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#batman put your fucking hand down
evilminji · 7 months
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Can You "Accidental Baby Acquisition" Yourself?
Like? Say you have a You... who is NOT You, obviously, but A You in the Multiversal sense... and their childhood suuuuuucked. Just? Truely awful for reasons beyond their control.
Such as the veil NOT being so easily peirced in their reality and humanity a bit more... Reactive(tm) to ectoplasm, due to the lower concentration of it in the Everything of their Universe. Which makes their parents research? Unattainable. Dangerous.
Ultimately fatal to their elder sister.
And then later, them.
Not that they were even the loving if wildly eccentric parents most of the other You's KNOW and have. Due to that very say research and their long-term exposure to their own samples. The Reactivity.
"Pit Rage" as some circles call it.
They weren't themselves. Stopped BEING themselves long before their children ever came into the picture. If they could think clearly, they would BEG for someone to save their children. From them. From their house of horrors. From what they've become.
And well? You exsist outside of Time. In the Zone. Maybe you have a wide and crazy adventure with this grizzled, worn, badass of a You. Figure he's pretty cool. Ask if he needs anything. And he laughs this broken glass in your chest sort of sound and says:
"Not unless you could give me a real childhood."
Like? Dude. Buddy. My buddy dude. Gonna have to explain that one. You can't just drop that and walk away. We Crazy Action Bros Adventure(tm) bonded. You can tell me. And reluctantly... he kinda does.
And... Look. You exsist outside of TIME. Your mentor IS Time. You can TOTALLY do that.
This.
But like? You realize... there wouldn't be TWO of you... right? If you take mini-Bamf out of the timestream at point A... you, big guy, stop existing at every instance of point B and onwards.
Yeah. Yeah, he gets that. Fully consents. His life was full of bad decisions and dramatic bullshit. He wants a real childhood. His sister back. Wants them BOTH out of that house and somewhere safe. If he could do it himself, he would. Call it his fucked up way of healing. Finally facing his trauma. It's haunted him long enough.
.....well then. Now You've got a baby and a fussy toddler. They have superpowers because of course they do. That house was OSHAs waking nightmares and deepest fever dreams. Jazzypants is hungy. And baby You did a stinky.
This is Fine(tm).
You're a King! You can TOTALLY handle this! Teeeeeemporarily. Since it's not like they can stay HERE. The Zone is literally uninhabitable long term for the living. So time to fire up the ol Brain Meats. Gremlin Ideas formulating. Loading... Loading... Loooooooading. Got it!
You kidnapped them.
Brilliant! FRIGHTY! Where's the Trenchcoat Booze Slu-...SLUHeuth. Sleuth! Totally what I was planning to say, Starshines! Don't curse. Cursing Bad~☆
The Detective Of Loose Morales in The Trenchcoat, who's Soul I Own, Frighty! Where's he at?? *Distant muffled answer* Close enough! Time to give him a heart attack! And throw a fight! Can you toss me a nightmare medallion? I need to instill mortal terror! Thaaaanks, Frighty! Also can you change diapers? *affirmative noises* Ancients, you're the best.
Smash cut to John Constantine. Busting up some cult, as you do. When? Oh fuck. The leaders heading for the store room! Not today, fucker! They fight. They struggle. It's Manly and Gritty and dramatic! When?
A terrible CRASH. Some artifact must have activated. What... have you DONE? *dramatic musical sting* swirling green and DEATH radiates out from a pin prick of nothing. A black hole in reverse. The cold oblivion of space, given bones to claw its way free. Eyes that sear in colors too technicolor and hypersaturated to be mortal. Green. Green! GREEN.
Ice and stars and death and a terrible, unspeakable Crown.
Two... two little sprogs. Tiny bits of nothing in a monsters hand. KIDS, wrapped up in something they never should of even had to nightmare about. John's eyes catch on red, red hair. A tiny little headband with butterflies on it. Pressed so close to dark locks, as she wraps herself around her little bits of a sibling.
The other ones dressed up in stars.
Someone SOLD their fuckin KIDS. Or this damned this STOLE them. It doesn't matter. Not now, not to John. Because this bastard isn't keeping them. He slides like breathing into the waves of luck and chance, odds and fate. Is on his feet and drawing attention. Whatever it takes, he's leaving here with those kids.
He laughs and it's not a kind one.
"Oi! A word if you will?"
@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @ailithnight
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hailsatanacab · 2 years
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I LIED!! MEMES ARE TODAY >:D
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
wow a lot of these are about jason lol
now to actually go to sleep, it's much too late for me to be up ily bye!!
MEMES ARE TODAY PEOPLE 🚨🙏🥳🎊🎉🙌
for chapter 9 of cetbwa
#cetbwa#danny phantom#dp dc#dp x dc#batman#literally just finished reading your comment and how you werent doing memes until later#which would have been absolutely fine please dont feel like you have to meme straight away on my account (you do have to meme tho haha)#and i go to put my phone down and see a tumblr notification with MEME TODAY lmao#ilysm bestie#i am very spoiled today thank you so much!!!!#these are fuxking quality too like holy shit - literal laugh out loud funny#the fucking jason office one had me in stitches its so funny#thats exactly the way jason is feeling rn - and i was so in two minds about how long to keep danny pretending to be damian for!!#like on the one hand its not exactly the right way to start off a relationship,but on the other hand.... it absolutely fits into the batfam#also i had this funny little phone text conversation thing mocked up between tim and jason that i was gonna put in the notes but rip me#i have no idea how to do that lmao i tried so hard and for so long but it just kept coming up blank 😔😔#it was gonna be like 'thanks for telling me he's identical i almost outed red hood!' and then tim would be like#'wow red hood's gay??'#it was funny#BUT NOT AS FUNNY AS THESE#oh fuck i made it big again by accident how do i keep doing that#oH FUCK I FORGOT TO TAG YOU AGAIN FUCK ME#tellmeabtspinos#the butterfly one 'is this a normal undead man?' because thats a sentence normal people say - danny has such a skewed view of normal lmao#also you very much are a psychic with your kitten drawing,apollo really socked you because next chapter 😽🥺#damn these are all so good like#hope you have a good sleep and thank you again so so much!!! love you bby you are incredible and funny and so so creative ilysm ❤️
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.4
[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3][Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]
Danny was sitting in the back, his backpack obnoxiously taking up the seat next to him, when the door to the lecture hall creaked open near silently.
“What are you in here for?” Danny asked the guy who crept into class. He sympathetically took his backpack off the Seat of Shame and allowed the guy to sit down. Funnily enough, they had the same hair and eye color.
“Gen Ed. Undecided. You?” The guy grunted quietly back.
“Environmental studies. I’m Danny.”
“Tim.”
With the implicit understanding of two people in a required class they could not give less than two fucks about, Tim and Danny tuned back into the lecture. When the class was assigned group work, Danny looked over to see Tim softly snoring, head slammed down on the table.
“Tim. Wake up, dude.” Danny poked his shoulder.
“Huh? Class over?”
“Nah, we got group work. Discussion board.”
“Oh shit, thanks for waking me up. Wanna team up?”
Danny shrugged. “Sure. We should aim to post it in the middle so the professor doesn’t read our answers to the class.”
“Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Any idea what we’re talking about?”
“Kind of?”
“Good enough for me.”
——
Tim Drake kept seeing Danny Fenton around on campus.
“Danny! Dude, what are you doing?”
Danny turned, gloved hands full of crumpled trash. “Picking up after the student population, apparently.”
“Didn’t think environmental studies was that serious.”
“Global warming is very serious, you jerk,” Danny smirked at him, crossing the grass to put the trash into the trash can. “Reduce, reuse, oil shouldn’t be spilled in water and all that.”
“Basic stuff,” Tim grinned. Nice, he basically had a friend past Bernard now!
They were friends, right?
“And yet humanity fails to comprehend it. Incredible. Incredibly stupid that is.”
“They get it. Major corporations just don’t care.”
Danny sighed. “True that. You on your way to your next class?” He took off his biodegradable gloves off (nitrile and nylon, baby!) and chucked them into the trash.
“I’ve got free time, actually. Prof cancelled for his daughter’s surgery.”
“Oh, shit, that’s rough! You wanna go downtown and join the strike?”
“A strike? What for?” Even as he asked, Tim hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder, ready to go. They fell into step as the two left campus.
“Apparently, Quillan Pharma was doing some shady shit at their manufacturing plants. I think it’s like killing kids, and pouring toxins into the ground.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Yeah. Oh! Poison Ivy’s gonna be there!”
Tim blinked. He casted a sideways look at Danny. Sure he’s been here long enough to know… but it couldn’t hurt to check. “You know she’s an eco-terrorist, right?”
“Okay, but like… people suck sometimes. And all she’s asking for is like don’t kill the planet. And she doesn’t do that whole mind control thing too much anymore! The Sirens are so cool. Plus, one of my best friends at home might actually kill me if I don’t try to get her autograph. Poison Ivy is like, Sam’s personal hero.”
Tim snickered. “Yeah, okay. Mind if one of my friends join? His name’s Bernard.”
“The more the merrier,” Danny nodded. “Ooo! Hot chocolate. Want some?”
Danny bought three drinks as Tim trailed behind, texting Bernard.
“He said yes.”
“Cool! We should meet up somewhere before the drinks get cold.”
Well, Danny got the autograph. Tim got a new friend, and Bernard got a drink from his crush.
——
“Oh, you’re the glowing dude that Batman always talks about!”
Danny blinked, eyes scanning the wing-like cape and the yellow emblem on the hero’s suit. Danny was indeed glowing, stars and nebulas freckling across neon green skin, and glowing hair the color of a white dwarf star, tinged with the blue from his ice core.
“I… have absolutely no idea who you are,” Danny lied, like a liar. He’s found a surprising niche of entertainment in messing with the local vigilantes and he’ll be damned if he missed this opportunity.
He heard a snicker from the comm lines as Red Robin visibly brushes it off.
“I’m Red Robin. Why are you picking up trash?”
“Picking up after you humans, apparently.”
The both of them blink, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu. A moment of awkward silence passed before they both shook it off.
“Are you here to help? No offense, but the track record for you people is terrible.” Danny strode over and grabbed a bag. He opened it, and shook it at Red Robin’s face. “See? Batarangs, these odd bird looking ones, the R’s. Seriously, pick up after yourselves!”
“Oh, woah, can we have these back?”
Danny yanked the bag back before Red Robin could get close. “Pay me. These were incredibly tedious to pick up. Especially the batarangs. I mean, I even found a whole bunch of old rusted ones in the middle of the bay. What did you do, dump an entire bag in there from the air?”
Red Robin sighed and took out a wad of cash, with tracking fluid all over it. Danny grimaced, smelling the odd scent on the money. “That’s not real cash. It smells off. Are you trying to give me counterfeits because you’re broke?”
Red Robin gaped, oddly offended. “No! They’re real!”
“Doesn’t smell like it. It’s stinkier than the trash. Go get the one with the money, the litterer. Tell him I’ll be back the next full moon. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Danny grumbled, disappearing on the spot to watch Red Robin flounder with the stack of cash and the piles of dead bodies on the shore.
“What the fuck even is my life these days?” Red Robin wondered out loud, stuffing the cash back into his pocket. He looked over the plastic wrapped bodies and slumped, sighing.
Oddly enough, Danny felt a sense of sympathy. Well, he’s not getting paid for sympathy. He’s not getting paid at all tonight, actually. Danny flew off, plunging once more into the depths of the significantly cleaner waters, and used his ice to scoop out oil stains.
Danny glanced around and sighed. He had a lot of work to do.
——
“So you’re saying he’s like a werewolf mermaid fae child immortal god thing, right?”
Bruce grunted.
“B, what the hell are you smoking these days? You know drugs are bad, right? Do we need Superman to give you that PSA?” Jason snickered.
Tim, massaging his arms from having to haul an ungodly amount of dead bodies, grunted. He’s so similar to Bruce that it gave the people currently in the cave hives.
“He said full moon. I don’t think we can track him with regular stuff. The bugs kept shorting out.”
“Oh boy,” Dick sighed. “Don’t fall off the spiral cliff, Tim. You’ve got midterms to think about so no stalking the guy.”
“Yet,” Tim shot back, changing out of his suit.
Bruce grunted, setting aside a huge stack of cash.
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radiance1 · 8 months
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The US government when multiple of their servers has been hacked and they can't find a trace of who's doing it: What is going on!?
Tucker, literally in an internet cafe sipping on some milk with what little money he had on him: Haha, lol.
---
Lex Luthor when he's told that multiple of his servers has been hacked and put into disorder with seemingly no purpose: Find whoever this is, immediately!
Eve Teschmacher: Sir, our best is unable to find whoever hacked into our servers, in fact, our attempts to stop, build up defenses or force them out, have only been met with more, chaotic files.
Lex Luthor, banging his fist on the table: What do I pay them for!? Find them immediately!
Tucker, literally in an internet cafe a few blocks away from the Lexcorp building: Get gud noobs!
---
Oracle, when her servers has been hacked by an unknown: Raises eyebrow
Oracle, when said unknown begins to mess around in her servers and basically goads her into trying them: Oh it's on.
Oracle, when she conveniently hacks into said unknown's coordinates and finds it leading to an internet cafe, to which it then gets fizzled out by the unknown: Hm. I should tell someone.
Also Oracle: However.
Tucker, chugging down his milk and booting it from the internet cafe while disconnecting from Oracle's servers and sending multiple signals to hopefully take her off his trails: shit shit shit shitshitshitshitshitshit
---
The Justice League, after noticing that Mount Justice is currently being hacked in the middle of a debriefing:
Batman and Robin fighting against the hacker, with the new addition of Oracle who just, appeared out of nowhere: Oh, I know this guy!
