#Gotham knights Jason

[deadman-is-a-moron]

Gotham Knights Jason may be a bit ugly but I love him so much

[reds-hoodies]

MINORS DNI 18+

F!Reader

That’s the thing though. GK!Jason wouldn’t be rough with you.

Do you think he’d degrade you? Punish you?

No.

This man thanks every power he can think of for bringing you into his life. Jason sees war on the streets of Gotham every day. He’s been through hell and back. Literally. So he’s grateful for the calm you bring to his chaotic life.

And each night he comes back to you.

Because you are his gospel. A deity tantalizingly spread bare to worship at the altar. And worship he shall.

He’s reverently pressing his thanks into your skin. From the tips of your fingers to the bottoms of your feet. And every sigh you give him is a blessing to his ears.

He’s kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh of your thighs, leaving proof of his devotion as he makes his way to your center where he has you shaking and gasping under his tongue. He drinks from you as if you were made from the finest ambrosia.

But here’s another thing: Jason is unfair.

This man will have you pressed against the comforters, nearly folding you in half as he spears himself into you. He splits you open slowly, slower than you thought was possible because he wants you to feel every inch of him.

And as he bottoms out, he’ll stop. Holding your hips still as you try in vain to rut up to him because, well?

He loves to see you desperate. So pushed to the edge that tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you plead for him to move.

And he thinks, you’ve never looked more gorgeous.

You had begged for his cock though and Jason just couldn’t deny you.

He pulls out, out, out until jut the tip of him is left.. and the slams back in. It rocks the bed.

“Thaaat’s it baby,” He grins, “ You’re doing so well for me.”

You nearly get whiplash, his words are soft and taste like honey but the way he’s slowly pounding into you leaves you a drooling, babbling mess because —somehow— he hits that perfect spot Every. Single. Time.

"Come on," he pants into your mouth, teeth clenching, the wet clap of your hips as he fucks you harder, "Come on, baby. Let me feel it. Let me feel you come."

Your eyes roll back, mouth agape in ecstasy as you shake and clinch around him. And he rides out your orgasm, pressing a large thumb in tight, fast circles into your clit. He’ll keep going, following you as you try to squirm away from him until your pelvis is nearly hovering over the bed because you can’t, you can’t-

His thrusts get a more ragged and desperate edge to them, his hips nearly bruising you at the brutal pace. Until he slams home one last time, shoulders hunching over with a punched out groan as he gives all he can into you. He stuffs you so full it dribbles out the sides where it beads down to mix with your mess on the sheets.

And the last thing? He’s a sap.

Because even after both of you wind down from your high he can’t bear to part with you. He wants to stay locked with you for as long as he can.

He looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars. He’ll kiss your face, and down to your lips to catch your tired giggles and taste you once more.

You two will get up eventually to clean up, but for now, he’s going to bask in your warmth as you card your fingers through his hair.

[panrekinn]

A hug from GK Jason could fix me

[sunflwrapple]

Gotham knights Jason…. please please just one chance please Gotham knights Jason JUST ONE CHANCE PLEASE 🧎‍♀️

[alternianfantasy]

Gotham Knights Jason Todd Appreciation

I know we're all used to floppy haired angsty Jason, but Bruiser lemon-chicken eating, wallet chain wearing, goofy ahh military haircut Jason has! Potential! Put some respect on this man, for Christs sake! Maybe some of y'all are too young to truly understand what this specific brand of metrosexual East Coast white boy entails! Artist

ABSOLUTELY lets you pluck and shape those brows when ur alone.

You help this poor man with his skincare. Moisturizing those scars will help them be less stiff!

Will pretend not to be into your reality TV show but ends up watching over your shoulder 9/10 times.

He's your lil fuckin' dress up doll. I'm so serious. Man has a New Jersey straight guy understanding of style but will happily wear the stuff you buy him.

