#he sends a message to Nightwing

[enigmaris]

Superboy Prime punched through the multiverse. This, of course, defeated the enemy he was fighting that was trying to destroy the world, but multidimensional punches dont just affect the mortal plane.

The ghost zone, the infinite realms, felt the punch like a nuclear blast. Haunts destroyed, ghosts displaced through time and space. It was chaos.

Whats worse? Danny's friend is missing.

Danny had met Robin in the GZ during one of his adventures, the two dead teen vigilantes took to each other like ducks to water. Danny helped Robin learn about being a ghost and Robin taught Danny life skills such as: throwing a punch, lockpicking, and how not to fall for obvious traps that villians set up.

Even Sam and Tucker had met Robin, although since Robin was such a new ghost he wasnt strong enough to leave the zone for long. Young ghosts (halfas aside) needed to spend the first decade or two in the zone before they were stable enough to go back to the mortal side. Danny had offered to fly to gotham with a message for batman, but robin had declined.

Batman and he had had a fight before he died, the guy probably didnt want to see or hear about the robin that failed after all.

Robin had forbidden Danny and the others from looking into Gotham.

Danny would not be in Gotham if his friend hadn't disappeared after the sonic attack that had rocked the ghost zone. He had no idea who Robin had been under the mask. Even in death, his friend had not shared his secret identity. But Danny needed to find his friend before he destabilized into ectoplasmic goop.

So now Danny has to find Batman, convince the guy that ghosts are real and that his adopted son Robin is a ghost. He manages to find the bat signal on top of the GCPD and hails the hero.

Who has a new robin with him.

It hadnt even been a year!!! Batman had replaced his friend with a younger model, this one was wearing pants instead of shorts!! What the hell!!!

Danny is so offended that if he didn't need Batman's help to save Robin, he would so punch the guy in the face. Multiple times.

Danny explains the problem to Batman and FAKE Robin all while keeping his cool.

"His ghost probably ended up near his grave. Just get me to the cemetery, if he's there, i can find him and save him before he fades forever."

Batman agrees.

Internally, Bruce is bluescreening. His mind is just thinking: Jason. Jason. Jason. Jason! Over and over again. He needed to get to his son. Right now.

Tim wasn't expecting his first mission as Robin to go like this, he had just finished his training, but nothing he had trained for prepared him for a ghost that told him that he met Jason while fighting a magic ghost dragon.

When all three get to the cemetary, they find Jason Todd's grave empty. A hole in the grass, just wide enough for a person to crawl through. The casket has a hole punched through it. Parts of the suit Jason was buried in were torn off and caught on splinters of the wood.

"I am gonna be honest. I did not know zombies were a thing." said the ghost.

With that, all hell breaks loose in Gotham.

[nightingale-prompts]

Nightwing gets a sidekick introducing: "Batboy"

Continuation of this post: "Danny has Bat wings"

|Next|

Dick tries to tell himself that he's better then Bruce. He's not going around taking young orphaned boys with unique abilities willy-nilly. No, he very careful. Besides this is first- well second sidekick.

He's doing a public service anyways. You can't have a kid with giant bat wings just falling from buildings. If Nightwing hadn't stepped in to stop those goons trying to catch the kid and sell him then who knows what would have happened. What if they tried to cut off his wings and turn the boy into a bloody trophy for the Bats?

There are many villains in Bludhaven who'd take the boy out or take him in. Dick already had a sinking feeling that Heartless would try his hand at killing the kid after all he targets the weak and helpless like a coward.

It was easy enough to convince the boy to be his friend. Dick did have natural charm and charisma after all. All it took was a meal from batburger and a fruit cup to get the kid to open up.

Danny (apparently his family gave him a normal name) didn't live with his family anymore due to ideological differences. That difference was that they thought he shouldn't exist anymore and wanted to turn him into an experiment. Poor kid didn't even get to finish his freshman year of school before he had to leave. He was a small town vigilante for a few months before the incident.

Dick saw an opportunity but was subtle about it. He invited the kid to live with him until he got his education. Its also totally ethical because the kid was a vigilante already.

Everything kind of went by quickly. Dick had done everything possible to hide Danny until he could come up with a plan of how to tell everyone.

True Dick didn't "need" a sidekick but come on, look at him! He's a boy with bat wings! Dick could put a little cowl on him and dress him up like Batman. I mean he's not a dog but it would be funny. The irony there, the bird-themed hero now had a bat-themed sidekick. That is the universe's way of sending a message.

After training Danny Dick learned that the kid had an endless supply of energy and ADHD that rivaled his own at that age. The kid also couldn't fly, it was actually closer to gliding which was still useful but he kind of looked like a flying squirrel when he jumped off ledges.

The term issue with taking Danny in was that Dick was still a Wayne and while he could hide the kid while he was swinging through Bludhaven, Dick Grayson could not.

Danny could hide his wings like they weren't even there whenever he wanted to look human. Which was a start, next he needed a new identity. One that wouldn't tip anyone off.

Dick needed to pull some strings without alerting Barbara or Tim. A new name was forged: "Daniel Nightingale" (Dick patted himself on the back for that one).

With that Dick was ready to let Danny out in the field. For the most part, Danny was as reliable as any Robin if not a bit crazy. Danny was way too charming for his own good but also completely feral. The public adored the domino-masked kid in his green and black costume. Danny didn't wear a cape because of his wings so he used them as a cloak.

When citizens saw them in public they'd offer the kid fruit cups and candies just to get close enough to see his wings. The people of Bludhaven were also excited to have their own version of Robin since Gotham had so many. Also, the kid was so marketable. Look at the way his wings flapped when he was excited.

Danny's or more specifically "Batboy's" presence would not go unnoticed.

Well, this can't end well.

Welp. Dick should have expected this. He couldn't even be upset. He doesn't regret anything that he's done.

Danny was still in bed, actually it was a hammock which was more comfortable for a bat. Dick wondered if he could sleep upside down. The kid was comfortable here and probably better off here than in Gotham. Once the adoption goes public however things will get complicated. Danny may end up Bludhaven's sweetheart or outcast. He'll probably end up fine...probably.

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce sends his kids little notes using carrier bats. It first started when Dick moved out and he wanted to talk to his son but didn't want to call and then have dick hang up on him or decline, didn't want to see his message be left on read, so he bought a little circus bat and taught it to fly to wherever Dick’s scent was (ie he would hang a piece of dicks clothing up at one end of the cave) and built him a nest built of dicks old bedsheets and then tied a little note to its foot, just a little question about how the weather is in Bludhaven and if hes getting enough sleep and alfred misses him, nothing that can be seen as overbearing or forcing himself into his life, and the little bat flies all the way to Bludhaven and hangs on Dicks window and Dick sees it and memories slam into him full force because bats are batman and robin and he cant, not yet. So he doesn't open the window. Ignores him. But the little bat is anything if not as stubborn as the man who trained him so he stays. And after two days Dick relents because the bat hasn't moved an inch and is probably hungry, so he brings him inside and then he sees the note for the first time and opens it and then he breaks and the tears flow because Bruce cares and bruce still wants him. And dick spends time with the little bat and takes it on missions as Nightwing because they’re both nocturnal and then finally, dick attaches a little note to the bats leg and he flies off to bruce. And bruce sees the little bat on his window and opens it, when he spots Dick standing just below, smiling faintly. “Hey b.” 

Bruce gets a bat from the cave ceiling for Babs almost immediately after her accident with Joker because he has responsibilities but he cant leave her alone so he sends her notes everyday and hopes the bat is a good enough companion and when she becomes oracle the bat serves as an exchange of information and contacts and bruce still uses him to check up on her and babs rolls her eyes everytime, but its fond

And so then when Jason comes bruce finds another little bat hanging in crime alley and uses her as a therapy animal after he dies and trains her the way he trained Dick’s but the bat doesn't have anyone to fly to and bruce tries not to cry when he sends it out with notes and it returns because it has no one to deliver to… until one day it doesn't come back. And bruce is afraid and confused and a week later the bat is back, a new note attached to her leg and bruce takes it and breaks down and he gets to talk to his son again. 

Tim already comes with his own bat because Nightwing has one, but the little girl imprints on Bruce right away and Tim pouts but he cant really be angry, not when Bruce sends his bat over to him almost daily while hes in the batcave or his room or the tower with reminders to eat and sleep and coupons for coffee

When Steph arrives Bruce hates himself for firing her but he just cant right now, but he stills gets a bat from the cave and sends it to her and apologizes because he cant bring himself to leave everything unspoken between them and Steph actually adores it and every so often she’ll send him a note and bruce knows hes forgiven

For Damian theres no need for a bat because he lives in the house with Bruce, but then they have Goliath and well… he serves as a messenger when no one else can get damian out of the training area

bruce has never named the bats, thinking that was for them alone to do and he didnt want to get too attached because theres always a chance he pushed too far and his kids wont send a message back, but one day all his kids were hanging out in the living room together and bruce had just come up to join them when he hears dick say "hey wheres b? the movie's about to start?" and jason chucks a piece of popcorn in his mouth and goes "idk, ill send him a note." but tim goes "no i will!" and all together they yell "ROBIN!!!" and all their bats come flying from the cave and fly to their specific masters and Bruce cant fight the tears and when every little bat flies towards him and delivers their note he walks out into the living room and gives them the biggest hug

[dollishmehrayan]

# HOW BATBOYS REACT TO YOU WEARING THEY'RE COLOR ── .✦ ( eg. nails, clothes, anything ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so I first did a small idea of this (here) and then I thought why not do it based off this anon (here) so yeahh, anyways I kinda fell so off course like genuinely I need to make more batboys content, tags: (batboys x reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick notices instantly. He’s hyper-aware of the blue.

“Wait, are those nails painted Nightwing blue? Babe, did you do that for me?” Cue the biggest grin you’ve ever seen.

Compliments you non-stop. He’s not subtle about how much he loves it.

“You’re really pulling off my color, you know. Almost makes me think you’re trying to steal my spotlight.”

Gets extra touchy holding your hand, brushing your hair back, etc. “You’re so cute I can’t even deal right now.”, “It’s just blue and black colored nails dick.”

If it’s a clothing piece, he’ll joke, “Matching outfits for day? Say the word, and we’ll be Gotham’s most fashionable duo.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason notices but plays it cool at first. “Nice color choice,” he says casually, though he’s dying and resurrecting inside.

If it’s your nails “You’re carrying my whole brand on those hands. Should I start paying you royalties?”

If it’s clothing, “Careful, babe, wearing red this well might make you a target and you might be mistaken for me.” But his smirk shows he’s all for it.

Low-key proud you’re repping his colors but doesn’t know how to express it well. Might just stare a little longer than usual.

Ends up pulling you closer while murmuring, “You look good in my color. Too good.”

Secretly starts thinking of ways to return the gesture, like wearing something in your favorite color. (He’s hoping it’s not absurd neon colors😭)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Blushes immediately. He’s not even subtle about it. “Wait… is that red because of… me?”

Obsesses over the details. “Did you match your nails to the exact shade of my suit? That’s, like, the coolest thing ever.”

Super flustered but also unbelievably touched. “I didn’t know you liked my colors that much.”

If it’s a clothing item, he’d be stunned for a moment before saying, “You look so… wow. You’re killing it.”

Gets a little shy but can’t stop glancing at you all day. Ends up fiddling with your hand if it’s your nails.

Might text you later "Thanks for making my day with that. You didn’t have to, but I really, really loved it.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Notices instantly but acts unimpressed. “Hmph. So you’re inspired by me today?”

Low-key thrilled but refuses to let you know. If it’s your nails, he might sarcastically say, “Subtle.” But he’s secretly staring.

If it’s clothing, “Green suits you. Perhaps you should wear it more often.” It’s his way of saying you look amazing.

After some time, he’ll let his walls down. “It’s not awful… You look better in my colors than I do.”

Will absolutely brag to Alfred or the others about it later. “Clearly, they understand quality when they see it.”

Ends up gifting you something else in his colors—maybe a scarf or bracelet—just to see you wear it again.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce notices immediately but doesn’t say much at first. He’ll just give you that classic Bruce Wayne smirk.

If it’s clothing, he’ll subtly comment, “You look good in black. Suits you.” (High praise from him)

If it’s nails, he’ll gently take your hand and examine them. “Interesting choice. Are you sending a message, or…?”

Deep down, he’s really touched but doesn’t know how to express it. Might make a dry joke like, “So you’re my sidekick now?”

Later, when you’re alone, he’d admit, “It’s nice seeing you in something that reminds me of… us.”

Low-key loves the idea of you wearing his colors often. He’d never say it outright, but his actions like buying you more black and yellow pieces make it clear (to a point half your dresses were either black or yellow even you’re gold jewelry has yellow hints and accents😭😭)

[kitkatscabinet]

BATS AND SUPES

Summary: Every bat needs their superperson.

Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd x fem! Reader

A/N: unedited. Kinda hate both these endings but it is what it is :)

DICK GRAYSON

Dick was going to be sick. Oh, he's going to throw up; what had he been thinking? Calling himself Nightwing, what were you going to think? Oh god, what if you hated it? What if you thought it was weird or creepy?

He's so distracted by his spiralling thoughts that he miscalculates the distance of his next jump, an undignified yelp leaving him as he begins to fall.

A pair of hands suddenly catches him by the biceps, and he's floating. Heart still thundering in his chest from his clumsy near miss, Dick looks up to see you smirking down at him.

"And to think I almost didn't come and visit you tonight." You teased, flying over to the closest rooftop and dropping him down, your eyes trailing over the blue emblem on his chest. "Heard you'd changed your name, trying to send me a message, pretty bird?"

Your smile was still as gorgeous as ever, eyes sparkling mischievously as Dick practically choked on his own tongue.

He could still remember the first time he'd witnessed you on the news. You'd been thrown into a building, the resulting explosion drowning out the screams of the nearby bystanders.

Even though you'd been strangers then, Dick had watched with his heart in his throat, worry flooding his veins for the girl who couldn't have been much older than him.

But you'd been unscathed, rising from the ashes like a Phoenix, skin unblemished by the roaring flames.

If he was being truthful with himself, he’d been enraptured with you ever since then. His first meeting with you was still a blur; he'd been a bundle of nerves and excitement, and you'd just smiled at him indulgently.

Honestly, he'd been smitten from the get-go.

You'd actually been the one to tell him the story of Nightwing after he'd compared that clip of you to a Phoenix. Naturally, you'd had no idea what that was, and once he'd described the mythical bird you'd lit up, launching into an explanation of Flamebird and Nightwing.

It had been his favourite nickname for you ever since, you were his Flamebird, and he'd always wanted to be your Nightwing.

"Rob, er, Nightwing?" Your grin has died a little, a modicum of concern shining in your eyes.

He can do this, he can be suave, sweep you off your feet like Bruce does for his dates.

“You… I… Go out with me!” He practically shouts in your face, mortification flooding his veins as you freeze like a deer in headlights, “please!” He softly tacks on.

You say his name so softly, hesitantly that Dick fears you’re about to reject him and his mouth opens without his permission once more. “Just hear me out! Ever since I first saw you, you’re all I can think about. You’re vibrant, passionate, lively, everything I want in a partner. I want to be your partner. Please, just give me a chance!”

