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makeyoumine69 · 2 months

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Memory Reboot

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

SUMMARY: You work at P&P, and one day you come into Bateman's office and witness his breakdown. Your attempts to comfort him only increase his obsession with you, and without realizing it, you push this man to his limits. The outburst that finds you both in a club called the Tunnel will change your lives forever and irrevocably.

CONTAINS: Smut, angst, obsessive behavior, desperate-touch-starved Patrick, masturbating, oral sex (reader receiving), aggressive foreplay, dirty talk, body worship, teasing, biting, drug usage, pet names.

WORDS: 3k

SONG REC: VØJ, Narvent - Memory Reboot

A/N: This is for my dear @iron-flavored-lipgloss! It was such a pleasure for me to write this for you! Enjoy!

LINKS: [MASTERLIST] 🪓 [EDIT]

gif by @tvandfilm

Patrick Bateman. What kind of a mess was this man? Chaotic, impulsive, pathetic? Or all of the above?

Smirking, you went to his office to deliver some documents you needed him to sign, but when you got there, you noticed that Jean — his lovely blonde assistant — was absent and the door to his office was suspiciously half open. It was strange, to say the least, but you just shrugged your shoulders and stood there for a while when you heard a loud thud coming through the door — the sound almost made you jump in surprise. 'What the hell?' You wondered as you approached the door, turning around to see if Jean was coming, but there was no sign of her. With measured steps you got closer to the hole in the open door and just peeked in out of curiosity, but the scene you saw was not what you expected — Bateman, all flushed and covered in sweat, was storming around his office, his hands desperately fumbling with his tie as if it was choking him.

Your reaction was quick, and you didn't even notice as you opened the door and stepped inside. "Bateman? Are you okay?"

The man stopped shaking the moment he heard your voice and leaned down on his desk. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I came to get your signature on some of my docs when I heard you crying,” you grinned, watching his face go pale. "What's wrong, Bateman? Did you miss your facial?" The way he balled his hands made you laugh. "But really, did something happen?"

"Yes," Patrick replied, looking at you and running his hand through his disheveled hair. "I mean...no...nothing happened…" You saw his lips tremble a little each time he spoke. "Gimme the docs."

Frowning in confusion, you pulled out a napkin and handed it to him instead, meeting his scornful gaze. "You're sweating…” You placed the white piece of cloth on his desk, only now noticing a small jar that you were sure was full of pills. "Maybe I should ask Jean to bring you some coffee? You look really sick..."

"No!" Bateman suddenly blurted out, pointing his finger at you. "I asked Jean to take the day off..."

"Hey, hey, relax," you raised your hands defensively. "Relax, I was just trying to help."

Slowly, you placed the folder of documents on his wooden desk, which he grabbed almost immediately, and your hands touched for a brief moment, and Bateman didn't flinch, and neither did you.

"Take a seat." Patrick muttered incoherently.

"What?"

"Sit," he repeated irritably. "And wait."

His tumultuous behavior actually frightened you, but you did as he said and sat down in the chair opposite him. ‘My God, he really is mental, Tim was right.’

"What are these pills? Some vitamins?" You tried to keep the conversation alive, not even knowing why, as you watched his long, thin fingers floating across the pages.

Your question made him stop and look up at you. "That's none of your business, (y/n). I asked you to sit and wait, not ask me stupid questions."

‘Why does he look so cute when he's so angry?’ The thought brought a smile to your face, but then you zipped up your mouth theatrically and Bateman's office went silent for a while. And you used it to admire his perfect jawline, even though his brown hair was messy now, it looked so inviting to touch anyway.

"Is that all?" Bateman asked suddenly, arching his eyebrows and interrupting your train of thought.

"Uh, what?"

A prominent line appeared on Patrick's forehead — a testament to his annoyance. "Are you deaf or something?"

"Lemme see them," you pointed at the documents. "I want to make sure you put your cute sign on every page." Your playful tone made the line between Patrick's eyebrows even more noticeable. "I don't want to come back here."

Bateman didn't even try to jab back, his face still pale and sweaty, his eyes nothing but dark voids — oh, how fucking empty they were. Sighing heavily, Patrick raised his gaze when he heard the chair creak as you got up and walked around his desk. The sudden cut in the distance between the two of you was something Patrick didn't seem to be ready for, as his hands nervously gripped the armrests, but you pretended not to notice.

"We all feel down sometimes," you murmured over his ear, literally sensing the tension radiating from his body. "And that's okay." Placing your hand on his broad shoulder, you leaned down to look at the documents, surreptitiously inhaling the scent of his perfume mixed with his sweat. ‘Fuck, what am I doing?’

"I didn't know you had a part-time job as a therapist," he grumbled, examining your palm, wondering if he was going to kill you here and now, or keep you in here forever. "Listen, I have a reservation at Barcadia..."

"Mmm, Barcadia? Really?"

Bateman nodded and finally removed your hand. "Yes, I'm having lunch with Coutrney."

"I wonder what Luis thinks of these lunches with his fiancé." You picked up the folder and stepped back from his armchair. "You don't feel guilty about sleeping with Coutrney behind his back, do you?"

Gritting his perfectly white teeth, the brown-haired man abruptly got up from his desk and stormed toward you, surely intending to yell at you or say something rude, but the moment he stopped directly across from you and your eyes met, Bateman's expression suddenly became lost and confused. "Just stop," he finally managed to mutter. "Stop poking around in my fucking head…" As you noticed his pupils widening, things were no longer funny to you. "Understand?"

‘Well, maybe turning it into a joke is not a bad plan,’ you hummed and nodded. "Sure, Bateman," you sneered a little nervously. "I'm just reading this book Timothy gave me," you slowly turned and walked to the door. "The book about Human Psychology." That was surely a joke, but judging by the serious look Patrick gave you, he didn't seem to get it.

"Tim gave you... a book?" He repeated, frowning in confusion and disbelief.

When you opened the door, you paused for a second, wanting to say something smart at the end. "Oh yeah. Why don't you ask him about it? Maybe he can recommend some books about... human relationships or something." And with that, you smiled in satisfaction at seeing Bateman's face quiver with anger before you left his office, leaving him with a raging tempest in his chest.

Later that day, Patrick couldn't sleep because his mind was so full of different thoughts, but the only thing they had in common was that they were all connected to you. You, you, you. The sound of running water echoed off the marble walls of his lavish bathroom as Bateman stood in the shower, enjoying the way the strong streams of cold water hit his back. Huffing, Patrick desperately scrubbed his skin as if it would help him get rid of the thoughts of you that haunted him the day he first met you — you were so cheeky, so sweet, everyone loved you and wanted to hang out with you. How fucking cute. Patrick groaned as he felt a throb at the base of his hard cock, God, he felt like it was hard all the time and no sex could help him with that because all those people, they weren't you.

"Argh, fuck," he groaned as he finally allowed himself to touch his twitching dick and give it a few strokes.

"F-fuck..." Bateman pumped his length rhythmically, recoiling at the memories of today, the way you put your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of your breath on the back of his neck. And what would it feel like if you had placed your hand on his chest, or run it over his abdomen and then down?

