#Jason: I might have some tips for you

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Dick wants to be a better brother for Tim than he was for Jason, so he turns to an online forum to get tips on how to bond with younger siblings ((and maybe try to cope with the trauma of losing Jason in a way that isn’t running headlong into danger)).

Unbeknownst to him, his chat buddy is a bored Jason sitting ducks on the other side of the world, waiting for Talia to find him a new trainer.

Neither of them expect how much this ends up changing things.

[rosemaryhoney27]

Gotham's sunshine child part 3

“You Mess With Him, You Answer to Gotham”

It started with a bruised lip.

Just a little thing. A split at the corner of Danny’s mouth and a faint scuff on his cheek.

To anyone else, it might have gone unnoticed. Gotham’s a rough place—people get bruised all the time. But Red Hood noticed. And Red Hood didn’t do unnoticed.

Jason found him in the East End, same as always, seated cross-legged on a crate behind a laundromat. A trio of tiny kids were gathered around him, Danny animatedly explaining long division on the back of a pizza box.

He didn’t flinch when Jason dropped down from the fire escape, but the moment he turned and Jason saw the bruise… something in him snapped.

“Who,” Jason growled, voice low and steady, “put their hands on you?”

Danny blinked. “Huh?”

“Your face.” Jason pointed. “Don’t play dumb, kid. What happened?”

Danny hesitated. “Oh. That. Nothing serious. Some guy didn’t like that I told him not to harass the waitress at DeeDee’s Diner. He shoved me. It’s fine.”

Jason did not think it was fine.

Jason thought it was the opposite of fine.

Jason made sure the kids were safe and left.

The man in question was later found duct-taped to a lamppost in nothing but his underwear and a bright pink sign reading “I HARASS WAITRESSES AND HIT KIDS” in glittery marker. No one saw a thing. The waitress got her tips covered for the month.

When Danny found out, he sighed.

“Jason.”

“I’m just saying,” Red Hood replied, smug behind his helmet, “Gotham’s got your back.”

It became a thing after that.

Someone tried to scam Danny? A tech repair shop mysteriously had its Yelp rating obliterated overnight and got a surprise inspection from the fire department. Barbara swore she didn’t do it. Out loud.

A slumlord tried to evict a group of squatters Danny had quietly been helping? The building got “accidentally” donated to a housing nonprofit. Courtesy of one B. Wayne and some forged signatures Dick may or may not have acrobatically acquired.

Some idiot tried to rob Danny again?

They were found three alleys over with every shoelace tied to their belt loops and a very clear message written in ketchup: NOT HIM.

It wasn’t always the Bat-Family either.

Civilians got in on it. A fruit vendor started giving Danny free apples “because you remind me of my nephew.” A gang of teen taggers painted a mural of him near Blackgate, halo and all. An old lady on Danny’s usual bus route started crocheting him scarves “because your hoodie’s full of holes, sweetpea.”

Danny protested. A lot.

“You guys don’t have to do this,” he told the kids he tutored after they “accidentally” spilled soda on the shoes of a guy who’d cursed at Danny.

“Yeah, we do,” one of them replied, chin up and defiant. “You helped us. That’s worth something.”

Danny tried to argue.

They ignored him.

The tipping point came when someone—some fool—decided to try and kidnap him.

Some out-of-town gang. Didn’t know the rules. Thought he was just another soft face with no backup.

They tried to grab him outside the soup kitchen.

They never made it past the sidewalk.

In seconds, there were people there—staff, other volunteers, even a grumpy teen Danny had helped with math homework once. The gangsters got swarmed before they could blink. Cops showed up, baffled. The only evidence left behind was a pile of duct tape and a very traumatized rental van with a glitter bomb in the glove box.

Batgirl was first to respond.

“I wasn’t even needed,” she muttered afterward to Bruce. “It was… honestly kind of terrifying.”

Bruce didn’t say much. Just turned to Alfred and asked if the guest room closest to the kitchen could be made up. Again.

They tried again. A week later.

Only this time, the whole Bat-Family got involved.

Someone had clearly put out a bounty. Kidnapping. Alive. Big payout.

The team sprang into action.

Red Hood hit the streets like a hurricane.

Nightwing ran surveillance with Oracle, flagging known traffickers and suspicious activity.

Robin—Damian—gritted his teeth and snarled at Bruce: “We are adopting him. This is not up for debate.”

“I don’t think he’d let us,” Bruce admitted.

“Then we do it anyway.”

Danny was fine.

Of course he was.

He had a faint burn on one arm from phasing through a too-tight restraint, but otherwise? Fine. He’d shorted out the van’s electronics and ghosted through the floor while humming the SpongeBob theme. Because of course he did.

“Are you mad?” he asked when Bruce finally tracked him down.

Bruce just looked at him, jaw tight.

“You could’ve died.”

Danny shrugged. “Yeah. Again.”

“Danny.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—look, it’s okay. I can handle myself. Really.”

Bruce studied him for a long moment.

Then: “Next time, let us handle it.”

Danny opened his mouth.

“Gotham wants you safe,” Bruce added softly. “Not just me. Not just my family. All of us. So let us help. Please.”

For once, Danny didn’t argue.

He nodded, quietly.

“…Okay.”

That night, Danny stayed at the Manor. Just one night, he promised.

It turned into two.

Then three.

By the end of the week, Alfred had added “Danny’s Favorite Cereal” to the shopping list and Tim had programmed the Cave’s system to alert them of any pings on his name.

Bruce didn’t force anything.

But when Danny fell asleep on the couch during a movie night and Damian covered him with a blanket without comment?

Bruce started the paperwork.

Danny could dodge billionaires all he wanted.

But Gotham had already claimed him.

[forresttfirre]

— the “informant” (jason todd x reader)

Summary: You mark up one of Jason's case files, and it slips both of your minds the next day. So, when Jason brings the file with him to the cave, everyone quickly catches on to the fact that Jason is working with someone. He's able to pass it off as just an informant, but one sibling stumbles upon the truth. Word count: 1.1k

Jason lands as quietly as possible on the fire escape attached to his apartment — top floor corner, adjacent to an alley with almost zero lighting and a building with no windows. Great for a vigilante at least.

He crouches down by the window, pressing a disguised button to disable the alarm attached. After the soft popping sound, he pushes up the window and steps through into his apartment. His boots land on scuffed hardwood with a thud and he quickly shuts the window, turning the alarm back on while doing so.

The apartment is silent besides the soft rush of air coming from the air conditioner. As he moves into his kitchen, he hears a mug be placed on the counter gently, then the scratch of a pen against paper. A small fond smile forms on his face, hidden by his helmet, which he takes off as he passes through the archway.

You're sitting at the counter, a cup of tea to your right and a file in front of you. "You snoopin' through my stuff now?" He teases. You pick up your head just the slightest, and he can make out your sheepish smile. "You seemed a little stumped, thought I could offer my expertise." Jason is reminded of the past you once held, following your "mentor" around the world as they battled assassins and the like. You had a similar life to him, but you left your cape behind for a new start in Gotham of all places. He got lucky meeting you.

Jason watches as you twirl a glittery, purple gel pen in between your fingers. He silently removes the rest of his getup as you return to making small notes in the margins of the case profile. Being with you is easy, because sometimes his presence in the room is enough. No words have to be exchanged even as time passes.

He peels off his mask and washes away the 'glue' on his face. Jason can feel your eyes on him, watching as he shrugs off his leather jacket, then his gloves. "You joining me?" He asks when he turns around, tipping his head toward the hallway that leads to the bathroom. Sometimes, when he arrives home and you're awake, you'll join him in the shower. It's never anything sexual, but relaxing nonetheless; with your hands gentle as you run the soap through his hair, and your soft words. "Mmm...sure. I'm about done, anyway." You slip off the stool silently, closing the file before stretching your arms above your head.

A moment later, Jason is in front of you, placing a kiss on your temple, your cheek. "I think they might be selling to Scarecrow, some of the chemicals are similar to what he's been using lately." Jason groans at your statement and his head falls to lean against your shoulder. "Not now, I do not need more motivation to go back out there."

"Later, then."

Later never comes; Jason picks up a shift at the auto shop near the edge of Park Row, and you go into work as you usually do. He completely forgets about your 'annotations', so he brings the file with him when he visits the cave later that night.

"Since when do you own a glitter pen?" Tim teases from his spot by the computer, Jason's file open in front of him. "What— Gimme it." Jason springs forward, memories from the previous night coming back to him. Tim quickly grabs the papers, holding them in the air and leaving the manila file folder on the desk.

"What's going on?" Steph questions, eyes narrowed as Tim stands on his chair to get a height advantage over Jason. "Todd uses a glitter pen." Damian rolls his eyes before going back to sparring against a hologram.

"It's purple," Tim grins and laughs as Steph gasps dramatically. "You do like purple! I knew it!"

"I do not! Give me the file, replacement. I'm serious." Jason wraps his arm around Tim, pulling off the chair and into his arms. Tim squirms, then falls to the floor with the papers still in his hands. He scrambles up quickly, and extends his staff. "This isn't your handwriting...you're working with someone!" Tim exclaims, poking Jason away from him as he quickly reads through the top paper.

"Jason, we should talk before you let anyone else read our case files," Bruce comments as he easily grabs the papers from Tim's hands. "I'm not working with anyone," Jason grumbles, rolling his eyes behind his mask. However, his cheeks are red hot, thankfully hidden by his helmet.

Dick peers over Bruce's shoulder, reading as well. "Tim's right though, this isn't your handwriting," He grins brightly, walking over to Jason with a giddy smile. "Did you make a new friend, Little Wing?" Jason can hear Steph and Tim laugh in the background as he groans.

"It's— They're just an informant, I did background checks and I've known them for a bit. I trust them." Everyone goes quiet for a bit, staring at him like it's hard to believe that he'd let anyone else get that close. "That's good," Dick comments, and everyone murmurs their agreements. It's awkward, because they still step around like he'll snap at them any second.

"I'm leaving." He stomps over to his bike, the engine roaring loudly as he starts it up. There's eyes on his back until he's out of the cave.

After Bruce and Tim read through the papers annotated by Jason's informant, Cass grabs them. Tim had taken pictures to try and analyze the handwriting, and she could see Bruce's silent questions about who the informant could be. Whoever Jason gave the file had insight even Tim missed the first time, and they added funny little comments on the side. When she goes to put the papers back in the file folder, she finds a sticky note on the inside in the same glittery purple pen. You're welcome Jay; I <3 U :).

Cass smiles softly, taking out the sticky note carefully and putting the papers back. When she goes out, she starts in Crime Alley first, even if it's Jason's territory. He finds her quickly.

"What're you doing here, Bat?" Jason asks, arms crossed over his chest. Cass opens one of the pockets on her belt, and pulls out the sticky note. She unfolds it before handing it to Jason. He reads it, then quickly looks at Cass again. "You didn't show anyone, did you?"

She shakes her head and Jason sighs in relief. "Thanks." Cass nods before leaving the rooftop just as fast as she came.

Jason folds the note back up with a smile. He'll have to delete some of his mask footage tonight.

my first time writing for jason, i hope you enjoy ☺️

[witherby]

Sooooooo excited for a SickBed Part 2 for Mouse!!!! also i’m literally obsessed with your writing - i check for updates on any of ur series like all the time!! 💞💞

That's so sweet to hear! Have something considerably less sweet! Chef's been craving some serious angst for days 😈

The Littlest Wayne: Sick Bed, part 2

Part one is Here!