You interrupt his nervous rambling, tugging him by the front of his new costume and pulling him into an enthusiastic kiss.

“I was beginning to think you’d never admit it.” You grinned at him, making him sputter.

“You… what? You knew?”

“Course I did, you’re as subtle as a car crash, Nightwing.” You whispered in his ear mischievously, flying quickly out of his grasp and leaving him flushed and reeling.

It’s not until you’ve disappeared from his sight that he startled back into the land of the living. “Wait!” He goes to chase after you only to nearly melt into the floor at the sight of Superman and Batman watching from the adjacent rooftop.

Clark was all smiles, practically vibrating in excitement. But it was Bruce’s smirk that he Dick wanting to evaporate, he could practically hear the man’s thoughts.

That was an embarrassing watch.

An arm wraps around his waist and Dick screams a little as you suddenly take off, clinging to you desperately as you laugh at him.

He’s going to get you back, he swears.

JASON TODD

You hated Gotham. It was a cesspit of suffering and grime, not to mention the near-constant rainfall. It wasn't enough to be miserable; it had to be miserable and wet.

Yet despite your immense dislike for the city, Kon had a nasty habit of dragging you along every time he visited Tim.

There'd been a time you were a frequent occupant of Wayne Manor, but you'd taken to avoiding it, the once-welcoming home having become too cold in the wake of Jason's death.

You tried to avoid Bruce too, he tried to hide it, but the man couldn't quite prevent his expression neutral whenever he saw you. His brows pinched and eyes glazed as they trail behind you, as if expecting to see Jason chasing after you.

You liked Tim well enough, but he wasn't your Robin and you weren't his super.

The manor was stifling, and you'd decided you'd rather brave the streets of Gotham than stay a second longer in that haunted house.

You float through the streets aimlessly, punching out the occasional thug in a misplaced attempt to expel some of your grief. Your sensitive ears leading you toward various ongoing crimes.

It's how you stumble across him. The Red Hood. You’d heard about him, mostly through Kon who’d heard through Tim, most things less than savoury. A murderer, a savage crime lord, a real pain in the ass.

You watch a little dispassionately as he shatters the kneecap of the unfortunate criminal stupid enough to get within grappling range.

Briefly, you wonder what they'd done to incite such brutality, but all of that quickly falls away as you listen to the thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat. A heartbeat you’d recognise in your sleep, one you’d thought forever gone from the world.

You pay no mind to the guns, or the audience of hoodlums, which you swiftly deal with in record time before your arms are wrapped tightly around the shoulders of one of Gotham’s most notorious crime lords.

He grunts at the impact, no doubt ready to fend off the sudden attacker only to freeze at the sound of your voice. “Jason.” You breathe softly, just for his ears, clutching him as if trying to prevent grains of sand from slipping through your fingers. “Oh, Jason.”

“How did you…” He rasps, arms dropping limply. Not that you had any doubt, but his reaction just further cements your conviction.

As loathe as you are to pull away, you do so, resting a palm over his chest. Your fingers curl over the wing of the red bat as you feel the reassuring pump of his heart against your hand.

He should pull away and put a stop to the unnervingly public display, but Jason's missed you. Since he'd regained enough of his senses to remember who you were, he'd missed you more than anything. And then you speak again, and there was nothing on the planet that could pull him away from your touch.

“Because. I know my Robin’s heart. I know your heart.”

His gloved hand reaches up to clasp over yours as the other removes his helmet, “It’s still yours.” He admits hoarsely, staring at you apprehensively as you take in the details of his aged and scarred face.

"What?" You whisper hesitantly, not daring to let yourself hope he meant what you thought.

“My heart. It still belongs to you. It always has.” You couldn't prevent the tears that slid down your cheeks if you wanted.

Jason thinks you break one of his ribs with how tightly you embrace him. It’s totally worth it.

[batsandbirdbrains]

Another one inspired by this anon who asked abt fics where Dick turns out to be younger than everyone thinks and the recs that were given:

Can be pretty much any setting I suppose, sometime when Nightwing is supposed to be 21. His friends all threw a big party for him. Dick Grayson had a special gala hosted by Bruce Wayne and everything. He’s been drinking (well, he’d been drinking illegally for years now with his friends, but that’s beside the point). Fact of the matter is, Dick is supposed to be 21 and he’s done things that wouldn’t otherwise be legal for someone under 21. He had a whole phase where he needed a cigarette every time he had to deal with Batman (Camels, the best cigarettes, either Blue or Gold, because Dick has Good Taste). That phase may have started before he turned 21 because Roy gave him one after a particularly bad fight with Bruce and then couldn’t say no whenever Dick asked for another.

But really, he hadn’t actually been eight when Bruce took him in. His parents and the circus changed his age on paper all the time so he’d meet the minimum age requirement to perform with them. In Gotham, that minimum age was eight.

In reality, Dick was five. They said he was short because he was a gymnast. It wasn’t totally unbelievable.

But then he forgot to tell Bruce about it until it was several months after living with him and being Robin, and Dick was scared that if he told him the truth, that he’d lied about his age, that Bruce wouldn’t want him anymore.

So he never told anyone. And he was able to convince Bruce to let him be homeschooled the first year or two, and Alfred was a rigorous teacher. He was all caught up with his supposed age group by the time he started at Gotham Academy. Then, he overcompensated so much that by the time we was supposed to be 13, it was recommended he go into high school instead of 8th grade.

It was a lot. It was a stressful time. Dick was a ten year old freshman and also Robin on the side. Bruce really shouldn’t have given him such shit for not wanting to go to college, he was so burned out. But he couldn’t tell him why. It was exhausting. Besides, Dick gets plenty of college credits by doing the random online class here and there. Dick actually managed to get a degree, he just never told anyone. One day, he’s going to whip it out during an argument with Bruce just to prove a point and spite him. He has it all planned out.

But now, there’s some magic shenanigans going on, and everyone on the planet over the age of 20 is separated from those under 20.

And Nightwing is with everyone under 20.

No one says anything at first, Nightwing is the obvious leader of those on his side of things, and they coordinate with the JL on the other side via Captain Marvel going back and forth to relay messages.

But as soon as the threat is dealt with and everything is back to normal, Batman is standing with one of his hands gripping Nightwing’s arm so tight, there isn’t a doubt in Dick’s mind that it’s going to leave a bruise.

“Hey B,” Nightwing says, chuckling nervously. “Good to have you back.”

“Tell me why you were on the side with everyone under 20.”

“Well, you see, that’s a funny story-”

“I’m not laughing, Nightwing.”

Everyone else is very clearly eavesdropping, they’re all obviously just as curious. And Dick feels like he’s under a microscope. He can feel himself starting to hyperventilate, and he pushes all the panic down and sends his most charming smile to Bruce.

“Can we talk about this at home?” he asks, his voice strained. “Please?”

Batman squeezes his arm a little tighter, then loosens his grip. But he keeps hold of Nightwing’s arm, then drags him to the transport room to take him back to the Batcave without saying a word.

“Please don’t be mad,” Dick begs once they’re back at the Batcave. “It wasn’t - I didn’t do it in purpose! I just, it always changed, everything was happening so fast, and then you brought me home, and you were really nice to me and Alfie was really nice to me and I didn’t want to leave and I was scared you wouldn’t want me anymore and-”

“Dick, Dick you need to breathe,” Bruce tells him, pushing the cowl down and guiding Dick to sit near the Batcomputer. He peels Dick’s mask off slowly, gently, then cups Dick’s cheek in his hand. “Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

“You have to promise you won’t hate me,” Dick begs, and he’s so mad that he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes, that his vision is starting to blur a little bit.

“I could never hate you.”

“Could’ve fooled me!”

Dick’s voice is strangled, scared. And it breaks Bruce’s heart. Sure, they’ve had their disagreements. And sure, Bruce may have told him to stay with his friends for a while so Bruce could cool down between arguments. But he loves Dick. He’s always loved Dick.

“Please just tell me what’s going on,” Bruce begs. “Because you have no idea how scared I was when I realized you weren’t with us. I thought I’d lost you, that the spell must have made some people disappear entirely. Please, Dickie, just tell me.”

Dick looks at him for a moment, both of them quiet. But then Dick is closing his eyes and tears are falling down his cheeks and he lets out a muffled sob as he holds a fist over his mouth.

“It’s not how I wanted you to find out,” he whines, not opening his eyes. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I didn’t know what to do!”

“You don’t have to know,” Bruce says gently. “Nothing in this family ever seems to go how we originally plan, does it?”

Bruce laughs a little, his smile feeling a little less forced when Dick lets out a wet huff of a laugh.

“They changed the documents all the time so I could perform,” Dick says quickly. “Different cities and countries have different rules, different age minimums. For insurance or something, I dunno. People changed their ages all the time in the circus, I thought it was normal.”

Bruce feels his stomach drop, but he moves to hold Dick’s hands and squeeze them tight.

“How old were you when you came to Gotham?”

“They told me I was eight in Gotham,” he says, but then he opens his eyes. “But they were good parents! It wasn’t anything bad, it was so we could perform together, so we could be a family!”

“I don’t think they were bad parents,” Bruce says quickly. “Not at all. But Dickie, I need to know how old you were, how old you are now. Please.”

“I forgot, at first,” Dick explains. “When you took me in. I just forgot, I swear, I didn’t keep it a secret on purpose. But then my birthday was coming up and you thought I was turning nine and I remembered I wasn’t and I got so scared and I didn’t want you to get rid of me.”

“I would never get rid of you,” Bruce assures him. “And I’m not going to be mad, I promise.”

Dick is quiet for a moment, and he doesn’t say anything until his breathing has evened out, until he’s calmed down and not panicking.

Then he admits in a quiet voice, “I was turning six.”

“So you were five?” Bruce gasps. He’d been kneeling in front of Dick’s seat, and he falls back to sit on his feet, feeling like he had the wind knocked out of him. “Oh God, you were five.”

Dick doesn’t say anything, but he nods his head. Bruce feels like he’s just had ice dumped over his head.

“You’re eighteen right now?” Bruce asks.

“Yeah.”

“Jason is older than you?”

“Barely!” Dick huffs. “Only a few months! You can’t tell him, don’t tell him!”

Bruce smiles then, because leave it to the sibling rivalry to be what gets Dick to snap out of his panic.

“We have to tell them, chum,” he says gently. “You can’t keep it a secret anymore.”

“Why not!”

“Dick,” Bruce sighs. “Do you really want to keep it a secret now? Now that you’ve told me?”

Dick is quiet for a while, but he doesn’t pull his hands away from Bruce.

“And you’re not drinking again until you’re actually 21.”

“That’s not fair!”

“I think it’s plenty fair.”

“You’re being totally lame!” Dick whines. But whatever. Dick will just drink behind his back with his friends like he did before he turned fake-21.

[thewritingfairy]

↪ 12. Confrontation gone wrong!

PREV PART trigger warning: shouting, attempted gaslighting, medical + physical + emotional neglect, trackers, the yandereness is turning up slowly main m.list       series m.list

Nightwing’s behaviour was strange, odd even. But it wasn’t as weird as your family’s, ever since that one breakdown they’ve been acting like nothing happened. Like you’re apart of the family that they’ve shunned you from, yet they’re still keep cards close to their chess. And when you realised that Damian was showing up at your favourite hang out spots a bit too often, you got paranoid.

You always carry a messenger bag around, filled with little activities, extra medication and much more. But when you forgot it at home, or at your friends house you didn’t run into Damian. You didn’t run into your family at all.

And if your suspicions are correct? That bag is the reason why Damian keeps finding you.

You drop the contents of the bags on your bed, searching through it with such precision a surgeon would be jealous and then you found it. A trinket you don’t recognise, that looks like a magnet, but you’ve watched enough crime shows to know what it is. A tracker. “That little fucker,” you curse as you snap it without thinking. The strength that it took to do that was too much for you to use in one go, your body aching the second you broke it. “and now I’ve got high ass pain, thanks Damian. Fuck you too.”

But wait a minute, why would Nightwing follow little old you?

Why would any of the bats follow you?

You who never harmed anyone, you who is just a host at Cobblepot’s restaurant.

Either the bats are in Bruce’s pocket, or they are the bats.

The time-line of the younger vigilantes would make sense with your families time-line…. “Oh fuck no,” you curse as you quickly turn to your desk, rummaging through your drawer until you find a hard drive. You quickly plug it into your laptop and check if it works, and thank god it does. Even if you don’t know for sure that your family are the protectors of Gotham, you need to put the groundwork in for plan B. You need to send this all over to Maria, to Duke, to Francis, fuck, to everyone you can. To everyone you know and trust, you need to build rapport. Maybe… maybe even send this to your work…. No, that will be your plan C.

You make a group chat and you send a mass message; ‘Publish this if you don’t hear from me for a week and Maria doesn’t inform you where I am’. (attached; file (Name) and family incidents)

“(name),” Alfred says through the door, not even bothering with knocking. “Master Bruce expects you at dinner.”

You sigh, loud enough for Alfred to hear. “Yeah, I’ll be down soon!” you shout back as you shut off your laptop and hide your hard-drive once more. “Just need to freshen up real quick!”

When you hear him walk away you breath out in relief as you try to ignore the way your phone is blowing up.

As you ignore the way your heart fills with dread, and your body becomes tense and rigid with every step you take. You know Maria will have your back if your suspicions are correct, you know that Duke would have no issues with fucking everyone up if needed. But if your family is the ‘Bat’ family, he stands no chance. Unless… unless he’s Signal, which wouldn’t surprise you, he’s always ready to help others. But unlike the bats, he doesn’t seem afraid to get his hands dirty.

But there is no time to think about that right now, you have to face your fears.

You have to get this over with.

The moment you got to the dining hall your paranoia just got worse, especially with how Damian is staring at you, with how his arms are crossed. With how he looks like he’s been scolded through and through. Good, but you’ll still have to scold him for leaving a tracker in your bag, you will not tolerate such behaviour. And you never will, yet if you keep silent he might be bold enough to try again. To do so even smarter. “Well, you guys seem tense,” you comment without thinking as you sit down at your spot, which is next to Duke (thank god).

“Who wouldn’t be?” Damian asks, slamming his fist on the table. “When a family member has hidden their health to the extent you have!”

Your eyes snap towards Cassandra but she looks everywhere but at you. Duke clenches the arms of his chair, grounding himself before he does something he’ll regret. Luckily you have no problem with showing your anger, you have no problem with omitting the truth. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” you say as you tilt your head. “I’ve never hidden my health.”

Jason scoffs and you can see Dick roll his eyes, but most importantly you can see Bruce stare you down. A glare that you can only describe as identical to Batman’s. “Give me your phone,” he says, holding out his hands. “you’re grounded until you can tell us, me, the truth.”

You laugh, you can’t help it. “What truth?!” you shout, slamming your hands on the table. “I’ve tried telling you about my health when Jason attacked me, that I was scared about another flare up. But you dismissed it, I never lied, I just never told you.”

“You committed medical fraud,” Barbara points out.

“Can you blame them?” Duke asks, glaring at her. “When none of you took them to the hospital after they were in a coma?”

At least that gagged Barbara, too bad it didn’t shut Bruce up. “Your phone, (Name).” he stresses out, making a gimme hand motion (good thing you always have a back-up phone, huh), you throw it at them. And he catches it with ease. “Thank you.”