Batman, narrowing his eyes: Explain.
Oracle, refusing to explain but instead manages to snag the unknown's current whereabouts while simultaneously wiping said whereabouts before the unknown (Who is currently distracted by Robin and Batman) could notice, while also downloading said location to Batman's suit all at once: I think they can do that for you.
Batman, relents and flows away from the computer and walks away from the Young Justice team: Superman, with me. Red Tornado, continue the debriefing.
Tucker, currently in an internet cafe sipping on boba after acquiring some money, chewing and furiously tapping away at his PDA: ...I may have bitten off more than I can chew, here.
Tucker, looking up when someone sat down in relatively hidden (and by that he means square in the corner) booth and choking on his boba to see the Batman and Superman sitting across from his casually:
Batman, when the unknown he was looking for was literally a 14-year-old currently staring at the both of them in shock with a PDA held together by a mass amount of tape, determination and probable hope: Narrows eyes and stares at Superman.
Superman, currently ordering off of the menu: Raises hands with an innocent expression What? We're at a cafe, might as well?
Batman, staring at him for a solid few minutes, before also ordering something off of the menu:
Tucker, currently experiencing his life flashing before his eyes, but trying to play it off: Sips Boba.
(For your information by the way, Tucker got thrown to the DC universe and basically became a little shit by hacking into multiple places for literally no reason other than to have fun and fuck with people.)
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ruenii · 1 year
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Tim, [pointing his staff at the human traffickers]: YOU ARE OUTGUNNED
Jason, [hyping him up]: WHAT?
Tim: OUTMANNED!
Jason: WHAT?!
Tim: OUTNUMBERED OUTPLANNED
Jason: PAY YOUR FUCKING TAXES!
Tim: PUT YOUR GUNS DOWN ON MY COMMAND
Jason: HAND EM OVER!!
Tim: THIS IS HAMILTON MY RIGHT HAND MAN!
Jason, [getting his guns out]: PWO PWO PWO PWO PWO-
Goons: *shaking* what the FUCK are Batman feeding his partners--
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confused-wanderer · 1 year
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..the batfam siblings are randomnly getting teleported through time to the original days of batman and robin, but somehow Bruce is nowhere to be seen. This leads to so many more questions, and each of them has begged the villains to just put them out of their misery at some point.
Exhibit 1
Jason *teleports into Wayne Manor*
Jason: what the actual fuck is happening?
Eight year old Dick:
Jason:
Jason: Ah sh- shoot.. Hey there..
Eight year old Dick *lip trembles*
Jason *panicking* : uhhhh hey kid please don’t cry-
*WHAM*
Jason’s knees explode in pain as he doubled over and then there’s a continuous tornado of blows coming before he’s down for the count
Eight year old Dick: IM GONNA ROCK YOUR SHIT FUCKER *about to smash a granite statue on Jason’s head if Alfred hadn’t walked in at that moment*
Jason *tasting blood and wheezing* : I- I think my ribs are broken.. also why does this fucking feel like déjà vu?
Exhibit 2
Tim:
Robin!Dick:
Tim: uh- hey Dick?
*villain appears*
Tim *running in front* : Don’t worry I’ll protect yo-
Robin!Dick running out from behind him wielding an electric blowtorch he stole from Tim: MEET YOUR END TODAY!
Tim *panicking* : ROBIN NO
Dick *cackling* : ROBIN YES
Exhibit 3
Damian:
Dick:
Damian: Richard.. you’re- not what I expected.
Dick *scaling the side of the skyscraper to help a cat stuck there*
Damian: .. Compassion is a quality you always-
Damian:
Damian: .. Richard.. where is the rest of your gear?
Robin!Dick *with cats in hand running off the ledge*
Damian: RICHARD WHERE IS YOUR GRAPPLING HOOK?!
Dick ended up doing several gymnastic moves, giving a perfect landing with the cat in tow and not a single scratch on him. Damian has stopped functioning.
Bonus
Cass *smiling warmly*
Dick *smiling and waving* : HI NICE LADY!! Do you want a cookie? Alfred made them!!
Cass *taking the packet Dick is trying to hold upright*
Dick: That ones for you! And this *takes out a small box with a skull drawn on it with crayons* is for your family! I know you don’t like talking about them.. and I think they’re the ones who hurt you. Just give them one cookie and they’ll never bother you again!
Cass: :) . Thanks.. but cookie not solve everything..
Dick: Aww..
Dick:
Dick: If I burn their house down will that work?
Cass: •_•
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princeoftheeternalbog · 6 months
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OP characters reacting to you kissing them and running away (here's part 2) established relationship ish. Feel free to ask for other characters.
ALSO I've definitely seen another creator who did this idea with op characters but I can't remember who so if someone could tell me I would really love to credit them :(. I tried to make mine different but still it's the principal of it.
Slightly suggestive in some parts so mdni.
Luffy
Thinks its a new game like tag but with kisses and it ends up actually becoming one. You'll both wait for the other to become distracted and then you'll strike, planting a kiss and sprinting off around the ship or the island you're docked at. It's not hard to chase after each other because the trails of laughter are so easy to follow and it always ends up with one of you on the floor from a tackle or something similar.
Zoro
Gobsmacked. Genuinely his jaw drops especially if there's other people there and you get away so easily only because of how long it takes his brain to boot back online. Oh but he doesn't let it go. He waits until you're in a similar situation, either talking to someone or doing work and he sneaks up to pull you into a deep, intense kiss that leaves your knees weak. Like he fully puts the moves on you, hand on your lower back, other hand cradling your jaw, hes literally licking into your mouth and then he just disappears for the rest of the day. Asshole.
Sanji
You are not running away from this man. Not in a scary way but he can't do just one short kiss, as soon as you're leaning in his hands settle firm on your hips and that grip is not something you can wiggle out of. You can try to run away but he just laughs at you and pulls you closer to him, ofc he would let go if you actually wanted him to but he knows what you're trying to pull. Says something like "Oh? Trying to run darlin? How sweet." swoon- Just don't even bother, he will always try to win if your affection is involved.
Nami
Honestly thinks nothing of it. A lot of your affection is sweet but quick because yk pirate life. But if you look disappointed from her lack of reaction then she catches on quickly and starts playing along. So sweet even though she can be scary. Oh but don't try to run if she's initiating, like Sanji you aren't going to get out of her grip. If she wants to shower you with affection, she is going to thank you very much. If you do manage to slip away she's surprisingly quick and surprisingly stealthy. Like you'll think you got away and you walk into a room and she drops down from the ceiling like fucking batman.
(maybe not that dramatic but shes good)
Robin
She lets you run away but only because she knows she could summon a mouth to kiss you at any time and in any place so she's content knowing she always wins. Also thinks it's really cute when you try to rile her up like this, she just finds it so endearing and usually ends up playing into it anyways- "My, my, aren't you getting so bold my love". Sometimes will purposefully trip you up while you're doing these antics so you can't get away or so you're plan is ruined, absolutely pretends she has no idea what you're talking about.
Usopp
Highly likely he was doing something when it happened. Highly likely he dropped something onto his foot as a result. Yowls like an injured cat and then when his brain catches up it's like steam comes out of his ears. Stands there with his mouth open and pointing at you like you betrayed his entire family. Very funny and very cute. Also a possibility of him smacking you out of fearful instinct in which case he'd probably cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. Nami makes it worse by punching him in the face for hitting you. A mess all around if you get him at the wrong time so just be careful.
Ace
Immediately sprinting after you, it's actually a bit scary. But like hey he's not letting you get away with just one measly little peck on the cheek. Absolutely nobody on the crew helps you unless it would be funny, i.e. someone tripping Ace up so he faceplants. If it's near the beginning of your relationship then you likely go back out of concern which he takes as a chance to catch you, but if it's later then you already know this man's antics and you know he wouldn't be injured just from tripping so you use it as an opportunity to get away💪. You still have to kiss it better later though when hes whining to you about how cruel you are for leaving him in the dust(he would do the same).
Izou
Don't bother. As soon as you turn he snatches you by the back of your collar and pulls you onto his lap, proceeds to resume his conversation like nothing is wrong but his arms are firm around your waist and his cheeks and ears are a particularly pretty shade of red. Once his conversation is over and the other person has left, he turns his attention to you with a very pointed look. He's not actually irritated but if he enjoys watching you squirm that's his business. "If you wanted a kiss you should've just asked my love" and then he's practically devouring your mouth. Doesn't care about the other people in the vicinity. Doesn't care that he's smudging his lipstick. Just wants to fluster you more than you flustered him.
Marco
Do you even want to run away from this man lets be real- anyways.
If he's doing work then he just laughs and lets you get away with it, tallys it in his head for later, but if he's free and hes in a good mood then he absolutely plays into it. Will chase after you. Will cheat by using his powers. Its a bit scary but also very attractive, somehow ends with him pinning you in some way (☺️), looks very smug when he wins. Like you'll end up flat on your back, legs trapped under his and his hands restraining yours and he's just grinning- "Oh what a surprise. You were so easy to catch-yoi" Yeah yeah shut up. Absolutely asks what his reward is just to see your shocked face (absolutely asks again later when you two are alone).
Sabo
VILLAIN!!!!!! Sorry only way i can describe how devious and obsessed this man would be. Like Izou he tries to snatch you immediately but you planned for this so you manage to spring out of his grip in time. You falter a bit at his reaction then because he just blinks at you for a while. You start to feel a bit nervous and when he finally grins at you, you definitely feel nervous. "Playing like that are we honey? How about I give you a headstart then?" Evil. You know he's going to catch you. He knows he's going to catch you. He's just giving you false hope but yk hope is hope so you take the chance.
You don't get far. It's not even fair how quickly he catches up to you and gets you underneath him, it takes him barely any effort, not even a strand of hair is out of place. Spends the next 10 minutes kissing you on the floor of the hallway until Koala comes back and promptly drags him back into his office.
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sanguineterrain · 14 days
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im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!
thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3
jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.
read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary
****
"Go home."
"Bruce, I—"
Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.
The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.
"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."
You take a step back at his coldness.
"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"
"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."
But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.
He'd felt safe.
"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."
That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.
"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."
"But if you would just listen—"
"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."
"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.
"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."
You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.
You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.
You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.
****
It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.
In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.
But not at the expense of civilian lives.
"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."
You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.
You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.
You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.
The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.
You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.
You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.
Oh, of all the fucking—
"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.
"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"
You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.
And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.
"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"
Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.
"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"
A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"
Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."
He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.
"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."
He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"
Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.
But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.
He was in the factory to help.
Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.
Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.
You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."
"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."
"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."
"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"
You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.
But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.
Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.
You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.
You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.
You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.
That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.
"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.
Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.
Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.
"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.
"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"
"She was unconscious, J'y..."
Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.
****
You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.
For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.
Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.
So who's cooking?
You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.
Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.
The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.
The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.
He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.
The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.
You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.
He catches it without turning.
Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.
A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.
"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."
"Why are you in my apartment?"
Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.
This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.
He sighs, back still facing you.
"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.
"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."
Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.
"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."
Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.
He turns around.
The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.
You were right: Batman was wrong.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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de-aged Danny is one of my babies,
Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”
Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little
The Waynes knew that Jason had become far more distant since his accident. Bruce blamed himself, but in the end, it was Joker all over again.
The family had been on other missions when a distress call from Bruce came in. They all raced to give aid- if it was Bruce calling, then you know it was a huge deal- only to find their father figure pressing his hands desperately to the neck of a bleeding Jason.
The Joker had sliced his neck in one of his sick games.
They were able to get him to medical aid and save his life, but the damage to his vocal cords had been too severe. Jason would never be able to speak again.
Since then, Jason has kept his distance. The whole family was fluent in sign language- one of the first of many languages Bruce had them learn for their Bat training- but it only helped them if Jason wanted to sign around them.
It felt like the second oldest was actively trying to avoid the acknowledgment of his injury. Little by little, Jason began to drift away from the family. He no longer arrived early for family dinners to help Alfred cook, he did not say for games or movies afterward, he found excuses to not hang out with the family members, and even after patrol, he left as soon as he finished.
Even texts were becoming less and less frequent. The Wayne children attempt to surprise visit him just so they can make sure he isn't alone until Jason starts jumping between safe houses.
Jason is isolating himself, and the Waynes are alarmed by the way he is retreating into himself. This continued for months, and nothing they did worked to help him.
Despite the desperate attempts to connect to him, Jason was too far gone to be reached. He did not die, but they lost him all the same.
Then, one day, out of the blue, Jason's distance changed. Yes, he was still not coming around the family much, but the sadness on his shoulders loosened.
His demeanor was still tired, but not as if his soul was exhausted. He still ran off after patrol, but instead of a shameful shuffle, his stride was more excited.
No one knew why, but Wyanes breathed a sigh of relief at the change.
They also had some theories.
"He has a lover!" Dick exclaims after watching Jason run off the second Bruce dismisses them. He had stopped to clean himself up a little before riding out as Jason, the civilian. "He's going to go get ready for a hot date."
"He found a new book series." Duke offered as Jason seemed to be writing in a little notebook. He was thoughtful and dazed as he wrote like whatever notes he took were something he would revisit again. "He is writing fanfiction again."
"His crime empire is being threatened, so he is slowly picking off traitors," Tim proposed after seeing Jason upgrade his security to his home and safe houses. He even added a new line to the cons so that he could listen to his home like a Bat version of a baby monitor. "Doing it quick and quietly to not let them escape."