"Uh, a-ahhh," the man moaned louder, shaking uncontrollably from the orgasm building at the base of his spine. "(Y/n), your hands feel so good on me, oh-shit…" Patrick had to lean against the shower wall as his legs buckled from the intense waves of ecstasy as he cummed with your name on his trembling lips, the water still running down his sculpted body, washing his cum off, but he was still so hard.

"Reading books on psychology," Bateman chuckled, tilting his head. "What an idiot." His nervous giggle bounced across the shower, but soon the laughter turned to a low wail. "Pathetic…”

Time flowed like sand through your fingers, and you couldn't even remember how many days had passed since your visit to Bateman's office, but since then something had changed between the two of you, but you both couldn't understand what exactly had changed, or maybe you didn't want to try to understand. To be fair, it was so fucking annoying that when you found out that Tim, David, Craig and Patrick were going to the Tunnel, you saw it as your chance to dot the T's, no matter how the evening would end.

When you arrived at the club, it was so crowded that it took you a while to find the group of yuppies sitting on the plush couches next to the dance floor, jamming to the music and drinking their cocktails.

As you approached, Craig was the first to spot you. "Woah, woah, look who it is!" His cheeky remark caused everyone to look at you, including Bateman, whose teeth were visibly clenched around his cigar at that moment.

"Hey, guys! Enjoying the music I see?" You smiled, fixing your hair briefly from the sudden rush of panic. ‘Damn it, stay calm! Why am I so nervous?’

Timothy winked at you and raised his glass. "Did you come alone or..." he stopped abruptly when he noticed someone behind your back. "Hey, is that Paul Allen?"

‘Shit, shit, shit. That was so much easier in my head than it is in reality.’ You chewed on your cheek, and while the men were guessing whether they really saw Paul Allen or not, a sudden idea came to your mind, but you hated it before you even started to bring it to life. "Do you have a gram?" You asked without thinking, hoping they would say no.

"I do," Bateman's voice came out of nowhere and you almost screamed in your head, but you had to keep your composure. "But you will owe me." As he said this, you came closer to where he was sitting with a playful smile on your face and took a seat next to him. "Wait, we are not going to do coke here."

"Hey, why not?" David chuckled and took out his business card holder. "What's wrong with it?

"Oh God, look at that cheeky bastard," Craig pressed a palm to his face. "Van Patten decided to be a bad boy today."

The men laughed and high-fived each other before Bateman whispered in your ear, making you almost jump. "Follow me." Those two simple words made you obey like you were under a spell.

As the two of you made your way to the bathroom where people in the Tunnel usually did coke, your heart pounded to the heavy beat of the music, or even faster. Patrick went first, his elegant silhouette like a shining star in the midnight sky — so eye-catching and mesmerizing that it wasn't surprising that a lot of people turned around to look at him, but you didn't care as soon you would be alone with him. ‘Just you and me, Bateman.’

The bathroom was surprisingly empty today. The last time you were there, you had to wait almost half an hour to get into the free stall, but now luck seemed to be on your side. As you stepped into one, Patrick pulled out his business card holder and rolled the $100 bill; you did the same, watching as Bateman made lines of coke with his platinum AmEx card.

"I have to say, you look much better." You commented briefly.

The man was about to lean over to snort the white powder, but your words made him freeze. "Huh," he chuckled abruptly and brushed away a stray lock of hair. "I was just reading some books about... relationships," Patrick grimaced, drawing out the last word with a cocky grin. "It changed my mind." Before you could say anything, Patrick was snorting the coke, holding the rolled-up bill to his nostril while holding another down with his thumb.

"Very funny," you mumbled, tapping the rolled note against the inside of your palm. "Where was your wit when I walked into your office a week ago?"

Bateman coughed quietly and threw his head back for a moment to clean his nose. "What does this have to do with anything?"

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to his business card holder to inhale the white line of powder that had been left there, your mood was already off, and at some point you even began to regret coming to Tunnel tonight. Though it wasn't your first time doing coke, you felt so dizzy as the drug began to intoxicate your system that you almost fell to the floor if you hadn't bumped into Bateman's chest, leaving a white stain on the lapel of his Valentino suit.

"Hey! What the fuck!" Patrick blurted out, ready to push you off, but the way you grabbed his shoulders stirred something strange inside him, something he was fighting all the time. "Have you ever done coke?"

You coughed several times, blinked nervously, and only then did you let him go. "Sorry..." you gasped and leaned against the wall of the stall behind your back. "It's been a while."

"You stained my jacket."

"God! I'm sorry, okay?"

"No," Bateman replied, brushing off. "Not okay."

"What do you mean?" You asked confusedly, batting your eyelashes and breathing heavily.

Patrick dropped his head for a second before looking at you again, your faces dangerously close. "I'm not okay."

You licked your lips nervously. "Why?"

Instead of saying anything, the man pulled you against his massive frame, giving you no time to react as his hot mouth covered yours; it was difficult to call it a kiss, it was more like the act of claiming — his strong arms trapping you between the wall and his muscular body while yours hovered motionlessly like whips. When Bateman released you, he tugged at your lower lip and licked it with a wet, obscene sound. "Because...because of this."

Panting, you stood in shock for a moment before nodding and touching your wet lips. "Yes," you put both hands on his chest, exploring it slowly but boldly, causing him to close his eyes for a second. "I don't think I'm okay either." After whispering it in his ear, you slid your tongue down his bare neck, right over the mole, and when you heard him grunting, you lowered your hand to his belt, playing teasingly with the buckle.

"Lower," Bateman husked, and when you didn't listen, he grabbed your hand and lowered it himself — the outline of his fully erected cock eliciting a muffled moan to break out of your cramped throat. "Ahhh-fuck."

"God, you're so needy," you murmured against his neck, busy undoing his belt. "So touchy."

It only took a few seconds for you to undo his pants and let his taut dick pop out of his underwear. ‘Mmhhm, his cock is so perfect, just as I expected,’ you smiled to yourself, and in the next moment you were stroking his throbbing length, smearing his slick pre-cum around his swollen tip without any shame or fear of getting caught.

"(Y/n)," Patrick hissed as he pressed you against the wall with his weight, his hands sneaking down your back to grope your ass. "Be quiet," the man ordered when he heard your soft moans. "Keep quiet and undo this." Bateman pointed to your bottom and just the thought of what he was about to do to you almost made you cum.

"Why?" You gave him a foxy grin and tightened your grip on his dick, forcing Patrick to hold his breath.

"Just...just do what I say..."

"Okay, honey."

"Don't call me that!" He uttered and squeezed your ass painfully, your bodies grinding against each other, making you hot and sweaty.

"Patrick..." You attempted to kiss him, but he turned away.

In one swift motion, the man reached your neck and aggressively nipped at the throbbing artery. "Shut up! Just shut up and undo this fucking..."

You didn't let him finish his tantrum as you caught his lips with yours, increasing the tempo of the jacking, and you could feel he was so damn close. But since he was so insistent, you undid the lower part of your garment, and everything that happened next was like one of your recent dreams. Bateman, flushed and panting, crouched down, his cock slipping out of your grasp, but the next second his fierce mouth found its way between your legs as he began to suck on your sensitive flesh with sheer greed and passion, not forgetting to pump his dick and growl softly against your skin.

"Ohh, Pat-Patrick," you gasped, tugging at his brown hair, dishevelling it, but neither of you cared. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop..."