Jason groans, this wasn’t the confrontation he was expecting. He expected them to be harsher, not to offer you a way out by giving Bruce your phone. It pisses him the fuck off. “Oh my fucking god,” he curses, throwing his head back. “how the fuck did you get the hospital to give you surgeries, to give you researches without any adult present?!”

You stare at him, raising one of your eyebrows as you cross your arms. Looking as if you’re challenging him to explain why the fuck he thinks you would answer questions like that. And Jason is officially pissing of Duke, and from the look in his eyes Cassandra could assure Jason that he’s getting his ass beat during training. “Where’s your medication?” Stephanie asks, trying to diffuse the situation. “they’re heavy, wouldn’t it be handier if someone else handled them?”

You scoff; “iI someone is to handle my medication it’s Duke, and I don’t need help remembering how to take the pills I’ve been taking for fucking years thank you very much.”

Bruce runs his hand through his hair. “No, I am your father and we will have this conversation and you will give me your medication so that I can ensure you don’t take too much or too little!” he raises his vouce,

“Whatever,” you say as you roll your eyes, but your shoulders are tense and Duke rubs your back trying to keep him calm. “let’s just eat.”

“No,” Damian hisses out. “explain, now.”

You stare at him, wondering where he found the goddamn audacity and you reach in your pocket. Throwing the broken tracker at Damian. “When you explain this, you little shit.”

Duke curses, you never had heard such creative insults come out of his mouth. If you didn’t know better you would think these insults weren’t his own, truly he’s been spending too much time with Francis. But before Duke can stand up from his seat and threaten Damian in his face you shake your head. “Duke, glad that you at least seem to understand how grave this situation is,” you say with a smile. “but we should hear what this little shit has to say before either of us put our hands on him. He’s still a child you know, and I don’t condone child abuse.”

Unlike these fuckers, went unsaid but not unheard. It makes Duke smile. “I would love to hear his explanation,” Duke agrees. “but wouldn’t you also like to know how they got your medical history.”

You grin and pretend to have a dramatic eureka moment. “Oh, babs, did you just scold me for committing medical fraud, but how did you guys get my history?” you ask, pretending to be thinking. “ahah! You guys must have done something illegal as well? My oh my, did it also make you realise that neglect is illegal?”

It got silent, and it’s clear everyone’s waiting for Damian’s answer, but also Bruce’s comments. After all Alfred is just standing there in a corner as if he did nothing wrong. But when Bruce and Damian didn’t say anything, you grinned.

“That’s what I fucking thought.”

NEXT PART GUESS WHAT, :) this story is just going to get darker from here on out.

taglist closed: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

[casedclosedbye]

Mirror Pic

Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Summary: sent dick grayson a naughty Pic while he's patrolling

wc: 1k

tw: minors dni !! 18+ getting dicked down by filthy mouthed Dick Grayson who is an absolutely horny slut

You had been feeling particularly naughty that night. You knew that Nightwing was out there, patrolling the streets of Gotham, keeping the city safe from the usual crop of villains. But you also knew he had a soft spot for you. So, with a devilish grin, you slipped into the silky lingerie set he had given you for your last anniversary. It was his favorite, the one that made his eyes darken with desire every time he saw it.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, you took a deep breath, letting the fabric hug your curves in all the right places. You had picked out the perfect outfit for the occasion: a black, lace-trimmed bra that barely contained your ample breasts, and a matching thong that left little to the imagination. The garter belt and stockings added an extra touch of seduction, and the high heels made you feel powerful, like you could conquer the world—or at least the heart of the man you loved.

You took a selfie, making sure to angle the shot so that the mirror captured all of your curves and the way the lingerie hugged your body. With a wink and a cheeky smile, you hit send, the message flying through the night to the phone that Dick Grayson kept hidden in his utility belt. You couldn't resist adding a little caption: "Missing you, Nightwing. Wish you were here to unwrap me."

You barely had time to set your phone down before you heard the sound of glass shattering. Your heart raced as you turned to see Dick Grayson, a.k.a. Nightwing, standing in your bedroom window, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity that could only be matched by the passion in your own soul.

"You little minx," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

You stepped closer to him, your hands running down your body in a deliberately seductive gesture. "I think I do," you murmured. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

He stalked towards you, his eyes never leaving yours. "You know the rules," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "No distractions on patrol."

You licked your lips. "I'm not a distraction," you protested, even though you knew full well that you were. "I'm your girlfriend."

"And because you're my girlfriend," he said, closing the distance between you, "you know exactly what I need right now."

Before you could even blink, he had you pressed against the wall, his body a solid wall of muscle that you couldn't help but melt into. His hands were everywhere, his fingers tracing the lines of your lingerie, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"You're going to be the death of me," he murmured, his mouth finding yours in a bruising kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "Then take me," you whispered against his lips. "Take me like the villain I am."

With a groan, he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you to the bed, laying you down gently before stripping away the thin barriers between you. He kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours, as he reached for the clasp of your bra.

You moaned as he bared your breasts, his mouth moving to capture one nipple, then the other. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin, making you arch your back in ecstasy. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the contours of his muscles beneath the fabric of his costume.

He sat back on his haunches, his eyes raking over your body. "You're so beautiful," he said, his voice filled with awe.

You reached up, pulling at his mask. "I want to see you," you demanded. "All of you."

With a sigh, he complied, revealing the handsome face that you knew so well. His eyes burned into yours as he slid the mask away, his gaze never leaving you as he removed the rest of his costume, revealing his bare chest, sculpted abs, and the erection that strained against his tight black pants.

You reached for him, but he stopped you with a firm grip on your wrists. "Not yet," he said. "First, I need to teach you a lesson about tempting me while I'm on duty."

He climbed onto the bed, his body covering yours. His cock pressed against your wet folds, making you whimper with need.

"You're going to get what you asked for," he warned, his voice gruff with desire. "And it's going to be rough."

You nodded, your heart racing in anticipation. You had always loved it when he took control, when he showed you just how much he wanted you.

With one swift movement, he pushed into you, filling you completely. You screamed out his name, your body clenching around him as he began to move. His thrusts were punishing, each one hitting you deep and hard, just like you liked it.

You met him stroke for stroke, your hips rising to meet his, your nails digging into his back. He kissed you again, his tongue claiming your mouth as he claimed your body.

You could feel your orgasm building, a storm gathering in your core. You knew that when it hit, it was going to be explosive.

"I'm going to come," you gasped out.

"Not yet," he said, his voice a command. He reached between your legs, his thumb finding your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure.

You whined, your body begging for release. But he held you there, on the edge, until you were panting and desperate.

"Now," he finally allowed, his voice a growl.

Your climax washed over you, a tidal wave of pleasure that had you screaming his name. He followed you over the edge, his body shuddering with his own orgasm, filling you completely.

As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, he collapsed on top of you, his breathing ragged. "I can't believe you did that," he said, his voice muffled against your neck.

You giggled, feeling his heart hammer against your chest. "It got you here, didn't it?"

He raised his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "It did," he admitted. "And I'm never going to let you forget it."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. "I wouldn't want you to," you murmured. "I want you to remember every time you see me in this lingerie."

He kissed you again, his body still buried deep inside yours. "Trust me," he said, "I'll never forget."

---

And so, your night continued, with passionate love-making that was both punishment and reward for your daring. Nightwing had arrived at your window, and he had indeed fucked your brains out. But as the sun began to rise, casting a soft glow over your tangled limbs, you both knew that it was a night that neither of you would ever forget.

[starboye]

starring: conner kent x male reader

request: Please make a continuation to the jealous Dick ex-bf fic you just posted where Superboy and reader have dirty sex 😭 perhaps Superboy can hold him in the air and fuck the hell out of him and Dick finds out ofc

warnings: smut, belly bulge, rough sex, fucking in the air, making out

directors note: this is a part 2 to this fic, sidenote but what the actual fuck did i lace that first fic with like im reading over it and oh. my. god. it's like so good i see why yall wanted a part two

some could say it's a little promiscuous to go get fucked by your ex boyfriends friend right after he just fucked you and his load is still dripping down your leg but i mean hey if you get the chance might as well take both for a ride am i right.

showing up at conners door with a needy look, it had gone around that you were a slut so conner knew exactly what you needed (and don't tell dick this but on some night where you were 'to busy' to meet up with dick for a late night hook up you were really getting your guts rearranged by superboy)

queue you two making out on his bed while he fucks your already wet hole "what dick couldn't get you off like i do" conner smirks moving his kisses to your neck "don't flatter yourself conner" you gasp arching your back with the way he goes so deep.

"well then why did you come crawling back to me huh" he turns you over onto your back and starts fucking you faster, throwing your legs over his shoulders, watching with amusement as your face contorts to the feeling of him going deeper.

"because i fucking love you're dick" you groan telling him what he wants to hear "mm mm come on say it like you mean it or am i gonna have to fuck it out of you" he leans down to whisper in your ear, a shudder driving down your spine at the mere thought of him fucking you rough.

"oh you got tighter just from me saying it, you want me to fuck you till you can't remember your own name" he asks, his hand rubbing up to your stomach, pressing down on the slight bulge he made "yes please" you mumble "louder" he slams into you "yes please" you moan out "louder" he demands fucking you rougher "yes please daddy" you yell "that's what i like to hear" conner smirks.

tightly holding your thighs as he destroys your walls while you struggled to keep your eyes from rolling to the back of your head, the head board of his bed banging against the wall with each thrust, he was enjoying making you cum all over yourself to "what is this like your fourth time cumming tonight" he laughs at your pathetic noises.

"please more" you beg him with a croaky voice from the constant moaning "please more what, use your words y/n" he grabs your chin to keep your eyes on him "please fuck me more" you whine "yes sir" he chuckles levitating you both in the air.

the feeling of little gravity made the sex even more better surprisingly, wrapping your legs around conners waist "look at that" conner smiles pulling your head to look down at the bulge he's giving you in your stomach "that's all me baby, every damn inch" he fucks you harder and harder before he empties his load into you.

"fuckkk you know how to make a guy feel good" conner huffs bringing you both back down to the bed, your phone lighting up with a notification to which conner grabs it "mr nightwing himself" he chuckles turning the phone to you showing dick texts, you try to reach for the phone but conner keeps it away and takes a picture of you sending it to dick with the message "he's a little busy".

"well we should clean up because dicks gonna be here in a while and do you really wanna argue with him while covered in cum" conner says looking down at your fucked out body "okay" is all you could barely respond. (this could lead to them fucking you at the same time)

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

[chaoticwriting]

Part 3

Danny X Cass Part 4

They arrive at the pantry in just a moment. Danny, Cass and the rest of the batfam go to take their seat while Clark and Diana go to make some teas and snacks. Danny and Cass sit beside each other with the other side of Cass being Spoiler. Opposite of Danny is Bruce while beside him are Nightwing and Robin. Red Robin takes a chair and sits right behind Batman while still taping on his wrist computer.

Batman, Nightwing and Robin keep staring at Danny while Clark and Diana prepare the snacks and teas but Danny doesn't look nervous at all. As much as Danny wants to take all of them seriously, he really can't when he knows what he knows.

A moment later Clark and Diana come with 2 trays of snacks and teas and put them on the table. They take a chair each and sit near the end of the table. Clark and Diana can feel the intense glares from 3 bats. Both of them glance at the target in question and they can see that the guy takes the glare with stride. It's like the person that is being glared at is someone else.

Suddenly, a loud ding sounded in the room. Danny takes out his phone and a grin spreads on his face. Danny shows the screen to Cass and she also releases a few giggles. Feeling the glares becoming more intense, Danny puts his phone on the table and lets everyone see what he is seeing.

On his phone is a selfie of Dan holding a bloodied Darkseid in one hand with a caption "Can't even give out a decent fight. Even Boxy is a better sparring partner than him." Another message entered Danny's phone and there is a selfie of Elle with Danny's clone bitch slapping Trigon in the background. "This place is so cool. You gotta bring me here to play more." Danny shows the rest of the heroes that the deed is done and they finally relax. Clark stands up from his table and goes back to the other room to inform the other heroes that the threat had already been taken care of.

Danny then puts back his phone and continues drinking his tea. Heh. They might think that they are being scary but they don't even know even now Danny is still flirting with Cass. That's one of the benefits of being able to read the opponent's body language and ghost speak. To others holding hands is just holding hands but to them, holding hands can be used to convey all of your emotions.

They stay like that for a while longer until Clark returns from the other room. Seeing Clark fully seated, Bruce finally speaks.

"Who are you really?" Bruce asks with the most intimidating voice he can use.

"Didn't I say? I'm Danny Phantom. High King of Infinite Realm etc etc. I have a lot of titles but the high King one is the only important one." Danny says carelessly.

"How old are you?" Bruce asks.

"20"

"Impossible." Red Robin suddenly interjects.

"Why is it impossible?" Danny looks curiously at him. He genuinely doesn't know why it is impossible.

"There are records of you all across time all the way back to the ancient human. There are even traces of you in multiple pantheons." Red Robin says.

"Oh, you mean that. Duh, it's easy. I time travel. It's quite easy to time travel when your pops is the master of time." Danny says.

"But didn't you say Clockwork hates when someone messes with time?" Superman asks.

"If there is a time traveler that messes with the timeline, who do you think will deal with the guy? It certainly ain't that old man. He sends me to deal with the time traveler/magician who are trying to change the timeline." Danny says.

"Is Clockwork your father then?" Diana asks.

"Adopted parents. He is my parents/mentor for anything ghost related. Well actually for most things related except personal human problems." Danny says.

"How long have you known Black Bat?" Nightwing asks. Finally the real question.

"Wait, I think 10 years now. You are 21 right Cass? I remember when I first met her she was being chased down by this weird ninja. After I shot a few of them down with my Fenton Taser, Cass handled the rest of them. She then passed out from exhaustion and I brought her to my secret hideout (A cave Danny found just then). After a few days, Cass fully recovered and since then, she and I have been meeting every few months whenever she comes around."

"Also, I know all of your real identity. The phrase 'Dead man tells no tales' is a complete bs by the way. The ghosts really like gossiping. Like that one time I heard a ghost say that he sees Bruce fall into the dumpster because his grappling hook is jammed. Or that one time Dick got catcalled by an old lady."

The bats (except Cass)froze when they hear that Danny knows their secret identity. Bruce sighs and takes off his cowl followed by the rest of the family.

"Do you also know my identity, Danny?" Clark asks.

"Yes, I know you Kal-el. Your parents are very proud of what you have become."

"You met Ma and Pa?"

"Your biological parents."

"You- you've met my parents?" Clark's voice shakes. Danny nods while smiling warmly.

"If you want, I can set up a meeting with your parents. Not for long of course. It's not good for a mortal to be inside the realm for too long. And that invitation extends to all of you."

Most of them stilled at that invitation.

[winkofcharm]

Spinning, Spinning, Spun - Chapter 2

I wanted more for this chapter, but apparently I'm travelling this weekend so it's all I could do.

batfamily x reader {platonic}

[first] [previous] [next]

Alfred thinks he may rival any of The Flashes in how quickly he moves. Any aching joints or stiff knees that may slow him down are forgotten in his hurry. He does not call Stephanie back to inform her, throwing all his attention into getting into the Batcave as soon as he can.  There is no time to waste, for if Stephanie is right - you haven’t been heard from in at least a week, a week too long. If the laughter at the end of your voicemail is real, then you’re not just missing, you’ve been taken.