CAN BE TALKED INTO GETTING A PEDICURE. Not all out with colored polish or anything, but getting your shit trimmed and scrubbed and clean feels nice, though he will never admit it. Not even to you.

This man goes to a barber. Not a stylist like Dick or Babs would, or a supercuts like Tim. Jason gets his hair cut in the East End by Someone's Uncle. That's hot.

OR maybe you do it, if you're good with a pair of clippers. Nothing is more intimate than doing ur man's hair.

[singswan-springswan]

In a happy world where Jason is legally resurrected and gets to go to college like he's always dreamed of

[ciricearts]

gk! jason with kitteeen:3c

[frownyalfred]

I needed this gif to be on here because it’s SO funny you have no idea how much this silent communication means to me. The fact that Jason shushed his own brother. The fact that Dick LISTENED.

[spocks-husband]

If you ask Bruce why his training routine is so regimented and heavy he'll tell you that it's because he needs to make sure his body is in peak condition to battle for justice or whatever the fuck-- and that was true when he was like. 19. But now? Yeah, no.

You wanna know the real reason he works out so much?

It's because he can't stand the idea of not being able to pick up any of his kids.

And Jason is getting REALLY heavy.

(side note, all the Batkids and occasionally BatSpouses [I'll be nice and keep this ship neutral lol] get a random text confirming how much they weigh at any given time and they're all totally used to it because that just means he's about to start working out and he needs to check to make sure everything is accurate.)

[missmaemikaelson]

Lmao I’m dead 😭

[mayfieldss]

Thinking about Jason Todd finding out you have a crush on him…

It would make Jason’s day. Honestly that man would be giddy about it, though he’d never outwardly show it. He’d sit around and smile to himself, thinking about all the times you’ve been flustered when he’s near, all the times he caught you looking his way. It would make him more confident, which would in turn make him insufferable.

At least in the sense that he would tease the living hell out of you. Obviously he won’t let on that he knows you have a crush on him. He’d play you like a fiddle, trying to get you to confess.

He’d start small, brushing a hand over your lower back when moving past you. An innocent set of touches that could be excused by the cramped space of the kitchen or wherever it happened.

He’d lean down and whisper in your ear in crowded spaces, brush strands of hair back from your face so he can “get a good look at you.”

And with each little thing, he would watch you grow more bashful, more confused and muddled. He would watch you fan yourself from the corner of his eye as he walked away, and after a few weeks of it, it was Jason who was desperate.

He’d wanted you to tell him how you felt, dammit, he was flirting so hard that he hoped you might just kiss him on the spot, but he underestimated your self control.

He doesn’t know exactly when you caught on to what he was doing, but the day you did was his downfall. Because that was the day you started teasing him back. It didn’t happen like he thought it would, you didn’t give in and admit how you felt. Instead you turned the tables, made it war.

Payback was bitch, Jason now realised, after the second time you brushed up against him in a very important meeting. Or when you leaned over him, while he was having breakfast the previous day, supposedly to grab some salt. You’d placed a hand on his shoulder, the other reaching across for the salt shaker, your neck so close to his mouth that he damn near kissed it.

Surprisingly enough, the final straw was late one night when Jason was headed to bed. You’d stopped him in the hallway feinting to bid him goodnight, before you frowned at him, an innocent kind of expression.

“You’ve got something in your hair.” It sounds like you are telling the truth, but deep down Jason knows this is another play. At this point, he’s so down bad, he doesn’t care.

“Oh yeah?” He runs a hand over his head, in an attempt to wipe the nonexistent thing away, and you just smile at him, something that makes his cheeks heat.

“Here, let me get it.” You step forward, and tilt his head toward you. He’s so tall, you have to stand on your toes to look through his hair, for the absolute nothing that’s there. You pretend to pluck something out, and Jason thinks your tricks are over until you run your fingers over his scalp, and despite the tough guy reputation he’s built for himself, he practically purrs.

And just like that, you’ve won. You’ve got him like putty in your hands, and you laugh. Just a quiet chuckle, but it’s there nonetheless. Something that makes Jason just a little bit feral.

