#ivy's cuddle pollen

[rainbow-universe]

my shadow (it follows behind)

there's just no turning back

part 3/3

Gotham has lost the Joker. GCPD doesn’t know how he escaped from Arkham Asylum or when. Your team is called in to find him, and figure out what he might be up to, or even if he’s still alive. chapter summary: Poison Ivy thinks you owe her and Harley for covering for you and taking the blame for the Joker's death. She takes her vengeance in the form of hitting you with one of her pollens. A cuddle pollen. Criminal Minds x DC Crossover Week Day 7 - Sunday, February 9th Backstory Reveal || Undercover Justice League || Profiling a Rogue/Bat || "Life is a hell of a thing to happen to a person." part of @criminalmindsxdc 's CM x DC crossover week!!

Implied future Aaron Hotchner/Reader, feat. Jack Hotchner, this is very self-indulgent domestic fluff, just a very soft scene for Reader :))

(Takes place sometimes after chapter 2, Reader left the Manor to return to DC when Ivy hits them with the pollen)

title from an Alec Benjamin song

cross-posted on ao3

wc: 1.9k

part one // part two

You stumbled down the street and you were at his door before you realized. You paused before knocking, self-doubt and embarrassment overwhelming the cold in your chest.

You could’ve gone anywhere.

You could’ve gone back to the Manor where you’d just left, filled with people you trusted. But you didn’t want to intrude, not after the bombshell you’d just dropped. (They wouldn’t mind, and at the very least Dick would help you out, but the overthinking got to you.)

You could even have gone to Penelope’s. You knew she’d love to help you to, but you thought she might be with the others, or have them over, and you didn’t want to see too many people right now. (And the overthinking got to you.)

So here you were. Outside the door to your boss’s apartment. Hesitating to knock. (You weren't sure why the overthinking hadn't stopped you from coming here.)

Another shudder wracked your body and you forced your shaking arm to reach out and tap on the door.

Hotch answered and frowned when he saw you. He said your name, concerned.

“’m sorry, I didn’t know where to go, ‘m sorry ‘m intruding,” you mumbled, the cold making you half delirious.

“Come in.” You saw his brow furrow as he stepped back to let you through.

Jack obviously heard you and came racing around the corner and launched himself into your arms.

You caught him, easily.

Of course, you did. Aaron always worried about Jack, but he needn’t too much with you. You always caught him, always caught whoever threw themselves at you. It fascinated him in a way, how aware you were sometimes, always anticipating, preparing, always noticing the people around you … You fascinated him.

What worried him now though, was the way you shuddered when you caught Jack and hugged him back. The crease between your brows as if you were in pain, worried him.

“Jack-”

“No, it’s ok,” you said immediately, it wasn’t Jack causing the pain then. Maybe it wasn’t a physical pain bothering you?

“What are you doing here?” Jack asked.

“Uh-”

“Me and Dad were going to have a movie night, can you join us?”

Your eyes flicked to Aaron’s, and he gave a slight nod. Whatever was going on with you, he didn’t want you leaving when you were so obviously not ok. He'd never seen you like this before. It worried him.

“Ok,” you agreed softly.

Jack wiggled out of your arms and Aaron clocked another shiver of pain your body gave when he left. That was interesting and concerning.

Jack was a bright kid, he noticed a lot, and even if he didn’t understand what was going on (Aaron didn’t either), he quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him.

“Shoes, Jack!” You resisted his tug to slip your shoes off, wobbling and reaching out automatically to grab something for balance. You hand landed on Aaron’s arm, he nodded, letting you know it was ok. Balance restored, you quickly slipped your other shoes off and allowed Jack to pull you over to the couch.

Aaron returned to the kitchen, to get the snacks together, watching you and Jack as he worked.

You were subdued but engaged, following Jack with your eyes attentively from where you were curled up on the couch, having been placed there carefully and left with a blanket on your lap.

Jack rambled on about different movie options, bringing a couple back to the couch to curl up next to you and prattle on about them in more detail.

You answered softly every once in while, but Jack took over most of the talking, picking up on the fact that you weren’t in much of a talking space right now.

Aaron carried over a bowl of popcorn and a plate of cookies (it was a special occasion he decided) and placed them on the coffee table.

“We’re watching Cars,” Jack announced.

“Ok, buddy, I’ll get it set it up.” He took the movie from his son and went to put it in the DVD player. When it was ready he returned to the couch.

“You can sit there, Dad,” Jack said, pointing to your free side.

He smiled at his son’s antics.

Jack didn’t know what was going on with you, but he was smart enough that he noticed how cold you looked and took full initiative to make sure you were squashed between him and Aaron.

You gave him a small smile when he hesitated, to let him know it was ok, so he sat next to you, letting his shoulder, arm and thigh press against yours.

You shivered again, but this time at least, it seemed to be from getting slowly warmer.

Jack tugged at the blanket and you helped him pull it up and lay it across the three of you. Aaron pressed play.

Not even halfway through the movie Jack had shifted so he was sprawled across your lap (“To be able to reach the cookies better,” he said as if he hadn’t given them to his dad to hold moments earlier), halfway through the movie he was across both your and Aaron’s laps, and three quarters of the way through he was asleep. Comforted by your and Aaron’s warmth on either side of him and your hand softly carding through his hair.

You stayed like that for the rest of the movie.

When the credits rolled Aaron took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

You mimicked his breath before answering. “Ivy, Dr. Isley … wasn’t so happy about being bothered today. She decided to … inconvenience me. ‘Could’ve been worse though, so don’t worry too much.”

“What did she do?” Aaron’s voice hardened. She'd gone after you? Alone? In revenge?

You huffed a laugh, apparently finding a meta villain attack on you funny. “It’s fine, it’s nothing permanent, no harm done.”

You’d just barely stopped shivering and Aaron wasn’t so sure that if you were left alone now it wouldn’t resume. “What did she do?” he repeated, softer this time. He was worried, god damn it, you were a part of his team, of course he worried, let him worry.

You shrugged, careful of the sleeping boy across your lap. “Hit me with a pollen.”

“What kind.”

You huffed again but answered, “A cuddle pollen. Makes you really cold. Only cure really is human contact.” You swallowed. “So thanks. For this. It helped.” You kept your gaze on Jack, where you were still combing through his hair gently.

“You didn’t stay in Gotham?” was his first thought. You’d told Aaron and the team you were going to visit people, surely someone there would’ve helped?

You shoulders tensed infinitesimally. Your throat bobbed as you searched for an answer.

“No,” you finally said. “Thought about going to Penelope, but didn’t want to see anyone else if they were over. Or if she wasn’t there. Don’t know why I came here.” You voice was soft. You shrugged. “Or maybe I do. Just don’t want to admit it.”

Aaron didn’t say anything, and you lapsed into silence.

Jack murmured in his sleep.

“Should get him-”

“He should-”

You both said at the same time.

You laughed quietly. “Yep.”

Aaron disentangled himself from Jack and stood.

You took the blanket from your lap and wrapped Jack into a burrito. Aaron couldn’t help but smile at the sight, especially when you looked up at him and smiled back, eyes crinkling in such a you way.

“What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Ok,” you laughed softly. You seemed more … open, energized, comfortable than before and Aaron was glad you felt he was someone you could trust and come to for help. (Why did it fill him with such pride and affection?)

You gathered Jack closer to your chest and shifted to the edge of the couch to stand up.

“I can-”

“It’s ok, I don’t mind,” you said when you stood up. You froze and looked at him with wide eyes. “Unless you want to, he’s your kid-”

“It’s ok. I trust you.”

You blinked. “Oh. Ok. Thanks.”

“You’re good with him. Jack. You’re good with kids,” he said, because he didn’t know what else to say. And maybe he didn’t want you to leave yet either.

You laughed softly and shrugged. “I guess. I try at least, I have a few … younger siblings and cousins and friend’s kids.”

“Some that haven’t come in to the office yet,” he joked.

You snorted. “Not even close.”

That answer made him wonder just how many siblings did you have? How big was your family?

“C’mon,” he said and led the way slowly to Jack’s room, walking more beside you than in front.

You set him down in the bed and Aaron tucked him in and kissed him on the forehead.

You had a soft look on your face when he stood up. You exited the room silently and Aaron closed the door behind him.

“Thank you. For tonight. I appreciate it,” you said, fidgeting with your hands.

“Anytime.”

You glanced at him.

“You can come to me anytime, for anything,” he promised.

You gave a small smile. “I know. I trust you.”

“Would you like to stay?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. (Not that he hadn’t been thinking about it since he found you outside his door.)

Your eyes widened. “What? Hotch, you don’t-”

“Aaron, please. … We’re not at work. It’s ok, I’m sorry to spring this on you, I … don’t want you to get hurt, don’t want something bad to happen to you.”

