#and when you just make it. that batman has to physically save him from his parents bc they suck or whatever....

[dcxdpdabbles]

Do you mind updating Alfred's boy? I just fell in love with your work and can't stop thinking about it lololol especially with Wes and Danny crushing on Jason as everyone else is crushing on Danny

It's the most complicated love shape I've seen since Miraculous and I can't get enough 💖

Bruce is working on some late-night emails.

He chose not to go out as Batman tonight just because his kids had a lot of pent-up energy they needed to release on some unsuspecting crook, and he got behind in his civilian persona.

Bruce also wanted to keep an eye on Wes and Danny. The day after the Opera, Danny took it upon himself to take Wes out into the city again, showing him not only Batburger but also the city's sights and arcade.

Alfred booked them both an entire afternoon in Gotham's most luxurious spa as a gift for Danny's hard work. When Danny and Wes came back, both seemed to be glowing and frankly, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if they had turned heads on their way home.

Danny made his children break their necks when he walked by the family room with a laughing Wes. After spotting Danny in a very uncharacteristic move, Damian even walked into the living room wall.

Jason had laughed so hard he choked on his spit. It took every year of training for Bruce to catch Damian mid-jump to save Jason from his younger brother's worth.

It was only the knowledge that Wes was a civilian staying in the manor and that if he saw them in a fight, their covers would be blown, stopping Damian from attacking Jason further.

Bruce was getting tired of this romance novel setting he found himself in. His children haven't stressed him out this much in years. Okay, that's a lie.

They always stressed him out, but usually, it was due to them making a stance against crime. Not a random young man who was dating (secretly) the object of their affection.

Wesley Weston was a delightful young man despite everything. Bruce would almost approve of him if it weren't for the fact that he seemed aware of the Wayne children's hostility and edged it on by being extra cuddly with Danny.

He was delighted for Danny to have a friend who had been making him this happy, but all good things must end. This would be Wes's last night in Wayne Manor.

Tomorrow, Wes will board a plane back through Clockwork's unique gate and be gone from their lives until he can visit again. That could take a while, as Alfred had informed him that Danny's parents were becoming a nuisance.

That could mean any number of things, but the most obvious was that Danny's location needed to stay hidden. No one could contact him from his home.

Bruce sighs, wondering how the boy will handle the news. Alfred chose to wait until Wes was out of the manor so his charge would not break down in front of his friend. It would mean the world to Danny, who closely held his emotions to his chest.

A knock interrupts his thoughts.

"Come in," Bruce calls, wondering who it could be. He is surprised to see a shy redhead pop his head in. "Wes, what are you doing up this late?"

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Wayne. I couldn't sleep," Wes says, scruffing his feet on the carpet. He takes a moment to gather his strength, then straightens out his back. Bruce braces himself, feeling he won't like what the boy has to say. "I wanted to talk to you about assigning Danny a medical cuddle buddy."

Bruce blinks, feeling well out of his depth. Was that new teen lingo? "A medical cuddle Buddy?"

"It's like an emotional support animal." Wes starts, gesturing with his hands in a flip-flap sort of motion. Bruce noticed Danny tended to do the same when making an explanation. A culture thing? "His emotional, mental, and even physical well-being plummets when he goes too long without cuddling."

Bruce had concluded the same.

Over the last two days, he noticed that Danny had seemed far happier than the weeks he had been in the Manor. At first, he just assumed it was because he finally had someone who understood what he was going through. But now it was clear that it wasn't just the excitement of having Wes around. Danny looked as if he was healing from a long-term lack of nutrition.

It was not a lack of food, as Alfred would never allow anyone to go hungry under his roof.

There had to be something else.

"Danny isn't human," he ventures, watching Wes' body language. At once, the boy tensed up, a dark look in his eye and a precise curl of his lip indicating protective intensity. Bruce closes his laptop, curls his finger under his chin, and leans on them, giving his full attention. "I have no issues with Danny being anything other than human. But I need to know what I have to provide him to keep him healthy."

We hesitated for a long moment, staring back at Bruce like he was weighing the billionaire's soul. His intense eyes bore into Bruce's, flickering around his face as if trying to find a lie in his statement.

Eventually, the boy hesitantly responds. "Danny is part human. The other half is a being that relies on certain emotions to feed. The most common one is fear, which is why his parents tried to kill him when they found out his kind. Fear-based beings are...dangerous, so it was understandable even if it sucked."

Wes's face twists into a hateful and sad expression that lets Bruce know the kids are attempting to rationalize Danny's parents' behavior. He would make sure to tell Alfred not to allow the boy any contact with them. They held too much power over the kid.

"Danny isn't a fear-based than," Bruce prompts, to which Wes rapidly shakes his head.

"He isn't! Danny is....well, he's love-based. He feeds on different versions of love. Have you heard of the eight ancient Greeks' type of love?"

"I have"

Wes rubs his arm, looking relatively young for his age. "Danny feeds on Agape and Philia the most. He used to feed a lot on Storge, but well...you know how that turned out."

He did, indeed.

Does this mean Danny had already been cut off from a significant food source his people needed? Did it also mean that Danny wasn't the Fenton's by blood? How could they not know he was half of another being?

He needed answers to all the questions, but the most important one still resurfaced: "How does Danny feed?"

"Usually through physical contact. Emotions aren't corporal; they are felt through a body like a ripple in the water. When Danny touches someone who shares Agape or Philia with him, the ripples transfer from the contact to his core." Wes explained looking mroe sure of himself. "When I first arrived, Danny looked half-starved. He would have collapsed had it not been for Clockwork sending me."

That's alarming. "What could have happened if he went too long without any love?"

"His core would explode."

"And a core is?"

"Think of it like Danny's heart. It pumps his body with the energy his people need to survive. If it fails, Danny dies."

The last sentence hangs in the room like poisonous gas. Bruce feels his chest squeez at the mere thought that Danny would pass from soemthing they could easily provide for him. "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

Wes cracks a shaky smile. "I figure you wouldn't. You seem like an okay guy. Can you make sure none of the ones feeling Eros towards Danny are his cuddle-buddy? I don't think his heart is ready for that just yet."

"Of course." Bruce was thinking of Alfred, Cass, Dick, Jason, and himself. All of them would quickly provide the emotion Danny needed. He tells Wes this with what he hopes is an assuring smile.

Wes shuffles his feet nervously before he yells, "Not Jason."

"Why?" Bruce asks, mystified.

"Danny might...um, have a crush on him." The boy mutters almost too low for Bruce to hear. He then glances up with a look of panic. "You can't tell Danny I told you!"

Bruce feels a headache coming on. Of course, out of all the children who had a thing for Danny, the boy chose one of the few of his kids who did not feel the same way. Knowing his son, Jason would probably think it was flattering but would gently let the boy down due to his age.

Jason refused to date anyone outside of a four-year difference from him in any direction. Danny was in for a painful confession.

Wait.

"Wes, what would happen if Danny experienced heartbreak? How does that affect his people?"

Wes blinks, confused, before shrugging. "I guess they die of heartbreak?"

Great.

I'm going to have to make Danny stay away from my second eldest like another stereotypical villain in Jason's romance novels. Bruce rubs his eyes. Or get him together with one of the others who actually likes him. Ugh.

He'll have to discuss things with Alfred. After all, that was his boy.

[myerssimp21]

Tim Drake, Aphrodisiac Victim (YAN!Pt.1)

Romantic!Yandere!Batfam x fem reader. Part 1 Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

It’s easy for him to excuse it, easy for Tim Drake to pretend like he hadn’t intentionally fumbled the latest conflict with Poison Ivy. He could have done more to stop her, but when he discovered her plan and spent days pouring over the ingredients in her new concoction, the holistic quality of her potion calmed his nerves and quieted the anxious parts of him that screamed he would get caught. Ivy was known for several atrocities in Gotham, but she didn’t usually act as aggressively as Scarecrow or Joker with her toxins.

So when Tim Drake definitively concluded her newest potion wouldn’t have any adverse health effects, he was slower than he should have been when she whipped out the perfume bottle and sprayed it at him.

He’d been expecting this; what he hadn’t expected was Bruce yanking him backwards in an attempt to save him from the mist. The Batclaw shot out, aiming for the bottle in her hands but failing to retrieve it halfway through the delivery, the glass shattering on the ground and splashing all over the Bat and Tim Drake.

There had been dizzying action, and then only silence for a moment. Ivy had a shit-eating smile creeping onto her face as she began backing away, keeping her eyes on the two men trying to catch their breath.

“Gentlemen, it looks like you have the night off,” she said with a giggle as she continued to retreat, eyeing her escape route, “maybe make plans?”

“Pamela,” The Bat growls in a dark tone, his anger barely contained over how their mission had gone so wrong, “Give me the antidote.”

She turns to run away and he lunges forward to grab her before his knees buckle under him and he collapses to the ground, catching his balance and hearing her scurry off.

“Batman,” Tim says, feeling the weight of consequences of his actions as he feels his crotch begin tingling, “she doesn’t have one. I checked.”

The silence is palpable as Bruce evens out his breathing and pushes off the ground, using a nearby wall to steady himself, “We need to get to the Batmobile before it sets in.”

Tim shudders as Bruce places a giant hand on his shoulder, concerned both at how hard the big man is taking the dose and at how good the physical contact feels in this state. He hopes Bruce doesn’t feel pleasure at the slightest touch like he does; he’s frustrated since it was supposed to be just him.

Tim Drake was supposed to receive an accidental dose of Ivy’s new aphrodisiac. Tim Drake was supposed to stop by their darling’s apartment afterwards to relieve the strain in his crotch and the desire in his heart. It was supposed to be the best porno he’d ever see; getting the best angles for the cameras discreetly set up at her place earlier that month to rewatch later.

He knew Bruce was smart and Tim only hoped to earn forgiveness for this by making the best home film with you. He also knew Dick, Jason, and Damian would be grouchy he’d gotten to you first and it was entirely possible he’d get just decimated by your lack of interest altogether. Even though you and Tim had become close over the past couple semesters, he could tell you were reserved at times, just anxious or uneasy enough to pull away before anything with lasting complications happened.

The Batmobile had an autopilot feature which Bruce immediately enacted, setting a course for the Batcave. Wordlessly, Tim adds their darling’s apartment complex in as a stop, trying to not get shaky at the thought of getting laid in this state. It’s so easy to add it; all he has to do is press it from the list of saved priority locations in the portal.

“I had my suspicions,” Batman murmurs as he closes his eyes and lays against the headrest, trying to control the sensations in his body, “you wouldn’t have gotten sprayed at that range unless you wanted to.”

Tim says it before he can think in misplaced irritation, “Then why’d you get in the way?”

It’s embarrassing the moment he says it and Bruce says nothing in response, letting the silence sour in the air to make a point.

“What are you going to do?” Tim asks him, too aware of the growing urge to sink his dick into a warm, wet hole. The urge is going to be hard to wrangle enough to talk to her, let alone look normal enough to seem like a regular hook-up.

“I’ll manage,” is all Bruce says, and Tim hopes that means he’ll call Catwoman as soon as he leaves; he suddenly doesn’t like the idea of everyone tuning in at once to the live camera feeds as he tries his hand at seducing you. It feels like lots of pressure, and while Tim Drake is usually phenomenal at working under pressure, he doesn’t want to get rejected in 4k.

Bruce grips the steering wheel tight when the tingles begin in his crotch, trying to distract himself, “I have a change of clothes under your seat. Change before we get to her place.”

~

Bruce makes the call while he can, letting Damian know he and Tim were not going to be able to finish their patrol shift. Damian sounds unimpressed when he asks why and Bruce doesn’t answer him, hanging up.

Bruce goes to voicemail when he calls Jason, and his jaw clenches in irritation. He knows Jason holds more resentment towards him and might murder some criminals if made to do patrol on a night he’s supposed to have off, but Bruce can’t let Damian do patrol alone in the big city yet. He’s also a little concerned that Jason might murder Tim if he hears him with you, so getting him out on patrol is better for everyone.

After calling Jason two more times, Bruce gives up and calls Damian back, telling him he’d send Grayson over. Ever efficient, Damian is already dressed as Robin on the Batmobile’s call screen, his eyes narrowing in his domino mask.

"Father, your demeanor suggests trouble. What went wrong with Drake during the patrol?"

"It's nothing, Damian. Just a minor setback. We handled it."

"Minor setbacks don't usually disrupt patrol schedules. What are you hiding, Father?"

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," Bruce says, ignoring Damian's rude interrogation, "Make sure to stop by the GCPD to follow up with Jack Ryder on-" Bruce's voice falters as he struggles to remember what the story is; his crotch begins throbbing uncomfortably and he feels like the heat is spreading up his torso with each beat of his heart.

"On those cryptic messages left in the GCPD mailbox," Tim finishes for Bruce, leaning in to fit in the camera lens so Damian can see him too. Damian rolls his eyes.

"Your knack for evasion is quite the talent, Father. Maybe it's worth pondering why you choose partners if transparency isn't part of the deal."

With this scathingly cold delivery, Damian ends the call on a sour note. Tim would check with Bruce but their darling lives on the street they just turned down and his heartbeat has begun violently thudding in his chest and in his dick.

"Tim," Batman says firmly before Tim leaves the Batmobile, "stay in control. Scaring her off is not an option."

Tim's trying to not be sensitive about it because after all, it makes sense; if he comes off too strong and scares her, not only is he fucked immediately with Ivy's aphrodisiac coursing through his veins, but he will complicate things for the whole Wayne family. The other part of him, the part being drugged by Ivy's potion wants to whine in protest. How is he supposed to exercise control!? He'd never force himself on her but he doesn't doubt he might pass out if he doesn't find relief soon. As he exits the Batmobile with her apartment building in front of him, he just prays Jason is asleep and doesn't cockblock him.

You weren’t asleep yet. At 10 PM, you were drawing in bed, pausing at different parts in the pornographic video you were watching to practice drawing bodies. You couldn’t deny this way of practicing wasn’t tempting you to turn the lights off and rub one out with one of your vibrators though. They were recently charged, after all.

Not wanting to stop drawing quite yet but wanting the desire to build, you turn up the volume of the tv and make an effort to not pause as much. It felt good to feel a building arousal in your body and know you could use your toy as many times as you liked. It had already been about twenty minutes of you rotating out on your favorite pornography and hentai tags, working your brain up to arousal under the guise of practicing art. It honestly didn’t take much to get you feeling hot; growing sexual tension in your personal life made it easy to tap into. Maybe it was just that it never left your mind in the first place, and your mind wandered as your fingers snuck under the waistband of your shorts.

You thought of the recent weird vibes between you and Tim, the boy in your humanities course you sat near who was also in your social work course. You’d exchanged numbers early in the semester and at this point you’d met up for study sessions more than once. He’d always been a little flirtatious but you thought he was joking until he had leaned in the other day, hand finding purchase on your thigh as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, you know that?”

It was so generic you would have chuckled or rolled your eyes but the way he said it made goosebumps raise on your skin instead. His eyes were locked on yours and the sober intensity in them was not something you had prepared for, leaning away from him in sudden awkwardness even when you felt your cheeks burning.

Still, the thought of how he looked at you made you shudder when your finger brushed against your clit and your mind raced on.

Then there was your next-door neighbor, Jason. Tall and broad-shouldered, there's a casual confidence in the way he moves. His piercing blue eyes seem to twinkle with amusement whenever you shyly chat with him, like he's in on some secret joke. The black cat always at his heels chirps happily on his little patio table when you two chat, purring loudly and head-butting Jason at any given opportunity. Always, Jason makes his appearance shirtless, his eyes laughing louder at you every time you feel your face flush when he says something questionably flirtatious towards you. It's one thing to playfully flirt, but to do so while ripped and shirtless? How was your ability to articulate yourself around him supposed to have a chance?

You try not to look and act unflustered every time, but once your eyes lingered and you noticed scar tissue all over his torso, unable to tear yourself away from the sight. You'd apologized when he jokingly said you'd better take a picture, since you didn't want to seem rude checking out his scars and felt silly for getting caught staring.

"They come with a price, always," Jason remarked cryptically, suddenly making intense eye contact.

"Your scars?" You asked, afraid to say the wrong thing due to your social anxieties but leaning towards him from your bannister.

"No, my pictures" he replied with a smirk, his eyes twinkling mischievously while Alfred the cat chirped at his ankles again. Jason leaned across his bannister too, "But I've always believed in getting to know my neighbors. I think you and I could take that to a whole new level, don't you?"

"I-I think... that could be...nice," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Getting to know you better, I mean." You had looked away while trying to choke out these words, gathering your courage before meeting his gaze again. "I'm curious about you.. So maybe we could... explore each other sometime."

His eyes widened, his expression betraying a hint of genuine disbelief. A faint blush quickly dusted his cheeks, mirroring the warmth you felt spreading through you at his suggestion.

"Wow," he said, his voice laced with surprise and breathier than normal, "I wasn't expecting that, but... I like where you're going with this." The tone of admiration had given you chills at the time, praise kink activating at the new way he was regarding you. "I’m curious about you too, you know. Let's see just how close we can really get."

His reaction left you feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness, but you couldn't help but smile at his response. You hadn't seen him since then, a couple days ago, and you hoped your conversation would amount to something delicious one day if it was meant to be.

As you reminisced about Tim's intense words and Jason's forward suggestions, your fingers gravitated towards your clit, applying firm pressure as they glided up and down your labia before slowly easing into your pussy. You opted for two fingers, relishing the sensation of fullness they provided compared to just one. They pressed deeply inside you, and you squeezed around them exploratively, reveling in the feeling.

After relishing the fullness of your fingers, you pumped them a few times, a low moan escaping your lips at the intense sensation. Your eyes scrunched shut tightly as you imagined Tim's hand from the other day—how it had come to rest on your thigh, the way it had firmly gripped at you, igniting a desire to jump at the touch.

You visualized him inching closer to the point of no return, sliding his hand into your underwear, and letting his fingers work their magic right there as you both sat with your homework in front of you. Just moments ago, you would have been innocently reviewing new terms together, but then the thought of his touch would be obscenely irresistible. You pictured yourself moving your hips, eagerly responding to his touch and allowing yourself to make all the noises you had always been too nervous to make with others. You imagined he'd get antsy to fuck you after hearing the squelching of your pussy on his fingers. In your mind's eye, he would just barely find the self-control to pull his cock out from his pants before burying his length desperately as far deep as it could go in you.

As you finally reached for the vibrators kept next to the bed, the abrupt sound of knocking at the door shattered your session. Startled, you jumped up, hastily yanking your shorts back up and rushing to wash your hands.

With no peephole on your apartment door, you felt a twinge of unease as you hurried to answer it. When you pulled the door open, the sight of Tim standing there caught you off guard.

"Hey... uh, sorry to just show up unannounced like this," Tim begins, his voice slightly breathless. "I, uh, I needed to talk to you about something important."

He shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress the nervous energy coursing through him. "I know it's kind of out of the blue, but... can I come in? It won't take long, I promise."

Tim's words come out rushed, his cheeks flushed with a mix of urgency and embarrassment, as he struggles to maintain his composure despite the powerful effects of the aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

Without hesitating, you step aside, allowing Tim to enter. His presence saturates the room, bringing with it an air of tension and anticipation.

"Tim, what's going on? Are you okay?" you asked, your voice tinged with concern and uncertainty as you closed and locked the door behind him.

His eyes met yours with an intensity that made your heart beat just a little faster, unsure of what he was going to tell you.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what I said the other day," Tim began, his words coming out in a rush. "About how you drive me crazy. I... I don't know how to explain it but I felt like I had to come see you."

His confession hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken arousal.

As he stood before you, his usually composed demeanor was replaced by an air of dishevelment. His hair was messier, and his clothes weren't neat like usual. There was a manic energy in his expression, a hint of desperation that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Tim, you seem... different tonight," you remarked cautiously, noting the wild look in his eyes.

"I couldn't wait any longer," he confessed, his voice emotional, "I needed to see you. I needed to be with you tonight more than anything."

The intensity of his gaze sent your heart racing, a sense of unease creeping over you as you began to comprehend the depth of his interest. Despite the warning bells ringing in your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of something akin to surrender. You longed for him to desire you so intensely that he couldn't wait for a more appropriate time, practically begging you to spend a night with him like a lost puppy.