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ Content warning: Young sick child, descriptions of a seizure, descriptions of a hospital environment ⚠️

You're transported to the hospital after receiving several doses of anti-seizure medication for monitoring and tests. Unless he'd wanted to risk giving away their secret identities, Bruce has to act like he doesn't have access to an entire medical bay in the cave under his house, and lets them take you. Hal gets in the back of the ambulance and Bruce remains behind with his sons, shuffling tiredly into the kitchen and looking like the world is on his shoulders. It's rare that he wears his exhaustion so brazenly.

"They're stable," he announces to the room. Several pairs of shoulders un-tense, and Alfred offers him a mug of hot chocolate. His fingers curl around the handle, but he settles for cradling it while staring down into the liquid. "You can all go back to bed."

"Fuck off," Jason says, "you think any of us can go back to sleep after that?"

"Language," Alfred gently chides. "Master Bruce is right. There is little else we can do for the evening. Our young Flittermouse is in good hands, and Master Harold will alert us to any significant changes, if there are any."

"And Dick," Tim says. He's drained his cup. Bruce gives Tim his, and he takes it to keep his hands busy. "He texted me back. He's gonna meet Hal at Gotham Central."

"Thank you for telling him," Bruce says. He turns to Damian, who hasn't looked away from his own cup. "Damian? How are you fairing?"

"Fine," he says too quickly. He grimaces and tries again. "I am just fine. Merely surprised the illness turned this bad."

Surprised is the understatement of the century. You're alive, you're in good hands, but he can't get the image of you foaming out the mouth and jerking uncontrollably out of his mind. He can't stop hearing you choking and gasping for oxygen. He can't stop thinking about how you might be dead right now if he hadn't listened to his gut and checked on you.

You might be dead right now if he hadn't checked on you. Surrounded by a family of vigilantes who had been none the wiser.

"I want to go to the hospital," he says suddenly. "I know you won't permit me to drive, so someone else needs to take me there. Now, preferably."

Bruce rests a hand on Damian's shoulder. "You did your part, son. You got help and they're gonna be okay. You don't have to —"

"I'm sorry," Damian says, "I don't know why I phrased it like a request. I need to get to the hospital, so I can either be driven there or find my own way."

There's silence for a minute. Damian sits still while wordless conversation is exchanged with everyone else at the table. For a brief moment, he feels like the baby of the family again.

He almost would have reclaimed that title if he hadn't found you —

A hairline crack appears in his mug. He stands from his seat and Bruce's grip on his shoulder briefly gets tighter.

"I'll take you," Bruce says. "Pack a Go Bag and meet me in the driveway in ten minutes."

"I'll be there in four," Damian replies, heading off. He fetches a change of clothes, his sketchbook, a phone charger, and swings by your room to grab the plush bat you sleep with in your bed.

--

Dick is sitting in a stiff plastic chair in the emergency room lobby, dressed in a thick hoodie, sweats, and a baseball cap to avoid getting any excessive attention at three in the morning. He won't stop chewing on his thumbnail when Damian walks in and kicks his leg.

"Report," he demands.

"Hello to you, too, baby bird," Dick mumbles. He tips his head up just enough to be able to make eye contact under the lip of his hat.

"I'm growing very tired of repeating myself in this family," Damian hisses. Dick sits up fully at that and sighs.

"They stopped seizing," he explains. "Haven't woken up yet, so they're in an observation room getting some blood drawn and being prepped for an MRI. Only one family member's allowed back at a time, so Hal is with them."

"Tell him to switch me places," Damian demands. "I don't have his number."

"You're gonna put it in your contacts after this," Dick says. A statement, not a question. Damian nods solemnly. "Good. I'll text him."

Damian sinks into the chair beside Dick and sets his bag on the ground, digging out his cellphone. He takes a peek at the group chat he's in with his brothers, scrolling through more recent messages talking about your upcoming birthday, and whether or not you're turning old enough to get a cellphone of your own. Bruce insists a seven-year-old will not need one, but everyone has been collaborating on a PowerPoint presentation to show Bruce all the points in favor of it.

All of Dick's points have just been "I can ask for selfies any time," and all of Jason's have just been "I'll finally have a reason to use my own if I can call Mousey whenever I want," so it's largely been Damian and Tim coming up with points that might actually sway Bruce.

He scrolls further back in the chat history in lieu of anything else to do, stopping to look at any pictures each brother has exchanged. A new book series Jason took interest in. An article about high tension wires Tim shared. Lots and lots of selfies from Dick. God, his eldest brother's picture should be in the dictionary next to Vanity. An article featuring Dick on the cover of Vanity Fair.

He's about to close out of the chat when he spots a picture Jason sent about two weeks ago of you. You're outside in the Manor gardens and clearly asleep in a patch of sunflowers, likely having worn yourself out playing. The sky in the background is clear for once, and the sun is just starting to set, which means the flowers are starting to turn to the next brightest source of light.

They're all facing you.

The framing is impeccable. It's a beautifully-captured, candid moment, likely taken seconds before Jason descended and woke you up with a surprise tickle ambush, as he tends to do when he finds any sibling napping somewhere, the bastard.

Damian makes it his lock screen, then pockets his phone and waits there in silence with his brother.

--

You're sleeping when Damian finally gets to see you again. Hal relented to switching places with him, knowing he would find his way to you regardless of his answer, so he didn't put up any fight.

He stands quietly in the observation room the entire two hours it takes to run all your scans, then follows the nurses as you're wheeled into a room and hooked up to some fluids and a heart rate monitor. They tell him that you're not likely to wake for at least a few more hours, but he's adamant that he's to stay at your side.

When he's alone, he snags your charts and looks them over, using his limited medical knowledge to glean as much as he can from the report. As far as he can tell your brain is fine, which is the biggest relief, but he's still going to grab a nurse and make them explain the parts he doesn't understand to him so that he can get the whole picture.

Damian digs your bat plushy out of his bag and gingerly tucks it under one of your arms. Your skin is pale and clammy when he makes contact with it, and he scowls.

"If you get any worse, I'll be livid," he tells your unconscious body. "Stop scaring your family. It's unbecoming of a Wayne."

You, understandably, don't respond. Damian watches your chest move smoothly up and down, watches the monitor display your heart rate, but he still keeps a hand around your wrist to track himself. The tangible proof of life helps settle the deep anxiety in his chest.

"I mean it," he mutters, "if you develop some kind of complication, or seize again, or d —"

He grits his teeth and shoves away the surge of panic that threatens to overwhelm him. Breathes slowly and deeply. Moves his hand from your wrist to lace your fingers together with his, squeezing tightly.

"The thought should never have crossed my mind. You simply have to get better," he says, factual. "You don't have a choice, even if I have to give up my mantle to...hnn."

Damian falls silent as he looks at you. An idea forms in his mind, blooming quickly. Roots take shape and travel down his spine, until they find a home in his chest and curl around his heart. He's hit with a wave of certainty he's never felt before in his life.

He messages the group chat with his brothers, sending a singular text, then digs out his sketchbook and a pen with one hand while he continues to hold onto yours.

Damian to All: I want to go to medical school.

--

You awaken with a massive headache. It's bright and hot and you're terribly dizzy. You're confused, knowing you went to sleep last night in your large, dark bedroom, with silky sheets and your stuffy, but now you're lying in a tiny cot with one scratchy sheet and being blinded by the overhead light.

"Daddy," you try to call out, but your throat is hoarse and you start coughing. It feels like you've swallowed a box of knives. Something squeezes your hand and you feel a palm against your forehead. "D-...D..."

"You're safe. Breathe as slowly as you can. I'm going to sit the bed up."

The voice is familiar. You squint blearily in the light and can just barely make out your brother's face.

"D-Dami?" You croak, wheezing for breath.

"Yes, Flit, it's me," he says. Once you're more or less upright, he briefly leans across you. "Pardon the reach. I'm going to put a cup of water in your free hand. Drink it very slowly."

You fumble with the cup. Damian helps you hold it, and you take small sips. It doesn't soothe the stinging in your throat, but he looks so uncharacteristically worried for you that you just keep drinking the water until it's empty.

"How do you feel?" He asks.

"Bad," you mumble. "Where are we?"

"Gotham Central Hospital." Damian puts the empty cup aside and sits down in the chair next to your bed. He still hasn't let go of your hand. "Your illness took a bad turn, and you had a seizure last night. Doctors brought you here to make you better."

"Oh. Am I better now?"

"Not yet." Damian grabs the clipboard with your information on it and glances over it again. "We know that you have severe viral pneumonia, but it's not lobar or interstitial like I thought. I suspect your seizure isn't part of the original problem, just a manifestation...of...um."

Damian stops talking when he notices your confusion. You scrunch your nose and give him a helpless frown.

"I don't know what that means," you say softly. You look absolutely devastated. "Am I gonna die?"

Damian's heart leaps into his throat. He squeezes your hand almost painfully tight and stands from his chair, leaning over you with wide eyes. The green in his irises almost seem to flash, like Jason's when he's extremely angry.

"No," he says fiercely, saying your name with a shakiness you've never heard before. "You will not die. I won't let it come to that."

You stare back at him, sniffling.

"Promise?"

"I promise. I swear it."

You relax a little. "Okay. I trust you, Dami."

Your brother's face does a strange twist. It looks like his eyes start to get shiny, but he leans down and rests his head against your shoulder before you can really find out. He smells like home, instead of the weird, chemically-clean scent of the hospital room, which is comforting.

His arms come around you in a gentle hug. You lift your hands and reciprocate as best as you can, limbs feeling like jelly. It's nice. Damian doesn't hug you very often, so you do your best to savor it. When he pulls away, his expression is carefully neutral and closed off again. He sits back down and resumes holding your hand.

"Father and Timothy are in the waiting room, if you'd like to see them," he says, checking his phone. His notifications have been flooded with questions from his brothers (and demands for pictures from Dick, for some reason. You're sick, not posing for a photoshoot). He brings up his dial pad, ready to call whomever you want.

"Yeah," you nod, desperate for comfort from more of your family. You don't like the bright hospital room. You hope having more people around will make it less eerie.

Damian rings Bruce without fanfare and tells him your room number, then hangs up again. He goes to stand, about to leave the room, but you tighten your grip on his hand before he can slip away.

"Stay?" You ask quietly.

He sits back down instantly, brows raised. You don't spend much time with Damian, considerably less than you do with your other brothers, but he seems taken aback by you seeming to enjoy his company just as much as the others'.

"Yes," he says, voice whisper-soft, "I'll stay with you."

You give him a tired smile. Then your ears start ringing and your vision whites out. The last thing you hear before losing consciousness is Damian's frantic cry of your name.

[sreppub]

I wish you would write a fic where Jason thinks he's an intimidating werewolf and everyone else has to convince him he's just a big pupper, and that's okay!!! (You're right; we do sometimes just need a Big Pupper AU!)

Dick refuses to be cowed by some 'roided up runt.

The second armchair from the right is his favourite seat in the family room, and it is unfortunately Jason's favourite as well. He would have thought that, with tonight being the full moon and all, a werewolf would want to be somewhere out on the vast, wooded manor grounds eating baby rabbits or chasing his tail or something, but apparently their resident lycanthrope feels like having a night in. And while Jason had to take precious time to rinse off his dirty paws in the mudroom (lest he soil Alfred's floors), Dick had kicked his shoes into the coat closet with perfect aim and snagged The Seat for himself in preparation for a post-backyard-soccer-game movie night.

