#that Jason wouldn't have helped

[arrowmaker15]

(Tim, stomping up to Jason)

Tim: You couldn't have told me that Mister Finger's favorite paper was yours!?

Jason, muttering: Here we go again...

Jason: Timmy, like I told Steph, when you would have taken his class, I was still a villain, and on the JL's most wanted list. And I hated you. You wouldn't have gotten help anyways.

Tim: Still! It would've been good to know! I could've asked you for help on papers after that!

Jason: Motherfucker you dropped out, remember? I'm already helping Steph with her classes in college. If you actually decide to go back and finish that real quick, I'll gladly help you. But until then, shut the fuck up and let me eat my goddamn cereal.

[boyfridged]

"but i was never more proud of you than when you momentarily ignored the bat-signal to concentrate on jason's plight." "and as an ironic result, both jason and bullock were almost killed." [batman, #377] (pre-crisis)

"choices. do i stay in gotham to live up to my responsibilities as the boy's guardian? or do i go after that madman and his nuclear weapon?" "it's painfully obvious which path i must choose. the question is how will i ever be able to live with this decision?" [batman #426]

the first panel refers to a situation when bruce ignored his batman duty to focus on his family (it's a pre-crisis book btw.) the next panels are from the beginning of 'a death in the family', when alfred informs bruce about jason running away. on a surface level, there's an obvious difference between the reaction of the two; pre-crisis bruce prioritises his responsibilities as a father no matter what. post-crisis bruce focuses on going after the joker. but i think one thing to really get out of this comparison is that no matter what bruce does, he loses. it's no choice at all. in the pre-crisis story, jay ends up in danger anyway. and in 'a death in the family,' it turns out jason wasn't in gotham at all, and the only reason bruce finds him is because he [bruce] goes in the same direction to chase joker. when it comes to vigilantism and family, there's no "two different paths" for bruce. the conflict has no solution.

[roobylavender]

i’m sure you’ve talked about it before but you expand more on your thoughts about talia & jason and how their relationship would be? what are some positives and negatives their interactions would bring? (your talia metas are everything)

thank you! on talia's end i think a lot of it would come down to balance and restraint. because there are a lot of unpredictable factors at play and on top of it her tutelage of jason coincides with her last years under her father's thumb so there's parts of herself that she's beginning to close off out of self preservation and exhaustion. that's why i like the placement of under the hood right after the close of lexcorp era even if it obv wasn't intended because it puts her in a place comparatively to take all of the risks after a year of complete physical and emotional isolation. and even then i feel like there would still be a lot of restraint because of the guilt over her part in jason's various massacres. i could see her reprimanding him but in a very cautious and empathetic way so as not to set him off the way bruce would if he was the one lecturing him. so like.. not quite in the realm of mothering but maybe teetering on the edge of it. and i do think talia would try to maintain some distance out of respect for his history. which may or may not fuck with jason emotionally because as possessive as he is of his own grief i do think he'd long for even the smallest semblance of what he thinks he could get. like guarded as he is he would certainly soften to her over time and abide by her guidance even if he didn't necessarily verbalize the fact. i don't really know that i'd see any negatives between them like at worst it would be awkward and strained because he wouldn't be sure of how to place her in his life and she wouldn't want to overstep

[cerealbishh]

"I don't want my father's divorces."

[sepia-stained-sunset]

None of the Batfam members would ever agree to a wedding where they invite the whole family.

It's eloping or nothing for them.

There's no way they're dealing with the shitshow that comes from having the world's bossiest, most annoying people trying to run point over one another chipping in.

[psychotic-nonsense]

Finally deciding to post on here again, so here's a summary of my current favorite highly-in-progress Stranger Things AU:

Vecna's Generals

A post-Season 4 timeline where the final attack on Vecna injuried him into near paralysis. To combat this, he revives the lost friends and foes of The Party, to take his powers and continue the fight in his stead. They return intact, yet cursed with the appearance of their cause of death.

While this collection of doomed soldiers are able to remain themselves for the most part, their leader is able to take control of them whenever he requires, to act out his destructive plans.

When they are free, or dormant, they are seen as "The Imprisoned".

When they are controlled, or activated, they are seen as "The Board".

Barbra Holland

Commander of the Demogorgon Legion

Physical changes ) Has taken on the aspects of a Demogorgan: taller, elongated limbs with clawed hands and feet, horribly skinny in the torso. Lower jaw can unlatch into two folds like the five-lipped face, but other facial features remain normal

Powers ) Extreme strength. Ability to smell blood - and thus detect life - from miles away. The brain of the Demogorgan hive mind

Personality when dormant ) Incredibly disturbed from her death and current situation. Limits speech and motion due to the difficulty. She tries to make friends with the rest of the group, but at first was only really close with Bob. She soon made friends with Fred through mutual connection with Nancy. Likes to listen to Eddie rant to her about how much the Party, mainly Nancy and Steve, have changed since she died, as it gives her a sense of peace

Personality when activated ) Feral, but efficient and merciful. Unable to speak. Acts and moves like any other Demogorgon

Bob Newby

Commander of the Demodog Legion

Physical changes ) Much like Barbara, he takes on the physical aspects of the Demodogs: proportional legs, clawed and elongated limbs, split lower jaw

Powers ) Incredibly fast, even when running on two legs. Enhanced hearing. Can break through most any material, ranging from wood to concrete to steel. The brain of the Demodog hive mind

Personality when dormant ) Constantly confused, but does his best to understand the situation. Feels responsible for caring for the others, even though he has a very small grasp on everything happening, since he is the only actual adult of them all. Disgusted with what he’s been turned into. Despite his changes, he enjoys talking with Eddie about the Byers family he knew from before he died

Personality when activated ) Once again, very similar to Barbra and the creatures he commands. Runs on four legs, and only extends onto two when necessary

Billy Hargrove

Right hand to the Mind Flayer

Physical changes ) Two additional pairs of arms formed from Mind Flayer smoke extend from his torso. The hole in his chest contains a small swirling mass of smoke. Veins pronounced in black and eyes bloodshot, similar to the locker room scene in Season 3

Powers ) Able to possess other beings by inserting the Mind Flayer smoke into their bodies. Can manipulate the smoke around him into whatever he requires. Can communicate directly with the Mind Flayer, and is able to prohibit the Mind Flayer from invading his mind, though only when dormant and for short periods of time

Personality when dormant ) Terrified at the fact that he’s somewhat being used as a vessel once again. Attempting to be nicer towards the others who suffer his same fate, if only to find some saving grace in those alongside him. Has found himself to enjoy Patrick’s company, though he couldn't care less to talk to many of the others, especially Jason. Has a minor understanding of their situation, and tries to find a way to free himself from the Mind Flayer’s influence once again. Desperately wants to find Max and the Party, to apologize and fix what he left broken

Personality when activated ) Acts the same as he did when first possessed by the Mind Flayer. Has an intense god complex, and sees everyone in Hawkins as pawns for him to play with

The Sacrifices

Vecna’s right hand men, and the symbolic leaders of The Board. Because of this and an odd sense of humor?, Fred has assigned them each chess-related titles.