"He is going back to school!" Steph announced happily when she saw him at the store buying school supplies. "He can finally get that diploma he has always wanted!"
"He has found a new passion for a hobby," Damian countered after seeing Jason look over his old art easel. Jason had asked Damian what he recommended for a beginner. "It's allowing him to have an outlet in a creative, healthy manner."
"He has fallen for a book character again and can't tell the difference between reality and Fiction." Bruce fretted after seeing Jason chuckle to himself at post-it notes that had little hearts in his lunch box. They were signed by Jason's favorite characters in a writing that was reasonably similar to Jason's.
Cass only smiled knowingly, but she always seemed to know more of what was happening than the rest, no matter the situation.
The only other person who knew more than her was Alfred, but that man would never share secrets with anyone for any reason.
Jason seemed unaware of their theories or concerns (Bruce) since he was always busy doing whatever he was doing. It got to the point they decided to follow him about, only becoming more confused when Jason visited places like pre-schools and kid-friendly parks around the city.
It didn't help that Jason caught on to the fact he was being followed, leading the Bats all over the city to random locations and had them fumbling about what was a natural destination and what was retaliation for the trailing.
Then, one night, while the Bats were meeting up on a rooftop for some briefing and a breather, the new con line sprung to life, scaring everyone connected to it out of their skins.
"There is a strange man in the house!" A voice screeched. A young voice, one that didn't even sound like it belonged to someone who had reached their double digits.
At once, Jason jumped from his slouched-over position near the building's roof door and flung himself over the edge. His grabbing hook hissed as the large man threw himself across the rooftops frantically.
Stunned, the Bats watched him go, unsure of what was happening, until the young voice spoke again, a soft whisper. "He is in the hall- he has a knife."
A strange crackle of fire and electricity was heard over the con, and it took them all a moment to realize that it had come from Jason. The child- a boy based on the voice- responded with a slight tremble. "I'm hiding in my closet. I'm scared."
The words of a distressed child kickstart their brains, and everyone snaps to attention.
"Oracle, where is the signal originating from?" Bruce snaps, throwing himself over the edge to follow Jason. The rest of the family is right behind him.
"Jason's safe house in Uptown Gotham," Babs responds instantly with the accompanying clicking of her keyboard. She sucks a breath through her teeth in a pained hiss. "B, the address for Jason's safe house... it's connected to Upper Smiles Preschool for Danny Todd. Jason is marked as his father."
There is ice in everyone's veins when she says that as Danny- Jason's son- lets out a choked sob, then a scream that horrifies everyone as they try to run faster. "He found me! Help! Help! Daddy! Help!"
A boom goes off across the communicator, and they know Jason is responsible for the nose, but there is no explosion. Not that it matters.
They, too, understand what Jason meant by the strange noise he made- it's a protective rage that someone would dare to even think of harming one of their own.
Every Wayne pushes themselves past their limits, unwilling to let themselves be too late.
"Hold on, sweetheart, help is on the way. Hit him with anything around you until it gets there." Babs tells him, her voice cracking as Danny cries, and a man yelling can be heard.
"You little shit!" An unknown roars, and everyone hates him instantly. "I'll teach you some fucking manners!"
"Let me go! Let me go!"
They are ten minutes out even when they drop into the batmobile and company bikes. Jason is only eight. But every second feels like a lifetime as they listen to what Danny is going through.
There are sounds of struggles, of a tiny voice screaming and crying, then- gunshots.
Two loud and clear gunshots. Then silence, the kind that makes even a grave loud.
Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of pain, and everyone is in no better state. The silence over the con is just as devastating as Jason's mournful crackle, like a dying fire.
No. No gods, no, please don't let this mean Danny is-
"Not to worry, dear child, I am here." Alfred's warm, soothing voice is heard, and everyone almost collapses in relief. Danny's cries are muffled like his face is pressed against something as Alfred coos. "It's alright. It's alright, you're safe now. Shh"
Jason makes a sound similar to thunder.
"Yes, Master Jason, I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to bring my great-grandson a little present and saw this healthen mucking about where he does not belong. I shall be moving Danny to the manor."
It's a command that does not allow any arguing, but no one dares to say anything as they collectively change direction to the manor. Patrol for the night has been canceled.
They had a new little addition to the family that needed them more than ever. Now that they knew about him, they would never allow Jason to keep Danny away from them.
Later in the night, after hugs, kisses, and greetings, Danny is painting alongside Damian. He standing on a small stool to reach the easel, wearing an apron with the Batman symbol, and is smiling like there are no troubles in the world.
Everyone's heart melts when he asks them if they can sit still for him to paint a family portrait. He isn't Jason's by blood, but that has hardly mattered to a family such as the Waynes.
All they need to know is that Danny was found wandering around Jason's old safe house, speaking in the strange sounds that Jason could make, and was the cause for the second oldest to regain his joy of life.
All that mattered was that tiny, little six-year-old Danny Todd was one of theirs, and they would love him with all their hearts.
Master Post Link
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ex boyfriend!dick grayson is distraught.
it’s been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes since the two of you broke up. not that anyone is counting.
his days are spent with him walking around like a zombie.
batman has to practically yell into the comms link to even get a reply during patrol. dick’s not even sure he’s been putting his suit on properly. two nights ago he only went out with one escrima stick. he almost lost a fight with some goons, and one of them asked him if he had a death wish. he went home bruised, his lip bloodied, wondering if maybe he did have a death wish.
he tried going out to the store. he was out of shaving cream and eggs. dick made it as far as the produce section. he had a staring contest with the apples for ten minutes, and left without buying anything.
the first week he kept wearing hats. seeing his hair in the mirror practically made his eye twitch with the memory of you running your hands through it. he could almost hear you cooing over how nice it looks long.
“dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick, you look so handsome! are you growing it out? dick you look so—”
he cuts it a week later, sick of his brothers making fun of him for the hats and sick of your voice in his ear.
he barely touches his hair now, his hands nothing compared to the way yours felt on his scalp. almost every other night he cries in the shower, thinking about the way your eyes would flash when you’d offer to wash his hair for him. you’d always bite your lip in this cute way when you slicked all his hair back, the soap fluffy in your hands. you’d wiggle your eyebrows and call him distinguished, and then pull it up into a mohawk and tell him to call up jason and ask to join the outlaws. a few nights ago he made the mistake of looking at your razor, still on the shower caddy. he cried so hard his head hurt the next morning like he’d had a hangover.
his family stops whispering when he enters rooms, their worry and concern growing more obvious by the day. alfred won’t stop feeding him. bruce keeps looking him over, his eyebrows furrowed. jason left at least four self help books on his coffee table and in his cubby in the batcave. tim took over all of the video surveillance batman had assigned him, waving him away when dick tried to insist it was okay, and that he could do it. steph wouldn’t stop high fiving him? cass hugged him, at least three times. wally tried to get him to go out, but dick drank one beer and left, walking home in the pouring rain like he was in a music video. wally took the hint, but started texting him good morning, every day. even damian stopped picking on him, instead asking to spar just so dick would have something else to think about. it didn’t work, obviously, but he’d mussed damian’s hair, giving him a wan smile on the way out of the practice room. he’d left immediately after.
he spent the rest of the day at home thinking about how he’d always let you win when the two of you would play wrestle. you had this expression you’d make right before, where your eyes would squint a little and the corner of your mouth would turn up. the whole time you’d dated, dick was never able to figure out if it was because you were about to play fight or fuck. he loved it.
his nights are full of tossing and turning.
he spent the first week not washing his sheets, sleeping face down on your side of the bed. the second week he washed his sheets every night, trying to rid his nose of the phantom smell of you. the pillowcase you used is shoved deep into his linen cabinet. he now sleeps on the couch. he had to wash all of his t shirts too, the ones you’d steal to wear to bed with nothing under. he rummaged through his dresser in his old room in Wayne Manor hoping to find ones to wear that didn’t smell like you. ones that didn’t make him think of you pulling them off in the middle of the night, to then sink down onto his cock. you’d toss it onto the ground while you straddled him, smiling down at him.
he couldn’t sit and watch tv without thinking of all the times he’d gone down on you on the couch.
couldn’t brush his teeth without seeing the last time he’d bent you over the sink, thrusting into you while your breath fogged the bathroom mirror.
he couldn’t go out to eat at any of the restaurants by his apartment without seeing the two of you at a table, you stealing one of his fries or swapping sandwiches to try the other’s order.
he still couldn’t go to the little family-owned grocery store, not when the old couple that ran it knew both of you by name.
couldn’t look at his keys without seeing the keychains you’d bought him.
his every waking moment was spent with thinking of you, all you, always you.
you were everywhere,
he thought about how you’d beamed when he’d first asked you out, your eyes shining when you’d nodded yes.
how surprised you’d looked when he finally told you he was nightwing, and how you made him pinky swear to be careful.
he couldn’t appreciate enough how you had always been gracious when he’d show up late to dates, bruce always needing his help with something or other.
he thought of the way you’d looked washing the dishes, up to your elbows in suds when he’d roll in from the window, coming up behind you to kiss you and push you over to the couch while he’d finished the dishes, still in his nightwing suit.
what you’d looked like when you opened the promise ring he got you, and showed you his matching one. you’d both gotten teary eyed then.
the way you tried to hide the fact you’d been crying when he came home from patrol one night.
when your expression would change after he’d tell you he had to miss a family dinner at your mom’s house. you thought he wouldn’t notice but c’mon, he was trained by batman.
how your face had crumpled like his heart did when he had realized what he needed to do. when he had said he loved you more than anything, but knew that you deserved to be treated better, and that he couldn’t give you that right now. couldn’t give you all of his time like he wanted to.
you’d accepted it, nodding while tears slipped down your cheeks silently, walking out of his apartment to go stay at your mom’s house.
it’d been two weeks, three days, ten hours, and seven minutes, yet dick hadn’t accepted it. and your toothbrush was still next to his. so he didn’t think you’d really accepted it either.
but yet, you were now nowhere.
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evilminji · 8 months
Text
Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:
"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)
Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.
So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.
God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.
Don't get why everyone's so upset.
Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.
And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.
Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!
There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!
Then? Danny showes up.
Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.
Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.
So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.
TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.
He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.
It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.
He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.
Right there.
IN THE WATCHTOWER.
In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.
People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.
Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...
And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."
N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.
Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?
NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.
Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.
Just? Marriage Meet Cute.
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe
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bruciemilf · 2 years
Text
IMAGINE AN AU WHERE THOMAS AND MARTHA COME BACK TO LIFE??? No magic explains it. No science CAN.
Tim is wrecking his brains trying to find a logical, sane reason as to why his dead grandparents (who aren't dead - for the time being) are currently sitting in the living room, eating Alfred's cookies, and looking around for Bruce
" Chum?! Chum! It's dad! Come here! Who's this in our living room?"
" Bruce! Mommy's home! I'm sorry for being gone for so long, but that movie was just so long, I-"
Tim freezes. They think Bruce is still eight.
And Bruce walks in; drawn by the noise and Alfred's attempts to sit the pair down.
More wound than man, drowning in a dark shirt and sweatpants, eyes punched purple and dark red and bruised to hell and back;
His arm is broken, his leg too, and Tim knows for a fact he shouldn't be walking around with those five broken ribs. But God, - he's never seen his dad look so tiny before; So glassy-eyed and shaken.
For the love of all that's holy let Martha Wayne gently frame Bruce's face with her hands and stare at him, dusting off time with her eyes, and let Thomas do the same.
"...Mama?"
" ...BRUCE?!"
LET THOMAS AND MARTHA BE PROTECTIVE AS FUCK OVER THEIR SON! LET THEM MEET THEIR GRANDKIDS! Let Thomas " Catch These Hands" Wayne and Jason " Catch This Murder" Todd BOND.
" Look, I know what you're going to say, Gramps. I shouldn't blame dad for not wanting to kill Joker,"
" Yes, but that's behind us, big guy"
" And that murder isn't the answer and that I should just move on, but,-"
" Oh, no! That guy's a monster and we need to put him down. What's his address?"
GIVE ME BRUCE AND MARTHA PLAYING PIANO TOGETHER WHILE CASS FORCES DAMIAN INTO A DANCE WITH HER! GIVE ME MARTHA MAKING DICK BLUSH BY ASKING ABOUT " this pretty Kori girl in your phone"
Most importantly, give me Thomas and Martha Wayne trying to convince Bruce to give up Batman. Thomas says it'd be an easy enough job, someone else can do it! Bruce pouts, " Try doing it, then"
Thomas almost breaks his back by pretending to be Batman for like a night and becomes the new meme of Gotham when he steals a shotgun from Alfred and just patrols with it
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deadsetobsessions · 2 months
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As the girl who came up with the Triplet! Tim AU PLEASSEEEEE continue it!!!!! I NEED to see Bruce who thought he had one robin finding out he actually has three separate completely different ones
I gotchu lmfao I think I’ll get to Bruce later? I’m really happy you liked it omg like that idea is so good
——
Their plan was perfect! It would have been perfect, had it not been for Dick Grayson and his nosy face!
Batman might not have known his identity, but Dick Grayson did. He promised to keep it from Batman, but Tim hadn’t exactly thought about his secret identity when he showed up to harass the man into being Robin again.
And now, they’re paying for it.
Tim leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched Dick cradle his head in his hands, looking half a short breath away from a mental breakdown.
“Are you telling me… there’s three of you?”
“Yes, Dick.” Tim sighed, having answered this exact question ten times in the past two minutes.
Dick lifted his head, wide eyes looking a little feverish… no, looking a little manic.