Dick is trying to enjoy the cute little dragon movie Damian put on, wrapped up in one of the old throws they keep in the hall closet just outside the den, except his stupid brother has planted himself between Dick and the screen, staring him down like if an evil horse were a fucked up dog. Dick doesn't need to speak wolf to understand what Jason wants from him; he just doesn't care.

"I got here first, Jase," Dick scoffs. "Will you move, please?"

The large, brown wolf does not move, in fact. His gaze is focused and heated like he's trying to spontaneously develop laser vision and kill Dick dead. He's slowly leaning into Dick, razor-sharp teeth inching closer, hackles raising, a low growl rumbling from his massive furry throat. Those finger-sized claws can (and have) tear bigger men than Dick clean into two. His eyes glow in the dim light, rage crackling behind the hard glare.

It's too bad Dick isn't scared at all. A regular person might feel a chill as an unnaturally huge wolf starts snarling and spittling into his face, but Dick has seen this moron with those goofy prepubescent puppy feet and pathetic little "awoo" howls. Jason looks scary and grimlike now, but all Dick can see is the big puppy who likes romance novels and belly rubs. Ignoring the growls that get louder as his hand gets closer, Dick flicks Jason's angry, scrunched up snout without fear. The wolf's eyes seem to burn with indignant rage, and he snaps his huge, killer maw at Dick's outstretched hand a few times.

"Jason," Duke snaps with exasperation from beside them on the corner couch seat. "Shut up."

The wolf turns his pointed gaze at the teen and Dick flicks him again. Suddenly, a nearly three hundred pound wolf pounces straight at him. The chair nearly tips over, even with the reinforced base that Bruce installed in most of the furniture when he got a kid who liked to do flips off of them.

The chair is just not big enough for two large men—much less one large man and a large wolf draped across his lap—but Dick remembers a time when he and a juvenile wolf fit pretty comfortably with fondness, so he'll accept the loss of feeling in his legs for now. Whatever shuts Jason up for the rest of the movie.

(for the record, wolves get up to like, 180 lbs. jason is a big motherfucker.)

[limarkova]

Experimental Obsession

Pt 9

Author's note: Hey guys! I promise I have not disappeared my school semester is just kicking up and I'm focusing on that. Anyway I started up a Ko-Fi so you want to you can leave a tip. Link is my bio. As always thank you for reading my work and all the engagement. Writing this has been oddly therapeutic so I'm glad that someone is enjoying it.

Prev Next

The Library was once again quiet as you walked in. One of the librarian nodded to you as you strolled by. Quietly opening your bag, you returned some of the books you got the other day. A part of you still felt buzzy and hollow. The strange tickling feel lingered in your chest like a bad habit. A part of you felt like that feeling was going be there forever and you hated that. You were saved from it when you caught sight of your investigation notebook inside your bag the feeling changed.

The tingling shifted into a burning rage that smoldered in the pit of your being. Filling the hollow space inside of you with venomous smoke. It killed the small pieces of hope that said your 'family' was telling the truth, that they didn't know. The smoke took the hollowness away. You loved the rage for that, embracing it like life-line.

Turning to the study areas in the back you moved to the one you used yesterday. Talia wasn't there yet. In the isolated part of the library, you began to update your journal.

First you scraped your orginial list. Things were changing, you couldn't punish the whole family. No it wouldn't be fair to those who were involved. Plus you knew you needed to hone your intentions from experience. Even though you could have gone after all the scientists and guards during your escape, you focused on the exit instead to ensure you got out. It had more you more efficient. That's what you needed here.

Obviously there was Bruce simply because he had to have approved the whole thing. You wrote Bruce Wayne at the top left of the page. Under his name you wrote the evidence you did have, the financial records. You thought back on the past days than wrote down, "Past injuries to Robins/Allies=Motive?"

On the right side of the paper you wrote Richard Grayson. Under his name you wrote attempted to get information, admitted to knowing boarding school was a lie, was one of four to know 'real' boarding school location. Thinking a bit you decided to add "potential motive= over protective of allies/ Jason's death?"

Halfway down the page under Bruce's name you wrote Alfred Pennyworth. Beneath it you wrote pretty much the same thing as Dick; knew about the boarding school and was one of four to know real location. Afterwards you wrote "painfully loyal to Bruce. Would have information on what happened? Motive=Unclear."

On right side of the page and on the same lines as Alfred you wrote, Cassandra Cain/Wayne. Under her name you wrote "Choose the 'boarding school'. May have read investigation journal. Spied on me two years before kidnapping." For motive you simple drew a question mark. You honestly had no clue why she would have chosen to help Bruce with the experiments.

You considered adding Barbara but stopped yourself. Yes this morning had been a lot but the signs on her were mixed. If she was acting the part much like Dick was than she was just as dangerous to interact with. Yet if she wasn't and genuinely wanted to help than maybe she would be a good source of information. She might be a good source either way. You'd leave her off the list for now.

Turning the page you had just barely written out Edward Davis and Clint Owen when someone cleared their throat. Closing the notebook, you saw Talia standing at the entrance of the study area. Giving her your best easy going smile you greeted her, "Hello Ms.Talia"

"Hello dear. How are you doing today?" She set her bag down on the table. It let out a soft thud when she set it down. You guess she had learning tools in it. That or books, it was a library after all.

You nodded to her and began to pull out different notebook. Tucking your investigation notes away for bow. She watched the exchange with a raised eyebrow. Her mouth quirked to the side and she tilted her head towards your bag. A nervous laugh left your mouth, "Yeah, I'm doing okay. Sorry this one's my diary, don't think I should mix personal problems with Arabic notes."

"Oh, I'm glad you journal. It's good for development." She gave you that mother's smile she had. Something in you preened at the look but it was under cut by your own sarcastic thoughts. 'Would she be proud if she knew what it was really for?'

She gestured behind her to someone hidden just out of sight from the little alcove. "I have someone I want you to meet."

A man stepped into view. He was slightly taller than Jason but not by much. His hair appeared to be well groomed, almost like it was permanently styled. Parts of his hair were white, not in the salt and pepper white of aging but in a way that felt intentional. His features were stoic and calm. Something about him reminded you of half your family. Maybe it was sure footing or the steady stance but you knew he was trained to fight.

Yet that wasn't what stopped your brain. He was familiar. Not in the I've seen him on the street before way but in a deeper, I've known you in the past way. It felt like something in you cracked it's eyes open. That hidden part of you whispered to watch, to learn, to leave. Need this new thing in you be quiet you spoke quickly, "I'm sorry but have we met before?"

Talia blinked looking at the man. He also gave a slight look of surprise that disappeared quickly. Whatever their reactions were it was enough to get that part of you to quiet down. Tension left your body as you watched how the man would respond. There was an edge to his smile that told you he was impressed, "I don't believe we have. My name is Ra's Al Ghul, I am Talia's father."

"I'm (Fake Name). Are you one of the material art teachers Ms.Talia mentioned?" You held your hand out to him. If he was slightly impressed before he was completely impressed now.

Shaking your hand he asked, "How could you tell?"

You thought for a minute before answering, "The way you stand. Everyone I know who has had extensive training of some kind stands a certain way. Almost like they can't help but do it automatically."

That seemed to be the right answer. Both him and Talia shared a look. Ra's gave a subtle nod that made Talia's smirk grow the smallest but. She lifted an eyebrow as if to say 'watch' before clapping her hands once.

"Well than, after your lessons today my father will show you some of the basics." Talia offered, pulling things out of her bag. You looked at the items intrigued, it seemed to be learning aid for a different alphabet. An eager smile crossed your lips as you readied your notebook.

Jason leaned against his motorcycle holding a kid sized helmet. A cigarette hung out of his lips as he waited, watching the library doors like a hawk. Roy was nearby on his own bike. Neither one of them spoke.

Finally (Name) came out from the library. She was clutching her backpack looking around the space. When her eyes caught on him, she got a confused look. Jason put out his cigarette, gesturing for her to come over. "Hey kiddo."

"What are you doing here?" She walked up to him. Her body was angled away from him. A habit she seemed to have picked up with everyone.

Jason shrugged, "Tim told me to pick you up. Didn't he text you or something?"

Her face slackened before she bluntly stated, "I don't have a phone."

"Shit, did that get stolen too?" Jason rolled his eyes. Of course her kidnappers would take her phone, that was kidnapping 101. Maybe they could track it down to try find some evidence.

She gave he an absurd look, "No. I've never had a phone."

"The fuck..." Jason rubbed his eyes. Bruce was going to send you to a foreign country without a phone. No fucking wondered she got kidnapped. He tossed her the helmet, "Okay, we're fixing that. Put the helmet on let's go."

"And where are we going to?" She caught the helmet but didn’t put it on. In fact she gave it a strange look before turning her gaze back to him. Her look told him she didn't trust him. That wasn't good, he needed her to trust him.

Before he could answer, Roy spoke up. Jason couldn't tell he wanted to punch Roy or thank him for what left his mouth, "We're gonna go get lunch than see if we can max out your Dad's credit card."

"Sorry what?"

"Yeah, take you phone shopping than grab whatever else you need. Or want honestly." Roy snubbed out his own cigarette before lazily stretching. (Name) looked at the helmet for second before looking back to Jason and Roy. Jason could see consideration in her eyes.

"Can I get one those fake nose piercing things with the magnet to give Bruce a heart attack?" She gave them a sweet guilty smile and batted her eyelashes. Jason snorted, trying not laugh. Roy didn't care and double over laughing.

Of course her first thought was how to piss off Bruce with this. There was a surge pride in his chest. She gave him a hald assed shrug. Jason gave in to the laughter, "Fuck. You are my sister!"

"Hell yeah, let's go!" Roy pulled himself together enough to get on his bike. Jason gestured for her to put on the helmet and hop on. He secured her in the seat behind where he would sit before hopping on himself. After giving her a quick safety brief, they were flying down the highway.

The rest of the Outlaws were waiting for them at a Burrito Buck down by Jason's apartment. He lived relatively close to Crime Alley so if her goal was give Bruce a heart attack he was helping already. Everyone was passing around greasy Mexican food when him, Roy and (Name) pulled in. Jason could feel his phone going crazy in his jacket pocket. Handing his sister over to Roy he pulled out his phone to see what was going on.

4 missed calls from B

7 missed calls from Dick🖕

2 missed calls from Cyber Stalker

8 missed calls from Human Flashlight

3 missed calls from Murder Germlin

4 missed calls from Purple Chick

1 text unread message from Tim.

Jason sighed running his hands through his hair. What the fuck could have happened for them to be calling this much. Just when he was about to call one of them back he saw the preview of Tim's text. "She doesn't want to see Bruce" the rest of the message was faded out. Jason went to click the notification when his phone started ringing again.

"Great..." Jason rolled his eyes. His phone blaring a custom ringtone warning that his brother was calling. Pressing answer he launched right into it, "What do you want, Dick?"

"Where are you? You were supposed to be back by now? Is (Name) with you?" Dick panicked voice came out of the phone. Jason almost rolled his eyes again. This is what got them all panicking. Did they seriously not trust him with her?