Physical changes ) Due to the manner of their deaths, they each have intense flexibility, with fully rotatable limbs and a detachable jaw. Empty, bleeding eye sockets. Worsened sight, though there is no explanation as to how they can see at all. They’re all separate from Vecna’s overall hive mind, controlled only by the man himself

Powers) Due to the nature of Vecna’s killing, he still holds the abilities of the Hawkins Lab children, three of which he has passed on to The Sacrifices. Each of them have telekinesis, alongside a personal power.

Chrissy Cunningham

- The Bishop

- Personal Power) Can create highly realistic illusions, to the point where the subject's brain perceives touch. Her personal power is the strongest of the other Sacrifices

- Personality when dormant) Tries way too hard to remain positive, when their situation leaves her terrified. Knowing both Jason and Eddie died and joined her in this place just makes it worse. She sticks with Eddie most of the time out of comfort, since Jason scares her after she found out what he did in light of her death

Fred Benson

- The Rook

- Personal Power) Can “sight jump”, able to see through the eyes of another person. He cannot hear or control the person during this, however. He's seen as the weakest of The Sacrifices

- Personality when dormant) In spite of his own fear, he attempts to find a meaning or an out to their state. Though he understands its dangerous, ever since discovering his powers, he's been using them to discreetly check on The Party for those of The Imprisoned who were their friends

Patrick McKinney

- The Knight

- Personal Power) Can affect another person’s feelings, able to change or intensify them. His telekinesis is the strongest of The Sacrifices

- Personality when dormant) In a similar boat to Chrissy, but stands by Jason since he still doesn’t fully trust Eddie. However, he does feel some guilt over hunting Eddie after seeing Chrissy's reaction to the knowledge

Personality when activated ) Each of The Sacrifices share one mind and personality. They much prefer to take advantage of their new bodily functions, and remain in horribly contorted poses just for the horror. Have an odd sort of playfulness, and believe they’re owed something from the people of Hawkins considering their status in life and in Vecna’s service

Eddie Munson

Commander of the Demobat Legion

Physical changes ) Has taken on some aspects of the Demobats, though it's more subtle than Barbara's and Bob's. Large grey Demobat wings extend from his back. Sharp fangs and claws. A long prehensile tail that can split apart, much like that of a Demobat's. Dark sunken eyes with a white pupil, with black discoloration in his fingertips and around his eyes; it's unknown why he is the only one to have this affliction

Powers ) Vecna took pity when he revived Eddie, since he believed they had once lived similar lives. Thus, he gave Eddie the powers of a Hawkins Lab child; telekinesis, and the ability to translate emotion into destruction (anger = exploding anything in his vicinity, fear/sadness/pain = compressing objects into tight balls that burst on contact, happiness = melting objects through touch). Wings allow for flight. Eyes grant him enhanced night vision. The brain of the Demobat hive mind

Personality when dormant ) Considering he fought Vecna alongside the Party, he ends up knowing the most about their situation and becomes an impromptu leader of The Imprisoned. While most of the others either don't trust him or know him, they understand that he’s their best bet. Nevertheless, he’s still absolutely terrified, and clings to Chrissy out of a similar comfort that she has towards him. He likes talking with Bob and Barbra, since they provide a small connection to the Party. He’s mostly indifferent to Fred, Billy, and Patrick, though he feels bad for how they've come to this situation. He still despises Jason, now even more so after finding out Jason and his friends attacked Lucas, Max, and Erica. The two constantly have arguments and fights, made more deadly from their new appearances. Still, he doesn't stop wanting to fight against Vecna, desperately hoping to reach Dustin and the others while keeping everyone out of danger

Personality when activated ) Has the most control over his activated self. He acts much like his DM persona, smug and taunting and insistent. Refuses to touch ground, constantly flying

Jason Carver

Guardian of the Gates

Physical changes ) His torso is split in two, the halves still controllable and barely held together with Upside Down vines. The center of the halves house a mini Gate, constantly glowing red. Eyes turned a dull white in color, similar to Vecna

Powers ) Has the ability to travel between Gates and the Upside Down through the Gate in his stomach, essentially teleporting. Can also create new Gates and control the vines of the Upside Down

Personality when dormant ) Still very angry and untrusting, but it’s more to maintain some normalcy for himself. Despite everything saying otherwise, he still believes that Eddie had a hand in Vecna’s uprising and Chrissy's death. However, he does wish to return to normal, so he permits some trust into Eddie. He’s happy to see Chrissy and Patrick back, though it’s not exactly returned. Mostly he's just lonely and scared, and craves the ignorance they all had before

Personality when activated ) Ruthless and silent. His abilities allow him to be everywhere at once, so he uses that innate fear to his advantage

Max Mayfield

The Power Source / The Victim of Hawkins

Physical changes) The least affected visibly, but she no longer has a body. Slightly transparent, and is unable to interact with others in reality; in a word, ghost-like

Powers) Able to mimic Vecna’s curse, which is the only way she can interact with anyone. Can infiltrate the dreams of those she chooses, but not for long

Purpose) She was taken by Vecna after being killed, but with her body still functioning, she’s able to remain conscious inside his mind. Only remains alive due to being Vecna's only source of energy, and is the only reason he remains alive. Most of The Imprisoned and The Party are unaware of her existence for a long time, until she finds a way to contact them properly and act as a spy to take Vecna down from the inside

[izzy-b-hands]

im ngl i had a lil breakdown before my shower (which i took just before i went to bed to chill and watch the new eps) abt some thought-id-already-worked-all-thru-it irl stuff that resurfaced on me like trauma tends to and i just

it made everything in the show so. I don't know how to say it right. but i feel seen and understood and emotionally overwhelmed in a safe yet weird way, just like i did with a lot of s1 and I am Feeling So Much akdnfkgb (i cannot stress enough that this is a Good Thing and I'm absolutely thrilled and happy with the new eps and like. Going to be fine mentally I just gotta wrangle this like i have the times before.)