“How long are we gonna keep doing this?” His eyes fall down to lock on yours as you pause your actions, raising an eyebrow.

“Doing what?” You’re playing dumb, making him do all the hard work. He respects it though, considering he started all this, he may as well be the one to finish it.

He brings his hands to your hips, his touch warm even through the fabric over your skin. “This.” He puts emphasis on the word and punctuates it by squeezing your hips. To his delight, it’s you that’s purring now, allowing yourself to find pleasure in his touch.

“As long as it takes.” You answer finally, running your hands through his hair again, your nails trailing gently over the nape of his neck when you’re done.

“As long as it takes until what, exactly?” His voice has lowered, somewhere between a growl and a whisper. And you finally give him the answer he wants. The one he’s been craving since he found out how you felt.

“Until you fucking kiss me, Todd.” You would roll your eyes, but you’re so infatuated with him, with the way his streak of white hair falls effortlessly into his eyes, with the way his gaze is locked on you. And then he does it. He kisses you, after months of tests and teasing. After years of your pining for him.

And it sure is sweet.

-

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!! Please tell me your thoughts darlings!!!

JASON TODD TAGLIST: @princessbl0ss0m @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @eternltys

[reds-hoodies]

Blink and You’ll Miss It

Tags: Jason Todd X GN!Reader, Soulmate AU

Word Count: ~750

Author’s Note: a little break from smut lol and also I’m sorry if this isn’t the best! I’ve been in a pretty bad funk lately

This hasn’t been proofread so please lmk if there’s anything wrong!

Edit: fixed some grammar and stuff lol

Next

Your day had gone about as well as you expected: Terribly.

It was one inconvenience after another, each one chipping away at the last bit of patience you had left. Now that your day was done, the exhaustion weighed down on you heavy and unrelenting.

You just needed to get home to your tiny, dingy studio apartment, where you could collapse into bed. Maybe even eat something.

The subway car lurched as it rounded a bend, the overhead lights flickering in time with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. You were stood near the window, hands gripping the cold metal pole for balance, staring at your reflection in the glass.

Your own tired eyes stared back at you.

Then, movement. A shift in the darkness outside the window.

Your gaze flickered past your reflection to the tunnel wall beyond, except the concrete suddenly ended and an opening revealed another train running parallel to yours.

That’s when you saw him.

A man, standing near the window of the other train, looking directly at you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes were wide, mirroring your own shock. Maybe you should look away. Maybe he should. But neither of you did.

The world around you hushed. The hum of the subway, the distant chatter of passengers, the screech of metal on metal— it all faded into silence. As if the universe itself was holding its breath.

And then, color.

Soft at first, like water bleeding into ink. Then bolder, richer, unstoppable. It spread across your vision, washing over everything in waves, bringing the world to life in ways you’d never imagined.

The dull subway lights turned golden, the worn fabric of the seats now a deep blue, the flickering advertisements flashing red and green. The very air around you felt warmer, alive.

But none of it compared to the color in his eyes.

They were the epicenter of it all, like the first spark before a wildfire. Bright, breathtaking, and impossibly mesmerizing.

Your breath caught in your throat.

His lips parted slightly, as if he was about to say something, but the trains rattled forward, moving out of sync.

No..!

You took a step closer to the window, but it was too late. The tunnel walls swallowed the other train whole, the colors lingering in your vision even as the world around you dulled backed to the muted grey’s once more.

The subway rattled on while your heart hammered in your chest, your breath shallow.

That had to be your soulmate, it had to be. He had been right there. Close enough to see, close enough to reach for if only the glass hadn’t been in the way!

And now he’s gone.

But that brief moment had changed everything.

The train’s brakes screeched as it slowed into the station, jostling you forward. Had you not taken this route so many times before, you might have missed your stop, but habit guided your steps. It carried you up through the crowded station, your body moving on autopilot even as your mind remained trapped in the memory of the stranger.