"Yeah, (Name) with me. She said she was hungry so we stopped to get food." Jason shrugged moving towards the restaurant's window. He could see Roy leading his sister to the table. Kori immediately got up to hug her but was pulled back by Artemis.

"Dude, we were going to take her to get lunch before doing a family day." Dick half whined in his ear.

Jason paused. He racked his memory for when someone mentioned a family day but couldn’t come up with anything really. "Hold up. When did you guys decide to do a family day?"

"This morning at breakfast. Steph pointed out that (Name) and Duke have never been apart of a family day. So we decided to have one." Dick said it like it was the most obvious thing ever.

Jason popped his jaw to relieve the tension that shot through his body. He had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn't the one picking her up he wouldn't have been invited. Rolling his neck he sarcastically drawled out, "Okay. So when were you going invite me?"

There was a heavy pause. Dick said the words like he handling a bomb, "when you got here with (Name)?"

"Alright." Jason smirked to himself. If they wanted (Name) they have to find her. He knew his phone location was scrambled, a habit he picked up somewhere. "We're at the Red Lobster in the Heights. Haven't placed our order yet so if you wanna join in be my guest."

"The Heights? Dude what are you doing over there?" Dick asked. Jason didn't have to hide his mischievous smirk. The family would lose their shit on him for this but he didn't care.

"Didn't the one by the manor close down. Beside this one has the best cheddar biscuits."

"Just stay there we'll be there in 10 minutes." Dick said before hanging up. Jason nodded his head and clicked his tongue. He was going to have so much fun today. Turning his phone off, he went inside the Burrito Bucket.

His sister was sitting next to Roy listen to him tell a story. She had a taco in hand nodding along to what he was saying, sour cream stuck in the corner of her mouth. She giggled as Roy finished his story, "Yeah so after leaving me in a Denny's Bathroom for 30 minutes without pants, the dude had the audacity to sit there showing me photos."

"What story did you just tell her?" Jason squeezed into the booth with the rest of the Outlaws. One look around the table told he really didn't want to know. Everyone at the table had a shit eating grin. His sister let out a devious little giggle. He started to hope it wasn't an inappropriate one.

"You left him in a Denny's without pants to go and watch my 2nd grade science competition?" She sounded half shocked and half amused.

Jason groaned face palming. Oh course it was that story. Roy would never let him live it down, "Please tell me you didn't tell her why you were pantless in a Denny's Bathroom."

The Outlaws started to laugh. It was Artemis that responded to (Name)'s question, "He's done shit like that to all of us. He had Bizarro fly him back to Gotham leaving me somewhere in the Amazon Rainforest for a Christmas recital."

Bizarro nodded with a huge smile, "He did not."

"Yeah, and than he'll sit there showing us pictures of the event he ditched us for." Roy laughed before taking a bite of his burrito. Jason was hiding his face behind his hand. Sometimes he forgot that the Outlaws loved to embarrass him.

(Name) turned to him. Her expression was a mix of confused and happy. His heart dropped at she said, "I thought you didn't show up to any of those cause you hated me."

Jason blinked looking at her. He had shown up but stayed hidden from her. He was dangerous to be around, he knew that much. Yet he couldn't stop himself from wanting to be there. He sighed pulling her into a side hug. She tensed but let him, "B depends on the day of the week honestly, but you never."

She looked up at him with bright eyes, the small amount of sour cream still stuck to the corner of her mouth. He grabbed a napkin and wiped it away.

Maybe it was parental instinct, that made Roy keep an eye on the girl. She was close in age to Lian. Whatever it was he was glad he did. (Name) showed startling signs of PTSD. From the hypervigilance to disassociation to increase anxiety, shame, sadness and aggression. It was made worse knowing the family she was in. The Wayne's would support her but it was unlikely she'd get the professional help she desperately needed.

They had gone to a mall with a phone store to get her set up. Kori and Jason's Sister were up ahead of them talking. Suddenly there was a squeal of excitement from the little one and she bolted ahead. Kori shrugged, "She saw something she likes."

With that Kori ran ahead to keep an eye on her. Roy stopped Jason before he jog to catch up to the girls. The vigilante seemed confused when Roy stopped him. Taking a deep breath Roy began, "You need to get your sister help."

"What?" Jason gave Roy a weird look. The two look at each for a moment. Roy took a deep breath, not a great way to start this conversation. Still he pushed forward.

"You and your family have a bad habit of just toughing through your mental health issues." Roy placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. He continued on, "Yes, you all support each other but when it comes to the more serious stuff all of you tend to just destroy yourselves. She doesn't deserve that. If you get her actual therapy and help than she has a chance of being normal. Or at least not implode on herself."

"Dude she'll be fine. I'm gonna keep her safe from now on." Jason shoved Roy away from him. Roy watched as Jason walked towards her with a sinking feeling. This didn't feel right. If (Name) didn't get the help she deserved, he could only imagine the path she'd end up going down.

They found her and Kori at the pound's adoption in the mall set up. The two girls were currently playing with a small cat. The paper displayed said the kitten was a russet dark ginger cat named Churro. (Name) looked up at them with wide begging eyes, "Can we keep him?"

"B told Damian no more animals." Jason sighed shaking his head. The little girl's face dropped slight before morphing into a pleading smile. Roy looked over to Jason who had a contemplating look.

"He told Damian no more animals. He has literally never said anything to me." She spoke in an pleading tone, pulling Churro closer to her. It was adorable to watch but the last sentence caught Roy's attention. He couldn't explain what it was about it, the tone or the wording. That hurt seemed to be coming back with a slight rage.

"I don't know. I don't think it's safe to drive with a cat and a kid on the back of a motorcycle." Jason scratched his head. She looked down at Churro in despair. The kitten mewled before nuzzling into her arms. She gave it a little kiss to the forehead, giggling when the cat began to paw at her hair.

"I can watch her well you go get the car from your apartment." Roy offered to Jason. He could tell she was emotional attached to the kitten. Maybe it would help her when her world felt like too much. Similar to how he use to hold Lian when his world was too much.

Jason sighed before rolling his eyes. "Okay fine let me fill out the paperwork real quick."

Once Jason was gone to get the car, Roy sat next to the girl. She was petting Churro who was curled up in her lap. Kori was currently talking with the adoption lady about the different cats. Roy nudged her once, "Hey kiddo. Can I see your phone?"

She stopped petting Churro to consider him cautiously. Roy gave her a reassuring smile feeling his chest tighten. Finally she handed him her phone. He put his secondary number Jason didn't know about in her contacts as 'Uncle Will.' He than add his main number to her contacts under his real name.

"There. Now you can call me anytime you need something from this number." He pointed at his contact with his thumb showing her the screen. He than showed her the Uncle Will contact, "This one you can call if you are ever in a situation where you need a pick up no questions ask. All you have to do is press Call and say hey Uncle Will I got your message. The only thing I'll is where are you and are you safe, okay?"

"Why are you giving me this?" She took her phone back looking at the new contacts. Due to it being a new phone those contacts and Jason's were the only ones there. She had insisted on not getting any of her other family members numbers.

"I've made a lot of mistakes around your age." Roy rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Saying it felt like a understatement, he had taken part in massive fuck ups. Looking at (Name) reminded him that angry kid though, "I like to imagine if I had someone I though would pick me up no questions asked, I wouldn't have made at least a quarter of them. So if I can get you out of at least one dangerous situation, I'll consider it a win."

"Okay, but why give this to me?" She gestured towards herself with the phone.

Roy thought for a minute. He wasn't certain what was making him reach out to her. Maybe it was guilt for his past mistake or the little kid he use to be reflecting in the girl. Whatever it was may this necessary. So he decided to give her what he had wanted, "Because something tells you just want someone in your corner that cares regardless of what happens."

She blinked her face turning into a sad form of shock. Looking at the phone, she smiled. Roy considered reaching out to hug her. Yet before he could her face fell into a resigned melancholia. "Thanks, I guess."

"Come on, I have a great idea for giving Bruce a heart attack." He stood from the bench gesturing to a beauty store nearby, "I think that store has a hair dye called Arsenal Red."

That got her to smile. Roy sighed to himself slightly, hoping everything would turn out okay.

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[clockwayswrites]

Fresh Birb! Part 32

masterpost

“Thanks for the excuse to get some fresh air,” Danny said. He sounded grateful enough that Jason felt a little bad for using the ‘stroll around the yard’ as an way to gather some intel.

“Hey, trust me, I get how overwhelming the manor can get,” Jason said, “and there are a lot of us in house right now. It’s easier in small doses for sure.”

“I could see that,” Danny agreed. “But there’s also something nice about the full house. It’s all very… alive feeling.”

The words were more melancholy than they should be. They were more like how Jason, who knew the feeling of death all too well, might say them. It brought troubling thoughts to mind.

“Yeah, that can be nice about it. Sure is quieter if I’m not here or at Roy’s,” Jason agreed after maybe too long a moment.

“Is Roy that much more talkative when it’s just the two of you?”

“Oh, no. Well, yeah, but it’s more about his little girl, Lian. She’s three and a half and an absolute handful most days. She’s also at that age where she’s pretty much narrating her own life in half understandable babble so there’s just a lot of constant noise.”

Danny chuckled. “I bet. Stayed with a friend for a bit when I was between jobs and stuck there for a few months by a non-complete clause. Her one kid was that age at the time and the oldest five. I didn’t know just how much everything there was when having kids that age. It made me actually feel a little sorry for my parents.”

“You the youngest, oldest, or middle?”

“Youngest. I’ve got one older sister, Jasmine,” Danny said. “You could sorta say there’s a half a sibling too. I basically grew up with my best friend and there were some weeks I spent more time at his house than ours.”

“That close to him?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. That and it was easier, sometimes, to not be at home.”

“Oh.”

That implied some unfortunate things that Jason hadn’t quite been expecting. Danny seemed pretty well adjusted. He was even good at handling Damian, but Jason supposed that maybe part of that was because Danny had been through his own issues.

Danny just shrugged. “I have a life long friend out of it. We don’t see each other in person much these days since we’re on other sides of the country, but we still talk plenty.”

Jason gave a soft hum and, a beat later, asked, “What made you end up in Gotham of all places?”

“Wayne Enterprises, actually,” Danny said. “The rep in the industry as place to work is unparalleled really, especially for what I want to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Help people,” Danny said, honestly and with a crooked little smile. “Which I know sounds cheesy, but I really wanted to create things that help people. It’s not like I mind making a better cellphone battery or anything, but it’s nice to know that I get to work on things that help not just with the little, everyday issues but also the big, life changing ones. The fact that those things get to help the city I live in too is a real plus.”

“Gotham has a way of getting to you like that,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Danny replied softly, gaze in the direction of the Gotham sky line.

And then a scream split the air.

Not a human scream, thankfully, but a repeated screech that had both of them starting and looking around for the source. The screech turned to a warbling clucking as Jerry emerged from behind the landscaping. His tail was high and spread, his wing tips brushed the ground, and he was looking almost shockingly colorful.

“A turkey?”

“Damian’s.”

“Damian has a turkey,” Danny said slowly.

“And a cow,” Jason said. “Cat, dog, a few snakes. He tried to keep a rat but Alfred stopped that pretty quickly.”

Danny rubbed at his temple. “This is why he knew how to take care of wings, isn’t it?”

