#Him being wary around Jason

[luriuan]

Hello twitch chat. Percy getting comfortable around Jason and getting close with him and beginning to recover from Gabe because just because Jason is physically stronger and bigger doesn’t mean he will hurt Percy and- (yeah sure Jason was possessed which makes Percy a bit wary again, but still guys listen to me trust me on this-)

[max-nolastname]

was wondering when superman (its not easy), the best song of the 2000s, was going to show up on smallville .... to have it show up in this season in this episode for this scene makes me wanna [muffled crying screaming sobbing into a pillow]

context: s1 of smallville runs on a very monster of the week format. clark runs into a runaway named kyle who has the ability to read minds, which his parents used to get rich. the kents briefly foster him, and clark temporarily has a younger brother who knows about his powers, and who understands what its like to have powers you need to hide from others.

i think its one of the best episodes of the season, i think it did a great job of examining how lonely clark feels at being so different, and how he could have really benefited from a brother who felt the same. i wasnt expecting the corny superman show to have some of the best clark kent characterization/storylines that ive seen but here we are!! 

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #45

Danny becoming Jason's mom!

Because picture it! Jason, though been out of the Lazarus Pits for so long, fought against his entire being-his core! And because all of the fighting and resisting his new self caused it to repress into a smaller state. Thus, he had the core of a child, despite being an adult. It also doesn't help that he died as a child and clung unto his trauma.

But Jason didn't know this and continued with his former crime lord/vigilante lifestyle. Thinking that the rage pits was the only thing he had to be wary of and not what happens if he meets someone else that was from the Lazarus Pits or something similar.

He experienced this phenomenon when he took a walk through the park in his civilian attire as a change of pace and to clear his mind for the moment. The last mission he had with Bruce

As he walked, the sound of children laughter caused him to look up and see what was going on. In the park, two kids-siblings no doubt, were having a ball in the park simply chasing each other in their own version of tag. It was domestic enough to smile softly at the sight, a quiet chuckle escaping him.

Jason looked around to see if their parents were around watching them. And right on a bench was no doubtedly their parent. With black hair that seem to gleam in the direct light and blue eyes that seemed to be an impossible shade of blue. And those eyes were fondly watching the children laying around the park on their own.

Suddenly, Jason found himself under the heavy gaze of those eyes. Fondness turning to curiosity and hostility to longer he stared.

Snapping out his thoughts, he believed it was best to make a bit of small talk after no doubt seeming like a creep staring at them so intently.

Casually, or trying to seem casual, Jason approached them keeping his shoulders lax as not to seem as not too much of a threat. But the closer he got, the more this unfamiliar feeling bubbled within his chest. It wasn't the blinding rage that he usually associated with the pit. No, it was something different. Something positive.

It felt like a bubbling warmth that had the pits screaming for more. That the warmth was there. This person would take care of them. This person could help with the pits. This person was his-

"Momma." Jason murmured as he stared at the male, eyes widening with mortification as he realized that he said that out loud for the person to hear. He also realized that the pits had him in such a daze that he didn't realize that he had walked right over and sat next to the mystery person without a second thought.

Jason waited for them to react. To be called a creep or for them to storm away after gathering their children from where they were playing. Hell, he even expected them to scream and hit him in some manner.

Instead, he was met with eyes of confusion as well. The person beside him tilting their head as if debating something.

Then, Jason would've thought he imagined it if he wasn't looking at them, his eyes flashed green. The familiar pit green that Jason hated seeing. But his green held no anger or hatred that he was familiar with.

After their eyes returned to their icy blue, the person gave Jason an understanding smile. As if they knew why he called them that.

"Well, you're a bit older than my kids, but I'm sure we could work this out." The person said with a chuckle, reaching up and affectionately patting his shoulder. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Jason felt as if his mouth dry as thought of how to answer. Was this weird? How could they be so calm about him walking up and calling them momma? Was this something pit related? How did this person know about the pits?

"Jason, mo-" He bit his lip as the name momma almost slipped out again. Instead, he coughed into his hand before looking at them again. "It's Jason."

The person chuckled affectionately at his hesitance. "Jason." The repeated with a fond smile. The way they said his name causing a familiar warmth to flutter in his chest that he hasn't felt in a while.

"I bet momma is a bit sudden since we just met and all." The person teased, smiling up at him. "But instead you're free to call me Danny if you want."

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy)

Chapter 1

The expectant smiles froze on his siblings’ faces.

Jason blinked, still shaking off the disorientation of the green twisting blur that always came when he took his turn with tHe RitUaL. “What?” he said. It came out defensive. Usually they were all laughing by this point.

Dick reached out and took the post-it off his forehead. “We may have misunderstood this sacrificial thing.” He frowned at the note.

Jason tore it away and flipped it around to read it.

“...Please stop the bridal sacrifices,” he read, voice instantly trembling with the need to laugh. Holy shit. “Proposal is kinda forward. But if you really want, I’d totally go on a date with you. Check yes or no. Danny.” There were two smiley faces after the name and a scribbled drawing of a human looking guy with tall hair.

The batcave was in total, mortified silence. The ritual that had become their pre-patrol goof-off activity of choice had maybe… maybe been a mistake?

“I’m kinda hurt,” Dick broke the silence. “I’m marriageable. I’m a catch, even.” He was joking, but Jason was pretty sure that it wasn’t totally baseless. Who would look at Dick and then choose Jason, of all the people?

Stephanie snorted. “It’s probably your reputation as Ritchie Rich,” she soothed. “I’m sure if this… is it the same guy every time?” She blinked, clearly distracted from her original thought. “Have we all been proposing to Danny day after day?” She wondered. She started counting on her fingers.

“Twice last week,” Tim said thoughtfully. “I proposed to him twice last week.” A line formed between his brows. “I should probably tell Bernard, huh?”

“We must communicate with whoever this Danny is,” Damian said immediately. “If this realm possesses both animal life that resembles our fauna and sentient beings capable of the bad judgment necessary to select Todd as a suitor over Richard, we must know more.”

Jason made a face at Damian and flipped him off, but didn’t disagree. “How is this supposed to work?” He waved the post-it. That did imply some modernity, at least. They were communicating with someone who had stationary. “If I was going to check it, would he know what I picked? Or would I have to– should be bride sacrifice a notebook back and forth?”

“A notebook,” Tim said scathingly. “We can do better than that. A communicator, a phone.”

“Who says Danny has signal, dingbat,” Jason shot back. “He’s probably out of the service area.”

Cass took the paper out of his hand and peered at it. “Yes or no,” she asked, cutting off the disagreement before it could get heated.

He didn’t have to think about it. “Yes,” Jason said, mischief in every line of his body. “I gotta see where this is going. We should at least meet the guy.”

“He said you were tempting!” Dick gasped. He grabbed Jason by the arm and clung on. “Remember? The first time? You’re his type!”

Damian made a ‘gross’ face, features scrunched up like an unhappy cat. Stephanie ‘ooooed’ like she was watching a wrestling match. Cass merely looked thoughtful.

Jason shook his annoying brother off and kept him at a distance with a palm on Dick’s forehead.

“Oooh, the void boy has a crush on you,” Stephanie teased. “You’d be such a beautiful bride, Jason.” She didn’t react to Cass reaching into her hip pouch and withdrawing a sparkly purple pen. Jason loftily ignored Stephanie and watched Cass carefully check YES.

The note disappeared. Cass looked at her empty hand. She flicked the pen between her fingers. Her brow scrunched up.

“Shit!” Jason cursed. “Did-”

The group broke out into an explosion of excited sound.

A throat cleared from the stairs. “Kids?”

Batman stood there, wearing wary suspicion and most of his patrol outfit. He was under the impression that they had agreed to stop sacrificing each other to the green void.

“She took my pen,” Stephanie wailed, instantly switching tracks. Cass backflipped away three times and then leapt directly upwards into the rafters, waiving the purple pen tauntingly. Stephanie chased after her.

“What-”

“Jason won’t let me hug him,” Dick tattletailed. He lunged to grab at Jason. Jason dodged on reflex and threw himself into the scuffle.

“I need to call Bernard.” Tim turned and outright left the Batcave. “I’ll be about five minutes late for patrol, B.”

Bruce watched this chaos with bewildered eyes. “...We leave in ten,” he said, and visibly gave up.

…

The date, when it came, was a fuckin surprise to Jason. He was minding his own business compiling a report on everything the Two-Facers had done last week. (There was a surprising amount of bureaucratic process involved in making yourself the judge, jury, and executioner of people who sucked.)

And then there was a violently green hole in his wall. “Huh,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. He pulled the handgun out of his desk drawer and cocked it at the portal. “Not sure I care for that.”

“Thanks, wolf,” came a warbled and nonsensical reply. Jason turned off the safety.

His brow furrowed. “What?”

The portal flashed white and it closed. He was lifting his gun to point at the man now standing in his apartment before he’d actually processed that someone had come through. This guy moved fast.

“This is where you live?” The other man was peering around Jason’s apartment. He seemed politely interested at best, and, Jason felt, much less concerned by the gun than he should have been. “I heard bats before. I thought there would be more bats.” His tone was disappointed. He looked at Jason and then flinched his palms out and up, as if he thought he might have come off rude. “Not that you need bats! Or that I’m disappointed by the lack of bats in your decor. In fact you have wonderful, uh, curtains.” He very obviously named the first thing that he saw. He pretended to be fascinated by them. “The red sure is a choice.”

Jason snorted.

“A great choice! I’m not criticizing your home. It’s great.”

Jason realized that if he didn’t say anything to save him, Danny was going to ramble himself into a verbal corner and slink out of the dimension to escape his obvious embarrassment.