"Mmm-fuck, you taste so sweet," Patrick pressed his face closer to your core, his free hand nailing you to the wall to hold you in place. "You're shaking like a fucking whore."

Chucking, you yanked at his hair a little harder. "And you're devouring me like a starved man, are you starved, Bateman? How long have you been... so fucking s-starved?" You hiccupped as he redoubled his efforts, lapping at your crotch and jerking himself off. "F-fuck, I'm... I'm gonna..."

The loud footsteps made you both stop in your tracks, and when you heard people coming into the bathroom, you stalled completely, only to quickly fix your clothes and then pretend nothing had happened as you left the stall. Later, as you were washing your hands, Patrick stood behind you and you met his eyes in the mirror. "Are you leaving or..." You asked briefly as he handed you your twisted bill.

"Yeah," Bateman straightened his jacket and wiped his mouth with a paper towel before opening the door. "You better forget about it. Believe me."

‘And now I feel like I need a memory reboot.’

Chapter 2 is here! 💗✌

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #patrick bateman x male reader #gn reader

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moneypriestess · 3 months

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OK, se we all know ghostspeak, right? It's a language for ghosts that comes from the ghost zone, and basically only halfas and ghosts can speak it on earth, but what if it's a forgotten language on earth?

----

It existed thousands of years ago, but slowly died off until no one remembered it.....until Tim went snooping in the house of mystery and came across an ancient book written in a language he didn't recognise.

After asking cough cough blackmailing cough John for the book Tim took it home and somehow forgotten about it, for about a week.

Now, during the week the book had been sitting in his room, Tim had gotten into an argument with Bruce, then with Alfred over his sleep, or lack thereof, and forced into decaf coffee for the rest of the month. So he was pretty frustrated, annoyed, and looking for revenge.

When Tim saw the book sitting on his desk innocently, he had a brilliant idea, a magnificent wonderful show stopping idea that would get his sweet sweet revenge.

Now, remember that Tim's brain is running on decaf coffee, no sleep, and no dopamine, it would not be too far fetched for him to think that because Alfred is obviously immortal he would know this ancient language, so Tim could learn this ancient language and insult his cooking in his (maybe) mother tongue! Obviously, it's a low blow, but revenge changes a person.

Tim spent the next month studying that book, staying locked in his room like the 'good grounded boy' he was. Obviously, Bruce knew something was up, but it didn't seem like Tim was up to a mastermindfull plan that might destroy or recreate gothams crime ring, so he let mumbling studying boy be.

Tim finally shut the book with a released sigh and sat up, cracking his back of the kinks and smirking at the victory he could already practically taste on his tongue. Today was the day. He was fairly confident that he had successfully broken through the language barrier and fluently learnt the once forgotten language.

Tim swaggered (yes, I said that, don't kill me) into the dining room and took a seat next to danny, his newest kindest and most naive brother, before looking towards everyone gathered today. It was the anniversary of Danny's first adoption, and everyone was here to celebrate it, even Jason of all people, though he could understand why. Since the two met, they had a seemingly special bond, and everyone knew Jason was Danny's favroute. No matter how hard dick tried to be.

Waiting until the food had come out and danny had successfully poked and prodded his plate to his liking, a weird ritual he did "to make sure it won't attack him" danny had said the first time anyone asked, everyone began eating. Tim hid a tiny smirk behind his bowed head as he finally said the words he had been waiting for all month.

"Looks like you're losing your touch, Alfred"

A second passed, no one says anything and Tim has just a smidgen of regret, did he say it right? Did he mispronounce something and make a fool of himself?

"Sniffle"

Tim's head shoots up to Alfred's, he only wanted to shock him and insult him a little bit! He didn't want him to start crying.

Yet Alfred's eyes were dry, and instead of looking at Tim, heck, no one was looking at Tim. They were all looking to the side of Tim, where danny sa-

Oh no, danny.

Tim swivelled his head and let his jaw open in shock as he sees danny full on breaking down, tears and snot covering his face that he desperately tries to wipe away as Jason kneeled beside him and tried to comfort him, the same static noises that Tim had made just before coming from his mouth.

Yet these were different, more confident in the tone and more soft and comforting than whatever Tim had said.

"Not-kill-dare-day-dann-calm-"

Tim could barely recognise the words coming from Jason's mouth and paled as he realised what that meant. It meant that he should have spent longer learning from the book, it meant he shouldn't have tried this in front of the entire family, it meant he had said something completely different than what he meant to say, the only question now is.

'What the fuck did I say?'

#crossover #dc x dp #crack #batfam #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dpxdc

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nelkcats · 11 months

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Stardew and the halfas

When Tucker told him that he needed to relax and recommended a game about being a farmer, Danny frowned and pushed him away. How could it help him to know how long tomatoes took to grow?

However, after a restless night, where his parents had shot him (curiously by accident), the halfa noticed the downloaded game on his computer and sighed. It must have been Tucker, but he had nothing to lose by trying.

He never thought that he would become addicted to said game, or that he would want to marry Sebastian (something about him was just- well, attractive, even halfas weren't immune to falling in love). The problem was that his schedule was strange and Sebastian didn't like any of his gifts!

He started to get desperate and visit forums of the game, found someone who had the same problem with Elliot, and somehow they started talking. Jason seemed pretty frustrated, and they bonded out of mutual frustration. Neither of them was willing to consult guidebooks out of simple pride, but they appreciated the recommendations.

So they bonded over Discord calls, trying each other's strategies, and quickly became friends. To the point that they did a farm in multiplayer. They had spent so much time in the game that they both almost forgot their problems in the real world.

After Danny didn't go online for a while, Jason decided to invite him to Gotham. The boy took a few hours to respond but in the end he accepted.

Tim couldn't believe it when he passed a coffee shop and saw Jason laughing with a guy (very suspicious, in a sweater, and what the hell... were those fangs?), they were both very close to each other pointing at something on their phones and laughing .

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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Bruharvey but Harvey desperately has to impress single parent Bruce Wayne's flock of protective kids.

OHH, I think both Harvey and Two Face acknowledge that, while Bruce loves all his children dearly and needs all of their blessings, they can be bribed one way or another;

Harvey's a whole mafioso that robs banks on the regular. He becomes the personification of " daddy's money."

Dick? All the gym equipment he can imagine.

Damian? Lifetime access to the Zoo + petting privileges.

Tim? His own coffee shop.

Cass doesn't ask for anything besides her dads happiness and safety, but Harvey buys her a ballet studio cause she's his princess

Duke? Again, doesn't ask for anything. " I'm frankly offended that you think my honor and love has a price, --"

" So you don't want your own Batmobile?"

"...Hold on. Let's talk."

But. That being said. There's one child whose word reigns supreme over everyone else's. The one lounged on Bruce's lap like an evil cat.

Jason.

He can't be bought; Or flattered. Or impressed. Or be reasoned with.

Let's face it, the guy who masterfully bended an entire criminal network on a rebellious whim has little reason to value your word over his.

Harvey tried everything. A library cropped straight out of beauty and the beast. A fully paid college tuition for creative writing and English literature. Sending Tim to Mexico.

Nothing.

"Well," Harvey looks at Alfred while downing his 4th glass of whiskey. Jason had just BIT HIM after he tried petting Bruce's hair, " If I made YOU like me, this should be nothing, right?"