[homochihuahua]

The Hannibal!jaydick au is killing me

Dick would try to manipulate Jason through sex and He'd start sucking him off and lose all his resolves to do anything else. Dick' sex-addled mind wouldn't let him think of anything other than the pleasure he is feeling, a pleasure he has been denied for so long, either by circumstances or by his own self. Jason feels crazy in his mouth, Dick sucks him like his life depends on it, and in return Jason is slowly losing his very measured control He is finally having Dick wanting him in someway. Jason forces Dick of himself so as not to spend in Dick's throat, which only serves to agitate Dick more. Dick straddles Jason, willing to ride him, He looks down at Jason's face, looks into his eyes and is met with pure devotion in those steely teal eyes and what more? Love. Love? Love!? After everything! Dick slaps him, losing control for a moment, and Jason raturn to look at his heaving form, his eyes almost worshipful. "You can beat me while I am inside you", "I don't mind" says Jason "Yous sick fuck" "After everything, after all the shit you made go through, after all the manipulation and lies. You till have it in you to look into my eyes and talk bullshit" roars Dick. "Didn't you satisfies your curiosity enough already. Huh? When are you going to kill me next" " I cannot kill you, you know that, and before you ask why, there is simply no other alike you. No one to compare to you". Dick still heaving speaks again, but this time slowly and in control now "But you thought of eating me" "you've thought of getting a taste of me" Jason narrows his eyes, swallowing "It is hard not to". " Well now is your chance, come and get a taste. Here to the full meal course, Doctor Todd". Jason's eye light with fire in them. That was the signal he was waiting for and he dives in. At some point Dick starts crying. His emotions finally getting the best of him "I hate it" Jason halts "I hate how after all that you took from me" "That I still love you"

[eimearkuopio]

I would absolutely be getting burned as a witch. I'm autistic, I have ADHD, I am a cis woman who suspects she may have a DSD but has decided it shouldn't fucking matter, I'm not the smartest person I've ever met but with no false modesty unless I'm in a situation with a highly biased sample I'm usually the smartest person in any given room, I'm opinionated and my opinions are actually pretty good AND subject to change when presented with new evidence in a way that my neurodivergent brain can process and I am allowed time to digest it, and I was born without fear and recent experiences have burned away the last traces of the fear that the people who love me went to great lengths to instil in me for my own good.

Here's one of my opinions. True, bone-deep, apparently irrational rage only comes from one of two things: fear, or pain. Fear is when you think anger can protect you from imagined future suffering. Pain is when you think anger can protect others from imagined future suffering. Anger from pain is righteous anger; it seeks to protect others from what you fear for them, instead of seeking to protect yourself.

Communication is key, because we are all difference and we all have different limitations to overcome and vulnerabilities we were either born with or had thrust upon us by a cruel world. The most bitter irony is that if we fail to communicate with the people we love about what they truly need protecting from, and instead harm ourselves by shielding them from the things we fear, we can do more harm than good. A mother with a fear of drowning who births a mermaid will spend her whole life clinging to her child instead of controlling her fear and letting the child swim. You can't drown a mermaid; but you can drown yourself trying to save one, or become nothing but a millstone around the neck of someone who can thrive in what you fear. Even if your strange half-human half-fish child can survive on land, she cannot thrive without the sea; and just because you fear the storms and the pirates, you are not protecting one who can dive into the serene depths by forcing her to limit herself to what you feel is safe. There are dangers in the deep, but she knows the way and has no fear and is willing to brave them to find pearls of great price. Her soul cries out, BE NOT AFRAID; not because there is nothing in the world to fear, but because fear forces us only to listen to our instincts, not our minds and our hearts, and instincts are for surviving in the moment, not for building a life where the true dangers are fewer and further between.

In other words, they would have tried to drown me as a witch; and when they failed, they probably would have killed me anyway. Better to swim away than to let them burn; but I couldn't do that to the people I would have left behind. I survived your stupid test. I'm not a witch. I'm admittedly not entirely sure what I am, but I would prefer that you not burn me or any others like me you happen to find. I'm honestly not sure what the end result would be for either of us, but I've read enough of the rule books to be pretty sure you're all claiming house rules are canon just because your heavily edited version of the rule book says so. I'm not claiming I'm recreating Rules As Written, or even that doing so is a goal we should aim for; but I do think I've spotted a few contradictions in the law that I would like us to overcome together, and I'm not the first New Man and I really hope I'm not the first New Woman but I am really hoping someone at least has a less dog-eared copy of the house rules they might be willing to discuss with me?

[strawbuddy-luv]

Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)

Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"

Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"

Tim: "...Ok?"

Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "

Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."

Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."

Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"

Dick: "...yeah..."

-----

Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."

Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."

Steph: "..."

Tim: "...What-?"

Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"

Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."

Steph: :...What-"

-----

Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-

Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"

Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-

Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...

Your fucking what-"

-----

Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"

Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"

Bruce: "...N-"

Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."

Bruce: "You-"

Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"

Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"

Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."

Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."

Steph: "Yeah bu-"

Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."

Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"

Bruce: "Tim."

The entire table: "..."

Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"

Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"

Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"

Tim: "...

I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"

Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."

Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"

Dick: "The what-"

Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"

The Table: "..."

Steph: "WHAT-"

Dick: "You do-?!"

Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"

Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"

Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"

Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"

Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"

Dick: "...

OHHHHHH-"

Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"

Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"

Tim: "I'm trans."

Jason: "...That's-

Yeah

Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."

Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"

[acid-ixx]

ch.1: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

if there was one thing you hated more than the crime-filled streets of gotham, it would be empty promises.

when was the last time they attended your birthday? or your school ceremonies? or any special event that meant for you to be the center of attention?

plot twist, there was no last time, or a time before that or any day that they were there for you.

not your eldest brother, dick, not your dead brother, jason, of course tim wouldn't be there for you, damian's absence is a given, not even your sisters would come, and most especially not your father, bruce wayne.

you never wrote wayne as your last name. in every test, it would always be your mother's last name. in every document that you had to fill, you would violently scratch in the name of your father, wishing it wasn't required at all so you wouldn't have to hang your head in shame everytime someone looks at you incredulously for having the bruce wayne as your father but never once appearing to be with you.

you can't recall a time you had called him your dad, or even considered him as one.

if you could count the times you have seen him in person, it wouldn't even fill ten fingers. even interviewers and paparazzi have more luck in coming across him than you would, his child.

it sucks, really, how despite having nearly sharing the same age as tim, you never once saw him outside of his room. you thought you would've been the closest to him, but the most you have seen him was when you were watching the news with the "new" robin popping up, or worse; when bruce would be seen guiding tim through the paparazzi and not you. alfred had to drag you away from the tv that day because you were already suffering through a panic attack just seeing those two act so close; ripping your hair out just from watching the news wasn't a good way to cope.

you remember being so jealous of him, of how bruce would always spend time with him and not you. it made you wonder, were you special enough? tim is so brilliant, you could admit. and you were, too, having enough comprehensibility as a child to find out they were vigilantes a year or two after living in the manor— but you weren't good enough like tim. you weren't cut out to be like a detective or a fighter.

it was no wonder why bruce chose them over you.

it came to you in the form of talking to tim that had you discovering that no one ever mentions your name inside the house, proving it to be true when tim had hesitated calling your name and even stuttered through pronouncing it. and then he left after finding you were of no use to help him. alfred had to stifle your sobbing after tim left the room, allowing you to cry on his chest whilst you sat beside him.