As Tim stood before you, his agitation evident in every movement, you couldn't ignore the tension in the air. Your gaze inadvertently dropped to the now noticeable bulge in his pants and you're captivated by it, unwilling to look away. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the undeniable evidence of his desire.

"Can you... touch me?" Tim's voice trembled with urgency as he made the request, his tone surprisingly gentle despite the underlying intensity. "You can set the pace, do anything you want, just... please, do something," he added, his words carrying a fervent plea while leaving the decision entirely in your hands.

The tension was thick but you couldn't say you were really surprised at this admission of interest. Regarding the boy in front of you, you pondered the consequences this could lead to. As far as you knew, Tim wasn't a frat boy or someone who could make your life annoying with spreading rumors about the type of girl you were at school. He'd only ever been considerate, kind, and genuine. No girlfriend that you knew of, and he'd definitely be the kind of guy who gushed about his partner if he had one, so you wouldn't be any sort of homewrecker. He always helped you with your homework, to a point where you barely needed to do anything but the minimum whenever he got involved in any of your projects or assignments. This in mind, you decided he deserved a reward.

Leaning in towards him, you place your hands against his cheeks to cup his face. His eyes are wide, the pupils dilated. You thought you heard somewhere that meant someone was in love. Staring into those blown pupils with a mixture of curiosity and arousal, you drew closer.

"Can I kiss you?" You whisper and he nods before you can even get the question out. You kiss him, noticing he seems to freeze up for a moment before kissing you back, pressing against your mouth harder. His tongue swipes against you, but before you let yourselves go any further, you pull away.

"Before things escalate, can we agree to keep it casual, keep us casual? I like what we have."

He seems so antsy, almost breathless, "Absolutely, yeah. I'm all in. No pressure."

Doubting his sincerity since he seems so gone off of whatever is happening to him, you hesitate, "Tim, I'm serious. I don't want you to agree just because of the moment or you're high."

You're staring into those dilated eyes of his in the beat of silence that follows, hoping he's really listening to you.

He looks back into your eyes, the frenzied look a little more under control. "I hear you, I'm on the same page. Friends-with-benefits, I'd love that." Notably, he doesn't deny the speculation of being high.

Nodding at the more clear communication, you went back in for the kiss, now letting his tongue enter and explore your mouth. After getting more clarity from him, you feel less tense and relax into his kiss, feeling his hand come up to touch at your hair as he takes more control of it.

Dropping to your knees when the kiss breathlessly ends, you kiss at his clothed bulge, pawing at it with a hand. Your eyes are fixated on the stricken Tim Drake above you, and he watches in awe as you deeply inhale. You can smell him through his pants and nuzzle your cheek against the bump in them.

Slowly pulling at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers hook on the band and you pull them down till they're bunched at his ankles, hardly taking a breather from your kisses.

"Oh, god," he moans in a strangled voice, "You're so pretty down there."

His praise makes your cheeks begin to burn and your movements get a little more self-conscious, feeling marveled at. Moving your mouth against his bulge in his boxers, you find where the tip should be and roughly suck at it through his underwear. His body shudders, one of his hands fingering through your hair and grabbing it firmly and he hisses, "Play nice."

Feeling good about this now, you moan into his bulge at the choked tone you caused him, pulling his boxers down and kissing on his penis directly now. Lifting it, you craned underneath and kissed at his balls, licking a long strip up from them to the tip and swirling your tongue around his hole at the top. A loud moan tore through Tim and you felt him push his pelvis towards you more, the tip of his penis in your mouth beginning to inch further.

Graciously, you accept his bid, widening your mouth to swallow him completely when he pushes in. He's not terribly big but it's still a little hard to fit him in, the longer length causing it to bump into the back of your throat. He doesn't taste bad considering your previous experiences with oral. It was musty and damp like he'd just worked out, but the faint scent of soap and the neat pubes your nose was buried in told you his hygiene wasn't terrible.

Swirling your tongue with the movement, you experimentally go down on him to gauge his reaction. He moans loudly again and the sound is beautiful to you, doing it again in the hopes he moans nicely again. He does and you fixate your gaze up at him as you take his cock deeply again and his face betrayed how flustered he was, with his cheeks flushed and the look of a madman about him.

He's watching you like he adores you and when you make eye contact, his hips buck into your mouth and he whines, "I knew you'd be gorgeous swallowing my cock, you're taking it so well."

You look up at him in curiosity, so he thought about you like that? He'd pictured this?

"Fuck, I knew it. I knew you'd look beautiful on your knees."

You sense his thighs trembling and your hands come up to press against them, mouth obediently swallowing his cock.

"Oh," he chokes and roughly thrusts deeply, "I'm cumming- it's coming, swallow it all!"

He looks back down at you and then it comes as he moans loudly and crouches to push his cock as far as it will go down your throat, the overwhelming cumshot from the throbbing penis in between your lips threatening to spill out of your mouth. You always hated swallowing cum, and the hot orgasm spurting into your mouth is no exception. You feel your gag reflex threatening to make this night nightmarish but then it ebbs away as you focus on the fact the flow of cum is slowing down, on the fact this particular sensation will go away soon.

You can't lie he sounds and looks delicious otherwise, your eyes focusing on his flustered face that looks almost entirely delirious now. He's sweaty but the handsome face almost glows with liveliness, cheeks flushed and jawline trembling with emotion.

Gently, you slide his penis out of your mouth, sucking any remaining cum or spit off until you get to the tip, lightly swirling your tongue against his hole. When you finally pop off, his hand cups your cheek and he promptly drops to his knees, passionately grabbing your face and kissing you. His tongue wriggles into your mouth and you're surprised he's tongue-kissing you with the flavor of his cum fresh in your mouth still. One of his hands hungrily comes up to knead at your tit and you whimper as he harshly pinches on the end of it. Then he's pulled away from the kiss but his body is beginning to overwhelm you, crawling on top of you as you fall back onto your butt with your legs in front.

"Let me have you," he pleads, and you feel his penis is hard again and prodding against your thigh, "Please let me have you right now."

You wouldn't have preferred doing it mere feet away from your front door, especially since the crack under the door was a couple centimeters wide and anyone in the hall could probably hear you without effort, but the wild look in his eyes and the famished way he pulled at both your tits now made you want to indulge in such an animalistic fucking. Something was hot about the desperate way he looked, something enticing about the frenzied approach. You'd never seen this side of him, and the consequences of indulging with him in such a degrading way was far from your mind when his head dipped down and he tugged at the hem of your shirt. Helping him take off your shirt by lifting your arms, he wasted no time in shoving his face in your cleavage, nipping at the top of your breasts with his teeth.

Yelping at the surprising and slightly painful sensation, your hands come up to grip at his hair and he lays large wet kisses against your breasts, sucking at the skin there. You know he's gunning for hickeys and you whimper when he alternates between open-mouthed kisses and biting, arching and pressing your breasts further towards him.

His mouth pops off of them and he leans in, head over your shoulder as he fidgets with your bra clasp behind you. You turn your head as he fiddles with it and bury your face into his neck, inhaling deeply before kissing at it. He smells faintly of laundry detergent, but there's sweat and a slightly sweeter smell lingering on him, the sweeter smell hanging heavily in your nostrils and seemingly dripping at the back of your throat. It makes your head buzz a little and you pull away in a daze when he fails to unclasp your bra, your tits popping out of the thing when he pulls it down in frustration.

"What cologne do you wear?" You ask without really wanting to know right now, feeling your head spin after smelling at his neck.

"I'm not," he gasps, squeezing and pinching at your nipples freely now, and you throw your head back with a moan when he attaches at them with his mouth. He uses his tongue and teeth to alternate between nibbling and flicking at them with his tongue, paying attention to each side as he can. His penis is excitedly bumping against your thigh in his boxers and you kick your shorts off, groping at his bulge.

"Please," he says with need when he takes a break from your tits, and his hand now fumbles at his boxers. You see him pull his cock out from the hole in them and understand what he wants when he slides your panties aside, not bothering to remove them. His dick prods at you and his hips slowly move around, trying to find your entrance. Aroused and excited to feel him enter, you reach down to guide him in.

Then, you remember.

Groaning in annoyance, you gently begin pushing him off of you, "Tim, we have to use a condom. They're in my room."

He finally pulls off your tits with enough of your pushing, and he looks at you like he doesn't understand, a rabid look glinting in his eyes.

You smile, trying to make the best of it, "C'mon, it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed anyways."

Standing and realizing you feel uncharacteristically light-headed, you unsteadily make your way to your bedroom, feeling him grip at your hips while he follows. You apologize for the pornography still loudly streaming from your TV as you make your way to your dresser to get a condom, and his eyes quickly become glued to the visual stimulation, mouth opened slightly as he stared.

"Keep it on," he instructs when he notices you reach for the TV remote, "Keep it on and get over here."

You approach the bed where he sits on the end, and he opens the wrapper and pulls his boxers down to reveal his penis, hastily rolling the condom onto his length. The sensation of doing so seems to be much more stimulating to him than you thought it would, and he moans and whimpers as he pulls it all the way down. Once it's on, he grabs forward at your waist and yanks you down onto him, your breasts smashing against his face as you fall onto him. He's strong and you're letting him pull you around, straddling his lap and looking down at the needy man.

"Here," you say, reaching past him to grab your pillow and tuck it under his head, "There you go."

You smile down at him sweetly and he smiles back, kneading at your ass as you sit atop him. Leaning down to kiss him, you use a hand to reach down and guide his penis against your entry, pulling it to rub it up and down against you. His tip collects your aroused wetness and the movement become slippery as it slides with your lubrication. Just when you can tell he's getting antsy and about to whine, you guide it until you feel it at the tip of your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto it and his grip on your ass tightens until it's almost painful.

"Oh," He moans, deeply affected. His hips are still as you let him slowly penetrate you until you're full with him and there's no more room in you to sink down further, "Oh, god, you feel so good."

"How do I feel?" You ask in curiosity, looking at him as he seems dazed with the sensation of your pussy. A sudden thrust upwards into you makes you yelp, his hard penis harshly bumping against your cervix. His eyes are closed as he collects his words.

"You're so warm and fluttering around me," he says, and it's true. You feel yourself squeezing at him at the sight of him, his relief evident, "I've never felt so good; it's like you were meant to have me buried in you."

His words are spoken with conviction, and you're processing it all when he thrusts again. It still hurts, but less now. Your head is spinning, but you catch onto his new rhythm and begin lifting your hips up, forcefully pushing them down on him in time with his thrusts.

Pained but aroused moans spilling from your lips in time with each thrust, you realize your tits are bouncing around in his face with your fucking, swinging around wildly. His grip on your hips tightens impossibly and you see his biceps flex madly when his muscles take over, overriding your own rhythm and violently making you meet his thrusts. The moans from his own mouth gets louder until they're louder than yours, his pace quickening at the sight of your expression above him. You look fucked out and in pain and he relishes in it, knowing the sound of skin slapping against skin is his own doing. He grits his teeth and pulls you all the way down on his length like you were when you got on top at first, shooting his orgasm into the condom but envisioning it shooting straight into your womb.

You hiss in some pain at this large and painful thrust, moaning at the distant feeling of his dick twitching in you. The base of his cock is nestled at your entrance and you feel the entire length of it throbbing in your hot pussy as he takes his time to finish.

"You haven't cum," he says through heavy breaths as he comes down and you know he isn't asking but stating his observation.

"It's still really hot," you admit, "I like how it feels when you cum in me."

Staring up at you, he brings his hands up to your ass again and lifts his hips to inch the both of you towards the head of the bed, reaching towards the bedside dresser and grabbing one of your vibrators, handing it to you. You're still impaled on him and gasp at the sensation of him jerking you forward with him on his dick. Now kneading rhythmically at your tits, he pulls at them like he was milking you, "Cum on my cock."

Wide-eyed, you realize he's perceptive and has noticed your vibrators when you came in.

His gaze is drinking you in, eyes less wild as he stares. When you hesitate, he takes the vibrator from your fingers and turns it on, placing it against your clit as you sit on him. You're impressed he knows where the clit is and you jump at the sensation of the vibrator bumping against it, feeling him thrust up with an overstimulated whimper when you jump.

"Tim," you gasp, "doesn't that hurt?"

"Don't worry about it," he hisses through gritted teeth, "I need to feel you cum on my cock."

So you focus on finding your orgasm, hyperaware of the hard rod resting in your secret place, tracing the sex toy along places near your clitoris and moaning in pleasure as you play with yourself. He whimpers every time you squeeze on him and you squeeze on him any time you find pleasure near your clit. His hands return to milking your tits and you remember that his condom is full of his cum, sloshing around deep inside you and pressing against your cervix. The fear of the condom breaking suddenly rushes you to your first orgasm and you gasp his name, feeling him twitch deep inside you as you repeat his name helplessly in your climax. He strains upwards and his lips catch a nipple, sucking harshly as you begin to come down.

"Keep it there," he growls when you begin to pull your vibrator away, "We're not going anywhere until you cum again."

"Tim," you whimper, "I can't."

"I know you can," he says, thrusting upwards experimentally. The movement makes the vibrator bump against your clit and you squeeze down on him at your own overstimulation, making him groan. He slowly and determinedly begins thrusting into you again, small tears forming in his eyes at the overstimuation.

His stubborn insistence on chasing your second high even though you're both beyond the edge only makes you more aroused and you rut against him. He's not thrusting fully, but more so bumping against your cervix in small movements and you're fraught with a visual of the full condom sloshing around. You wonder if he will cum again into it, if it will become so full with his semen it bursts inside you. This thought along with his steady breast kneading causes the knot to quickly build up in your cunt until it comes undone again, and your second orgasm hits in a fray of overstimulation and whimpering.

"There you go," he coos, legs underneath you twitching at your pulsing movements, "There you go, you did so well. You did so good for me, baby...you were meant for it."

You shudder at the sweet tone, being pulled down for a long kiss. His chest is sweaty, the space in between the bottom of your thighs and the tops of his is slick, and you're gasping against his neck when he holds you. The two of you spend a while in that embrace, regaining your breaths and recovering from the intense session. Your head rests against his collarbone until you stir, slowly lifting yourself off him and breathing through the feeling of his cock sliding out of you. When it's fully out, you collapse next to him on the bed, bringing a leg up to wrap around his as you both take a breather.

You know you told him it was no commitment, no feelings, no drama, but you can't deny yourself a cuddle session after sex regardless. He doesn't speak, but the silence is comfortable as you rest your head against the crook of his chest and side. The atmosphere in the room shifts subtly as the distant sounds of the television fade into the background, replaced by the incessant chirping of Tim's phone.

You can't help but notice the growing urgency in Tim's demeanor as he glances at his device, a furrow forming on his brow. Despite your reluctance, he rises from the bed, his movements hesitant yet determined.

Sitting up despite your whines of protest, Tim looks at his device in concern and reluctance, "I have to take this."

Your initial protest dies on your lips as you watch him leave the room, a knot of unease forming in the pit of your stomach. What could possibly be so pressing at this hour? The uncertainty gnaws at you, feeding into the growing sense of unease.

As you strain to make out the muffled voices from the other room, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. The once familiar sounds of Tim's voice now carry an edge of tension, each word laced with frustration and urgency. It's a stark contrast to the comfortable silence you shared moments ago.

Your heart sinks further as Tim returns, his expression weighed down by an unspoken burden. The air between you feels heavy with anticipation, as if bracing for the inevitable.

"What's wrong?" you venture cautiously, already dreading the answer.

Tim's gaze flickers with a mixture of regret and resignation as he meets your eyes, his voice heavy with apology, "I'm really sorry, but something came up. I have to go."

Your mind races, trying to comprehend the sudden shift in the atmosphere. What could possibly be so urgent? Despite your efforts to remain composed, a wave of insecurity washes over you. Did this mean you weren't important enough to prioritize?

"...Really?" you finally utter, your voice trembling slightly.

"Yes," he reluctantly confirms, a guilty expression on his face, "I'm very sorry, but I need to attend to this."

Wanting to protest but knowing it would be more frustration than it was worth, you nodded slowly at the news, "...Okay."

He starts for the door, ""I wish I could stay, but I really need to go. I'll make this up to you, I swear."

As Tim heads towards the front of your apartment to gather his belongings and dress, you follow behind, hastily pulling on your shirt as you move. Despite the turmoil swirling within, you're determined to maintain a façade of composure, refusing to let the tears welling up inside spill over. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you watch him prepare to leave, a knot of anxiety tightening in your chest. You desperately cling to the hope that something truly urgent has come up, unable to bear the thought of him simply walking away after the intimacy you shared. You wonder if you'll be able to face him at school after this, but the thought is so overwhelming to you that you just try to focus on the present moment.

You swallow hard, forcing a tight-lipped smile as you bid him farewell, your heart heavy with unspoken words and unanswered questions. As the door clicks shut behind him, you're left standing alone in the hallway, grappling with the aftermath of his abrupt departure.

After a long moment, you decide that freshening up will probably help you feel better and you turn on heel to head towards the bathroom, the goal of brushing your teeth and washing your face the only thing you're ready to focus on in your sudden loneliness.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

@dakota-rain666 @tyga-stripes @obsessedwithromance

[hayleythesugarbowl]

hey girlyyyyy could you maybe write for Tim Bradford from the rookie and like the reader is his rookie and while they’re on patrol they run into someone who knows the reader’s abusive ex bf and he makes threats against reader and after their shift reader is super scared so he escorts them home and stays with them idk just an idea 😅

Nightlight || Tim Bradford x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • john nolan fic  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you encounter a man while on patrol who has a threatening message from your ex, your TO, Tim, offers to spend the night with you

word count: 10.3k

warnings: abusive past relationship, reader kind of has a panic attack, mild language, blood, guns, inaccurate police stuff

a/n: ahhh i had so much fun writing this, love!! i took your idea and also added some stuff so i hope you like what i did. i also apologize for the length, i kinda went wild. i imagine this to take place in s1. fem!reader. enjoy!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “7-Adam-19, armed shoplifter, Radcliffe Complex, 718 Oscar Road. Respond.”

     The dispatcher’s voice filled the silence of the car.

     “7-Adam-19 responding.” Officer  Bradford set down the radio and replaced his hand on the steering wheel.

     “What’s the most important thing to remember when dealing with an armed shoplifter, Boot?” Tim asked you after a moment. 

     “Why did I think that when I was in short-sleeves I would get a break from your Tim Tests?” you muttered.  

     You’d been Bradford’s rookie for seven months now and some days he still treated you like it was your first day on the force. You appreciated him trying to teach you so thoroughly, but did he have to be so Tim all the time?

     “Is that your answer, Boot?” 

     “No, um, I guess it would be that he’s armed. But no, that’s too obvious for you. Ok, what about what they’re stealing? Their physical state? Keeping their hands in sight at all times?”

     Tim sighed, looking bored. “Wrong. It’s—”

     “Suspect on the move, heading east on Apple Boulevard,” came the dispatcher’s update, interrupting your TO’s answer.

     “Looks like we’re headed east,” Tim said, turning sharply in the direction you’d just come from. 

     “Saved by the suspect,” you joked. 

     “Don’t think this is over,” Tim narrowed his eyes at the road. “Lessons don’t stop for crime.”

     “Ok, batman.”

     Tim glared at you.

     “I mean, Sir.”

     After you’d first been assigned to Officer Bradford, you’d been told stories of his ruthless training style. Your first thought was that you needed to impress him from day one.

     Well, technically your first thought was damn, because you’d have to be insane not to notice how objectively attractive he was. But you’d quickly quelled that thought—crushing on your TO was not how you wanted to start your career as an officer. 

     So, impressing him was your second thought. And you had been more than a little terrified of not impressing him. 

     You would be lying if you said that wasn’t how things still were between you two, to a degree—you trying to prove yourself and him making it as difficult as possible. 

     But, at least after several months, you felt like your TO trusted you more. 

     “There!” You pointed to a man running down the street, duffel bag in hand.

     Tim hit the gas, surpassing the suspect, and skidding to a stop in front of him, effectively cutting him off. 

     You both hurried out of the car, weapons drawn on the man who was currently aiming his gun back and forth, between you and Bradford. 