“Tim. Your name is Tim, right? I’m not-”
“Yes, my name is Tim. Technically, so are the others. But the one here with us is Lionel.”
“No, wait, Tim, you understand how this is- insane, right? It’s not even remotely in the realm of mentally healthy.” Dick paused. “Wait, are you skipping school right now?!?”
“Has anyone ever told you your priorities are screwed up, Dick?” Lionel-Tim walked back into the room, hands full of snacks and, most importantly, Dick’s emergency marshmallow bag. Dick turned to Lionel, eyes full of guilt, and grabbed the bag of marshmallows like a dehydrated man in the middle of a desert who’s only couple of feet away from an oasis that he’s been looking for for days.
“Oh my god. I’ve had three younger brothers and I thought they were all the same kid!” Dick wailed, grabbing a handful of marshmallows and stress cramming it into his mouth. Tim threw him a disgusted look.
“To be fair, we made sure to train to act like each other from a really early age,” Tim said, snatching the bag of chips that Lionel chucked at his head. His snack laden triplet plonked himself on the plush spinning chair, shoving a hand inside the bag of gummy worms and cramming it down his throat as he spun around.
“I can’t believe I’ve never even checked up on you at your place!! If I did, I would have noticed it way earlier!”
“Probably not,” Lionel mumbled through his mouthful of colorful gummy worms. “You only caught us because Tim got beat half to death by an edgy crime lord teenager.”
Dick hunched into himself, a myriad of complicated emotions- largely, guilt and fury and heartbreak- wormed its way past his face. Tim glared and threw a chip at his triplet.
“It’s fine, Dick. Lionel’s just being an asshole. We’re taking care of it. Revenge prank.” Tim explained.
“He wouldn’t have caught us and you know it.” Lionel grumbled.
“I’ll help.” Dick mumbled dejectedly.
“You’ll have to get in line, Wing,” Tim went back to his laptop. “My thirds got first dibs, and I’m not planning on staying still either. I’m gonna mess with Jason’s slush funds.”
“He’s got a stash of cash locked up in the fourth safe house, but that’s not interesting. Look!” Lionel proudly displayed a duffle bag- from where he got it from, Dick had no clue- and unzipped it to show batteries, lightbulbs, and random bits and bobs.
“What is that?” Dick asked.
“That’s the second lightbulb in his bathroom light! This is the left battery in his TV remote! And this is half of his back up boot laces. I took all of his 10 mm sockets! And the specialized socket he got for his bike! And this,” Lionel grinned, lifting up a piece of fabric. “Is his pillow case!”
“Niceee.” Tim whistled. He tossed a piece of tech at Lionel. “Sneak back into his house and put that in between his pillows. It’ll keep both sides uncomfortably warm.”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Is… this revenge for almost killing you?” Dick asked.
“It’s either this or complete and total financial ruin, social death, and then actual death.” Tim tapped away at his laptop.
“You’re kind of scary, you know that?”
“We know!” Lionel chirped.
“Base, come in.”
“Base,” Tim quickly replied, laser focused on Archy’s call. Lionel and Dick quieted.
“Hood’s lurking outside the school like a creep,” Archy muttered into the comm, papers rustling behind him.
Dick tensed, upset making itself visible once more.
“You still have the container I gave you this morning in your pocket?”
“Yes.”
Tim smirked in a way that made Dick suddenly have a horrible need to shake and lecture him on the moralities of not becoming a villain. “It’s glitter. Purple and pinks.”
“…Ah.”
“Godspeed, Archy!” Lionel chirped again, sounding slightly more demented.
A moment of silence before-
“Oof!” A puff. “Oh, no! I’m so sorry, mister!”
On the other end of the comm, the gruff voice of a beefy teenager spluttered, “What- why do you- egh- my mouth! The glitter went into- pleh, pleh! What the fuck, kid?!”
“I’m so sorry! It was supposed to be for a project! I worked so hard to mix the colors right! Wait, stay still, mister! I’ll help!”
Archy, eyes wide and innocent, patted some more glitter onto the vigilante.
“No, stop! Stop! You’re getting it on my bike!”
“It’s a pretty color- oh hey, this is open-”
“No! That’s the fuel tank!”
“Oh! Whoops! Sorry!”
As chaos spread on the other side of the comms, Tim and Lionel burst into cackles. Dick choked on the marshmallows, helplessly shaking with laughter.
Lionel whacked at Dick’s back, hysterically giggling.
“That’s- that’s Archy?”
“Archy pretending to be Lionel pretending to be me yeah. I hope he got glitter in the fuel tank.” Tim grinned.
“Want me to patrol tonight to see if he got the glitter out of his bike?”
Lionel jabbed his pointy elbows onto Dick’s shoulders. “Absolutely. Distract him, too! I gotta mess with his safe houses. He’ll never feel comfortable in a safe house ever again.”
“Don’t go overboard, Lionel.” Tim looked up. “But also, I changed his WiFi passwords to 123456, so do with that what you will.”
Lionel grinned. Dick mustered up a smile in response, pushing the guilt away. He had a lot to make up to his little brothers, and if terrorizing Jason was how he was going to accomplish that… well, Dick’s not feeling too nice about Jason right now.
——
Batman squinted suspiciously at a humming Nightwing.
“Something happen?” He managed to ask.
“Hm? Oh, no, I got some nice pictures.”
“…I see.”
Batman, regardless of what his history might suggest, knew how to pick his battles. This? This thing that brought Nightwing’s murder smile? This was one battle he was willing to walk away from.
“Hey, B, you ever think about adopting more kids?”
Batman choked and promptly grappled away. Nightwing cackled.
“You can’t escape the question!”
Batman ran faster.
553 notes · View notes
Text
BACK TO THE NIGHTMARES
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Pairing - Jonathan Crane x Robin!fem!reader
Summary - Even though you go under the alias of Robin whilst fighting crime in Gotham. Your past catches up to you with a certain Doctor that always had a fascination for you.
Warnings - noncon!, violence, dead dove do not eat, rough sex, abuse physical and mentally, bondage.
Word count - 6.3k+
Notes - This was actually the first Cillian fanfic I wrote ages ago and idk highkey just posting it for the lolz.
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The name Jonathan Crane was an open wound to you. No matter how much you would try to cover it, it would bleed back open without you noticing. 
You were an orphan at the age of 16. Your family’s tragic death broke you completely, it led to a life of deviance and crime in Gotham City. Your father had you trained in martial arts from an early age, so it benefited your unlawful acts of theft and robbery. However, you would only steal from the greedy. 
You first met Doctor Jonathan Crane when you were hardly an adult. You were arrested for robbing some rich asshole that scammed all of his workers. If only you weren’t so determined to beat the crap out of him you would have gotten away. Your lawyer told you to take the insanity plea, a major reduction of time locked away convinced you to agree with your lawyer. Worst mistake ever. You could tell he wasn’t right in the head as soon as you saw him, despite his charming face. 
When he put on the mask, your worst nightmares came to life. 
It felt like years, being under him as an experiment (even though it was only a couple of months). You fascinated him. He spent a lot of time with you at Arkham. He would tell you how you were his favorite little experiment and that he treated you so much nicer than the others. As if that was a compliment. It was dehumanizing, how he tortured you with your worst fears. To the point that he was your worst fear. You were able to fight back at him a couple of times, get a few good hits in. Despite the consequences, you didn’t regret it. 
Thankfully, The Batman saved you. Bruce heard of your story and felt sympathy for you. You never knew how ballistic Jonathan went when he got the call that you had escaped. And how he swore one day you would be underneath him again. 
Bruce wanted to help you, he felt your pain and struggles. It took you a while, but you agreed, under the hidden agenda that you would use your training to kill Jonathan. He trained you, physically and logically. Also helped you heal, enough to keep Jonathan out of your mind for most of the day. You eventually became Robin. Suit and all. 
When you thought you were ready, you snuck out of the manor. Your mind set on killing Doctor Jonathan Crane. You waited outside by the outside alleyway of Arkham, ready to pounce as soon as you saw him. When he was descending the stairs, you bolted to him. You swiftly pushed him down to the ground and hell broke loose. Punch after punch, kick after kick. You wanted him to suffer, just as he made you suffer. Jonathan tried to defend himself but couldn’t. You straddled him, the street lamp illuminated Jonathan’s eyes wide with fear, you somehow felt guilt. But you pushed that feeling aside, ready to use the final blow. 
But The Batman interfered. He pulled you off of him, a tight grip around your waist, and in a second, Jonathan was shrinking under you. The both of you landed on an exterior landing staircase and he reattached the batclaw to his belt. You shoved Bruce viciously and hissed. 
Bruce shook his head to you, as if you were a child. “I’m disappointed in you” he scolded. 
“Fuck off Bruce!” you growled. 
“I did not train you to become an executioner” he continued. “You do not decide who lives and dies” Bruce stated, leaning on the railing. 
“We both know I’m not the only person he tortured! It would be a mercy kill for the city of Gotham. You know he doesn’t deserve to live” you scoffed. You both had your points. You huffed and looked back down, he was gone. Bruce placed his hands on your shoulders, comforting you. 
“His day will come, we just need to wait for the right moment. Trust me” he reassured. 
And his day did come. Jonathan was arrested for numerous charges after his toxin exposure into the water system. You were free. Or so you thought. He disappeared after the League of Shadows incident. Bruce said he would never dare to return. You thought the same. 
Over the years, you assisted Bruce on missions, both with an agreeing mindset of making Gotham better. Your name became popular in the public eye, Batman and Robin. The vigilante’s sidekick in Gotham crime. You became obsessed with bringing criminals to justice. Sometimes you’d stay up for hours, listening to police radios waiting for something worth your time. Honestly anything was worth your time. But Bruce told you that you have to draw a line. 
Bruce was out of the country. Something had come up elsewhere, you asked to join but he gave a sly grin and said “someone has to protect Gotham”. 
Here you were again, sitting on the rooftop, the moonlight shining on you. Your feet dangled as you watched the moon, a police radio sitting next to you as you waited. You couldn’t sleep much anyways, the nightmares still couldn’t go away. That’s when it caught your eye, the Bat-Signal in the sky. You stood up immediately. Bruce forbids you from going alone. But he wasn't here, he wasn’t even in the country. This was a gray area in your agreement. Oh well, it’s probably something stupid anyways. 
You were quickly dressed and sped to the building. Adrenaline rushed through your blood. You were up there in no time. But by the time you were sneaking up to the rooftop, the light was turned off. You could hear Commissioner Gordon, yabbering about how some deviant must have snuck up to turn it on as a practical joke. You listened to him close the heavy door and sighed, climbing onto the rooftop regardless. Disappointment filled you as you sat on the ledge, overlooking Gotham. 
“What’s got you down, little one?” that familiar, terrifying voice captured your attention. Chills ran down your spine and your chest tightened. You spun around up onto your feet to see him. Jonathan Crane. Your heart raced. He was wearing his mask, he stood tall with his hands behind his back. He loved to call you little one, even after all of this time. 
“Scarecrow” you snarled, bracing for a fight. But you had to remind yourself what Bruce taught you. You also had to force your nerves to the side. 
He said your name. “You know me better than that” he said enthusiastically. Your face dropped. He couldn’t know it was you. How could he know it was you! He laughed at your frozen state. “Even though you beat me bloody that night, eyes never change” he explained, you could sense the grin on his lips. 
“So this was your plan? You want a repeat then?” you laughed, brushing off your nerves. Fists formed and jaw clenched as you waited for his move. 
“Not exactly, The Batman isn’t here to save you this time. In Prague the news broadcast shows” he mentioned, mocking ‘The Batman’.
It was impossible not to laugh. Who did he think he was?
Your feelings got the better of you. The actions of neutral good left you, your judgment clouded by your locked away anger towards this man. He was to die at your hands at this very moment, he didn’t deserve to live. Pure evil doesn’t get to walk free.  
“I’m going to enjoy this” you gritted your teeth. 
With a flash, you charged towards him and tackled him to the ground. You straddled him, ready to knock his teeth out but noticed his arm raise towards you. With a swift movement, you grab his arm and rip the fear toxic from out of his sleeve. Fuck this guy, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. You ripped off his mask and aimed the canister towards his face and released the gas. 
You breathed in the substance instantly and it blurred your sight. He tricked you. You jumped off of him and coughed intensely. The effects from the substance got to work immediately. Jonathan looked terrifying, your heart raced, body shock and anxiety felt heavy on your chest. No, you still had to fight. You yelled in anger and fear as you threw a punch at him, heart pounding in your chest and mouth hanging open. But your reflexes slowed down so much. He dodged you, effortlessly. Another attempt failed, again and again. Jonathan shoved you to the floor and you fell onto your back. His shoe pressed into your chest, keeping you down. 
“Stop, you’re wasting your energy” his voice sounded demonic. You still tried to fight him off. With a huff, Jonathan bent down and mounted you. You screamed at how close he was, there was no hallucination to his appearance. He looked exactly how you remembered and it haunted you. It was pointless trying to hide the fear he brings upon you in this state. His eyes were dark and expression was blank as his hands tugged onto your loose hair. “There, there, little one. You’re safe with me. You have nothing to fear” he cooed at you with a wicked grin as he pressed his crotch into you. 
You were frozen underneath him, you tried to move but couldn’t. Was this a newly developed substance? Or was your body in shock because of him. Your body trembled and you just wanted to call out for Bruce. With all of your strength, you hand slipped to your belt, searching for the distress beacon. Your actions went noticed by Jonathan and he smacked your hand away. He laughed as he picked up the device and threw it to the side. 