‘It’s all too familiar’, Alfred thinks, punching in the access code before stepping into the elevator. ‘It’s happened again, another child - gone’. The past replays in his mind, over and over again. Jason, gone, dead, killed by the same grotesque creature that now holds you. 

Alfred is forced to wipe his eyes, clear away his forming tears, so that the retina scanner works. And as soon as he is able, the emergency alert goes out. He knows it will wake Bruce and Tim, and he knows it may take a few minutes for Dick and Barbara to join virtually - but sure enough, his family fills the cave. 

Batman, Robin, Red Robin, Batgirl and Spoiler are all gathered within a half hour. Nightwing’s and Oracle’s faces each on a monitor. Spoiler, Stephanie, is pale, her face twisted into a look of guilt, eyes staring into Alfred’s as he begins to speak. 

The words are slow to form, and choke him as he forces them out-

“I was made aware not long ago that,” Alfred pauses, not purposely, but long enough to give a shuddering sigh, “The young master has -” His eyes settle on Stephanie, who has yet to divert her eyes from him. It is a slight movement, but her head is shaking, back and forth, a silent prayer for him to not finish. “Has been taken.” He finishes. 

Stephanie shrinks into herself, it was not the answer she wanted, but the one she received nonetheless. Alfred shuts his eyes, refuses to look upon the others as he provides more information, the only information he had. He forces the words out, as if speaking them is carving them into stone. He knows he will have to say them, no matter how little he wishes to. He will have to open his eyes, and bear witness to a world in which you most certainly have been harmed. 

He tells them all he knows.

He tells them how Stephanie had noticed your lack of online presence, how she had reached out to him, and he had tried to contact you, and how your voicemail had been…altered. How the laugh at the end could belong to only one person. He finishes, and silence takes over. The only sound he hears is his own heart pounding in his ears - waiting for someone, anyone, to tell him that he was wrong. That you were in fact safe and sound, that you were upstairs in your room, wrapped tightly in blankets and securely asleep. 

Barbara is the first to speak, her voice coming from the speakers, bouncing around the cave with a slight echo. 

“They failed to check in with me today, but they did yesterday. It’s unlikely they’ve been gone that long - “ she explains, Alfred can hear the tap-tap-tap of her keyboard through the surround sound system. She remotely takes control of the computer, various screenshots of conversations popping up as she does. The very latest is dated yesterday, 5:15pm for its final message. 

The picture above your final message (‘Your last words’ Alfred thinks) is cut off, but he catches the end of a runway, and the top of your seated legs.

K. 

That’s it. 

5:15pm: K.

“According to their schedule, they should be in Milan for fashion week - huh. Strange -” Barbara stops mid-sentence. Her brow furrowing as she types rapidly, “But the jet’s in New York, and has been for-” she cuts herself off again. Typing getting faster, a frown overtaking her expression. “Three weeks - what? They’ve been sending pictures from all over the place?” 

Stephanie’s eyes widen, and she steps forward. 

“That picture is from last year,” She pulls out her phone and pulls up profile, scrolling back through a years worth of content, “See! It’s the same one!” She claims. She sends it wirelessly to the computer, and it pops up squished between Babara and Dick’s faces. 

Even from what little he could see of your messages from Barbara, he can tell it’s the truth. The lights are the same, the runway and laying in your lap are identical, down to the tiniest of stains on the knee of your pants. 

Barbara proceeds to pull up more and more of the pictures you have supposedly sent her these last few days, and sure enough - each one is a duplicate to an earlier post. Panic and fear bubble in Stephanie’s chest as she confirms each one, and Alfred watches as the rest of his family begin to realize - 

You were gone.

Someone had your phone.

That someone had been pretending to be you.

If the laugh at the end of your voicemail was any indication - 

Joker had you, had had you for a week, at least. 

And no one had noticed. 

It’s only when Bruce steps forward, that Barbara and Stephanie fall silent, and back into line. His eyes are steel, cold and hard,  flickering over all the presented information. 

“Nightwing, come back to Gotham, you and I will focus on the Red Hood case. Spoiler and Robin, I need you to investigate the Jet, check it over, see if anything is out of place,” He pauses, deep in thought before continuing, “Oracle, track their digital movements. Phone records, previous posts - everything. Red Robin, Batgirl, try and see if they have any enemies. Anyone who may have wanted them hurt, or wanted to hurt the Wayne family.” 

Bruce stops, and looks over his team, his family, as he gives his instruction. Splitting their attention at a time like this, with a new violent vigilante on the loose in his city, wasn’t ideal. He would make it work - he had to. Red Hood was targeting the Robins, Red Robin in particular, this gave him both an excuse to get Tim off the Red Hood case, and onto your disappearance. He hopes they aren’t connected, and hopes he can keep the rest of them from realizing they might be. 

It would be easier for him to take Red Hood on with Dick alone; and if it means letting the rest think Joker - who is still firmly locked in Arkham - took you, then so be it. 

Bruce dismisses his team, his family, his children, and watches them all flit off into the night. Oracle signs off with a flourish, but Dick remains behind - the computer automatically adjusts so that his face, and his face alone takes up the entire monitor. Bruce is turned away from the monitor, and despite the distance between them, he can feel his son's eyes burn into his back. He knows that Dick is frowning, knows what he will say when he turns to face him. He lets out a sigh, there is no preventing what is to come, his shoulders fall slack, and he finally turns to face what he knows is coming - as if he is the son to be scolded by his father. 

Dick is angry, is disappointed, and frustrated. He may not have been as close to you as he could have been, but you were still part of his family. He was once told that keeping you at arms length meant keeping you safe, but he learned long ago that was a lie. 

He was already Nightwing by the time he had met you, but he had known of you for far longer. He learned of you from bits and pieces, crumbs dropped by those who barely let a thing slide. Written reports on a desk that he was technically forbidden from reading, early morning phone calls between Alfred and some secret stranger - everything pointed to a secret, and Dick was really, really good at figuring out people's secrets.

He discovered you, and then, to his regret, left you alone. He was gone by the time you finally came home, and with Jason arriving nearly the same day to replace him - his attention was diverted to the most pressing matter. He did visit occasionally, and met you through those visits. 

You didn’t know about the Batman thing, and he was fine keeping that from you. He also didn’t think he had to make sure Jason knew about keeping the Batman thing secret from you, but maybe he should have. There was such a clear divide between you pre-knowing, and post-knowing. 

Dick can’t help but think that if he had tried just a bit more, things may have been different. He appreciates all that you do, really he does - it’s just, he doesn’t know you the way he knows everyone else. Doesn’t know what makes you happy or sad, doesn’t know your favourite foods, favourite colours, or even who your friends are ( do you even have any, outside of those you work with?). Now it may be too late, he thinks. If Joker has you, and you’ve really been gone for as long as they think - it’s Jason all over again. He wonders if he’ll see you too, in the dark corners of his mind. If an apparition of you, molded by his own mind, will taunt his failures as Jason’s ghost does. 

It’s not even the first time you’ve been kidnapped. They all have, at some point or another, but they all had training to get themselves out. You hadn’t, and yes, most of the time it was some low ranking organization or crook looking for a quick buck, thinking you an easy target (and you were an easy target), it didn’t change the fact that it’d happened. 

Didn’t change the fact that after the first time, Dick had promised he’d spend more time with you (and then didn’t). Then it happened again, and this time you weren’t even rescued by a family member, by a familiar face. Maybe it was one of the Supers? Or maybe a Flash? You were brought home by a Green Lantern once (twice). Each time he’d promise himself, he’d treat you better, each time he promised you’d be safer and it wouldn’t happen again - and then it did. 

It ate at him, how you’d shrug off each incident without a word. Perhaps, he thinks, he convinced himself that it didn’t affect you, that even if you were snatched up, you’d be saved in the end, so the fact that it happened didn’t matter. But it did matter, it did. He swears it did, and staring down at your shared Father, who had swore time and time again that you’d be kept safe (and being proven wrong, time and time again) it sinks in that this may be the last time.  That those promises he made to himself were never going to be kept, that he was a liar, that for all his bravado about being the best big brother , he was possibly one of the worst. 

“Bruce,” he forces out, words dancing on the tip of his tongue, “You said this wouldn’t happen again.” 

‘This’ being either you being kidnapped again, or having another of his siblings taken away by the clown prince of crime. He isn’t sure which one he means, or maybe he means both - and judging from the look on Bruce’s face, he takes it as both. 

“It hasn’t, “ Bruce starts, and Dick thinks he may have finally lost it. You definitely were taken again, and a good chance it was - “He’s still locked up.” 

What?

“Joker’s still in Arkham, the others will figure that out soon enough,” He continues, and Dick stares open-mouthed at him. If Joker is still in Arkham, then who? Who has you? Harley? Is it an attempt to bust Joker out? To continue his work while he cannot? Dick can’t help but wonder what is worse, thinking Joker or Harley may have you, or not knowing who does. He runs over all the possibilities in his mind, for surely this must be one of their known enemies. Someone who wants to target them, because there was never a reason to target you specifically. 

But there’s a new player on the board, isn’t there? One that’s started cropping up everywhere they look. 

“Bruce, you don’t think it’s him do you?” Dick waits for an answer, and all he gets is the slightest nod of Bruce’s head. “I see. I’ll be back in Gotham by the morning, and then, we’re tracking Red Hood down.” With that, Dick dismisses himself, logging off and finally Bruce is alone. 

He is not a good father. He knows this. He has never pretended otherwise, despite what some may say. They may say he did his best, he did all that he could. They praise him for the way his children have turned out, the ones that survived, as if he is the reason they did so. He knows he is not, especially not when it comes to you. 

There is nothing he has done right for you, not once, except perhaps try to set you free from the darkness. But even that, he thinks, he has done wrong. To let you grow in the sun, he severed your roots. Refused to let them take hold, that someday you might leave him, and his shadows behind, and start anew. Yet he sought to tie you to him, that you might never find that sun, may see it, but never feel its warmth for yourself. 

He is a selfish man, who drags those around him down, he poisons the well from which you drink long before you could find another. In wanting to keep you close, he has driven you away. In wanting to drive you away, he may have killed you. 

You are his first born, one that he did not want, but was no less dear to him. He has never shown you this, never let you know, and now that may be another great failure atop the pile of other great failures. 

He was not there when you were born, didn’t even know you were to be, but when the hospital called, he felt his heart swell. A family, a father in a way that Dick didn’t really need him to be. He didn’t rush, couldn’t rush. It wouldn’t be the first time he was declared the father of an illegitimate child. He pushed for tests, just in case, and when they came back and you were his, he felt himself hope. 

Hope is a fickle mistress, and he found it lacking soon after. He had you placed in his childhood room, the nursery, the one in which all Wayne children had resided in at some point or another. He thought he could keep up with raising a child and being The Batman. He was young, he was capable, he was, he was doing so very very wrong by you.

A baby was different from a preteen, he soon learned. Dick was easy, because for the most part, he could care for himself. He did not need someone to watch him at all hours, didn’t need nappies changed and bottles warmed. It was not care he nor Alfred could give. 

He did what he thought was best, and though it haunted him, he sent you away, and promised he would bring you back when you were older, when it would be better, easier. 

A better time, an easier time, never came. Something always came up, always held him back on bringing you home. He didn’t think that time would ever come, doesn’t know if it truly had. But you came home, the woman he had personally hired to raise you was retiring, and he figured it was the only chance he had to bring you in. 

The date slipped his mind, and on the day you came home, he found Jason. Instead of greeting you, welcoming you, embracing you, he opened his arms to another, letting you slip into the manor like a phantom. 

You were finally home and despite all that you may have needed - Jason needed more. He passed you in the hallways, sometimes at meals, never really stopping to connect with you the way he should have. He learned of you indirectly, through Jason. 

How glad he was, that you held no animosity towards the boy he had taken in. You never gave any inclination towards the idea he may have stolen your place, even if Jason sometimes thought he had. The boy was sensitive, empathetic to a degree Bruce hadn’t known before. And Bruce, for the moment, encouraged it.

Until you found out about Batman. 

He had done what he could to keep you separate. To keep your life and light safe from the dark and dirt that encompassed all he did. It was Jason’s mistake, and Jason would be punished accordingly. But that left you - sitting alone in the study, eyes cast aside until he began to speak and you looked up and oh- 

Your eyes. 

His mothers eyes. 

He had never looked you in the eyes before, never noticed, how could he not notice? You had her eyes. Your eyes, looking upon him in fear, reminding him so clearly of his mothers eyes on that night.  His mothers eyes, frightened of him. 

He panicked. Lashed out, locked you out of the loop and threw away the key. If it meant you hated him, feared him, so be it. He would keep you safe, he would do all he could to keep those eyes in his life. 

And then he failed. Again. He thought by letting you go into the world slowly, he could at least try to keep you safe and content. 

Again, and again, and again, and again. He watched you suffer as he failed you. Then when you finally seem to be escaping his failure, leaving behind all his mistakes, he refuses to let you go. Forces you to play pretend, to put a metaphorical mask on and lie to the world about how perfect he is -

Sometimes he lets himself believe it, lets himself get lost in the fairy tale, that you are a happy child and he is a good father, that he has never abandoned you, that you and he are a team, taking on the world together. He pretends that he has never missed a ceremony or award, that ‘family night’ includes you, that he doesn’t see only your back walking away from him, that he has never walked away from you. 

‘This is the last time,’ Bruce thinks, going back over all your accounts, comparing the recent ones to the timeline of Red Hood showing up in Gotham. ‘After this, I will let them go.’ 

He knows this is another lie, and chooses to believe it anyway. 

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

Next chapter - Red Hood vs Batman,

and finally, a check in with Reader-tan

@holybatflapexpert @electricgg @xoyumiqls @holderoflostmemories @sleeptimes @galaxypurplerose @sassam @pearlyribbons @bellelamoon @fortunatelydifferentqueen

@randomlyappearingartist @c4xcocoa @whyiseveryuseenametaken @myjumper

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man i'm hopin these tags work

[brainmuncher]

The emergency

A good number of members within the Justice League have children. Not all of those kids are biological or adopted but they are their kids nonetheless. Some of those kids are even old enough to be adult heroes of their own, but even then they are still their kids. And the other kids tend to take up heroism at a very young age to most people's chagrin. Although as shown by the original child hero, now going by Nightwing, it’s not as easy as telling the kids to stop.

It was learned through intense hardship that smothering the child heroes was just asking for trouble. Despite how much the older heroes wanted to stay close to their kids, it was seen as overbearing and a show of mistrust. They would act out with even less backup in retaliation, which would only bring even more stress.

So to satisfy the need for protection without stepping on any toes, two new emergency meeting signals were introduced.

One was for the kids to send off. Each one was gifted a small device that could be hidden in their person. The device had both a mic and a tracking chip that could be activated when they were in extreme danger. As soon as the device was active a signal would be sent to the league for an emergency distress signal with the details of who sent it. Due to an outcry from the kids, the device could not be activated by the guardian of the child. The mic and locator could only be activated from the device itself. It wasn’t nearly as protective as some of the more worried leaguers would like, but it was at least something. 