     “Police! Drop your weapon!” Tim shouted at the man. 

     The man hesitated, seeming to be weighing his options—how easily he could take out two cops. 

     “Set the weapon down, nice and easy,” Tim ordered, his own gun still pointed at the suspect.”

     The man, seeming to sense the inevitability of his capture, sighed and set his gun on the ground. 

     “The answer was dialogue, by the way,” Tim addressed you, his eyes still on the suspect. “Dialogue is the most important  thing when dealing with an armed suspect.”

     “Good to know,” you acknowledged, before ordering the man in front of you. “Hands behind your head, interlace your fingers.”

     The man’s gaze shot to you as he obeyed your commands. 

     “Hey, lady cop, you look familiar,” the criminal squinted at you. 

     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said. You’d never seen this man in your life. 

     “I swear—”

     “Hands on the car!” You ordered 

     The man reluctantly did what he was told, placing his palms on the side of the shop. 

      “Wait a minute,” the man sized you up before smirking slowly. “Your Paul Cranston’s girl, ain’t ya?”

     You felt your blood instantly run cold at the name. 

     “You must have me mistaken for someone else,” you said again, robotically, grabbing one of his arms. 

     “No, no I’d recognize that pretty face anywhere,” the criminal whispered. “He told me all about you. Hey, why don’t you let me go and I’ll give you a friendly tip?”

     You responded by twisting his arm behind his back even harder.

     He winced. “So you didn’t hear then? Paul’s out.”

     No. That couldn’t be true. Paul wasn’t supposed to be out for—

     “Boot, you going to cuff him or not?” Tim called impatiently.

     “Right.” You shook off the stupor and began handcuffing the suspect. Your mind was still on that name, however, and your reflexes were slowed.

     Which is how the suspect was able to rip his arm from your grip and shove you to the ground as he tried to make a break for it. 

     Tim tackled him almost immediately, wrestling him into the cuffs that were dangling on one of his wrists where you had started to restrain him, and pushing him towards the shop.

     “Wait, Paul’s got a message for you!” the man hurried out, looking only at you as Tim waked over and shoved him into the backseat. “He said you best watch yourself, because he has connections, and he still hasn’t gotten his revenge. He’s out—and he’s coming for you.”

     “That’s enough, get in the car.” Tim slammed the door shut, and the echo of it rang in your ears as the man’s words played over and over again.

     He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 

     “What the hell was that?” 

     You looked up to Bradford’s questioning—and furious—face. He offered you a hand and you took it, standing up to face him. 

     “Sorry, I—”

     “‘Sorry’ doesn’t stop criminals from escaping,” Tim shouted. “Get your head in the game. You do want to be a cop, don’t you, Boot?”

     “Yes, sir.”

     So much for Tim trusting you. You couldn’t believe you’d almost just let a suspect get away. That had never happened to you before. But, that name—

     Your TO shook his head, walking to the drivers side and opening the door. “You know, I should write you up for that.”

     You noticed his wording. “But you’re not going to?”

     He waited for you to get into the passenger seat before saying, 

     “I didn’t say that. First you’re going to tell me what just happened between you two.”

     You flinched. “It—nothing. It was nothing.”

     “Uh-huh. It didn’t sound like nothing. Who’s Paul Cranston?” 

     You swallowed hard. “He’s just someone I used to know.”

      A million images flashed through your head. Paul’s face looming over you. The flashing lights and sirens. Waking up in the hospital. 

     You shook yourself out of it. You didn’t want to talk about this now. You swore you’d never talk about it again. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we get back to the station. Don’t we have to book this guy?”

     Tim sighed, started the car, and re-entered traffic. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

     “Control, this is 7-Adam-19. I need an ID on a Paul Cranston,” Tim spoke into his radio. 

     And so much for not talking about this now.

     “Can you do that without suspicion of a crime?” You asked him.

     “You can when dispatch loves you.” He winked at you. 

     You rolled your eyes at him as the radio began speaking. 

     “Paul Cranston: caucasian male, date of birth 8/4/92, recently released on parole, history of theft and domestic violence.” 

     Tim turned his gaze to you. “How do you know this man, Boot?”

     “It’s—a long story,” you told him. 

     “Well then you better start talking if you want to finish before we reach the station,” Tim commanded, making a left turn.

     “Can’t you just let it go?” You asked him. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

      He’s out, and he’s coming for you. 

     You couldn’t fight the shiver that racked your body. 

      Tim’s eyes flicked to you, before returning back to the road. Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, shifting the car into park before turning to you. 

     “If this is another one of your ‘I’m dying, where are we’ tests—”

     “Boot, focus,” Tim barked. 

     “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think it’s really any of your concern if—”

     “Of course it’s my concern!” Tim shouted. His expression was so intense, you squirmed under his gaze and you felt your face heat. 

     He looked torn for a moment, before sighing and saying, “It’s my job as your TO to train you to the best of my abilities, and I can’t do that if you’re withholding information that may affect your performance as an officer.”

     “Fine,” you breathed. “It was a long time ago. I was 18, Paul and I met freshman year of college. We started dating and things were fine, good even, for a while.”

     “Until?” Tim prompted.

     “Until he got pissed one night because I caught him coming home really late with a ski mask and a bag full of stolen cash. Cliche, right?”

     You looked to Tim, but his expression was as stony as ever and you continued.

     “Apparently, he’d been stealing since high school and turns out he’d lied to me about working in retail and a whole bunch of other stuff. I threatened to call the police if he didn’t stop and—”

     You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

You watched the houses and trees and cars pass by as you drove towards the station. 

     “—and he hit me. It didn't stop after that—once he knew he could get away with it. He said if I ever told anyone—about the robberies, the beatings—that he’d kill me. And I let him go on like that for months. I was so scared that if I called anyone, he’d make good on his promise.”

     Tim’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his fingers turning white, but he didn’t speak.

     “But then, one night, it got so bad that I thought he might actually kill me anyway. So I waited until he left the room for a minute and I called 911. He was arrested and—and that’s all I remember before I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital the next morning.”

     You kept your voice even, trying not to let the emotion show through your story. You were just recounting facts. This was almost 10 years ago, and you’d moved on with your life. 

     But reliving it all was hard, even after so much time had passed. 

     “It’s actually why I joined the academy,” you finished. “I wanted to save people, the way the officers that night did for me.”

     You were both silent for a moment. 

     A muscle in Tim’s jaw ticked. “Does the department know?”

     “Yeah,” you sighed. “It’s all part of my file.”

     “And the guy back there?” 

     You shrugged, glancing back at the suspect and lowering your voice. “He must be one of Paul’s partners or goons or—I don’t know. I guess he’s been in contact with him since he was released, if he knows what I look like.”

     The thought made your skin crawl. 

     “I don’t know what came over me,” you kept going. “It’s been years, I just—I didn’t expect to hear about him out of the blue from a criminal on the street, you know? But, I promise it won’t happen again.”

     Tim ignored that. “Do you think it was an empty threat?”

     “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I sure as hell hope so.”

     Bradford was silent for a long moment, his expression tense.

     The radio crackled to life. “7-Adam-19, we have a 215 in progress near your area, 239 West Armston Street. Respond.” 

     “Negative,” Bradford answered the dispatch call. 

     You stared at him, shocked. “Why aren’t we taking that? We can drop this guy off afterwards.”

     “Yeah, I agree,” the suspect chimed in from the backseat. “I think you should take that first.”

      Tim payed him no attention. “They’ll have someone else over there in minutes. We have more important things to do.”

     “You’re not even going to ask me if I know what a 215 is?” You joked. Tim never passed up an opportunity to quiz you. 

     “What’s a 215, Boot?” 

     “Carjacking.”

     “Correct.” Tim nodded. “And we’re going to have a talk with Sergeant Grey.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

    “Paul Cranston, released on parole from a thirteen year sentence three days ago, currently believed to be residing in the Woodland Hills area.”

     You sat in the briefing room, surrounded by other officers, as Sergeant Grey read out your ex-boyfriend’s file. You stared into Paul’s face on the screen, his mugshot visible from all angles. 

     Bradford stood near the front of the room, leaning against the wall. 

      “The department is aware of Officer (Y/l/n)’s history with Mr. Cranston,” Grey continued. “And will take necessary action should the situation progress.”

      “So, what’s the course of action here?” Tim crossed his arms. 

     “I’m afraid, as of now, there isn’t one,” Grey said. “Since there is no direct proof against Paul Cranston, we’d essentially be taking the word of a petty thief and wasting resources on what most likely was a desperate attempt to escape arrest. The department doesn’t exactly consider it a threat.”

    “Doesn’t consider it a threat?” Tim’s voice was low and dangerous. “How about a charge for threatening an officer?”

    “But Paul didn’t threaten an officer,” you sighed, thinking. “The armed robbery suspect did.”

     “Exactly, Officer (Y/l/n),” Grey agreed. “Basically, our hands are tied.”

     “Then untie them,” Bradford snapped, beginning to pace. “There’s gotta be some technicality we can get him on. Violation of parole, conspiring with a felon, failure to—”

     “That’s enough, Officer Bradford,” The sergeant fixed your TO with a firm look. “I appreciate your concern for (Y/l/n)’s safety, but we’ve done all we can do. And, for now, that’s nothing.”

      Tim’s concern for your safety. That thought had been in the back of your mind since the ride to the station. You couldn’t figure out why Tim was so determined about this. You supposed you were his rookie and was his job to look out for you. It was just, up until now, he hadn’t exactly done anything to make you believe he’d care so much.

     “Failure to take action could be endangering one of our officers,” Tim said, his jaw clenched. “Who’s to say this guy won’t make good on his threat? At least increase security at (Y/l/n)’s residence.”

     “Tim, its fine,” you said, your voice firm. “Let it go.” 

     They were making a big enough deal about this already. It probably was just a case of a criminal trying anything to get free. You doubted Paul even cared about what happened to you anymore. He probably never wanted to see you again—and that was a good thing. 

     But, then, you couldn’t get those words out of your head.

     He’s out and he’s coming for you.

     Bradford turned to you, his chest rising and falling. He looked so…resolved. Like he did when chasing down a suspect or that time when you’d walked in on him in the training rooms.

     Images of Tim shirtless, the muscles in his back tight as he pushed himself harder filled your head and you quickly shook them away. Definitely not the time. 

   “We’ll send a surveillance team to Paul’s location in the morning,” Grey said, turning to address you. “But for now the best thing you can do is to go home, get some sleep, and not let this rattle you. Understood?”

     “Yes, Sergeant.”

     “Good. Because the last thing the L.A.P.D needs is a cop who lets their personal life get in the way of their ability to do their job in any way that’s less than exemplary. I trust that’s not the case?” 

     You glanced to Bradford, certain he was going to mention your mistake with the suspect earlier. 

     “No, Sir,” Tim said instead. “My rookies don’t do ‘less than exemplary’. Don’t worry about (Y/l/n)—she’s proved to me she has what it takes to be an officer.”

     “Glad to hear it. Shift over. Everybody else, back to work,” Sergeant Grey waved everyone away. 

     You walked towards the front of the room, hearing grumbled complaints about midnight shift from the unlucky officers who still had to do patrol as you did so. 

     You stopped in front of your TO. His eyes were on you, his brow drawn in something that looked like concern.

     “Thanks,” you said. You couldn’t believe he’d told Grey all that—it was the most complimentary thing he’d said about you in your whole time riding with him. 

     “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Tim stated, shrugging. “I expect you to live up to any praise I’ve given you.”

     “Yes, sir,” you nodded, almost smiling.

     “Besides, you’re being trained by me. You’d have to be royally screwed up not to become one of the best on the force.”

     “And he’s humble too,” you teased. “But I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

     “Whatever, Boot.” Tim smiled, shaking his head. 

     “Be nonchalant all you want,” you said, feeling brave. “I know you like me.”

     For a brief moment, Tim looked like you’d slapped him. But then, the flash of—whatever that was—was gone and his expression was replaced by one of cold indifference. 

     “In your TO not your friend, (Y/l/n),” he stated. “It’s not about liking you. It’s about training you.”

      You sighed inwardly. Just when you thought you were making ground with Tim, he treated you like you’d just met. “Of course, how could I forget.”

     Tim stayed silent. 

    “Well, I should head out,” you told him, “I’ve got a busy night ahead me. You know, trying not to get killed by my ex and all.”

     You’d meant it as a joke, to make light of the situation that left you feeling more uneasy than you’d care to admit. Tim, however, just shook his head and brushed past you, out of the briefing room. 

     You stood there for a moment, trying to work through what had just happened, before turning around and taking a step in the other direction. Only to find Officers Lopez and Bishop standing in front of you, staring between you and Tim’s retreating figure. 

     “So how’d you do it?” Bishop looked you up and down.

     “Do what?” You asked, confused. 

     “Get Tim wrapped around your finger,” Lopez answered for her, smirking. 

     You felt your eyes widen. “Tim’s not—” 

     “Please,” Lopez put her hands on her hips. “I’ve watched him train dozens of rookies and he’s never stood up for any of them like that. So naturally I figured you’re either blackmailing him or sleeping with him.”

     You blanched, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you let what Angela said sink in. You knew she was just teasing you, but the statement caught you off guard. You imagined you and Tim—together. It wasn’t necessarily an unpleasant thought. And then you realized what you were thinking and you chided yourself, hurriedly un-imagining it. 

     “No, that’s not—neither one of those things,” you answered quickly. “Trust me, Tim doesn’t give me any special treatment, if that’s what you’re implying. I actually can’t tell if he hates me half of the time.”

     “We’re not implying anything,” Bishop replied. “Only observing. And he doesn’t hate you.”

     “How can you possibly know that?” You were suddenly insecure. You still held on to a secret dread that you were going to wildly disappoint Tim—that you already had. Sure, there was all the stuff he had just said. But there was also months of him being hard on you and saying that you weren’t friends. 

     “Because I’ve seen him hate plenty of people,” Bishop spoke. “And he definitely didn’t look at them the way he looks at you.”

      The way Tim looked at you? You weren’t aware he looked at you in a way that was different from the way he looked at anyone else at the station.

     “What are you guys trying to say?” You asked them. 

     “I’m saying watch out,” Bishop raised an eyebrow. “Because Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.”

     Could there be any truth to what the two officers were saying? Was it wrong for a small part of you to hope there was?

     “Um, ok,” you said, blinking. “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.”

     “Don’t believe us if you want, it’s your call,” Bishop shrugged, backing up. “But I’m telling you, you mean something to Tim that the rest of us can only guess at.”

     And with that she walked out of the room.

    “Bishop can be intense,” Angela said when the woman was out of earshot. “She’s got that whole ‘anti-cops-dating’ thing going on—but I do think she’s right about this. Tim’s tough, and I’m sure he gives you hell—but it’s not because he doesn’t like you. I actually think it’s quite the opposite. ”

     Was there really something that everyone saw between you and Tim except for you? You still couldn’t even entertain the thought that Tim had feelings for you that were more than TO and rookie. 

     “Well you’ve certainly left me with a lot to think about,” you said finally.

     “Then I’ll let you start thinking—you’re welcome for the peace of mind.” 

     You wouldn’t have used the phrase peace of mind, yourself. Sure, it was nice to know that the officers who had known your TO for years were confident that he didn’t look down on you. But, this conversation also had left your head swimming with conflicting thoughts about Tim that you didn’t feel like dealing with right now.

     “And take care,” Lopez said knowingly. “We have your back if anything happens.”

      With that, your thoughts slammed back to the current situation.

    “Right, that. You—you think something’s going to happen?” You asked, trying to sound casual.

     “I think in this job we have to be prepared for the worst,” she corrected. “But I also think that bastard would have to be pretty stupid to mess with you.”

     She smiled at you and you smiled back. After watching her leave, you followed her path, heading towards the locker rooms.

     You thought about what she had said about you and Tim, about Paul.

     You hoped she was right—you just couldn’t say which you hoped she was more right about.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     Your thoughts bounced between your conversation with Talia and Angela and the message from your ex as you walked to your car minutes later. 

     When you woke up this morning, you thought the most stressful part of your day would’ve been a police chase or a shootout.  You never would’ve expected it to be my ex-boyfriend is out of jail and could be hunting me down and my training officer might have feelings for me.

     Funny how things could change so fast.

     Suddenly, you heard a bang. You spun around quickly, your heart in your throat. But it was only a car door being slammed shut from across the parking lot. 

     Get a grip, you told yourself. 

     You rounded the corner, running a hand through your hair.

     You stopped. Tim was leaning against the side of your car, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked you up and down.

     “What are you doing?” You asked. 

     “Driving you home, Boot,” Tim said. “Get in the car.”

     “Tim, you don’t have to—”

     “That wasn’t a question, give me the keys.”

     There was no point in fighting him. Besides, there was a small part of you that didn’t really want to fight him. 

     You tossed him the keys to your car and got in the passenger seat with a sigh.  

     Tim started the engine. 

     “If this is about Paul, this really isn’t necessary,” you said after you’d been driving for several minutes and the silence became too much. “I can handle myself. I am an officer, in case you forgot.”

     “You’re a rookie,” Tim corrected, eyes never leaving the road. “And if the department won’t do anything, then I will.”

     “What—we’re not going to go looking for him, are we?” You asked.

     “Of course not,” Tim scoffed. “I’m not a vigilante, Boot. Where do you live?”

     “Take a left at the light,” you guided. 

     Neither of you talked for the remainder of the drive, save your occasional directions. When you pointed out your apartment building, Tim parked the car and handed you the keys. 

     “Thanks,” you mumbled to him as you got out of the car, grabbing your bag and heading towards the building.

     You heard a door shut behind you and turned to find your TO standing on the sidewalk, an eyebrow raised.

     “You didn’t think I was just going to let you spend the night alone with a target on your head, did you, Boot?” 

     “Tim—”

     “No more protests,” he said firmly. “As your TO, I—”

     “No, I was just going to say that if you were planning on staying here, why couldn’t I have just driven my own car?”

     “I don’t let my rookies drive,” Tim walked past you and to the front door. “Even off-duty.”

     You followed him quickly, getting out your key and letting you both in.

     When you reached your apartment you did a quick scan of the space—it wasn’t exactly like you’d been expecting company, much less your training officer. You cringed at the messiness.

      “How many entrances and exits are there?” Bradford asked. 

     “Um, just the front door. And there’s windows in the kitchen and the bedroom,” you said. 

     You skimmed past everything in the place, looking towards the window in your bedroom. Your eye caught on one of your bras hanging from your bedpost. You quickly ran over and shut the door, blushing and hoping Tim hadn’t noticed.

     “Please, Boot,” Tim made a face. “It’s nothing I haven’t already seen before.”

     “Ok no offense, but I usually don’t let guys see my bra the first time I bring them to my place,” you joked.

     “If that’s an offer, I’m going to have to politely decline.”

     “What—no,” you hurried out, worried your voice sounded wrong. “I just meant—”

    Tim interrupted. “I’m going to do a sweep of the place, make sure everything’s as it should be.”

     “Is that really needed?”

     “I’m not taking any chances.” He left the room and you sunk down onto the couch, letting your bag fall to the floor. 

     Your TO returned a few minutes later. “All clear.”

     “See, everything’s fine,” you said, speaking just as much to yourself as you were to Tim. 

     “Well,” Bradford started, amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say everything is fine. Your storage closet’s a fire hazard.”

     Had Tim Bradford just made a joke?

     “I’ll be sure not to exit through the closet in the events of a fire,” you said sarcastically. “And if you keep insulting my living space, I’m going to be forced to kick you out.”

     “Bold for someone whose career I could end.”

     “You can’t end my career for that,” you shot back. Paused. “Can you?”

     Tim raised his eyebrows.

     “Only one way to find out,” you said enthusiastically, teasing him now. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t let the closet trap you on the way out.

     “Nice try, Boot. But you’re still stuck with me for,” Tim checked his watch. “eight hours.”

     “Nine hours,” you corrected. You had to leave for work in nine hours.

     “You’re right, I should get us drinks,” Tim joked.

     You rolled you eyes and he shot you a look. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge.”

     Tim got up, disappearing into the kitchen.  

     “Is all you own ginger ale, Boot?” He called. 