Alfred looks at him as if he's a particularly stupid puppy.

"...You like me, right, Alfie?"

" You're breathing, aren't you?"

#dc #harvey dent #bruce wayne #bruharvey #dick grayson #cassandra cain #tim drake #jason todd #batfamily #protective batfamily #batfam #protective jason todd #duke thomas #text #text post #alfred pennyworth #damian wayne

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jasmines-library · 6 months

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Tired Eyes

WHUMPTOBER DAY 26: Prompt: “working to exhaustion”

Fandom: Batfam/DC

Summary: It’s been a long day, and you’re too caught up with work to take care of yourself, so it’s up to your brothers to do it for you.

Warnings: Exhaustion, overworking, none really it’s more fluffy than anything.

Word count: 1.2K

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

You weren’t tired. No. You just needed to rest your eyes a little, that was all.

The screen of the computer had begun to hurt your eyes, making your temples to throb so, with your elbows planted firmly on the table, you began to massage them to ease the pain, but here you found your eyes dropping closed and your head falling towards table. The dim lighting of the cave didn’t help much either.

As soon as your head hit your clammy palm, you jolted awake, sitting up abruptly and straightening your back against the chair, snapping back to the mountain of work that you needed to get done.

Your fingers moved sluggishly against the keyboard as you typed up the reports. It had been a busy week and so you were left with a large pile of unfinished essays to type and not a lot of time to do them. It was late; the rest of the boys had returned to their beds, deciding to write their reports the following day, but you were already behind which meant that despite the ungodly hour you were still plastered to the chair.

Reaching blindly for your coffee with one hand you wrapped your hands around the ceramic and brought it to your lips. The drink was lukewarm and bitter as it ran over your tongue, but you were desperate for the buzz that the caffeine gave you.

You hadn’t realised that the sun had crept up of you until Dick strolled into the room, barefoot and in his pyjamas. He did a double take when he saw you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked, frowning at you. At the sound of his voice you glanced over at him briefly, noting his messy hair. He observed the fact that you were still wearing the same clothes as you were when he went to bed last night. “Did you even go to sleep?”

You shook your head, continuing to press your fingers into the little plastic squares not even nothing to look his direction as you continued to work. “Nope.”

He narrowed his eyes. “How long have you been awake?”

“Dunno.” You shrugged. “What time is it?”

“6”

“ ‘Bout…26- 27 hours?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/n. You need sleep.”

“I will. I just need to get this done first. You can get me another coffee though?”

“Y/n-“

“Sorry Dick, can’t hear you over my cleverness.”

He rolled his eyes, but snatched the cup from your hand anyway and went to prepare breakfast.

It seemed like forever before you finally entered the last word on your essay slumped back against the chair. You were feeling exhausted and your body had began to grow stiff from sitting in the same place for so long, so after submitting it you shuffled into the kitchen where your brothers were sat lounging on chairs.

“Woah, Y/n.” Damian said through a mouthful of bacon that he had piled onto his plate “You look like hell.”

“Thanks Dames.” You scoffed. “Just what a woman wants to hear.

“I didn’t mean it like that-“

“She hasn’t slept.” Dick interjected.

Tim narrowed eyes at you over the top of his book. “What? Why?”

“I had too much to do, Jaybird.”

“Well then go to bed now.”

“Can’t.” You grabbed a slice of toast and slid it onto a plate. “Still got too much to do. Besides, I’m not tired.”

“Sure.” He rolled his eyes and went back to his book.

The rest of the day dragged on. You had busied yourself with small tasks that needed to be done during the day and then once all of those were done, you had spent some time in the training room to work on your technique, but your movements were slow and well below par so eventually you gave up, slipped off of the blue mat and dragged yourself towards the showers.

You twisted the dial all the way to the left, waiting for it to settle to an even temperature as you stepped out of your clothes. When you climbed into the shower, the cold water stung your skin as it ran down your back but it kept you wide awake and on your feet so with shaky hands you grabbed the shampoo bottles and began to massage it into your scalp. Although you were in and out quickly, by the time you were done and stepped out of the shower your body was wracked with shivers. Wrapping a thick white towel around you, you dried yourself off before changing into something comfier and creeping back down the stairs now feeling slightly more awake.

You made your way into the library, where shelves filled to the brim with books lined the walls. You ran your fingers against the shelves and noted that when you pulled your hand away you had collecting a thin sheen of dust.

“Don’t even think about it.”

Tim was rounding the corner to return his book that had been absentmindedly flicking through the all day but found that it didn’t give him the thrill he was looking for, so he had wandered back to the library to select another on me when he heard you shuffling around.

“But it needs to be done-“

“Alfred will do it.” Tim told you, placing a large hand on your shoulders and steering you away from the shelves after you had selected a book. A blue hardback covered dainty little flowers embroidered along the spine.

“But he already has so much to do.” You protested.

“It’s his job, y/n/n. And you need to get some sleep.”

You sighed. “I’m not tired, Tim. Seriously lay off it.”

He raised his hands in surrender and wheeled away in a huff. You settled down on the plush sofa, bringing your knees to your chest to read under the gentle light and revel in the silence for just a few moments. Tim settled opposite you, sprawling out across the other couch.

For the next few hours the only sound that filled the room was the gentle flick of turning pages. That was until the other three came bundling in, but you didn’t notice. You had drifted off into a mindless sleep.

You were woken to a a gentle nudge on your shoulder and you sat up abruptly.

“Hmm? What?”

“You fell asleep.” Jason told you.

“No I didn’t…” you mumbled.

Jason pursed his lips. “I think you did.”

You blinked at him.

“Seriously, y/n just go to bed.” Damian told you.

You contemplated for a moment before hauling yourself up onto your feet. You stumbled across the room when a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over you and you were forced to grip onto the counter to keep yourself upright. When you moved to take another step, dragging your feet along the carpet you stumbled again.

“Alright. That’s it.” Dick stood up and moved across the room with one big stride, picking you up effortlessly and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down.”

Someone snickered behind you.

“No can do little bat. You’re going to bed.”

He hauled you off to your room ignoring your remarks and pointless excuses. When he reached your door, he threw you over his shoulder and onto the bed. You tried to crawl away, but he just grabbed your ankle and pushed you back onto your pillows.

“Sleep.” He told you firmly, using his voice that only came out when he was ordering the rest of you around during a patrol. You pouted, glaring at him through hooded eyes, but he just gave you a little smirk, drew the curtains and moved to the door ignoring your antics.

“Goodnight, y/n. Sleep well.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 25 ⛤ DAY 27 ->

Taglist:

@deans-spinster-witch

@senjoritanana

@amaryllis23

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 1 year

Text

It was only supposed to be a simple mission. Red Robin and Nightwing were sent to investigate some magical ruins that might have a lead on one of thier shared cases. Kon had practically begged to come along since he and Tim hadn't seen eachother in a while. Nightwing didn't see a problem with it so off they went.

It was later that night when they were asleep in thier tents (Timm was forced to sleep via the power of kons puppy dog eyes) that something strange happened.

---

Phantom wobbled a bit in flight. He didn't know where or when he was. He had just escaped his parents after they saw Vlad transform and in a fit of rage, Vlad outed Danny too.