(name) wayne was so, so lonely.

you would've accepted their absence long ago, but you were a stupid child who needed care and reassurance because your mother left you for good at the age of five. you were too naive into thinking you would receive the same love from your family just like the other kids in elementary would. you were a child who expected too highly of your father, thinking that he would pick you up from school with that picture perfect photographed smile of his and kiss your forehead and tell you that you did a great job at school today.

it was your teachers who would be the one having to walk you up the stage whenever you achieved an award. alfred would be too busy sometimes to attend your school ceremonies because he had to assist bruce with missions. of course, you understood his priorities. after all, he tried his hardest to make you feel less lonely inside the mansion, it wasn't enough but he was there at least.

it was long ago that you stopped praying for your family to attend at least one of your birthdays.

it's ironic, really, for a child to prep and plan for their own celebration just to hope that a single member of their family to even walk by the kitchen and join them in on their already lonesome celebration.

too bad everybody only goes to the kitchen when alfred cooks for them. who would want to taste sadness in a sloppily made birthday cake, right? nobody, not even you would have the appetite to eat your cake with the knowledge that it was you who had to put all the effort to bake it because you didn't want alfred to feel obligated to. knowing nobody would celebrate birthdays with you, save for alfred, it was expected that you started to prefer cupcakes.

because then you wouldn't be scolded for making such a mess.

you never cooked family meals after the incident where nobody came and to not waste food, you had to bring in large containers to bring to school so you could celebrate your birthday there.

it was there that you find more solace in your small group of friends compared to the desolate rooms of the mansion. your family celebrates holidays together as a whole, but you never once attended after that one time where everybody had forgotten to get you a gift for christmas, save for alfred who gave you a bracelet (one that you cherished deeply). you only smiled weakly and hopelessly, sneaking into your room before the family dinner.

it was alfred again who bought you leftovers and sat on your bed for an hour to encourage you that there's still more christmas's to go.

you never believed what he said. not anymore.

there was a period of time where you hated them more than anything, blamed them for everything and became more rebellious, purposely failing tests, fighting your classmates and disrespecting teachers in hopes that for once your father would bat an eye on you. that only resulted in you being taken out of the school and being transferred into another, for a behavioral reform is what alfred stated to you when you annoyed him for answers.

damian started to bully you a bit more harder after that incident, calling you immature and childish, a weakling, an attention seeker. how someone at your age should've known better. you were convinced that he was relishing in the heartbroken glare you gave him, ignoring the way his eyes widened momentarily at your reaction before sneering and walking away.

alfred gently scolded you, but you were too choked up and instead you almost tripped running inside your bedroom, locking yourself in for what seems like hours.

you don't want to remember the immense breakdown you had that evening too, screaming on your blankets and destroying your things and hurting yourself because... because you had lost your old friends for nothing! your caring teachers, your academic progress, everything! every single thing for an ounce of attention! because he didn't have enough energy to come with you to the guidance counselor and he only had you transfer out so you wouldn't ruin the wayne's reputation!

you hate him, you hate bruce fucking wayne so much and you hate clinging onto their empty promises and sorry's to make it up for you. you hate how their promises were never even said directly to you, you hate how alfred was your only source of hope for a medium of communication.

you hate them all.

and worst of all, you hate yourself for drowning in hope. for wishing you were physically stronger so you could at least bond with them through training. for dreaming about a day where they could surprise you and told you they were just testing you and that you actually had worth inside this manor. for praying nightly that they'll smile at you like the heroes you see in tv rather than that of pity.

you wished there was a universe where gotham was safer, more protected with no criminals littering the streets. maybe then they would have more time to notice you crying every night, writing self destructive entries in your diary, sketching what would've been a happy family. they wouldn't have to wear their silly costumes to fight crime and instead would save you from your own demons.

if...

if you were brutally tortured and killed by the joker, or forced to choke on the fear toxin by the scarecrow— hell, even beaten to near death by some random goons; would they have given you a sliver of their love? would they finally look at you and save you from yourself?

because despite your resentment, you would never lie and say you didn't feel blessed that you were thrown to a family of talented individuals.

your drawings of a complete and happy family holding hands together and a diary filled with rants and fantasies of spending time with them proved just that.

you were blessed with them yet cursed at the same time to never reach the same level to be even considered part of their lives.

you were hopeless. you never amounted to anything. you were just, you.

thirteen years have passed by then, and in those years you were proud to say your development as a person, albeit slow, transformed you from a child that succumbed to neglect to an independent person who managed to maintain a comfortable circle of friends, a scholarship for a college far away from gotham, and an apartment of your own (you were a bit in debt due to having to pay for your own because no way in hell would you ask for your father for financial support).

allowance was scarce, your food supplies weren't infinite compared to back when you were living at the wayne manor, and you weren't greeted to michelin star restaurant meals cooked by alfred— but you were content, and that was enough.

though content translated to nightly breakdowns whilst finishing projects or writing essays, the point still stands! at least you had celebrated your eighteenth birthday with drunk smiles and your friends spoiling you to death when you had opened up about your first lonely years of life. everything was going well for you, truly.

you were so, so happy for the nice turn of events. and you wouldn't have made it so far if you hadn't slapped yourself out of the delusion that they actually cared for you.

look at you now! independent and with a life of your own! you'd give yourself a pat in the back.

you hadn't blocked them at all, but their contacts were empty (save for a few desperate messages that date back years ago) and you were fine with that. it's not like tim or bruce or barbara considered you important enough to be stalked. hah, as if!

alfred communicates with you time to time, reminding you to eat a complete meal rather than those one dollar priced noodles that tasted like pure salt. he told you he misses you a lot, you and your annoying, daily rants about life and school. he misses your awkward smile and when you would help him cook whenever the others aren't around. he misses it when you imitate his posh accent when you taste test his food and give commentary about it.

you miss him, too. growing up, you realized just how much effort alfred would exert just to spend a lot of his time on you.

now, he told you that you are still welcome to the manor whenever, and how he cleans your room weekly in case you'll visit him.

whenever you audio call with him, you'd tear up just a bit at the realization that alfred was more of a father figure than your own biological father. because he at least attended your graduation to make up for the other times he was unable to join you.

what's even better was that he gifted you something you had always wanted for your birthday. despite it being delivered to your door rather than him giving it to you face to face (since you had refused to give him your location and him respecting that decision at least), the heartfelt letter he left you was more than enough to let you cling onto pieces of your past. after all, it was him who greeted you by the door when you were first introduced into the family, bruce being too busy with paperwork that day when you were a measly five year old.