     “There’s six year old tequila in the cupboard,” you suggested.

     “Ginger ale it is.”

      Tim joined you in the living room again, carrying two bottles. He handed one to you, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. 

     You noted the careful distance he put between you. 

     “What’s this thing made of, Boot? Plywood?” Tim asked, inspecting the couch.

     You smothered a laugh.

     “Get comfortable. It’s where you’re sleeping,” you answered. 

     “Won’t be necessary. If you’re not awake you’re not aware.”

     “So, what, we’re taking shifts on guard like this is a stakeout?” You asked.

     “Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t come here to sleep.”

     “Tim I can’t let you stay up all night while I’m unconscious.” you sighed.

     “You can if it’s an order. Besides, no offense, but rookies are historically less vigilant and have a slower response time…” 

     You tried not to take offense at that. “Right, Eagle Eye.”

     Tim glared at you. 

     “Angela told me.”

     “Of course she did. And at least I didn’t leave valuable evidence on the street to chase after a dog wearing a top hat.”

     “Sparky could’ve been involved in the crime,” you said, indignant. “And that was one time!”

     “One time too many,” Tim mumbled, lifting the bottle to his lips, his eyes sparkling. 

     “Ok, so when you were a rookie you were, what, perfect?” You shot back.

     “Damn straight.” Tim nodded. 

     “You made no mistakes, at all?” You prompted.

     “Well,” Tim took a sip of his drink. “There was one thing.”

     “Aside from the graffiti incident?”

     “That wasn’t a mistake because it wasn’t my fault. I was following direct orders and—you know what, never mind. If you don’t want to hear it—”

     “No, no, I do!” you scooted towards the edge of your seat in anticipation. “And none of that ‘I worked too hard and too efficiently’ crap.”

     “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said sarcastically. “My first week on the job I was put on paperwork duty, which was—”

     “Boring and tedious? I can imagine,” you deadpanned, having been put in charge of paperwork by Tim many times.

     “I was going to say necessary and a valuable skill to have,” Bradford corrected. “But anyways, we had just got done booking a couple suspects and I was working on the reports. A triple homicide and a prostitution case. It was a long day and I was tired and I guess I got sloppy—”

     “You? Sloppy?” You interrupted.

     “Do you want me to tell you this story or not?”

     “Right, sorry. Continue.”

     Tim did. “I’d just finished tagging the evidence for both cases and when I was filling everything out I somehow got the numbers mixed up. Long story short, according to my report, the homicide gun ended up being linked to the prostitution case and the weapon allegedly used in the triple homicide was…a pair of pink, fluffy handcuffs.”

      You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you now.

     “Forensics caught it before it was sent to the judge, thank god,” Bradford sighed. “But the next day when I was getting ready for my shift, I was greeted by dozens of similar handcuffs in my locker—apparently Smitty has a guy.”

     “Tell me you kept them,” you begged, pulling your knees up to your chest.

     “Of course not!”

     Tim blinked.

     “Well, not all of them—Isabel made me take a pair home. I found out later that she was the one who orchestrated the whole prank. She used to do stuff like that all the time before she, uh,—”

     “Tim—”

     You’d heard about Bradford’s ex-wife. How she’d become an addict, gotten herself mixed up with bad people. You knew how much it had affected Tim, even if he hadn’t said so. 

     She was in rehab now, getting her life back together. You were glad she was finally getting the help she needed. Still, you knew how much she meant to Tim. How much it had hurt him to move on from her and let her start a new life without him. 

     “I’m fine.” Tim said firmly, clearing his throat. “It’s good to talk about her…before. She’s on the right path now.”

     You stared at the ground in front of you, picking at your fingernails. 

     “Are you still in love with her?” The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it. You didn’t know why you asked—didn’t know why you cared what the answer was. Ten minutes ago you wouldn’t have even dared to ask that question.  

     But he was being so uncharacteristically open and you seemed to be getting along well. You reluctantly brought your eyes up to Tim.

     His eyes had gone wide. He looked like he wanted to leave or yell at you or both, and you immediately regretted it.

     But then his eyes softened and he opened his mouth. “No. I’ll always care about her and she’ll always be someone that I did love. But relationships change—people change.”

     You nodded. “I get it—I mean, I’m kind of rusty on relationships—but I get it. I actually haven’t dated anyone since Paul. I guess it was just hard to trust someone after that. I kind of sabotaged any relationship that had any chance of starting.”

     It was the first time you’d admitted that to anyone. You wouldn’t have pegged Tim as being so easy to talk to. You had almost forgotten about the whole Paul situation before you’d just brought him up. You had been enjoying hanging out with Tim, no matter the circumstances. He was actually pleasant to be around when he wasn’t on the clock. 

     You imagined this happening more often—you and Tim, not just coworkers but friends. Maybe even more. Maybe this was one relationship you didn’t have to end before it started.

     You dared to let yourself think about it. You watched Tim process your words. Saw the emotion clearly written in his face as he looked at you intensely. 

     “Hey, thanks again for not letting me be alone tonight,” you told him, you’re voice soft. 

     “Don’t take it personally, Boot,” he said. “My house is being repainted and even your place beats breathing in paint fumes all night.”

     “I’m honored,” you laughed, rolling your eyes. “But you have to admit this has been fun—hanging out.”

     Your little impromptu sleepover. You smiled.

     Tim, however, looked like a switch had been flipped inside of him. You watched as he clenched his jaw, leaning almost imperceptibly away from you 

     “Listen, Boot—”

     He was cut off by the sound of breaking glass and a loud thumping sound. 

     You both shot up off the couch, abandoning your drinks. Tim’s hand went to his gun. You did the same. 

     Tim turned to you. “Stay here.”

     “Like hell,” you shot back, following him as he started to do a sweep of the main room.

     If that sound was someone—Paul—breaking in, you weren’t going to sit here and let Bradford fight your battles for you. 

     He signaled to let you know he was moving to the kitchen. You nodded, following. 

     “Clear,” he muttered, and moved on towards the bathroom. You were right behind him when you heard another noise, like the muffled sound of scraping of furniture, and you spun around.

     The bedroom. It was the only room in that direction that you hadn’t checked yet. 

     You glanced to Tim, but he hadn’t heard it. He was a few feet ahead of you, just now entering the bathroom. 

     You slowly stepped away from him and made your way across the apartment, down the hall and over to the closed bedroom door.

     Holding your weapon in one hand, you opened the door with the other. But, you barely had time to see what was on the other side before you were grabbed and a cloth was shoved into your mouth. 

     Your gun was ripped from your hand, and you were pushed hard onto the ground. Your wrist burned where you landed on shards of glass from the broken window

     Something smacked into the back of your head and you were dragged and thrown onto the bed on the corner. You heard the door shut. 

     Squinting up into the light, rubbing your throbbing head, your heart dropped as you saw who was in front of you. 

     “Did you miss me?” Paul sneered, spinning your gun in his hand. 

     You froze. Everything crashed into you at once. The events of the last time you saw your ex-boyfriend sped through your mind. Suddenly, you were scared and 18 again, at the mercy of this man. 

     “I guess you got my man’s message,” Paul continued. “Because you don’t exactly look shocked to see me. Scared, of course, but not shocked.”

     Coming back to yourself, you scrambled up onto your knees, ready to knock him out.

     Paul shook his head, laughing. “No, no. If you move even an inch I’ll shoot you right in the forehead.”

     You sat back down, your heart thumping in your chest as you scanned the room for a way out. Some way to get the upper hand on him. You had been trained for this.

     “Listen to me,” he continued, his hand coming to the gag in your mouth. You flinched away from him. “I know there’s someone in here with you. If you try to scream to alert them, I will also shoot you.  I’d like to play with you first before I put a bullet in your brain but, hey, I’m not picky. Is that clear?”

     You nodded, trying to measure how fast you could knock the weapon out of his hand before he could take a shot at you. Paul took the cloth out of you mouth.

     You gasped in air. “Backup’s going to be in here any second and then you’re going back to prison.”

     Tim would notice you were gone. He had to. 

     “Oh, I don’t think so,” Paul smiled. “I’ll be long gone and you’ll be long dead before that happens.”

     You glanced towards the door. What was taking him so long?

     Suddenly, Paul reached forwards and gripped your face in his hand. “Just as beautiful as I remember. It was such a shame things had to end with us as they did. How did that happen again? Oh, that’s right. You betrayed me.”

     “And that was the best decision I ever made,” you spat. 

     Paul backed up, shaking his head. “You’ve gotten feistier, baby. It’ll make this so much more fun for me.”

     He stepped back towards you, his face inches from yours, sneering. “This’ll be just like old times.”

     Bam! The door to your bedroom busted open. Bradford rushed in, taking in the situation. You breathed a sigh of relief.

     “Get down on the ground!” Tim growled.

     Paul froze for only a second, fear flashing across his face, but it was enough. You lunged, wrestling the gun out of his hands, your wrist protesting. 

     You trained it on him. Paul was surrounded.

     “You have five seconds to get on the ground before I shoot you,” Tim bit out, his expression murderous.

     “Come on, baby, you’re not going to let Officer Buzzkill treat me like that, are you?” Paul appealed to you. 

     You leveled your gaze on him, ignoring his words. “You heard him. Get on the ground.”

     Paul slowly knelt, never taking his eyes off of you. Tim charged him, pulling out handcuffs and locking them around his wrists. 

    You took a moment to be amused—of course Tim had off-duty cuffs. 

    “So this ends the way it starts, huh?” Paul shook his head. “You getting me locked up?”

     “Just like old times,” you echoed his earlier statement. You stayed stoic, putting your hands on your hips to hide the way they shook.

    Anger sparked in Paul’s eyes before he took on a smug expression. “You’re right. You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.”

     “Don’t listen to him, Boot,” Tim warned hauling the man up off the ground. 

     “You know I’m right,” Paul’s manic eyes bore into yours. He was enjoying every moment of this, laughter in his tone. It took all that was in you to keep your expression blank, unaffected. “You’ll always be that person I knew—the person who loved me. Because you did—love me. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You just took it all like the victim you are. You pathetic bitch—”

      He was cut off abruptly as Tim slammed him face-first against the wall. Paul cried out.

     “That’s enough!” Tim shouted. “If you ever threaten—no, if you even look at (Y/l/n) again, I will hunt you down and personally remove every external limb from your body, do you understand me? (Y/n) is a million times the person you will ever be and you don’t get to make her feel small. If I didn’t think sitting in a cell for the rest of your life was a worse fate, I’d kill you right now—screw the department.”

     Your ears were ringing, your head dizzy as you tried to ground yourself. Your voice came out tiny. “Tim, stop.”

     Bradford turned to you, almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room. He was breathing hard, his fists clenched around the man in custody. 

     “And she’s not a victim,” Tim whispered, turning back to Paul, his voice right by his ear. “She’s a survivor.”

     With that, he shoved Paul back to the ground and moved over to you, his eyes roaming over your face. Your body. He took the gun out of your hands, setting it on the desk. Then, he gripped your injured wrist and you winced as he inspected it.

     “Probably hurts like hell, but you won’t need stitches. Any other injuries?”

     “Um, he hit me in the back of the head,” you felt your scalp, a lump already forming.

     Tim’s hands moved to your hair, his touch gentle, his breath on your cheek as he leaned to get a better look.

     Your own breath caught, your heart racing at the intimacy of your position. 

     “What’s the damage?” You almost whispered.

     Tim’s eyes met yours, the heat of his stare spreading through your body. “You’ll have a nasty bruise, but there’s no external bleeding.”

     Tim stepped back, and you found yourself wishing he hadn’t.

     “Are you—are you ok, Boot?” He asked carefully. 

     How did you even answer that question? You were still in shock, unable to process what had just happened. 

     “I will be,” you settled on, breathing in slowly. Exhaling.

      Tim looked like he wanted to say more but he clenched his jaw, glancing in the direction of Paul, who had been uncharacteristically silent. Maybe he had finally accepted his defeat. 

     “I’m going to call for back up, you go clean that up,” Tim gestured to the blood covering your wrist where you had landed in the broken glass. “You need help?”

     “No, I got it,” You nodded, walking towards the bathroom as you heard Tim make the call.

     “911, what’s your emergency?”

     “This is off-duty officer Tim Bradford, badge 34831. I need a unit to my location for a 126. Suspect in custody. Code 1.”

      Tim’s voice faded as you made your way down the hall, shutting the bathroom door after you to access the medicine cabinet behind it.

     You took out the necessary supplies and began cleaning the wound. You stopped in front of the sink, letting your burning eyes close for a moment, massaging your temples. 

     Now that you were alone, you let yourself collapse, bracing your hands against the counter 

     Images flooded your senses. 

     The gag. Paul hitting you from behind. You, young and frightened, huddled on the ground. That gleam in his eyes.

     Your eyes snapped open, your breath coming out fast.

     He’s in custody. You told yourself. He can’t hurt you anymore. 

     You looked at your reflection in the mirror staring wearily back at you, your hands still shaking as you brushed your hair back from your face. Was it hot in here or was it just you?

      Turning your attention back to your wrist, you took a deep breath and continued to dab at the wound.

      You reached for the bandages on the counter. A sheen of sweat broke out on your forehead as you wrapped your arm. 

      You pictured Paul’s grip on you. His words rang in your ears. 

     You’re the same girl you were when I met you. You haven’t changed a bit.

     The room tilted. You swayed on your feet so you sunk down to the ground, leaning your head against the cabinet, the cool wood pressing against your head. 

     You tried to slow your erratic breathing but you couldn’t. You couldn’t—

     The sound of footsteps and voices carried through the door. You were vaguely aware that it was probably the backup here to take Paul away.

     You closed your eyes, your throat tight, you pulse thundering in your ears.

     I’m ok, you tried to tell yourself. I’m ok. I’m ok.

     You were unaware how long you sat like this. You had no concept of time. Your thoughts were wild, images flashing in and out, unable to form conscious ideas. Every breath sending a sharp pain through your body. 

     “Boot?”

     The muffled voice was closer than the others had been. 

     “Boot?” The voice was louder now. You registered Tim at the door. He knocked once. Twice. 

     “Boot, I’m coming in,” he shouted, his voice laced with worry. The door was shoved open. 

     “Dammit,” he cursed, seeing your state. You felt him getting closer to you, but you didn’t look up as he knelt by you, his concerned expression taking in yours.

     “Hey, look at me,” Tim coaxed. “(Y/l/n), breathe.”

     He seemed miles and miles away. There was a pause.

     “Hey, Boot, I got another test for you,” he spoke quickly, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “I want you to tell me the most annoying person we work with.”

     “What?” You rasped, barely hearing him. 

    “Bishop’s an easy target,” he said. “And Lopez is a slob, so you can’t go wrong there. West’s got the whole daddy issues thing. Don’t even get me started on Nolan—”

     You swallowed hard, your mouth feeling dry.

     “And then there’s me. I mean, I’m annoying right?”

     You breathed a shaky laugh, opening your eyes slowly. 

     Tim smiled. “Oh so you agree? It’s ok, Boot, you can say me. Go ahead, I can take it.”

     When you didn’t say anything, Tim kept talking. “Personally I’d go for Detective Coleman. The man makes double what I do and I’m convinced he doesn’t own a decent looking tie.”

     “L-like the—the green one from last week,” you managed, trying to slow your breathing.

     “Leprechauns would call it tacky,” Tim agreed. “Now, since we’ve discussed this from all angles I’m going to need you to choose wisely. Because this is going to go on your evaluation for today.”

     You gulped. “Are—are you going to get me fired if I say you?”

     Tim let out a quiet, relieved laugh. “I knew it. Guess who’s going back to long-sleeves on Monday?”

     “In this heat wave? You—you wouldn’t dare,” you joked, sniffing.

     “I don’t know, I am the most annoying person you work with—sounds like something I might do.”

     You laughed again, this time the sound coming out less strained. You focused on taking deep breaths, feeling your heart rate return to normal. 

     “There you go.” Tim stood up, offering his hand to you for the second time that day. You gripped his arm as he pulled you up onto shaky legs.

     “Thanks,” you mumbled, embarrassed to have had your TO see you like this now that your head was clearer. 

     “For what, doing my job?”

     You smiled weakly at him, running a hand along your forehead. “Sorry for um—”  

     “Having a normal reaction to a highly emotional situation? Don’t apologize for being human,” Tim said firmly, his forehead creased.

     “So, he’s gone?” You’re voice came out small.

     Tim’s expression softened. “He’s gone.”

     You nodded again, looking at the floor. 

     “Hey, (Y/n), look at me.” Tim said. You brought your gaze up to meet his. “He’s never going to hurt you again, ok? I’ll make sure of that.”

      You let your eyes fall closed, feeling ashamed that you had been so affected. That Tim had to handle all of this for you. “I know. And I’ll understand if after…all this, you don’t see me fit to—to be a police officer anymore.”

     Tim’s eyes hardened, his voice hardening with them. “With all do respect, Boot, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said. I meant every word of what I said back there—you’re a survivor. All I saw tonight is that you are a brave and intelligent woman who just so happens to have a scumbag of an ex-boyfriend. Don’t let it define you because then he wins. You’re a great cop, (Y/l/n). It’s rookies like you who make the force as strong as it is.”

     You listened to Tim speak. He sounded so…passionate. Bishop’s words came back to you.

     Tim might like you more than he’s willing to let you—or himself—in on.

     You desperately wanted that to be true, now more than ever. He’d been so kind to you in this past hour—staying with you, rescuing you, reassuring you, bringing you back from whatever dark place you had just been in. 

     And then this. Talking about you like he…like he really cared about you. And maybe it was just because he felt like as your training 

Officer he had to protect you. But in the moment, it felt like maybe it could be more than that. 

    “So what I’m hearing is, I’m getting a promotion?” You teased finally, brushing your hair back from your damp face, breaking the silence. 

     Bradford put up a hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, you still have a lot to learn from me.”

     You sighed. This was normal, this was comfortable. How you and Tim always acted with each other. You were both relieved and disappointed at the change back into familiar territory. 

     You ran a hand through your hair, stifling a yawn. Saying today had been a long day would’ve been the understatement of the century.

     “Now come on,” Tim flicked his head in the direction of the door. “It’s way past my bedtime.”

     “Let me guess, nine p.m. sharp every night?” You teased.

     “That’s not true.”

     You raised an eyebrow at him.

     “Nine-thirty,” he admitted. 

     You giggled, following Tim out of the bathroom and into the hallway which led to the living room.

     You glanced at your bedroom as you passed it, trying not to think about what had happened in there. It was over now, you told yourself. 

     “Since my room is kind of a crime scene, I guess we’re both crashing out here,” you sighed, gesturing to the couch. 

      Silence filled the room and you immediately realized your mistake, cheeks flaming. 

     “Or, right, I guess you can go now. Danger’s over.”

     “Are you kidding?” Tim said. “And get to bed even later? I’m not going anywhere.”

     You stepped into the living room. You were glad Tim was staying. You felt safer with him here, even though you knew it was irrational. 

     “I’ll get the blankets and stuff,” you said, turning back the way you’d came.

     “Let me go with you,” Tim offered.

     “I would but they’re in the closet and I don’t want it to trap you or something,” you said. 

     “You think I can’t take a closet full of your crap? Bring it on,” Tim challenged and you led him down the hall. 

     A few minutes later you returned to the living room, blankets and pillows in tow. Tim helped you pull out the couch bed—you were grateful you’d opted for this couch instead of a regular one—and you stood back, admiring your work. 

     “Take the couch,” you told him. “It was your bed originally.”

     “Not gonna happen.” Tim crossed his arms. “It’s your house. And you’re injured.”

     “I’m fine. And where are you going to sleep? The floor?” You asked him. 

     Tim scanned the room and then sat down on the chair across from the couch-turned-bed. 

     “Are you sure you’re ok on that?” You asked. It didn’t exactly look comfortable for spending hours on.

     “Trust me, Boot, you got the short end of the stick. Have fun sleeping on plywood.” 

      You smiled. “So, what, you’re just going to sit over there and watch me sleep?”

     “I can leave, if you’re—”

     “No,” you’re voice came out faster and more sharp than you’d intended. “I mean, you came all this way, I don’t want you to have to get an Uber home at this hour.”