Vlad was killed pretty quickly. But Danny? They tried to "fix" Danny. It was only thanks to Jazz freeing him that he could bolt into the Ghost Zone and disappear. And bolt he did. He went so far so fast that he didn't even notice when he re-entered the living realms and just kept going.

Not wanting to make his situation worse, he decided to bed down for the night. His wounds weren't exactly healed but they were closed and that was what really mattered. He phased the blood out of his clothes as he silently approached a camp. Thier fire was out, properly drenched too. Danny had a thought to swipe some food but decided not to. Not out of morality, desperate times and all that, but because he physically couldn't muster up the energy to do anything more than curl up on the grass and pass out from exhaustion.

Needless to say when Tim wakes up the next morning and sees what appears to be a younger version of himself curled up outside he freaks out. He sneakily snags a sample and compared it to his own DNA and, suprise! Its a match. Aside from the obvious marks of cloning in his genetic structure and this odd unknown element sticking to it he was a perfect match for Tim Drake Wayne.

Nightwing woke up to find Tim standing over his unconscious mini and muttering about him being a dad. Dick was glad he packed that expensive coffee. They were all going to need it.

Kon was just excited to be an uncle.

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suzukiblu · 8 months

Note

If you are still taking requests I would love some Jason Todd!

There's a couple of ways to ID a soulmate, but the traditional–and usual–one is a kiss. Basically any exchange of bodily fluids will do it, of course, but most people kiss way before they get around to fucking bareback and a kiss is also definitely less likely to result in hepatitis than swapping blood with strangers. And, like, it's also more romantic and that tends to appeal to people more even when the involved soulmates aren't actually romantic. Like it's way easier to laugh off that one time you slipped your destined BFF tongue than it is to explain a bloodborne illness to your GP.

So naturally, Jason finds out who his soulmate is by accidentally bleeding all over the guy in the middle of a random stupid throwdown with supervillains in San Francisco.

Also, naturally said guy is Tim's boyfriend who still justifiably hates Jason's ass for all the fucked up shit he's done and said to Tim.

Jason is pretty sure this would count as another reason for Superboy to hate his ass, except the one mercy in this situation is that Superboy was unconscious for their accidental blood-swap, so he at least doesn't know they're soulmates.

The lucky bastard.

Fuck everything, Jason thinks, and then resolves to never think about it again. Which he doesn't, because even having a thought around Bruce is basically the same thing as handing the bastard a signed confession.

It sucks, admittedly? Like, Jason's not gonna pretend it doesn't suck. He didn't ever think he'd get a coffee shop meet-cute with his soulmate, assuming he had enough of a soul left to actually have one, but he'd at least expected to get somebody who wasn't already dating the brother he's treated worst and who did not, ideally, hate his guts.

Or who at least hated his guts in a sexy way that could result in a nice enemies-with-benefits situation to spice up his sex life and maybe hopefully one day evolve into . . . he doesn't know, frenemies-with-benefits? Or something?

Superboy is not gonna be up for cheating on his boyfriend with said boyfriend's adoptive brother, Jason is very damn sure. For one thing, if he was, Jason wouldn't want to fuck him anyway, much less be his soulmate. Jason is a murderer and a bastard but he is also a ride or die, okay, and he doesn't give a shit what the universe says, there is no damn way that he'd accept a soulmate like that.

Also, like, since the accidental blood-swap went down, now when they get close enough there's an empathy bond going and Jason can absolutely feel how fucking <i>besotted</i> Superboy is by every little thing Tim does and says and just is.

And he can also feel how much the guy hates him.

Jason has never had better control of his pit rage than since realizing that if Superboy ever felt it, it'd be absolutely undeniably obvious what it was and where it was coming from.

It is fucking amazing what a desperate person can get a handle on. Like, really.

Jason went to fucking therapy for this shit. It sucks and he hates it and he wants to burn down the whole stupid office every time, but he's still going every week because fuck forbid he lose control enough that somebody realize something is up.

Jason's self-control is not helped by the fact that Superboy has his own anger issues, but it's not like they get all that close to each other all that often anyway. He very rarely has to worry about Superboy picking up on anything from him. Mostly he just has to worry about not being any worse to Tim than he already has been and making excuses to avoid any situation that Superboy might theoretically pop up in. He has absolutely no designs on fucking up Tim's relationship. Ever.

He guesses he and Superboy could have a platonic bond, admittedly. Like, that's possible.

Except Superboy constantly insists on wearing a painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather and strappy belts and looking like a porn star parody of a superhero, along with regularly smirking like a cocky asshole who just so happens to be the second coming of sin, and Jason has a very difficult time not finding all of that just unspeakably hot, so that seems unlikely.

So yeah, Jason's definitely not telling anyone that they're soulmates. Possibly ever. At least not as long as Superboy and Tim are still into each other and in undeniably perfect romantic love, anyway.

It's not like Jason's waiting for them to break up or something, or for the probably likelier but much more upsetting option that is Tim fucking dying. He's a bastard, again, but he's not that kind of a bastard.

He really hopes this is just one of those bullshit bonds that don't actually become relevant until the involved bondmates are, like, octogenarians or whatever. Which is not something Jason would've ever expected to want from his soulmate, but Jason also did not ever expect his soulmate to turn out to be Tim's boyfriend, so yeah. Well, life's a bitch and also full of surprises.

It's impossible to always avoid Superboy, all things considered, but Jason usually can, and thanks to Bat-training and his time with the League and just who he is as a person he's very good at keeping his emotions on lockdown when the dude's around without it actually looking like he's keeping his emotions on lockdown. Mostly he just ignores him and acts like he thinks he's irrelevant, and Superboy seems perfectly happy with that.

But again, it's impossible to always avoid him, and they're on the same side and everything, more or less. Jason therefore can't technically bitch about the guy randomly landing in the middle of his rooftop stakeout wearing that cocky asshole smirk of his and also his painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather.

Or he couldn't, except that it is very obviously not actually Superboy wearing all those things. For starters, Superboy never wears that smirk when he's looking at Jason.

For another thing, Jason knows his own damn soulmate when he sees him. Like, he is not actually that oblivious or stupid a person as to not recognize his own damn soulmate.

"Hey, man," fake Superboy greets casually as his boots hit the roof. Jason runs the internal numbers on whether or not fake Superboy has real Kryptonian powers and decides better safe than sorry, then hits the panic button hidden in the collar of his jacket as he turns to fully face him, making the gesture look like an idle adjustment.

"Robin need something?" he asks, cocking his head questioningly. Seems wisest to pretend like he's falling for this bullshit, whatever it is. Especially if Kryptonian powers are currently a concern.

"Naw," the fake Superboy says, his smirk widening crookedly. "This one's an . . . off-the-books social call, as it were."

"Oh, we make social calls, now?" Jason asks dryly, resisting the irrational urge to hit his panic button again. Not actually a helpful urge, that. The thing's already streaming live audio and video to Oracle and the Batcomputer to get everyone in the loop on what the problem is, that's all that matters. Extra hitting would just make it likelier that fake Superboy might notice something.

"Maybe I just wanted to see you, Hood," fake Superboy says as his smirk turns into a wicked grin, and steps towards Jason with very familiar and incredibly unsubtle body language that, again, has never once been directed towards him.