“What did I say again? The Batman isn’t here to save you this time” he mocked, his hands feeling up your body animalistically. He ordered you to sleep and for some reason you did. Falling from one nightmare to another. 
You groaned, your head was aching, but your thoughts were softened with the feeling of fuzziness. The fear toxin had worn off. Your lips were cracked dry as your head rolled from side to side. Your eyes peaked open, you lightly hissed at the bright light piercing above you. Slowly, your eyes became fully wide. You took in a deep breath as you analyzed your unfamiliar surroundings. Everything was white. The walls, counter, floor, exam table and the medical bed you laid on. You harshly blinked as you looked down at your body. A loud, uneased breath echoed throughout the silent room as you stared at yourself. You were wearing a white patient gown and your wrists and ankles were restrained to the bed. 
“You’re awake, finally” the dark voice traveled to your ears from behind. It sent shivers down your spine, knowing who it was immediately, Jonathan Crane. You took into note how his appearance has changed a bit. Just his hair cut shorter and he looked a bit older. If you saw him as a stranger on the street you would think him to be charming. He took slow steps towards you, raising the fear on your cold skin with him approaching you. His hand rested on your shoulder, almost as if to comfort you. “Now the fun can begin” the words slithered off of his tongue. You lied there frozen. Completely clueless of what was about to occur. He sat on the stool beside you and watched you like a hawk. “I had to strip you immediately you know, The Batman had a tracking device on your suit. He must really not trust you. You’ve always made dumb decisions, remember?” he chuckled, speaking casually to you. 
Anger consumed you, you struggled against the restraints and then you froze from the realization of how easy your inner thighs rubbed together. You looked down at your body, and saw your hardened nipples from the cool room poke through the thin cotton. You could feel your body prepare itself to hyperventilate. “You’re going to-” you gasped as you couldn’t finish your sentence, tears flooding your eyes. 
“No no no” Jonathan soothed, leaning closer to you. His fingers interlocked with yours. “You’re going to want me to fuck you, sweetheart” he flashed a smile. It looked pure at first glance, but the longer you stared, the quicker the evil painted over. 
“Help!” you screamed over and over again. Jonathan couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. God you were still such a fucking whiny bitch. 
Robin was gone, now you were just the broken girl that fell into his hands all of those years ago. It was shocking to see how easily broken you’ve gotten. All of this training and skills for what? You should stand strong, just take it, show no fear and pain. But you were just a girl. 
“No point in screaming. We’re not at Arkham. We’re very far away from Gotham” he sighed, looking up to the ceiling briefly. He yanked a dry cloth from the exam table and stood up. 
“Please Jonathan-” you yelped as he viciously gripped your chin and pulled your face closer to him. 
“Doctor Crane to you” he spat. But he didn’t loosen his iron grip. Your eyes were wide as he stared at you with anger. How dare you. You were not equals. You tried to nod your head against his iron grip. Once he let go you took a large gasp.
He leaned over you and forcefully shoved the cloth into your mouth. You cried, your eyes pleading with him as if it would actually make a difference. He admired the sight below him. “Look at you my sweet, all bound up” he commented, his hand trailing across your collarbones. “You thought you were fucking better than me, smarter, stronger. You dumb fucking whore. Don’t worry, I’ll show you your place. Right under me, figuratively and literally” he explained, the back of his cold hand raised to your flustered cheek. “I’m going to fix you” he said quietly. 
Your eyes didn’t follow him. You couldn’t dare to look at him. Jonathan sat back on the stool. He looked back up to you, noticing the tears slipping down your cheeks. “Oh don’t cry. You wanted to bring me down too. I just acted sharper than you. You let your emotions cloud your judgment, you only have yourself to blame” he elucidated.
He had a point. You were taught better. But you chose to react the way you did. Nevertheless, you didn’t deserve to be in this situation. 
He’s waited so long for this moment. The patience this man has had for this moment. It was all worth it. Now he has the power to break you down mentally and physically. You muffled into the rag, trying to plead with him. 
“I care about you” he randomly admitted. “Even after all this time” he mumbled slightly. It shocked you, this monster having feelings for someone other than himself? Impossible. “More importantly I care about how you feel about me” he added, leaning closer to your face. “So, I’m going to please you to show you just how much I care about you” he grinned, his hand tapping your cheek. 
You knew exactly what that meant. You aggressively thrashed your body. This couldn’t be happening, you needed to get out of here, out of these restraints. Your muffled cries echoed throughout the room. The breakdown quickly unfolded when you realized it was pointless. Your eyes squinted shut, this had to be a dream, a nightmare. You needed to remain calm, what he said was true. Your judgment was clouded by your emotions. What would Bruce do? Fuck, as if he would ever end up in a situation like this.  
You were too focused on your attempts to control your breathing to realize that your ankle restraints had been uncuffed. Jonathan pushed your ankles up, bringing your knees up closer to your chest. He reattached the restraints to a closer pole, keeping your knees at a 155 degree bend. Your gown rode up to your hips, exposing your bare pussy. That’s when you realized what he had done. Jonathan walked over to the counter, opened a draw and retrieved a pair of silver scissors. He looked back at you and gave you a wicked grin. Your head shook excessively, as if it would change anything. 
“I’ve wanted to do this since I met you. I regret not fucking you in Arkham. I was just such a workaholic I didn’t want my urges to get in the way. I thought of it as unprofessional. But I’ve become open to exploring new methods” he said slowly as he approached you. You resisted, knowing it was pointless but it was natural reflexes regardless. He towered over you, briefly admiring you before cutting the gown straight down the middle. You cried out as the last inch was snipped apart. Jonathan grinned as his large hands traveled all over your heated body. “I jerked off to you after every session” he admitted proudly, playing with your plump tits. He pushed the cut gown to the sides of your body, you were completely exposed to him, mentally and physically. “I’m going to eat your cunt out now baby” he told you with a smirk. The low tone terrified you. 
He stood directly in front of you, his body leaned over onto the end of the bed. He crawled up high enough for his upper body to easily lay on the bed. “God, you’re fucking dripping!” he exclaimed as he examined your wet region. “Is this all because of me, my sweetness?” he taunted. You refused to give him any pleasure by responding. But he was too focused on the sight of your sweet spot anyways. 
Jonathan examined your cunt. His fingers stroked your folds. You whined, shaking your restricted body in an attempt to get him to back off. He harshly smacked your pussy and you cried into the cloth. “Stop resisting” he growled, his long fingers returning to their playful manner. 
You didn’t like this, at all. However, from his touch you couldn’t help but to feel weakened. Your knees felt like jelly. The further his strokes went, the heavier your breathing got. You didn’t notice your hips flex forward to Jonathan, back arching. He grinned at your sexual response to his touch. You liked this, he knew you did. One finger slipped inside of you, causing you to groan painfully. Fuck, you were tight. Pristine tight. You cried as he finger curled inside of you. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up to you, realization glowed in his eyes. 
“Oh my” he breathed out as he analyzed your expression. He slid another finger inside of you to confirm his theory, you were a sobbing mess from this. “Oh my!” he exclaimed as he pulled his fingers out. He climbed on top of you and grabbed onto your jawline. “Did you forget to tell me something very important darling?” he questioned you, a wicked smirk on his cold lips. Your eyes swelled up, this was so humiliating. You kept your eyes low and he harshly tapped his fingers onto your cheek until you looked up to him. “Have you ever been touched? Fucked?” His dark eyes demanded an answer, his hands loosened enough for you to lower your jaw. He forgot about the cloth in your mouth from excitement. 
You could always lie, but he knew when you were lying. You shook your head, still in his grip.
“Not even by yourself?”
Another shake of the head. 
A dark laugh echoed through the room. “Fuck, do you know how arousing that sounds? Too busy fighting crime to get dicked down. No wonder you’re such a stuck up cunt hm?” he chuckled, caressing your heated cheeks.
Jonathan’s words were too overwhelming. So you just cried, face still in his grip. He comforted you by petting your cheeks and brushing your hair to the side. He couldn’t help but to feel irritated by this information as well. A sudden urge to make love to you rather than to fuck you. No, you’ll like the way he fucks you. There is no choice in the matter. When your cries became minimized he slid back down your exposed body.
“You’re going to taste so fucking devine” he commented, stroking your gushing region once more. “Your body will be so delicate to my touch. I can’t wait to explore all of these new experiences with you. If you are good and embrace my touch I’ll take it easy with you. If not, I’ll make you scream. Not in a good way” Jonathan explained as he gripped onto your outer thighs. 
You whined at the first lick, eyes rolling back as your head dug back into the bed. Jonathan quietly moaned at your sweet taste. It was everything he dreamed of and more. His lips attacked your cunt as his tongue slipped inside of you. A scream of pleasure escaped your mouth. It was humiliating, enjoying pleasure from this evil man. You harshly bit onto the cloth to avoid another muffled moan satisfying his ears. It was amazing with how quickly your orgasm was building, it had only been a couple of minutes. Your legs began to tremble and fists formed. Jonathan’s nose pressed against your clit as he viciously ate you out as if he hadden eating all day. 
He pulled his mouth away, but quickly replaced your tender cunt with the touch of his digits. Two fingers easily slipped inside of you. Muffled cries snuck out. But the deeper his fingers went inside of you, the harder it was to hide your moans. 
“You’re so close to coming already. Making me feel a bit pompous honestly” he chuckled.
You couldn’t help yourself when his fingers reached your g-spot. It felt magnificent, your warm walls squeezing around fingers. He slid in four digits, causing an awful cry of pleasure mixed with pain. You were climaxing in the worst way. Jonathan’s expression looked crazed, like he was a wild animal teasing his prey. It was a surprise that he hadn’t creamed in his pants already. You rode out your very first orgasm on his filthy fingers. Your hips naturally rocked on his fingers back and forward as you became undone. 
You felt like you were going to pass out. Nostrils flared as your body fell back into the bed, it was so fucking hard to breathe. It went unpassed as he untied all of your restraints. Your eyes squeezed shut from exhaustion and embarrassment. You rejected the thoughts of you enjoying the assault, enjoying Jonathan’s touch. 
Your bloodshot eyes opened again when you felt Jonathan climb on top of you. His covered erection poked your thigh as he watched your manner. But his eyes locked onto your gagged mouth. He gently pulled the cloth out of your mouth. You gasped for air, chest raised. 
“Hm, I’ve kissed your pussy before your mouth” he grinned. It was a foul joke. It made you physically gag which he didn’t like at all. He ordered you to kiss him. 
You whimpered at the pain of your sore jaw. But he was gentle with you, his tongue slipped in and lower lip massaged yours. It felt nice, relaxing to feel his touch in this manner. He caressed your breasts as his lips nipped your neck. You let out a soft moan and pressed your body against his, arms wrapped around his upper back. It felt like bliss, the comforting touch to your sensitive body. Your bodies molded together, his breathing was by your ear as you felt your soul leave your body. It felt too good to be true. That’s when you realized it was. You were being physically and emotionally vulnerable with your assaulter. Your body tensed and he noticed immediately. 
“What is it?” he questioned, sounding concerned to the slightest. He stared into your teary eyes, the back of his hand softly stroked your cheek. His free hand lowered to your stomach in an attempt to comfort you.
You regretted it immediately. The action went without a thought. You just saw an opportunity and didn’t think of what the consequences would be. The slap echoed throughout the room and it was followed by complete silence. It was a surprise that you even had the strength to land the hit. You laid frozen as his head remained in the position your hand forced it to. If anything, it was your opportunity to escape. But that slap had used all of your strength. Slowly his dark eyes turned to you, his thighs keeping you trapped underneath him. You stared back at him in fear, waiting for his fury. He backhanded you, again and again. A last gasp for breath left your lips as his hands wrapped around your throat. You struggled underneath him, your face quickly turning red in the process. His expression was emotionless as your fingers dug into his hands, forearms, anything to break the grip. 
“Fucking ungrateful bitch” he growled. “You know, I was going to be nice and wait to fuck you until tomorrow. I thought it would have been a kind gesture to give you some recovery time since, being a pure virgin and all. But you’re just a bit of a fucking brat now aren’t you? Unfortunately I’ll just have to show you my rough side as well” he snarled to you. 
It was a lie, he was going to fuck you today regardless. It was just amusing to fuck with your mind. Your vision became blurred and your hands fell to your sides. He let go of his grip and you gasped for air. His hands quickly gripped onto the sides of your head, his fingers tugged roughly at the roots of your hair. 
“Apologize to me” he spat his demand.
“I’m sorry!” you cried. “I didn’t mean to hit you. I wasn’t thinking straight” you cried your explanation. The apology was genuine but that didn’t satisfy him. 
“Show me you’re sorry” he ordered. You blinked as you processed his words. You tried to move your head closer to his but his fingers pulled your hair back. You winced as you figured you had to work harder to kiss him. Jonathan watched your frustrated and distressed look as you tried to press your lips against his.
“Please let me kiss you” you begged. He chuckled, and let go of your hair. You kissed him desperately, your tongue slid into his mouth. He didn’t like it at all. It felt way too forced by you. Jonathan pulled away and slapped you. 
“You’re trying too hard baby. It’s rather embarrassing” he laughed. “Now, don’t make any rash decisions as I fuck you. Despite my pleasure, I think you’d prefer not to be drugged into a state of  paralysis”. 
Jonathan stood up on his knees, you being trapped underneath him. He towered over you as he began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes did not drift away from yours as he dropped the shirt to the ground. Skin as pale as ghost and had little body fat and muscle definition. It was confusing how easily he could overpower you, drugs you’d guess. “Is there any fantasies on how you want to be fucked little one?” Jonathan teased. 