His face lingered like an afterimage, every detail seared into your thoughts: The striking white streak in his dark hair, the sharp cut of his jaw, the scar on his cheek. And, again, his eyes…

The way his gaze had locked onto yours, startled yet intense, like he felt the same gravitational pull you had.

And though the hoodie he wore was baggy, you could tell he was broad-shouldered, strong. What did he do for a living?

But, more importantly: How were you going to find him again?

Questions fluttered through your mind like restless birds, each one more urgent than the last. If fate had been kind enough to show him to you, surely it wouldn’t just take him away.

Right?

At the top of the station stairs, you stopped.

Your fingers curled into fists as you made up your mind. You were going to find him.

How?

Well, you weren’t sure yet. But you waited your whole life to meet your soulmate and damn if you’re just going to let him slip through your fingers.

Next

[somnoir]

Down Bad in Distress

Bruce Wayne is kidnapped... A lot. And it's always so weird that only Batman is allowed to save him. That this dumb, charming, but kidnap-able Billionaire doesn't have a bodyguard.

Now, Bruce can simply go "Oh, we've got Batman. No need to worry for that!" But people are fussy nowadays. He underestimates just bow much Gotham loves their disaster of a prince with a golden heart. Even his company employees are begging him to hire a bodyguard. (This is from the many files being sent to his office, obvious recommendations on competent bodyguards)

Cut to the new bodyguard for hire—who was recommended by Alfred of all people (something about him being the disciple of a good old friend of his). The man was large. Fucking huge. Taller than Jason, if one would like to admit (Jason is his 6'4" baby and this fucking fridge if a man looked 6'6").

But he was all soft and warm. Like a golden retriever the size of a bear.

Anyways, Danny was a rather kind man. When he wasn't following Bruce around and playing bodyguard, he was indulging the kids. Entertaining them with the most obscure things and stories from his childhood. Better yet, Danny would be the kids' bodyguard rather than Bruce's whenever they went out.

It was a miracle when they realized that Damian wasn't reacting badly to the man. Very strange since Damian would think it'd be shameful for someone to protect him during the day. But then again, Bruce once saw Danny effortlessly pick up Damian so his son could coax a cat out of a tree. That was most likely the kicker.

Anyways, Danny looked and felt soft.

It wasn't easy for him to settle into the man's ever present presence, but it's been almost four months since Danny's been hired and Bruce doesn't even flinch when the man brightly greets him from the bottom of the stairs.

"Good morning, mr. Wayne!" Danny would say, all teeth and bright eyes in his suit.

"Bruce," he'd correct immediately.

And then Danny would pause, laugh, and— "Good morning, Bruce."

Then his kids would follow and Danny would affectionately greet them all, ask where they plan to go and if they needed Danny to follow.

His bodyguard was like sunshine and warmth incarnate.

But if course, Danny was a bodyguard.

There were instances where Bruce would have to take a second to remind himself that this man that would look down at socialites like he's ready to crush their hands is the same one who once gave him puppy-dog eyes to back up Damian when his son asked to keep the kittens.

That the same man who grabbed someone by the scruff of their collar like they were weightless was the same one who talked about poetry and literature with Jason.

That the man who once hauled Bruce off the ground and walked right out the gala when the smoke alarms blared is the same one who would gently coax Tim off the coach and into a proper bed.

But right now, that's not his concern. No. Bruce is more concerned about the fact that he's gotten kidnapped again.

Everyone was most likely alerted. They were. He could hear Red Robin, Blackbat and Spoiler talking over the comms, checking in on Red Hood and Robin in case things went off.

"B, don't move. These guys are more prepared than the usual ones." Tim's voice filters into the comms, evidently annoyed. "I've got Oracle checking if there are any bombs in the place."

Bruce stayed silent, watching the masked men and women walk around, guns in hand and crates surrounding them. He had been knocked out during a party. The last thing he saw was Danny's eyes—god, it frightened him a bit. How those pretty blues suddenly turned green like Jason's.