Goddammit.

Well, good thing Jason hit his panic button, because there is no damn way this is ending well. He's never actually used the thing before, it's a recent addition to his gear now that he and the Bats are actually mostly working together again, but he already appreciates said addition very, very much.

Assuming that Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight, anyway.

Fuck, he'd better be.

. . . also assuming that whoever this fake Superboy is happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Or at least currently happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Jason's not sure if this is like a bodyswap situation or a more traditional possession or just a doppelganger or a shapeshifter, but who the hell even knows. Not mind control, he's pretty sure, unless it's the kind that really fucks with somebody's personality. Like, yes, that is Superboy's body language and Superboy's facial expressions and even Superboy's microexpressions, but it's just . . . not Superboy behind any of it. Like, very obviously not.

. . . weirdly obviously, actually. Like, Jason's really feeling the uncanny valley right now.

Ugh.

Well, hopefully this person or thing or weird psychic projection thinks he's fucking stupid.

"Did you now," Jason says, eyeing fake Superboy through his helmet. Schooling his expression doesn't really matter right now, except of course X-ray vision is a thing, so actually never mind, maybe it does. Again: goddammit.

Definitely gonna need to keep a handle on his heart rate here.

"Eh, what can I say, Rob was being a basic bitch again and I got bored," fake Superboy says with a dismissive shrug, which is something Jason would pistol-whip the real Superboy for saying but at least provides him a pretty solid script to go off while he waits for reinforcements to show.

He'd rather be making with the pistol-whipping, though.

#jason todd #red hood #batman #jaykon #rinfic #miri-tiazan #long post #wip: jaykon soulmates and timkon datemates

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ailithnight · 1 year

Text

*Whoops. Forgot to title and link previous chapters. Fight me, I just woke up.

A King in Arkham

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

"Tim. Tim you have to get me copies of this footage." Tim is not surprised by the request. In fact, the 'Sure' is already on his tongue when he pauses, a thought creeping into his head, seeded by the notification Tim really hopes Jason isn't paying attention to in the bottom corner of the computer.

"One condition."

"Fuck you, I knew you'd want something. What? You want my cookies? Coffee? For Red Hood to go on camera singing praises for Red Robin? I'll fuckin do it. Just send me the god damn clips."

"Nope, nope, and tempting, but no."

"Name your price, Replacement. I'll pay it."

"Swear you aren't going to go rush in and extract the kid until we're done investigating him."

"What!? Fuck that! I told you was pulling him out next chance I get!" Tim lets himself groan in annoyance.

"Look, anyone that could do that-" Tim gestures to the part of the screen where they'd pulled up The Joker's medical reports following the incidents, showing pictures and descriptions of just how thoroughly Daniel had beat his ass 3 weeks in a row, "without getting so much as a scratch or fucking bruise in return, has got something going on. There may well be a reason they sent him to Arkham!"

Jason's eyes narrow at Tim as he all but growls, "No reason is good enough to put-"

"A fifteen year old in Arkham. I fucking know that, Hood. But we still need to know exactly who we're dealing with when we get him out. What his deal is. If his dangerous. What the hell was so wrong with him that someone thought it was a good idea to stick him in there to begin with."

"He could get hurt while we're sitting on our asses trying to satisfy fuckin Bat paranoia!"

"He took down the Joker! Clearly he can take care of himself."

"Then who has been hurting him!?"

"Maybe him fucking self!" Tim knew he was pushing it. The green growing stronger in Jason's eyes was proof. But he needed to buy them some time before Jason made thing exponentially harder by storming the castle. Still, now he needed to calm Jason down before he went into a full rage. So Tim held up his hands placatingly.

"A few days, Jay. Just give us a few more days. I'm already almost through the Arkham reports, and there are only a handful from Chicago and Oracle is probably going to announce any minute now that she got through the communications blackout around his home town. We just need a bit more time to sort out intel so that we actually know how to help him once we get him out."

Finally, after a tense 34 seconds, green fades back into blue and Jason let's out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. But I get to tell the Bat about Daniel's discipline slips. Wanna see his fuckin face when I do."

"Deal." Tim hurriedly puts a comm in as Jason watches with narrowed eyes.

Batman.

Red Robin. Ready to fill me in?

Not yet, you're about to be busy. I isolated a pattern earlier. Exactly 15 minutes before the locks malfunction, there's been a strange power surge. Always written off. But the surge doesn't seem to be coming from the grid. And like I said, exactly 15 minutes later is when the locks malfunction.

Jason huffs as he catches on. Apparently he hadn't thought to question why Tim was so desperate to buy time before.

Robin responds, since he's on stakeout with Bruce. Mostly because Bruce won't let him watch the asylum alone. Much as the kid hates it, the rest of the family agrees. It's only a matter of time before someone in max security manages to take advantage of theses malfunctions. So far Croc is the only one who had, though thankfully he's not one to start shit on his own. But with Joker, Scarecrow, and TwoFace all inside; any one of them, or god forbid all three, could make for a real bad situation.

Tt. So you can tell before a malfunction happens.

Think so. Last power surge was 8 minutes ago.

And you are only telling us now, why Drake?

Codenames.

Cause he spent those 8 convincing me not to go get our kid out yet.

6 minutes. See if you can stop things before they start.

I'm not far out. Want me to join you?

Tt. I doubt we'll need your assistance, Signal. We shall be done before you get here.

No wait. Signal, head in. See if you can get a read on 26B.

You think he might be meta?

Hood?

Jason glares at Tim betrayed.

"I wanted to see his fuckin face."

Tim just waves him off.

"They need to know. You tell them or I do."

Boys

Jason scowls, but relents.

He put the Joker in the infirmary on his 1st, 7th, and 15th days there. All 3 times took no damage himself. Feral child had to be pulled off and still didn't stop struggling till the clown was out of sight.

All 3 assaults followed by panic attacks, though whether about the Joker himself or what Daniel had done to him, we don't know yet.

The comms were silent for a moment.

A 15 year old...

Did what you've never had the balls to old man.

...I've fought the Joker.

Daniel hits first.

Hnn

I will admit, it is impressive that he can take the Joker down alone. Perhaps he will make for a worthy brother after all.

4 minutes.

We're moving in. Thank you Red Robin, Hood.

The fuck are you thanking me for?

For helping. And giving us time to work this out.

ETA 7 minutes out. Be with you shortly.

The advanced warning proved invaluable for Batman and Robin. After alerting the chief of security of their supposed pattern, he had guards already in motion when the doors swung open. Batman took a perch to watch for max security escapees while Robin assisted the guards in keeping inmates corralled. Many didn't even bother to leave their designated areas, having already seen the Bats in the building.

No sign of any max security inmates. Normally, Batman would find this concerning. And while he did file it away to ponder later why no one from max security ever seemed to make it out of that wing, for today he counted the blessing that he would not have to try to keep Robin safe while dealing with someone like the Joker.

Batman tracked motion through the crowds, watching as a black mop of hair moved, seemingly otherwise unnoticed, through the sea of people. He thought to move in to direct the person back towards where people were being herded to, but the small figure merely walked towards the B wing and entered one of the far cells. That gave Bruce a sneaking suspicion of which patient that was. He moved to get a closer look as Signal swooped in.