He wore his stern and concerned boss mask for a moment, and you knew how worried he was.

It made sense, you’d shown up out of the blue, something clearly wrong and not explaining until later. It made sense he was worried because technically you were attacked by a supervillain. Not that this attack was that vicious, it was petty if anything, but that wasn’t something a non-Gothamite could really understand. (Or maybe anyone who wasn’t your family. Having the family you did kinda screwed with your perception sometimes.)

“Your couch was very comfy,” you hedged, in lieu of an actual answer.

He nodded. “I’ll grab more blankets.” And was off before you could thank him.

You set up the couch together silently.

“I have … you could borrow some clothes for pyjamas if you’d like,” Hotch- Aaron said when you’d finished.

You nodded. “Ok.”

You followed him to his room and hovered in the doorway as he went to his dresser to grab some options.

You selected what you wanted and hurried to the bathroom to hide change into the pjs.

There was a knock on the door. “There’s spare toothbrushes in the left drawer, feel free to take one, let me know if you need anything. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you responded so softly you weren’t sure he could hear you. You listened to his feet pad back to his bedroom.

You were in deep. (Deep what? Trouble? Something else? Something you didn’t want to admit to anyone, much less yourself? Yes, very likely.)

You changed and brushed your teeth, folded your clothes, and made your way back to the living room. You placed your clothes on a chair and climbed onto the couch, under the covers.

You lay there. Thinking about your day, trying not to think about your day, the case, your family, your confession, the pollen, ending up at the Hotchner’s … It’d been busy and exhausting since the Joker had been announced missing. But it was over now, and you were safe here.

You breathed in. You breathed out. Focusing on your breathing and quieting the rushing thoughts. (They were a tomorrow problem.)