“...You hair looks just like in the picture you drew,” Jason said. He put the safety back on. “Hello, Danny.” The name tasted odd in his mouth. It twas just a little pedestrian for the other man– no, teenager, the other teenager.

Danny looked young. No wonder he’d thrown Dic back like the wrong fish.

Jason felt a little less smug about having been the one chosen. Maybe he was just the most age appropriate candidate, not Danny’s type. Timmers was only two years younger, sure, but he was petite enough that it was a little ambiguous.

Danny turned away from Jason’s window and beamed up at him like that was the greated compliment he could have ever received. “I don’t actually have your name! Which is funny, since you kept manifesting in my house.”

God help him, Danny was cute. Jason reached out a hand. “Jason.”

Danny looked at his outstretched hand and then back to his eyes. He blinked. “Are- oh!” He flushed green and his hand shot out to meet Jason’s in what was very clearly the first handshake of his life.

It was a struggle not to laugh. He didn’t wanna make Danny feel bad so he held it in. There was a helpful distraction in that Danny was fascinating to the touch. It didn’t feel like he was touching a human hand. First off, the hand was about the temperature of butter straight from the fridge. Secondly, somehow the physical contact made Jason taste mint in his mouth.

But really, it just… it didn’t feel like human skin. It was too smooth. There was a raised line from a scar, but the texture was as if all the wrinkles and pores of human skin had been polished off. Like if you held the hand of a marble statue and it was somehow also soft.

Jason pulled his hand away before he could wonder too much if that supernatural smoothness extended elsewhere. Ah. Too late. He flushed a little red, even though the only exposed skin was Danny’s hands and face. “So you’re here to uh, set up a date?” he offered.

Danny blinked at him. “Are you busy now? I was thinking now.”

…He was sort of busy. Jason closed his notebooks, only now concerned that Danny might have seen extremely sensitive information. “Nope,” he lied, attention catching on Danny’s freckles. Something about them was pinging as relevant. Was there a pattern? They weren’t symmetrical or anything. Were they fake?

Danny beamed and - he floated up a few inches in his excitement. Holy hell that was cute. “Great!” he enthused. “Should we go to your place or to mine?”

Uh.

Jason turned violently red. “We are already in my place.” His voice came out tight. He- he hadn’t meant that. That was not a first date activity for him.

It took a few seconds for the penny to drop. “Go out in your city or go to the Ghost Zone!” Danny waved his hands frantically. “I’m not being a creep I swear! I mean, we are kind of spiritually engaged but I’m also engaged to– are those people your friends and family?” He was outright horrified. “Oh my GOD, I’m-”

“I would love to take you out around town, but you’ll stand out,” Jason interrupted. He couldn’t hold back the smile. “We can make it work, though. Thoughts on hats and glowing less?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Danny twitched his hands outward in a motion he probably didn’t even know he was doing. There was another flash of white light that crawled up and down his body.

And Danny one was gone. Danny two stood in Jason’s apartment with dark hair, patched jeans, and a loose t-shirt that hid the musculature his jumpsuit had displayed. He had a full palette switch of his eyes and skin tone as well.

He was obviously the same guy. He just felt more down to earth now.

“Useful,” Jason said, and tugged at his snow-white forelock. “Think you could teach me to change my hair like that?” He was only half joking. It was the bane of his existence when he needed to go undercover. It was too distinctive.

“No, but Doctor Frostbite might be able to sort that out for you,” Danny replied absently.

Jason grimaced instinctively. He knew way too many gimmicky villains to want to do to someone called Doctor Frostbite. “That sounds like the name of a B-tier villain with blue hair.”

Danny paused and clearly contemplated it. “That’s Ember, actually,” which made no branding sense because the word ember evoked warm colors. “Lead the way!” He bounced on his heels, which Jason guessed was his human form equivalent to floating up.

Jason cleared his throat. “I, uh, am gonna want to change.”

For the first time, Danny really looked him up and down and realized that he was wearing a white sleeveless undershirt and black boxers. Jason waited patiently as Danny went through all the stages of grief and social mortification. That didn’t stop Danny’s eyes from followed Jason’s bare arms when he casually lifted one and flexed a little, rubbing at the back of his head. Ha. Eat that, Dick.

“I’m going to go drown myself,” Danny said, now violently pink. Huh, even blushing for a color change. “Can I use your restroom?”

“Stay alive enough to pick between Korean or Mexican,” Jason advised. “I’ll be right back. Should I find you a coat?” He didn’t wait for an answer, frowning at Danny’s bare arms. “I’m gonna find you a coat.” He was already on the way to his bedroom. “It’s freezing out.”

…

[dcxdpdabbles]

Cave boy Danny. What if he offhandedly mentions his parents being THERE (as in not dead) and being Doctors (not the same kind of doctors Bruce's parents are) and things like that and doesn't realize that the batfam starts thinking that this? This is what's different with this Bruce. He didn't lose his parents and thus does not grow up wanting vengeance, and his parents are similar in personalities but in a different field!

Now Danny is still as casual young Bruce as ever but the others are just freeking out around him.

Things are strange for a while. Danny knows that his actions have caused the Waynes to be....wary around him. Even Jason- who honestly threw a whole ass parade for Gotham in celebration of Joker's death- seemed to be tense around him.

Danny can't really say he blames them. He still doesn't know why Phantom reacted the way it did- a bit alarming. His ghost side marked Joker as a threat from the moment it laid eyes on him- a threat that could not and would not be reasoned with.

His ghost -half attacked, knowing that Joker's existence threatened his core. A core that was created from the desire to keep his friends safe at the moment of his death. (He had known he would die the moment the portal's electricity hit him- and Danny had not been mournful of his end but rather horrified that Tucker or Sam could have followed him to the afterlife. His last thought as a human was Please let me live long enough to keep them safe.)

Never has that happened before- not even when faced with Vlad or Dan. It was strange to watch Phantom attack and not be in equal amounts of control within his body.

Phantom has always felt a part of him but also not. Danny had once tried to explain it to Jaz, only to end up frustrated when she tried to paint Phantom as a different personality that shared the mind-space with Danny.

Danny knows Phantom isn't like that.

He's not another person- Phantom is Danny in the same sense that Danny is alive but dead. For the same reason, Danny is the flipped color scheme of Phantom. They are one, just viewed differently.

Or maybe they saw the world differently?

It's hard to say and even harder to put into words.

The closest Danny could come to explain was an example Tucker gave him. Someone is the same but acts ultimately differently online, even when they aren't trying to catfish someone.

It's the fact they are behind a screen that gives them just the extra amount of courage. Tuck had said.

Ancients, he misses Tuck. His ship is not ready to venture into his Ghost Zone- hell, if Danny is honest, it's barely able to move. He is trying his best to get it working, but it's slow going. Too slow, even with Wayne's generosity.

"Master Brucie," Alfred started, pausing just within the doorframe of Danny's room until invited in. He does that now, keeping to his manners as though Danny was a guest of the Waynes. Not someone who he can be so familiar with.

It stings to know his killing had lost him the right to be treated as a stranger when Alfred had always treated him as young Bruce Wayne the moment he was found.

"Yes?" He asks, trying to smile. It falls flat, but it's worth the effort.

Alfred's face stays impassive, and Danny tries to tell himself that he doesn't care. He's not a young Bruce Wayne. He wants nothing to do with the Wyanes'.

"There are more gifts for you." The bulter says. "Shall I bring them to your room?"

Danny has received a lot of fan mail since his actions were leaked to the public. Everyone knew that Joker was taken out by Danny Kane. And there wasn't a single person in Gotham who hadn't been hurt or known someone injured by the madman.

He is being praised as a hero.

For murder.

Danny can't find it in himself to feel guilty about it. Joker needed to die. He had too many chances to change, and too many people got hurt.

"That's okay. I'll go downstairs and look through them. I feel like watching a movie anyway." He shrugs his shoulders while strolling to the door in his lazy stride.

Alfred steps out of his way, bowing ever so slightly. "Very good sir."

Sir.

That stings.

Danny doesn't bring it up or mention that Alfred keeps a safe space between them. Not enough that it would be rude, but definitely one of a servant following a master instead of a man who thought him the younger version of his son.

When they arrive at the room, he is surprised to find a white shipping cart filled to the brim with packages and letters waiting for him. Standing beside the cart, flipping through the envelopes, is Tim.

He has yet to see much of Tim. Not since Danny proved his doubts weren't as unfound as Danny actively tried to convince the other teen of.

No time like the present.

"Hey, Tim." He calls just to mentally get the other prepared for his approach. As expected, Tim whips around with a narrow eye-ed glare that does nothing to hide his distaste for Danny. Alfred follows them into the room but stays by the door at an appropriate distance. "Anything good?"

"Good, how?" Tim bites, and Danny fights to not roll his eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe a letter from my mom saying I'm a good boy or another football from dad-"

"I beg your pardon?" Alfred cuts him off- which, okay, that's never happened before. The butler has never overstepped his position- even when they thought him harmless little Brucie- to talk over him.

Danny turns to find the man pasty white, looking both cautiously overjoyed and wishful. "Did you make a joke about your parents, Master Brucie?"

"Ugh, Yeah? Why?"

"Young sir, are- are your parents alive?"

Danny is floored by the choked-up emotion in that one sentence that all he can do is nod. Tim drops the package he was checking over, his jaw slacked, and staring at Danny like having parents was the answer of the universe.

"Thomas and Martha Wayne are alive in your universe.." Tim all but breaths. "They are alive and have more than one kid."

"Why is that a big deal?" Danny asks, unable to himself. "What happened to Bruce's parents here?"

"Master Thomas was a doctor," Alfred says, ignoring Danny's question. But he now hears the answer in the past tense when referring to Bruce's parents. "Is he still in your world?"