     You climbed into bed, aware that you were still in your clothes, but not caring enough to change. 

     “We should get some sleep, it’s been a long night,” Tim sighed. He got up and turned the lights off, darkness filling the room. 

     “Damn, boot,” you heard Tim’s voice even though you couldn’t see him anymore. “It’s pitch black in here. You don’t sleep with a light or anything?”

     “Well I don’t usually sleep in my living room,” you pointed out. Then you stifled a laugh. “Wait a minute. Is Officer Tim Bradford afraid of the dark?”

     Tim scoffed. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

     “Your secret’s safe with me,” you teased.

     “There is no secret,” Tim shot back.

     You winked. “Exactly.”

     “You’re impossible.”

     “Thank you.” You smiled.

     The room fell silent. You heard him sit back down. 

     You laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The seconds ticked by. 

    “Do you—do you think he really would’ve shot me?” You asked, finally.

     “I don’t know,” Tim admitted. “He clearly thought you guys had unfinished business. But guys like that get high on fear—on desperation. He couldn’t have that if you were dead. In his mind, he’d be losing his power over you.”

     He paused. 

     “Besides, I don’t think he would’ve gotten the chance,” Tim said. “He clearly underestimated the badass-ness of his opponent.”

     You snorted. “Did you just say ‘badass-ness’?”

     “It’s a word!” Tim defended. 

     You laughed, turning over on your side. 

     “But seriously, if you ever need anything, you can always talk to me,” Tim said, sounding earnest. “I mean it.”

     “I may just take you up on that,” you responded. “Do you tell that to all your rookies?”

     You could barely make out Tim’s frame in the dark. “No, not all of them.”

     “I’m going to take that as I’m special,” you said. 

     Your next words were out of your mouth before you could stop them.   

    “You know, Lopez and Bishop had this crazy idea that you had feelings for me,” you said, staring up at the ceiling. “But I told them it was just that—crazy.”

     Tim didn’t speak.

     “It is crazy right?” You asked. You had to know. He still was silent. “Right?”

     “Boot, look—” Bradford started. His voice came out rough, as if he hadn’t talked in days. Your heartbeat was a deafening roar in your ears. 

     “Tim?”

     You could hear more than see Tim’s movements. He stood, pacing the length of the room. Sat back down. Stood up again. Sat. 

     “Dammit, Boot, I can’t do this,” he finished. “I can’t do this right now, (Y/n).”

     Your pulse quickened. He hadn’t denied it. 

     You stood up. 

     And maybe it was having to deny your attraction to your TO for seven months. Maybe it was the adrenaline still coursing through your veins from the attack earlier. Maybe it was because the darkness felt safe and secret—made you feel like you could do anything. Maybe you were just too eager after his small encouragement—or, lack of discouragement.

     But, whatever the reason, you walked over to where Tim sat, kneeled down, looked into his confused, strained eyes, and kissed him. 

     Tim froze, his lips still against yours. And then, almost as if he was afraid you would vanish or startle, he placed his hand gingerly on your waist, and leaned into the kiss.

     And he was kissing you back. Tim Bradford was kissing you back. 

     His free hand went to your hair, deepening the kiss as he gripped you closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting a lifetime.

     It was desperate and raw and passionate—it was perfect.

     You broke apart, both gasping for breath.       

     “Listen, Boot,” Tim started. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “You’ve had a long and confusing day—”

     You interrupted him. “Yeah. Yeah, I have. But I’m not confused about this.”

     You brought your lips to his again. This time he didn’t hold back. He pulled you closer to him and you felt the warmth of him through his shirt. 

     When you came apart again, he was smiling. 

     “Well, I guess I can check thinking that you hate me off my daily checklist,” you whispered. 

     “I don’t hate you, Boot,” Tim said. “I actually hate how much I don’t hate you.”

     You studied the planes of his face, the light from the hallway illuminating his eyes. His lips. His jawline.

     “Boot—”

     “If you’re going to say that this is a bad idea, I don’t want to hear it. Not tonight,” you said. 

     “I thought that was obvious.” Tim stated matter-of-factly. “I was going to say actually I’d appreciate it if you did turn on a lamp or something, because—”

     You laughed, kissing him again. 

     “But seriously,” Tim continued. “You know we can’t do this.”

     “Why not?” You pouted. “If it’s what we both want.”

     “It’s not about what we want—we could be putting both of our careers in jeopardy.”

     You knew he was right. Of course he was right. 

     “But is it—what you want?” 

     “God yes,” Tim blurted, standing up, his voice strained. “It’s what I’ve wanted from the moment I started training you. Do you know how hard it’s been trying to put distance between us and deny every damn thing when all I wanted to do was—”

     He broke off, running a hand along his hair. 

     “Then do it.” Your heart pounded in your chest. “You’ll only be my TO for a few more months, we’ll just keep it a secret until then. No one has to know.”

     Tim looked at you. 

     “Ok you’re right, Bishop and Lopez will totally know something’s up,” you admitted.

     “I guess I’ll just have to transfer,” Tim joked.

     “What happened to ‘Tim Bradford finished what he starts’?” You asked.

     “Oh I intend to do just that,” Tim whispered. “Are we really thinking about doing this?”

     You thought about the consequences you could face—Tim could face—if it got out that you and your training officer were romantically involved. You knew it would be a huge risk—one that could get you cut from the program.

     You looked at Tim. He was watching you like he never wanted to let you go again. You thought about how long you’d wanted this, even if you didn’t fully know it until tonight.

     And the decision seemed clear.

     “Yeah,” you beamed. “Yeah I think we are.”

     He cupped your face in his hand, his fingers warm against the back of your neck. Your eyes closed against his touch. You felt comfort for the first time in hours.

     “You need rest,” Tim whispered and your eyes fluttered open. “As much as I’d love to do this all night.”

     You nodded, backing up towards your bed. Tim ran a hand through his hair again and then sat back down in the armchair.

    “What’re you doing?” You asked him.

    “Going to bed,” Tim answered, as if it was obvious. 

    “Get over here,” you gestured, rolling your eyes at him.

    “I was hoping you’d say that,” Tim smiled. 

     You climbed into bed beside him, pulling the covers over both of you.

     You lay your head on Bradfords chest. You could feel his heartbeat in your ear as you closed your eyes.     

    “You know, this will kind of be like doing undercover work—minus the threat of getting killed,” you said. 

     “I don’t know about that—I wouldn’t put anything past an angry Sergeant Grey.”

     “We’ll just have to be so in-character that we never find out,” you said. 

     “I’ll make sure to be extra tough on you next shift,” Tim agreed. 

     “And that’s different from any other day how?” You shot back, sitting up. 

     “Hey, training rookies is a sacred duty and I take that very seriously. If you think I’m going to throw your education out the window simply because—”

     You shut him up by pressing your lips to his. You echoed his earlier words. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

     Tim shook is head slightly, eyes roaming over your face. 

     “What?” You asked.

     “You’re so beautiful, (Y/n),” Tim breathed. “I’m so glad I can finally tell you that.”

     “Me too,” you said. “Even if it took…this for it to happen.”

     “Speaking of which, maybe I’ll take a sick day tomorrow,” Tim said. “Since there’s no way Grey—or myself—is letting you go to work. What’d you say?”

     You wanted to fight him, say you were fine and you could make it to your shift the next day. But the promise of taking a sick day with Tim was to tempting to pass up. 

     “I say I’m glad your house is being repainted,” you teased. “Because then you’ll have to stay with me.”

     Tim smiled knowingly. “My house isn’t being repainted, Boot. And I’m all yours.”

     You grinned, laying back down and resting your head back against Tim. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

     You felt safe, protected in his arms. 

     The rest would come. Dealing with what had happened tonight. Starting your secret relationship with Tim. Eventually facing everyone at work who had heard the news and would want to ask if you were ok. And you would be ok.

     But for now, this was enough. He was enough. 

     “Tim?” You whispered.

     “Hmm?”

     You struggled for words to fit the gravity of what you were feeling for him. “Thanks for…everything.”

     “What are TOs for,” Tim shrugged. 

     “Apparently keeping the night light business afloat.” You giggled at the look on Bradford’s face. 

     “Shut it, Boot.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed loves!! i’m so down bad for tim it’s not even funny 😵‍💫

[thewitchblue]

"Why'd he send you?"

Bruce asked bluntly, his Batman suit on with his gaggle of children evasdropping in the background not-so-subtly. I quirked an unamused eyebrow at the bulky man in front of me.

"It just so happens that I owed Constantine a favour. Do you want my help, or do you want to deal with your little demon friend all by yourself?"

Batman huffs an amused laugh. This is the best demonologist Constantine claims in the world? Red Robin asked Nightwing in a mutter,

"I'm not seeing things, am I?"

Apparently, he didn't think I'd hear him. I smirked as I turned my attention to the older Robin. He nervously shifted his weight when my intense gaze watches him, before becoming a bit panicked once he realized he physically cannot move away from me as I approach. I eye him up-and-down with appreciation before saying,

"You're cute, Little Red. Let's get coffee sometime. After I banish this fucker, of course."

This seemed to surprise everyone in the cave, but my focus was back to the demon Batman managed to get an attachment to.

"Now, how did you manage to get this fucker attached to you? Were you feeling especially lonely and struck a deal?"

I eye Batman curiously. Red Hood chuckles in amusement, but I choose to ignore him. There is a weird tension in the room when Red Hood and Batman make eye contact, so I clear my throat loudly to draw attention back to me as I study the cage that the demon is currently trapped in it. He managed to isolate and contain the demon, so that's a start. He sighs and explains,

"No, I'm not lonely enough to stoop so low."

I give an acknowledging hum. My eyes stay trained on the demon. It was rattling the cage it was imprisoned in, hissing and cursing at me while I approach it.

"Let's just ask the demon then, shall we?"

I stop in front of the demon and ask it,

"Now, what deal did you two make?"

The demon merely growled in response. I growl back at it, reaching into its body and squeezing its heart until it whimpered. I hiss,

"Answer me."

Its gravelly voice said,

"I was promised a new body by an alternative Batman. Clearly, I made a wrong turn."

I purred as I released my grip,

"Good boy."

Batman frowned in thought, but stayed silent by my side. He seemed to already have an idea of who struck the deal.

"Now, which Batman promised you this wanker?"

The demon snarls,

"He goes by Owlman. He merely promised me a Batman."

I give a thoughtful hum as I fully remove my hand from its heart, wiping off the dark blood from my hand.

"Well, that turned out swimmingly for you, didn't it?"

It snarled in response to my false sympathy. Red Hood snorts at my antics. He seemed to be entertained by the entire situation.

"Well, it appears your little deal wasn't fully thought out. I'm sending you back. Next time, possess Owlman instead."

I murmur my spell softly to myself before snapping in a particular pattern. The demon howled before it dissipates like mere smoke. I crack my knuckles nervously before turning back to the Batfamily and saying,

"If you need my services again, ask Little Red over there. He has my number."

Red Robin looked confused until he reached into his pocket and felt the slip of paper I planted on him. He pulls the slip of paper out of his pocket to the dismay of everyone in the cave. I send a wink his way once his disbelieving eyes turn back to me.

With a wave of my hand, I disappear from their cave before anyone could reply. Truthfully, I was a tad nervous to hear his reply. I'm still rusty when dealing with the living after spending so many years trapped in a metaphorical cage with anti-magic wards. Before John saved my sorry arse, I was entrapped for pissing off the wrong crowd.

I have much more experience with the dead and celestial as a result. They are a lot easier to figure out and handle than regular human beings.

Tim had never been more conflicted. Granted, he didn't have anyone who showed genuinely interest in him like this demon hunter. He had to applaud the flawless effort.

"Aww, you two would be so cute!"

Dick said with an encouraging grin. Dick, of course, was excited and happy for his brother. He wraps an arm around him in a side hug before letting go and saying,

"You should reach out! The chemistry between you two reminds me of myself and Starfire."

Jason rolls his eyes and fakes gags at Dick's brotherly excitement. Despite his annoyed exterior, he still defends Tim,

"You care too much, Grayson. Let my replacement come to his own decisions."

Tim gives a shy smile. The demonologist was rather cute and he appreciates the boldness and the stealth it took to even slip the note in his pocket. He softly says,

"Maybe I will."

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello, hope you are having a good day/night?

I was wondering if I could request something where Joker uses Jason Todd's DNA to create a child (male) and raises him. What would happen when Jason finds out he not only has a kid but the kid been being raised by Joker the man who tortured and killed him!

And how will Bruce react to seeing Jason's son and how much he looks like his dad?

Platonic batfam x kid reader

Headcanons

I’m still right in the middle of exam season right now, which is why I haven’t been writing much.

Like I said, you are a redheaded kid, because I love redhead Jason too much not to add it. Joker being the joker would most likely make you color your hair black though, just like Jason did when he was robin.

If Joker got Jasons DNA when he killed him, then you would be around 8, as Jason died at 15 and is 23 nowadays (I got this age from the dc twitter account), and because of Jasons genes you are most likely a small and skinny kid.

The smallness most likely also comes from the fact that Joker is the one raising you, alongside Harley if they are still together at that point.

Raising you is a very loose word, Joker does not have a parental bone in his body, and only clones you to taunt the bats. So, he is nowhere near a good parent and treats you like an extension of the Robin he killed.

This would lead to a lot of mistreatments, because it’s the Joker, what do you expect. Both mental and physical abuse would be present in your life, as the Joker wouldn’t feel any love or care for you as a person.

Because of this you wouldn’t be going to school either, but you are smart, so you teach yourself how to read and write, and you’ll have to learn math and the likes to be able to use some weapons to their full potential.

Instead of being allowed to be a child your only purpose to exist is to be a tool to taunt the bats, so you most likely wouldn’t be given a name either and would just be called Robin by Joker and anyone else who knows you exist.

Being “raised” by joker also means your morals are very skewed, and you have no problem with murder or torture, but what do you expect from someone like the joker.

The bats would learn about your existence during one of the Jokers latest plans. It would be during one of his more crazy ideas, you know, with a lot of hostages and a lot at risk.

I can imagine two scenarios. The Joker either tying you up and posing you bruised up and bloody whilst wearing the Robin outfit, to taunt Batman.

Or you are being used as a surprise attack when they get a little too close to catching the Joker. Joker of course wouldn’t care about your wellbeing besides being a tool for him, so if you get shot or break bones he doesn’t care.

They would of course all be shocked and shaken at seeing an 8-year-old kid wearing Jason’s robin outfit there, and especially with how little care you show about yourself and your own wellbeing.

Joker would whisk you away at the last moment, though not without you being hurt during the fighting, because he still has plans on using you to harm the bats, especially batman and red hood.

The batfam would panic at the knowledge that Joker has a child that hes using for his evil plans, they have no idea you are Jason’s clone yet, but they still want to rescue you.

They can only assume you’ve been trained since birth, with how skilled you are, which makes them all emotional. Especially the likes of Damian and Cass, since they were trained from infancy as well.

They would immediately start searching lost child cases for anyone fitting your description but come up empty handed because you are a clone.

After this encounter the Joker would use you in his plans more and more, because he gets great joy from seeing how desperate the batfam is to figure out who you are or to save you.

You’ve never felt kindness before and have never been your own person though, so you don’t trust them and just do whatever the Joker orders you to do, putting yourself in life and death situations more than once.

Bruce would be heartbroken with how familiar you look in your robin outfit, as you are a complete copy of how Jason looked back then. Dick and Jason, and maybe Tim, would be the only ones able to recognize your appearance, which would make them all want to save you even more.

After finally getting your blood and/or DNA to test after another deadly situation you’ve put yourself in, they take it back to the cave to test, where they learn your relation to Jason.

To say the batfam would all be shaken and enraged by the discovery would be an understatement. They’re shaken at the fact that Joker has had a child grown from Jasons DNA for who knows how long, and would be enraged at the fact that Jasons DNA was used and that you’ve obviously been abused this entire time.

They buckle down even more to get you to their side and make you come with them willingly, and it works in their favor as the Joker has become more lax with your reigns. It seems he’s growing bored of using the same thing over and over again, so he’s kinda just letting you run freely as he comes up with new plans.

It would start with Jason or Tim, or maybe even Cass, who would be able to get closer to you. They wouldn’t push to get you to come with them, and just get you to be used to their presence instead of immediately seeing them as a threat.

They know this is a slow process and that they can’t rush it, since you would run at the first sign of them trying to snatch you up.

As this is happening Jason can be caught reading parenting books, things about child psychology and the affects of child abuse. He already knew all of this, but he keeps refreshing it for when they get you to trust them.

Bruce would be going through a grieving process again, as you are a direct result of him failing Jason. But this time he would have a larger support system which would stop him from spiraling like last time.

Over time you get used to the presence of the batfam when you are on your own, they bring you meals or stuff to drink. Of course, you don’t trust it in the beginning, knowing they could be drugging you, but as time passes you start to eat with them.

At some point, Damian would end up telling you about his own childhood and how wrong it was, and that he didn’t deserve that abuse, and neither do you.

That would be what starts to make you understand that the Joker isn’t a good guardian and that you may be worth more than he says you are.

They don’t get much further though, as the Joker has gotten bored of you and the purpose you were supposed to serve, so he wants to get rid of you. He would try to recreate the day he killed Jason, with the crowbar and everything.

Bruce is the one to save you before you get blown up though, Bruce almost in a frenzy to not lose another kid that way every again. You would be bruised and battered with broken bones and a concussion, but you would be alive.

They would bring you to a doctor or healer, probably a league one for identity reasons, and the fact that they could use magic to heal you faster.

Jason wouldn’t leave you alone as you are unconscious for days, the batfam would stick close by but also be working hard on cracking down on the Joker and destroying whatever he has left of his cloning experiments.

After you wake up, a lot of time would be used introducing you to the life of a normal child, and helping you heal both mentally and physically.

Thankfully they have a lot of experienced with helping kids who were raised to be weapons, with Cass and Damian and the likes, so they know what to do for the most part.

Jason never thought he would be a dad, especially not with how young he is, but he takes to it like a duck to water. Hes always had a soft spot for kids, and maybe in the back of his mind always wanted a kid of his own, so you help him settle in a way he didn’t know he could.

They all joke about Bruce spoiling you, because you are like a mix of Cass, Damian and Jason, and that Bruce’s fatherly urges can’t be stopped. It isn’t a joke though, after you learn to have your own opinions and wants, Bruce would bend over backwards for you like he would for any of his kids.

The first time you call Jason dad, he has to choke back tears, because he never thought you’d see him as your dad or accept him. You two go out to bat burger to celebrate.

They of course make up legal papers for you as well so you can start going to school after healing mentally and physically. They wouldn’t allow you to run around at night with them for a while either, as they want you to find who you are before you decide to be a hero or not.

And whether you decide to be a vigilante or just a civilian, they support you the entire way. Even if you pick to be a hero, they’d still be overprotective since you are the youngest, much to your annoyance, but you know its cuz they love you.

They all love you, and you love them. And if you choose to be a hero and base your outfit around your dads and it makes him cry, who will catch him with the helmet on. The other heroes think you are adorable too. You have youngest child privilege in the hero world, learn to wield it.

[paradiseprincesss]

need a jonathan story where reader is bruce wayne's sister with similar morals about fixing gotham so she's a psychiatrist at arkham. her and jonathan butt heads a lot as she doesn't like how inhuman he is to his patients (he has a secret obsession with her). however she starts getting in the way of his plans and que the "this is where we make the medicine" scene. batman comes to save her and even though jonathan is high on fear he hears batman call reader his sister, so he plans to kidnap and/or blackmail the reader. Can be pure dark or dark with a change of heart?

love your work, but you already know that xoxo

all your fears are interwoven | jonathan crane

materlist

this is dark which i dont usually write so please...bare with me okay? IM SORRY IF THIS ISN'T GREAT LMFAO !! trying to write dark for u pookie <333

summary: you're a psychiatrist in the first year of your residency at arkham, working alongside doctor jonathan crane himself. however, you two are constantly butting heads due to your different beliefs in the treatment of your patients, amongst other things. one day, jonathan finds out that your the little sister of the batman himself - and he decides to act out on every sinister thought he's ever had about you.

word count: 3k

warnings: [NON-CON], 18+ mdni, smut, dark as hell, p in v, forced breeding, kidnapping, stalking, obsession, literally just all around terrible, terrible things

"it's inhumane," you argued, "no wonder your patients are terrified of you."