Jason tried not to smile. “That came up, huh?”

“He’s been sending Bruce information about it,” Danny answered.

Jerry made another loud warble and struck what Jason could only describe as a pose.

“So… does he do this often?”

“His name is Jerry, and nope,” Jason said and pulled out his phone.

Jerry strutted closer to Danny, tail feathers shaking.

“Oh… oh,” Danny said with the tone of someone for who horrible realization was dawning. “Can you, ah, talk him down?”

“I’m afraid I’m morally obligated to film this,” Jason said somberly. He couldn’t hold back his smirk any longer.

Danny shot him a withering look and started to back up towards the Manor. “Really.”

“Really. Good luck.”

“Well, fuck,” Danny said and then took off running.

Jerry followed at top speed with a scream.

Jason sent the video to Bruce. ‘You have competition.’

[kitkatscabinet]

SUCK, SUCK, BLOW

Requested: by anon

Summary: Giving the batboys that sloppy toppy (I personally hate sucking dick so I hope this is alright lol)

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x gn! Reader.

A/N: 18 + minors evaporate !! Unedited.

DICK GRAYSON

This man is a FREAK, since you've started dating, the two of you have done just about every position possible. That being said, he's obsessed with giving you head. And by the time he is ready to cum he wants to do it whilst fucking you, not in your mouth.

It takes some manoeuvring, catching him after a long patrol or work out when he’s slumped against the couch (you don’t let him get the sheets sweaty if it’s not from sex). But the second your hand wraps around the base of him and you’re pressing a teasing kiss to the tip of his dick he’s putty in your hands.

He’s got a trembling thigh thrown over your shoulder, hands clutching the closest couch cushion as he babbles incoherently.

Tries to pull you off several times cause “baby, He’s not gonna last. Honey, he’s gonna cum before he can fuck you” :((.

Somehow still doesn’t get that that’s kind of the point. Ends up accidentally overstimulating himself cause he’s trying not to cum while you’re trying very hard to make him.

JASON TODD

It's not often that Jason's in the mood to let you suck him off, not when he deals with and sees so much fucked up shit every day. When you do fuck, he wants to hold you close. Wants to kiss you senseless and bury his face in your neck.

Your best bet? Wake him up with it. Jason’s a light sleeper, he’ll pretty much wake up if you shift even an inch beside him but it’s not impossible. It still takes his brain a few seconds to kick the sleep from his system and if you’ve already got your lips wrapped around his dick then he’ll simply malfunction.

Forgets your name, forgets his name, forgets where the fuck he is the only thing he knows for sure is the glorious warmth sucking his soul out.

Tries to hide his groans by burying his face in his arm, you’re not afraid to use a little teeth to warn him otherwise.

Genuinely meets god for a few seconds after he cums, hips jerking as he moans so loud the neighbours are definitely gonna complain later.

TIM DRAKE

Blowjobs are how you often bribe him into spending time with you.

He’s working on a case for too long? Hand in his pants, until you can get your mouth on him, a lot harder for him to smack you away.

Busy dealing with WE shit? You’re on your knees beneath the desk until he’s dragging you home/to bed.

You really, really want something? He’s so fucking weak to the feel and sight of your tongue sliding against his dick that you can get him to promise you anything in the moment. Though he probably will forget about it so you need to record him making those promises :))

Cries. No matter how often you suck his dick he never gets used to it. It’s like he’s a virgin and it’s the first time anyone is ever touching him Every. Single. Time.

He’s so overworked and exhausted all the time that it honestly doesn’t take much before he’s trying to tug you off as tears line his lashes cause sweetheart you’ve already made him cum twice. He’s sensitive. He can’t go again yet!

(Spoiler alert: he can. Though he might need a few hours to recuperate after)

BRUCE WAYNE

We all know he's done some questionable shit to maintain his secret identity. Once you've been dating for a while you're even willing to sometimes help him nurture the Brucie Wayne act. It's never anything super raunchy, but one encounter with a slightly too friendly-for-comfort Selina Kyle later and it's you who's acting up.

Pulling him into an abandoned corridor of whoever's sprawling mansion this party is taking place in and dropping to your knees. He puts up a token protest, (you both know he could easily stop you) as you undo his slacks but the second your lips wrap around him he's a goner.

Listen, he’s disciplined. He’s withstood literal torture but the way you swirl your tongue against him before you take him so deeply your nose brushes his pelvis is probably the most overwhelming sensation he’s ever experienced.

Keeps one large hand on the back of your neck, forgets to even use it for leverage he’s so out of it, thighs shaking and head thrown back against the wall as he bites his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Hell, he’s so lost in the heavenly feel of your warm mouth he doesn’t even notice the scandalised giggles that ring out before disappearing as not one, but at least three separate couples stumble across you.

[invincibledc]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧.ᐟ

────୨ৎ────

𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 (𝐎𝐂) 𝐗 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐈𝐒!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

── .✦ summary: what’s worse than the boogie man? A obsessed clown boy. All cause of grown man couldn’t keep his disgusting words to himself, Jack has some things to handle on his own.

── .✦ genre: oneshot/Yandere

── .✦ info: kidnapping, Yandere themes, OC work. this OC is an OC I’m written for my own amusement. He’s the son of Harley Quinn and joker. Full name, Jacklyn Oswald Quinn. I got bored. Reader is the twin sister of Damian, but Damian is the older twin of course. Im only a writer so you can imagine who he looks more like but all I can is he is handsome canonically in my head and anything. Boy’s crazy but handsome.

── .✦ word count: 625

Vision blinded by some kind of sack on a man’s head. Jack ripped it off, showing his crooked smile and clown face with green hair. His hair slicked back as he chuckled at the scared look.

“Rise and shine!” he exclaimed in a cheery voice, moving back with a bounce. He couldn't help but stare at the wide-eyed man who tried to get up but couldn't due to the chains holding him down.

“Oh yeah. Don't even think about trying to get up silly.” the cheerful expression on his face then melted completely off as his eyes darkened. “You ain't going anywhere.” his scruffed voice lowered, turning his back to face the table of objects. It went from a crowbar, pliers, a drill, and a hammer.

The man seemed to notice as he screamed, but no sounds came out due to some cloth wrapped around his mouth. “Shut the hell up,” Jack says coldly, glancing at the man with emotionless eyes.

“You should’ve thought about your actions before catcalling teenage girls off the streets.” grabbed the crowbar, and a crazed smile spread across his face. “Especially my girl.” He taps the tip of the crowbar against his flat palm.

“Man… Ima have a fun time with you.” wide-eyed, the man screamed as Jack got ready to aim at his head. Soon a phone ring echoed in the air. Raising a brow, Jack pauses his mid swing and goes over to his phone. There he sees it says “Puddin`” with two red heart emojis and a picture of you and him in bed together making funny faces.

It seemed this made Jack immediately drop the crowbar and grab the phone with a sick love expression. He answers it with no reluctance.

“Yes my sugarplum!?” he exclaimed happily, jumping onto his table, and swinging his legs back and forth as he heard your sweet angelic voice from the other side.

“Hey, I was wondering if you can do an errand for me?” you asked, going downstairs of the Wayne manor to see your older brother arguing over who gets the last piece of food. You had already eaten so you didn't need to eat again.

“Of course my love, what pleasures do I owe you.” he purrs hearing you chuckle. “Okay, I just need you to get me some ice cream. I'm just craving it.”

“Of course love!” he says after listening to you, he hops off the table and walks over to the man. The man seemed to freeze and try to scream, Jack immediately muted himself, putting a gloved finger to his lips, his eyes narrowed as a dark look washed over his face.

“Be quiet. And I might be gentle on you.” Jack takes the man’s wallet and moves back, still looking at the man as if he were worth nothing. Which he is.

Unmuting himself, Jack smiles as he hears you. “Hello?” you questioned due to how unusual it was quiet.

“Yeah sorry about that hon, anyways yeah I'm going. [fav.flavor] ice cream right? Your favorite to just stuff your face in?” he says as he turns his back.

“Yeah! That's the one, thanks Jack. You’re the best. And of course, just try not to start a fight with Jason. You both were bruised and bloodied.”

“Of course, I always listen to you. I’ll be there.” as Jack hung up, he threw an ace card at the man, the man jolted as the card was sharp enough to stick to the wall beside him.

“You get to live approximately 35 minutes. And then it's show time for me.” a malicious laugh rang out from Jack’s mouth, sending dread all over the man who was still gagged and chained up.

“Cya later.” and with that, Jack left the man in that room.

Just to save him for later.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Dick:….

Jason:….

Tim:….

Dick: okay so was anyone gonna tell me Bruce is dating Joe Chills daughter or was I supposed to figure that out by myself.

Jason: HES WHAT

Tim:???????

Damian: I think I just threw up in my mouth

Cass: …is this that Freud guy you were telling me about?

Steph: somehow worse? I think?

Jason: Idk where does dating the daughter of your parents murderer fall on the Oedipus scale of morality?

Tim: more importantly where did you find out this information?

Damian: please tell me it’s a tabloid so I can bleach my brain of this conversation.

Dick: Babs tipped me off that something was up and I stalked em for a week

Tim: Ah classic

Jason: you really have one trick Grayson

Dick: Hey! No I do infiltrations, Tim and Cass are the stalker duo

Cass: *nods*

Jason: so… Bruce is actually dating the kid of the guy who offed mama and papa Wayne. That’s cold. I’m a little impressed actually.

Tim: Clark was RIGHT THERE

Dick: so was Selina

Steph: we could’ve had a Step wonder mom

Cass: you’re not adopted

Steph: is Wonder Woman was in this family I’d marry into it

Tim: *nods solemnly* Bernard would understand

Jason: Talia was there

Damian: that might be worse actually

Tim: nothing is worse than this

Dick: actually I might agree with Damian

Dick: anyway zatanna

Jason: didn’t you date her

Dick: that’s another timeline ignore it

Tim: Constantine

Damian: Dent

Dick: I’d take viki vale over this

Jason: same

Dick:…hey Duke can see into other realities right

Jason: depends on the writer..

Dick: when does he get back from his families

Tim: he stops by for 45 mins to steal some pastries and check his gear before patrol

Dick: … wanna see if we can get him to look into other realities and see the worst person Bruce has dated

Jason: yes

Tim: yes

Damian: no

Cass: yes

Steph: yes

Dick: you’re outvoted Damian I’ll see all of you tomorrow at the cave bright eyed and bushy tailed!

[ditzydoe444]

Jason finding out his sweet shy girlfriend has nipple piercings and/or a clit piercing

-🪼

a/n: i might have to make a part 2 with smut

“hey sweetheart,” jason whispered softly as you walked into his piercing room, you were a clingy little thing, being his shadow following him everywhere. “what are you doing here?” he snuggled deep into your neck smelling your sweet scent. you beamed, your huge smile displaying your pearly whites were enough to make him weak at the knees.

the two of you were polar opposites, he was the brooding tatted and pierced man who would make anyone walk away if they stared the wrong way at him, and you on the other hand? you were a ray of sunshine. you were too good for him, hence why the two of you haven’t had sex, he didn’t want to scare away the only good thing in his life, he couldn’t afford to.

you nodded, your teeth sank into the bottom of your lips as you undid his belt, “doors locked and receptionist said that you don’t have any more clients so?”

he frowned, grabbing your shoulders as he gently squeezed them. “you want your first time here? at my tattoo parlour?” jason always thought about making it romantic as cheesy as it seemed, you deserved the best and he was going to give you the best.