You listened to the sounds of the apartment until you fell asleep.

~~~

thanks for reading!! feel free to rb and leave nice comments <3

[quotidian-oblivion]

trick or treat!

ask box trick or treat

Hii! Omg, okay so, here's another one of my unposted wips:

“The pollen Ivy sprayed Red Robin with,” Joker said quietly, a grin taking over his features, “calls for the first person to touch him to sit with him until the pollen leaves.” The Bats all stared at him with skepticism. “Harley honey told me about it once. But... it’s your choice.” Joker let go of Tim’s wrist and Tim fell to the floor, screaming and reaching out for the Joker, ignoring Bruce, tears resuming and making their way down his cheeks. “You let Red Robin suffer, or…” Joker’s grin grew wider with more glee. “You let me help him.”

It's angst :D

[danidoodels]

no Tim it wont go away- no, its not just pollen you gotta tell someone-TIM NOO-

[toriafiction]

In a lot fics Ivy is either throwing around sex pollen indiscriminately or even maliciously but what if it was by total accident?

She is still in the experimental stage with this new pollen enhancement. She doesn't even know what all effects it will have. There is no way she is going to use it until she does.

Cue nosey Bats snooping around in her lab, poking into things they shouldn't be, and dosing themselves with it then fleeing. Cue Ivy's lab results finishing at just that moment showing that what was once innocent cuddle pollen is now some monstrous mind-shattering sex pollen.

Sex pollen that just infected two little birds that she has known since they were in pixie boots and neon yellow capes, believing in magic and goodness and that nothing could ever clip their wings.

Cue Ivy rampaging through Gotham looking to actually save those two moronic birds.

"No, Batman not right now. I'm trying to save your two oldest idiots!"

Cue Ivy finding them in a very compromising position and filling with cold dread and sharp painful regret as she apprehends them and drags them back to her lab, keeping them separated the whole time.

Cue her calling Harley before she even starts trying to make an antidote. These boys are going to need therapy, all the therapy, and she doesn't know or trust anyone else. She's going to need therapy for what she's done to them.

Harley's fist assessment of, "They're just really horny for each other," does nothing to help her.

After Ivy manages to flush the toxins from their systems and Harley is actually able to talk to them and she comes back with the same assessment with an added, "Really they owe you a thanks," she breaks down crying in frustration. relief

She didn't clip any wings. She didn't end any more of their magic and the good it brings.

[kopivm]

Getting this out here so I could actually start a draft

Tim unknowingly gets hit with a cuddle pollen, he lives with the consequences of not getting cuddles (bcs he's busy as shit), but as soon as he figures out what's wrong with him, he's too ashamed and he feels like it's too late to come clean at this point so he just suffers with his 'mystery illness' for a few days and Bruce has ran the entire villain lineup ragged trying to figure out who and what they did to his boy until Ivy (now just a civilian) hears about it and is like,

"oh... that might have been me, my bad"

Because Tim visited her for WE business and was snooping around her plants and might have unknowingly got some pollen on him.

Anyways it ends with Bruce just hugging the shit out of Tim (because he's extremely relieved that nothing major was going on with him) and the rest just sorta fit themselves into the pile and Tim is crying because he doesn't feel like he's being burned alive anymore.

[maybe-in-another-universe]

thinking about this one fic i read forever ago where tim got hit with cuddle pollen and it affected him worse because he was touch-starved as a child. i remember him calling bernard and telling him and bernard thinking offhandedly to himself that cuddle pollen was the cruelest of all of Ivy’s pollens. honest to god that quote and concept has been in my head ever since and when i think of it i just feel the tragedy of having all that past trauma you had, and in a way have healed from, coming right back. it also made me headcannon that ivys cuddle pollen hits tim worse than the rest of the batfam.

[queeniewithabeanie]

The Weatherman

Dpxdc Prompt #22

There's a new weatherman in Gotham, only he seems to report on everything except for the weather.

—————————————————

"And for today's forecast we've got an Arkham breakout on our hands. Not to worry though! It's only Harley and Two-Face this time. Harley's currently dating Ivy so there may be some cuddle pollen spread around, but no psycho killer episodes!"

"If you live in Two-Face territory you may, as always, want to carry a rigged coin with you, but his escape seemed rather low-key. It's unlikely he's going to be trying anything soon."

"Bats to look out for tonight are the Dynamic Duo, Red Hood, and Batgirl. Nightwing's currently hanging out in our sister city of Bludhaven, Black Bat is still who knows where, Red Robin is not allowed to be patrolling for too many sleepless nights, and there's not enough crime tonight to pull Signal onto the nightshift."

"Make sure to watch the roads, because it seems Batgirl is still trying to drive the Batmobile whenever Batman is distracted. Other that the weather will be full of smog, dust, and clouds as always. Stay sharp Gotham, signing off—Danny Fenton, your weatherman."

Tim is going to tear out his hair.

Wait no, Tim isn't going to do that because that means smiley-enigmatic-weatherman Danny Fenton will win.

The new addition to the Gotham news team has been both a blessing and a curse for the Bats.

He almost never reports about the weather, not that there is much to report with it staying practically the same, or being affected by villain attacks rather than natural causes.

Fenton has decided that means he should report on villain attacks of the day. Which on it's own wouldn't be a problem, awareness of attacks saves lives.

No, the problem is he somehow has access to information not even the Bats have and reports on attacks before they happen. He also seems to have an acute knowledge of what's going on with the Bats everyday as well and it's driving Tim crazy.

Is he prophetic? Does he have an informant? Is he just somehow a better detective than the World's Greatest?

Fenton always keeps up the most goofy grin as he spouts information that he should not have access to and Tim is going to crack this case if it's the last thing he does. Its almost as if the weatherman is taunting Tim on purpose.

—————————————————

When Danny got a job offer for the news station in Gotham he decided to bring a little bit of home with him. He's also trying to see how quickly he can make one of the Bats go gray—or bald he's not picky.

He bets its gonna be Red Robin, the guy can't stand not knowing everything.

[burgundywing]

Bats and their least favourite Rogues to deal with (other than Joker of course)

Bruce hates dealing with Two-Face, mostly because of knowing and valuing Harvey as a friend and he feels a sense of guilt that he wasn't able to save the man.

Damian does not enjoy fighting Poison Ivy as he actually agrees with many of her ideologies, and cannot always fully convince himself she's not going about it the right way. Ivy knows this and loves to use it against him. Damian is also not fond of her cuddle pollen as it allows his overbearing older brother to latch onto him like the limpet he is with a viable excuse.

Tim HATES Hatter. Losing control of your mind is basically Tim's worst nightmare. The Joker Junior incident only adds fuel to his mind control terrors. Whenever Hatter gets out the rest of the family has to keep an extra close eye on Tim who tends to give up sleeping in order to put Hatter back in Arkham.

Scarecrow is the least favourite of both Dick and Jason. Although every member of the batfam have their fair share of traumatic memories, Dick and Jason always find reliving theirs hardest to shake off. Any loud thumps after set both of them off, Dick thinking yet another person has hit the floor and Jason thinking it was yet another strike of the crowbar.

Stephanie is terrified of Professor Pyg. He is not as loud and demanding of attention as the rest of the Rogues so the others never consider him as the worst but there is something about him that makes her absolutely sick to her stomach. She's had one close encounter with him and never wants to see him again. If she's a little quick to let someone else take a case that may involve him that's nobody else's business but hers.

Cass is not a fan of Riddler. She is the least equipped to deal with his games as she cannot fully grasp the double meanings of many English words and Riddler has very confusing body language to read. Cass does not like feeling useless and Riddler is terrifying in his own right so being completely unequipped to stop him is not something she enjoys.

Duke hates Condiment King. And Kite Man. Such B-list villains but of course with his luck they always escape on the day shift. Mustard and ketchup are incredibly difficult to get out of the cracks in his armour and Kite Man is annoying and has an unfortunate habit of picking him up and DROPPING HIM. Duke's over it.

[dclovesdanny]

Accidental Kidnapping x Cajun Fudge

After the reveal, Jack divorced Maddie. He couldn’t accept her hatred of their son, and her suggestion to experiment on their son was the last straw.

Moving to Gotham was nice. He was a mechanic now, and both of his kids were happy and going to school. He was even friends with a couple of his neighbors.

However, he couldn’t pay attention sometimes, which meant when the alert about Poison Ivy causing havoc, he was oblivious and walked home as normal. Which lead to him getting caught up in the attack.

The batfamily was going through a lot.

Bad News: Poison Ivy was causing chaos, and Harley and Killer Croc were joining her. (Apparently there was a group causing problems for the environment, who were going around and calling people freaks and “Ecto contaminated”. These guys were also something the Batfam was watching, because they definitely seemed creepy. And who wears all white in Gotham?)

Worse News: Poison Ivy had a “surprise pollen” that Harley worked with her on that could cause multiple different things, and affected everyone differently. And a civilian got hit

Good News: The civilian seemed to be only hit with a version of cuddle pollen and didn’t attempt to harm them.

Weird News: The civilian beat up the white suited men and proceeded to cuddle the shit out of Killer Croc, forcibly spooning him.

Now, they had a bunch of unconscious unknowns all over the place, a civilian who was cuddling a confused Killer Croc, and a similarly confused Poison Ivy and Harley who were trying to get the civilian to let the giant homicidal croc man go.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SEVEN: INHIBITION (OR LACK THERE OF)