"because i don't feed into their delusions and paranoia?" jonathan scoffed, "i keep them medicated because they're mentally ill. if you haven't noticed, were in an asylum for the criminally insane."

"see, that the problem when it comes to you! you're not treating them like people, but rather prisoners." you sneer, rolling your eyes at his distasteful way of speaking about his patients.

for a moment, he's silent. he doesn't say a word, but you can tell you've hit a nerve with the way he physically reacts. his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrow at you, and he takes a short but sharp breath through his nose to try and appear composed.

"i have something i'd like you to see," he says calmly, "i think it'll help you understand my 'unorthodox' methods, as you like to call it."

you were a new grad from gotham university, specifically from their medical department. you'd graduated top of your class in medical school, and you'd matched in psychiatry for your residency. hence why you were working alongside doctor jonathan crane - the renown psychiatrist of gotham city himself.

when you first met him, he was cold towards you - and nothing changed. even a year into your residency, he was still cruel towards you. actually, that's a lie because he seemed to hate you even more than he did before. you two butted heads constantly over anything and everything under the sun. you thought he was heartless, but he thought you were too cynical. you believed his methods were 'unorthodox' as you liked to say, but he thought your methods were mind-numbingly boring. you two clashed in every possible way.

nobody liked working with him. you knew that already, though. it didn't take long for you to figure out why after you first started, as for starters, none of his employees hid their distaste towards him, and he didn't hide how much he disliked them back. he often called the other nurses, doctors, or medical professionals working there an array of insulting things, including but not limited to: imbecile, idiot, braindead, and painfully stupid. that was actually a few of the nicer things he called people - we don't talk about what he's called you.

you contemplated switching over to a different speciality because of jonathan crane many times, as working with him was exhausting. you still had three years of your residency and training left! how were you supposed to stand three more years with him? your brother, bruce wayne, always listened to you vent about jonathan - he didn't like him either. he always said that man was up to something, and he didn't know what but that it was bad news.

"are you incapable of forming a proper response, doctor wayne?" jonathan sneered, bringing you out of your thoughts, "you really are dense. the fucking lights are on but clearly no one's home."

"what are you, twelve?" you bark back, "i don't fucking-"

"i'm working on a new psychopharmacological drug," he cuts you off with a smirk, "i know, you're too stupid to understand anything about medication-"

"i went to the same medical school you did, jonathan." you retaliate, but he pays no mind to your words.

"like i said, i know you're too dumb to understand such complex specialities such as internal medicine and psychopharmacology, but i think it's something you'd benefit from learning about." he explained flatly.

as much as you wanted to punch him in his face, he had a point. you weren't dumb by any accounts, you were probably just as smart, if not smarter than him. however, as a training physician in her residency, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to get some hands on training in prescribing and dosages for mentally ill patients. it would help you in your career, to be fair.

"...fine," you huff, "tell me about it."

"this way, please." he says, ushering you to follow him into the elevator.

with annoyance, you follow him silently, not wanting to talk to him or give him any form of a verbal response at all. jonathan looked at you with a hunger in his eyes; unbeknownst to you, the brilliant but sociopathic psychiatrist had a deep, twisted, and disturbing obsession with you. he had your pictures plastered on the walls of his house. he knew where you lived as he'd broken in a few times unnoticed, and he knew pretty much everything about you - down to the smallest details.

for someone as brilliant as him, he had yet to figure out you were bruce wayne's sister, though. he knew your last name was wayne, but he didn't really put two and two together because he didn't expect you to be the sister of bruce wayne himself.

once you two reached the basement of the asylum, he led you through a series of dark, eerie hallways and you made note to shoot your brother a text about how crane was being extra strange and creepy at work today. in an attempt to slip away from jonathan, you clear your throat and try to come up with a feasible excuse.

"um, doctor crane," you say to him, your tone starting to become shaky, "i-i'm not feeling too well, i think i'm going to go back to my office to grab some advil."

the trembling of your voice doesn't go unnoticed by jonathan, and he knew that you knew where this was going. he grabs your arm harshly, and drags you through a door in which you're met with a distressing sight - multiple inmates of arkham mixing up chemicals in a makeshift lab, and pouring the liquids into what appeared to be a sewerage of some sort that seemed to leak into gotham city's plumbing and piping.

as your eyes were fixated on the scene in front of you, you failed to notice jonathan putting on his scarecrow mask and when you did - it was too late. a white, potent gas was sprayed in your face, and you immediately started to gag and cough on it as it felt like you were suffocating from the inside out. your lungs started to burn and your head was clouded, along with your vision.

"awe, having trouble?" he cooed as he grabbed you by the neck, choking you harshly.

before you could even formulate a response, a loud bang echoed in the lab. jonathan released his grip on your neck instantly, and though all your senses were disturbed, you could still articulate a few of his words through your current state. he said something about "the batman," and you knew that bruce was here to rescue you. internally, you thanked every higher power you could think of for having your brother come to your rescue.

not long after you heard jonathan say that, you looked up from the ground to see bruce with his hands gripped on jonathans face, his pale blue eyes widened and crazed. it appeared that bruce - the batman - had sprayed crane with whatever he had sprayed you with, and he was definitely seeing some shit while on his own drugs.

bruce's words were unintelligible at this point as you were just as drugged up as jonathan was, but you managed to hear jonathans voice meekly say something along the lines of "she's your sister?" bruce threw jonathan onto the ground, and the sound of police sirens could be heard in the background before your words were starting to become heavily slurred, and finally, your vision went black.

as your eyes fluttered open, you noticed that you were back inside of your own apartment. as your vision adjusted to the light, you noticed bruce calling your name softly as you sat up on your bed groggily.

"you're awake," he said quietly, coming over to sit on the edge of your bed, "how are you feeling?"

"what happened?" you ask as your head started to spin.

"long story," he sighed, "but i've been looking into crane for a while - all his experiments on his patients and such. it's inhumane, like you said, but it turns out he's been slowly trying to poison gotham city as a whole."

"what?" you say with surprise, "wait, i...what?"

"gordon had him arrested," he explained, "he had him locked up in arkham, but there was a mass escape. he's on the loose again."

everything that bruce was telling you was making you sick - what did he mean jonathan was just prowling around the city again?! with a deep breath, you look down and shake your head, tears welling in your eyes.

"i don't understand..." you whisper, and bruce reaches a hand out to your shoulder.

"i think you should stay at wayne manor for a while," he says softly, "it's safer for you there, i don't want you to be alone in your apartment."

"yeah, i think so too." you agreed.

"great," he says, "i'll grab us some food, and then we can start packing and head over to mine. sound good?"

"okay, can we get takeout from that chinese place i like?" you ask with a soft smile, and your brother nods.

"yeah, i'll go pick it up right now. do you think you'll be okay for about half an hour alone? maybe we should just head to mine first..." he says, looking at you with concern.

"bruce," you say softly, "i'll be okay. the sun is still out, it's like, mid-day still. don't worry."

it takes some convincing, but bruce eventually agrees and leaves to go pick up the takeout a few blocks down from your place. after a few minutes, you hear your door being unlocked. you get up from your bed inquisitively, unsure as to why bruce was back so soon. knowing him, he probably forgot his wallet or something. however, once you entered your living room, you were met with a sight that made your heart drop.

jonathan crane himself, standing there in your living room, with his scarecrow mask on. his unsettling but strikingly blue eyes met with yours as he looked at you through the small cutouts of his mask, and he smirked to himself.

"are you feeling alright?" he asked with a sickeningly sweet tone, "i'm sure my fear toxin had you feeling quite...disoriented."

you stagger backwards, gripping onto your bedroom doorframe as fear consumed you once more. you swallowed hard, and continued to backup as he stepped forward menacingly.

"m-my brother is going to be home soon." you whimper.

"oh, batman?" he chuckles lowly, his voice seemingly distorted with his mask, "i wouldn't be too sure of that, sweetheart. i thought i heard him say he was going to be at least half an hour."

your mind went stagnant as he told you that, and you wondered with panic on how he would know that information. jonathan seemed to have picked up on what you were thinking, as he took a step closer and lifted his wrist up to show that he had some sort of contraption that could gas you with his so called "fear toxin" at any given moment.

"you really are brainless, aren't you, sweetheart?" he cooed, "silly girl, i can't believe you didn't notice all the little cameras and recording devices i've been planting in your home."

"wh-what cameras?" you say as you felt tears run down your cheeks out of sheer panic and fear.

"i've been breaking in for months, i can't believe you haven't noticed," he snickered, getting closer and closer to you, "i want you so bad, sweetheart. and to think, i almost had you before the batman had to come and ruin things for me."

"please," you whimper, "don't...d-don't hurt me."

"don't give me a reason to." he shrugged, before lunging at you and pinning you against the wall with his hands wrapped around your neck. "it'll be easier if you don't struggle. otherwise, i might have to dose you with my medicine again."

"please, n-no-" you gasp, as his hands tightened around your neck.

"maybe i will, you look so beautiful when your fears are interweaving themselves with your reality. isn't the nightmare just to die for?" he asked dramatically, before throwing you onto your own bed harshly.

your lack of response must have set him off, though, because he decided to harshly grab at your hair. he cranked your head back so roughly that you could feel the strain in your neck, and you would rather he just strangulate you right now rather than put you through whatever he was about to.

"say you love it," he growled, "say you love me."

"f-fuck, no." you weakly whined, and he was lifting his other hand up before you started talking again, "i-i'm sorry, yes - i love you!"

you immediately rushed your words out, even if they were forced and untrue, because you really didn't want to be dosed with his fear toxin once more. the effects were worse than any fucked up nightmare you'd ever had.

"good girl," he cooed as he started to forcefully undress you, making you choke back a sob, "ugh, i can't wait to absolutely fucking ruin you."

the smell of his cologne flooded your senses, and you felt more tears drip down your face as he continued to undress you with zero resistance. you tried to tell yourself that maybe you were just having a nightmare, a side effect from the drugs - but you knew that wasn't true. bruce wouldn't be back for at least another half hour, giving jonathan free range to do whatever he wanted to you.

you had zoned out so deeply to cope that when you finally stopped dissociating, he was already fumbling with his belt buckle. as you tried to grab his wrist to force him away from you, the pressure from your hand accidentally triggered his wrist band to spray his fear toxin directly at you. you choked and sobbed as you heard him chuckle lowly through his mask, and at this point - you'd given up.

you stopped trying to fight it because it was no use. he had already won. his fear toxin was seeping into your every sense. the fears that were interwoven in your subconscious were now playing out right in front of you. it was like watching your worst nightmare, only fifty times worse, on repeat. at this point, you thought you were going to lose your sanity permanently.

jonathan had pulled your panties off of you with ease, as you were too high on the toxin to even understand what was going on in this very moment anymore.

the less you fought, the better.

with a groan, he forced himself into your cunt, breeching your hole painfully. obviously, there was a struggle because one, you weren't even in contact with reality right now and two, he was forcing himself onto you.

he spat down onto your cunt after a few moments, and that seemed to work. he let himself sink into you slowly, stretching you out painfully as you laid there in tears, unintelligibly whispering and pleading. he didn't bother to prep you or even try to make this enjoyable for you, since it was never really about you in the first place. it was about him; his pleasure and sick, disgusting, twisted obsession with you.

"fuck," he groaned, "you're so tight i think i might fucking break you, sweetheart."

he continued to fuck himself in and out of you, his length reaching places inside of you that shouldn't be reached. you couldn't tell which one was worse: the terrifying nightmares being fuelled in front of you or the pain in your lower region from his fat, veiny cock breaking your cunt in.

the tears never stopped, continuously pouring down your face as you tried to beg him to stop - but the words never came out. they couldn't. you were starting to feel every ounce of sanity you had left slip away from your body, leaving you in a permanent state of living hell.

"it's a concentrated - mm, f-fuck,- dose, my love. you're slipping away, i can feel it in the way your squeezing me." he groaned as he continued to split you open on his cock, rocking his hips back and forth as he held your waist still with an iron grip.

"s-stop." you weakly whispered, but he laughed lowly at the sad attempt.

you knew that you'd never recover from this, whether it be the assault or the effects of the fear toxin - both were things that would cause you to never live a normal life again.

"m'gonna take you away from here," he huffed, already close, "shit, you feel good- gonna fuck you every god damn day and fill you with my cum 'till you have my babies. keep giving you my cum over and over again."

that almost sounded worse than the disturbing, mind-rotting imagines that were flashing before your eyes right now from the toxin. you couldn't imagine a life that hellish - but you couldn't exactly object with the state you were in.

"don't worry," he says as he kept talking to you, "you're not going insane, sweetheart. fuck - like i said; it's a concentrated dose. you'll be back to your stuck up, whorish, braindead self in about twenty four hours."

twenty four hours? how were you suppose to survive for twenty four hours like this? how? you didn't know, but jonathan didn't seem to care. he did not care at all - all he cared about was kidnapping you and stuffing you full of his cum. all he craved for months was to give you his babies. get you nice and full, pregnant by him.

you didn't even notice when his hips stilled and his cum poured into your abused cunt, filling you with every drop he had. he let out a satisfied groan, and hesitantly, he pulled out.

you lay there as still as ever, tears still pouring down your face as you tried to remind yourself that the shadows, the whispers, and whatever other hellish things you were hallucinating were not real. jonathan then threw your pyajamas back on you in a hurry, and picked you up bridal style.

"c'mon," he says softly, as if he cared about you - as if you liked this, "let's go home."

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[menacing-menace-rat]

Can I get platonic yandere headcanons for all of the founding members of the Justice League?

I definitely can! Also sorry it took me so long to get to this. I'm still learning about how the inbox stuff works.

I'm going to have to make this in parts because it's alot to look at with all 7 members. This is part 1 of ?

I'm gonna use the founding members from the animated universe. More members and I love Martian Manhunter. If you were looking for the Snyder universe let me know and I'll edit the post and add Cyborg for you. 🤗

Warnings: kidnapping, gaslighting, obsessive behavior, general yandere creep stuff.

Platonic yandere justice league members part 1

Superman

You were a scientist at LexCorp

After some questionable experiments you knew you had to blow the whistle

So you went to the Daily Planet.

That's where it all stared.

So smart with a kind heart, how could he not protect you?

He's deluded himself completely.

He can't see how he can be the villain in anyone's story let alone yours.

He's very aware of his own strength thankfully.

You are more of a risk to yourself than he is. At least physically 👀

You'd be moved to a farmhouse almost right away.

When it comes to kidnapping you, he has no self control, it's near instant.

he knows how fragile humans are and he refuses to take any chances.

No matter how much you pleaded with him it was no use.

He was the only one who could help you and stop Lex.

This man has a scary amount of patience. No amount of hitting or screaming is going to set him off.

He will subconsciously prolong any solution that would make Lex and his people less of a threat to you.

He'd insist on sharing a bed. If he was anyone else you'd be worried he would try something.

If he wanted that kind of thing from you, you knew he could just make you.

So you were pretty sure whatever this was it was at least a platonic infatuation.

At night he'd hold you so tight it was difficult to move.

A physical reminder of what you already felt inside, trapped.

There was no escaping that farm. Anywhere in the city he could hear you.

He'd hear the front door open or your panting as you tried to run for the nearest road.

He wouldn't allow any kind of phones or computers in the house.

Why would he? Need help? He'll be there faster than any cop. You are lonely? That's fine he'd love to have hour long talks about anything you want.

Batman

Your best bet is to play along for years maybe. How ever long it takes for him to maybe let you make a grocery run alone.

He found you on the streets. Maybe it was your sad eyes or your dirty face but he knew he had to take you in.

He'd tell himself he could help you learn to fight. That you'd make a great Robin.

Deep down he knew he'd never let you fight in any way.

He's not like Superman. He knows how much he cares for you is unhealthy. He knows it's wrong to take you in and effectively trap you in a huge manor but what else can he do?

He is a world class manipulator. He also has far less patience then Superman.

Too many escape attempts and he's going to make a plan.

He'd go as far as to allow you to "escape". Only to orchestrate some horrible traumatic event so he can find you and save you all over again.

Depending on how strong willed you were the worst it would be.

It was twisted and horrible but he almost craved reassuring you.

He loved your tears so long as they weren't for a real reason.

Bruce kept a tight lid on his emotions. You'd never see him lose it. He'd never show he was upset with you.

Despite this being a very unconventional child/parent relationship his go to punishment is normally grounding and lost of privileges.

You'd be home schooled of course.

He isn't all that hands on unsurprisingly.

He'd ask one of the other kids to keep en eye on you or even another justice league members.

Asking them for help wouldn't work.

The kids are on board with Bruce. Even if they weren't what could they do?

As for the other JL members he'd tell them you were mentally ill and confused.

He'd get his colleagues/friends admiration for being so selfless by raising a sick child and you'd just look crazy.

Bruce is not known for his affection but he does try.

If you are crying or screaming he might try and comfort you with a hug or by rubbing your back.

He's not the best at comforting words either but his little acts of kindness are where he shines

He'd do his best to make most of your days as structured and predictable as possible.

You'd be kept in the best health imaginable. whether you liked it or not.

Anything you can ask for he'd give you, so long as you don't ask for freedom.

He even makes time to tuck you in every night no matter your age.

If he has time he might even read to you.

You probably are never getting free of him and his kids but your best bet would be utilize the uncontrollable.

Batman is a planner. He likes to be able to predict things.

Try and wait till something goes majorly wrong.

All of Arkhams prisoners being released or an alien invasion are your only chances of slipping out of that place. You'd only get one shot though.

Diana isn't crazy right off the bat.

Wonder Woman

(This one might be the only non gender neutral one.)

You were an anthropologist given the rare opportunity to study the amazonians from the island of Themyscira.

She is cool under pressure and isn't easily impressed.

After so long of staying there she'd start to feel like you were her sister.

But once she's invested in you there is no going back.

She would follow you back to whatever city you called home.

She isn't shy about her sisterly love for you. There would be no mind games with her.

She respects you too much for that.

She is so direct about it she would likely just tell you, you were going to go back to the island with her and be with her forever.

Depending on your reaction towards her directness she may not even make you.

She might be okay with you just visiting. For a while at least.

She's confident and self assured.

If you liked being around her as much as she likes being around you things would be easy.

If not life was going to be hard and potentially painful.

Rejecting her affection and forthcomingness will break her heart.

She would blame herself and work to be better.

Unfortunately being better to her means giving you even less space.

She'd make you come back with her.

An island full of tall strong women all who listen to Diana's will.

You are not escaping.

She is near impossible to trick twice if you have already tried to get away from her.

That being said it wouldn't be all that bad.

She would be painfully gentle with you. So long as you just listen.

You are her little sister after all.

She differs from Kent and Bruce in a big way.

She would train you, she is pragmatic and understands one day she may not be there to protect you.

Long and rigorous training sessions would be the norm for a while.

On Themiscyra you'd have much more freedoms. You would even be able to walk around alone if you showed you can handle it.

Your happiness is her second priority after your safety.

She'd being you anything you wanted from your part of the world.

She would like for you to participate in amazonian traditions and customs but she'd never make you. Even if she wants to sometimes

She'd relish in watching you acclimate to her world.

She would insist her sisters treat you with the love and respect she feels you deserve.

Your only hope of escape would be to somehow get off the island and disappear.

Nothing sort of complete disappearance would work. If she ever caught you again you wouldn't be leaving that island for a second time.

More to come hopefully soon. There will be 2 or 3 parts in total not sure yet. Hope you enjoyed!

[thealtoduck]

Being adopted by Bruce Wayne…

Batfamily x Adopted!Male Reader

Warnings: Physical and psychological abuse of a child (nothing descriptive), reader has a panic attack.

Summary: After saving a boy from an abusive household Bruce adopts another kid…

——

You never got to meet your real parents all you was that they were a young couple who weren’t ready to have a kid, so you grew up in foster care.

When you were 9 years old you were adopted by a couple in their early 40s. First time you met them you could tell something was off. Though they passed the foster care’s check meaning they were allowed to adopt you.