The second signal was one that the leaguer with a kid in danger could activate. This signal could be activated with a single code into the communicators that every member owned. If the member who sent out the signal didn’t specify what kid was in danger, every member would receive a generalized notification of the emergency alert for one of the kids. This wasn’t ideal, but it was learned early on that the guardian of the child was often too distressed to make the code more complicated. It was best to leave it simple and answer questions at the emergency meeting.

Which was great in all, until someone who doesn’t have a child involved with heroics in their care sends off a general emergency.

In places all over the globe, an emergency meeting signal message was sent by Hal Jordan, one of the lanterns. He didn’t include what child was in danger in the signal, meaning that it could be any of the underaged heroes. And considering he didn’t have a child in his care, that made multiple members panic.

When was the last time they checked in with the kids in their care? Who was the one he was sending the code for? What happened to the child he had noticed was in danger? Why is he the one that noticed? Where were their kids? Who was in danger?

Because of the nebulous nature of the call, it didn’t take long for multiple heroes to find the nearest transport to the watchtower and tumble in. What they didn’t expect was the absolute haggard appearance of their friend. He was standing in the meeting room looking like the world had been destroyed before his very eyes. The way he sat without even cracking a sarcastic remark made multiple members pause.

“Hal?” Wonder Woman called, her face pinched in concern. “What has happened?”

The aforementioned member looked over who had already arrived before settling on her face. It was at that moment she knew that he was only looking so collected through willpower alone. This wasn’t just any child of the league, this was personal.

“My nephew Danny has been captured,” He began, sending a wave of different emotions circling the room. “I’ve been trying to find where they took him for a week now and I can’t get any leads. I need your help.”

The unsaid questions and emotions were nearly palpable. Multiple members turned to one another or stared with a million questions. Nobody had known that Hal even had a nephew named Danny. Sure he mentioned someone named Jason at times, but he never indicated anything else. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned him or the fact that he’d been apparently searching for a week was strange.

“And why are you only telling us now? Why did you wait so long?” Superman asked, speaking up the question that was on multiple minds.

A fire of anger curled in Hal's eyes. It was fierce and protective. It was a mixture of appalment for being questioned on his decision and fury for the reasons why he had to do it in the first place. He stepped forward towards the center table, slamming his palms down and leaning into it.

“Because any person that goes against the group will be declared an enemy of the United States. I’ve already had my account and housing connected to Green Lantern seized,” He explained with a deceptively calm tone. “I also needed to make sure that they didn’t have any connections with the Justice League. They have their agents everywhere.”

Unsurprisingly, Batman appeared from the gathered heroes from seemingly nowhere. Despite the feud between the two of them, the Bat was completely zeroed in on the situation. While he had a decent amount of distrust in the lantern, mainly because of the parallax incident, he could tell that the man was genuine. And the Bat always did have a blind spot for children.

“Explain,” Was all Batman said, staring Hal down.

The lantern in question looked at him with a grim face. This was it. Now or never.

“They’re called the Ghost Investigation Ward, or GIW for short. They hunt down and either exterminate or experiment on anyone they deem ectocontaminated or a ghost,” Hal started to explain, his hand curling on the table in frustration. “My brother Jack faked his death and ran off to be with another woman. Those fucks deemed my nephew as ectocontaminated and tried to take him from his home. He ran from his family so that they couldn’t be arrested for knowingly harboring an ecto entity. Told me that he remembered my face from a photo his dad tried to hide in the attic and sought me out.”

If the fire in his eyes were any stronger, they would probably become physical and burn down the room. It was undeniable that Hal Jordan was understandably completely pissed off. This situation was terrible from down to the very root.

“I tried to hide him but they somehow found him anyway. Now my civilian name is being heavily monitored and Green Lantern is being hunted down,” He finished his explanation. “If you join me in this, be prepared to lose everything.”

This was so much worse than anyone could’ve predicted.

[nightingale-prompts]

Bat!Danny Idea

Hear me out. Danny's wings get cut off by the Joker.

Batboy also known as Danny Nightingale-Grayson is caught by the Joker after sneaking off again to visit Red Hood and or Red Robin.

Joker wants to send a message to Batman about what he thinks of his new sidekick and cuts off Batboy's wings.

The wings are found in a gorey display pinned to the iconic bat signal right over the light.

What would Nightwing do knowing that Joker not only took his son but cut off his limbs?

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

⺌☆. . . MASTERLIST ───  . DC & Marvel

☆...Original art; discount-supervillain

「 The list is updated daily. If you'd like to see a character on this list, please request it or ask in the comments if they can be added.

Below is a list of links. If at any point none of them work, please send me a message or comment below the list mentioning the issue, and I will fix it immediately. Not all links have visible warnings from the outside. Most do not have explicit warnings. However, if you're interested in any particular link, I recommend opening it and checking the warnings within each post to understand its content.

Also, if you see some titles without a link, it may be because they are not yet made or haven't been published yet.」

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Welcome to the DC Section—Tread Carefully, or Darkseid Will Get You!

─── SUPERMAN Clark Kent

☆...Reporter by day, hero by night… and also by day! The real star-man. Can lift buildings, see through walls, and give Lex Luthor a heart attack just by existing.

Its Evolution, Baby! Yandere Clark Kent x Inmortal! Reader [old post]

Quimera Yandere! Clark Kent x Android reader.

─── BATMAN Bruce Wayne

☆...Billionaire by day, vigilante by night… and apparenty, never sleeps. His superpowers? Money and being Gotham’s most wanted bachelor.

Revenant Platonic! Yandere! Bruce Wayne x neglected! Reader. (Silly Little Bat AU)

─── WONDER WOMAN Diana Prince

☆...Amazonian princess, warrior goddess, and the reason many reconsider which side they’re fighting for.

To the future Diana Prince x Wife! Preg! Reader

─── SUPERBOY Conner Kent

☆...Half Superman, half Lex Luthor—because cloning is never a good idea. Too cool for school, too powerful for his own good, and forever stuck between "punch first" and "think later."

The Jubilee Conner Kent x Jubilee! Reader

───  ROBIN Damian Wayne

☆...Batman’s son, raised by assassins, and practically immortal. His favorite hobby? Reminding everyone he’s better than them.

Ponyo! Pt.1 Pt.2 Platonic! Damian Wayne x Ponyo! Reader.

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

─── RED ROBIN Tim Drake

☆...The Bat-Family’s teenage detective, the smart one. He probably solved this joke before you even finished reading it.

Nothing yet...

─── RED HOOD Jason Todd

☆...Once: Robin. Now: a guy with guns, authority issues, and serious family drama… well, just with his dad.

Nothing yet...

───  NIGHTWING Dick Grayson

☆...The original Boy Wonder with the best backside in comics. Leads teams, breaks hearts, and jumps rooftops like a pro.

Pierrot, the Sad Clown Yandere! Dick Grayson x Villainess! Reader

The Playboy Yandere! Student! Dick Grayson x depressed! Reader

─── ORPHAN / BATGIRL Cassandra Cain

☆...Doesn’t talk much, but doesn’t need to when she can take you down with a single look. Relax, she already knows everything about you.

Atelophobia Cassandra Cain x Asian! Fem reader!

─── HARLEY QUINN Harleen Quinzel

☆...From psychiatrist to villain, to hero, to whatever she wants to be today. Chaotic yet charming—everyone’s favorite girl

The Wildcart series pt1 pt2 pt3 Platonic!Harley Quinn x Reader | Damian Wayne x Harley Daughter! Reader

Sororal Platonic! Harley Quinn x Reader

─── POISON IVY Pamela Isley

☆...An eco-terrorist with style. Loves plants, eats meat, and hates humans… except for Harley. But let’s be real, Harley doesn’t really count as human.

But I, love Ivy Pamela Isley x Reader (Silly Little Bat)

Death in Bloom Pamela Isley x Male! Reader

─── LIVEWIRE Leslie L. Willem

☆...The rebel radio host with more voltage than a lightning storm. Don’t touch her unless you like frizzy hair… or want to risk your life!

Voicenote Leslie L. Willem x Male! Reader

Marvel’s Mightiest! Starting with Squirrel Girl—Because Even Galactus Fears Her!

─── WINTER SOLDIER Bucky Barnes

☆...Ex-sidekick, ex-brainwashed assassin, current broody guy with a metal arm. Still figuring things out.

Little Soldier Yandere! Platonic! Winter Soldier! Bucky Barnes x Supersoldier! Teen! Reader

Welcome to the 80's Yandere! Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Yandere! Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── CAPTAIN AMERICA Steve Rogers

☆...Super-soldier, shield thrower, and America’s best boy scout. Can do this all day. He loves cookies...a lot.

Welcome to the 80's Platonic! Steven Rogers x reader x Platonic! Bucky Barnes

─── SPIDER-MAN Peter Parker & variants

☆...Wall-crawling, web-slinging, wise-cracking menace (according to J. Jonah Jameson). The amazing Spiderman!Just trying to balance life, rent, and saving New York...or Japan...or England, they are so many Spiders today! Damn multiverse!

Lacrymose Yandere! Cheater! Miguel O'Hara x Wife! Reader

─── VENOM Eddie Brock

☆...A journalist, a monster, and kind of a lethal protector. Likes brains, hates Spider-Man a lot.

The Monster Platonic Venom x Reader

─── SQUIRREL GIRL Doreen Green

☆...The unbeatable, unbreakable, unmatchable Squirrel Girl! She’s taken down Thanos, Galactus, and probably you in your sleep.

Balter Platonic! Doree Green x Mutant! Reader

─── PROFESSOR X Charles Xavier

☆...Mind-reader, mentor, and leader of the X-Men. Has a dream of mutant-human peace—if only Magneto would stop ruining it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

─── MAGNETO Erik Lehnsherr

☆...Master of magnetism, enemy-turned-ally-turned-enemy-again. Probably right about mutants, but also probably too dramatic about it.

The Song of the Raven series Pt1 Pt2 Yandere! Platonic!Charles Xavier x Raven! reader x Yandere! Platonic! Erik Lehnsherr

Fata Morgana Yandere Erik Lehnsherr x Chubby! Witch! Reader

─── CYCLOPS Scott Summers

☆...The guy who can’t take off his sunglasses—unless he wants to level a city block. Team leader, rule follower, Jean Grey’s eternal headache!..or not.

Devil in Paradise Yandere! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Little Pebble Yandere! Platonic! Scott Summers x Mutant!Reader

Bag of bones Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

─── GAMBIT Remy LeBeau

☆...The smooth-talking, card-throwing Cajun thief. Can make anything explode—especially hearts.

Black Sheep Yandere! Platonic! Remy LeBeau x reader.

─── NIGHTCRAWLER Kurt Wagner

☆...A teleporting, acrobatic, demon-looking sweetheart. More Catholic guilt than your grandma. He's a baby boy.

Lurks Within Walls Yandere Kurt Wagner x Mutant! Reader

Nocturnal Animal Yandere Kurt Wagner x Wife! Reader

─── BEAST Hank McCoy

☆...A genius, a gentleman, and a giant blue fuzzball. Talks like Shakespeare, fights like a beast.

Savior Complex Yandere Hank McCoy x reader

─── STORM Ororo Munroe

☆...Controls the weather, commands respect, and makes every entrance legendary. A literal goddess.

My Pearl Yandere! Platonic! Ororo Munroe x Clon! Reader

─── PHOENIX Jean Grey

☆...Omega-level psychic, cosmic firebird, occasional planet-destroyer. She dies and comes back more often than a soap opera character.

Mourning Sun Yandere! Platonic! Jean Grey x Telepath! Reader

─── ROGUE Anna Marie

☆...One touch and she steals your powers, memories, and maybe your soul. Southern charm with a serious "hands-off" policy.

All I Wanted Anna Marie x Inmune! Reader

─── STAR-LORD Peter Quill

☆...Space outlaw, mixtape enthusiast, and self-proclaimed legendary hero. Usually messing things up in the best way possible.

Ramé Peter Quill x Astronaut! Reader

Nova Peter Quill x Alien! Reader

This part is under maintenance!

And finally, DOCTOR DOOM . Because all stories should end with Doom… at least according to him.

[yannawayne]

vi. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Wounds, Violence, Surgical procedures, Panic Attacks, Arguments AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

NOTE: THIS IS PART 6. I POSTED 2 CHAPTERS TODAY! PART 5 IS HERE

 ༻⊰───⋅

"No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday, 8:35 AM - Gotham Academy, Gotham City.

The halls of Gotham Academy buzzed with the usual chatter and laughter—a total disconnect from the storm of nerves brewing inside you. You zigzagged through the crowd, your trusty, battle-worn Converse scuffing against the linoleum. Damian’s varsity jacket hung over your uniform, the hood pulled low to hide the cuts on your face.

Morgan had ditched you at the entrance, probably off to plot some mad science in the labs. Not exactly your idea of fun, so you opted for aimless wandering instead.

And if I only could I'd make a deal with God.  And I'd get Him to swap our places.  Be runnin' up that road.  Be runnin' up that hill  Be runnin' up that building. 

Your headphones were snug, the music offering a temporary refuge as you walked, your head instinctively nodding to the beat. Even with the volume cranked up, you couldn’t shake the awareness of every shift in the crowd, the way the jacket rubbed against your sore muscles, or the stiffness in your back and arm from the muscle tear. Concerned whispers drifted past you, catching on the currents of passing conversations, but you kept moving, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm of the song.

When you reached Damian’s locker, you leaned against it, letting the cool metal soothe your aching back. You adjusted the hood of his jacket, tugging it further down to hide the cuts around your face. With your free hand, you quickly typed out a message to Damian, your fingers flying over the screen, each tap a small burst of nervous energy.

You:

"At your locker."

You hit send, slipped your phone back into your pocket, then immediately pulled it out again. This time, you opened Twitter, your thumb instinctively scrolling through your feed for any updates on the recent incident.

Tweets about the attack were already trending, paired with blurry photos and clickbait headlines. You cringed as fan accounts for #Nightcrawler started flooding in. It was wild how fast the public’s attention could flip from genuine concern to a full-blown obsession with the latest hero—or villain. 

You sighed, the tension in your shoulders building as you scrolled through the flood of posts.

“Beloved?”

A tanned hand brushed gently against your arm, followed by the sight of polished brown dress shoes stepping into view.

“Dami,” you murmured with a relieved smile, leaning into his hold, your head still bowed.

Damian instinctively pulled you into a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. The embrace was firm but careful, as if he feared you might break under too much pressure. He could feel the stiffness in your muscles, your body wound tight with unspoken tension. His eyes narrowed with concern, but he stayed silent, letting the quiet speak for both of you.

His gaze flicked to your phone screen, catching sight of the trending tweets.

“Nightcrawler…” Damian murmured, and you lifted your head just enough to meet his eyes.

Sighing, you shifted so your cheek rested against his chest, the cool scent of his cologne grounding you. You kept scrolling, clicking on a particularly cringeworthy tweet and wincing at the fanatical comments.

“Can you believe these people?” you murmured, frustration seeping into your voice. “It’s insane.”

Sometimes you wondered how Damian and his brothers dealt with all the fanatics, the constant drooling over their hero personas—or even their civilian lives.