"Yes, and so is my mom." PHD doctors, but they don't need to know that.

"That's why you like this." Tim slumps into the chair closest to him. Danny is mightily alarmed that he seems pale now. "That's why you don't know anything about Batman. He was never inspired. You....you really are a civilian."

Danny will deny that he fleed the room when Tim burst into tears till the day he died. He does not look back even when Alfred yells for his return. He has outstayed his welcome.

He slips into his room, grabs anything not nailed down with any form of technology, and then activates his intangibility. He sinks down down, and down, to the caves. He knows where the Bats work, knows where to go from his nights where he tried to work on ship.

He flies in that direction, knowing he will never see the Waynes again. Not after realizing how much pain his lies have unwillingly caused.

Master Post Link

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[sanguineterrain]

Feel like I’m so basic but Jason Todd with a crush and him having zero social skills and just being super clumsy despite being highly competent when he’s in the field. Crush is like real sweet and kind maybe a service worker ✨

anon u are so true and real for this bc jason is definitely an unsocialized cat when he has a crush 💓

jason todd x gn!reader. shyish/anxious jason with a big fat crush. baker reader. annoying customer. the duality of jason todd. 1.6k words.

also i fully believe that silently leaving huge tips as a way to flirt is like. a wayne trait. 100% that family does that bc of bruce.

prompt lists are here! i reblog all fics to @sanguinelibrary

****

Business has been slow.

It's not like you expect your cafe to be packed to the rafters all day long, but you've had a grand total of four customers today. One of them only came in to ask where Starbucks was.

Frankly, you're not sure the cafe can afford to stay afloat for much longer. Gotham isn't known to preserve small businesses, and the conglomerates (cough, Wayne Enterprises) are taking over the world anyway.

So today is a reading day. You might even close early.

You're at a table in the back, so absorbed in Poirot's sleuthing that you don't hear the door open. It isn't until you turn the page and look up that you see your resident lurker waiting quietly at the display case. You flinch so hard that you spill iced tea on your jeans.

"Shit," you murmur, grabbing a wad of napkins and patting yourself dry.

Jason (as is written on his coffee cup) looks up from the pastries, teal eyes wide. You smile briefly at him. For such a big guy, his footsteps are astonishingly soft.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, voice rough like he doesn't speak much.

"Yeah, fine. You just startled me—I didn't hear you come in. Were you waiting long? Sorry about that."

"Oh. No, I wasn't. Sorry." He shifts weight between his feet. "You seemed pretty engrossed in your book. I didn't, uh, want to disturb you."

"Oh, hey, don't worry about that! It's literally my job to be here," you say, though you can't help but melt over how freaking sweet that is.

Jason visits you a minimum of twice a week. He's been coming for a couple of weeks. You know a whole three things about him: he's a university student, he pretty much only dresses in red or black, and he's unfairly cute.

At first, you were reasonably wary of him because it's Gotham, and he's so damn quiet. It's a little scary. You thought maybe he was an undercover spy casing the joint. Now you know he's just awkward.

"Slow day?" he asks.

"Slow year, more like. How are you? How was your exam?"

He blinks. "Exam?"

"Didn't you have an American lit exam last week?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Wow. Yes, I did. It was okay. Got an A."

"That's great! I knew you'd ace it."

His cheeks turn pink. Okay, you actually know four things about him: he blushes a lot.

You go to start the coffee machine. "Do you think you'll—"

"I-I have to go."

You watch, stunned, as he hurries out the door. That's when you notice the fifty dollar bill in your tip jar.

You don't know if you should bring up yesterday. Jason's back; that probably means everything's fine, right? You're not sure if you said something wrong, though. You've gone over the interaction a hundred times since and you can't figure out why he's so skittish around you.

"Hi. Hibiscus tea, please," he says, stoic as always.

You prepare his order, yesterday's interaction still fresh in your head. You should say something, shouldn't you? Or...

"Sorry about yesterday," Jason blurts, so fast you almost miss it. "Running out, I mean. I was, uh—I forgot something."

Well. Looks like he's going to bring it up for you.

"Oh, you don't have to apologize! If I said something wrong..."

Jason shakes his head fervently. "No, God no. You're perfect."

Your eyebrows shoot up. He turns red this time.

"I mean—not perf—well, you're amazing, don't get me wrong! Except, like, what is perfect, y'know? My brother has gotten into the habit of calling everything perfection like some kind of sitcom character. Alfred will make pie, and Dick'll go, "Alfie, that was perfection." And I feel like it's such an exaggeration—"

Jason's mouth snaps closed. He rubs his forehead.

"Um, I actually have chronic foot-in-mouth disease. It gets really, stupidly bad. Sorry."

You're trying hard not to giggle. You want to smother him in frosting and take a bite.

"You're really sweet, you know that?" you say.

"I'm really not," he says with a sigh.

"Not true. Can you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

You go into the kitchen and return with your latest experiment: matcha cream puffs.

"Do you mind trying these for me? You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

Jason's shoulders hunch. "Are you sure you want my opinion?"

"Of course I'm sure," you say happily. "I trust you."

"You trust me," he repeats quietly.

"Yup!"

Jason takes a puff and bites. He starts to nod.

"It's really good. You're really—all your creations are—yeah. It's good."

You squint. "No notes? Really?"

"They're perfection, as my brother would say."

Fuck, you like him so much.

"Have another one," you say, pushing the tray towards him.

"I shouldn't—"

"Wait! I'll pack you some!" you interrupt, flitting back to the kitchen to get a Tupperware.

Jason helplessly accepts the container of puffs you shove into his hands.

"Let me pay-" he tries to say, but you shake your head.

"Nope! I won't accept payment for these. Not from my favorite customer."

"Your favorite?"

"My favorite," you confirm, grinning.

"Oh." His ears turn pink as he walks to the door, cream puffs in hand. "Uh, right. Thanks. See you tomorrow."

"Jason? Don't you want your tea?"

"Shit. Yeah." He returns to the counter and takes his drink. This he insists on paying for, so you let him, because you do have rent to pay, after all.

"So nice to see you!" you add, because the stiffness in his gait is kind of throwing you off.

He just nods, slipping out the door as quietly as he came.

Today, Jason's in a red workout tank. You have to make the conscious effort to not ogle his arms.

"Hey, Jason!" you say cheerily.

"Hi," he says softly.

"The usual?" you ask, and he looks up in surprise.

"You know my order?"

You gently roll your eyes. "Of course I know your order, silly. Favorite customer, remember?"

"Oh." He looks away, brow furrowed. Then he turns to you and his expression smooths over. "Yes, please. Thanks."

"Sure. Give me one second? I just have to finish decorating some sugar cookies."

"Take your time," Jason says, then goes to skulk by the window.

The door is suddenly swung harder than necessary, thumping the glass.

"Hey!"

You look up from the cookies. A man in a suit is waving his phone impatiently.

"I ordered a dozen muffins. Where are they, huh?" he demands.

"Oh, right! Well, you called ten minutes ago, so they won't be ready till six, sir. Can I get you something while you wait?"

He scoffs and stomps to the counter. You almost back down, but you don't; that's exactly what these bullies want.

"This is exactly why no one eats at dinky cafes like yours. You can't even do this!" he fumes, shoving a finger in your face.

"Sir, like I said, the muffins are baking..."

"I know the city's health inspector personally," the man spits viciously. "One call, and I can—"

"Say one more word."

You blink as Jason is suddenly between you and the customer, stood at his full height. He's all muscle and broad shoulders, looming over the guy. You peek around him.

"What the fuck, man?" the angry customer squawks. "Move!"

"No, you move," Jason says, tone lethal. "Sit quietly at a table and wait for your muffins to bake. Then you can thank the nice baker for waiting on your sorry ass and you're not gonna come back. They have far more patience for entitled fucks than I do."

"Fuck you," the man spits.

Jason calmly closes the distance between them and whispers in his ear, hand like a vice around the jerk's shoulder. You watch as he turns pale, eyes growing wider.

"Sound good?" Jason asks pleasantly, all teeth. The man gapes at him.

Wow. Yeah. This is really doing something for you.

The oven dings. You go to retrieve the muffins, packing them as quickly as possible. You give him the box and the man nods.

"Thanks," he mumbles, then scurries out of the store.

Jason turns to you, and it's like looking at a completely different person.

"You okay?" he asks, posture stiff like he's still prepared for a fight.

You nod, a little dazed.

"Yeah. Wow. Jason, I... you didn't have to do that. I mean, thank you for doing it, but..."

"Hey, that guy was a jackass. And if you have trouble with him or anyone else, call me, okay?"

This side of him stuns you. If you didn't know better, you'd think he had this exchange regularly.

"Call you?" you ask, smiling. "How will I call you if I don't have your number?"

He freezes, eyes wide. "Oh. Uh. Um..."

You lean over, elbows on your counter. He watches you. You cup your hand around your mouth, pretending to divulge a secret.

"This is where you, the cute guy who frequents my struggling cafe, gives me your number."

"You think I'm cute?" he asks.

"Devastatingly so," you say, grinning.

He's quiet for a long moment. Your smile starts to dim.

"Did I read this wrong?" you ask. "If I came off too strong..."

"No!" he says a little too loud. Jason winces. "Sorry. No. I... you're... fuck, I'm not good at this. I don't even really drink tea or coffee, to be honest. I just come in to see you."

"You do?"

Jason sighs. "Yeah. Shit. That's creepy, isn't it?"

You laugh and he visibly softens.

"No, Jason," you say warmly. "It's sweet."

"So can I still ask you on a proper date? Not coffee."

You grin. "That would be perfection."