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ The three C's (carnival, chaos, and cuddle pollen). Jon lets you drag him away, looking back to see Damian squinting at him through the mask. Making your way out of the venue you catch onto Ivy’s parting words. "In a world of violence and chaos, my cuddle pollen offers a moment of peace, a false but blissful reprieve. It's almost poetic, isn't it?" Fuck. Your. Life. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: mentions of having sex (as a joke/none is actually had), cuddle pollen (kind of non-con cuddling and kissing, but reader really doesn't mind) wc: 4.4k

Nari wakes you up by screeching in your ear. You groan and roll over, snatching him up and gently throwing him off the bed. You sit in bed and contemplate if you really have to get up and function as a normal person, but alas, you do. Grabbing your phone, your eyes widen a tad. Jesus, you slept till ten? Good thing it’s the weekend.

You have the day off from work, so it’s up to you to find something to do. You feed Nari, making sure to give him a bunch of apologetic kisses. Maybe you’ll swing by the Den today. It won’t hurt to work some more on the badassium.

You groan and stretch, doing some warm-up exercises. Nari perches on your back as you do push ups. He weighs nothing, but it’s the thought that counts. Karen pipes up from your laptop.

“I’ve done you the liberty of adding Victoria’s contact info on your phone.”

You release a fond sigh. “Bit of a meddler, are you?”

“I am simply saving us time.” You snort. You grab your phone, changing Victoria’s name and shoot her a text.

sugar mommy

whats good how we doing

i dont need anything just wanted to say hi

also its [name] btw

Her response comes a minute later.

[Name]???

How did you get my number?

karen did

shes kind of my guy in the chair

does all the super cool behind the scenes stuff yknow how it is

I thought I was your ‘guy in the chair’

fym ur my sugar mommy

Her only response is a money bag emoji, making you chuckle. She’s got personality and it makes you smile. A knock at the door catches your attention. Probably May coming to make sure you’re not dead. She’s gotten used to leaving early now. The lock clicks as you open the door.

Oh, it’s not May. It’s Jon .

“Jon!” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles, a friendly one. “Hi, [Name]. I was just visiting Dami, but he seems to be in a mood… so I was wondering if we could hang out?” he asks, hopeful. “If that’s okay with you?”

You coo internally. You’ll never get over how sweet he is. “Yeah, of course. Just text me next time, yeah?”

He nods, stepping inside as you open the door for him. Nari trots over to him and rubs against his ankles. “What time did you get up? I don’t think Metropolis is that close to GC.” You feel a little evil, putting him on the spot because you know he flew here.

He pauses, thinking of an appropriate answer. “Uh, I don’t know. Six, maybe?” he winces, hoping that answer makes sense. You don’t have it in you to do the mental calculations so early in the morning, so you nod. You wouldn’t actually out him like that, anyway.

“Got any ideas are we just gonna have hot sex the whole day?”

Jon, to his credit, only lightly blushes. He’s long gotten used to your sense of humor. “There’s that carnival that just opened.”

“Mmm, maybe later. Carnivals always look better when it’s dark.”

“Then…” he thinks, “...let’s just go for a walk. See what we find.”

You grab your keychain with far too many charms on it and your other essentials, hooking your arm in Jon's. “Lead the way.”

May doesn’t have any outward reaction save for a knowing look as you exit the building. You squint your eyes at her in response. The noise of the city greets you as you walk out. People around you go on with their days, each living their own complex life.

It’s silent for a moment as the two of you walk. You take the moment to just think for a moment. You thought life was crazy when you found out you had crazy spider powers, but then you turned it around and made it into something good. You thought life was crazy when you got asked to officially join the avengers, but then you found a family in them. You thought life was crazy when you found out about the ‘spider verse’, but from that you realized you weren’t alone. You should’ve known better than to think it couldn’t get any crazier than that, but here you are. Very far from home.

You just wonder what will come out of this .

“You’re quiet,” Jon notes, voice barely a murmur.

“Just thinking.”

“That’s not good,” he jokes. You scoff and consider flicking him, but it would probably hurt.

“Just thinking how hard it’ll be for Damian to look me in the eye the next time I see him.”

Jon raises a brow. “What… happened between you and Damian? Is that why he was in a mood?”

“So crazy story, he walked in on me making out with my kind-of bully.” Jon’s eyes widen incredibly. His pace stutters and he chokes on air. You grin as you watch his flail. “Making out might be generous, but it was pretty passionate.”

You continue, “God, you should’ve seen the look on his face. He genuinely stopped functioning for a sec! He’s a bigger virgin than I thought. Or maybe it was just that it was with Tori of all people. It’s okay though, she’s not all that she seems.”

Jon stops walking altogether, accidentally yanking you to a stop as well. You blink at him.

“Ok…” he starts, “first of all, you kissed your bully?” he asks incredulously.

“Well, like I said, she's not all that she seems,” you shrug. He nods, still looking at you in disbelief.

“So… what? Are you guys… dating?” he hesitates to say the word.

You scratch your nose, looking down. “Nah… we talked it out, she uh…” you trail off, “...it was a spur of the moment thing, we’re just friends. Now, anyway.” You feel bad saying you rejected the girl who was in love with you, but you also can’t say everything that went down.

You look at Jon, seeing him also looking down in thought. His brows are furrowed, you wonder how strange it is to Damian if it’s so strange to Jon. He nods after a bit, continuing his walk. His arm holds yours a bit tighter.

“You’re the strangest person I’ve ever met,” he laughs disbelievingly.

Probably because this isn’t your universe. “Probably because I’m so awesome all kinds of people want a piece of me.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late,” you grin.

For as drab as Gotham City is, at least this carnival provides a little bit of color. The vibrant lights provide an enchanting atmosphere. You can’t help but grin. Jon watches you with a smile.

“What do you want to do first?”

“Pie eating contest.”

He blinks. “Okay?” He’s a little confused by your quick and confident reply. Now don’t be alarmed, you usually eat three meals a day. The meals are just… well, some might argue if they’re actually meals or not. Tony estimated that you should be eating five proper meals a day to combat your increased metabolism. You’re not starving or anything as you are now, but if you ever get injured your increased healing won’t help.

“I wanna eat,” is your only explanation as you drag him to the stand.

Jon chuckles as you drag him along, his smile widening at your enthusiasm. “Alright, I’ll join you,” he smiles, matching your energy. The two of you approach the stand where a small crowd has gathered around a makeshift stage. A lively carnival barker stands at the front, rallying contestants and spectators alike.

“Step right up, folks! Who’s got what it takes to be the pie-eating champion of Gotham tonight?” the man announces enthusiastically, his voice carrying over the excited chatter of the crowd.

You and Jon sign up eagerly, taking your places at the contestant table. The rules are simple: eat as much pie as you can within a set time limit. The pies, piled high with whipped cream and fruity filling, look delectable under the carnival lights.

The contest begins, and you and Jon dig in with gusto. The pies are delicious, each bite bringing a burst of sweet flavor. The crowd cheers and laughs as you both devour your way through the pies, alternating between bites and glances at each other, each trying to outpace the other.

Jon manages to finish his first pie just as you’re halfway through yours. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, grinning at you challengingly. “You’re pretty good at this,” he remarks between bites.

You flash him a competitive smirk, determined not to be outdone. “I eat a lot,” you quip back, mouth full of pie.

The contest continues, the pace quickening as the time ticks down. Cheers and encouragement from the crowd spur you on, adding to the thrill of the competition. Despite the messiness and the rapidly filling sensation in your stomach, you keep going, driven by the desire to win and the sheer enjoyment of the moment.

Finally, the timer buzzes, signaling the end of the contest. You and Jon set down your forks, breathing heavily but grinning broadly at each other. The man approaches to determine the winner.

“And the winner is…” he declares dramatically, waiting. After a tense moment, he announces, “It’s a tie!”

You and Jon exchange a look of surprise and then burst into laughter, both of your mouths covered in pie and thoroughly satisfied. The crowd applauds, appreciating the spirited effort you both put into the contest. You fancy yourself smug, seeing as you kept up with a kryptonian.

Jon wipes his hands and face with a napkin, chuckling as he looks at you. "I can't believe we tied," he says, shaking his head in amusement.

You nod, still grinning widely. "Yeah, I can’t believe you kept up with me.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

The man hands each of you a small prize—a colorful ribbon that declares you both "Pie Eating Champions of Gotham City Carnival". You both accept the ribbons with good humor, pinning them onto your shirts proudly.

As you step away from the contest table, Jon nudges you playfully. "So, what's next on our carnival adventure?"

You glance around, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling carnival. The vibrant lights of the rides beckon in the distance, and the aroma of cotton candy and popcorn fills the air. "Let's hit the Ferris wheel," you suggest, pointing towards the towering structure adorned with sparkling lights.

Jon nods eagerly. "Sounds good to me. Let's go," he says, grabbing your hand as you make your way towards the Ferris wheel.

The line isn’t too long. The worker wishes you a good ride as the two of you step into the brightly colored gondola, slowly ascending to the sky.

As the ride reaches its peak, you both fall silent for a moment, taking in the view. The city skyline looms in the distance, a stark contrast to the colorful and carefree world of the carnival. For a brief moment, you feel a sense of peace and contentment, grateful for this simple yet memorable night with Jon. 

"This is nice," Jon remarks, leaning back comfortably in his seat. You nod in agreement, admiring the view.

Jon looks at you, thinking. There are a million things he wants to say, wants to admit to you. He wonders how you would react to each and every one of them. With only positivity, he’s sure. You’re the type to go with the flow, whatever happens, happens. He’s certain he could trust you with his life, eventually.