Then he was here. Most likely with a concussion.

"B?"

"I'm okay... Be careful..." He murmurs under his breath, hearing his children sigh in relief.

"Good. We've got Red Ho—What the fuck is that?" Barbara immediately cut herself off, her voice strained and pitched with surprise.

"Oracle?"

"Spoiler—Do you have a view on that?" Oracle frantically asked. "Shit—the cameras just went down. Guys?"

"is that—" Stephanie chokes out, "Is that Danny?"

Bruce froze. Danny?

Jason always knew that Danny was kinda off. The first time he met the man, it wasn't his size that Jason immediately noticed. It was how his eyes flashed green when they met his. At first, he felt threatened, ready to attack whatever the fuck thought it was a good idea to infiltrate his family.

But then... Then Danny smiled at him. Offered his hand with a kind greeting. Jason took that hand and... And felt calm. Like the buzz in his head melted away, like the Lazarus was cleansed.

And Danny most likely knew. Because the man was smiling in satisfaction, like he was pleased that Jason suddenly didn't feel starved and angry and hurt.

"I don't know what happened to you kid, but whatever the hell did, it wasn't good for you. Hopefully you'll get better now." Danny whispered softly and then withdrew his hand, tucking it behind his back.

Jason doesn't know what the fuck Danny was but the man was worth keeping around.

Admittedly, he turned to Danny a lot nowadays. Jason can't call Bruce all the time. No. His relationship with Bruce still isn't good enough to warrant Jason to call him constantly.

But Danny? Again, Jason doesn't know what the hell this guy is but whenever Jason was in trouble, he dialed Danny's phone immediately. And he came... Every, single, fucking time. No questions asked, just pick Jason up and patch him up like nothing.

Danny was a good guy. Like sunshine, like golden retrievers. All teeth with some fangs.

And that same guy just snapped a man's neck with his bare hands.

"Hood... Are you seeing this?" Robin asked beside him, equally stunned as they watched their usually kind and sweet bodyguard effortlessly tear through the group of men with his bare hands. There was already blood around. Everywhere, maybe. Some already on Danny.

"He's on a fucking warpath." Jason murmurs. Every bit of admiration he had for Danny just multiplied by a thousand when he watched him grab a gun right out of a guy's hand and slam it into their head. Fucking amazing.

If Bruce doesn't square up and ask this guy on a date, Jason would have to start planning to parent trap them.

Fucking shit, he needed this guy as a dad.

The doors don’t just open—they explode off their hinges, a violent crack echoing through the warehouse. Guns swing up, barrels glinting under harsh light, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except the figure in the doorway.

Bruce’s pulse slams against his ribs.

And then Danny walks in, dragging a half-conscious man by the leg, leaving a smeared trail of blood in his wake. He doesn’t even look winded.

Blood stains his usually pristine uniform—smeared across his face, streaked over the white of his shirt, soaking into his knuckles. His tie is gone. His collar is open, a few buttons undone, exposing a sliver of skin beneath the mess. There’s blood on his face, drying in streaks, and his knuckles—his knuckles are raw, dripping, alive. He looks… disheveled. Lethal. Gorgeous.

"HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! THAT'S DANNY!" Spoiler screeched, "HE'S BODYING THOSE FUCKERS! RED! RED, ARE YOU FUCKING SEEING THIS?!"

"SOMEONE RECORD THIS! SHIT! SOMEONE RECORD THIS!" Red Robin replied, equally loud and frantic as if trying desperately to find the old camera he used to stalk Bruce many years ago.

He doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t hesitate.

Danny launches the man he was dragging, sending him crashing into the nearest gunman with a sickening thud. Before anyone can react, he moves—crossing the room in impossibly fluid strides, twisting a wrist until a gun clatters to the floor, elbowing another man so hard in the ribs that something audibly cracks. A shot goes off, a wild, panicked attempt—Danny doesn’t even flinch. He snatches the arm holding the gun and bends it the wrong way. The scream is immediate.