“No” you spat. 
Jonathan hummed as he slid off the bed. Your lower region was still raw from your orgasm. He unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. He pushed down the clothing enough for him to pull his cock out. A cry left your sore lips. His size was much bigger than you’d imagined. Maybe it was just an illusion, his cock just looked bigger because of his small size. Stroking his cock Jonathan ordered you to turn to your side. You buried your head into the bed as you turned your body away from him. 
He pulled your hips towards him, his cock rested by your entrance. You whimpered at the feeling of him against you. He caressed your ass a little bit as he lined his cock up. “This is going to hurt, a lot” he warned you with zero care. With one forceful thrust, he was completely inside of you. It wasn’t an illusion, he was as big as you thought. The inside walls of you cunt ached as it stretched around him. It was instinct for you to scream and it was diabolical for Jonathan to enjoy your sounds of agony. 
You wanted to thrash out, attack him. But you knew the consequences, how easily he would be able to restrain you. And you didn’t wish to know what torture he would bring upon you. So instead you just laid there crying with him watching you, your fingers curled into the fabric. Jonathan’s grip on your hip tightened as he began to thrust viciously. He popped your cherry quickly, your blood coated his cock and he thought that it was a heavenly sight. He stared at the back of your head as his balls smacked against your core. 
“I want you to look at me while I fuck you” he ordered, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. You did as he said and turned your head back. His mouth fell open as you two stared at one another. “How does it feel? Losing your virginity in this state? I bet you feel like a dirty little whore. Good, because you like this, I can feel your cunt clench around me. You’re dripping darling” he pointed out, you were. The thrusts became easier because of how wet you were from this. 
His finger drew blood for your hip as his thrusts continued at the same quick, rough pace. He analyzed your expression, noticing your eyes trying not to roll back and jaw lowering open. “Are you about to climax again darling?” he asked with a grin, he could feel it. You shook your head, not wanting to believe it yourself. A harsh smack landed on your bruised hip causing you to yelp. “Don’t lie baby” he warned in a low voice. 
“Yes!” You cried out. Jonathan laughed at how easy it was to unfold you.  
“Don’t let me hold you back. By all means, come!” he commanded, slapping your ass in the process. 
Quickly after that, you followed through with his command. You cried out, eyes completely rolled back, mouth panting for air, chest tightened and body falling numb. Your head fell back as you rode out your orgasm on Jonathan’s cock, hips rocking in rhythm. 
“The little virgin really must love my cock” he noted. 
“Please- stop. I-” you were lost for words. Could he blame you? Two orgasms in a row when you’ve never even attempted it before? Jonathan chuckled darkly at your request. 
“Darling, I’m not even close to finishing. You’re just going to have to hold it out. Maybe we should see if I can get a few more in?” He smirked and you shook your head. 
You couldn’t do this, you’ve had enough. You twisted your body back in an attempt to push him out of you. He reacted quickly and climbed on top of you. His cock slipped out as he grabbed onto your chin. His eyes gave you a warning not to disobey him as he realigned his member. With an easy push, he was back inside of your sweet canal. He bit your neck roughly as he found the right angle to fuck you. You moaned, he felt so fucking good and you hated it. 
Jonathan stared at your expression. Fear mixed with pleasure. It was the ultimate combination. He kissed you passionately, his tongue sliding down to your throat. You tried to fight him off with your own tongue but it was no use. You didn’t notice your arms snaking around his back to hold him close to you, as if he’d leave at any moment. 
“You like this” he taunted. You ignored his words and just focused on him fucking you, feeling yet another orgasm building up inside of you. But then he stopped fucking you all together. His cock slipped out of you and you frowned at him. You almost asked as to why he had stopped. Has he finished? “If you want me to continue fucking you, you’ll ask me nicely” he explained, a sly look on his face. 
You laughed weakly, he wasn’t serious? Why would you want him to continue? But then he rubbed your clit and you knew why you wanted him to continue. Humiliation was such a turn on. You cried, your chaotic thoughts were too much to unpack. Why would you even dare to ask him to continue? But you were already so close again and the discomfort in your core was becoming unbearable as he rubbed you just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to push you over. 
“Don’t feel guilty about your pleasures Y/N. Your body betrays your mind, it’s so fascinating isn’t it? The relationship between the mind and body. There’s no point in fighting it. Just embrace it, embrace my touch” 
His words felt like bliss. He was so smooth tongued. It was true, you did enjoy this, well your body did at least. What was the point in fighting? You had already lost to him. 
“Please” you whimpered, keeping your head low.
“No” his reply was blank.
“Please!” you sobbed, head shooting up to look at him. Your eyes screamed desperation and irritation.
“Please what? Please Doctor Crane fuck me? I’m such a pathetic greedy little slut that wants to come again?” His words were a slap to the face. It was as mortifying as you thought. 
“Yes that yes!” your response was quick. “Please- I want, I want your cock inside of me. I want to feel you inside of me” you said overwhelmed. You were whimpering a lot, your hips rocking on his thumb.  
Jonathan watched you rub yourself on him and bit his lip. “Oh, you really are a fucking slut. But you’re my slut. You’re mine. But I think you know that already. You’ve always known. Don’t you?” He grinned. You hummed and nodded your head. You shrieked when he pinched your clit. “Use your words girl!” he growled. 
“Yes! I-I’m yours!” you answered. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your mouth trembled.
“Oh you make me want to come so hard. I want you to hold it out. Can you do that for me baby? Wait for me so we can come together” he grinned as he lined his cock at your entrances, brushing against your wet folds. You nodded your head in agreement. Whatever, whatever he wanted. 
The force of his thrusts was like a jackhammer. For a man his size, he sure had stamina. Your foreheads pressed together, fingers interlocked and your legs weakly wrapped around his waist. It terrified you because you came before him. You just couldn’t help yourself. But he didn’t stop so you rode out your high as best as you could. You knew he was about to come undone. Both of your hips locked forward at the same time. Jonathan groaned loudly as you clenched against his shooting cock. His eyes squeezed shut as he held you tight and head flung back. His thrusts came to a sudden stop, his cock completely inside of you, his load spurting deep inside of you. With a few more softer thrusts, Jonathan pulled his soaked cock out of you. 
He let out a satisfied sigh. “I told you it wouldn’t be considered rape” he reminded you expressionless, not even breathless unlike yourself. 
You broke down, unable to control your emotions. You were a sobbing mess. Surely he’s drugged you with something else, right? But the gut feeling inside of you told you otherwise. Too many conflicting thoughts were fighting with each other. After watching you for a quick moment, he got off of you and fixed himself up, redressing himself and combing back his damp hair from all of the sweat as you laid there helpless. There was the opportunity that you tried to make a run for it, but the success rate was at minimum at this point. 
The Doctor went over the sink and ran a cloth under warm water. Ringing out the water, he walked back over to you and began to clean you up, completely ignoring your state of distress. Aftercare was the least of your expectations. He left your cunt till last. His fingers pressed up against the folds of your entrance. A mixture of your fluids oozed out.
“What a sight” he murmured to himself. 
You whined and hissed as he cleaned your raw, swollen, abused cunt. When he was done, he chucked the cloth into the sink and climbed back onto the bed next to you. You silenced yourself, expecting him to make another attack on you. He watched over you quietly and you weren’t sure what to do. It was like he was a crazed monkey waiting to snap.
“You’re still such a good girl for me” he cooed as he planted soft kisses all over your heated skin. The memories of your history filled his mind. There was a passionate kiss shared between you two, the type that doesn’t show desire but shows romantic intimacy. You kissed him back gently, it felt nice and you hated it. Jonathan pulled away and wiped your tears. “You still know your place. Mhm, you took my cock so well baby. I’m so proud of you little one” he praised as he groped your tits. “God, who knows, I might just fall in love with you” he laughed softly, kissing you once more.
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weirdworldofwinnie · 6 months
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Happy Halloween!🎃Here's a treat for all you Jonathan Crane lovers out there:
Face Me...
Dr. Jonathan Crane aka Scarecrow x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only smut)
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Summary: You work at Arkham Asylum in Gotham and Dr. Crane has been stalking you for a while, but you are leery of him and have been avoiding him outside of professionalism at all costs. One night though as you are leaving work, he tracks you down at your car to see just what you're so afraid of.
Word Count: ~4,426
Warnings: Semi-rough car sex, non-con elements, forced oral (male receiving), dirty talk/language, slight degradation, hair pulling, slapping, stalker behavior, talk of virginity loss, birth control, Dr. Crane being kind of a creep in general
Note: Reader does not know he is actually Scarecrow! And images above are sourced from Pinterest. This story is based only on Cillian Murphy's version in the Batman films and is my interpretation of the character; I don't own him or any part of the franchise, this is just for fun.
Tonight was swathed in misty sheets of rain in the gritty darkness lightly tainted by the glow of streetlights as your car, parked a few blocks from Arkham Asylum, beeped to unlock and you slung your purse over your shoulder, sighing after a long day and wanting to get home to a hot bath and a drink or two. But a strange feeling in the pit of your stomach at a shadow from your peripheral vision made you hesitate and you squinted through the hazy shower that was tapering off to a light drizzle, dampening your hair.
A suited man, height on the shorter side, was stopped no more than twenty feet away and a jarring jolt rushed to your bones when you saw the street light glint off his narrow framed glasses and you paused, hand on the car door. He was utterly silent and you were unnerved by his stiff posture and oddly clenched fists, half thinking to jump in your four-door-sedan and peel out of his presence, but he then walked forward causally, those hands relaxing and slipping into the pockets of his black slacks.
"Good evening," he called out, stepping into view under a streetlight with a smirk and you clenched your jaw, crossing your arms defensively as he slowly approached, that sick smile never sliding off his features that were - you'd have to admit - frankly handsome... No, beautiful was a better term.
"Why are you stalking me, Dr. Crane?" you asked with edginess to your tired voice. It was late and you didn't even live in Gotham City, you just commuted here for work.
"Stalking? Oh no, I am simply observing," he replied smoothy, but it came off as more snappy and insincere.
"Right... Don't you have somewhere to go?"
"Do you?"
"Yeah, home to my apartment miles away. It's been an exhausting day and too late to be out on the town, so if you're proposing anything, I can't take it tonight."
"It's always a long, late night in Gotham."
He moved within a few feet of you and you swallowed nervously, but remembered a man like him could smell fear, so you put up a brave front.
"So when do you finally fuck off and leave me alone? It's unprofessional to follow someone without their permission, you know. Keep this up and I'll need a restraining order."
"But you always avoid me during work and now you reject my offer for simple company?"
"Company late at night at my car in the rain? And aren't you technically my boss? We aren't friends and I don't know why you're so interested in me, but I don't think you should be. I'm not looking for a man like you. Right now I'm just looking for a nice glass of red wine honestly."
"Really...?" he drew the word out to almost a parodying tone and you pursed your lips.
"Yes, really. Now I bid you goodnight, Dr. Crane." You opened the car door fully, ducking and stepping a foot in when the door caught and you looked up to see him holding it in a firm grip. He was stronger than you expected.
"Stop denying it, I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Stop hiding and face me once and for all," he insisted darkly.
You took a breath, desperately trying to calm your beating heart and yet the horrible feeling that this evening wasn't going to end on a dull note persisted.
"Don't hurt me, I'll-" you started to warn and his eyebrows shot up with a shake of his head.
"Call the police?" It sounded like mockery from his mouth and you scowled as he continued, his pale hand sprinkled with rainwater sliding up and down the car door frame.
"Hurt you, hm? Well, only if you want me to." He chuckled and you stared at his slightly floppy dewey dark hair and raised eyebrows.
"Why the hell would I want you to hurt me?"
"You tell me. I do know you secretly want something else, don't you? Something more... erotic?"
You scoffed angrily, hating how he was worming his way past your exterior and into attraction, but you couldn't let it happen.
"Take a raincheck. I'm going home." You tried to shut the door but he was still holding it in a death grip, knuckles white and veins bursting out the back of his hand.
"Stop fucking around, I don't have time for this sh-" you cut off your sentence with a yelp as Dr. Crane shoved you inside the backseat of your own car and you landed flat on your back as he came inside to hover over your vulnerable body, wetting his pink lips.
"Please! Don't do this!" you cried out of panic and he leaned back, breathing heavily.
"Don't go anywhere," he warned and you struggled to sit up, throwing your purse up front and he slammed the side door shut, getting more comfortable in the backseat, which you were not pleased about.
"This is MY car, get out," you commanded, but he was as cool as a cucumber as he cleaned his glasses with a cloth from his suit jacket.
"I just want to talk one on one, which we never do outside of the usual board meetings and it can be so boring, always about psychiatry and stats and police reports and this patient and these crazies and-"
"Oh sure you just want to talk. I'm not some kind of naive idiot to the desires of the opposite sex," you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, settling back on the seat with a cross of his legs and looking up to the car ceiling.
"It's so cold and wet tonight, shame we aren't someplace more cozy," he muttered and you awkwardly crawled into the driver's seat with your keys and fumbled to insert them in, starting the ignition.
"What are you doing there?" he asked mildly and even that sounded passive aggressive. God, he sure was insufferable.
"Turning the heat on because you're whining about it. I just wish you'd get out of here, completely violating my privacy."
"This is a public street you're parked on, isn't it? And is this how you treat all passengers?"
"I never have any passengers," you remarked bitterly and Crane leaned forward, putting his hands on the back of the seat and peering around to you as you glanced at him in the rearview mirror.