He takes a deep breath, unsure what’s about to come out of his mouth. “[Name]–”

The Ferris wheel rocks violently for a heart stopping moment. For the other riders, mostly. You and Jon immediately stiffen to attention, because Ferris wheels aren’t supposed to do that. Jon crosses over to you, locking you in his embrace as he looks over the edge. You try to look as well, but a simple tense of his arms prevents you.

A threatening green is making headway across the carnival grounds, sending people running. Vines bloom, crawling over stands and attractions. Poison Ivy, looking as prickly as ever, strides in gracefully.

"This carnival is a blight on this land," Ivy declares, her voice carrying over the chaos. "You trample on nature for your own amusement, but no longer. Tonight, the Earth fights back."

Oh, great. You can’t do anything because you’re stuck in the air with Jon. Jon can’t do anything because he’s stuck in the air with you. You sigh, leaning back against him.

With a wave of her hand, flowers bloom amidst the destruction, a stark contrast to the panic around her. Ivy's plants begin to dismantle the carnival, reclaiming the area for nature. Her message is clear: the environment will no longer be taken for granted, and anyone who harms it will face her wrath. Vines crawl up the Ferris wheel, wrapping around the gondolas in a nightmarish display.

“Um. Any bright ideas?” you ask Jon.

He says pulling out his phone, he pulls it out of your view and begins to type furiously. You bet a hundred bucks it’s Damian and Jon is furiously texting him to haul ass and get here now .

A vine thrusts itself into the box, making Jon yank you both to the floor in the middle. It spreads slowly, hauntingly, slowly encompassing the gondola. Flowers bloom… ah shit—

Jon shifts the two of you, blocking you from the flowers. Also putting himself directly in front of them. “Jon don’t–” you warn, because regardless of his heritage, it can still affect him. Even more so since he’s only half. He presses your face into his chest right as the flower coughs, releasing the spores right in his face.

“Don’t breathe them in,” he growls. Thanks, you weren’t planning on it anyway. You hold your breath, anyway.

He’s getting antsy. “[Name],” he mutters gravely. “Please. Close your eyes and trust me.”

You internally sigh, preparing how you’re going to act like the most aloof fool after this. You nod and close your eyes. Jon picks you up, arms under your knees and around your back. You wind your arms around his neck and rest against his chest.

Jon, to his credit, doesn’t just fly down the ride. You feel him jump down the bars of the Ferris wheel, making sure to keep you secure in his arms. His landings are precise and calculated, avoiding the chaos below. You hear the gasps and shouts from the people around you as Jon navigates through the mess of vines.

Finally, you feel the solid ground beneath you as Jon gently sets you down. “Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he says softly.

You open your eyes and find yourself standing amidst the carnage, the Ferris wheel towering above you. Vines continue to spread, and the air is filled with the panicked cries of carnival-goers trying to escape. Jon stands protectively beside you, his eyes scanning the area for any sign of Ivy.

“We have to stop her,” you blurt. He looks at you incredulously. You ignore it and look around, trying to find a way to do this without Spinnerette. Eyes narrowing, you spot something in the distance.

“There.” You point at a nearby water tower. “If we flood the area, it might disrupt her control over the plants.”

“Good plan. You should leave it to the professionals.”

You blink, turning around. It’s Robin who spoke, arms crossed and looking at you. However, it’s the sight of the 6’2 emo bitch dressed in a bat fursuit that makes you stiffen.

“Robin! You came!” Jon brightens, before coughing into his fist. “I mean. Of course you came, you’re Robin.” The urge to roll your eyes at his silliness is strong, but you resist.

Batman doesn’t react, though you’re sure he just sighed on the inside. “You should get to safety with the rest of the civilians,” he grumbles out in his Batman™ voice.

You nod rapidly. “Yup yup. Yessir Mr Batman.” You grip Jon’s wrist and drag him away. Fuck that, majorly. If he says leave it up to him, you’re perfectly fine with that. You’re pretty sure he’s gonna take what you said and connect some dots, and you don’t wanna be around when that happens. He can take his theories and shove it up his ass.

Jon lets you drag him away, looking back to see Damian squinting at him through the mask. Making your way out of the venue you catch onto Ivy’s parting words.

"In a world of violence and chaos, my cuddle pollen offers a moment of peace, a false but blissful reprieve. It's almost poetic, isn't it?"

Fuck. Your. Life.

Jon is looking just a tad bit worse for wear (you’re lying, he looks haggard) when you arrive at your apartment. May, thank god, wasn’t at the desk, so you managed to get by without having to deal with that. You  shove Jon onto the couch, wincing with a small apology. Frantically typing, you google how to deal with cuddle pollen.

The number one suggestion is to visit Gotham General Hospital, but given Jon’s less than human nature, that's a no go. Other results suggest drinking lots of water and sweating it out to dilute its affects.

You throw your phone somewhere and quickly fetch some water for Jon. Nari meows at Jon, sensing something is wrong. When you make your way back you see that Jon has trapped Nari in his arms, cooing unintelligibly at him.

“Drink,” you tell him urgently, lifting his chin. He leans into your touch, obeying. You make sure he drinks every last drop. When he finishes you turn around to get some more water, only to be yanked back. You crash into Jon’s arms, watching as Nari trots away, happy to be free. You wish you were Nari right now.

Jon nuzzles into you, humming contently.

“Jon…” you warn.

“Yeah, baby?” he hums. Jesus.

“You’re under the effects of cuddle pollen. Your mind is scrambled. Just let me get you some water–”

He hugs you tighter at the mention of you leaving, standing up with you in his arms. You try to get free, holding your own for a bit. But alas, he wins. Stupid kryptonian biology. He carries you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed.

You blink. “Okay, hang on–”

Jon belly flops right on top of you, earning an ‘oof’ from you. He wraps his arms around you, snuggling into your collarbone. He sighs in content as he relaxes on you. There’s no hope for you to escape, is there?

“Jon, come on. Let’s… do jumping jacks or something. Sweat it out of your system. You can even hold my hand!”

Jon grumbles, burying his face in your neck. “I know something else we can do to get sweaty.”

You blink. Then snort. Damn, is that the cuddle pollen talking or is your influence taking effect? You feel Jon smile against your neck.

Sighing, you acknowledge that you’re not getting out of this situation. You hesitantly rest your arms around him. You feel his grin get wider, and then he surprises you even further by laying a goddamn kiss against your neck. You grumble and mutter, “I am going to make fun of you so hard after this.”

Laying there, you think. If you didn’t just compromise yourself to Batman, then hopefully you won’t be approached when you next patrol. Or worse, when you're just being a regular civilian. 

You blink, deciding you’re gonna be a little shit.

“Jon,” you say, “give me your phone.”

Jon reaches into his pocket, unlocking his phone and handing it to you. It’s got a couple cracks in it, and his wallpaper features a photo of a sunset over a vast farm. You scroll through his contacts, clicking the one that says ‘damian !! (stinkin loser)’. You click the call button, hoping he’s done superheroing and has time to answer.

He answers on the third ring. “Jon, you fool, what were you–”

“Damian,” you interrupt before he says something you’re not supposed to know. The line goes quiet on the other end. “I’ll keep it brief. Jon got absolutely fucked over with a face-full of cuddle pollen and he won’t let me go. We’re at my apartment, so if you can pull some rich people strings and get an antidote or something I would very much appreciate it.”

“...He won’t let go of you?”

You roll your eyes and snap a picture of Jon wrapped around you. “Help,” is all you say after you send it.

You hear him sigh. “I’ll be there in fifteen,” is all you hear before the call cuts. Jon yanks the phone away from you, throwing it somewhere in the room as he flips the two of you over. You lay on his chest now, feeling his chin rest on your head and his hands come up to rest on your waist, fingertips creeping up under your shirt.

Your phone is in the other room and you didn’t see where Jon threw his, so you’re left to stew in his arms until Damian comes. You begin to hum a song, for your own peace of mind, ignoring the way Jon’s hands rub your skin in a back-and-forth motion. Jon removes one of his hands and places it on the back of your head, pushing you into his neck. The bastard lays another kiss on your head, muttering comforting words.

Damn, you think you’re starting to fall asleep. Sue you for feeling safe in his arms, he’s literally Superboy. It doesn’t help that you're lying in bed and he's rubbing your back so softly you feel like he’s your boyfriend comforting you after a long day.

You hear your door kick open, and the only reason your fight response doesn’t kick in is because you’re still stuck in Jon’s arms, and because you know it’s Damian. Jon on the other hand, immediately sits up, glaring hard at your hallway. When Damian shows up in your doorway, bag in hand, he relaxes. He lies back down in the bed, snuggling in to you.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

He ignores your weak greeting, digging into his bag and pulling out a syringe filled with what can only be the antidote. You pointedly make a note to definitely not mention how the needle is green.

“Just be careful he doesn’t grab you. He’s… really strong,” you mutter.

He grabs Jon’s head, pushing it aside to bare his neck. You’re surprised Jon lets him, but cuddle pollen does leave people without inhibition. Damian sticks the needle in, making Jon groan. You watch the fluid disappear, feeling peaceful knowing that this will soon be over. Damian finishes administering the antidote and takes a seat on the bed.

“Thanks for… coming through,” you say. You don’t know what else you can really talk about right now.

Damian just looks at you. “What were you even doing there?”

He means the carnival. You furrow your brows. “Hanging out? Sorry we didn’t predict that Poison Ivy was gonna be there. Maybe you should talk to Batman about that.”

“You could have been hurt. Jon did get hurt.”

“It’s just cuddle pollen, Dami,” you reassure, placing a hand on his arm. He grasps it tightly. “You gave him the antidote, he’s not hurt.”

Damian’s grip on your arm is firm, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re lucky it was just that. It could have been worse.”