Damian’s grip tightened as he held you closer, his brow furrowing in disapproval as he read the tweets over your shoulder.

Repulsive. To him, it was a grotesque spectacle. The media had managed to paint the Spider into a celebrated hero, a figure of admiration, when in reality, the person behind that mask was nothing more than a monster, cloaked in deception and false heroism.

“They’re utterly obsessed,” Damian scoffed. “It’s as if they’ve completely forgotten there’s a real person behind that mask.”

“I know, right?” You sighed, closing Twitter and slipping your phone back into your pocket. “Like, I really don’t want to see those posts. They’re just—so much.”

Damian noticed your distress and instinctively started rubbing soothing circles on your back. But as his hand moved, a sharp muscle spasm seized your shoulder. You cursed, a wince escaping you as the sensation left you momentarily frozen. It felt as if someone had taken a wrench to your shoulder, yanking and twisting until every fiber protested in sharp, jarring bursts. 

Damian’s hand froze.

Muscle tear. He realized.

Without a word, he guided you gently into a nearby janitor’s closet. The door clicked shut behind you, cutting off the noise of the bustling hallway and granting you both some much-needed privacy. 

Inside, he carefully placed his hand on your elbow and began to stretch the affected muscle. You winced as a sharp twinge of pain flared, but Damian’s voice was soft and soothing.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple,  offering a small but comforting distraction from the pain.

Gradually, the pain eased, and you let out a sigh of relief. Your shoulders relaxed, the tight knots unwinding.

"I love you and your weird Robin skills," you said with a grateful smile, rolling your shoulders and feeling the tension dissipate.

Damian’s lips twitched into a faint, approving smile, though his voice remained gruff. “Love you too.”

He continued to watch you with a keen, sharp gaze, noticing the hood of your hoodie pulled up. His eyes traced the shadowy outline of your face, and he realized he hadn’t seen it clearly. His expression shifted to one of concern, a frown creasing his brow.

“Why haven’t you taken your hood down?” he asked quietly, his voice low and probing.

You pursed your lips, trying to edge toward the exit. But before you could make a clean getaway, Damian’s hand shot out, gripping your arm and yanking you back into him. You collided with his chest, and for a second, it felt like you’d just hugged a brick wall in a hoodie.

“And where do you think you’re going?” 

“Uh, nowhere, apparently,” you sighed, realizing escape wasn’t in the cards today.

“Look. I just didn’t want to get my hair messed up,” you continued, trying to sound casual, but the words felt hollow in the small, enclosed space.

“Oh yeah…?” Damian murmured in disbelief, his voice thick with something darker. His eyes narrowed, and without warning, he bent down to your height, his rough fingers sliding up your jacket. You felt the fabric shift and the warmth of his hand against your side.

You swallowed hard, your hands instinctively bracing against his shoulders. Your nails dug into the fabric of his uniform as you tried to push him back.

“Pull the hood off,” he demanded, his hands working insistently to tug it up. You sputtered out protests, swatting at his hands, but Damian was relentless. “Habibti, let me see! Pull it up—let me see!”

Your grip on the hood tightened, your knuckles going white as you held on for dear life. But Damian’s concern bulldozed through any resistance you put up. He mumbled curses, and suddenly shifted tactics. Bending down, his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. He pinned you against the wall, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as your weight pressed into his hips.

"Damian, stop!" you groaned, trying to push him away.

But he ignored your plea, yanking the hood off. His eyes widened in shock as he took in the full extent of your injuries. Cuts and bandages marred your face, some fresh, others scabbing over. Dark bruises colored your cheek, spreading out like ominous clouds.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded, even though he was already cursing a certain spider vigilante in his head. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you. “Tell me who hurt you, and I’ll make them pay.”

“Baby, you’re being melodramatic. It’s just a few bruises,” you deflected, avoiding his gaze. “I’ll survive.”

“Plus, it’s not like you can just go around punching everyone who hurts me,” you huffed, wincing as you tried to pull your hood back up. Damian scowled and yanked it down again.

“Yes, I can.”

“Oh my god,” you said, raising an eyebrow and trying to stifle a smile. “I hate you so much.”

Damian tightened his hold, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Our relationship status says otherwise. And I’m not letting go until I get answers.”

You squirmed in his embrace, attempting to free yourself, but he held you tightly. “Seriously, let go.”

“No.”

“You’re going to miss your first period.”

“And?”

“Your education will be in ruins.”

“Beloved, my GPA is already at a 5.0. I’ve been at the top of my class since junior high. Missing one period won’t ruin my future.”

You groaned and grabbed the nearest object—a mop. Raising it in a mock-threatening manner, you declared, “I’m seriously considering hitting you with this until you let me go.”

Damian gave a flat “Tch,” raising a hand to the metal handle. With a casual squeeze, he bent the metal in half effortlessly. You blinked.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super, super hot.

“Seriously? You’re showing off now?” you huffed, crossing your arms.

“Showing off?” Damian arched an eyebrow. “I’m merely proving a point.”

“I can handle myself!” you insisted, frustration creeping into your voice.

“Clearly,” he shot back, eyes narrowing. “That’s why you’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped, your irritation bubbling over.

“I would be delighted to,” Damian replied, his tone dripping with syrupy sweetness that was equal parts enticing and infuriating.

"Ugh!" you groaned, pulling the hood back over your face in a futile attempt to hide.

“Drop the theatrics and tell me what happened,” he sighed, tugging the hood back down. “I need to know so I can handle it.”

“I already handled it! I just need some rest, okay?” you retorted, rubbing a hand over your tired eyes. "I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

Damian’s jaw tightened at your response, setting off alarm bells in his head. He’d need to dig deeper—because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that you weren’t giving him the full story.

"You're not telling me everything," he said firmly. "But I’ll find out. I always do."

“Uh-huh, sure," you said, rolling your eyes as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and yanked him closer. “You’re such a control freak, you know that?”

Damian scowled, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “And you’re impossibly stubborn.”

“Yeah, well, you’re nosy.”

“Nosy?” He raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking. “I prefer the term thorough.”

“Right,” you said, barely holding back a laugh. You shook your head with a smile and leaned in, brushing your lips against his. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

Damian’s eyes softened as he closed the distance between you. You melted into him, pulling him into a tender kiss. Damian hummed softly, the vibration tickling your lips and adding a cozy warmth to the moment. He kissed you again, and again, each one a little more affectionate than the last. Your laughter bubbled up, breathy and light, as you both got caught in a playful rhythm. His nose nudged against yours, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

The sudden ringing of the school bell cut through the moment.

“Mmph!” You pulled back slightly, a smile tugging at your lips as you gently stroked his cheek. “You… probably should get to class.”

It took a few more (okay, a lot more) minutes before Damian finally let you go. You practically had to wrestle your way out of his arms, like he was a kid clinging to a favorite toy. When you told him to go back to class instead of tagging along with you and Morgan, he sulked like a toddler.

Despite his stormy mood, you managed to convince him to head back. As you both stepped out of the closet, Damian trudged away with a grumble, throwing one last dramatic look over his shoulder.

“Behave yourself,” you laughed, waving him away before setting off to find Morgan.

When you finally spotted her by the entrance, she was holding up a flash drive like it was the Holy Grail. Meanwhile, you looked like you’d just been through a whirlwind: your hair was a tousled mess, your jacket was askew, and your tie was twisted at an odd angle. 

“Got the goods?” you asked, breathless as you straightened your tie and smoothed down your messy hair.

“Yep,” Morgan said with a grin, her eyes darting to your state of disarray. “Damn. A janitor’s closet, huh? I see it got pretty heated in there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, scoffing and giving her a kick to the shin. “Nothing happened, you ass. We were just talking. I had to practically wrestle my way out because he was going nuts over my injuries.”

Morgan chuckled, tucking the flash drive into her pocket. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full with him.”

You raised an eyebrow at her. "How did you know it was the janitor’s closet, anyway?"

“CCTV,” Morgan simply shrugged. “Was checking out the live feed for security. And I figured you two were up to something when I saw you both ducking out of the room. The system was laughably easy to hack into. I was honestly surprised.”

“You’re Tony Stark’s daughter,” you snarked. “Anything less than government-level encryption is basically child’s play for you.”

Morgan grinned. “True that. But there’s one tiny issue.” She raised a finger and twirled it in the air. “I might have tripped a few alarms.”

WEE-OWW-WEE-OWW!

The distant blare of sirens cut through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Red and blue lights began to flicker through the windows.

You stared at Morgan, incredulous. 

“What. What the fuck!? What did you do?”

“Let’s just say security’s gonna be a bit more interested in our location now. Oopsie!” Morgan’s grin widened. “I had to shut down some things to avoid detection. So, the power’s going to go out in 3…2…1.”

As she finished her countdown, the lights flickered erratically before plunging the hallway into complete darkness. A heartbeat later, the wail of the announcement system cut through the silence, urgently repeating, “Please evacuate the building. Please evacuate immediately.” The strobing red emergency lights cast frantic shadows, and chaos erupted as students screamed, darting from classrooms and colliding in the dark.

Morgan spread her arms wide, a triumphant grin plastered across her face as if she’d just dropped a mic. “Boom.”

“What the hell about this screams ‘stealth’ to you?” you whisper-shouted, grabbing Morgan’s hand and pulling her toward the exit.

Morgan’s eyes gleamed with excitement as she squeezed your hand in return. "It’s way more fun this way."

You both sprinted down the dimly lit corridor, your footsteps echoing through the hallways and mingling with the blaring alarms.

Turning a corner, you nearly collided with a group of students stumbling through the chaos. Their faces were masks of panic. One of them tripped, sprawling onto the floor with an undignified thud.

“Watch it! Are you okay?” you shouted, skidding to a halt and kneeling to help the fallen student.

Morgan, unable to hold back, burst into laughter. “Dumbasses!”

You shot her a half-angry, half-exasperated look. “Just get us out of here before we get arrested for public disturbance!”

“Right behind you!” Morgan said, grabbing your hand again and pulling you both into a sprint. As you neared the exit, the muffled voices of security personnel grew louder, rushing to restore power. With one last burst of speed, you burst through the exit doors, the alarms fading into the distance.

Morgan looked over at you, her face glowing with sweat and a victorious grin. “And that’s how you make an exit.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Friday - The Safehouse, Gotham City.

After your adrenaline-pumping escape and a bumpy ride across the city in an Uber that looked like it had seen better days—note to self: next time, cab— you finally made it back to the safehouse.

Morgan was already at the main table, surrounded by a chaotic sea of files and documents spread out across multiple screens. Her eyes were locked onto the flash drive she’d pulled from the school, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she sifted through the data.

A few steps away, you were hunched over a cluttered workbench in the tech area, surrounded by spools of web fluid and a mess of metal tools. The entire day had been spent tinkering, but finally, your whip project was coming together.

With a few final tweaks, you picked up the whip and gave it a few test swings. 

You couldn’t help but think back to when you were a kid, watching Selina work her whip with that effortless skill. You’d sit in the corner of the training room, eyes wide, totally mesmerized. She made it look so easy, so natural. Inspired, you’d sneak off to your room after her sessions, grabbing whatever you could find—a belt, a rope, anything that even remotely resembled a whip. You’d slam the door behind you and practice in secret.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror—awkward, stumbling, and kind of a hot mess—but you didn’t give a damn. You’d keep at it, again and again, dead set on matching her skill, even if it meant looking like a total idiot in the process.

CRACK!

Morgan jumped, her chair spinning around as she stared at you with wide eyes. You couldn't help but grin as you sauntered toward her, twirling the whip around your body. The webbing swirled through the air, curving gracefully around you in a move straight out of Catwoman's playbook. With a final flourish, you cracked it down onto the floor, the sharp snap echoing through the room.

Morgan’s ears flushed red, and she shifted in her chair, clearly taken aback. “Woah. That’s hot as fuck.”

You laughed, tossing her a wink. “Glad you think so. I was channeling my inner Catwoman.”

Still a bit flustered, Morgan cleared her throat and extended her hand. You placed the whip into her palm, and she inspected it closely, her fingers tracing the intricate details of your craftsmanship.

“Seriously, though,” she said, looking up at you, “Where’d you learn to handle a whip like that?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just a little bit of practice, you know? I’ve had some pretty good teachers.”

Your gaze then shifted to her screen, where a file on Ivy's toxins was open. Charts, chemical structures, and old lab notes cluttered the display.

“Thought you were going through Octavius’ files?” you asked.

“Oh, I was," Morgan handed the whip back to you with a shrug.

"But then I stumbled on this.” She pointed at the screen. “Insane, right? Did you know Gotham University lets their Botany majors examine Ivy’s toxins? There are detailed reports from student lab projects—college students analyzing some seriously dangerous stuff. Who thinks that's a good idea?”

You arched an eyebrow. “It’s Gotham University. Top in the country. They probably consider it a rite of passage. It’s not like the city holds back on the bizarre.”

Morgan shook her head, her disbelief morphing into a bemused smile. “Seriously, though, it’s even in their chemistry curriculum. ‘Advanced Chemistry: How to Survive Ivy’s Toxins 101.’ Like, what kind of class is that?”

You chuckled. “Sounds like standard Gotham fare. The city has a way of turning even the most mundane academic subjects into survival skills.”

As you stared at the file, your mind drifted to Ivy—Pamela Isley, who had once been a big part of your life. Back when she was close with Selina, you even used to call her Aunt Isley. It felt right at the time, natural, given how much she was around.

One memory stood out: Ivy had to leave town, and she’d entrusted Selina with her beloved plants. You were just a kid, but you remember how excited you were to have Ivy’s vibrant greenery filling the place. Selina had promised to take good care of them, but… she forgot. Just plain forgot to water them.

When Ivy returned, the plants were withered and dead. For someone like Ivy—an eco-terrorist with a green thumb so legendary she could probably make a cactus bloom in a snowstorm—this was more than just a mistake. It felt like a betrayal.

The fallout was brutal. Ivy was livid, and Selina was wrecked. If you hadn’t been there to calm things down, Ivy might’ve strangled Selina with a vine on the spot.

Morgan sighed dramatically, pushing her chair back from the screen and stretching like a cat. "I’m so over these files," she announced, spinning around to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "We need to do something fun."

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued as she started navigating through a map on her command center. "What are you up to?"

"Finding us a little adventure," she replied, her grin widening as she zoomed in on a spot on the outskirts of Gotham. "Look at this—an old, supposedly abandoned greenhouse. Rumor has it, it’s still full of Ivy’s plants. We should go check it out."

You blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. "You want to go trespassing in an abandoned greenhouse filled with potentially dangerous plants?"

Morgan shrugged with a carefree grin. "Why not? It’s way more exciting than sitting here with these boring files. Besides, think of the intel we could gather! Maybe even some samples. If you're serious about this hero thing, having some cures on hand could be pretty useful."

You raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, my focus was on tech companies. Not plants."

Morgan leaned back in her chair, throwing her hands up. "C'mon, it’ll be fun! We could call it a ‘field trip’ for our mission."

You scoffed, but a smirk tugged at your lips as you grabbed your glasses. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart and responsible one among the two of us?”

Morgan shot you a playful smile as she grabbed her jacket. “Smart enough to know when we need a break.”