"Indeed. I know you're mostly a loner with almost no friends and orphaned from family or maybe you've lied and they aren't dead and are only estranged... Either way, no one cares and no one understands how you spend office hours in a facility full of the most criminally insane but you do it for the money and to quench your curiosity because deep down, you know - you know you're a freak too who sees no normal in what you have deemed a, oh say... corrupt kind of world."
You swallowed at his assertions and unfortunately fairly accurate reading.
"I don't need sympathy from you of all people," you snapped, putting the heat to full blast. It was freezing tonight and the defrost was battling the condensation filling up the windshield.
"I'm only trying to understand you myself, it's my job to psychoanalyze."
"I'm not one of your patients or experiments," you told him in disgust.
"Every human being is an experiment in the eyes of their creator, which is me for you because I happen to be the one who hired you in the first place. Without me, you would not have a job and therefore I created you in that respect," he replied in absurd smugness.
"Then what am I? Frankenstein's monster?"
His eyes flashed and he adjusted his glasses reflexively.
"I wish. No, you're my first prototype I have yet to diagnose."
You shut the heat off once the internal temperature was fairly toasty and cracked a window down a fraction for circulation. A beat of silence befell until he suddenly climbed into the front, dropping into the passenger seat confidently, and you realized how lithe he was, how easily he fit into spaces not designed for someone with such an overshadowing, all-encompassing ego.
"Now what are you doing?" you asked exasperatedly. He didn't answer and you hated the way looking at him was making your heart flutter despite your anger and the alarm bells ringing in your brain. Something about him was always... very off and you never could quite place your finger on it, he was a blind spot, but it was undeniable. Which was telling considering the people you were exposed to every day.
Crane reached up and removed his glasses entirely with a swipe to set them on the dash and your breath caught with that simple action. You admitted how he was very visually pleasing without those lens obstructing his intense blue colored orbs were. You glanced down and fiddled with the keys when he suddenly snatched them up out of your lap and pocketed them into his own pants with a manic expression.
"Hey, give those back!" you yelled and began to wrestle with him, arms flailing as he held his own above his head, palms up and empty.
"You want those? You have to do something for me first."
"I-Okay, what is it?" You dropped your arms and glared at him suspiciously. He smirked once, speaking with a tremor of excitement.
"If I was civilized, which I'm admittedly not, I'd ask you out on an old fashioned dinner date and then walk you to your door, give you a nice polite kiss and send flowers to your desk on Monday. But I can't wait anymore for that saccharine romantic scenario, so we'll get straight down to business. I want to fuck your brains out, right here in the car."
You blinked, rather stunned.
"I... I-I no, I can't, I mean that's-"
And here was where your confidence utterly failed as he suddenly lunged and grabbed you to pin you down inbetween the passenger and driver seats, head flung upside down almost to the backseat floor and legs helplessly kicking towards the windshield.
"Please, don't do this!" you yelped anxiously.
"Don't tell me you're a virgin who has never had a dick in you before," he whispered, misreading your fearful hesitant expression. Actually, you'd had sex once with a lame boyfriend back in college and since then, avoided the dating and hookup scene, content just to masturbate when you could.
"Oh, fuck, I should've guessed. What a shocking discovery," he wrongly concluded rather sarcastically and you cringed, twisting your head away from his warm breath and ridiculously good looks.
"This makes it all the more interesting, then," he murmured with a feathery caress to your cheek and you flinched, giving him a kick and successfully wriggling out of his grasp to curl up against the door in the backseat.
"I've been waiting a long time for our encounter," he mused, utterly unfazed at the negative reaction.
You immediately went to open the door, ready to run for your life if he became overly threatening, but he hit the button that locked all the doors. You manually unlocked your one door - thank God for that safety feature - but his deadly voice made you freeze.
"Are you quite sure you want to do that?"
"T-This is my ensured vehicle and y-you are violating every right of mine by t-taking over like this," you stated, but your voice was shaking like a leaf through the words.
"That's it, you are afraid of me..." he whispered slowly and the pure delight with pride in his voice was unmistakable. You turned to look at him directly, unable to hide and deny anything any longer.
"I think you are being very inappropriate right now," you admitted nervously.
Crane moved to join you in the backseat, but you felt stuck even though you could technically open the door and make an escape. There was no way he could really stop you, was there? He didn't have a weapon on him, did he?
"If you were really frightened, you would have bolted by now," he said as though reading your thoughts and you gulped, realizing he was right.
"Dr. Crane, I-" you were broken off by him abruptly grabbing your face and kissing you, his tongue sloppily forcing its way into your mouth and you naturally reciprocated while inhaling his sharp stinging scent of expensive cologne. He pulled back with a gasp and a mischievous spark in his eyes that made something awaken deep inside.
"You kissed me," you said in a stunned voice.
"That's precisely what I did, Y/N," he answered with another touch of smugness and you closed your eyes, knowing you were in too deep now. He was going to take this all the way and you felt helpless to stop it. Did you even want to stop him?
"I knew if I exposed myself enough to you, you'd finally stop being immune," Crane told you with a sort of self-righteousness as he ran his hands down your back and shrugged your coat off before moving to your front to remove your blouse carefully, button by button.
"I hate to see such pretty tits contained and so oppressed... Let's free them, shall we?"
He unclasped your bra and removed it, tossing it to the floor and you shivered, goosebumps peppering your bare arms and neck.
"Aww, is it too cold?" He made a pout and privately you wanted to smack those stupid lips right off his condescending face but it was if you were under a spell of a sudden, entranced by his actions and his hypnotic eyes. He trailed his fingers down from your throat to your nipples and you hardened at the stimulation, closing your eyes in regret. Dr. Crane was turning you on, dammit.
"Better than I could imagine..." he breathed, taking in your appearance for a minute while groping your breasts, squeezing, and you gritted your teeth as he teasingly tickled you under your arms, making your breath hitch and a stupid giggle slipped out.
"Sensitive, are we? I promise I won't hurt you."
You leaned back, casting a fretful look out the windows in case of onlookers, but the street was empty and the glass was streaky with rain, creating a thickly translucent rippled covering not unlike a shower curtain.
"No one knows," Crane stated flatly in response to your paranoia while untying his dress shoes and pushing them under the seats. You just nodded, taking off your own and then unzipping your pants the same time he undid his own. His tight dark grey briefs were bulging with his cock and you hesitated, absolutely unsure of what to do when he completely stripped and out popped out his erect glistening-at-the-tip penis in full view.
"Take it in your mouth," Crane ordered abruptly, pushing you down beneath him.
"Um, no I think that's disgus-" Your voice was cut off as you nearly choked; he roughly shoved his cock so fast into your parted mouth. The silky end of his tie tickled your nose as he inched closer, and clearly this was much more enjoyable for him than it was for you as he groaned in building ecstasy and you kept your mouth closed around it, afraid that if you moved, you'd gag or get hurt. He forced your head up a little and bobbed, but you could feel a dribble of precum seeping down your throat and now you reflexed, yanking yourself from him with a loud noise and banging the car door open to cough and spit violently out onto the pavement below.
"Get back in, do you want someone to see us?!" Crane hissed and you felt a sharp tug on your hair as he pulled you back. You shrieked and self defensively twisted to slap him straight in the face. He gasped from the unexpected blow, falling back and banging his head on the opposite window as you spat, wiping your lips of his mess.
"Can't take it like a common whore, can you? Feel like being a goddamn difficult bitch, don't you? Think you're better than me, do you?" he seethed, rubbing his cranium and you huffed.
"I thought you'd just put your dick in me, not that bullshit."
"It's called oral and many women in fact enjoy it."
"How do you know, you've done that before?"
He had a strange expression when he replied briskly.
"I've read up on the concept, you know."
"You've studied about women and sex. Amazing. Is that what you do on your lunch break or...?" you almost laughed, but the way he was staring at you wasn't in a joking manner. He had the look of an inmate one straw away from a full psychotic behavior break down. Basing from your training, you decided to distract his frustrating anger and talk nonchalantly to calm him down.
"Okay, I'm kidding around, I get it, and I don't mean to hate or spite you. Remember when I was initially employed at Arkham, fresh out of college, and I met you for the first time? I personally thought you were extremely cocky and looked waaay too young to be a top psychiatrist in such a grand high security institution. Now I can say with certainty that while you are, um, creative in your methods with the inmates and I do admit I find you very terribly attractive, I have to say Dr. Crane... I still think you're an arrogant son of a bitch."
"Call me Jonathan," he replied, unimpressed by the insult and wrestling off his tie.
"Well, Dr. Jonathan, you sure are a pretty piece of work," you replied with ample attitude and he was fed up, dumping his jacket and shirt from his body and twisting the tie in his fingers. He held it up and a muscle spasmed in face, jaw clenching and enunciating his cheekbones.
"You want me to choke you with this?"
"I'd really prefer you didn't and it would be very nice if you weren't such a dick forcing your sex on me," you answered matter-of-factly.
"Lie down or I'll fucking fire you from your position, understand?" he snapped loudly and was extremely serious as you glared, but then reluctantly laid back obediently on the seats just to avoid complications and he came down swiftly, carefully aligning to position his penis at your entrance. He cautiously touched the moist head to your vaginal lips when you held up a hand onto his chest, stopping him.
"Now hang on doctor, don't you want to warm up first?"
"I'm obviously already warmed up, Miss Y/LN."
"But I don't have lubricant on me, so you're going to have to get me naturally very wet for penetration because right now I'm dry as a bone," you warned for your own protection, but hardly expected him to listen.
"Don't tell me how to do it," he replied, snippy.
"I'm serious, you can't just stick it in there; it will be just as hard for you as it'll be for me and I don't want to end up seeing a gynecologist."
"So you aren't a virgin after all?"
"I had my hymen broken with a loser in the past," you told him and he raised one brown eyebrow, creasing his forehead with a few fine lines.
"Then how should I start, Miss doctor?"
You wordlessly took a hold of his index finger and guided it to your opening and he pressed lightly, feeling pooling liquid.
"You little liar, you're already discharging," he whispered disapprovingly and he massaged your clit in slow jerky rhythm. You nodded in approval, losing your control as he slipped a finger in and moved around enough to make you clench a bit, trapping his digit.
"How does that feel?" he asked almost clinically and you closed your eyes, urging him to put in another finger. He did and you almost orgasmed when he extracted much too soon, sighing.
"This isn't much fun for me," he whined and you made a face, shifting position to spread your legs wider, putting your arms up and accidentally smearing the fogged window with your fingertips. You looked utterly submissive, practically begging to be fucked, to get it over with (so you convinced yourself).
But for all his aggression to trap you in your own car for penetrative sex, Jonathan was now becoming oddly timid as he hesitantly closed the gap between you, realigning his bare body to yours.
"Wait, have you done this before?" you asked suspiciously and he was sheepish in answering.
"I told you, you are my first prototype."
"Shit, you're the virgin here?!" You laughed as though this made this experience any less stressful or partially contrived.
"Do you masturbate?" you then asked and he rolled his eyes.
"What kind of man of do you think I am?"
"Is that yes or no?"
"Doesn't matter, Y/N. Now, let me ask you a more important question: are you on birth control of any type?"
"I..." you hesitated to answer because if you told him 'no' would he go any further? You had pills at home as a precaution, but neglected to ever take them, assuming you'd be remaining single. But you had no intention of getting into a full relationship and certainly not being impregnated by this man.
"I left them at home," you finally answered truthfully.
"I have something for that then," he assured and you stared as he leaned back and rummaged in the pockets of his clothes on the floor. He produced a tiny pill container and dropped a pill into your open palm. You didn't ask why he was carrying around birth control pills, but assumed he had indeed been planning this for a while.
"Don't want any unnecessary side effects of something that I'll have to end up terminating anyway," he muttered bitterly as you popped it in and climbed into the driver's seat to swig some water from your plastic bottle in the cupholder, feeling grateful that at least he didn't administer that Fear Toxin he was always messing around with in the asylum.
"Now can we get started?" Jonathan asked impatiently and you took a breath, easing the front seat down so you were lying parallel to him. Jonathan clamored on top of your naked flesh and straddled you, his cock rubbing up against your thighs, then vaginal area and you squirmed, clutching onto his back. He pushed in gradually, but densely, and you whimpered at the stinging pain and then the growing pleasure bubbling around his cock within your walls and you clenched hard, much harder than you had with his fingers.
"Oh... Fuck, Jonathan..." you groaned and he bounced up and down lightly, thrusting with slaps of skin and you felt your bottom sticking with sweat to the leather seat as he kept at it for several minutes, gripping your hips and nearly plowing you apart. It hurt, no getting around it, and he wasn't privy to what you were feeling as he seemed entirely in his own zone, racing for his pleasure until you moaned loud enough to cause him glance down, realizing you were getting close to free falling off the edge.
"C'mon, you're so close with that pretty little pussy of yours, almost..." Jonathan breathed in your ear and as he hit the spot, finally the climaxing orgasm came with a bang and it was so intense, probably fueled by adrenaline and stress more than actual love, that you emitted a high pitched shrieking whine which trailed into a low moan of relief while it tapered off and he grunted, somehow thrusting even further. Yes, you had minimal experience, but had never ever been penetrated this far before and you dreaded how much longer he could rail you, but thankfully his own orgasm came with a grunting groan as he spilled into you and you held on, digging nails into his shoulder blades and nearly biting his neck. He panted heavily in your ear and his tickle of breath made your stomach flip.
He laid still on top of you for awhile, cock twitching and warming your insides. The windows were fogged up completely and the cold was now non-existent with the heat you and him were creating out of friction alone.