you had started to teasingly call him 'alfie' and a few more nickname after that, which results with a chuckle over the phone every time you had come up with a cheesy name for him whenever you get a wee bit irritated at his own way of making fun of you.

if only this was your life years ago, then maybe you wouldn't have been jealous of all your other friends and pushed them away that day, maybe you would learn that sometimes, family comes in the form of the people outside of your house rather than inside.

that reminds you, maybe you should reconnect with your old friends back in elementary and apologized for your sudden explosive behavior.

you were laying on your bed, phone in hand and opened your inst*gram app to stalk through the names you could remember. well... that was what you should've done, if not for the fact that a notification popped up the very moment you pressed on the search bar and you had accidentally opened a chat with your oldest brother, dick.

you would've ignored the desperate messages you have sent him from the past which all varied from inviting him to eat dinner with you or to at least join you to play in an arcade or anything to convince him to talk to you, all of which were unseen, if not for the fact that it was him who sent you a sudden "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" message, alongside a few more replies that spammed through your phone...

oh!

... that was enough to make you sit up and want to hurl.

dick grayson was a man of many talents. the mature eldest child, the ideal good leader despite his anger issues from time to time, and the same guy who set the standards high for the future robins. he is bruce's greatest achievement.

it was safe to say that if not for the support of many, then he would've suffered so many falls and would've never been strong enough to stand up despite the pain and continue his fights. nightwing was what many superheroes strive to be, an image of light in a grove of darkness such as gotham.

so why was it that he felt like he has failed so deeply right now?

inside your room, dick stands with furrowed brows. it felt too clean to look used. your furniture was polished and look untouched, the lights were too bright and the windows were bolted shut. there were no signs of life other than the notebooks and sketchbooks that were neatly tucked on the middle of the bed and the trinkets that scatter through your desk.

dick stalks through the room, careful to not make a noise as he walks over to the closet, opening it and finding nothing.

he bites his lips at the implication that this was probably the second time he visited your room and how it was also the longest time he remained here. compared to his other siblings, you were the one he noticed the least and... now he feels bad for dismissing you.

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago?

damn it, he was way too focused on his mission that night and ended up ditching and forgetting you! oh god, dick facepalmed and clenched his teeth, seething in some air because no fucking way did he actually remember to feed damian's dog, titus, the same day but forgot to take you out for an important event...

it occurred to him that that was the same day you scored a perfect on "the hardest test of my life!" you had bragged to him awkwardly when he wasn't listening nor looking and you, wanting to celebrate what was a small achievement for dick, chose him to spend time with you!

dick had to carefully breath through his mouth then gulp down the shame he feels right now. he- he has no time to focus on the past but rather the present. he has to find out why the hell is your room so lifeless, yeah... then he'll make it up to you today, definitely.

huh?

is it just him, but why does the room seem so small? it looked like it was meant to be for a kid. clearly, there wasn't enough space for a growing individual like you... did bruce not provide you with a bigger bedroom? ah, dick would definitely tell bruce to relocate you to a bigger room, the current one is too small for even a dog in a manor to sleep in.

dick doesn't want to admit it at all, but... he hasn't seen you for the past few months, or not all, really. sure, he had only recently visited the manor since he's bludhaven's vigilante now, but even through his time in gotham he had never seen you other than the times you pulled his sleeves from back when you were a child.

back when you were a child.

how old are you now? you were so small back then, innocent too. he can recall your curious eyes, your chubby cheeks and the way you stutter through your words as you try to talk to him.

you were significantly younger than jason, and was adopted a week before tim was introduced to the family. he remembers you peeking through alfred's back, gleaming with curiousity and whispering to the butler if it was really the dick grayson. he smiled fondly at your dumbfounded expression, the way your mouth shaped into an "ohh," when he was the one who answered that, yes, it was him. then you whispered again if you can take have an autograph from him, to which he chuckled and told alfred that he'll help accompany you to your room.

when your five year old body tried to waddle closer to his body for an ounce of warmth when he had been guiding you up the stairs, that was also the first time he called you baby bird, with the way you coddled him so closely. his hands find itself patting your head, ruffling your hair and grinning as you both make your path through the halls.

he comes to immediately regret leaving you alone after he had introduced you to your room, remembering his duties as a vigilante than that of a brother.

but despite his early memories of you, he wants to see his baby sibling all grown up now.

had it really been years?

when was the last time you ever had a full-on conversation with him?

was there even a time that he had approached you by himself?

he had always called you baby bird after the first time you meet because of the age gap you two shared. the rare times he acknowledges you, you gave him that look filled with such adoration, like you were proud of him for being your older brother. why did he not notice you?

oh, his baby bird...

dick gulped, trying to ease his shivering by sitting on your neatly folded blankets and taking a worn diary in his hand, one at the bottom stack of books. well, if it was a personal diary then maybe you would've hidden it better, right? he figures since it was all placed on the center of the bed like a piece of treasure that... it would be alright to take just a glimpse.

to confirm if you still see him as your favorite brother.

dick's heartbeat spiked, hoping your entries would be filled with, he doesn't know, anything that didn't implicate some sort of hatred for the family, for him. hoping that despite his lack of attention towards you, that there would still be a spark of love for him. if what he thinks was actually true then... he doesn't know what to do with himself.

he flips through the first page, noting how it was bulkier than the others. the paper was filled with glittery decorations, sequence beads and cheap stickers sparkling at every angle the light hits. it was meant to be a design for the 'front cover' of the notebook, colors blended in a cacophony of rainbows and butterflies and flowers beyond the messy calligraphy that merely states "(name)'s diary!"

dick stifles a grin just from skimming through at the amount of mistakes and erasures, clearly written by the the younger version of you; naive to the world and its cruelty. he commends your creativity, his eyes softening at the few doodles that were written on the corners of the pages.

you're just too adorable for your own good, so much so that the thumping in dick's heart beats louder and louder, ears wringing uncomfortable inside your unventilated bedroom. but he just couldn't rip his eyes away from the diary, daydreaming about how proud you must've been when designing your own diary. he could picture your wide eyes, shy and harmless, and your feet kicking back and forth whilst you decorate your stuff.

everything was what he expected it to be on the first few pages of the diary. all your little rants about your daily life, your eargerness to meet your entire family from your father's side, and the hurt you experienced from your mother's sudden abandonment.

he would've skipped through another diary, one that lacked design and color, save for the name plastered on the front, if not for the grim undertones at every end of your entries despite the child-like manner it was written in.

it all started with "i wish to see my father soon and my big brother dick again!", "alfred told me my father can't come to the parent-teacher conference, he says he's in a veryyy important meeting :( but alfred would come!", "dick told me he can't help me with my science project but he promise he'll help me with something else later!" which halfway through the diary, your style fluctuates and lesser effort was exhausted on the writing.

one entry in particular, written on the last page of your diary, shattered a sliver of hope within dick, his breathing momentarily ceased from reading through your sentences; uncharacteristic of you, too mature for someone at the age of ten to write.