Bruce’s breath catches.

Another man rushes Danny with a knife—big mistake. Danny catches his wrist mid-swing, wrenches it to the side with bone-snapping efficiency, then drives the same blade into another attacker’s thigh. The man howls, but Danny is already moving, slamming someone’s face into the nearest table hard enough to leave a smear of red on the wood.

They never stood a chance.

Two minutes. Two damn minutes, and the entire room is a battlefield of unconscious, broken bodies.

And Bruce cannot focus.

Bruce barely registers Jason swearing at him through the comms, telling him to get it together. He can’t.

And then Danny turns to him.

His face is splattered with blood, his chest rising and falling steadily as he steps forward. His hands, bruised and raw, reach out, and Bruce swallows hard.

Danny kneels, gaze flicking to Bruce’s bound wrists, and his touch—gentle, so gentle—works at the ropes with precise care. The knots had been tight, biting into his skin enough to bruise, to draw blood. Danny’s jaw clenches at the sight.

Bruce should say something. Should thank him. Should not be thinking about how unfairly attractive he looks like this—wild, wrecked, utterly devoted.

But he can’t help it.

He’s so gone.

"Mr. Wayne."

On instruct, Bruce corrects him. "Bruce."

And Danny pauses.

The chaos settles—not in the room, where bodies lay crumpled, groaning, and barely conscious—but in him. Just for a second. Just long enough for Bruce to see it.

Blue flickers into green. A warning. A promise.

Bruce doesn’t look away. Can’t. Even as Danny tilts his head, something unhinged curling at the edges of his smile. His chest rises and falls, slow, deliberate, the blood on his face catching the dim light. His knuckles, split and raw, flex at his sides before he exhales a laugh—low, sharp, guttural.

Almost a growl.

And Bruce—God help him—feels something thrill in his spine.

Then Danny takes his wrists. Carefully. Reverently. Those same hands that had snapped bones and silenced screams mere moments ago now hold Bruce’s bruised, bloodied skin like it’s something precious.

Then—cold.

Not warm. Not comforting. Cold lips, pressing soft against each wound, his touch featherlight against the raw skin. Bruce shudders.

Danny pulls back just enough for Bruce to see his lips—stained red with his blood. And he grins, sharp fangs more prominent than ever, his eyes molten with something Bruce can’t name.

"Bruce…"

Danny says it like a prayer. Like a promise. Like a goddamn claim.

Exasperated. Excited. Fond. And something else entirely.

"Try not to get kidnapped again, Bruce… Or I might just end up blowing up Gotham to get you back.

Bruce’s breath stutters.

Oh.

Oh, no.

Bruce is so utterly gone.

(Someone laughs in the background, shadows curling at their feet. Lady Gotham is pleased.)

Part 2 | Masterpost

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[charlietheepicwriter7]

The Joker was apprehended, sitting on the ground as Batman guarded him, but the kid--"Bruce Wayne's newest ward, how tragic! Hehehe!"--was nowhere to be found. Nightwing and Red Hood desperate searched the warehouse until a shuffling noise grabbed their attention.

A kid, black haired just like the kid in the Joker's broadcast, crawling out of a pile of boxes. "Is it over?" the boy asked quietly.

Nightwing guided him to the only exit, unfortunately walking past the boy's own kidnapper. "Yeah, kid. It's over. Come on-"

Like a shot, the boy rushed the Joker and kicked him right in the balls.

The Joker wheezed like a dying squeaky toy. Red Hood froze. Nightwing immediately snatched the boy up by the armpits, but all that did was give the boy the height to attack again, punting Joker in the jaw. The clown went down and cracked his head on the floor. He did not get back up.

There was a moment of silence before Red Hood roared with laughter, his helmet distorting the sound.

[ashoss]

tim drake wanting to make a podcast is s o funny to me like yeah thats my tim