You nod, understanding his concern, but feeling a bit annoyed at the same time. “I know, I know. But we’re fine now. Jon’s going to be okay.”

Damian's expression softens slightly at your reassurance, though his concern is still evident. He looks at Jon, who seems to be coming out of the pollen's effects, his grip on you loosening. Damian then turns his attention back to you, his gaze intense.

"You shouldn't take unnecessary risks," he says, his voice low but firm. "Especially not with someone like Jon."

You raise an eyebrow at the implication in his tone. "Are you implying something about Jon?"

“Jon is… brave, but restless. Just be more cautious.”

You give him a playful smirk. "Are you worried about me, Damian Wayne? That's almost sweet."

He scowls slightly, clearly not amused by your teasing. "I'm serious, [Name]. This city is dangerous enough without getting caught up in avoidable situations."

“I promise to be more careful in the future,” you say, eyes earnest. It seems to settle Damian, for now.

Jon groans under you. He sits up, taking you with him. You fall to his lap as you look at him. He blinks for a moment, taking in his surroundings. You hear his heartbeat slowing, calming. He looks at Damian, looks at you. Stares at you, whom his arms are around, in his lap.

He freaks, shoving you out of his embrace and scrambling back. Damian catches you, growling, “You fool, Jon, careful!”

“I’m so sorry!” he cries. “I was… oh my god, I’m so sorry–”

You hold out your hands to placate him. “Jon, it’s okay! I’m fine, I don’t care. You weren’t in control. You didn’t do anything.”

“I should have left when I got hit,” he growls to himself.

You sigh, looking at Damian for help. “What’s done is done. No use in whining about it now,” he huffs, shifting you to sit up.

Jon purses his lips, looking like he wants to cry. You open your arms, “Come on.”

He hesitates, so you grab him and haul him into your embrace. He stiffens, before wrapping his arms around you. He melts into your embrace.

Damian clears his throat, making Jon pull back with a sheepish expression. “I should really get home before my parents worry.”

You nod, patting his arm. “Of course.”

He thanks Damian as well on his way out. You don’t hear the door open, so you figure he just got antsy and couldn’t stay in the room longer. You don’t blame him. You sigh when you see he left his phone, grabbing it and handing it to Damian.

“Thank you,” you mutter. You look into his eyes, he looks back. In a moment of weakness, you place a hand on his cheek and lean in, pressing your lips to his other one. The kiss is chaste, barely lasting for a second before you pull back. “You’re paying for my door.”

Damian says nothing in response, simply watching you. He raises his hand, clasping yours and gently bringing it down. He nods.

“It was nothing.” And then he and Jon are out the door. You sigh, laying down in your bed that smells like Jon now. No patrol tonight, again.

notes: jon was about to risk it all on that ferris wheel just saying

[brucewaynehater101]

Hurt/comfort AU based on a dream I had:

Tim has been Robin for a short time now.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account.

At this point in time, Bruce has warmed up a little bit to Tim, but they still have a more professional relationship. Tim thinks he has to earn his spot still.

Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account that has fics from before and after Tim becomes Robin.

The before ones are self-insert Bats ones. Plots like a nine, ten, and eleven year old being saved, being the witness to a crime, or solving the case before them. They all end with the self-insert joining the team.

The ones after Tim becomes Robin are filled with Batman being fatherly and kind to the self-insert (who's an additional vigilante) or to Robin. He'll ruffle their hair, hug them, and tell them that he's proud of them. All of this is stuff Bruce currently doesn't do for Tim.

There's only a few fics where Batman is written in embarrassed situations (and Bruce crossed referenced the upload dates. Some of the dates were after Bruce did something mean or fucked up. The others, Bruce has no idea why Tim might have been upset).

When Bruce first reads the fics, he's mad. He, incorrectly, assumes that Tim has always been trying to become part of the team and took the first opportunity available. He's cold to Tim for a few weeks because of this (because Bruce is an emotionally constipated asshole who doesn't communicate).

Then Bruce starts to notice that the relationships Tim describes in his fics don't match up with how their relationship currently is. The teen doesn't eagerly ramble about his activities, ask Bruce to hang out with him, or otherwise engage unless it's mission related.

In fact, Tim's fanfics seem to portray what doesn't happen in their interactions. With Bruce being cold to Tim, the self-insert gets more hugs, words of affection, and praise.

Bruce learns more about Tim's hobbies, likes, dislikes, and passions from the fanfics than he ever knew. Bruce has the startling realization that they just don't talk.

There's a few fics Bruce has been avoiding (the ones with Robin II tags), but he read the ones with Nightwing. Tons of brotherly bonding and affection, basically.

Bruce finally makes up his mind when Tim releases a new fanfic a few days after an interaction with Poison Ivy. In the fic, Robin had gotten dosed with cuddle pollen and was cuddled all night with Batman and Nightwing.

Bruce is in a panic because he realizes that Tim could've gone back to his own house afflicted with cuddle pollen, and Bruce would have never known. He doesn't even know if Tim was making this fanfic as a desire due to him actually being dosed or if it just came to his mind. This freaks Bruce the fuck out.

Thus, Bruce then uses the fanfics as guides for how he should be acting with Tim and Dick. He puts the effort to be a better mentor and parent to them.

It freaks the other two out at first (and Tim is the most resistant to the change), but they slowly become closer.

Bruce never tells anyone that he found Tim's fanfic account.

Part 2: After Red Hood comes back and does the whole Titan's Tower Attack.

Bruce, after realizing that Tim's fanfiction account now had Red Hood fics (both ones making fun of the man and ones where the crime lord is being kind/brotherly), tells Jason mid-fight that he should check out this random fanfic account Bruce thinks he'd enjoy.

Jason, obviously fucking confused why Batman is recommending fanfiction in the middle of a fight, just stops.

Bruce nods at this, tells Jason he cares about him (Bruce has been working on it!), and then just leaves.

Cue Jason researching this account (that he doesn't initially know is Tim's) and going through a series of conflicted emotions.

[envysparkler]

Dick had fucked up.  Dick had fucked up big time.

“Robin?” Dick tried, creeping through the gloom of the abandoned warehouse.  Machinery loomed out of the darkness like dusty jumpscares and there was a chilling, crawling feeling up the back of his neck.  “Robin, are you there?”

No sound.  Not even a whisper.  Demons were always very good at blending into the shadows.

“Robin, come back,” Dick called out into the darkness.

The crippling sensation of abandonment was his only answer.

Really, this whole thing was Bruce’s fault.  Not only had he replaced Dick, he’d replaced him with a demon.  A baby incubus that Dick was supposed to call brother.  Dick was justifiably wary of humanity’s greatest predators, never mind that his little brother had chubby little cheeks and an adorable scowl and a pout that Dick had to resist cooing at.  He was dangerous.

And doubly so under the influence of mind tampering chemicals.

Incubi under fear toxin could induce a heart attack with a touch, overloading people’s minds with fear until they died.  Dick had never met an incubus under the use of cuddle pollen, since Ivy mainly reserved that for the Bats, but he shuddered to think of what an emotion-sensitive demon would do when faced with the draining hunger for succor.

Luckily, Dick had met enough villains with mental manipulation to develop strong mental shields.  They’d snapped into place the moment he’d felt Robin’s clumsy grab for his mind, protecting him from mental intrusion.  He could’ve gotten Robin back to the Batcave and in a containment cell with no one—especially Bruce—the wiser.

Instead, Robin had bolted the moment Dick had cut him free of Ivy’s vines and Dick had no idea how to find him.  It was becoming increasingly likely that he’d have to call Bruce from his shift on the Watchtower and deal with the Disappointed Look that still made Dick cringe.

He could already hear Bruce now.  I asked you to watch over Gotham for one night, but I see that was beyond your capabilities.  The sneer was clearly visible in Dick’s mind.  I should’ve never called you back—you’re useless, pathetic, weak—

Dick froze.  “Robin?” he called out, barely a whisper.  The dread and terror hanging over his head weren’t his own.  The fear of being kicked out wasn’t his.  “Robin, are you there?”

The feeling of dread intensified.  Lurking behind it was hurt, a miasma that seemed to grow with every breath.  Pain and fear and abandonment and loneliness, all of it battling together in a spiral that tightened around Dick’s chest and sunk deep.

“Robin?” Dick called out again.  It was an old-fashioned game of hot-and-cold.  The thicker the emotions were, the closer he was getting.  Dick kept the mental block and slipped further into the warehouse.

The darkness seemed especially concentrated in the shadows behind an old conveyor belt.  Dick rounded the edge and headed for the corners, feeling the ache as the emotions pressed against his barrier.

He caught sight of the cape as the emotions solidified into specifics.

hates me hates me can’t stand the sight of me no one can they all hate me

I don’t want to be a demon I don’t want to be alone I just want to be loved why is it so hard why why

please please please please please please please it hurts please it hurts make it stop please please it hurts make it stop I can’t breathe please please please

I’m so hungry

it’s so cold

please help help please it hurts please please please please

“Oh, kid,” Dick breathed, crouching as he crept closer.  Robin was huddled into a tiny ball, cape tucked around him, shuddering violently.  “It’s okay.  It’s going to be okay.  C’mere.”

Robin didn’t move, but he didn’t jerk away at Dick’s careful touch at his shoulder, and Dick moved to envelop him in a hug.  He used slow, cautious movements and only relaxed when the kid was tucked up in his lap.

Robin was still rigid, not bending the slightest amount, breaths harsh and shaky.  Before Dick could figure out a more comfortable position for them both, something poked at his mental barrier.

Dick mentally reared back, reinforcing the block.  But it wasn’t an attack, it was…questing?  It slunk forward again, a wary little thread reaching out.  For an instant, Dick felt hurt please help big brother please?

Then the thread curled away, sagging at a lack of response, and the feeling of abandonment surged.