"Where is he?"

"I believe he just went into his cell. This way." Batman led Signal to the cell he'd seen that tiny person enter. It was indeed 26B and there was indeed a small, too small, frail looking boy lying on the bed there. A red blotch had appeared under his left eye even though Bruce was certain there had been no injury there as the boy had crossed the hall.

Signal froze beside him, breath stuttering. The boy briefly glanced at them through the corner of his eye, mouth twitching into a brief frown. Then his eyes turned back to the ceiling and his face smoothed out. Bruce couldn't help but reach out.

"Hello." The boy said nothing. Signal opened and closed his mouth, seeming to try to say something, but unable to get words out. Batman wondered what he must be seeing. "You seem hurt. Do you need help?" Eyes flickered back to him and away just as quickly.

"Nothing you can help with Mr. Batman." And oh, how Bruce hated the kid's voice. So quiet and so so hollow. Bruce's mind flashed to his children, imagining any them speaking with such emptiness. His heart clenched, wondering what could have happened to this boy to have snuffed the life out of him so young.

Duke found his voice again, just as the doors buzzed and swung shut again.

"What are you?" Bruce frowned, looking at his latest. Who was looking, as Bruce tracked his gaze, not at Daniel but at the space just above him. Daniel himself seemed to take interest all of a sudden, breaking away his upward gaze to roll his head and look at them. Confusion plain on his face, the first hint of life shining dimly in his eyes.

"Signal? Signal, what do you see?" Batman asked. Robin materialized beside them. The daytime hero stepped forward, then back, light sparking and fizzling around his fingertips.

"There's something in there with him."

Daniel looked back up, where Signal still had his gazed trained on something Batman couldn't see. Even Robin seemed confused, though he no doubt trusted Signal's meta sight.

"Don't worry," Daniel murmured, "S'just a ghost. She can't hurt you."

This 'ghost' seemed unhappy either with the teen's words or this turn of events. Daniel's head snapped back to the side again, causing Batman and Signal to wince while Robin watched stoically. 4 red scratches appeared on Daniel's right cheek, as though he had been backhanded by someone with clawlike nails. A light chill brushed through him and Signal tensed, then relaxed, his gaze finally turning from the emptiness above Daniel to the boy himself. Batman took that as a sign that the... entity, was gone.

Daniel did not react to the obvious abuse from an invisible assailant. He mechanically turned his head back, once more dead and glazed eyes returning to the cracks in the ceiling of his cell. "You should go now. The guards will come around soon to make sure I'm still here."

Bruce wanted so badly to say 'Don't worry, we'll get you out of here.' But Batman was more restrained than that. He would get the child out. But he would have a plan first. For now, Bruce placed a hand each on the shoulders of Duke and Damien, guiding them away. Only when they were back outside did Bruce let them go. Only when they were perched on a rooftop half a block away did Batman pause.

"Robin, report."

"No escaped inmates and no sign of any from maximum security."

"Good. Signal, any information on what you saw in there." Duke rubbed at his eyes.

"A ghost, I guess? I don't know. It was weird. She didn't really have an aura. It was more like, an absence of aura. Like she was a black hole, drawing all the light in."

Even behind the domino, Bruce could tell Damien rolled his eyes.

"And what of the patient, Thomas? Was he not the one you were sent to look at?" Batman bit back the reprimand for codenames, more interested in Signal's response. Signal seemed to think for a moment, then shook his head.

"He definitely had a pretty distinct aura. It... felt powerful. But it looked weak. Dim. When the ghost... struck him, it flared up a bit, but died back down almost instantly. I... I get the feeling he was holding it back. Almost like he was afraid of it. Of himself."

"Hnn. Good job Signal. Robin. You two are welcome to head back to the cave. I'll take the rest of this Arkham shift."

At that moment, the comms crackled to life.

Actually B, you may want to come in, also. Arkham should be fine. And I found why they sent the kid there.

#A King in Arkham #DP x DC #my writing #In case ya can't tell #I have no idea what the layout of Arkham is supposed to be #So I'm just kind of imagining a tv stereotypical prison layout #Two story room with double layers cells #Congregating area in the middle #Max security off in its own section #Probably not at all what Arkham is supposed to look like #But I reckon the details can be a bit nebulous for the sake of fanfiction

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 3 months

Text

These hands may be bloody (but they're still mine and I'm still yours)

Blood nose and a crooked tongue (I always wanted to be someone) - series masterlist here

pairing: tim drake x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: there's some talk of timmy being able to hurt reader, but the point is that he doesn't

a/n: hmmmmm actually this is a really good one enjoy <3

"You know, my front door works very well," you point out without looking up, your eyes still trained on the case file in your lap as you sit on your couch, listening to your balcony door click shut and heavy boots walk across your living room.

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" Red Robin drawls as he settles on the arm of your couch, leaning over to try to look at your file before you snap it shut and throw it onto your coffee table.

"There are a lot of apartments to break into around here, Red. You should start branching out." You quip.

"Those other apartments don't give me what I need."

"Which is…?" You prompt. He extends his hand, dropping a flash memory drive into your lap. You look at him witheringly. "I should start charging you."

"I don't have the time to keep eyes on all the leads I need to. Help me out a little." Red Robin smiles, a sharp grin that seems to glint in the darkness of your apartment.

"I did," you emphasize. "I've helped you out for weeks. When are you gonna have enough of me, Red?"

"You watch the news, I'm sure." He ignores your question. "The intel you're helping me get is doing real damage to the drops trade. You're making Gotham a better place. You're doing something good here."

"Should I pull out the pompoms or are you done with the cheerleading speech?" You shoot back dryly.

"C'mon, please. Just… give me a little something. Help me out here," Red Robin slides off the arm of your couch so that he can kneel in front of you, propping his chin on his hand and looking at you imploringly through his mask.

"Don't grovel. It freaks me out," you say. He laughs. Your heart thumps at the sound in a way you hate.

"Please…?"

"Fine. Just - get up, will you?" You snap as he pulls himself up to his feet. The way he stands in front of you, towering over your sitting form with his arms crossed menacingly, you faintly remember in the back of your head that you should be afraid of him. The moonlight from your windows lights his silhouette like a halo, his face hidden from you as you stare up at him. He could hurt me, you think. Why hasn't he, yet?

"I'm not going to hurt you," he says plainly.

"Excuse me?" You shift, wishing you had a mask of your own.

"You can say no to me. Give me back the drive and I'll leave. You'll never see me again." Your eyes flit over Red Robin's face at his words, wishing desperately that you could see his face so that maybe you could begin to guess what's going on in his mind. But he stays standing, shrouded in the darkness of night as he looks down on you, his posture straight and his muscles taut. He's… offended, you think maybe. Huh.

"If I thought you were going to hurt me, I wouldn't be so apt to keep letting you into my home," you say softly. The muscles of his forearms tighten where his arms are crossed and you wince internally at the words you chose. Wrong answer, you think. Somewhere fuzzy in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility that you might make him angry enough that he does hurt you.

"Are you letting me in? Really? Could you find a way to keep me out if you wanted to?" Red Robin points out. You freeze, your mind spinning at the insinuation of his words - at the reminder that the two of you are inherently on uneven footing. No matter how much he tries to hide his teeth behind a wolfish grin, you are still a lamb led to slaughter every time he slips through your balcony door.