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

Jason can clearly say that becoming a halfa was the best thing that ever happened to him.

If not for the lack of green in his head now a days than it’s because of all the new material he now has to fuck with his family.

He has successfully tricked B into thinking he can stick to things like Spider-Man instead of just turning off gravity.

Damian is now much more wary about threatening people with his sword now that Jason let him cut off a hand without telling him it would grow back.

Currently, he’s slowly gaslighting his brothers into thinking he’s pregnant.

Man, he has really been enjoying his new ability to turn invisible.

Dick, flicks on the closet light: okay now that everyone’s here-

Danny: why am I here again? I’m not even adopted.

Dick: you and I both know that it’s not because B hasn’t offered in his own emotionally constipated way. Anyways we are here to discuss the elephant in the room, Tim, the board.

*Tim, whipping Sheet off, revealing a cork board with strings*

Damian: Grayson. Drake. this is getting ridiculous.

Tim: but it makes sense. Last week Jason started looking up pregnancy symptoms! He claimed they were so that he could help his girls out but then why did he use his personal computer for this “research”?

Dick: now this wouldn’t be concerning in of itself but the last few days Jason’s fighting style has changed.

Tim: he’s still being out “hard hitter” but his style has suddenly became more defensive and focused on blocking his center and core.

Dick: he has also been complaining about aching back and weight gain! He hasn’t drank in two weeks and I swear I saw a bump last night while changing!

Tim: the nausea, the dizzy spells! He was searching up doctors last night!

Damian: Have you buffoons forgotten the fact that Todd is in fact a cis male?

Danny: Actually he’s a halfa, so gender isn’t quite as strict on him anymore.

Dick: .. what do you mean?

Danny: well, ghost are just made of emotions..? So besides a core everything is just subjective preference? Sure he’s not full dead but there’s only like four of us so we don’t really have a lot of knowledge on the inner workings so..

Batfam: …

Damian: Dear lord Todd is with child

Tim: how’re we telling Bruce?

Dick: forget Bruce, HOW ARE WE BREAKING THIS TO ALFRED??

Batboys: *frantic bickering*

Danny: *fazes into the room next door*

Danny: So why did you choose pregnancy of all things?

Jason, gleefully snickering as he brings his head out of the wall: Steph made a bet that I couldn’t and now she has to run around in the scaly pants again for a week!

[denileisariver]

pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader

summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems.

warnings: dark!bruce, established relationships, male and female masturbation, descriptions of male and female genitalia, voyeurism, another age gap fic cuz i love dilf!bruce, reader is described as a vigilante and being dicks friend, some non-consensual touching kinda, no piv unfortunately :(, reader is also described as having hair long enough to pull, one tiny use of the word 'baby', size kink if you squint, some overall darkish batfam? not rlly but I'll tag them as yandere anyway.

a/n: tbh i jus pulled this outta nowhere and have no idea where this might lead but fuck it we ball.

you had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into.

your new life at wayne manor was fast-paced and quite absurd. the transition from living in a cramped dorm with one girl to an ancient mansion with a bunch of other heroes whose lives you could barely keep up with hit you like a ton of bricks, it gave you whiplash.

you'd been friends with dick grayson ever since the two of you were teenagers. he was always someone you could easily bond with. whether it was about school, relationships, or being a vigilante the majority of the short time the both of you had been on this earth, he was always there for you. he was your best friend.

you never really had anyone you would consider family. orphaned at such a young age, you grew up to be cautious of other people, always wary that they would abandon you or find ways to exploit you.

at the beginning of your friendship with dick, you had honestly been quite jealous of the older male. you knew it was a bit selfish, but you couldn't help it. there was always a small part of you that despised him for being taken in by a wealthy man who could support him at his every whim, his newfound family that seemed to only grow bigger and bigger each time you saw him. how despite all the terrible things he had been through, he managed to find happiness, or at least content in his life.

and you wanted that, too.

but you always buried those feelings deep down. it wasn't his fault, and you couldn't blame him for it either, so you pretended it was never there in the first place. instead, you put on a brave face. it wasn't too difficult, and for some short moments, you did truly believe that you were happy, regardless of how out of place you felt sometimes around dick and his brothers and sisters.

brothers and sisters. those words were so foreign to you, that when you looked over the relationships you had with dick and his family, you almost had a sort of epiphany. none of them were blood related at all, but they went through thick and thin together no matter what. and a small part of you hoped, wished, that maybe you could be apart of that too.

maybe it was all just irrational.

dick and you had spent a lot of time together. at school, at the justice league headquarters, fighting side by side at unholy hours of the night, or just casual hangouts. you knew him well enough to catch that subtle look in his eyes whenever he looked at you. pity. it was there whenever he brought up what parties bruce was throwing for one of the kids' birthdays, or how tim and jason got into another petty fight that he had to resolve, damian getting awards at school that the family had to attend.

all experiences and problems that you never had, and probably never would. at least, that's what you thought, up until now.

"why don't you come stay wayne manor?"

at first, the question caught you off guard. sure, you spent countless of sleepovers at the place, and you'd known a decent amount about it to get around by yourself with ease, but still. you never considered the possibility of actually staying there. and by the look on dick's face, he seems to notice that too. "i meant- if you want. i just know how lonely it can be for you sometimes, and it would just be easier for us, y'know with our nighttime activities and-"

your eyes roll at his quick rambling, internally cringing a bit at the prospect of him mentioning you being fucking lonely. you flash him a weak smile, your tone dripping with sarcasm.

"sheesh, dick, thanks." you don't mean to sound so harsh, but it's difficult when all of this is so personal to you.

"i didn't mean it like that. and it's no big deal, really. we have plenty of space, and im sure bruce won't mind. maybe alfred, since he has to pick up after your ass but-" dick continues, shrugging it off like it really didn't mean anything. like he wasn't asking you to pack up your shit and move in with him and his family. "you're always welcome there."

and at that, your heart softens a bit. of course, you knew that, but even when you stayed over for a weekend or two, you never wanted to feel like you were overstaying. "i'll think about it, dick."

and you did. you thought about it quite a lot actually, even before dick had asked you that ludicrous question. and he was right. it would make things easier. you'd have a stable roof over your head, instead of the cracked ones that leaked like your dormatory back in gotham. you'd be able to spend more time with the people you cared about. you'd have people that cared about you too, look after you, and defend you if needed. it couldn't be that bad, right?

that's how you ended up here.

in a room that was bigger than all the shitty squats you lived since you were a kid combined. there was so much space you didn't know what to do with it. but the rowdiness of the boys and girls outside your door brought a smile to your face. life at wayne manor would call for some serious adjustment, but you felt like you could power through it. plus, it was only a bonus that you'd always thought jason was cute, much to dick's disgust.

the first couple of weeks staying here were honestly going great, much to your surprise. the family had welcomed you with open arms, some of them not even batting an eye when you regularly attended dinner with them, or walked around in your pajamas, or were quick to be in the cave once it was time for patrol. like you were supposed to be there all along.

your friendship with dick was more of the same, only now you lived with him. jason and you had gotten closer, but you didn't trust calling whatever feelings you had for him enough to call it a crush. you didn't always understand whatever nerd stuff tim would ramble about, but you listened to him anways. you appreciated how much stephanie and cass involved you into their movie nights and gossiping. well more you and stephanie gossiping than cass, but it still felt like you had the girl best friends you had always craved for. damian took some time to warm up to you, but you could still bond with him over his art and love for animals. alfred loved you already, so there wasn't much there to add. and then there was bruce.

you couldn't quite place your finger on bruce. even when you were younger, his stoicism and broodiness was something you couldn't get past, only in rare moments. there was always something about him that you found off-putting. granted that he was always kind, if that's even the right word for it, he never made you feel unwelcome, but you always felt uneasy around the man.

maybe it was how he seemed to be able to read you like an open book, how he could disappear in a room full of people, how he never quite matched the energy in the room, his incessant staring. god, you hated how much he stared at you. bruce's gaze made you feel small, when you usually were confident and assured of yourself. you could feel his eyes burning into you across the room, and you didn't know how to say anything about it or do much for that matter besides distract yourself.

you thought that by now you'd be able to get over whatever it was about him, that you'd known bruce long enough that you could just play it off as him being strange in his own way, but those feelings had only intensified ever since you moved into the mansion.

chills would run down your spine whenever he'd place a heavy hand on your waist, seemingly as casual touch, but it always lingered too long. held on too tight. this look in his eyes, but you couldn't tell what it was. you had brought it up briefly to dick, but he didn't think much of it, laughing it off, saying something along the lines that's just bruce, you'll get used to it.

but you didn't. you couldn't.

especially now that bruce was inviting you to spar with him. to make sure you're prepared, he said. prepared for what exactly, you're not so sure. but you reluctantly agreed, trying to see it as something useful and educational that you could actually use while fighting against whatever villain of the day thought about creating mayhem in gotham.

bruce was strong and brutish compared to you. every time you tried to throw your best at him, he always managed to get the upper hand, and you'd be flat on the sparring mat in a matter of seconds. it had almost seemed like childsplay to him, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think that maybe deep down a part of him enjoyed it.

he'd roughly grab and contort your body in uncomfortable positions, to test your flexibility, as he so called it. your hair would be pulled unforgivingly, and he'd place his weight on top of you, telling you to try and escape from him, much to your avail. you felt like he was taunting you, "you think those criminals in gotham are gonna be easy on you like i am?"

it didn't fucking feel like he was going easy. bruce would place his hand on your neck and choke you out till you were clawing at his skin, only letting go if you tried to beg or actually managed to use your own skill to get him to stop, but that had only happened once and never again. and when you writhed and struggled in his bruising hold, you'd notice that damn look in his eyes again.

no, this wasn't normal sparring.

you'd seen him spar with the other boys and girls, and it had never been like this. and although he was still ruthless, he'd given them actual advice. advice that you'd seen them use out in the field on multiple occasions.

you'd been wandering around gotham long enough to know when someone had it out for you. whether it was sex, crime, or something else, you knew that distinct look in a persons eyes.

a predator hunting down prey.