“i want it here jacey, please, i can’t wait anymore.”

you’ve waited for what felt like ages, you were always a little insecure but after a few months with him jason treated you like the best thing in the world, he was different.

without a warning he slammed his lips on yours, holding the back of your head tightly as he wrapped your hair with his hand. “fuck darlin,” he groaned as he lifted up to to the counter, tugging your skirt off as you lifted your shirt up.

jason’s eyes went wide seeing your nipples pierced, you didn’t seem like the type to have them, god you were scared of getting your cold shot done to the point of tears.

though his shock then turned into jealousy, who pierced you? who got to see you like that?

it didn’t help when you took your panties off, putting your knees up to your chest just for him to see a small piercing on your fucking clit.

“didn’t know you were pierced baby,” he cooed as he gently traced your wet folds, watching as the tips of his fingers glistened with your arousal.

you grinned shyly, “you don’t know a lot of things jacey.”

those things included how you spent the last month with fingers shoved up your cunt thinking it was him, humping your pillows before going to bed.

“who pierced them darlin?” his voice low, if your nipple piercings weren’t enough having some stranger piece your clit? god he was going insane.

“just some piercer down the street from my apart,” you gasped as he inserted a finger, his other hand stroking his cock.

“hm guess i’ll have to have a talk with them.”

[msfantasy-comics]

The Wayne Twins

Twin!Damian Wayne x Twin!Reader

Summary: a requested story on how Damian and Reader are twins. Talia gave up reader to Bruce, but kept Damian secretly. Damian arrives in and finally meets his father and sister.

A/n: Honestly I was so stuck with this request so I kinda just left it with an abrupt end, I tried my darnedest.

Damian has a strong held belief that his family dynamic is incredibly messy. Future psychologists will use the Al Ghul Family as a case study in their research… figuratively of course, no one can know of the Al Ghul family- let alone their issues.

Damians swears he’s not just some angsty pre-teen cursing his family for being the worst. His grandfather is the head of an elite assassination and expects him to take over the family business… killing people. Try having a narcissistic mother who started training her newborn before the umbilical cord was even cut and kills you at any given point as part of your training only to bring you back to life in the Lazarus pit... yeah, it’s messy.

Even worse. Try having a father, who no one dares to speak of. Did Damian’s father abandon him? Or is he dead? Does he even know about Damian? Does he even care?

Damian wasn’t sure. And it was clear that no one was going to supply any answers.

If Damian wanted to meet his father, he’ll have no choice but to seek him out. It was evident his mother was never intending to share any information for the foreseeable future.

Finally.

After months of unrelenting search, Damian finally uncovered the truth.

Bruce Wayne, Gothams wealthiest man is his biological father. And really, Damian isn’t surprised his father is so accomplished, it’s all simple genetics.

But the real cut-throat realisation came when Damian realised that Bruce was unaware of Damian’s existence, and that Bruce had other adopted children in his place.

Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake and Y/n Wayne.

As the rightful heir, there’s nothing more frustrating than seeing others gain what is rightfully yours.

But it wasn’t until Damian stood at the front door of Wayne Manner had he realised with great certainty that Y/n might actually be a blood relative.

Ignoring the fact they look nothing alike, Y/n had similar features to Bruce, or maybe it’s that Y/n had the same mannerisms as her father. Considering she was pictured with Bruce since a baby, it’s natural to pick up the same behavioural mannerisms as the person who raised you.

“Okay kid- how’d you get over the electric fence, laser sensors and bypass security cameras?” You drawl taking a slurp of your boxed juice as you stare out boredly at the unexpected visitor.

“Kid?! We are the same age!” Damian defends as you look down at him from the tip of your nose.

“Hmmm- sureeee…” Your condescending tone grates irritably on Damian’s nerves.

“I am here to reinstate my rightful place as father’s legitimate blood-son.” Your face sours as you stare down at Damian.

“Oh yeah? Who’s your mother?” You snort decisively. There’s no fucking way you’d even entertain such a claim.

“Tahlia Al Ghul.”

Well shit.

[stove-top96]

Water Colour Eyes

Chapter 01

Y Batfam x Gn Reader

Featuring: platonic Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (no Jason in this chapter)

2.3k words

Im very new to tumblr and was recently inspired by @acid-ixx to try writing my own story, please go easy on me but any and all advice will be greatly appreciated. (Im still trying to figure out how this app works but I know the basics). The only knowledge I have of working in a restaurant is bistro huddy.

Rubbing your temples you could just feel the headache forming. It was going to be one of those shifts, the kind that drags on and on. Standing behind the hostess stand shuffling through the reservation book scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Flipping through the pages only pausing once you spot his name “Bruce Wayne”. That name became a fixture in the book, always booking at 6:30 and specifically requesting you as his server. Within the past 2 months he’s definitely become your regular, and although he is technically your only regular, he just has a certain quality that sets him apart from your co-workers regulars. Sure he’s a pleasure to have as a customer, always punctual, kind, and very generous with the tips. There’s just something you can’t quite place your finger on, he tends to get a little personal. He started calling you by your first name, and always asked you about your life. But you’ve always chalked it up to him being a ditzy guy who’s never been told no. Even if he carries himself with a certain air, alluding that he knows much more than he lets on. it seems like no one else questions it, so why should you? Regardless, his tips were good enough to let him call you by your name and ask you about your personal life.

La Vie Royale was always busy on Fridays. Swarming with creeps who always stared too long, and buzzing with heiresses who always had something to complain about. For being Gothams richest they almost never tipped well, and when they did it was some lonely wealthy old weirdo on a date with their sugar baby. Co-workers weren’t much help either, specifically the superiors always criticizing and critiquing never bothering to hide the contempt in their voices when speaking. The Kitchen was like another world, one you weren’t welcome in. The other servers stayed in their lane, and always kept to each other. That’s what it’s like for every newbie who somehow snatches Gothams richest billionaire for a regular. The only saving grace was the hostesses who, like you, were at the bottom of the La Vie Royale food chain.

Glancing at the clock reading 5:47, plenty of time to mentally prepare for dealing with Albertine while you serve the playboy billionaire. Albertine was possibly the worst manager for the night, she’d always get so on edge when she’d find out he was dining here for the evening. Glancing over and you can see her talking to one of the other servers, eyes locked on you. God, you could just feel that headache getting worse, and after a long day of classes you pray he’d be a no show for once. Wishful thinking though, the best you can hope for is getting through this shift without a lecture. Rather than contemplating how dreadful this shift will be at the hostess stand, you might as well look busy and get a head start on your side work.

Once the minute hand hit 30 like clock work, Bruce Wayne walked in. Smiling at the familiar face of the regular, this time he wasn’t alone. Three young men walked in right after. Raising an eyebrow, they were clearly in the same party. Why didn’t his assistant say he’d have guests when they booked him the reservation? Looking more closely at the boys it’s clear they also have that odd quality in common with Mr Wayne. One looked barely out of high school, and had been scrolling on his phone with a smirk on his face. The youngest, likely in middle school, had an aura that demanded a respect unfit for his age. The oldest, probably in his mid twenties, seemed to have a natural charm to him. You had always known Wayne had his fair share of children, he talked about them often although you could never put a name to a face.

“Wow Mr Wayne, you finally brought some guests with you today” you tease as you greet the group and check them in for their reservation. you hear a chuckle and glance up to see Bruce’s smile, it’s warm and reaches his eyes. “Well I figured it was about time I took my kids out with me”. Giving a polite nod and smiling as he introduces his kids. “I see, your table will ready in a few minutes, we didn’t expect you to bring any guests tonight” Mr Wayne huffs eyeing the oldest “I apologize it was a last minute change in plans, Dick was visiting and insisted on going out” The oldest Dick chimes in “you’ll still be able to fit us in right?” His voice is calm, like he knows the answer and just wants you to hear you talk. “ I’m sure we can, I’ll just have to go clear the table” eyes glued to the reservation book, moving some other reservations around to accommodate the new change. Something a restaurant as refined as La Vie Royale would never do, although Albertine and every other superior insisted that Mr Wayne be accommodated in any way possible. He brought good press, and according to a rumour amongst the staff he even considered buying it a while back. Giving the group a polite nod as you rush off, to clear the other tables. Missing the brief dejected look on the oldest boy's face.

Albertine noticing the Wayne family standing alone makes a beeline towards them. “Have you been helped yet?” She asks in a voice the family could only describe as sickly sweet. “Yes our server is just clearing the table” Tim’s voice monotone, not even bothering to glance up from his phone. Albertine pauses, eyes widening for a split second then back to the false smile “I see” she says as if contemplating something before walking away, sending a sharp glare in your direction as she does. The interaction not going unnoticed by the Wayne’s. “you will be at fault if they get reprimanded” Damian pipes up glaring at Tim. Staring down at the younger Wayne, “she’ll find something to get mad at tonight no matter what” he argues back, knoe he doesn’t have the best excuse. A small feeling of guilt starts to bubble in his chest. Tim realized his slip up too late. It's likely you’ll get yelled at for keeping such “prestigious guests waiting” once they’ve finished with their meal. Glancing at Dick’s and Bruce’s faces, it’s clear they’re planning ways to ease the consequences you’ll likely face later tonight. Tim glances back down to Damian only to find his glare still present.

“Thank you for your patience” your voice pulls them out of their trance, calming down the rising tension. It reminds them of why they came tonight, to see you. Oblivious to their true intentions you smile, grabbing the menus “follow me”. As you lead them to their table Bruce and Tim make note of how many others are sitting in your section for the night, some of them they recognize from galas others are unimportant. however your section is completely full. Finally reaching their table, it isn’t Bruce’s normal table much to his disdain; he doesn't have the vantage point to subtly watch over you. Although one thing he can see from his seat is that horrid woman glaring at you, waiting for the chance to take you away from them only just to scold you. After dropping off the menus and giving a rundown of the night's specials, you leave telling them you’ll be back in a few minutes for their orders. As you walk away Bruce notices your manager snapping with her hands and glaring at you with that permanent scowl on her face. She motions for you to follow her to the back.

After witnessing that interaction the boys are only left to imagine what she’s yelling at you about. Most of the family members are able to hide their contempt after seeing your manager's rude behaviour, the witch’s actions will likely dictate the mood for the rest of the night. Dick is the only one visibly upset, Blüdhaven has been so chaotic recently getting to see you tonight had been the only thing that kept him from falling apart. Now because that wicked witch of the waste is on some power trip, whatever lecture she’s giving you right now will weigh on you the whole night, leaving you to be even more reserved than you already are. How is he supposed to be a good brother to you if you don't let him in?,The rest of the family comes to a similar conclusion. It's clear that this job environment is an unhealthy one, they would rather you work somewhere else, or better yet not at all. The only reason they’ve allowed you to work here for so long is because it’s the most practical way to grow closer to you. Once they’re further along with the plan, you won’t ever have to step foot in this place again.