"XX/XX/XXXX.

dear diary, it's my tenth birthday today. i celebrated with my friends at school. they told me i always look down whenever it's my birthday. they think that bruce would throw a fancy celebration for me. i tried to hide my laughter from them. it's a really funny joke. i haven't seen him for months. i told dick that he was invited but i don't think he remembers it's my birthday today. alfred told me to come out of my room, he said he cooked my favorite dinner, that he's sorry he got my present late, but i don't want get out of my room. i heard dick is gonna watch a movie with tim later. i don't feel so good, my chest hurts, but i don't want to get out right now.

i'll eat the cupcake tomorrow."

it had been nearly two hours since dick had sat on your bed, eyes dilating whilst reading through your first diary. the cold season had already pricked his skin, but his entire body felt so unnaturally warm, a warmth that scorches him, searing deep into flesh. a lump had form in his throat, accompanying the hellish throbbing of his heart.

"fuck..." he brought his fingers to his head, carefully massaging his forehead but it relieves nothing. he wants to see you right now— he needs to talk to you. god, he has to apologize, he needs to see what you look like right now, needs to know if you're alright.

you're clearly not.

he has to oppress the urge to punch the walls, reminding himself that it's your room he's in and if he damages your already delicate property, then he's proving himself worse than he already is.

he rushes to grab another diary, the one at the top of the pile, skipping to the end of the page.

nothing. all the entries were months ago, all written in vague detail like you were starting to hide secrets. his teeth grinds against each other, frustration seeping through his veins.

he needs to— shit, he needs to find you right now. he needs to find his baby bird and make up for the all bullshit him and his family had done. if you were gone for months, even years; he doesn't even want to think about it.

but how?!

there were no signs of you. anything written your diary, your drawings, the trinkets on your bedside table— they signal no clues whatsoever, all dating back to months, even years. it's not possible at all, for nobody to notice your disappearance. dick would've noticed sooner. he should've noticed sooner. oh, he doesn't even want to think about the dangers that await you outside the mansion. with how naive you were about the outside world, you wouldn't last at all.

his baby bird wouldn't survive gotham's streets, especially not when winter was nearing.

think, grayson, think...

his phone!

he immediately reaches into his pockets to grab his phone, clammy fingers swifly encoding his password and opening his contacts.

your number was the quickest to find, it was the only one without an icon of you and an endearing nickname. he makes a mental note to change that soon and replaced your default name to your nickname.

then, without hesitation, he typed, "hey baby bird!!! <333 long time no see! how are you?!" sending the message without rereading, foot tapping impatiently against the floor as he scrolls through all your previous messages.

messages that he should've replied to with the same level of enthusiasm as you. skimming through the past, unseen texts as your motivation began to dwindle the further he refused to reply back. he promises he'll never make you feel invisible again.

seconds feel like hours for him, as he blows raspberries to pass the time, too concentrated an ounce of a reply to even notice the entirely new presence inside the room.

it's alright to call you, yes? after all, dick just wanted to check in with his baby bird and see if you're doing swell and dandy and... safe without him...!

his thumbs pressed on the call button before he could think through his actions, his other hand runs through his hair, sweat running down his forehead as if he had ran a marathon.

he waited, and waited, and waited until the call beeped and provided its automated response. he calls you again but the line immediately cuts off, he tries to spam you with more messages but they weren't delivered.

you blocked him.

fuck, he messed up big time. he needs to get to the batcave. he needs to find your fucking location before it's too late. dick needs to see you again before he loses it.

but before he could carefully place your sketchbooks back to its rightful place, he sees a silhouette at the corner of his eyes; short figure, arms crossed, and a sneer on his eyes already tells him who it was.

damian wayne.

he forgot to train with damian today.

but it doesn't matter, damian has to see it for himself— what made dick so disheveled, so delirious. damian has to finally see just how much of a wonderful sibling you are.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this was 4,600+ words and it drained the energy out of me. it was supposed to be posted tomorrow but i was too motivated !! i'm also quite proud of this chapter. it was a pain characterizing dick grayson and the reader. i really hope this is as good as the prequel because it's 3am right now and writing dick's part was a pain in the ass ^^' as always, please do comment or send asks if you like it for quicker updates!!!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @alishii, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @deadinside-09, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa (shoutout to her specifically because i got motivated from their comment!)

[writerfromthestars]

DPXDC PROMPT : ALFRED IS IMMORTAL

Alright. Don't get me wrong, I love au's where John Constantine is like "soul tax evader supreme", but hear me out.

Alfred.

Alfred, Alfred Pennyworth. Who just doesn't die. The guy's immortal. The reason for this is that Alfred is awesome, so anytime he dies, whether it be from old age or a bullet or a world-wide catastrophe, he looks Death straight in the eyes and tells them that he will die when the day comes that no one needs him anymore, and not a second before, and then he just kinda pops back to life. Because let's face it, the batfam would fall to pieces without him.

So, Alfred Pennyworth has basically just been cheating death for centuries, by this point.

Needless to say, Death is none too pleased. Finally, Death goes to Phantom, the new king, who is much more reasonable than Pariah Dark was and who agrees to actually help.

Clockwork helps Danny set up a portal and he zaps into existence in the middle of a Wayne movie night. The bats are all prepared to fight this mysterious weirdo, but Danny ignores them and turns to Alfred, who he then begins lecturing about ghostly tax evasion and how defying death isn't a good thing, so he needs to file paperwork through the proper channels to stay as an immortal almost-God.

Alfred is chill, he plays cards with Clockwork once when he dies, so he knew this was coming, but the batfamily thinks that this mysterious entity is going to kill Alfred, so they're all panicking, trying to think of ways to avoid this horrible future. Alfred calmly listens to Danny, then he interjects.

"Sir, are you aware of the fact that there is a revenant on earth? One who is most certainly under threat of more paperwork than I, seeing as he has been using the Lazarus Pits to revive himself for millennia. I, however, have only been alive for a few hundred years, so I should think that he is a bigger priority. "

Danny glances over at Jason, doubtful. "He doesn't look several millennia old, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Certainly not, seeing as Master Jason is not. Besides, his Undeath License was filed. I have a copy of it if you need to see it, your Majesty?" Alfred answers, demure as always.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, sir."

Alfred leaves and returns, moments later with a light green glowing piece of paper. he hands it over to Danny, who examines it.

"Seems legitimate. I assume you filed it during one of your many encounters with Death?"