☆☆☆☆☆

you tried to wash off whatever the hell that was with bruce down the drain. everytime the eery thought of him having less than good intentions for you came up, you pushed it away. whether it was out of guilt for even thinking of him in that way, cause he saved so many people each night without expecting anything in return, or because he was your best friends father, and no he'd never hurt you. that's just unreasonable.

the whole situation just made your head hurt. maybe it's just an overreaction. dick said that whatever this behavior was is normal of bruce. and so you foolishly continue to believe it.

you search your drawers for a fresh pair of panties, too tired to realize that some of your favorite pairs had gone missing. the room, which you personalized after your couple of weeks here, feels suddenly strange to sleep by yourself in.

when you first moved in, you slept like a baby. you felt safe, like this was a normal thing because you'd slept well in these walls ever since your sleepovers with dick. now, it just felt like something was watching you. a feeling that sometimes left goosebumps on your skin, and you couldn't understand what it was.

there's bruises on your skin from how tightly bruce held onto you. some as big as the shape of his hands on your wrists, and as small as the tips of his fingers on your neck. you're completely oblivious to the camera that's watching you closely, placed strategically so you'd never find it. you're oblivious to the man whose behind them.

even if you had just taken a shower, you decide to get yourself dirty again, in other ways. your favorite thing to relieve stress. playtime. so you trace your fingertips down your body with a feather-light touch, gently tweaking and rolling your fingers between your nipples to get yourself excited. you allow your mind to go blank for a while.

you have no idea that bruce's breathing only gets heavier when he realizes what you're about to do. don't know how his cock is hardening beneath his joggers when you push your panties to the side, gathering up your slick and finding your clit to pleasure yourself. don't know that he's stroking himself too, between the layers of his pants and boxers, with your panties in his hand.

how he wishes there was better light in the darkness of your room, so he could get a better look at your glistening pussy, and swearing to himself that he'll get a good look at it upclose one day. he matches your pace, making sure he only gets to cum at the same time you do.

you seem frustrated. he thinks that maybe he can fix that for you. you lick at your middle and index finger, using your own saliva as lubricant, teasing yourself by slowly rubbing along your wet folds. torturing him. the soft pads of your fingers find your clit, setting a medium-slow pace. and bruce tries his best to mimick your actions. pulling himself out of the constraints of his clothes, teasing the fat mushroom head of his cock, gliding a thumb over the tiny slit where his pre-cum dripped out of him, then moving it down his shaft to gently pump it with his hand.

and when your fingers pick up the pace, so do his hands. his eyes intently watch the screen before him, admiring the way your body arches up off the bed, head pushing into the pillows. your chest heaves a bit, and by the way you're biting on your bottom lip, he can tell you're struggling to be quiet. he doesn't want you be, but he'll take what he can get, for now.

your hips writhe a bit, almost like you wanted to fuck back at your fingers, desperately needing something thicker than your petite hands. you move both hands down to your cunt, so you can play with your clit and finger fuck yourself at the same time, and the action makes your pussy cry at the attention.

bruces muscles flex with each jerk of his hand, his free hand going down to gently cup his balls. his eyes hone in on your tiny digits, moving in and out of your cunt with one sole purpose, your juices creating a filthy sound that's like heaven to bruce's ears. he wants to be there so he could get a taste of that sweet pussy, but he suffices with your panties in his mouth, biting down on the fabric.

he could see the markings he left on your delicate skin in the moonlight that peeks into your room, possessiveness coursing through him. he feels pathetic for even doing this, but he can't help himself. bruce's cock twitches in his hand at the sight, knowing your orgasm was coming quickly by how sloppy and rushed your movements were becoming.

it's been so long since you've touched yourself. too long in fact, that your cunt spasms and gushes, completely soaking your hands and the sheets beneath you in the process. and bruce allows himself to cum too, his cock jumping a bit with every rope of the sticky substance, covering his happy trail and abs.

you seem too tired to care that you're laying in your own pussy juice, darkening the fabric below. bruce's eyes are soft, watching you roll over on your side, not even bothering to clean up afterwards. that was a tomorrow's problem.

bruce makes sure to save the precious evidence that the camera caught, knowing it'll be hidden away for his eyes only. he watches you fall asleep in your own mess till his cock begins to soften, placing himself back into his boxers.

he knows you pretty well, he'd like to think. knows you well enough that if you knew what he'd just done, you'd probably slap him across the face. another part of him hopes it turns you on just as much as it turns him on, but maybe that's just him feeding into his delusion. he trails his eyes over your sleeping form just one more time, a small goodnight baby whispered from his lips, even if you can't hear him.

he shuts off the computer for the night, hoping that he'll soon be lucky enough to watch you touch yourself again tomorrow. or maybe even get to fuck you. soon. really fucking soon.

he'll have to remind himself to be a bit grateful for dick inviting you to stay here, in his home. bruce hadn't been too proud when he suggested it to dick, bringing up that you'd easily accept to their request of moving into wayne manor. and he was right.

if dick or anyone else was suspicious about what bruce was doing, or planned on doing, he wasn't too worried of it. he also knew his adopted children well enough that they wouldn't tell on him, and loved you too much to allow you to leave, and for that, he was also grateful.

he had you right where he wanted you, and he'd give you a really hard time if you even thought about leaving now.

[jasontoddsdarling]

perihelion

— pairing: red hood x female reader

— words: 2,9k

— tags: smut 18+, naked female clothed male, cunnilingus (jason is a pussy eater and i meant it here), size differences*, size kink, rough sex, vaginal sex, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie, fluff at the end

*❗content warning: repeated (and i meant repeated) descriptions about their size differences, so proceed with caution! it's going to be excessive lol so if it's not your cup of tea you can skip this one :)

"Red." 

She whimpers pathetically, eyes blurry with unshed tears as she looks down at the man situated in between her wide open thighs.

Red Hood's tongue delves into her pussy, eating her out like a man starving. Maybe he is. Because it's been… what? Thirty minutes? And he hasn't stopped. Not even for stretching his massive body or something. Not for one second, even.

His lips keep making out with her cunt. 

She's overly sensitive. 

But by hearing her mewling his name it spurs him on, for he's sucking her clit hard with a low groan.

Her hips shot high. She will probably reach the ceiling of her room if Red Hood's hands on her hips aren't holding her down.

"Red! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

She sobs, orgasm wrecking her body like a ship against gigantic waves. Tears falling down her face in rivulets, dampening her soft pink pillowcase.

She can hear Red Hood shuffling now, by the sound of the fabric of her bedding against his clothes.

"You said you want to take my cock whole and not just half to three quarters," he says, voice hoarse, "I should prepare you thoroughly to make that possible. And multiple orgasms seem to prepare your tiny pretty pussy better indeed."

He proves his point by sweeping his fingers around her pussy opening, gathering her arousal.

"Look at this."

He's showing his shiny fingers to her. 

"Look at you gushing for me. All for me, isn't that true, princess?"

"Yes, Red. All for you."

Red Hood smiles, eyes glittering with wickedness and blown wide with lust behind his mask.

Red Hood quickly works, removing his belt and thigh holsters and dragging his trousers and briefs down above his knees.

He positions his leaking fat cock on her entrance, moving it up and down that at some point the angry red tip catches inside her.

She jerks at that, letting out a gasp. Her body always seems to forget how big he is compared to her.

Red Hood doesn't seem to notice because now he's placing his cock on her entire mound, his tip rests right above her navel. She shudders at the image both of them create. 

He is so massive. It should make her feel wary or something, she thinks, but she just feels that she's being taken care of and protected by this masked vigilante. A man that's capable of eradicating crime without mercy in Gotham streets is also able to worship her body and make her feel safe whenever she's with him, making her feel so wanted.

See, her thoughts have wandered into deeper territory she doesn't wish to visit—at least not right now anyway, when the man above her is about to be balls deep inside of her.

She directs her mind to the present.

Red Hood rubs his cock on her pussy, slathering the underside with her arousal from the orgasms he has drawn from her. 

"I'm not doing my job well if you're able to leave me alone and busy with your thoughts."

"Huh?"

She doesn't think Red Hood realizes that, she's pretty sure she was just lost in her mind for some milliseconds.

Red Hood removes himself from the top of her. She is about to protest but he swiftly sits on his haunches and pumps his cock with his precum and the wet underside of his cock from her arousal, slathering the moistures all over his cock.

Before knowing it, he has positioned himself back above her body.

She knows if hypothetically there's a mirror on her ceiling, she's only able to see his broad shoulders and toned body on the reflection—maybe her thighs if she opened them wide but that's it—because this massive man just simply covers her smaller torso with his. And she likes it more than she ever should.

Red Hood eases his tip inside of her and she feels the relief of having a part of him in her.

She closes her eyes as he keeps feeding her pussy with his cock. 

She can feel the slight pleasant ache that indicates he's working himself deep inside of her. He's probably almost all in now, she thinks.

But when she opens her eyes he's only about halfway inside.

Red Hood's expression indicates that he's holding back, pleasure written all over his face. 

But he is nothing if not relentless, keep pushing hips and drawing back, trying to ease the process. He keeps stuffing her with the rest of his cock centimeter by centimeter.

When he's like four fifths inside her, he groans her name.

"Princess. You're–" he groans, "you're always so tight. But I think this is the tightest you've ever been." 