"You enjoy yourself?" you whispered hoarsely to Jonathan as his breathing slowed sluggishly and he looked like he was falling asleep, so you shoved him off your aching body and he blinked, rubbing his forehead.
"Yeah, that was satisfactory. Maybe I should bump up your paycheck."
"I'm not a prostitute, but thank you."
He smiled lazily, eyes rather unfocused, and you pulled your seat up with the lever, reaching for his glasses on the dash and handing them back to him. He, in turn, retrieved the car keys from his pants and tossed them back to you with a clanging jingle.
Casting a look around your car, there were streaky handprints on the fogged glass, thin swipes of fingers and imprinted palms decorating the back windows and you reached over to one and drew a heart outline in a patch of blank space. Jonathan's own finger speared through it, making a arrow.
"Very romantic," you commented sarcastically and moved to join him in the backseat as he started to draw a creepy face reminiscent of a familiar spooky icon (a clown? Maybe a scarecrow?) when he stopped and checked his watch.
"I need to go," Jonathan coldly stated out of the blue and began to hastily gather up his clothing, awkwardly dressing before he stepped outside and zipped up his pants, and inhaled the late October city air, somewhat out of breath. The rain had stopped and the skies were clearing, the full pearly white moon slicing through the curtain of storm clouds, and you drew your blouse around yourself with a shiver before sliding into underwear, realizing you'd never look at Dr. Crane the same since this intimately raw experience.
"So I'll be seeing you around tomorrow...?" you wondered aloud and although you meant for that to be purely work related, he clearly took it the other direction.
"Oh, I'll be seeing you." He smirked knowingly and then slammed the car door closed in your face, leaving you sore and to reel from whatever the hell this twisted specimen of a man just put you through. Did you like it?
Maybe.
Thanks for reading 🖤 First time writing for Jonathan Crane, so I hope this was halfway decent!
993 notes · View notes
redflagshipwriter · 3 months
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Hot Ghouls in Your Area
Chapter 1
“A cult?” Jason blew out a bubble and enjoyed the disgusted face that Bruce made.
“Yes.” His voice was tight. Jason could tell that he wanted to turn back to the Batcomputer. “They’re operating in Park Row-”
“Crime Alley.”
Batman sighed and accepted the correction. “I would like to propose a joint operation.” He sounded so tired and not very optimistic.
Jason eyed up his on-again-off-again Father figure and popped his gum, thinking it over. Bruce clearly expected him to say no, fuck off, and take the information himself.
He could. There was nothing wrong with that.
“Sure, old man.” He clapped Bruce on the shoulder and finished screwing together the tool he’d brought in for maintenance. He’d had to fabricate a new part and the Red Hood didn’t exactly have the equipment for that in his two room apartment. “Thursday night alright?”
“They’ve a planned meeting on Wednesday, actually,” Bruce said, frowning slightly at him but looking soft around the eyes with confused hope. “Would that be possible? They seem to gather mid-week.”
Jason let out a sigh. “I can make it work. Ta, old man.” He made sure to toss off an especially insouciant salute as he sauntered away. Sure, he was willing to put a little effort into maintaining their relationship, but he couldn’t be too compliant. If you gave Bruce an hour of your time, he wrote you down on the schedule for an hour every day until one of you fuckin’ died in a warehouse explosion. Something like that.
He wasn’t that trusting, though. Jason took the information that Bruce emailed him and did his own legwork. He wasn’t stubborn enough to bother redoing digital work that Bruce had done or gotten from Babs. That would be a waste of his time, and he valued his time. But he scoped out the cult’s meeting place.
Of all the undignified things, it was a rented room in the community center. Jason found himself sheepishly breaking into the office to check on the reservation and poking around the room itself.
There was nothing special about it. It was a shitty room with shitty paneled walls and cheap, well-trodden grey carpet. It boasted a few too many tables, arranged in a U shape, and a whiteboard pushed up against the wall that hadn’t been cleaned off well enough to erase what he was pretty sure was a reference to their lord and savior, destroyed of worlds.
So. That was a point for Bruce’s cult thing.
He hadn’t really doubted it, if he was honest, given that this had originated in a tip from Zatanna. She had told him as a courtesy that some creep had moved their base of recruiting and operations into Gotham.
Apparently, recruitment was going pretty well. The room could seat like, twenty? Jason counted chairs and left.
He came back on Wednesday at 8pm with the Batman and an attempt at a good attitude. He probably wasn’t going to need any of the weapons on his person. They were going to check in so that this guy knew they had an eye on him and that he would be suspect number one if there was any hint of people or cats being sacrificed.
Bruce fucked off to peer in the windows, like the giant caped creep he was. Jason took the front door, nodded congenially at the old man in the office, and knocked at the room the cultists had reserved.
He could hear Bruce internally curse through the comm. It was silent, of course, but the quality of the silence changed. “Knock knock,” he called, since a literal knock hadn’t done it. He opened the door without waiting. “Just checking in, heard you’re new to town and that you tried to feed Zatanna’s shitty little cousin to the god of Death?”
The room stared at him. A whiteboard marker squeaked to a stop. He idly followed the sound to the board. A …. Huh. that looked like some kind of mystical bullshit.
“You’ve been touched by death,” said the fraud himself, a man in his fifties with a wildly pretentious robe that was wrinkled from the paper bag he’d clearly used to carry it in. He outstretched the hand that didn’t have a blue whiteboard marker in it. “You would be a perfect sacrifice to our Lord.”
“So will it be,” said about half the people there, at the same time a young woman said, “No shit?” in an impressed tone.
Jason rolled his eyes through the helmet, unintimidated by the room of weirdos standing up. The kind of people who gathered at a community center on a Wednesday night were not going to summon the God of Death. Light glinted off the window where Batman was clearly weighing the possibility of breaking glass and swinging in. Jason silently waved him off with a headshake. They weren’t to the point of property damage yet. He took a couple of steps into the room with deliberate swagger. “What a lucky guess,” he drawled. “The Red Hood has had brushes with death? No one but a legitimate prophet could possibly make such a statement.”
“I’m not a prophet,” said the man, and turned back to his white board. “I’m a devote.” He rubbed out a line with the meat of his hand and then hurriedly wrote in ‘The Red Hood’ in a tilted cursive. “The sacrifice!” he shouted, throwing his arms wide and accidentally making a big blue line through his evil little sigil or whatever it was. The elderly lady to Jason’s right opened up her bag, thrust her hand in, and came up with a fistful of -
“Salt?” Jason asked, confused and unimpressed as the silly twit threw her handful of salt at him. “Thanks, I’m better seasoned now,” he snarked. He pulled out a gun easily. “Alright, let’s get serious. I-”
The whiteboard was glowing. The blue letters were glowing green.
“What the fuck?” Jason said. The windows exploded with broken glass as Batman decided now was the time to make his entrance. He barely got to see it before something hooked unpleasantly on his body and soul and twisted it sideways.
The world was green now. Holy shit. Jason spun a circle on uneven ground and gaped. “...Egg on my face,” he said. “I’ve been sacrificed. Consider me embarrassed.” A quick check showed that his comm was useless. It was giving off a steady little eeee of static that kinda sounded like screams. Whimsical. Jason turned it off.
He wasn’t panicking yet. The void wasn’t that freaky. It was weird, sure, but there weren’t any demons or enemies. He flicked the safety off his favorite gun just in case and frowned into the darkness.
It was like he was standing under a spotlight with no light source. There was ambient lighting in all directions, but the world faded into darkness only a few dozen feet away. He took some experimental steps to determine that, yeah, the field of visibility traveled with him.
Well. Time to get moving. Jason walked. There was nothing for the first - hour, he was gonna call it an hour. He got antsy and started jogging. The green stretched on, placid and infinite in a way that was really starting to piss him off. “Hey!” Jason barked into the void. “Anyone there?”
There was an answering electronic whirr. He stopped in his tracks. Jason looked in every direction, including up, and only saw the fucking thing when it was basically on top of him.
The vehicle was probably most equivalent to a spaceship, he decided, as what was probably a 3-man craft at most parked. The top clicked. It opened from the top and someone bounded out. “Hey!” came an annoyed male voice. “What’s the deal, bud?” The stranger landed in front of Jason with crossed arms and a pissy expression. His white hair floated above his head as if he was the little fucking mermaid in the ocean.
Jason scowled, the back of his mind cataloging the other guy’s outfit as pristine and undamaged and his musculature as athletic. “What’s it to you?” he asked, defensive. He didn’t know if it was safe to give information to this guy. “I might be a little lost,” Jason conceded.
“A little lost,” the guy repeated, and then- okay, he flew in a weird little flippy circle, scowling all the while as Jason gaped. “A little lost.” He scoffed. Then he let out a sigh that made his whole body look smaller. He uncrossed his arms and ran a hand through his hair. “This is a weird question,” he said, making it sound more defensive than apologetic. “Did you uh.” He scowled, like the words were distasteful. “Look,” he tried again. “Are you delulu, or did you get caught up as the sacrificial bride? I told Frank to knock that shit off.”
Sacrificial bride. Jason felt his brain go offline for a moment. Say what now.
“Helloooo,” the… was this rando a god of death? He was impatient. He flew way up into Jason’s personal space and snapped his fingers. “Someone just smashed metal trash bins together at my grave to get my attention, basically. No, it’s more like one of those spam pop ups that says there’s hot girls in your area?” He made a gesture at Jason. “Only it’s loud. It’s ringing in my ears, and I had to come track you down. Do you think this is funny?”
“...Sacrificial bride?” Jason finally managed to croak out.
Weirdly, this made the other guy relax immediately. “Just found out, huh,” he said, sounding much more sympathetic. “Yeah, okay, we need to sort out a spiritual divorce immediately. And then you can go home and there will be no more hot girls in my area and I can get back to my ess- my work.”
Jason took a few moments of grief and confusion to accept his apparent status. “We’re married?” he said weakly.
The white haired man looked a little sheepish. “Marriage is probably not quite accurate,” he said, and Jason felt a little bit of relief before the guy continued, “It’s more like you’re my concubine?” He sounded mortified by this. “I didn’t want this!”
“No, no,” Jason said, meaning both that he believed it and that he needed this conversation to change directions immediately. “I- who are you?” He gestured at his– what the fuck was the other side of a concubine relationship? King was the associated word that came up, but that…
“I’m nobody, really,” said the white haired man weakly. “But I may technically be King of ghosts or whatever. The Infinite Realms.” He scratched at his face. “So… yeah.”
They stood in utterly mortified silence for a long moment before he seemed to remember something. “You can call me Danny,” he offered.
“...Call me Jason,” he said.
“Thanks, Jason,” Danny said genially. “So, uh, this is a mess, right?” He started floating away backwards. “I’m going to hunt down my mentor and advisor and get some uh- advice, I guess. Do you wanna come with? Or should I come back and check in once I’ve heard from him?”
Jason weighed up his situation, the conventional wisdom about getting in vehicles with strange men, and wondered how useless his gun was going to be in this situation. Danny had never reacted to it being pointed at him, so his guess was ‘utterly unhelpful’. He put it away. “I’d like a ride, thanks,” he said dryly.
They made some stilted conversation on the ride. Danny was clearly trying to hold back and give him no identifying information. That was fascinating, because it implied that there was something Jason could do from the human world to track Danny down. It was also reassuring because there was no reason to withhold information if he’d planned to keep Jason prisoner, so, ya know, that was a good sign.
Anyway, Jason got a lot of information from Danny.
Danny was a terrible liar and he misspoke like, all the time. Jason was pretty sure he was in the ghost equivalent of school, like college or something. He talked like someone in Jason’s age group would, so he’d probably died very recently. Maybe he had been a college student when he’d died and he just hadn’t given up on that degree yet, honestly. Jason managed to drag the conversation around to education. He got nowhere with asking about literature but he hit the jackpot with science. Danny was still babbling about a telescope when he landed the …ship outside of a wonky clocktower.
Jason took off his safety belt and froze in his tracks when Danny absently stopped him with a cool hand. Jason looked down at that hand.
“You had better stay here,” Danny said. He shook his head slightly. “Clocky doesn’t like everyone.”
He melted into the chair as if he had never wanted to get up. “Alright,” Jason said.
Danny was out of the spaceship by the time that Jason realized something was very wrong with that interaction.
He hadn’t decided to sit down. He hadn’t wanted to sit back down. Did- did he actually think it was reasonable to stay behind, or would he have argued and gone in normally?
‘...I think Danny did something.’ Suspicion swirled in his gut. Jason tried to take the safety belt off and stand up. He couldn’t. It was like his muscles wouldn’t respond to it.
Well, that was pretty fuckin’ evil. His pulse picked up in his throat. It… It was some kind of compulsion? He had to do what Danny told him to do? That was really fucked up. He was starting to feel really unsafe now. He wished he’d hung back with Bruce. He wanted someone to bring him home. And weirdly, he felt betrayed. He hardly trusted Danny, didn’t know the fucker well enough to, but he hadn’t gotten that impression off the guy–
‘It wasn’t him,’ Jason realized. ‘It was the binding ritual. Danny said it wasn’t like a marriage, it’s not equal. That’s why I did what Danny wanted me to do.’
Well. Well then. If Danny didn’t know that Jason had to follow his orders, Jason was most fucking certainly not going to spell it out for him. It was a grim calculation to make, but it seemed the safest. As it was, Danny seemed to want to get rid of him as fast as possible.
So that was it. He’d play along and get Danny to spit him back out into Gotham, a young hot divorcé free on the streets.
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