It was a stupid idea.  Dick was just compounding the bad decisions that had led them to this point.  He could already imagine Bruce’s lecture—did you seriously allow a demon access to your mind because you felt sorry for it—but he’d already made the decision.

Dick dropped the mental barrier.

It felt like cracking open a door he was trying to hold shut, warring with his own instincts as he deliberately lowered his guard.  The thread came back and, upon finding an open path, slithered inside.  Dick resisted the urge to kick it back out.

Dickie? came an inquisitive thought—it didn’t feel like a word mentally spoken, it felt like an impression, and when Dick reached out it, it was accompanied by a dazzling network of memories and emotions.  He was looking at himself from the outside, from the point of view of a little boy that wanted nothing more than his approval, that had placed Dick on a pedestal so high Dick was getting dizzy just experiencing it.

Jaybird, Dick tried crafting his own impression in response, shoving the resentment and irritation as far down as he could in the hopes that Jason couldn’t find it.  He bundled up all his hopes and wishes for a baby brother and flung it across the mental space.

One moment Jason was on the outside, peering in, asking for entry—and the next he was in, tangled up thoroughly with Dick’s emotions, rifling through his head like it was a flipbook.  Confusion and panic and fear flitted across Dick’s mind, slow like molasses, and were easily batted aside.  Comfort rose out of the tangle, and contentment, the lazy purr of a cat slumbering in a sunspot.

It felt good. Dick was…Dick was supposed to be doing something.  They were in a warehouse.  They…they had to get home?  But the warehouse was empty and everything was quiet here.

[ann-rex]

I DID IT! Here you guys go! His Hair Is Messy (He Doesn't Know Who He is Yet.) (2127 words) by Annrex Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Short & Sweet, Ivy's Cuddle Pollen, How is that not a tag wth???, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson Has Issues, it's like, implied - Freeform, Jason Todd-centric, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd Gets A Hug, that's the whole fic folks, Jason Todd is Robin, POV Jason Todd, Platonic Cuddling, Light Angst Series: Part 5 of Ann's collection of Batfam AU's!, Part 1 of Dynamic Duo (Jason and Dick.) Summary: He… shouldn't. Dick wouldn't be happy, and he just got done with an argument with Bruce. He wouldn't want to see Jason right now, even if Dick's hands were always warm and gentle when he patched Jason up, and how Dick would mockingly ruffle his hair, but his scalp still tingled and he leaned into it-   "Why are you in my room?!"   Ah. Shit.   A.K.A Jason, in desperation, seeks warmth in a place he's not sure he's welcome in. (tags: @starnightsstuff @yesitsoktopunchnazis @theonlysakura .)

[sherlocked-hunter-in-the-tardis]

I binged all your Batman content and WAAAA they're all so good!!! Esp little Jason, I would give that baby boy the world he has EARNED IT!! 💜💜💜 If you wanted an idea: Little Jason under the effect of cuddle pollen and REFUSING to be put down??? He does NOT want to sit alone, he wants to go wherever his CG is going!! He is just a baby koala, and my god, will he CLING to the nearest person 🥺🥺🥺

AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH for binging my works!!! 😭💖 That means the world to me!! I'm SO glad you liked them!!

And YESSSSS little Jason is my absolute favorite too!! I love him SO SO SO MUCH! He deserves all the cuddles, all the blankets, ALL the love. Baby boy’s been through too much!! 💜💜💜

And HELLOOOO??? CUDDLE POLLEN?? That is an idea I can 1000% get behind!!! (Way better than the usual sex pollen trope tbh—this one’s just ✨snuggly chaos✨)

I love the image of him clinging like a sleepy little koala, refusing to let go, just full-on baby barnacle mode 🐨🍼

I have to try this!! Here it is~ 💕👇

🐨 The Cuddle Koala Crisis

(Age regression, Little!Jason, Daddy!Bruce)

It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal.

Just a standard mission. A quick sweep through a Gotham greenhouse, one commandeered by some rookie rogue calling herself “Bloom.” She was using the city’s botanic labs to experiment with pollen-based chemicals. Poison Ivy’s less stable cousin, maybe. Either way, it was meant to be in, out, collect samples, and shut it all down before someone started sneezing confetti.

Jason had been in a mood the whole mission. Broody. Quiet. He hadn’t even complained that Bruce insisted they team up with Steph. Just huffed in the comms and kept his distance, sticking to the shadows like always.

He’d only taken off his helmet for two seconds.

Two seconds.

It was hot. The kind of humid, greenhouse-thick heat that stuck to the back of your neck and made every inch of kevlar feel like a furnace. He’d reached up to itch under the edge of his hairline—his scalp burned—and hiss-pop—

A puff of pinkish spores burst from a cracked bulb above his head.

Jason staggered back, sneezing immediately.

“The hell—?” he muttered, trying to wave it off as his vision swam briefly, like TV static behind his eyes. “I’m fine,” he added quickly, raising a gloved hand in Bruce’s direction before the older man could even speak. “Just stupid glitter-pollen. Barely touched me.”

Steph winced as she glanced up at the busted canister. “You sure? That looked real targeted, dude.”

“It’s fine,” Jason repeated, slapping his helmet back on. “Let's just finish the sweep.”

Ten minutes later, Jason was not fine.

“Jay, are you okay?” Steph asked over the comms, cautiously.

“Yeah,” came the grunted reply, slower this time.

Only it wasn’t a grunt, not really. It was…softer.

More like a whimper.

Bruce had already noticed the change. His son had gone unusually quiet. The kind of quiet that meant something was wrong. Jason didn’t do silence—he sulked, snapped, brooded, glared. But this was different.

“Report,” Bruce ordered calmly. “Status, Red Hood.”

There was a pause.

Then the sound of fabric rustling. A low, pitiful noise, like someone trying to swallow a sob.

“Jay?” Steph again, concern rising. “You’re not sounding so hot.”

The comms crackled.

And then: “D…da…?”

Bruce froze mid-step.

“Jason?” he said again, sharply. “Jason—where are you?”

“D-Da…” came the small, muffled sound again—barely audible, but heartbreaking. “Dada?”

Bruce’s heart dropped.

---

They found him curled under a large hibiscus tree, limbs trembling, helmet discarded somewhere in the brush. His whole face was flushed and tear-streaked, and he had both arms stretched upward, reaching for Bruce the second he got near.

Jason didn’t say anything else.

He just latched onto Bruce like his life depended on it, wrapping arms and legs around him like a baby koala and shoving his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck with a high, panicked whine.

Bruce caught him instantly.

“Got you,” he murmured, pressing a hand to the back of Jason’s head. “Shh. I’ve got you, it’s okay now. You're safe, little one.”

Jason didn’t let go. Not for one second.

Even when Bruce tried to pass him over to Steph to scan for vitals, Jason let out the loudest, most gut-wrenching, absolutely heartbroken sob imaginable and tightened his grip like a vice.

“I don’t think he’s gonna budge,” Steph whispered, watching in awe as the normally-terrifying Red Hood shuddered and hiccuped like a baby on Bruce’s shoulder.

“He’s under the influence of something,” Bruce said calmly, though his voice had gentled. “It’s affecting his mental state. Possibly triggering regression.”

“No kidding. He’s glued to you. Look at that grip.”

Jason was still sobbing, silent now, but shivering from the intensity. A little hiccupped moan escaped him, barely a word:

“Nooo…”

“Alright, alright,” Bruce soothed, rocking slightly. “No one’s taking you. You're alright, sweetheart. Daddy’s here.”

Steph blinked. “Did you just—?”

“Later,” Bruce cut in, already turning with Jason still clinging like a barnacle. “We’re heading back. I’ll carry him.”

“Obviously,” Steph mumbled. “If you can peel him off later, let me know.”

Jason’s only answer was another little sniffle—followed by a heavy sigh as he buried his face deeper into Bruce’s chest and fell into a light, hiccupy doze.

He didn’t let go the entire ride home.

Not even once.

---

Bruce had learned to walk carefully. His gait was slower, a bit more awkward, but steady, because every time Jason bounced even the slightest bit, a whimper bubbled in his throat.

So Bruce held him tighter.

From the second they stepped into the manor, Jason clung like a starfish. Arms wrapped under Bruce’s arms, face pressed deep into the bat on his chest, knees hitched high around Bruce’s waist. Bruce had long since given up trying to coax him into a seat. Or a bed. Or a blanket nest. He tried. He really did.

“C’mon, Jaybird,” Bruce murmured as he crossed the threshold of the manor’s living room. “Couch is real soft. I’ll sit with you. Promise.”

“Mnn,” was all Jason gave. A quiet, exhausted little grunt, barely a puff of air.

Bruce gently bounced him once. “What if I lay down with you, hm? We can get the big fuzzy blanket. Your elephant’s still on the armrest. You love that elephant.”

Jason's arms tightened like a vice.

“Okay,” Bruce relented instantly, “we’re staying up.”

He walked through the manor like that, one hand bracing Jason’s bottom, the other curled protectively over his back. They passed Alfred in the hallway—who, upon seeing the full-grown vigilante clinging to Bruce like a koala cub, raised one elegant brow.

“I trust Master Jason is… comfortably ensnared?”

Bruce sighed. “He won’t let go.”

“I see,” Alfred said dryly. “Shall I prepare snacks for the marsupial and his mobile pouch?”

Bruce’s lips twitched. “Sure. If I can sit long enough for him to chew.”

They made it to the kitchen, and Jason still wouldn’t budge. Even when Bruce perched on the bench, Jason clambered into his lap like it was a natural continuation of the last three hours.

“Jason,” Bruce said softly, brushing his sweaty bangs back, “can you tell me what you need, sweetheart?”

Jason blinked at him. His lower lip wobbled. No words.

Bruce cupped his cheek gently. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to talk. Just nod for Daddy, okay?”

He got a slow, sleepy blink. Then Jason leaned in even more, tucking his head beneath Bruce’s chin and letting out a trembling breath.

That was answer enough.

When Dick entered the kitchen, the scene made him stop in his tracks.

Bruce, still fully suited down to his boots, was balancing a grown man in his lap like a toddler. Jason was visibly diapered under a loose pair of borrowed lounge pants (because gods forbid Bruce let him back in the jeans he’d leaked through). One arm was looped over Bruce’s shoulder. The other clutched a plush elephant loosely against his chest. His thumb had found its way to his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Dick whispered, “he’s so gone.”

Bruce gave him a Look. “He’s overstimulated. It’s cuddle pollen. He needs touch.”

“He’s suction-cupped to you like a baby sloth.”