She preens at his dirty talk. 

"It's you that is so big, Red. Why are you so big, so so big."

Tears gathered in her eyes at the sensation of his fat cock almost fully nestled inside of her. She has never felt like this, so full and whole. And he hasn't even all the way in.

And it's true. He's very considerable, and definitely the biggest one she has ever taken. The first time they're doing this—it was two months after he was wounded in her fire escape and kept visiting her weekly since then, just hanging out and mindlessly talking with her after his patrol—Red Hood was only able to put one third of his cock inside of her because he was afraid he was going to break her, even though she was begging him to just put the rest of it inside. Afterwards he was making it up to her by eating her out until she couldn't feel her thighs because of how he was holding her down so she couldn't squirm away from his ministrations.

Red Hood growls in her ear, cupping her tit and harshly playing with her nipple.

"You're flattering me so much, my sun."

My sun. Her nickname from him after learning the meaning of her name. It makes her feel buzzing that has nothing to do with him currently working his cock to be buried deep inside of her body.

Red Hood swaps his fingers with his hot mouth, his teeth pulling at her peaked brown nipple. 

"Ah!"

Red Hood puts his forehead on hers.

His minty breath fanning her hair as he stuffs the rest of his cock while also keeps distracting her from the stretch by circling her areola with her tongue and sucking on her nipple and globe of tit—leaving hickeys, switching between right to left.

Until he accomplishes the thing that she has wanted since the first time they slept together: the entirety of his fat cock inside of her pussy.

"Redredredredoh."

She feels intense stretch and pleasure she has never felt before, feeling his cock stretch her and the length of it reach a part inside her no one has ever been able to go. 

She feels so incredibly full.

"That's it. It's all in. You take all of my cock. Your tiny cunt is able to swallow all of me."

Red Hood kisses the rivulets that sliding down her cheek away, licking them clean.

She squeezes her inner muscles at the praises and the gesture and he groans, deep rumbles of sound from his chest.

She can feel every ridge of his cock, his veins rubbing deliciously against her walls. 

She has to bite her lips to contain her mewls.

"We're a tight fit. You're so good for me, so perfect."

She moans at his praises. 

Curious, she looks down at the part where they're joined.

A tiny gasp leaves her at the sight. 

Her lower stomach has a bulge from his cock residing inside.

Red Hood touches the indentation on her lower stomach, pressing on where his cock is nestled deep in her. 

"Look where I am inside of you."

He says as he keeps the pressure on her skin.

"You're–you're so deep."

She breathes out, seeing the proof of how different their bodies are—how big, how massive he is compared to her regular size, sending minds into so many directions.

He caresses the bump with his hand like it's the first time he has ever witnessed this. 

"It's the first time I have ever left something like this."

He says as if he knows what she's thinking about. 

"You're so beautiful like this."

She whimpers, her blown wide dark brown eyes seeing his beautiful rugged face above her. Even though he's always with his mask, his beauty has never been able to be obscured by it.

Red Hood kisses her deep, his mask digging on her face. His arms beside her head are strained, holding his body from crushing her smaller one.

His kiss is bruising, his teeth scraping against her upper and lower lips equally. He swipes his tongue, demanding an entrance to her mouth that she immediately grants. His tongue swipes hers, their saliva strings connected and messy between their lips.

Red Hood starts to move his hips, drawing his cock in and out of her in an experimental thrust, his fingers rubbing on her engorged clit. She lets out a pleasurable sigh.

Seeing her body has adjusted to the feel of his entire length intruding her slick walls, he repeats the motion much quicker and she screams at how her throbbing pussy being speared over and over again by his thick cock, always managed to be balls deep and bottoming out inside of her tight cunt everytime.

Her hand tugs on the silky strands of his dark hair.

"You're created for me, made for taking my cock nice and whole."

Red Hood says each word in between each of his deep thrusts. He grunts on her ears, the sounds making her cunt gushing. 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head by the carnal pleasure of his heavy thrusts and his dirty praises. 

She sobs on his shoulder, long black hair wildly fanning on her soft pink pillow and her bed.

But instead of telling him to slow down, she tells him, "Harder, please. Give your all."

Red Hood always obliges her, she doesn't have to ask him twice. That's what he wants as well, but he wanted to build up the pleasure. But her asking him to do so without his initiative, it just spurs him on.

He plows her cunt roughly, the drags of his thick cock and its ridges sets her nerves on fire. She accepts the pleasure borderline on oversensitivity gladly. She takes them all like a champ. Partly because it's a hassle to thrust up her hips against his powerful one but also because she wants this, badly. 

Beads of his sweats rolling down his cheeks, dropping on his light stubble and dropping on her tits. He swipes it away, fondling her tits and squeezing them. He pinches the erect peak and then closes his mouth on one of them, biting it hard. She cries, an orgasm tearing out of her by him, again for the nth time tonight.

"Red, you're so big, so deep. So deep." 

She babbles the only words she can only think of at this time. 

Her mind is completely blank with the way his cock keeps making space inside of her deeper and deeper as if it's still possible. 

"So big, oh God. Big. So thick… my tiny cunt." 

She looks like she's delirious with the height he brings her, the words that will make her hide her face with her hands if she ever remembers she ever speaks of them. 

His chest rumbles at her mindless dirty praises to him, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, his sacks drawn tighter, preparing to blow his massive loads. 

If she keeps praising him like this with the cute and ethereal blissed out face of hers, messy but glowing black hair tangling on his fingers, and glistening skin of hers, he isn't sure he's able to hold on longer. He has been holding his orgasm since he was eating her out hours ago.

"Where do you want me, angel?"

Red Hood asks, grunting and panting above her. 

"Inside, please. Please cum inside of me, Red."

Red Hood growls at her consent and then draws his hips for the last time sending a deep, deep harsh thrust—that will send her head knocking against her headboard if he isn't currently clutching her hips to the point of bruising—until he's fully sheathed and bottoming out inside of her, the deepest he has been tonight, both of them sure—then losing himself in the height of his powerful climax.

A bodily shudder goes through her, her teary screams of pleasure are sure audible for her nearest neighbors.

Red Hood chants her name as his hot, thick white cum flows inside of her cunt, flooding her insides.

It's so much, too much. 

The streams of his hot cum is somehow a relief but also making her oversensitive. She doesn't think anyone is able to give that much of cum in one climax, but she thinks—as her mind cleared by her most powerful peak tonight—he must have been holding his orgasm since he ate her out hours ago. 

God knows if she were in his place—giving him blowjob multiple times until he climaxes—she wouldn't be able to hold hers and would probably orgasm alongside him with his cock deep in her throat. She shudders at her imaginative thought, not entirely against it—but Red Hood sure is, he likes the act of giving more than receiving.

She squirms because he hasn't stopped pumping his seed inside of her—balls still half drawn tight—but he shushes her and flicks her clit to calm her down from oversensitivity. 

She's just there, lying blissfully where the broad shouldered man above her cooing at her and praising her for doing so good for him and but she's in between wakefulness and sleep. She feels it when his cock sends the last spurts of his cum inside of her, but he doesn't move until he has softened in her, then carefully pulled out of her.

Red Hood is lying down beside her, hasn't drawn his pants and briefs up. 

He can feel the heavy stare of eyes in between her thighs, so she looks down on her body too.

Their combined fluids are a sticky white mess between her thighs, the blob of it peeking out from between her folds—not to mention the rest of his massive load inside of her cunt that probably will dribble down if she is as much as sitting down, she can't imagine if she tries to stand or walk, if she's able to in the first place, which she thinks she doesn't. 

The man beside her has wrecked her pussy with his cock and taken her ability to stand for at least until this morning, the feeling of it will definitely last for a week though.

As if senses that she needs to clean up but can't, he stands, drawing his pants and briefs up without zipping the former—probably for easy clean up—and walking to her bathroom. He's there for two minutes—she checks her bedside clock—and then comes back with his pants zipped up, hair much tidier, and a wet, warm soft towel on his hand.

He sits on the edge of the bed, cleaning the stickiness on her thighs and the white blob of cum that peeking out from her labia—the latter carefully because he knows she is overstimulated after everything—and then goes back to the bathroom to deposit it in her basket of dirty clothes.

When he's back again, she's slightly moving her body up—still laying down, though—holding her stuffed animal in her naked form in between the shallow valley of her tits, the sight making him smile. He sits at the side of the bed, drawing her blanket up until it covers her navel. 

He reaches for a bottle of water she has on her nightstand. Opening the cap, he offers it to her and because her head is only leveled up by her pillows at the back of her head and neck, some of it spills down her torso and slightly dampened her stuffie. 

"Pengu!"

"Pengu is okay, she's a penguin."

He retorts before drinking the rest of the water. 

She gives him her playful stink eyes, but says nothing and tries to rub the water with her blanket, even though it's obvious has been absorbed by the material of her stuffed animal.

She is still drying Pengu, so it surprises him when she asks, "Are you going to go, soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

He usually goes right after cleaning up, no hard feelings and anything.

But something is different in the air today, and he doesn't want to examine it further, but he knows he wants to stay here at least for some more hours.

"No."

She still hasn't looked at him, holding Pengu to her chest, so he pinches her chin up and kisses her.

"Okay, I will stay. Maybe until you sleep?"

She nods at him, her little smile is everything to him.

He lies down beside her, heads on the stack of her fluffy soft pink pillows that smells so her—peony and lychee scented perfume she wears—clothes intact and all, just without his belt and holster that are lying on her bedroom floor, but that's his problem for later. 