"Indeed. I have it on good authority, however, that the other revenant, a man by the name of Ra's Al Ghul, has not renewed his License in at least the last half millennia, most likely longer."

Danny sighs. "Where can I find him."

"Nanda Parbat. The signature is impossible to miss."

"Alright, Mr. Pennyworth. I will return once he is dealt with, be it by filing his paperwork or returning him to the Infinite Realms."

"Very well. I will be ready." Alfred answers.

Danny opens a portal to the area around Nanda Parbat and then another, which plops him down right in front of the Demon's Head himself, in a strategy meeting with his daughter and several commanders.

They all raise their weapons, but he just basically grabs Ra's by the ear and tugs him through a Lazarus Green portal, lecturing him about tax evasion and paperwork and bureaucracy the whole time. The League is thrown into uproar, and Ra's is set down in a room with all his overdue paperwork from the past few thousand years. He feels a little bit like crying; if he had known immortality meant this much paperwork, he would've just died, honestly.

Meanwhile, in Wayne Manor, everyone is crying, because they think Alfred is going to die, Jason is confused about the whole revenant Undeath Certificate thing, Bruce is trying to make contingency plans, Tim is contacting the Justice League, and Alfred is planning out his defense and going through every ghostly law loophole he can think of because if he leaves these emotionally constipated crime-fighting vigilantes, he knows that the house that Martha so loved will go up in flames within a month.

Eventually, Danny comes to get Alfred for his ghostly court trial/hearing or whatever, and Alfred says goodbye to Bruce and everyone, goes to the Infinite Realms. Clockwork is on his side, and Alfred ends up winning the court case, on the condition that now that the has an Undeath License, he actually renew it every twenty years, like he's supposed to.

A week later, Alfred returns, crashes his own funeral, and explains that no, he will not be dying anytime soon.

Two weeks after Alfred's return, Constantine shows up at the manor basically begging to learn how the hell he managed to avoid death, and not only that, win a damn court case against them.

[arrowheadedbitch]

Jason and Tim are arguing, Jason brings up how Tim stole his mantle

Tim, yelling: I did what I was supposed to do!! I got an adult! It's not my fault the adult wouldn't help! I had to take matters into my own hands, I will not be shamed for that! If you want to be mad at someone? Don't be mad at me. Or Bruce. Or Alfred. You wanna be mad at someone? Be mad at Dick Grayson, because when I saw that Batman was falling apart at the seams, I went straight to him! I asked him to help, when Batman was going to tear Gotham apart, piece by piece, in his grief, I BEGGED Dick to help, and he said no, so I had to step up because otherwise no one would.

Jason, not angry anymore: Wh- Tim, you were, you were 13! It wasn't your job to fix a grown man, you didn't have to be the one to save him...

Tim: Then why didn't anyone help!!

Jason: Tim...

Tim: why didn't anyone help?

[lav-ghost]

Danny was Bruce's Nanny

Danny used to be Bruce Wayne's nanny. He was looking for a job and found that Alfred needed somebody to look after Bruce while he did other things (Cleaning, cooking, getting groceries, etc.) He decided to take up the job, even though everyone had quit. But here's the thing, Bruce nor Alfred knows he's half-dead (Alfred would find out later, he's Alfred after all)

Later on, when Bruce grows up and adopts all his kids, non knowing that he had a nanny and was a troublemaker, he makes a comment about having one when he was younger. He was trying to convince his children that it wouldn't hurt to have one.

"Alfred can't always look after you. Dick and Jason are in their 20's and don't need a nanny and besides, Nannies aren't bad or weak, I had one myself after all." Bruce didn't know that this would lead to questions about who they were, what they were like, and where they lived(Tim and the others wanted to do a background check, even though they weren't there when he did have one.)

Alfred cuts in to say that his nanny was a miracle worker and always had Bruce asleep by the time he needed to be. "He always made breakfast and had Bruce up when he needed to go to school. He even helped around the manor."

On the other side of Gotham. Danny was visiting since he hadn't been around in a few years and wanted to see how things were going. Color him surprised when he finds out the little boy he nannied when he was younger is a grown man with children! Well, it had been a while since he had last seen Bruce and Alfred.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Virgin! Jason Todd

Virgin! Jason Todd who is absolutely whipped as soon as he meets you. Im talking stuttering, fumbling over himself, even a slight blush, dare I say. He just doesn't know what to do with himself in the presence of somebody so blessed with a goddess' beauty.

Virgin! Jason Todd who tries to act tough anyway (because, in all honesty, he is literally a murderer and not just some soft guy anymore.) And fails horribly. Its endearing to see him try, though... With those strong arms that could either snap you in half within moments or hold you throughout the night.

Virgin! Jason Todd who's constantly needy for you, both in an intimate sense and just for affection in general. In fact, you don't think that there's ever an extended period of time where his hands aren't on you in one way or another.

Virgin! Jason Todd who's so into dry humping that it's an every other days occurance. Laying down on the couch or bed cuddling? His hard dick is pressing right up against your clit through both his and your shorts. Doing yoga because your back is sore from work or cooking dinner when he gets home late? He's lightly thrusting onto your plump ass as soon as he gets his hands on you.

Virgin! Jason Todd who initiates things himself for the first time, starting with you simply sitting on his lap while watching a movie. Then, slowly, he starts kissing down your neck with warm lips and even warmer breaths while moving you to straddle his thighs. You can already feel him getting a bit hard from this alone.

Virgin! Jason Todd who gets so into the light kisses he oh so graciously presses against your lips that they end up turning into a heavy make out session. His tongue and yours are tangling together in such a sinful and addicting way that its hard to get enough.

Virgin! Jason Todd who slowly grasps at your hips to grind you at a torturous pace on his toned thigh. The slight amount of friction is divine after getting so worked up over a few kisses, but it's not long until you're humping his thigh like a bitch in heat as you normally do.

Virgin! Jason Todd who's never been afraid to eat you out, and he'll be damned if he doesn't tonight, too. You are his favorite meal, snack, and dessert, after all.

"Come on, gorgeous... You know the drill." He whispers in that deep, gravelly voice from between your legs as you close them, desperately wanting to do something for him in return. "Nuh uh... Let me eat that pretty pussy of yours before anything else, sweetness." And eat he does.

Virgin! Jason Todd who gets off on your pleasure. Every time you moan or squirm yourself closer to his face as he laps at your aching hole and bundle of nerves, he grinds himself right into the mattress or side of the couch.

Virgin! Jason Todd who wants you to ride him for your first time together so he can bury his face into your chest and hold you as close as possible. And because he's scared of going at a pace that you won't like, but after how many orgasms he's pulled out of you just by giving you head, you're sure you wouldn't mind whatever makes him happy.

Virgin! Jason Todd who has to actually stop himself from blowing his load just as you put his girthy tip in. He just cant help it... Your tight, warm, and soaked walls fluttering around him is just too heavenly.