Bruce shrugged, shifting Jason slightly so he could reach the bottle Alfred had left. Jason stirred but didn’t detach.

“He wouldn’t even let me sit down at first,” Bruce muttered. “Had to hold him upright while making formula one-handed.”

“Did you at least get to pee?”

“I did. But I had to wash my hands holding him sideways.”

Dick wheezed.

Jason mumbled something unintelligible into Bruce’s collar.

Tim peeked in next, still in his suit, eyeing the scene with something between fascination and concern. “Do we… try to wean him off you? Or just… let him wear himself out?”

“He’s safe. That’s all that matters,” Bruce said, cradling the back of Jason’s head as Jason let out a soft hiccup and curled tighter.

The lights dimmed. The manor settled. Jason, warm and small and fully latched onto his safe place, let himself drift.

Wherever Bruce was going, Jason was going too.

---

Bruce had given up trying to sit Jason down.

Every attempt, no matter how gentle, no matter how sweetly coaxed, was met with heartbroken whimpers and squirmy, desperate clinging. Jason didn’t cry outright, not in a loud way. No, this was worse. His face would scrunch, tears would well, and the softest, most crushed baby sounds would spill out of him, tiny, hiccupy gasps and broken hums that tore through Bruce like shrapnel.

He didn’t have the words to explain it. Not right now. Not with his brain sunk so deep in littlespace it felt like wading through molasses just to keep his eyes open. So instead, he communicated the only way he could:

With his whole body.

“No, no, no,” he’d signed with his fists balled up under his chin, lip wobbling. The second Bruce so much as shifted toward a couch, Jason latched on tighter, tiny legs locking around his waist, arms wound under Bruce’s cape like he could burrow into his chest and never come out.

“I’m not putting you down,” Bruce whispered, rubbing soft circles into his back. “You’re safe. You’re safe, baby.”

Jason just snuffled against his chest, nodding a little, but he didn’t let go.

So Bruce adapted.

He looped a thick throw blanket over his shoulders like a cape and settled Jason in the crook of one arm like he was made to be there. He carried him into the dining room. Ate spaghetti one-handed. Balanced a sippy cup of juice near Jason’s mouth between bites. Every time Jason made a noise—tiny, fussy, clingy—Bruce would murmur, “I got you,” or “Still here,” or “I know, sweet pea. Not goin’ anywhere.”

Cass offered to fashion a sling out of spare cloth and utility straps.

Bruce looked down at Jason, who was currently smooshed cheek-first against his chest, tiny fingers fisted in the collar of Bruce’s shirt. He looked back up at Cass.

“Don’t even try,” Bruce said flatly. “He already bit Tim for touching me.”

Tim was across the room, scowling, nursing his hand. “It was a baby bite,” he muttered. “Still rude.”

Dick chuckled from his spot on the armrest. “I mean… he warned you.”

“I was handing Bruce a water bottle!”

Damian, seated primly and watching Jason like a scientist observing a new species, added dryly, “He is no longer a Red Hood. He is a Red Marsupial.”

Bruce snorted.

Jason made a sleepy, content little chirp, half-hiccup, half-mewl, and rubbed his cheek against Bruce’s sternum. His body was warm and heavy, all melted trust and baby need.

“No, kiddo, you’re not heavy,” Bruce murmured automatically, without prompting.

Because he could feel the unspoken question in every tense shift of Jason’s tiny fingers.

Jason stayed put, snuggling in tighter.

He wasn’t going anywhere. And neither was Bruce.

---

Time melted away in quiet, golden drips.

The world outside the Manor moved on, rain whispered against the windows, the grandfather clock ticked steadily in the hall, but inside the sitting room, everything slowed to a hush.

Jason had stopped trying to stay awake somewhere around Bruce’s fourth case file. His thumb had made its way to his mouth without a second thought, damp and content. His other hand remained fisted on Bruce’s cape, grip slack now, but still there—like even in dreams, he didn’t want to let go.

Bruce hadn’t moved in hours.

Not really.

He shifted only enough to keep Jason cradled just right, with a fleece blanket over both of them and his back angled against the arm of the couch. One arm curved protectively around Jason’s small body, rubbing slow, reassuring lines across his back. The other flipped lazily through the glowing blue pages of his tablet, case files dimmed to minimal light.

Jason snuffled against his chest, hiccuped once, then gave a little breathy sigh that sounded more like a kitten purring than a human sound.

Bruce didn’t even blink.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, not needing a response. “I’ve got you. You can stay here as long as you want.”

Jason didn’t answer.

He couldn’t. He was too far in, too tiny, too gone, a puddled baby boy in full comfort-mode. His lashes fluttered faintly, drool smeared warm across Bruce’s shirt, and that thumb stayed securely in his mouth like a pacifier he’d grown himself.

He barely even stirred as Bruce’s voice continued, so soft it barely disturbed the air.

“You’re safe here, Jay. You’re home. My baby’s home.”

And when Alfred peeked in later to check if they wanted tea, he found them just like that, Bruce still holding Jason like something precious, head bowed, lips pressed to Jason’s hair.

He didn’t interrupt.

He just quietly closed the door again.

💤 Epilogue: Morning After

Jason stirred to soft morning light filtering through the curtains and the quiet tick, tick of the grandfather clock down the hall.

His brain caught up slowly.

His eyes opened halfway.

And then—

He froze.

He was still in Bruce’s lap.

Still in flannel pajamas. Still surrounded by stuffed animals—one of which was somehow tucked under his arm like a beloved plushie. His leg was slung across Bruce’s thigh like a koala in a post-cuddle coma. His head was tilted into Bruce’s shoulder. And—oh god. There was dried drool on Bruce’s shirt.

He sat bolt upright, face already burning.

“Tell me I didn’t,” he croaked.

From the hallway, Tim’s voice echoed like judgment from the gods. “You absolutely did.”

Jason groaned and faceplanted into the nearest throw pillow.

“Leech,” Tim added helpfully. “Clingy little droolbug. I still have teeth marks.”

“Only because you tried to touch me,” Bruce said mildly, not even looking up from his tablet.

“I was gonna help!”

Jason let out a muffled, dying noise into the pillow. “Oh my god. Kill me.”

“No way,” Dick said brightly, strolling in with a coffee mug. “You were adorable. Like, genuinely, you made a little ‘hnnnn’ noise when Bruce moved you to scratch his nose. I’ve never seen you cling harder.”

Jason sat up just enough to glare at him, face scarlet. “I’m going to move to another planet.”

“Don’t forget your blankie,” Steph called, poking her head in with a grin. “And Captain Chubs! You named a stuffie, Jason.”

Jason looked horrified.

Bruce, because he had no shame and infinite dad energy, smirked into his coffee. “Next time we visit Ivy’s greenhouse,” he murmured, “I’m bringing a baby sling.”

Jason screamed back into the pillow.

Cass wandered in silently, held up a cartoon drawing she’d made of Jason as a clingy baby koala, and just smiled.

“I hate all of you,” Jason muttered, mortified beyond saving.

But then Bruce’s hand slid up his back, warm and steady. He pressed a kiss to the top of Jason’s head, soft, like a promise.

And Jason… didn’t pull away.

Not really.

He just grumbled into Bruce’s shoulder, still red-faced, and curled slightly closer. Maybe just enough to bump his knee against Bruce’s again.

Because yeah, he was flustered.

But he was safe.

And if his thumb hovered a little too close to his mouth before he yanked it away—well.

No one said a word.

(Not out loud, anyway.)

[science-lings]

Bits and Bats prompt list

Last updated 6/28/2025

If any of these catch your interest, please send me an ask and I'll write a little bit for it!

Ao3 Link

Cass joins the batfam early AUs:

Pre-Batman era, Bruce comes across a little girl being trained as a weapon and takes her home with him (Link)

same as above but she's a baby and he's still determined to go through assassin training

Wanderer-era Cass takes an interest in the city's shadow creature and follows him home like a stray cat (Link)

Cass and Jason: homeless duo who get into hijinks and shouldn't be separated (Link)

Batman being stalked by multiple children (Tim and Cass run into each other following Batman and Robin around)

Babs feels the bat-urge to batdopt a batchild

Batman finds someone to sit silently and brood by gargoyles with

idk any trope or plotpoint would be better if there was a little Cass involved

Fem!Bruce AU? Mama bat and baby bat... Kane and Cain...

Battinson AU, awkward emo man and his adorable but eerily silent daughter, they would haunt dark corners together

Dark Knights of Steel

Bruce talks to his mom (I'm sorry there needs to be some closure)

Bruce and a Robin of your choice

just send me one of the Robins and I'll write something about them or their backstory bc the comic didn't give any of them one

Bruce and his best friend Harley (his one friend that isn't a child or his half-siblings or I guess beastboy)

literally anything with Bruce I'm obsessed with him

Misc.

Platonic ABO

Dragon!Batman AU

Robin Training (homeschooling if it was real weird)

Cuddle Pollen batfam trope POV Poison Ivy

Cryptid batman/Human batkids

Cryptid batfam (they're weird now? THEY'RE WEIRD NOW)

Ghost Batman (Bruce is dead but batman still looms)

The batkids bringing an actual bat along with them and convincing people that it's actually just batman

Something off of that Fairytale AU post (Dragon!Batman, Princess! Brucie, Knight! Bruce)

Battinson and a batkid of your choice

Wing!Au

I'll edit this post to add links when prompts get written for and to add more ideas as I come up with them. These are just the fic ideas that I feel like I can write little ficlets for that don't have to be a full 20k+ fic. I'm also just open to chatting about AUs and ideas, especially if you have ideas for the DKoS Robins, I would love to cooperatively develop them lmao.

I'm happy to get asks here or on my writing blog @sciencelings-writes

[suzukiblu]

sentence: "Kon picks up a the call and before he can even say hello, Tims voice rings out "Bernard and I got hit with one of Ivy's attacks and we need your help." with timberkon :D

Kon picks up the call and before he can even say hello, Tim's voice rings out: "Bernard and I got hit with one of Ivy's attacks and we need your help."

". . . when you say 'one of Ivy's attacks' . . ." Kon trails off doubtfully, because theoretically Tim and Bernard should not need his help for that particular situation, and Tim sighs.

"It's the stupid option, alright?" he says irritably. Kon immediately bursts into laughter. "Shut up, you don't know how much fucking cuddle pollen sucks, you bastard!"

"Cuddle pollen!" Kon wheezes past his cackling, half-collapsing against the wall to keep himself from doubling over.

"Just shut up and super-speed your TTK over here, asshole," Tim says.

"So it can cuddle you?"

"I hate you so much."