In the beginning your adopted parents were nice but that only lasted for a short while then things soured. It started with glares, then insults, then a hit, then two…

4 years later…

You were currently sat in a room dark as coal in the basement where your parents would lock you when they were done beating you so they wouldn’t have to look at you. You were crying as your body ached.

You heard footsteps coming down the stairs to the basement and you thought your parents were back so you sat back and just waited for the door to unlock. But the door was kicked open revealing a man in cowl and cape. It was Batman.

You instinctively cowered as he took a step closer. He kneeled down and said calmly ”Don’t worry i’m not going to hurt you”. You made eye contact with him. ”Did your parents put you in here?” He asked softly. You hesitated but then nodded.

”Don’t worry, you won’t have to deal with them anymore, they’ve been arrested for their weapon dealing associations with the Gotham crime families” he explained. He reached out a hand to you and said ”Come with me, i’ll take you somewhere safe.

You just looked at his for a few seconds and then took it. The Batman escorted you out of your parents house and tried to hand you over to the GCPD, who were going to take you to social services.

Though as you approached comissioner Gordon you hid behind Batman who said comfortingly ”It’s okay they are going to help you”. You emerged from behind him and went with the police.

As Bruce got in to the batmobile he made a call ”Alfred, i need you to set up a bedroom”. ”Are we expecting company Master Bruce?” Alfred asked. ”Potentionally” Bruce answered.

You were first physically examined just to make sure you didn’t need immediate medical attention. After that you were questioned about what your parents had done to you, then they left you to a recovery center where they would treat your injuries and let you stay a few days.

A few days later they took you in for a meeting to meet with a potiental foster parent. They brought you into a room where a man with black hair and an expensive looking suit were waiting. ”Mr L/n, this is Bruce Wayne, Mr Wayne, this is Y/n L/n” The social service worker introduced you.

Bruce held out a hand and said ”It’s nice to meet you Y/n”. You shook his hand shyly but said nothing. ”He’s not much of a talker” the social worker assured him.

She and Bruce then discussed the possibilty of him becoming your adoptive father if you’d like living with him. It all eventually came down to your choice if you decided to go with him. You nodded.

The next day Bruce took you to Wayne Manor, he tried to make small talk but you were still silent to the point he wondered if you could even speak. He then stopped outside the manor and the two of you walked inside.

Waiting inside the Manor was a the butler who introduced himself as Alfred he offered to take your bag to your room so you handed it to him and uttered a low ”Thank you” to not seem rude.

Bruce then gave you a tour of the manor and then showed you to your room. He said he needed to get back to work in his office and that you were free to do whatever you wanted and to tell Alfred if you needed anything.

As he left you looked around your room it was nice and big but pretty empty at the moment so you left to take a look around the manor. You made your way to find Alfred who was in the kitchen making lunch.

Alfred noticed your presence and asked ”Oh, Hello master Y/n, how may i be of service?”. You only shrugged. ”Oh having a look around i see, could i offer you a drink or something to eat?” Alfred offered you shook your head and said ”No, thank you, i’ll wait”.

”Alright then, well if your looking for company your welcome to stay as Master Bruce’s other children are at school or work” He told you. You decided to stay with Alfred as you found him nice.

You sat down on a stool by the kitchen island and continued watching as Alfred cooked.

”Morning Alfred” a voice said and you looked to see a tall buff guy with black hair and a streak of white in the front, he looked to be in his early 20s. ”Master Jason, nice of you to join us” Alfred greeted. ”Us?” Jason questioned and then noticed you.

”Oh yeah right, he got another one” Jason remembered. ”Master Jason, this is Y/n L/n, Master Y/n this is Jason Todd, master Bruce’s second oldest” Alfred introduced the two of you. ”Hey kid” Jason said walking over to the fridge. You gave him a shy wave in return.

”What’s for breakfast Alfred?” Jason the questioned and the butler answered ”Lunch”. ”Cool my favorite breakfast” Jason stated. The three of you then sat down and ate lunch when you finished Alfred sent you and Jason to the library so he could help you pick out a few books that you could read to keep entertained.

After that when you and Jason were carrying a few books to your room you stopped outside a room where the door was open, you glanced inside.

”Oh that’s the gym, wanna go inside and check it out?” Jason asked, you nodded and you dropped off the books of in your room.

Jason then showed you the gym, you went over and looked at a punching bag and Jason said encouragingly ”Come on give it a hit”. You folded you hand in to a fist and gave the punching bag a light hit.

”Well not bad but could use some improvement” Jason commented and started giving you a lesson in proper boxing techique. He commented that ”You don’t know yet but being a capable fighter will come in useful in this family” you didn’t know what he meant by that but assumed he was joking.

Later that day you were introduced to the rest of family, which was a bit intimidating but they seemed to quickly pick up on your shyness and gave you space.

Though you were quick to bond with Dick, Stephanie, Duke and Barbara who were more sociable. It was harder for you to bond with Cassandra, Tim and Damian who kept more to themselves.

After living with them for a while they decided to tell you about their activities as vigilantes and you promised to keep their secrets.

Your combat training is what would bring you and Damian closer. He would walk in on you practising and Damian’s need to constantly be the smartest person in the room set in. He stood and commented stuff like ”You need extend your kicks more”.

Damian helped you master the basics and then started showing you new stuff, he took you under his wing and made himself responsible for your training.

Soon you started hanging out outside of that and would watch movies together, sit together and read books. Damian appreciated that you were calmer and quieter than your siblings.

Bruce thought this was good as you were only a year older than Damian and he needed to be around someone his own age.

The others would also be made aware of your past home life after an incident where you, Dick and Jason were hanging out in the kitchen and you accidentally broke a glass and reacted by crying and hyperventilating while trying to quickly clean up the pieces of glass, cutting your hands in the process.

Jason and Dick quickly understood you were having a panic attack and immediately started comforting you while Dick cleaned up the glass and got a first aid kit to clean your cuts.

Jason assured you that it was alright and that no one was mad at you and that nothing bad would happen. Then Dick and Jason would clean your cuts and watch a comforting tv show with you.

The family made sure to keep an extra eye on you to make sure you knew you were safe with them and that they would protect you.

[astronautrobot]

I actually made these before the intro comic and I couldn't wait to show them to you

Raph

Only child

The only turtle Splinter was able to save. Because of this same reason, he is overprotected by his father.

Has suggested several times to go out and look for the others, but his dad just won't risk it.

Carries his brother's masks with him everytime he goes out, in case he finds them.

When Splinter made his mask, he asked him to make one for each of his brother's too so they could eventually use them.

Terribly frustrated and even more angry than cannon, due to both his dad's negative to find the others and not being able to find them himself

Still dreams on going to school and meet more people, or more like someone else in general.

Really likes hugs and hopes he's good at them. He is, but ofc no one hasn't told him yet.

Has a stuffed animal that keeps him company, a turtle named Spike.

His dad gave it to him when he was a toddler so he wouldn't miss the others so much when it was time fo bed. Splinter doesn't know he still has it.

Mikey

Ran around the city until he found the Zoo. That's where he grew up.

Really connected to animals for this same reason. Often feeds strays and pigeons.

After the incident, rumors about alien turtles expanded around the city. They became kind of a urban legend.

Mikey, being the creative theater kid he is, eventually saw this as an opportunity to disguise himself and walk freely among the humans.

The trick was not to look too real in order to not stand out from the other mascots. He had to get crafty.

The most familiarized with humans, as he technically grew seeing them constantly and interacts with them daily.

Leo

Found by kid Rocksteady a few hours after being separated from the others. Was more than welcome by the other Mutanimals.

Both afraid and fascinated by humans.

He understands why the others are scared of them, but can't help but think it was a human who created all of them in the first place.

Is really conflicted with the idea of giving the humans the same treatment they had received for years. He believes it will become a cycle and won't really fix anything.

But he firmly thinks his family comes first and doesn't want to disappoint.

Super Fly's right hand.

Leads the team when the big brother has to attend other business.

Is the best at strategy and genuinely knows how to make the fam work together.

Can be intimidating when he really needs to in order to deal with the criminals. His BatMan voice is actually useful here.

Donnie

-Initially raised by TCRI

It hasn't been that long since the Baxter Stockman incident. TCRI was still on alert and when they heard about the strange creatures that appeared one night in the middle of New York, a team rushed to the scene. They managed to catch one of them.

Baby boy was neglected of physical affection.

A turtle wasn't on Stockman's records, so they were really confused as to where he came from. Taking on account the previous encounter with the fly creature, they theorized mutants not only had powers, but they were radioactive too.

Lab... rat turtle?

Scientist quickly found out the mutant actually had the intelligence of a human toddler and a lot of potencial. Some of them were interested on trying to raise him like a child, but Ultrom, still with the idea of creating mutants just to be used as weapons, refused to this and only keep him around to study him.

Donnie was initially treated carefully, as they were aware he was technically a baby and didn't want to risk their only specimen dying. They drew only enough blood to have an idea what they were working with.

Unfortunately, before they had the chance to start extracting his blood to actually recreate the ozze formula, he escaped.

This happened during one of the first attacks of Super Fly to TCRI. Donnie was around four years old.

He didn't went too far though. He had been locked up his whole life and wasn't really familiarized with the outside world. He managed to stick around without being noticed.

You can guess how he got tech savvy.

He eventually stumbled upon anime and One Piece quickly became his favorite.

The 'found family' trope really got to him. He feels a connection with Brook, with the whole lost crew and being left alone for a long time thing. He is hoping to also find his own nakamas.

Should this be like the main AU post? I'll put it all in order later.

I usually don't ask for this, but I would really like to know know what you guys think about it. Also, please point out any typos so i can correct them

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for qwertynerd97; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! (( chrono || non-chrono ))

He wonders if Lynn’s going to want any of his powers. It’d probably be for the best, since he’s gonna be living in Fawcett and Kryptonians are weak to magic, and if Lynn gets mind-controlled or whatever he can just shut them off for him until he gets better, so that should be fine? But Billy doesn’t actually know how Kryptonian powers feel, obviously, so maybe his powers would feel too weird for Lynn to use. Like . . . physically, he means. 

He’s really not sure how that works, yeah. He doesn’t have powers unless he’s transformed, really, so he doesn’t really know how different it might feel. Though super-strength is definitely really different from normal strength, either way, so . . . yeah, he really doesn’t know, honestly. 

Hm. 

He should figure that out, yeah. Or help Lynn figure it out for himself, at least. He can do that, he figures. Like, that seems like a normal part of helping him with his powers. And if Lynn doesn’t like having his powers, he can always just take them back anyway. 

Though he really would feel better if Lynn kept them just in case, he thinks, whether he uses them regularly or not. Like–definitely he would, actually. 

Billy throws out all the takeout boxes and saves the leftover napkins and plastic utensils that they didn’t use. He guesses the diner thought there were more than just three of them eating, which kinda makes sense with how much they ordered, and anyway Tawky has trouble using utensils when he’s stuffed, even plastic ones. It doesn’t hurt to have some extras around either, Billy figures, just for days when washing dishes is too much of a pain. 

Oh. They actually have dishes, don’t they. 

. . . weird.

Billy frowns down into the silverware drawer he just found to leave the extra plastic utensils in, feeling–off, for a moment–and then bites the inside of his cheek. It’s nice silverware. Like, solid and heavy-looking, not cheap.

He really hopes Batman got it on clearance or from the thrift store, or that somebody just donated it. 

There’s so much stuff here. He wasn’t really–expecting this much stuff.

Well. Maybe Superman asked for it, he thinks. He’s probably worried about Lynn settling in and getting everything he needs, right? Especially since he can’t take care of him himself? Billy doesn’t actually know why Superman can’t take care of Lynn himself–he guesses it’s probably a secret identity issue, considering, or maybe he’s got a long-term mission coming up or something–but he definitely doesn’t want to let him down. Especially not after Superman specifically asked him to take care of Lynn. Just–Superman thinks he can be a good dad and is trusting him to, so . . .

Oh, actually, he should remember to ask Lynn if he can tell Superman his name next time he sees him, or if he wants to tell him himself, or just isn’t ready to tell him at all yet. Billy’s still off-duty this week while Lynn gets settled, so it’s not like it’s gonna come up immediately, but better to know either way in advance, he figures. Like, probably better?

The silverware’s different from his parents’ silverware. They had two sets, all mixed-and-matched. They laughed about it sometimes. Billy thinks maybe there was a story behind it, but . . . but they never told him, so . . . so he doesn’t actually know. Maybe it was funny. Or romantic. Or . . . something. 

He doesn’t know. 

He closes the silverware drawer.

[blackdagger456]

Let's Talk About: MHA 430, How This Fandom Can't Read, How Leaks Ruin Chapters And While Imperfect This Finale Was A Good Sendoff

So, here we are.

Ten years. Ten years and 430 chapters we've been with My Hero Academia. Ten long years of excitement, fandom interactions and so many fics I won't bother to count saved, subscribed and bookmarked.

It's strange really. To be apart of this fandom for so long...and find out that so many still can't read.

Like holy cheeseburgers Batman, so many of my fellow MHA readers/fans can't read it's astonishing.

So, for what'll be the last time for this series, let's go over the latest chapter of MHA and allow me to inform you of what it means. Or at least, that was the plan before the leaks came out. Just with the added addition of going over how people have reacted to chapter 430 before it was even officially out, and we're going to start with the first stone that began toppling Dominos.

[Official Spoilers Below]

This. Oh god, this sentence has been nothing but a headache for me and so many others. Because of the leaks ,and subsequent mistranslations, being taken as fact the reaction to the finale started out as shit. This entire week leading up to today has been frustrating for me and many others as we tried to explain what should be obvious.

Firstly, none of this is coming from any official translation. What people were seeing before today were things fans and unlicensed translators are spreading around as if it's fact. This does NOT mean that they are correct and therefore these translations shouldn't be treated as such.

Secondly, in no way shape or form does Izuku imply or state that his friends abandoned him after he lost his powers. All he said, was that it was a bit more difficult to meet up regularly. Something that makes sense not only because they were working in different fields but also because work in general is like that.

It can be hard to meet up with the boys n girls for hang outs but that doesn't mean you don't talk. That doesn't mean you don’t call or text or keep in touch. Something which is easier to do when you've fought and lived through an entire war together!

His friends didn't abandon him. They didn't stop caring about him because he became powerless. Hell, the ending of the chapter proves this wrong if nothing else!

Now, is it a shame the ships didn't get officially confirmed? Yes. But I think the implications are more than enough to satisfy. Even if they aren't, there's no reason not have fun with things being open ended. It opens the door to so many fun possibilities OUTSIDE of this whole NTR trend people are trying to start. [Thankfully that's a small part of the fandom]

But moving on, lets go into what he's been doing since becoming OFA.

In what way shape or form does him becoming a teacher make him 'fall off'/make the Mc Donald’s meme become a reality?

 First off why are we hating on the man for enjoying his life without conflict after saving the world? We doing my boy like Gohan now? If he wants to retire to a teaching role, one he very clearly enjoys, let him. What do people think they can take him? Ya'll forgetting exactly what he had to do BEFORE he was able to get OFA in the first place. Izuku is still physically stronger than most normal people both in MHA and in reality.

But, I'm getting off topic. The point is Izuku has and continues to be an inspiration to those that will follow after him. Even to the point of mirroring his starting point with All Might when he inspires yet another young kid to become a hero.

Is he a bit sad he isn't an official hero? Yes. Is he frustrated or unhappy with where he is in life? No. Not at all. He's content. His goal was never to be the No.1 Hero it was to be like ALL MIGHT. To inspire and protect people like his mentor had.

He's done just that and for it---for it he's rewarded.

His kindness, his determination and his faith in those around him comes back to him in the best way for it was those people he spread said traits too that spent those eight years putting together the thing that would bring his dream back to him.

That would bring HIM back to standing by their side on the field of battle. For Izuku Midoriya never truly stopped standing by his friends. For they too had become their own inspirations to Japan and the world. But now, finally, their friend...their inspiration...their Deku could lead them on the frontlines once more.

They, and he, couldn't ask for anything less.

[starwrighter]

Two out of three prompts baby!!

Another take on the Lazarus waters= corrupted ectoplasm

While not all the batfam has been revived by the Lazarus pits, they've all either been in contact with the Lazarus pits / in the general vicinity of a Lazarus pit. If we go with the idea of Lazarus water having certain qualities of ectoplasm but not all of them couldn't people exposed to Lazarus water become a form of ecto contaminated from the waters?

For this prompt let's let Lazarus water keep the qualities of ectoplasm that contaminants the people who are exposed to it. Except Lazarus water doesn't contaminate people the same way ectoplasm does.

With ectoplasm you can spot when someone is contaminated almost immediately. Whether it be physical sickness or the physical mutations it causes (i.e fangs, pointed ears, glowy eyes, anything else you hc liminals having) it's easy to detect.

However, Lazarus water is a bit more... Discreet. Not that it's trying to be discreet it just doesn't have the same umph that ectoplasm has. Most of the pits effects are a ditch effort of getting/making ectoplasm.

Lazarus water desperately wants to be ectoplasm again. It wants to be stable but it physically can't. Not by itself at least. The people who are effected by Lazarus water are more prone to violence and bursts of anger and paranoia that can hurt or kill the people around them. All those symptoms can create ectoplasm but it will never be enough they need a powerful consistent source of a specific type of ectoplasm.

If you see where I'm going with this good. All the batfam are corrupted liminals/halfas.

Most of their symptoms are dormant but it's still there running through their veins imbedded deep in their brains, some worse than others. Everything they've been doing is a way to create ectoplasm but they can't absorb it. Not only are they not making enough, the ecto they do manage to make is corrupted and just adds fuel to the flames.

Now let's add Danny to the mix. It's no secret that Danny is canonically overpowered to a ridiculous amount so Danny would logically be emitting tons of powerful ectoplasm all hours of the day. The ectoplasm Danny emits is a godsend to corrupted liminals/halfas; the blood type O- if you will.

So when Danny comes in contact with one of the corrupted liminals/halfas (it's up to you if he's on the run or just visiting) they latch on immediately. Unfortunately there is no quick cure for corruption just like how radiation lingers years after an nuclear explosion corruption takes years to purify fully and it gets much worse before it ever gets better.

As mentioned before Lazarus water wants to be ectoplasm again and it doesn't care how long it'll take to get there. Which leads to some... Odd behavior from the contaminated

Danny with his crap luck runs into each and every member of of the batfam vigilantes and civilian persona's. He ran into babs at the library while trying to figure out his schooling. He ran into Tim at a cafe. Signal woke him up when he fell asleep on a park bench and thought he was dead. He literally ran into Jason and Dick. Damian was his seatmate cause they both skipped several grades. ( The angst of the portal accident happening earlier is something I would die for) Robin saved him from a mugging.

When he inevitably got kidnapped Bruce Wayne was called. Spoiler and Red Robin saved him from said kidnaping Batman evacuated him and some dude named duke from riddlers game. He saw Red Hood and Nightwing at bat burger.

Now the meetings in themselves weren't the problem, honestly it was just a typical month with Fenton luck. The problem was when he didn't stop meeting them.

It started with how seemingly there was always a vigilante there when he needed help, it made him nervous but could be chalked up to typical vigilante behavior. Then it was Tim always being there first no matter which Cafe or coffee shop he picked even the ones in the lower district. That was understandable since it was obvious the man was a caffeine addict and high end Cafe's in Gotham typically limited the amount of caffeine they gave you while the ones in the lower districts couldn't care less if you died. It was however annoying how he would comment on how "Danny, you shouldn't be drinking coffee this young" like he had the room to talk.

Next it was the way he constantly ran into Jason at the library. Apparently he was Barbara's brother. He did however help Danny with his English homework in a way he actually understood it! For that impossible feat Danny would forever be in his debt til the day he (fully) died.

Damian was his classmate,Duke and Tim went to the same school as them so he couldn't exactly blame them for that. He actually considered Damian a friend, they talked and ate lunch together. They were also paired together for pretty much everything since nobody else wanted to be Danny's partner for some reason.

He kept running into Dick and Cass whenever he went to eat at bat burger. Dick was funny and Cass started teaching him sign language. They were also Gothamites so he had no reason to tell them not to show up at a public place.