“Sorry about the wait” your voice soft, eyes not meeting theirs, face carrying a faint frustration. their prediction clearly came to fruition, much to the family’s displeasure. “What can I get y’all to drink” you smile, attempting to remain composed as you take their orders. A quality of yours the family admired, although they often wished you’d take your mask off and allow yourself to be vulnerable around them. But for now they’re your guests, not your family. Writing down their order smiling the same forced smile “perfect I’ll be right back with those” once again walking away. “Why can’t that women understand they’re not meant to handle that much pressure, it’s absurd how she expects them to perform optimally now” Damian voices his opinion, his expression unreadable to most but it’s evident to the family he’s unbelievably angry at just how much you let that women affect you. “Why can’t you just fire her, it would make our baby bird's life much easier” Dick who is also in aggrence, his protectiveness evident in his voice. Dick’s question goes unanswered. Truthfully even if some of the family tries to dénie it, the reason they kept all these horrible coworkers around you was selfish. They wanted to push you to your limits, before they swooped in to save you.

3 minutes is the standard time for a table to wait for drinks. However with the Waynes your managers instilled into the whole staff that they never wait for a table, 1 minute 50 seconds is their standard for drinks and 25 minutes for food. With Albertine breathing down your neck, having 4 other tables to attend too, and a pounding headache. there’s not much keeping you from breaking down. The only thing you want right now is your bed, but that won’t happen for at least another 4 hours depending on when you're cut. At least Roa clocks in at 7:00, which is in roughly 10 minutes. Finishing off the drinks with Bruce’s red wine, you push down your stress and prepare to head over. “Here you go” you place everyone’s respective drinks in front of them. “Is everyone ready to order” hand instivily reaching for your notebook, but remembering what Albertine told you in the back “if you want to look somewhat professional at least memorize their orders, no notepad” you stop yourself, and pray they don’t order anything too complicated. “I’ll have the 8oz steak, medium rare” Burce’s order wouldn’t be a problem, he always got the same thing. “Can I get the Coq au vin” the oldest boy orders, who you’re pretty sure is dick. Tim goes next “I’ll get the boeuf bourguignon”, he has a satisfied smirk, probably because he has the best pronunciation so far. “may I have the ratatouille” The youngest orders, clearly annoyed by his brother’s antics. “Perfect I’ll go ring those in”, mumbling their orders to yourself as you ring them in, thankful they didn’t ask for any accommodations or changes you should be able to remember them just fine.

“They won’t make a mistake will they?” Dick asks, stressed at the fact they didn’t grab their notebook. “They shouldn’t, although if you ordered what you originally wanted they definitely would have” Bruce’s answer’s straight to the point. Although there’s a subtle praise in his wording, appreciating how they eased your workload. “It’s despicable just how much they're overworking them here” Damian's scowl seems to be permanent as he watches you attend to other tables, he knows it’s your job but they’re the Waynes they should be the only table you attend to tonight. That good for nothing manager who cares far too much about their opinion can’t even get that one thing right. “You got that right, and with how the night’s going I bet they’ll only check on us two times, three if we’re lucky” Tim’s voice piss’s Damian off even more, even if it is in agreement. “You don’t actually mean that” Dick pipes in,his voice radiating a sense of distress. “Of course I do, look at them. barely keeping it together” Tim points out. It’s true the tension in your shoulders is evident and your mask is already slipping, the worst part there’s almost nothing they can do besides tip you. Although even that doesn’t feel like enough. The server’s here tip out not only to the hostesses and busboys but also to the back, additionally you all have to pool your tips and split them evenly amongst the staff. This fact does nothing but motivate the Waynes to get you out of here as soon as possible.

23 minutes tick by, as the Wayne family watches you talk to other customers, complete your side work, and narrowly avoid another scolding from that damn manager. It bothers them that Tim was right, accepting that tonight is just an evening of observing you rather than growing slightly closer. It's moments like these that makes Bruce wish his name wasn’t as influential as it is. Thankfully you approach them once again with their meals. Although, the stress on your face is more prominent than earlier, the smile is even more forced, with the way you carry yourself you’re clearly being pushed to the limits. “Here you all go” even your voice sounds so much more tired, compared to when you were greeting them. At least you got their order right, not that any of them would say anything if you didn’t. “Anything else I can grab you?” You ask, so considerate they really should be the ones taking care of you, but all in due time. “I believe we’ll be alright” Bruce replies, not wanting you to strain yourself even more.

Only approaching them once as they ate, only to ask them if everything was to their liking. They knew it was protocol to ask each table that question, but they still wished you’d approach them, and initiate a conversation about anything but the food. As they ate in silence it’s clear tonight they didn’t make as much progress as they’d like. Maybe Bruce should have kept these outings to himself for a little longer. Or perhaps they should go on a day Jacques is the manager, he tends to be somewhat more lenient. Whatever the case may be this evening has been bittersweet for the entire family, and they’ll plan accordingly for next week to make up for the lost progress. Because that’s what family does for each other, they go above and beyond.

Next

[whimsybats]

Task Force 141 x Batmom!Reader (Pt. 1?)

crossover AU

platonic Task Force 141 x batmom!reader x batfam

Bruce Wayne x Reader

(this is my first time writing headcanons on here or anywhere so I'm so sorry if it sucks LOL I might be adding more parts to this later/making it a series of headcanons? I need to get used to writing characters and their personalities, any tips would be appreciated!)

Batmom!Reader who was brought into the events of MW1 under Laswell's command.

I'd imagine she'd have become a Lieutenant. Prior to the events of MW1 she might've worked with Ghost a few times.

She assisted Gaz and Price in Piccadilly. With her medical skills and tactics she made an impression on both of them securing her place in 141 as the resident medic.

Her alias is up to you! (ex; Soap, Ghost, Gaz etc.)

I'd imagine she met Bruce pre-robin era after Piccadilly and assisted with an evacuation while he was Batman, despite his multiple attempts to get her out as well.

He then likely looked her up on the computer in the Batcave, intrigued. Bruce noticed her military background, seeing her involvement with Piccadilly among other events in her career, it made sense.

"Lieutenant (L/N)..." Bruce eyed the computer in interest.

"Another one of your... projects Master Bruce?"

"Something like that I guess."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Eventually you met as Bruce and (Y/n) and had gotten married along the way with having adopted your kids.

When you found out Bruce was Batman, you weren't too shocked, seeing as one of your teammates literally code name is Ghost and also dresses... in a similar scary fashion.

One by one he met your team. They each took their turns interrogating him, Price and Ghost the most. They had to make sure he treated their teammate well after all.

Alfred and Price got along well, likely bonding over their shared paternal figure roles and SAS backgrounds.

Soap and Gaz likely bond well with Dick and Jason.

I'm fairly certain Stephanie and Soap would make a great duo. They would so play pranks around the manor, one time they messed with Ghost maybe messing with his gear like his mask or something (maybe making it something cute instead of scary idk LOL) and he couldn't find his backup, so he had to go around in some cute cat balaclava or something.

Ghost might give them some jump scares once in a while, maybe standing in the corner like Drax when they realize some of their equipment is jammed only giving them a eerie smile under his mask and leaving them to figure out some of their own equipment was replaced with water guns or something.

You might end up having to defuse potential fights between Ghost and Bruce reminding you of Bruce's old fights with Jason.

Speaking of Jason... he and Kyle might try to "one up" each other but neither thinking that anything can really beat being revived straight from a Lazarus Pit.

"Ever fallen out of a helicopter... twice?" Gaz smirked.

"Nah, but you ever try dying?" Jason asked in response earning widened eyes from Gaz.

"You serious mate?"

"More than I'd like to admit," he shrugged, "but hey, more to hold over B's head the better."

"Bloody hell... Gotham is insane."

"Takes one to know one, or something like that."

---

Okay so we know Ghost likes to throw in an occasional joke but imagine he'd pull one in front of your kids.

"What do you call a soldier who loves to paint?" he asked Damian who simply looked up at him and glared with Jason right behind him.

"An art-illery master," queue the complaining from Jason and an eye twitch from Damian.

Bruce often gets more stressed whenever you're on the field, somehow he always finds a way to sneak into the comms and make sure your okay on a private line.

"Bruce I'm fine," you grunted as you took down an enemy, "let me speak to my damn Captain."

"...No."

"B..." you sighed, "I'll make sure this mission is done as quick as possible. Just go take care of the kids for me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I love you- now give me back my line to Price."

He mutters a "love you too" before cutting the line.

"What the hell was that Lieutenant?" Price asked on a private line with you and 141.

"My dumb husband," you rolled your eyes. (This would likely be when they know Bruce is Batman to avoid confusion)

Soap would whistle on the comms "Someone misses their missus huh?"

"Don't push it Johnny."

----

tag list: @otterluver05 @sad-girl09

please feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged for any upcoming fics related to this crossover!

[gilverrwrites]

Summer Loving

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Roy, & Tim.

AN: Have a lot of lengthy and/or smutty wips on the go atm and I can feel them bogging me down a bit, so I decided to take a break and work on some short summer themed slice of life/domestic fluff to cleanse my palate. I feel I must apologise for my gratuitous and obvious Roy Harper thirst but I wont, enjoy!

CWs: Some are more suggestive than others, reader discretion advised. Minor swearing and minors swearing, mentions of alcohol. GN! Reader

Bruce: Tan Lines

It’s moments like these where you wish Bruce didn’t have to spend his nights on the endless pursuit of justice. You knew what you’d signed up for, but you’d missed him all day and god, the feel of his strong fingers massaging after sun into your skin was euphoric. Would you be such a bad guy for trying to convince him to stay home?

“I like this.” His hum pulls you from your train of thought, and you look down to see his fingers trailing against the tan line your shorts had caused. He spares you a quick suggestive glance, the look a wolf might give a rabbit it’s particularly fond of before dipping down to replace his hands with his mouth.

“Ohhh, stay home tonight Brucie?” The look he gives you this time maintains its warmth but there’s an air of warning to it. Despite his simmering combativeness, you add a charming “Please?”

To that he lifts his head, just far enough to deny you of his lips, but close enough that his low voice still seems to reverberate through your body as he speaks. “Crime doesn’t take the night off, neither can I.”

“I know.” You sigh, admitting defeat before the battle has even begun, and he rewards you by assuming his barrage of kisses to your lower body.

“Just don’t go out too early.” You advise, trailing the tip of your finger from ear to ear, estimating the line where his Batman cowl ends. “Don’t want to get any tan lines of your own.”

“Trust me.” There’s humour in his tone now as he works his way upwards, ghosting his 5 o'clock shadow along the skin of your stomach as he prowls closer. “The evening is young, and I have plans for you yet.”

Dick: A/C

The A/C is broken. Again. To combat the heat the whole household has resorted to wearing nothing but their underwear, except of course for Haley who is always naked. Lucky dog.

Additionally, all the windows are open in an attempt to let the cool night air circulate the humid apartment but all it’s really doing is letting in the ambient sound of Blüdhavens boisterous nightlife and countless flies.

“Want one?” Dick asks from the kitchen spaces as he digs into his second ice pop since dinner, you joke about envying his metabolism despite knowing damn well that’s not the real reason for his physique. Although between the food and the heat-induced skipped workout, he’s bloating, just a little bit; the tiniest, most delicious bit of plumpness and you can’t take your eyes off of it. “Are you checking me out?”

“Always.” You reply with a brazen smile, continuing your laser-focused stare even as he begins approaching your spot on the couch.

“How about you stop looking and start touching, huh baby?”

“No.” You finally cease your objectification of his stomach to look him in the eyes. The intended sternness in your tone is stifled by the way his icy confection has turned his lips blue. “I already told you, no sex in this heat until the air con is fixed.”