For now, he caresses her hair and holds his head close to his chest until she falls asleep.

mariea's notes: wow, you made it here! technically, this fic is crossposted from my ao3 account, i wrote it in september 2023. slightly modified. and i mind slight. you can head to my account (link on my pinned) if you're curious about the change i made lol. anyway thanks for reading <3

[discowingneckline]

“tim drake is rightfully annoyed and mean to damian because damian tried to kill him several times”

tim can be upset about it and not want to be nice or near him, yes, but have you considered tim ALSO wouldn’t want to be around jason?? noo because you changed tim’s favorite robin to being jason to fit your little world, and they got along in newer comics and stuff. well homie, have you actually LOOKED at the comics where damian and jason try killing tim?? because i’m telling you right now, jason’s attack was FAR MORE SEVERE than damian’s. and personally, if i were a vigilante, and i were almost murdered by these two, i’d be more wary of jason, who beat the living shit out of me, over damian.

like honest to gods, it’s like can you please read comics just a bit or look at some panels or something??? 😭😭 PLEASE

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

❤️

You're tired of hearing about Eddie's crushes, hiding your feelings for him. Sick of feeling second best, you decide to move on.

Beer, a pool, and a very handsome Steve Harrington happens. Eddie isn't so thrilled about the Steve part.

Just a lil two parter to get back into writing

Part one

Eventual Eddie Munson x Reader

Steve Harrington x Reader

Don't copy, reuse or repost my work

❤️

It was a rainy Tuesday when Eddie broke your heart. Unknowingly, but it was broken all the same.

He had came to the Hellfire table in a suspiciously good mood. Beaming smile, eyes shining with happiness.

Turns out he had ran into Jessie who was his newest crush, she was the coolest, most badass babe on the planet according to Eddie.

This had been repeated constantly for the last few weeks and usually you were able to smile politely, pretend you weren't dying inside hearing him talk about his dream girl.

It had been this way for a year now, through multiple crushes, a few hook ups and one near potential girlfriend for Eddie, so you could push yourself to be happy for him one more time right?

No, today it was like your heart finally had enough, a deep ache was building inside you and felt like all the pain was exploding inside of you all at once.

Tears pool in your eyes and you catch the sympathetic look that Dustin throws in your direction. It's enough to sober you up instantly.

You didn't want to constantly pine over Eddie when he didn't want you, it was agony being so completely smitten with someone who noticed every woman but you.

It was like something in you just snapped and you had enough.

"Hey princess, you okay?" Eddie's voice breaks through your reverie and you startle a little as he peers at you intently with his big brown eyes.

His hand is on yours and your whole body feels alight at just his slightest touch, it was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, Eddie could be extremely perceptive when he wanted to be.

You needed to get over how you felt about him and soon, because you were sick of the constant heartache, second guessing yourself and feeling second best to Eddie's crushes.

Moving on would be a good thing. You couldn't take it if Eddie ever found out how you felt about him, embarrassment burns inside of you just thinking about his reaction, and how awkward Hellfire would be due to his rejection.

No, it was best for everyone if you found a way to get over Eddie.

❤️

Normally you didn't go to parties, especially not parties on a school night. However, there was a small part of you that wanted a change, to have some fun and let loose.

One of Jason's friends was throwing a party at his house, there was beer kegs, wine coolers and the biggest pool you had ever seen in your life.

Eddie was at the party to do his usual dealings, he catches your eye and looks stunned for a brief second.

"What are you doing here sweetheart? Parties aren't usually your thing?" you shrug and grab a bottle of beer.

"Just wanted a change of scenery I guess" it's then you notice that Jessie was also at the party and Eddie had noticed judging by the way his eyes light up.

Your heart sinks and you're about to make an escape until Eddie tugs on your hand.

"Hey, maybe you should stick close to me incase one of Jason's dipshit friends tries anything" you smile, touched at his protectiveness but you know deep down he'd rather be talking to Jessie than trailing after you all night.

"It's okay. I saw Robin by the pool so I'll go and chat to her for a bit" he's about to say something else but Jessie comes over and takes up all of his attention.

Yup, it's definitely your time to leave. There's no way you wanted to be around for Eddie making googly eyes at Jessie.

❤️

Between the pounding music, Eddie and Jessie and the fact you've lost Robin in the crowd, it was safe to say that the first hour of the party was a bust.

By the second hour you had gotten involved in a game of beer pong with Robin, Steve, Vickie and a few others.

At first you were kinda wary hanging out with Steve but you soon found out that he had changed so much from the King Steve of a few years ago.

He's kind, funny and kind, genuinely a good guy and him and Robin are like two peas in a pod. Platonic besties with a capital P she tells you and Vickie.

It's nice hanging out with them because everytime you see Jessie and Eddie together it needled at the ache in your heart.

Eddie joins in at one point but seems tense.

"Why are hanging out with Harrington?'' he hisses under his breath and you scowl.

"He's really nice" Eddie scoffs at this.

"Preppy, rich, douchebag? he's seen dating total babes every few weeks." you stiffen.

"Of course so why would he be seen with me right?" you ask heatedly and his eyes widen.

"That's not what I meant... You're beautiful sweetheart..." yeah but just a friend you finish his sentence in your head.

"Just forget it Eddie, go back to Jessie" you hurry away from him and curse yourself for getting so upset.

Steve notices and asks if you want to hang out in the pool.

It's quieter outside than in the house, people are just lazing around lightly buzzed, lost in their own conversations.

Steve makes you laugh by jumping in the pool fully clothed, he lets out a yell when he hits the water.

"Fuck, its freezing" and you swear you hear Robin calling him a dingus. The thought makes you smile.

"So Munson huh?" Steve asks gently and your smile vanishes.

"Mmm, tonight was my big plan to get over him. Didn't work out so well" There's a brief moment of silence that's broken when Steve takes you by surprise and you're suddenly in the pool beside him, soaking wet and torn between laughter and exasperation.

"Steve!" you huff out and his answering smile tugs at your heart. There's also something you didn't expect, a spark.

He moves closer to you and it's like the two of you are magnets. Steve strokes your cheek and his lips meet yours.

It's nice, it's really really nice and you moan softly as Steve gently tugs at your lower lip, deepens the kiss and pulls you even closer.

Steve pulls away and you both exchange a secret, shy smile at the moment you had.

You kiss him again and this time it's a little more hot and heavy. Only this time when you come apart, you're not alone.

Eddie has just come outside. He's staring at you and Steve, his expression blank but you notice something stirring deep in his eyes, a flash of emotion that you can't place.

Then it's gone and he storms back inside..

🖤

[zylev-blog]

Danny and Damian’s friendship started on a chilly January day. Damian had just been given to the Wayne family, and had started going to Gotham Elementary. Danny had been going there for years, but he was a poor kid and was there on a scholarship, so all of the rich kids made fun of him. It didn’t help that Danny’s parents were weird, and half of the class believed that they were robots. As if a ten year old could build robots.

Damian kept his distance from everyone, but as the other resident weird kid, Danny had introduced himself to Damian. Damian was wary, because of the LOA and the fact that Bruce was rich. Danny didn’t care about money, once he realized Damian and he shared similar interests, he wanted to be Damian’s friend for his personality, not his money. From that day on, the duo were inseparable. They did everything together, and spent nearly every waking moment together in and out of school.

Somehow though, Danny never figured out that Damian was Robin.

Four years later, and Damian and Danny are dancing around their romantic feelings for each other, and they’re both in denial. They’re at a museum when Joker and his goons take everyone hostage. Danny tries to protect Damian, but the Joker singles him out in front of everyone to teach them a lesson about being obedient. Joker shoots Danny in the chest with a gun, but the shot doesn’t kill him instantly. Damian rushes forward, trying to assess the damage and save his best friend, but he’s held back by the other civilians. Damian is forced to watch his best friend bleed to death from the distance, and is completely powerless to do anything. None of the Bats arrive on time to save Danny’s life.

Damian spirals into a deep depression. He goes back on his No killing rule, and goes after the Joker. Most of his siblings don’t want to stop him, but they do try because of Bruce’s rules. The only one on his side is Jason, who was also killed by the Joker.

Six months after Danny’s death, and Damian finally manages to kill the Joker. He and Jason make sure there is no body to ressurect. Damian weeps at Danny’s grave, and tells his friend that he was avenged. But the hole in Damian’s chest doesn’t go away. His heart is utterly broken, and he’s not sure he can survive without Danny.

Exactly one year after Danny’s death, and Damian decides he can’t do it anymore. He digs up Danny’s body, and flies it to Nanda Parbat.

Danny comes back to life, but somethings wrong with him.

[also-a-contradiction]

kitchen phone calls - eddie munson

eddie munson x gn!reader

—> when you get ditched at a party, you know exactly who to call.

notes/warnings: mentions of parties, reader is at a party, reader gets ditched, mention of underage drinking, use of pet names like "sweetheart" and "honey", somewhat proofread, (tbh i haven't seen this show in a while so i hope everything is somewhat accurate to the characters)

-

eddie munson was in the middle of practicing a new song when the telephone rang. not an uncommon occurrence, but considering the late hour, he was somewhat wary.

“hello?” he asked into the phone. the sound of music could be heard playing in the background, but nobody responded. “is anyone there?”

there was a slight annoyance bubbling up inside him, thinking it might be another one of jason’s stupid pranks “carver, I swear to—”

“eddie!” your voice yelled over the phone, almost making him drop it in surprise. “eddie, I’m so glad you picked up." you said, relief evident in your voice.

eddie was instantly delighted, always beyond thrilled when you called. but the slight shakiness of your voice gave him pause. “y/n? are you okay?"

you were quiet for a second, and then cleared your throat. "yeah, yeah, I'm good, eds. I just—well, I’m at tina’s end-of-the-year party. the one I told you about last week?”

eddie remembers it well. tina had invited you and robin, and though you really wanted eddie to come with, high school parties weren’t really his scene. “yeah, ‘course I do, sweetheart.”