It got to the point he was always running into one of them no matter where he went! And the meetings were getting creepier and creepier.

They started inviting him places specifically to their homes. Danny was smart enough to know not to go home with someone he'd only known for a few months. Danny actively started to avoid them when their asking became more frequent and harder to safely decline.

He finally did go to one of their houses when Damian asked if he wanted to come over and work on a project. The teachers actively encouraged him to go saying everything from " Damian has trouble making friends, he's trying really hard for you ya know?" To" the project needs to be done either way might as well pair yourself with a friend" To just telling him to go because "It'd be good for your future to have connections with people like Damian and his family,"

Eventually Danny caved on his own, he trusted Damian, he was with the dude every hour of the school day for Ancients sake. So Danny goes to the Manor and everything goes as it should until it's time for him to leave. Damian tries to get him to stay longer and when he attempts to leave on his own he is blocked by the batfam.

Now Danny is confused and kind of scared. The fam sit him down and try to have a normal conversation with him but Danny is just asking when he's going home. Bruce then reveals he has full custody of Danny and that this is his home now. Danny starts freaking out even more since this is the second billionaire who's set on force adopting him.

They try to comfort Danny but he's not having any of it he attempts to phase out but he's blocked, the entire Manor has been ghost proofed to keep him in. Danny is full on panicking right now, trying to keep his cool. The batfam are upset because they just saw Danny attempts to escape but they go back to trying to comfort him. Saying it's okay, they understand that he's not ready yet but they couldn't let him keep living the way he was (being homeless or just the Fenton parents in general) inevitably Danny freaks out with a little power use hoping to spook them into letting him go.

Obviously they have ghost proof tech and are only slightly inconvenienced by Danny outburst. They're patient after a few hours of them trying to talk with Danny he finally exhausts himself trying to phase out and the fam take him to "his" room to settle in.

Now Danny has to figure out how to escape or live with this people until whatever effecting them wears off. The butler Alfred said they didn't normally act this way and with how concerned the man looked Danny trusted him.

Tldr: all the batfam are liminals/halfas that need the ectoplasm Danny emits. They go kinda crazy and kidnap Danny cause they are corrupted. From the batfams pov it's a wholesome adoption but from Danny's pov it's a irl true crime episode

[coupleoffanfics]

How would Batsis! y/n become a villain?

I found this while trying to clean up my writing drafts. Not sure when I wrote this, but I decided to post it because why not.

Jerome Route

If she had no friends, that connection with Barbara, or relationship with Jeremiah then Jerome would have a considerably easier time charming y/n. The emotional neglect from the family makes her desperate for any sort of contention leading her right into the hands of Jerome.

The family would believe that y/n can be saved, but she sees them trying to save face. Trying to stop her from telling Jerome all the big bad Batman's secrets by saying they're sorry and that they care. She doesn't end up telling him about their identities because someone has to keep Gotham safe. She's with Jerome, but she doesn't agree with everything he does.

y/n might purposefully sabotage Jerome's schemes. It's not because she cares for the family, no. It's for Batman and his Robins to keep innocent people safe. She keeps the family and their personas separate. At least she'll try to see them as separate.

Her logic is backwards and hypocritical, but frankly she doesn't care enough anymore. All that matters is Jerome's love. Who needs friends or family when you can have Jerome?

y/n and Jerome probably argued over wedding ideas.. Jerome wants a circus theme with a replica of his mom as a pinata. While y/n wants a traditional, elegant wedding. They compromise by letting y/n have that traditional vibe with the ceremony and Jerome can go batshit with the reception.

Jerome never put so much thought into something before and he never wants to do that again.

The Batfamily was not invited of course. The family most likely hears about it or even sends wedding photos. y/n probably has Joker or some other villain walk her down the aisle. Bruce sulks about it for months.

Post-Spray Jeremiah Route

If y/n had no one else besides Jeremiah and her moral compass was cracked. Then of course she's almost going to believe everything he tells her.

There's no denying that Gotham is a modern day Babylon. Yeah, the world would be better without it. Maybe it would be a good thing if we do get rid of it. Yeah, we could rebuild it!

But she'll run into the same problem of not fully following Jeremiah's ideology. At least how he goes about obtaining the goal of cleaning up Gotham. The cult stuff freaks her out a lot. When his followers bow down to her and praise her, she'll tell them to stop but he orders them to do that.

After expressing her discomfort over the cult and the followers' behavior, Jeremiah will distance her from it. Having her become sheltered in the bunker or a manor hidden away in the woods. Meaning the only relationship she can have with anyone who isn't Jeremiah is Ecco. Even then Ecco is  just another follower that was trained to be a guard dog.

This version of y/n wouldn't be too involved compared to the Jerome route. But if Jeremiah was caught and sent to Arkham, y/n is sneaking in to break him out. It could be by disguising herself as a guard or forcefully entering it with full confidence.

The family would try to reason with her if only they could actually talk to her. Again since she's not hands on it's a rarity for them to see her.

The few times they've met face to face was when their hero personas. Jeremiah and Ecco were busy fighting off the others, giving them time to talk. If they try to convince her to leave him, she'll either ignore it or tell them about how he's all she ever had. The only family member that could possibly break through to y/n would probably be Jason or maybe even Barbara.

Jeremiah and y/n get offended when they're compared to Joker and Harley. They'll clearly be different because they have a healthy and loving relationship. People probably come up with the comparison because of his physical appearance and he hates it. They're not wrong when they say their relationship is loving, but it being healthy is debatable.

y/n is more than willing to kill or torture someone if they were to do anything to Jeremiah. Though once again her hands are off, but doesn't mind getting her hands dirty.

y/n is the type to write like love letters and put them into Jeremiah's pocket before he leaves. He's in the middle of fighting Batman and suddenly a pink paper with a red heart border falls out of his pocket. Seeing it makes him scramble to grab it and shove it back into his pocket. He'll read it later.

This y/n might live a more semi-normal life, but probably struggles with loneliness and depression. Since Jeremiah is often working and Ecco is Ecco.

Sprayed Route

The moment y/n realizes what is happening she goes to Jeremiah and contacts Barbara who informs the family. They'd probably find a cure, but for the sake of story and angst let's say they can't.

Everyone is just forced to watch y/n become what essentially a Joker lookalike. Or she could look completely the same, doesn't really matter because they'll all be horrified by the drastic change.

She'd use the knowledge of their identities against them. Dangling it above their heads, but it isn't long before they realize that she isn't going to say anything. Oh, but she's definitely telling Jeremiah all about this. Of course he swears to never tell anyone and he might start working with the family to lock y/n up.

Not only was she endangering herself, but others as well. The best thing for everyone is to lock her up.

If she learns about Jeremiah working against her. She'd be so heartbroken. Violently throwing and smashing everything in the room she was in before coming up with an idea. 'He'd never be against me, they probably forced him to work for them. It's all their fault. They always ruin everything, but I won't let them take him.'

Out of all of the other possible routes this y/n would be the most vindictive. She'll guilt trip the family with her sob stories of their neglect, their personas won't won't react. But she knows they'll be thinking about what she said hours later. She'll spit out insults and won't hold back fighting.

Her once passive and defensive fighting style has completely flipped to almost recklessly aggressive. The only way she'll stop fighting back is if they restrain or knock her out.

Arkham isn't hard for her to adjust to. She'll explain to her few visitors (Jeremiah, Barbara, and Alfred) that it reminds her of Wayne manor. But less lonely.

Barbara and Alfred are the only family members she'll allow to visit her. As she still has a bit of a soft spot for them. Will not admit it, but she's always pleasantly surprised when Babs visits her or Alfred sends her some of his cooking. It almost makes her tear up and feel immense sadness. Just almost.

Probably besties with Riddler or something. Most Arkham inmates know of the name Jeremiah Valeska by how much y/n will mindlessly ramble about him. They also know not to mess with him because they'll be put on top of her shit list.

Masterlist Here

[theyellowhedgehog]

This is the character design I have in mind with the Reverse Robin + Parallel AU. Let's name it Ripple Effect AU. PART 1, 2, 3,

PART 4

Damian Wayne

So, Damian as you can see in my previous post, I colored his skin pretty pink. That's because I wanted him to be one of those kids that got darker as they grow older. You know ? Those babies that look like dumplings and got super tan afterwards? 🤭 Just imagine Damian after taking off his cowl and got a tan line around his mouth,lol.

Yellowhedgehog, where is Damian's green signature color?

I think he got his color as green because of his eyes or because of the Al-Ghul color.

But listen, our boy Damian falls out with his best friend *ahem* (which he will deny) due to Joker. So, I don't think he would even want to be near green.

Thus, I made him a color which contradict green, which is red. Which is also the color of his hero moniker, Cardinal, the bird.

Why Cardinal? That moniker was mainly used for Tim in his fandom.

Well, Cardinal is a bird that in some belief represents an angel that guide souls.

Damian's character development in this AU is to become one with Gotham, work with her and not against her, even though he wasn't originally from Gotham.

After Tim and Joker incident, he got it pretty bad because his best friend although survived, their friendship died. Since there was no physical body to bury it , he carries it in his moniker, likes a Cardinal is said to guide souls to a better place.

It will make sense later on when I introduce Jason and Dick.

Tim Drake

Yellowhedgehog, what did you do to Tim!

Yes, I made Tim bald, or like a fade bald? Yes, there is a reason.

After 3 days of captivity in the hand of Joker, the drug that he got injected makes his hair grow green for several years. Tim didn't like that. He didn't like hearing Joker's laughter in his head or be reminded of Joker when he saw the J Joker carved into his skin.

So he took back control the only way he could think of. He torched himself on his cheek to let it be a reminder that he survived Joker and not because Joker lost interest in him after the madman successfully got Batman's attention.

He buzzes off his hair because he will not let Joker controls him when he looks into the mirror and see someone who is not him.

So yeah, I hope that explanation brings answer.

Why is Tim's color the same as Nightwing?

I made Tim's color dark blue, but I'm not sure what color will represent Dick yet.

Blue is associated with green to some aspect. They are close to each other on the color spectrum. So why doesn't Tim chose a color far from Joker?

In physic, there are three main colors, Red, Green and Blue.

So my thought process was, Since a blue filter absorbs green and red, its perfect for Tim.

And while Joker's color represents craziness and chaos, Tim's dark blue represents calmness and stability. (Can anyone guess what Tim's future will be?😏)

Therefore, I made Tim, blue so he can swallow Joker whole.

What are some small details you also add to Tim and Damian?

There's no way it might come up in the plot but!

Damian has finally got a pet! It's not a dog tho! It's a hedgehog! *Nervous chuckle in self-insert*

Tim got addicted to cigarettes. This is because he uses nicotine to relieve stress and to ease his phantom pain from Joker's torture. He is trying to quit tho, cus Damian don't like smokers around the children.

Remember the goldfish in Part 1? Tim still has it! He named it D.A.L.F (Danger.Avoided.Lucky.Fish). He thinks it suiting because the goldfish was save from Damian's hand. Tim built a whole ecosystem for his goldfish. He took the goldfish when he moved away too.

Those are all the details I have thought up for now.

Thanks for reading!

[gothy-froggy]

I miss your every kiss

AK!Jonathan Crane x goth!fem!reader

She/her for reader

Warnings: patching Jonathan’s face, needles, fluff, possibly hurt & comfort, definitely comfort for Jonathan, insecure Jonathan, slightly suggestive if you squint, Not proofread

Summary: Jonathan thinks back to different moments his lovely wife as she patched him up from a fight. He wonders, how did he get so lucky?

————————————————————————-

Cold, dense, agony, miserable.

These were the things Jonathan felt, grunting at the pain form the sharp needle as he worked to keep his face from falling apart. How could his wonderful plan go all to waste? How could the Batman, not feel fear? His frightening toxin not do anything to him?

Part of him wonders, was it Batman who wasn’t afraid, or the man behind that mask? Perhaps both? It didn’t matter. No, not right now. What matters is him getting back on his feet, climb his way back as a feared villain of Gotham. The media perused him as dead, but he could assure the people of Gotham that he is not. Just slowly piecing himself back together. Literally in a sense.

As he walked in the sewers below, he felt as the pain course through his body. Physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Slowly walking, hissing at any shift that causes his damaged leg trouble. His one working cloudy eye quickly scanning around.

He needed a way out. He needed to escape. His work, his toxin, his reputation, life,

His wife.

He stopped, leaning over a wasted crate as he tried to control his breathing.

Would he still have a wife? How long has he been down here? That was something he couldn’t tell. Even if she was looking for him, why would she stay? He looked…hideous.

His thoughts continued as he made it out, at the edge of city itself. He could barely make out the boats in the water. It was night, moon hitting the water. The thoughts continued as he water the water, getting louder as he closed his eyes.

His cloudy eyes shifted slowly once they opened, hearing faint footsteps, slowly getting louder with each step. It stopped, to the side slightly behind him. He turned, heart racing as his eyes widened.

“Oh darling,” She whispered out, gently touching his face. Mumbling a sorry when he let out a groan. She observed him head to toe, bringing him back to one of their locations.

He sat there, watching her finish up patching his face, stopping when he told her to.

“Gotham will pay, my love. It’s only a matter of time.” She reassured him.

Jonathan’s hand ghostly touching her suit, feeling the nice fabric of her black suit. He couldn’t understand. Why wasn’t she afraid of him? Not walking away, not disgusted by the way he looks? Here she was in her all black professional suit, carefully stitching his face together with fabric for him, not an hint of fear of his damaged face. She still wore her ring too. But again, he couldn’t help but think of the question again,

Why isn’t she afraid of him? Disgusted by him?

He here now, curled in a ball, muttering to himself. The look of pure terror in his eyes as he scurried away from his wife. To be fair, she looks undead to him. No, no, it can’t be. Her voice echoing in his mind,

“Why didn’t you save me?”

What happened? What have he done? What haven’t he done?

Feeling restricted as he screamed, his wife screaming his name, forced to see her decomposing face. His new greatest fear, losing her.

“Jonny,” Jonathan opened his eyes again. She was there. Alive and well. A sigh of relief escaped through his teeth. Her smile wiping the memories of what he saw from the fear toxin away.

“I’ve got you.” She whispered, looking at him oh so lovingly. And once again, he couldn’t help but ask in his mind,

Why isn’t she afraid of him? Disgusted by him?

Jonathan came back from a disappointing conflict, resulting to his scarecrow textured face getting damaged. His wife, now sits on the desk with the needed materials, fixing him up. Her long, black dress, winged sleeves tied back as she focused on stitching things back.

“You’re concerning me, Crane.” Ah, Crane. She was serious. Jonathan only stayed silent, only letting out soft noises of discomfort from the needle as she finished up his cheek.

“Why?” The room got quiet. She looked into his eyes. Puzzled by his short question, tilting her head.

“Why what?”

“Why are you still here? Look at me,” Jonathan was giving her a partially accidental glare.

“Rough fabric, hideous, no lips, yet you are still here. Why?” He voice ever so slightly quivered. She leaned in, gently placing her forehead on his. It was their substitute for a kiss.

“How does your appearance partakes who you are, my dear?” He shivered as a hand followed his jawline.

“You could be nothing but a beast, and I would still be by your side. Be with you.” She said above a whisper, pressing a kiss on what remained of his lips. unable to stop himself, Jonathan’s tongue slipped inside her mouth, letting out a soft groan. Only to pout as it came to an end. His face expressed grim.

“I miss your every kiss. The ones from the past.” He mumbled. It was a shame. They were so great. He feel everything. It was harder and different now.

“Though I do not miss the time that I haven’t had any.” Jonathan placed his forehead against hers. He pulled her in by her waist, enjoying the warmth form both her body and her laughter. He truly couldn’t believe he how found someone who loved him. Someone so loyal and faithful to him as he is for her. He grabbed her hand, glancing at their matching silver ring. Both with such tiny gothic details engraved inside.

Jonathan brought her hand up to his teeth, gently nibbling on it as his form of a kiss. He was always secretly eager for her warm and soft skin. Her soft skin against his rough fingers.

“How did I…end up so lucky, with a wife like you?”

“Not quite sure, but let me finish patching you up. Then you have to eat. You will eat, right Jonathan?” She said his name sternly.

“Or is the Scarecrow going to keep you a hostage for the plan?” Jonathan let out a soft chuckle, helping her off his lap.

“I will,” He agreed. She finished patching his face, pressing a kiss in his teeth, leaving a bit of her colored lipstick on them.

“I could never love someone like I love, Jonny.”

“I feel the same for you, my dear.” He watched her leave.

The Batman may be a fear of his, but losing her who is the absolute love of his life was one as well. It was one he finds worthy to avoid.

————————————————————————-

[soapskies]

Hear me out, yandere btas two-face hcs?

GENERAL YANDERE BTAS TWO-FACE HCS

MALE READER. ROMANTIC HCS. TW FOR USUAL UPSETTING STUFF, Y’KNOW THE DEAL.

— can you tell I like him a lot? reader is a DA in this one.

It was completely by chance, the double-headed coin landing unscarred side up as he pressed his gun against your skull.

Let’s just say your lawyer friends hadn’t been so lucky. The coin was on a heads streak today, and he saved Gotham’s new rising-star attorney boy for last: little ol’ you.

It was cute how despite the situation you stood steadfast, staring into the eyes of Death. It reminded him of himself a bit. How he too was once so passionate about upholding the law, he didn’t care what trouble stood in his way.

It took a lot of guts, he’d give you that. But the last thing he expected was to be frozen in place, caught in this staring match. How your brilliant eyes glared holes into him.

He felt his bitter heart twitch a little as he watched you leave. The two of them hated these feelings being stirred up again, more intensely than when he was with Grace. He would’ve shot you then and there just to be done with it, but he couldn’t argue with the coin.

It was the start of a long-standing game between the two of you.

He almost wanted to get caught, just to see you in action in the courtroom.

The way Harvey and Two-Face experience their feelings towards you are entirely different.

Two-Face hates how you have an effect on him despite your interference with his criminal activities, and has violent thoughts about you that he’s yet to carry out because of the coin or Harvey’s influence.

On the other hand, Harvey respects and admires you, treats you like glass, and has delusions about you already loving him back unconditionally. Unfortunately for you though, he rarely fronts, especially when Two-Face’s obsession escalates.

Rivalry ended with Batman, started with you.

Every scheme of his would include you in some way, just to give him an excuse to bother you

Oh, that pesky little lawyer you, trying to save a city rotting from the inside. And worst of all, luck always seemed to be on your side.

How many times has he kidnapped you, has he thought about murdering you up right so he didn’t have to feel the effect of your charms, only for the coin to spare you!

Two-Face grows more agitated as time goes on, the more he loses control.

Harvey had his reservations about forcing you to be with him at first, but if the coin was trying to tell him something, with how it always seemed to favor you…

Surely you guys were meant to be a pair, right? Harvey is convinced that the two of you were fated to be together. That though you may put up a fight, you still love him. And so he lets Two-Face do what he deems necessary, because he believes it will all work out in the end. Couples have their fights, right?

Two-Face doesn’t mind you interacting with others, as long as you aren’t getting too comfortable with them…

If anyone even thinks about taking your attention away from him, he’ll make their lives hell.

He despises how Batman always gets you out of harms way. Why did nobody treat him with the same care when he was DA? Maybe then he wouldn’t be so fucked up.

“The Bat won’t come for you this time, handsome. He couldn’t even save us.”

Two-Face likes threatening you to do what he wants. He can get easily enraged and physically violent, especially if you don’t reciprocate his affections in the way that he wants you to.

He has no issue with laying a hand on you, especially if the coin approves of it. You’re a tough guy, you should be able to take it like one. Harvey may not engage in the same behaviors, but he certainly doesn’t apologize for Two-Face’s actions either.

And he can’t deny he gets a twisted sort of pleasure from watching your reactions to his handsiness.

Bet you like how Two-Face roughs you up, huh? Of course you do.

If the coin decides not to punish you, then sometimes Harvey will come out, and handle you somewhat gentler

But he’s still easily jealous, judging by how he voices his concerns about you getting close to others all the time. After all, he genuinely believes you two are basically a couple already.

Both of them want to hear you profess your love and praise him and tell him how good he is, to you and Gotham, and not because he has a knife against your throat

“Say it again, like you mean it this time.”