She slung her jacket over her shoulder with a casual flick. “And who knows? We might stumble into something interesting or at least have a hell of a time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Fine, but if this turns into a mess, you’re the one explaining it to Tony.”

“Deal,” Morgan grinned, heading toward the door. “Now let’s get out of here before I lose my mind.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 12:34 AM - Ivy's 'Abandoned' Warehouse, Gotham City.

The moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the overgrown landscape as you swung through the rainy Gotham air. Raindrops pattered against your suit, mixing with the cool breeze as you guided both yourself and Morgan down toward the warehouse’s perimeter. You landed softly on the other side of the fence, the wet ground beneath you squelching slightly.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, shrouded in shadows and engulfed by a thick veil of greenery. Vines and creeping plants had swallowed the building, twisting their way up the walls and breaking through the broken windows. Shrubs and wild foliage sprawled across the once-smooth concrete, creating a tangled jungle that had overtaken the area.

You and Morgan navigated through the thick underbrush, your footsteps muffled by the lush carpet of foliage. 

“Welcome to the jungle,” Morgan whispered, adjusting her glasses as raindrops collected on the lenses. She reached for a flashlight, flicking it on to cut through the gloomy darkness.

“Did you really have to pick the creepiest spot in Gotham?” you muttered, glancing around warily. Your spider senses buzzed faintly, a low hum that told you to stay alert, though you weren’t entirely sure what you should be on the lookout for.

As you approached the warehouse’s entrance, you noticed the heavy wooden doors were slightly ajar, propped open by a stubborn vine wedged in the gap. You took a few steps back, then charged at the door with all your might. It crashed inward with a resounding clang, sending splinters flying and the vine recoiling.

CLANG!

You kicked the door aside and stepped into a scene that looked like something straight out of a botanical horror movie. The interior of the warehouse was a riot of green. Hanging plants and tendrils formed a dense canopy overhead. The remnants of old plant pots and scientific equipment were half-buried under layers of creeping vines and moss.

“Keep your eyes peeled for anything useful,” you said, stepping inside.

The plan was simple: infiltrate the location, gather as much information as possible, and leave before anyone even noticed you were there.

Your boots squelched slightly on the damp ground as you made your way further into the labyrinth of greenery. Morgan followed close behind, her flashlight beam scanning the surroundings.

“Looks like she really made herself at home. Can’t believe she’d leave all these beauties behind,” she murmured.

After a few minutes of searching, you stumbled upon a makeshift lab tucked away in a corner of the warehouse. Old tables and shelves, now covered in a thick layer of dust and grime, held an assortment of glassware, old notebooks, and strange samples.

Morgan’s eyes lit up as she approached the lab. “This must be it! Look at all this stuff.”

Kneeling down, she began sifting through the clutter, her flashlight revealing dusty glassware, faded notebooks, and a variety of botanical samples in various states of preservation. She carefully picked up a few jars, examining the contents with growing fascination.

You stood guard by the door, senses on high alert. The slow hum of your spider senses gradually intensified, morphing into a persistent, almost blaring buzz in the back of your mind. It felt like a magnetic pull, drawing your focus to every flicker of shadow and rustle of the unseen. 

Morgan, oblivious to your heightened alertness, was engrossed in a particularly worn notebook.

"This is so fucking cool," she said, her eyes wide with excitement. "Check out these notes—they look like they’re from Ivy’s earlier research. She was experimenting with ways to boost plant growth, mixing toxins, and even concocting some kind of antidote."

As Morgan continued to study the notebook, the buzzing in your senses grew stronger. You tensed, feeling a prickling chill race up your spine and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. There was something else in the warehouse—something you couldn’t immediately identify, but it was there.

“Morgan,” you said quietly. “I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Morgan looked up from her work, fingers curled around a test tube. “What do you mean?”

“Just keep your eyes open,” you warned, eyes narrowing as you scanned the shadows. “Start packing up and be quick. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Morgan’s fingers flew over the lab equipment as she grabbed several samples and shoved them into her bag. The air seemed to grow thicker, the plants rustling with an almost eerie liveliness.

!!!

“We need to go. Now!” you hissed, urgently grabbing Morgan and pulling her to her feet.

Morgan flinched but scrambled up, stuffing the worn notebook she’d found into her jacket. “Alright… let me just—”

Before she could finish, your spider senses exploded into a full-blown scream of warning.

DANGER.

“Get down!”

Without warning, you grabbed Morgan and pushed her down behind some crates, your suit beginning to uncloak.

A thick vine lashed out from the shadows, slamming into your side with a force that knocked the wind out of you. Pain exploded where the vine struck, radiating through your ribs as you skidded backward and crashed into a metal rack.

Your helmet hadn’t fully materialized in time, and the impact with the shelving unit sent a jarring shock through your skull, leaving you dazed and disoriented.

"A little spider has wandered into my web~"

Shit.

Warmth trickled down from your forehead where the impact had split the skin. With a shaky breath, you pushed yourself off the rack, using it for support as you steadied yourself.

"Hello, crazy plant lady," you quipped, your helmet materializing as the voice modulator kicked in.

You weren’t her estranged niece now; you were Nightcrawler, Gotham's latest hero.

From above, Ivy unfurled herself from the ceiling, smirking as she lounged on a sprawling leaf. Vines curled around her with languid grace, reacting to her slightest gesture as if extensions of her will.

"Ah, Gotham's newest little hero," Ivy's voice was a melodious yet chilling purr, her laughter echoing softly through the warehouse. "What brings you to my sanctuary?"

The slits in your mask narrowed as you drew your claws and unclipped your whip from your belt. Ivy’s eyes narrowed at the choice of weapons, a flicker of recognition in her gaze. She was clearly connecting the similarities between you and Catwoman.

"Oh, just swinging by to see what all the fuss is about. Heard you've been busy in Gotham."

Ivy's smile sharpened, a glint of admiration lighting up her emerald eyes.

"Hm. Spunk," she purred, hands moving to tangle in her hair. "I do appreciate that in my visitors."

Out of the corner of your visor, you spotted Morgan inching away. You gave her a discreet nod, signaling her to keep going while you kept your focus locked on Ivy.

"So, this place wasn’t as abandoned as I thought," you said, trying to keep Ivy talking and distracted. "For someone who supposedly retired from the spotlight, you sure know how to throw a party."

Ivy threw her head back and laughed. "Retired?" she repeated. "Oh, honey, you have no idea."

Around you, vines stirred, their sinewy tendrils snaking up your legs like snakes. Unfazed, you subtly shifted your weight, and then, with a swift slash of your claws, the vines split apart. You flipped away, slipping out of their grasp with ease.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice when my darlings are disturbed?” Ivy’s voice dripped with mockery. “Just when I finally manage to reclaim this space from concrete and steel, pests like you decide to get curious.”

“Look, I’ve got a busy schedule,” you quipped, narrowly dodging a lashing vine. “So how about we skip the tango and save us both a night of pain?”

“Oh, you’re simply delightful,” Ivy purred,sultry and chilling. “Very well, little spider. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

In a heartbeat, Ivy was in motion. Vines shot through the air like whips, each one aiming to entangle or strike. You sidestepped a thick vine that snapped past your ear and rolled under another that slammed into the floor where you’d just been. Your senses were on fire.

Beep!

In the corner of your visor, Morgan’s face flickered into view—a welcome sight amid the chaos. The camera feed was shaky, but you could make out her anxious expression as she huddled behind a stack of crates, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Are you okay?” you hissed through the comms, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of vines around you.

“M Outside! Sorry! I…I didn’t realize Ivy was here!” Morgan said, her voice tinged with panic. “I thought this place was a total ghost town!”

“Apologize later!” you shouted back, ducking a swinging vine. “Just stay out of sight. I’ll catch up with you once I deal with the plant lady!”

With a quick flip, you barely managed to dodge another flurry of whipping vines. You drew back your whip and snapped it towards the incoming tendrils, slicing through them. 

Ivy scowled, her eyes narrowing as she watched her plants get cut down. She retaliated, sending a fresh wave of vines hurtling toward you.

You dodged and weaved, the thick, green tendrils brushing against your suit. Each crack of your whip was followed by a sharp hiss of defeated foliage.

You charged through, ducking and weaving to avoid the onslaught. When you were close enough, you landed a solid left hook to Ivy’s face, the impact echoing with a satisfying thud. Ivy’s head snapped back with a sharp yelp of pain. You laughed, not giving her a moment to regroup, and threw another punch straight to her jaw.

JAB!

“Had enough, or should I keep going?” you taunted.

Ivy’s eyes flared with rage. “You little—”

Leaping onto a stack of crates to dodge another lash from her vines, you shot a web at Ivy. The sticky strands wrapped around her wrists, pinning her securely against a nearby support beam.

Ivy struggled against the webbing, her vines twitched with agitation as they lashed out. You kept your whip and claws at the ready, prepared for any sudden moves.

“Alright, listen up,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Unless you want more of your precious plants turned into mulch, I suggest you calm down.”

“Calm down?” Ivy hissed, her frustration barely contained. “You’re the intruder here, desecrating my sanctuary. I won’t tolerate this!”

You took a deep breath, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, I’m really sorry about the intrusion. Didn’t mean to step on your botanical toes. We were just here to explore—”

“Explore?” Ivy’s brow shot up. “Is that why your friend took of my vials and papers?”

You stared at her, blinking a few times. Then, with a sheepish shrug, you said, “Okay, to be fair, you left that stuff lying around. It kind of looked like it was up for grabs. Plus, we didn’t exactly see a ‘Keep Out’ sign.”

“So, it’s a case of ‘finders keepers,’ then?” she scowled. “And here I thought you were a little more refined than that.”

“Hey!” you said, walking towards her until you were just a foot away. “I’m just calling it like I see it, lady. Maybe if you knew how to clean up, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ivy tossed her hair over her shoulder, the golden-orange strands cascading like vines down her back. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against your jaw, her breath warm and tantalizing against your skin.

“Well, if you’re so keen on exploring,” she purred, her voice a sultry whisper, “I could show you something that’ll really satisfy your curiosity.”

!!!

Your spider senses flared with urgent warnings, but before you could react, Ivy thrust a slender vine beneath the edge of your helmet. In an instant, a cloud of pollen erupted inside your mask, catching you completely off guard. You gasped and choked, stumbling backward as your vision blurred and your nose was overwhelmed by the suffocating, heady scent of the pollen.

Your visor’s alarms blared, vitals flashing urgently:

TOXIN DETECTED.

“Damn it,” you grimaced as a searing heat began to radiate through your skin and bones. The prickling sensation quickly escalated into an intense burn, making it feel like your blood was boiling beneath your skin.

“Morgan!” you called out. “Find me an escape route, now!”

"Underestimated me?" Ivy cackled. "Thought you could resist my charms, did you?"

Morgan’s shaky voice crackled through the comms. “I’m searching for a way out! Just hang in there!”

“Oh, you won’t be escaping that easily,” Ivy sneered at you, still trapped in your webs. Despite her restraints, her vines writhed and twisted with a life of their own. “This is my domain, and you’re not leaving until I say so.”

You gritted your teeth, struggling against the searing pain as the vines inched closer. “Alright, I’m really sorry for this, but I’m done playing nice.”

With a sharp flick of your wrist, you shot a web at a vase perched precariously on a high shelf. The vase tumbled through the air and crashed down onto Ivy’s head, shattering into a shower of shards and a splash of crimson.

Ivy screamed as the shards rained down, a flurry of leaves and flowers cascading over her head and shoulders, momentarily obscuring her vision. 

Morgan's face reappeared on your visor, her brow furrowed with worry. “There’s a clear window—no vines blocking it! Hurry! I marked it on your map!”

Glancing at the map in your visor, you spotted the indicated window. 

"This was nice, but I’ve got places to be and people to save," you heaved, your voice breathy as you kicked away a lashing vine. "So if you don’t mind, I'll be taking my leave."

THWIP.

Launching yourself through the open window, you felt the cool, rain-soaked Gotham air slap your face as you soared into the night. The roar of the storm and the distant hum of the city below filled your senses. Behind you, Ivy’s furious shouts pierced through the downpour, her curses mingling with the crack of thrashing vines slamming against the walls.

“PEST!”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Saturday, 1:05 AM - Crime Alley, Gotham City.

"Robin, status?" Oracle's voice beeped in from Damian's earpiece.

Damian was perched on a rooftop, jade eyes scanning the dark expanse of Crime Alley below. The rain poured down in relentless sheets, the cold droplets cascading off the edges of his hood and dripping onto his shoulders.

From his vantage point, he could see the dilapidated buildings lining Crime Alley, their broken windows and graffiti-covered walls illuminated by the sporadic flashes of lightning. The streets below were deserted, the few brave souls out in the storm moving quickly, their faces obscured by umbrellas and hoods. Puddles formed in the uneven pavement, reflecting the occasional flicker of streetlights.

He lifted a gloved hand to his communication device, the wet leather squeaking slightly against the earpiece.

"I'm in my usual position," he reported, his voice steady. "No sign of activity. Just monitoring. Slow night."

"Figured," Nightwing's voice spoke up. "There is a storm."

“Ishth Gotham,” Jason's voice chimed in, muffled as if he was chewing something. “When isn’t there a storm?”

"Are you eating right now?" Tim's voice squeaked with disbelief, the sound sharp and incredulous over the comms. "Again? Really?"

"Yeah?" Jason retorted, taking another bite of whatever he was munching on. "A guy's gotta eat. Maybe if you actually ate more, you wouldn’t be so scrawny, Timberland."

"I'm fit!" Tim snapped back, voice cracking. "And can you please stop using my name? We have codenames for a reason."

"You're the genius who called yourself 'Drake'," Damian scoffed as he kept his eyes trained on the rain-soaked expanse below.

"Demon brat's got a point," Jason drawled, the sound of him slurping a drink faintly audible over the comms. "Harley still calls you Duck-Boy."

"Just focus on the job," Nightwing interjected, his voice slicing through the bickering with an authoritative edge. "Tonight’s a washout. Red Robin and I are on patrol near the docks. We’ve encountered a few low-level crooks, but nothing major."

"Alright," Oracle’s voice came through again. "Stay on high alert. Let me know if anything changes."

As the comms went silent, Damian pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up against the storm's backdrop. For a fleeting moment, his stoic expression softened. A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at his lips as he glanced at the lock screen—a picture of you, warm and content in one of his shirts, your face framed by tousled hair and a genuine smile.

He noted the time—1:05 AM. Given your unpredictable sleep patterns, you were likely still awake. Damian's finger hovered over the screen, caught between sending a quick message or making a call. But before he could decide, a sharp gust of wind swept across the rooftop, making his cape snap and sending a chill through his soaked uniform.

He slipped the phone back into his belt, shook off the cold, and refocused on the scene below. His eyes scanned the shadowy expanse: dark alleys, rain-slicked roads, and flickering, rusting shop signs.

Then, a sudden, unexpected movement shattered the monotony. A flash of red and white streaked across the skyline, its vibrant colors stark against the darkened sky. A web shot out, glinting briefly in the intermittent lightning before anchoring itself to a nearby building.

THWIP.

There was a pause.

Damian’s lips curled into a sharp snarl. His fingers tightened around the grip of his grappling gun, his mind shifting into high gear. With a scowl, he tapped his earpiece.

