out i hear a voice call out to me.

“ there , there. Look what got trapped in our web of Gotham. You’ll be ok don’t worry”