“well, my ride home just bailed on me."

"they what?" eddie exclaimed, a quick flash of fury coursing through him at the thought of someone ditching you, especially at a party.

he could hear you sigh. “yep, left for a different party, I guess. I’m so sorry to call you so late, but I don’t really feel all that good asking anybody here for a ride. too much drinking and other activities, if you know what I mean.”

eddie was already stumbling around the kitchen looking for his car keys, not carrying if he was tangling the phone cord. "hey, don't you ever be sorry about calling me, okay? I'm glad you did."

you laughed quietly as you heard him curse about not being able to find his shoes. "I really appreciate it, eddie. I owe you a milkshake, okay?" you promised.

"I'll hold you to it, honey." eddie laughed, not caring about the milkshake debt, but rather the opportunity to spend time with you. "I’m on my way, be there in 5."

-

thanks for reading!!!

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 9

First|Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Warnings: angst, depression, canon typical violence.

Jason was not angry he was frustrated. There was a difference. A distinct difference that Jason knew very well.

Ghost kept running. He would steal a thing. Evade some goons, cause he often stole from the rogues. Then evade some bats, lead them in a new direction, sometimes changing overall direction mid chase, there really was no rhyme or reason to it.

And then, when Jason showed up, he’d invariably be standing on another rooftop and disappear. All the while Jason could feel his longing and sorrow, a call for help he wouldn't let Jason answer, and it was frustrating and confusing, but mostly frustrating.

Because Jason was not angry.

He may have snapped at Dick, when he made a joke about his princess being in another castle, but he hadn’t actually laid hands on anyone. He made sure nobody made the mistake of touching him.

He ducked his head, never stuck around and ignored the looks he got. Worry, pity, wariness, Jason flip-flopped how he interpreted the gazes. A loose canon, that’s what they thought he was. But Jason was not. His chest burned, but Jason was not angry. Because he knew the difference, between himself and the pits. He knew. But they didn’t. They didn’t understand and Jason could not explain - not without him sounding unstable. There was no way he could explain things and keep cool. They wouldn’t understand that he kept away for their sake. At best he’d be benched.

Benched, a bitter voice mocked, locked up and thrown in Arkham more like. Criminal, murderer, crazy.

He shook his head. Pushed the thoughts away. He couldn’t allow himself to be benched. He needed to catch Ghost - to make him listen and explain just for a moment so he could understand what was going on with him and the pits.

As long as Jason didn’t cross the line, they wouldn’t try anything. He had to believe that.

Oo o oO

Bruce was at a loss.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Jason hadn’t pointed a gun at any of them, Bruce would have thought they’d gone a year or two back in time. He was tense and curt and kept himself at a distance. Always out of reach.

It wasn’t like he joined their patrols regularly normally, but he could usually be counted on if something big was going down. Now Bruce wasn’t so sure he’d want to ask him if something happened. It seemed like he was nearing breaking point and Bruce feared what way he’d fall.

The thief, Ghost, was at the center of this. Something was going on there, but it was like he was missing crucial information. Jason was downright frantic to catch him.

Danny Fenton. The name was still a dead end. The DNA sample useless. His contact at Star Lab had gotten back to him and informed him they’d had a break in weeks ago, before the thefts started in Gotham - nothing had been stolen, the invisible perpetrator had been found out because of the electromagnetic disturbance his stealth tech gave off, or rather that was what their reports said. The recorded disturbance matched the readings they got off of the Ghost.

It was quite possible there were many more unrecorded thefts before the Ghost came to Gotham. He’d already informed Tim and watched him pale from the realization that they actually had no idea how far the Ghost was with what he was building. If building something was indeed what he was doing with the eclectic mix of parts he’d stolen. Tim had a theory, that much was obvious, but he was not at a point where he felt he had enough evidence to share it.

When Bruce had told him of the Star Lab incident, he’d glanced towards where they’d stored the spectral calibrator, before his shoulders had forcefully relaxed.

Bruce was no slouch when it came to technology, but mostly when it came to operating it. He could infiltrate systems and extract information fine, but it he was honest, the kids were better, and since he rarely worked alone these days, he didn’t get as much practice - he wondered momentarily if this is what it was like growing old.

It was something he’d never expected when he set out on his mission as a young man, growing old that is.

Besides while Bruce had designed a fair few gadgets in his time, and assembled the Bat computer himself back in the early days when it didn’t have near the capabilities it did today, he was not an inventor. Lucius was the one who’d made his more fanciful ideas workable in the early days.

And now he had all these talented kids.

It didn’t matter most of them were adults, they’d always be kids to him. Here he went again getting distracted.

He rubbed his forehead. Point was, Bruce couldn’t see what the parts could be used for but Tim could. And it was something that worried him, which in turn worried Bruce and like always these days his thoughts circled back to his worry for Jason.

He’d given him time, like Dick had said - three weeks so far in fact. And instead of things calming down they’d become worse. The Ghost’s continued escape was winding Jason up, there were no two ways about it. They needed to capture him.

Bruce had to be honest with himself, if it wasn’t for Jason, the Ghost would be very low priority for them. He wasn’t hurting anyone, just a thief. Before the day Jason had tackled the Ghost on the rooftop, he had been low priority. Amusing in fact, with the way he riled up Damian with his continued escapes, it had been low stakes - safe in a way many of their missions weren’t.

But now, Tim was working frantically on ways to capture the Ghost, they’d tried nets of various materials (some even Martians had trouble phasing through) with no success. Barbara was still trying to unearth more information from the phone, also with no success.

Steph and Cass had been steadily and stealthily working on changing the cameras throughout the city connected to Barbara’s network to ones with better filters and built in detectors for electromagnetic disturbances over a certain threshold - a very bothersome process since most of the cameras technically weren’t theirs and had to be indistinguishable from the originals and send visuals to the real owners of the same (low) quality they’re used to in case somebody decided to take a closer look.

Damian was giving him long looks, when he thought he wasn’t noticing. He was hiding something and he’d been sneaking off on his own. Bruce was trying to convince himself to leave it alone. He’d nearly lost Damian in the past because he was too controlling.

Trust, it was something he was trying to practice but it irked at him not to know. What if he got in trouble? He had to forcibly remind himself, it was most likely that Damian was just sneaking off to some wild animal he was hiding and nursing back to health.

Duke had just gotten back from a three month exchange program abroad, he would have to be caught up to speed. Maybe his abilities would give them some additional insight.

Hopefully.

Oo o oO

Jason was not angry, he was livid. Ghost was on another rooftop. About to do his disappearing act, again again again.

“Come back here!” He yelled.

Fear not his own hit him in a sickly yellow haze. He gasped and struggled not to throw up. Ghost was gone again. Of course he was. His one chance and-

“Jason…” the words were quiet, barely audible, Bruce. Jason grit his teeth. Bruce was a fucking hypocrite saying his name in costume like that.

A step forward was heard, a purposefully made sound to announce his approach, and Jason spun.

“Don’t touch me!” His guns were pointed at Bruce. He stood frozen, the hand he’d no doubt been reaching toward Jason was pulled back. It served him right.

Jason didn’t trust him. He should shoot him, teach him not to get too close. He knew Batman’s armor, he knew the weak spots. It would be easy. A rubber bullet wouldn’t kill, but it would hurt.

Jason wanted him to hurt; like he hurt.

He wanted-

He wanted-

He couldn’t remember loading his guns tonight. The realization struck him like a splash of ice water. Rubber bullets or live ammunition?

He didn’t know!

He followed the aim of his still raised guns, pointed at his dad’s chest, the armor could only do so much at such a close distance.

Real bullets or rubber?

Jason took a step backwards in horrified realization. It didn’t matter. Not at this close range. Both would be lethal. He knew that. He knew guns. Why had that even been a question? Why was he still pointing his guns at Bruce?

A wounded sound escaped his throat and he turned and ran.

He’d crossed the line.

-

Poor Jay, huh? Can Danny keep escaping the bats? Will Jason be okay? Tim POV next time, we're in serious need of a plan here, come on Timmers.

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[the-s1lly-corner]

Cuddling with Jason, Brahms, and Michael

We are getting silly

Notes: Reader is GN, OG Michael myers, Jason gets two segments for non zombie and zombie

CWs: edit

Jason

Whether or not hes undead, hes very large! And if hes still alive, hes very warm! So so gentle with you because he doesnt want to crush you- and generally hes just. So inexperienced. Is this okay? This isnt inappropriate right, and this is a normal thing lovers do, right? Poor guy, his only exposure to romance is the campers and the stories his mother used to read him at bedtime.. automatically hes the big spoon, but he melts right into you if you hold him instead

Not a lot changes in his zombie form other than his body temperature- he becomes cold to the touch.. perhaps a few extra blankets will help offer some heat? He becomes more angry at his state if you begin shivering against him- hes not really mad at you, though

8/10, 6/10 for zombie

Michael

Neither little spoon or big spoon, the only real way you guys cuddle is having you lay on his chest in bed. Cuddling isnt very common, either. Between Michael being out doing... what he does.. and him just being distant in general, affection is... uncommon, if not nontraditional, he shows it through different means. It's just on you to pick up on them. Warm, but not as hot as Jason. Firm build.. 6.5/10

Brahms

The clingiest between the three, when he leaves the walls hes going to be hovering around a lot. He crawls into bed with you most nights. Looooves being held and being little spoon, but on nights where he feels wary that youll leave he clings onto you. Big and hairy, can get a little itchy but it's not too big of a deal.. 6.5/10, will try to keep you in bed so you guys can hang out more.. as if you arent going to hang out anyways