Despite your posturing, you don’t fight his closing proximity, nor do you stop him from dragging his cool-raspberry-stained tongue along the length of your throat, it’s still cold from the half-eaten lolly and the sensation sends a welcome chill through your body. As inefficient as it may be, you much prefer this method of cooling down to an A/C.

Jason: Sunrise

The metal grate of your fire escape is surprisingly cool against your bare feet. It’s early, pre-sunrise early but the air is still thick, a combination of the arid summer heat and steam of the cities underground. Despite the unpleasant temperature, you settle onto the grill, with nothing but a pillow for comfort and two ice-cold glasses of lemonade.   

When 15 minutes pass, and you start to notice a growing tinge of orangeness in the sky, you start to worry you’re being stood up, or worse; something awful has happened. Something that would prevent him from coming home, but then you hear it; The heavy steps of Jason’s steel-toed boots approaching from your apartment’s rooftop.

You glance up just in time to see him dropping down. A loud clang rings out as he hits the floor, causing the whole structure to vibrate and you wonder if he does that every night, surely not, there’s no way you could sleep through it or that your neighbours wouldn’t complain.

“Aren’t you sweating balls?” You ask, taking in his gear as he sits down beside you. The boots, the cargo pants, turtleneck, jacket, gloves, and the full-face mask.

“Nah.” His voice is muffled by the headpiece until he takes it off, shaking his head to support his answer. “It’s weird but I’ve kinda run cold ever since I died, you know?”

Obviously you don’t know, in fact having felt his searing, naked skin pressed to yours on multiple occasions, you highly doubt him, but you nod regardless and hand him his drink. Unlike a man on the chilly side, he chugs half of the icy drink in one go and you wonder if he’ll ever stop jumping from buildings and telling white lies to impress you.

“Want some help warming up?” Before he can respond you lean up, brushing your nose against his and watching as his lids flutter closed in anticipation, his breath is cool on your lips and when you finally press into them you can taste nothing but the tartness of the lemonade. Regardless, it’s heavenly; soft and tender. Every kiss with Jason makes your heart flutter in the same way it had the first time.

When he pulls away you chase after him, eyes only opening to meet his heterochromatic irises when your pursuit for more becomes an abundant failure.

He’s grinning as he tells you; “We’re missing the sunrise.”

“I don’t care.” You answer, trying again, and this time succeeding in drawing him in for another kiss.

Roy: Paddling Pool

If ever anybody asked you to describe a moment of pure domestic bliss, this moment would be a strong contender. Your lower body is submerged in a paddling pool as you bask in the sun, enjoying the occasional splash of water caused by Lian’s uncoordinated but enthusiastic dancing beside you. She too is basking, but hers is under an endless stream of hose water being directed by her father; Roy, who is watching the two of you from a sun lounger, hosepipe in one hand and a non-alcoholic beer in the other.

He's quite the vision, no shoes, no shirt, just tastefully tacky swim trunks and his iconically worn-out grey baseball cap that may be protecting his head, but is doing little to tame his mop of fiery hair. From this angle, you’ve got a great shot of some of his lesser-seen tattoos, but every time you look over at him you find yourself far more smitten with the countless freckles that adorn his chest and shoulders, made darker and more noticeable by the recent heatwave.   

“How’s the Heineken?” You ask, genuinely curious how he’s enjoying his first taste of alcohol-free booze.

“Crap.” He replies, lips briefly curving into a self-amused smirk before dropping to woefully panicked as you both turn to look at Lian. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have been listening in, content in her own toddler babblings. Relieved, he turns his attention back to you and corrects himself. “Um, not good babe.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” You offer your condolences, but he seems completely unbothered.

Instead, he turns the glass bottle around in his hands a few times before chucking it over his shoulder. It sails through the air before seamlessly landing in the open bin by your backdoor. Your concern about it leaking into the rest of the recycling is seconded by how impressed you are. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times his trick-shot hit, you’re always at least a little bit captivated by his impeccable aim.    

“It’s cool, hon.” He shrugs and leans back into the lounger. His eyes flicker back and forth between you and his child, a slow, contented smile spreading across his face. “Got everything I need right here.”  

Bonus:

Hours later, you’re sorting through the soggy contents of the recycling as Roy scoops Lian up in his arms and takes her sleepy frame inside. The sun is still high and bright, but it’s past her bedtime, and it’s been a long, exciting day for her. He dries her with the softest towel he can find, careful to pat down every pruned finger and toe before putting her to bed.

“How was your day, sweetie?” He asks, strong fingers petting her soft hair to help soothe her to sleep.

“Crap!”   

Tim: Ice Cream

Tim is still sleeping off a rough, muggy night of crime fighting as you circumnavigate the boat's sad excuse for a kitchen. The bags under his eyes had been growing darker each day under the stress of hunting down a mysterious new bank robber. You’d hoped to lift his spirits by surprising him with a tub of homemade ice cream, but so far all you’d managed to make is a mess.

After having a falling out with the thrifted ice cream maker you’d stuffed in the back of a cupboard months ago, you settled for hand mixing. By the time you put the concoction in the freezer to set, your wrists are aching, and Tim has begun to stir. You’re just finishing up the dishes you’d created when he finally emerges from the bedroom in shorts, flip-flops, and a not-so-summer-appropriate hoodie.

Before you can offer a ‘good morning, Timmybear’ his arms are around your waist, pulling you close from behind and settling the weight of his sleepy head on your shoulder.

“What’s this?” He asks and then he’s licking what you can only assume is a stray splash of the mixture from your cheek with the bravery only a man raised by Batman could possess. It could have been literally anything. “Banana?”

“Chunky monkey actually.” Goddamn. Surprise ruined in less than a minute. Oh well, at least you can give him something to look forward to. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get ice cream without you, I made it for you.”

“I figured.” He hums, sounding so very drowsy despite the ease with which he manoeuvres your body against the kitchen counter so he can keep you close while brewing his morning tea, occasionally planting soft kisses to the side of your neck as his hands move absentmindedly. “You’re the best, you know that? Can’t wait to try it.”

“You figured? How did you figure?” You skip right past the justified praise; he’d been practically comatose since 4 AM, how could he have figured?

“It’s on the ceiling.” He’s right, you look up to see a cream-soaked walnut lodged above you and let out a dramatic sigh as you fall deeper into Tim's arms.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

[jaythes1mp]

I was wondering how you think readers life would be different if they were a puppy hybrid instead of a cat? I had a dream about this last night after I reread your works

You had a dream abt it after my fic?🫢🥹💚

The dynamics between the reader and the family would noticeably change if the reader took on more canine traits rather than feline. The bat’s would likely respond differently, as canine behaviors and characteristics can vary significantly from those associated with cats. The reader's dog-like nature could shape how the family interacts with and cares for them, adding a different layer to their relationships and potentially influencing the family's behaviour. They’d expect more from you.

The nature of a dog is typically more sociable and dependent, leading to different expectations and interactions.

So if you don't immediately respond to their affections by showing signs of eagerness, like a happy, loving puppy would, the family would interpret your behaviour as abnormal. They might worry that something is wrong with you, as canine behaviour typically involves being sociable and receptive to affection.

They'd expect you to enjoy being petted, as dogs often crave human touch and attention.

You’d promptly be sent out on your way to a vet. Because, something must be the matter with you. It could never be their faults. They'd assume that the issue lies within you rather than considering the possibility that they might be the source of the problem.

In contrast to their care for Kitten Reader, they'd be more inclined to allow Puppy Reader to spend time in human form. This is because it's easier for them to monitor and assess your mental state when you're in human form. As they find it less challenging to gauge your emotions, well-being, and mental state when you're human if you’re completely unreceptive as a pup.

For a kitten it’s natural to be less receptive to affection, batting at their hands or hissing when they get too close. But it’s completely abnormal for a pup. You’re supposed to seek out their touch, not flinch from it.

So they need to nip your behaviour in the bud.

Damian, being the meticulous and dedicated individual that he is, will take it upon himself to arrange online training sessions with the most skilled and highly regarded trainers available. He believes that you ought to behave in a manner that befits your canine nature and will take great care in selecting trainers who can help you learn and adapt accordingly.

He will diligently oversee your progress, taking notes on your behavior and ensuring that you receive the necessary guidance.

Dick, being the “loving and dedicated older brother” that he likes to call himself, will dive into a thorough online research session to discover the best ways to force have you to be affectionate with him. His search queries including phrases like "How to get your dog to like you," "How to create a bond with your new puppy," and "How to make a puppy love you instantly." He’ll immerse himself in articles, videos, and guides that provide tips and techniques to form a deep and affectionate connection with you.

This ends up resulting with every time you manage to do literally anything besides growling at him, whether it be making eye contact, sitting, or even just existing in his presence, you’re immediately rewarded with a dog biscuit as an incentive.

Jason, with his rugged exterior and rough edges, is the type to carry you, no matter how large your fluffy canine physique, in a practical doggy bag. While he may appear tough on the outside, he has a deep attachment to you in your puppy form, as in some underlying level he sees himself in you.

Especially if you have any visible scars that can’t be concealed in your canine form, he might find an even stronger affinity towards you, mirroring his own experiences in a strange yet comforting way.

Tim, being the methodical and detail-oriented individual, he is, would design an unnecessarily intricate and ultra-luxurious dog pen for you indoors. This pen would be thoughtfully equipped with every amenity and comfort appropriate for your puppy needs. However, he's also pragmatic and meticulous, and would ensure that appropriate measures were in place to lock you up if you needed disciplining for misbehavior, demonstrating his keen attention to both your comfort and safety.

Tim's favorite creation thus far for you is the collar fused to your skin in a way that causes no discomfort when you transform from one form to another. It relays live data to the Bat-computer and a specially designed app installed on each family member's phone. The collar monitors everything you consume, tracks your whereabouts, keeps tabs on your vitals, and records your voice continuously for 24 hours. Moreover, it also picks up on any intense emotions you're experiencing, providing the family with a comprehensive understanding of your canine state of mind at all times.

The collar is discreetly designed to blend in, looking just like any ordinary dog collar one would purchase at a pet store, except perhaps a bit more posh and expensive. However, the back of the collar is adorned with a beautiful tag bearing all the family members’ contact details.

Other features are installed to keep you in line. A built-in shocker to administer a warning shock in case of any misbehaving behavior. After all, a little shock can go a long way in shaping a puppy's behavior. The collar is also equipped with a feature that bypasses the need for conscious thought to shift between your human and puppy form. It sends signals directly to your brain, creating a sort of mental “shortcut” to seamlessly transform between states. It takes much of the guesswork out of transforming, streamlining the process and making it effortless, forcing you to shift and taking away your ability to choose with a click of a button.

Bruce, being the overprotective father figure that he wishes to be, would be disheartened with the limitations placed on him. He’d long to take you to the grocery store, show you off to his co-workers, or even simply take walks around the park in his neighborhood. However, the others would be quick to point out that your canine form might attract unwanted public attention, and the less people knew about your existence, the better it would be for everyone’s security.

Like, What the fuck do you mean he can’t take his purebred puppy inside this fine dining establishment?? He’s a billionaire. Make the exception before he has your whole restaurant shut down and each of your employees knee-deep in debt by the end of the day.

Link to official chapter

Like to previous cat reader

I’m so tired… really hope you liked this, anon.