“Oracle,” Damian began, boots crunching as he moved to the edge of the rooftop. “I have visual on the spider vigilante. Engaging in pursuit.”

Without waiting for a reply, he fired the grappling gun. The line shot through the air with a metallic twang, slicing through the rain-soaked night. He felt the jolt as the grappling hook latched onto a distant anchor, pulling him forward.

As he swung through the storm, a fierce thrill coursed through him, like a bird unleashed with new wings. With the city sprawled out beneath him and the rain pelting against his face, Robin was ready to do what he did best.

Hunt.

 ༻⊰───⋅

"It's going to take hours to get this smell out of my suit," you heaved, wrinkling your nose as you fired a web into the distant skyline. The line stuck firmly to a building, and with a jarring lurch, you swung deeper into the city.

Morgan clung to you for dear life, her voice barely audible over the rush of air. “Not the time to worry about laundry! Focus on not crashing into something! And maybe on not dying from the poison?!”

"Hey, I’m just saying," you shot back with a strained chuckle, “if I survive this, I’m gonna need to have this suit professionally cleaned.”

Morgan’s grip tightened, and she shouted, “Survive first, clean later!"

With a yank of your web, you aimed for the next rooftop, but as you hurtled through the air, you realized that you’d miscalculated the distance. The rooftop was rushing in too fast, and panic surged through you like ice.

Your stomach lurched, and in a split-second decision, you threw Morgan forward, trying to cushion her fall. She landed with a thud, a breathless gasp escaping her as she hit the roof.

You, however, weren’t so fortunate. Your foot snagged the edge of the roof awkwardly, sending a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

CRACK.

The sickening crack of bone snapping echoed through the air as your ankle twisted violently. The force of the impact jolted your entire body, sending you sprawling onto the rough, gravelly rooftop.

“Great…” you muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to push yourself up onto your hands and knees. Your body felt like it was on fire from the inside out, the toxin’s effects amplifying the pain with each passing second.

You bit down hard on your tongue, the metallic taste of blood bubbling into your mouth. You fought to keep yourself upright, but your legs felt like lead, and you crumpled onto the rooftop, unable to fully bear your weight.

“Shit!” Morgan scrambled to her feet, her face a mask of panic and concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

"Just… a little off target," you panted, wincing as you assessed the damage. Your visor had taken a hit during the fall, causing the data to flicker erratically. Through the static, you could still make out the crucial info: a broken bone.

“It's fine… Just a broken ankle,” you added, trying to maintain your composure despite the sluggishness creeping into your movements. 

“You’re getting brain fog and dizziness,” Morgan said urgently, her fingers flipping through the notebook she’d snatched earlier. “It’s a side effect of the toxin. We need to get you to the safehouse—”

Before she could finish, you shook your head with a groan. “No. You call a cab and head there. I’ll swing.”

“Are you insane?!” Morgan nearly shouted, grabbing your arm in panic. “You can barely stand, let alone swing through the city! We need to get you help, now!”

You pushed her away, trying to ignore the throbbing in your ankle. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. The suit’s tampered, I think. Look.”

You attempted to uncloack, but the metal sputtered and glitched erratically. “See? I can’t uncloack. If you’re seen with me, they’ll find us out in no time. I can’t risk that.”

Morgan’s eyes darted between you and the malfunctioning suit, her face a mix of worry and frustration. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. I should have—”

“Stop,” you cut her off, wincing as the pain intensified. “It’s not your fault. Just get to the safehouse. I’ll manage.”

Tears of frustration welled up in Morgan’s eyes. “I can’t just leave you like this!”

“You don’t have a choice,” you said firmly, trying to steady your voice. “If we’re both caught, it’ll be worse. Now go! I’ll be fine.”

With one last, apologetic glance, Morgan pulled out her phone and dialed for a cab, her hands trembling.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Damian, concealed in the shadows of the rooftop, landed with a muted thud. He crouched behind the crumbling ledge of an old brick wall, the slits in his mask narrowing as he took in the scene unfolding just a few feet away.

He watched as you struggled to regain your footing, your movements pained and uneven. The girl beside you—her rain-soaked silhouette a blur against the storm—was clearly in a panic, her phone clutched tightly as she fumbled with it.

‘A civilian,’ Damian thought, frustration lining his features. Launching a direct attack now would be reckless. He had to be certain the vigilante was genuinely on their own before making a move.

After a tense moment, the girl finally moved and dashed down the fire escape, her figure barely visible through the downpour. Damian squinted through the sheets of rain, straining to catch a glimpse of her features, but the storm blurred his view into an indistinct smear of color and motion.

The moment she was out of sight, his attention snapped back to you. You took a deep, ragged breath, bracing yourself. Then, with a sudden burst of movement, you launched yourself into the night. 

Damian followed, his movements fluid and precise as he pushed off from the ledge. His cape billowed behind him like a dark, flowing banner, and he darted into the storm. 

Below, the streets were a chaotic blur of honking horns and glaring headlights, their harsh lights slicing through the darkness like knives. Heavy sheets of rain hammered down, obscuring your vision and drenching you to the bone. Water seeped through the cracks in your suit, each drop feeling like an icy needle against your overheated, feverish skin.

The sensations were overwhelming. It was too much. The pain, the heat, the storm—it was all too much.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, every inhale bringing more of Ivy’s insidious toxin into your lungs.

In one desperate swing, you miscalculated the web’s trajectory. It shot out too low, sending you plummeting uncontrollably below.

Cursing through gritted teeth, you were hurled down into traffic. Everything was a blur as you slammed into the side of a car, metal denting and screams deafening your ears. Your shoulder bore the brunt of the collision, sending shockwaves of pain through your bones.

For a brief, suspended moment, everything went dark.

A cold, mechanical voice sliced through the void, its tone harsh and insistent. Maggie’s synthetic voice, though devoid of human warmth, was tinged with urgency.

“Immediate response required. Vitals are critically low. Consciousness levels decreasing. Current status is life-threatening. Please respond.”

Abruptly, your senses snapped back into sharp focus. You jolted awake with a ragged gasp, your breath coming in frantic bursts. Your vision was a fractured mosaic of blinding lights and shadowy figures. The sounds of blaring horns and panicked shouts crashed back into your ears, tires screeching all around you.

Morgan’s voice crackled through the static, panic evident in her tone. “I’m at the safehouse! Where are you? I couldn't reach you! What’s going on?”

“Change of plans,” you managed, your voice strained. “I won’t make it to the safehouse in time.”

You tapped the side of your visor, making a map flicker to life through the cracks and glitches. The display was unstable, but it highlighted a route to your apartment.

“You know where my mom's apartment is, right?” you heaved. “That’s where I’m heading.”

Entering your apartment was risky, but with your condition worsening and death looming, it was the closest refuge you could manage.

Damian, hidden in the alleyway, watched you with a furrowed brow. What he initially wrote off as rookie mistakes now seemed out of character. Your disoriented movements were starkly different from the precise maneuvers he had seen in news footage and CCTV feeds. He had been tracking your case closely, and this chaos didn't match the profile he had built.

He watched as you struggled to stand, your legs shaking with each attempt. The driver's shouts were drowned out by the storm of noise around you. Your strained apologies were barely audible. Desperation marked your actions as you fired another web, using it to pull yourself up and away from the wrecked car and the angry crowd.

Damian cursed under his breath and quickly took off after you. 

He tracked your erratic path through twisted, narrow streets until he saw you aim for an apartment building. With a quick stretch of your arm, you shot a web toward a balcony, but your aim was off again.

Another sloppily thrown web sent you slamming into the windows of the apartment. The metal edge dug into your ribs with brutal force, knocking the wind out of you. You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to draw in air. Pain radiated from your side, and shards of glass sprayed everywhere.

Damian, perched on the rooftop across the street, stared in disbelief. This was Catwoman’s apartment—Selina Kyle’s. The worst possible scenario unfolded in his mind. To him, it looked like a break-in. His jaw clenched tightly, and his fingers gripped the edge of his grappling gun, knuckles whitening with the force of his anger.

Pest.

Without hesitation, Damian leapt into action. He aimed for the fire escape with single-minded intensity, propelling himself toward it with a powerful thrust. His boots hammered against the metal steps, causing them to buckle and the entire structure to groan and rattle under the force of his descent. 

In the corner of his eye, he saw your figure slip into the window.

Tunnel-visioned and driven by a surge of protectiveness, Damian kicked the door to the fire escape open, the metal panel scraping roughly across the floor. His father would have his head for causing unnecessary public damage—something Robin was frequently under fire for—but at that moment, he couldn't have cared less.

"Was that a crash?!" Nightwing's voice crackled through the comm line.

"I think it's coming from demon brat's side. What's the report, squirt?"

Damian merely growled in response as he began to stalk down the hallway. His tall figure, cloaked in shadows, cast long, dark lines across the floor as he moved. He cracked his knuckles, the sound sharp and menacing over the comms.

"Someone's about to learn the price of crossing me."

 ༻⊰───⋅

Dazed and disoriented, you slipped into the building, the rough edge of the window scraping against your battered body. As you tumbled through your apartment, you hit the floor with a heavy thud, the impact shaking your entire frame. Your head struck the ground with a thump, stars exploding in your vision.

For a brief, haunting moment, there was silence—deep, oppressive silence. Then, a cold, creeping dread slithered through you.

You clawed at the floor, your body shaking.

"Mom? Mom, please! I need you!" Your voice cracked, a raw, fear seeping through every syllable. "Mom, are you there? Please, help me!"

Tears streamed down your face, mingling with the sweat and blood as you cried out into the empty, echoing apartment. The lights were off, casting the space into a suffocating darkness that seemed to press in on you.

Desperately, you stumbled into Selina’s bedroom. Your heart sank as you noticed the absence of her suit—no sleek, black leather or whip. She must have been out on patrol.

A deafening crash shattered the silence as the apartment door was ripped from its hinges. Before you could fully react, a rough hand clamped down on you, throwing you to the floor.

Your vision blurred in and out of focus as you were pinned to the floor. A heavy foot pressed mercilessly against your chest, crushing your ribs with every breath. The weight lifted, then slammed down again, ripping through your suit with a sickening crunch. The suit uncloaked, its torn pieces clinging to your clothes, leaving you exposed in just your undershirt and pants.

Through the dim, flickering light, the outline of your attacker became clearer. A katana was unsheathed with a chilling rasp, its cold blade pressed menacingly against your neck. The steel gleamed ominously, catching the sparse light and reflecting a deadly shimmer. The edge was so close you could feel its icy touch, a mere breath away from slicing into your flesh.

The thought of that forced you to tilt your head back, exposing more of your neck to the shadowy figure looming over you.

Tall and imposing, the figure was clad in grey and black armor, with a black cape flowing behind them. A red emblem, unmistakably the symbol of an R, was stitched onto their chest.

A cold realization cut through the fog of pain and fear—Robin?

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dundunDUN

whatchu think bookiebears

surely the batfam will handle this well

[siddyyyyyyyy]

MASTERLIST (DRABBLES)

BAT FAMILY DRABBLES:

Batfam: Batboys Reacting To You Having a Kid 🌷 Past Careers 🌺 /🌷 Stubble 🌷

BRUCE WAYNE:

By the Fireplace 🌺

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader Summary: Finally snapping the sexual tension between you and your best friend.

Desperation 🌺

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader Summary: Bruce gets frustrated at the charity event and eventually takes it out on you once you are home.

New Side 🌺

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader Summary: After being hesitant about your suggestion, he finally gives in and tries a different way to release his pent up frustration.

JASON TODD:

Red Knight in Shining Armour one 🌷

Red Knight in Shining Armour two 🌷

Pairing: Red Hood x reader Summary: You ask Red Hood for help from a creep and he does so

Small Cuts 🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader Summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless

Don't tell Jason 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason thinks you're cheating, almost becomes a murder again, finds out you are just learning self-defense with Dick

Late Birthday 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason tries his best to be romantic

Safe Again 🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason safes you from being captured from Black Mask

Old Friends 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Supergirl!Reader Summary: You meet Jason again after not seeing each other for several years.

Unhinged one 🌷

Unhinged two 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: your roommate finds your messages you send your friend about him.

Nightmares 🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Comforting your boyfriend

Rivals with Benefits 🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: The star student of your college isn't what everyone thinks he is.

Father FIgure!Jason Todd (imagine) 🌷

You smoke? 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason finds you smoking weed for medical purposes

You Are My Muse 🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason finds his way to you (through accident)

Friendly Neighbourhood 🌷

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Befriending his neighbour gets out of hand.

On The Rescue 🌷

Pairing: Red Hood x firefighter!reader Summary: Red Hood starts to fall for a firefighter, however, it's difficult

Flashbacks 🌹

Pairing: Father!Jason Todd x Teenage!reader Summary: You get captured by a past villian, but your father saves you.

Past Curfew 🌷

Pairing: Father!Jason Todd x Teenage!Reader Summary: You forget to tell your dad about going out and get home back late.

Too Late🌷/🌹

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Summary: Jason was poisoned during his patrol and doesn't realise until he is at your place.

DAMIAN WAYNE:

Rockstar Girlfriend 🌷

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader Summary: You're Damian's girlfriend, and his family wants to visit your concert

Graceless 🌷

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: Being in a Gala his father threw with your dear boyfriend. Also, sneaking out from it.

Is this Witchcraft? 🌷

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader Summary: small prank teehee

Strange Kind of Humour 🌷

Pairing: Older!Damian Wayne x reader Summary: you hate bugs

Comfort 🌷

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Batsis!Reader (Platonic) Summary: Your younger brother tries to comfort you when sick.

DICK GRAYSON:

Pretty Saviour 🌷

Pairing: Nightwing x reader Summary: You save Nightwing and Batman one night in a close call, being stuck with Dick forever

Drink the Potion! 🌺

Pairing: Fairy!Dick Grayson x Reader Summary: Dick Grayson accidentally turns into a tiny fairy and you take care of him.

Father figure!Dick Grayson (imagine) 🌷

Father!Dick Grayson (part 2) 🌷

Lost child 🌹

Pairing: Father!Dick Grayson x Teenage!reader Summary: You secretly create a vigilante persona, even though your dad forbid it.

No Loss, No Love 🌹

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Batsis!Reader Summary: What does it feel like when no one around you seems to notice you anymore? Will you fight for attention and recognition or go under?

TIM DRAKE:

Only Friends 🌷

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You both get flustered during an interview

Since When?! 🌷

Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: Batfam finds out Tim has a partner

DUKE THOMAS:

Lucky 🌷

Pairing: Duke Thomas x Reader Summary: Your brother's best friend likes you, but won't dare to actually do anything.

New Member! 🌷

Pairing: Duke Thomas x Goth!reader Summary: Goth!reader has dinner with the Batfam!

ROY HARPER:

Brother's best friend 🌷

Pairing: Roy Harper x Reader Summary: Best friend of your brother really likes you, and you finally cave in

Unfocused 🌷

Pairing: Roy Harper x Reader Summary: Jason is fed up with how unfocused Roy is getting.

PLATONIC

New Home 🌹

One Messed Up Bat 🌹

Just Protecting 🌷

←MAIN MASTERLIST