"Fuck... Stay right there, sweetheart. Right there. Please." His voice is strained with his effort and slightly muffled as he buries his face into your chest.

Virgin! Jason Todd who is in pure bliss as soon as you start moving, even at such a slow pace to begin with while your creamy walls get used to the stretch of his beautiful, leaking cock.

Virgin! Jason Todd who never realized how much of a moaner he was until he got to have his first time with you. Sure, he's gotten himself off humping your ass or the mattress while he ate you out, but this was on a whole other level.

"Fuckkk..." His head is thrown back against the pillows or headrest of the couch as his hands grasp your ever moving hips. "Can't take much more of this, pretty girl." Jason is almost whining at this point, the sound of his skin slapping against yours joining the obscene sounds in the air of his apartment. "Gonna.. Im gonna-"

Virgin! Jason Todd who cuts himself off with such a gorgeous moan and whine as he cums that it has you going right alongside him. The large, calloused hands on your hips only tighten as you feel his cock fill you up with thick, warm, pearly ropes of cum.

Virgin! Jason Todd who can only whisper praises and words of love for the first couple of minutes coming down from his intense high.

"Fuck... Fucking love you, y'know that?" His chest is still heaving with every panting breath he takes. "Milking me dry with that pretty pussy..."

Virgin! Jason Todd who makes aftercare a top priority very early on, even though he's just barely gaining his own bearings.

"I love you, pretty girl... So much." He presses kisses along your sore and achy thighs as the cool, damp washcloth brushes over your most sensitive and overstimulated parts.

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

Masterlist

[xan-izme]

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Prologue

Part 1

Your mother was a beautiful kind and dangerous woman. In short. She was a Falcone. And for young Bruce, being with her was a thrill. Being Batman gave him a thrill, but your mother was a different kind of thrill.

Till she got pregnant. And the thrill was gone.

Your mother kept you of course. Counting the days till she gets to hold you in her arms. And when she finally got to hold you, to feel you close and hear your sweet little voice. The rest of the Falcone men decided that your mother wasn't ready to take care of you. So, they forced you out of her arms and sent you to Bruce.

Bruce held you once. And immediately passed you to Alfred. He was too young to become a father. (Never mind the fact he was already acting as a father to two boys)

He didn't have time to play daddy. Deep down Bruce did come to care for you over the years and attempted to try and hold you. But then Jason died, Dick distanced himself. Holding you, an innocent little thing, felt wrong.

When you were eight. You had tantrums. Night terrors. terribly scared of the dark. Thunderstorms especially. Gotham famous for its long dark nights and loud thunderstorms. Bruce, too busy with his new sidekick, Tim. Didn't have time to comfort you. No matter how heartbreaking your scrams for him were. Crying for him, so he can save you from whatever nightmare you have woken from.

But only Alfred occasionally Dick, would come and save you.

Bruce would give you toys, new dresses as a form of apology. He wouldn't give it to you directly. But have Alfred give it to you or leave it in your room when asleep. But no matter how many new toys he gives you. Those nightmares just never stopped.

Due to the neglect. Your mother was able to meet with you secretly. As years passed, she was able to steal you away when Alfred wasn't hovering around you. Take you to shop and give you whatever you wanted. Holding you in her arms and not wanting to let go.

Slowly, your mother was gaining the favor of some of the Falcones. To let her have you back. To welcome you back into the Falcone family. Once she gets the whole family to agree. She can make a case of child neglect against Bruce Wayne and take her sweet Babygirl back.

But when you were ten. Your powers began to kick in. You told Bruce, hoping your father would help you. Help you understand. Bruce, told you to keep it a secret. And to tell no one else.

Having a kid who was a meta was the last thing he needed at the moment. Trying to re-connect with Jason who still had deep hate for him instead focusing on his first-born child who was struggling to understand.

You felt like a freak.

And it wasn't long till you lost control of your powers. To keep it short. You accidently killed a few other kids with your powers. It was an accident. You swore. You see you would have just been left off. Your a kid. It was an accident. But most of all your a Wayne. But one of the kids you killed was a Falcone.

And Bruce couldn't risk you getting killed. He cared about you. Just not as much as he should. So, to avoid the wrath of the Falcone's. Bruce had to claim you were mentally ill. Sending you to Arkham. Only for a few months. That's what he said to you. That's what he promised.

You did your six months in Arkham. Six months turned to eight. Eight months turned to ten. Ten months turned to two years. Then finally, you were taken out from your cell. Lead by two prison guards. They said you had a visitor. You assumed it was another reporter. But was proven wrong when you see Bruce on the other side of the thick glass. You were shocked but happy to see your father.

"Daddy." You spoke softly as you slowly smile, putting your hand on the glass. Bruce hesitates to put his hand on the glass, once he does, he focused back to you. Your eyes stared at him with so much love and hope.

". . . Your case. . . the court decided you're, too unstable to attend court, so. . ." Bruce didn't look at you as he spoke. So, he couldn't see the smile on your face fade. Confusion taking over.

"But. . . I did my six months. . . I-I've been here for a year! Daddy, please I didn't do it on purpose!" You were on the edge of crying.

"I promise. I'll get you out of here as soon as I can." Bruce wanted to try and console you. But that was harder due to the glass between you two. He reaches out his hand to the glass once more. But the loud buzz that queued it was time for you to get back to your cell.

"Please Daddy don't let them take me!" You cried, putting both hands on the glass. You were in full despair. Bruce didn't know what to do. He can take the risk from the Falcones and get you out with a snap of his fingers. Or he can make it easy for everyone but you and wait till you serve your time.

". . . I'm sorry" Bruce can see you falling deeper and deeper into dispare.

Guards burst from the doors and had to forcefully take you away.

"No- No! Daddy please! DADDY!" Your screamed louder as the guards took you away, reaching out to Bruce who just stood there. And did nothing. As always.

Seven years later.

No one ever visited you again. Well, no one from the Waynes. But your mother visited you every week. Her visits where the only reason you kept saine.

Arkham isn't all fun and games. Obviously. You were immitted into Arkham's fucked version of rehabilitation. You started hearing things after your first month in Arkham.

. . .

You sent letters almost every day to the Wayne manor. But never got any back. None from Bruce. None from Dick. You and Tim weren't close. So, you didn't expect anything from him. Alfred prefers to call you. Wanting to hear your voice to make sure you were not lying to him when he asks of your wellbeing.

You stopped sending letters to Bruce a few months ago. Not like he'll respond anyway. You don't need Bruce. You have your mother. And she's all you'll need. She's your world now, your reason to keep living this pointless life. And once you're out, Mama promised to give you a big hug. Which you so desperately needed.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢. . . 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎?"