"Yes," you say stubbornly. "I would ask you to leave… and you would. That's all I ever need to keep you out." Your fingers tangle in the blanket that's thrown haphazardly over your couch as you wait for his response. Tell me I'm right, you think pleadingly. Tell me you'll listen when I tell you to stay or go.

Red Robin's shoulders slouch, his posture deflating as he sags, bending to sit perched on the edge of your coffee table and look at you. He reaches forward with a slowness that has to be deliberate, using gentle fingers to brush a stray strand of hair from your face before he pulls back quickly.

"Yes," he says, and his voice rings with a conviction that you haven't heard from him before. "That's all you'll ever need. Say the word and I leave. Or… or say the word and I… stay." You release a breath at his words, leaning back to sag against your couch and look him up and down.

There's a silence that hangs between the two of you, bated breath held by Tim as he waits for your response. Please tell me to stay, he wants to beg. Please tell me you believe me. Please let me keep you safe. He watches as your eyes flit over him, mulling over his words as you make your decision. I'm a dog with a bloody muzzle, I know, but it will never be your blood on my teeth.

"Leave the drive with me," your words snap him out of his inner spiralling and Red Robin straightens, the wood of your coffee table legs shifting slightly under his weight. "I'll let you know when - if I find something."

He nods stiffly and stands, stepping over your legs easily to make his way back to your door. Your hand shooting out to grab onto his stops him in his tracks, though, and when he looks down at you, you pull back, opening your mouth to utter an apology. Before you can, though, he crouches in front of you again, reaching to take your hand back into his, his brow furrowed in sudden worry.

"Next time you come around…" you begin, and his heart thumps at the over-confident, teasing tone that's made its way back into your voice. "Don't sit on my coffee table like that. You'll break it. The couch arms, too. I have real chairs for a reason." Red Robin laughs and squeezes your hand before letting it go and standing, moving back towards your balcony door.

"I'll keep that in mind… for next time," he says, sliding the door open. Before he slips through it and into the darkness, though, he stops to look at you one last time.

"It's your fault, you know," he says plainly.

"What?"

"You never told me what your rate is."

"What are you talking about?" You sigh.

"I can't pay you… I don't know how much I owe you. You haven't told me what you're charging," he points out. You stare back at him, and although the shadows obscure his masked face once again, you find it doesn't bother you so much.

"...you don't owe me anything, Red. You never will," you say gently. He doesn't smile this time - instead, an emotional little noise gets punched out of his lungs before he nods his head, slipping out into the night and closing your door silently behind him. As you sit on the couch, turning the memory drive over in your hands, you hear the faint click of the door being locked again somehow from the outside and you smile to yourself. It doesn't seem too bad to have a wolf at your door some nights.

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake imagine #tim drake fanfiction #tim drake fic #tim drake x y/n #red robin #red robin x reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #red robin imagine #red robin dc #timothy drake #smsn.writes

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stormyelliotwritez · 20 days

Note

Hey could you write batfam x male reader who is Jason's secret brother? Like batfam as in Bruce, dick, Jason, Tim and Damian, and like after Jason's death and resurrection they finally figure out that Jason had an older brother? Jason hardly remebers him because 1. He died and his memories are a bit fuzzy and 2. He was very young when he last saw his brother. I feel like the male reader took care of Jason, but at some point to try and give Jason a better life he left for sile shady work that promised a good amount of money, that would help Jason stay afloat? And after the batfam find out they obviously try to find him, and Bruce obviously tries to adopt him (even if he's an adult) so he can be reunited with his brother

yes yes yesssss. I was just going to write headcanons but I ended up with too many ideas so have a mini fic! I don't have the best grasp on the whole resurrection part coz I haven't read under the red so that'll be a bit vague. I'm so sorry this took so long. I got crazy writers block but here it is. Tell me if you want more of them or like headcanons because I'm lowkey obsessed with Jason having an older brother.

—————————————————————————

"Hey Bruce, why isn't Jason the first Todd that comes up when you look up Todd death report?" Dick asked as he walked into the Batcave and sat down on the table behind Bruce.

Bruce turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He had no idea what his son was talking about as he'd never looked up the reports. He knew his son had died and he hadn't wanted to know anything more. He'd failed his son, and he didn't want to be reminded of it.

"He's the only Todd I'm aware of," Bruce turned his chair around and looked at his eldest son, "Jason doesn't have any relatives."

Dick turned his laptop around and right at the top of the report, it said Y/N Todd. The cause of death just said explosion and body not found.

"Does that sound suspicious to you as well, Bruce?" Dick asked as he leaned forwards slightly.

"Go ask Tim to look more into it," Bruce turned his chair back around, "and don't tell Jason. We've only just got him to stay so there's no need to spook him."

Dick nodded and then walked out of the Batcave.

~~~~~~~~~

A few days had passed, and Dick hadn’t brought it up to Bruce again. He had gone and asked Tim though and sworn him to secrecy. He didn’t talk to Jason much, so it wasn’t that hard anyways.

Jason was sitting in the library when Dick came in and seemed to be second guessing himself.

“You don’t read,” Jason said bluntly without looking up from his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

“I totally read,” Dick stumbled through the sentence as he walked over and sat down on an armchair opposite from Jason, “What are you reading anyways?”

Jason looked up at him, confused. What the fuck is Dick on, was all he was thinking. Dick was being nice, and he was normally nice, but this was awkward. This was like the same level of awkward he’d been for the first few days that Jason had been living at Wayne Manor. He had been so confident but also such a nervous wreck.

“Pride and Prejudice. Did you get sprayed with some drug on patrol?” Jason asked as he looked his older brother up and down.

“Nope nopity nope. I just wanted to hang out with you,” Dick said as though that explained why he was more skittish than a newborn kitten.

Jason nodded and then went back to reading. “I don’t remember him that much,” he said offhandedly as Dick went to stand up.

“How did you-” Dick said as he swung around and almost tripped over his feet.

“Tim talks a lot when he’s tired and you’re holding a coffee that he so desperately wants,” Jason replied with a shrug.

Dick’s jaw dropped. “You’re not mad that I’m snooping in your business? When you were little, I touched one of your first edition books and you cried for days.”

Jason’s head turned to look at Dick in two seconds flat. “I what?”

Dick’s eyebrow raised as he stared blankly at his little brother. “You don’t remember?”

The two of them stood silently as they processed what had been said. Jason hadn’t thought he’d lost that much. Dick hadn’t realized that either. He hadn’t realized Jason had lost anything. They didn’t talk much. Talking hurts and they’re both fragile which is seeming to be a trend in this family. (Bruce pay for therapy challenge???)

They stayed in silence for a few minutes before the door opened again and Damian walked in.

“Tim snitched. Your brother worked for some gang guy in Star City until he somehow quit. He’s back in Gotham for the next two weeks staying with,” Damian looked down at his phone and raised an eyebrow, “Selina?”

“How does Tim still keep his identity secret? Wait, so like dads on-off girlfriend, Selina?” Dick asked as he looked at their youngest brother with his eyebrows raised.

“Do we know any other Selinas, big bird?” Jason asked as his head swivelled to look in Dicks direction again.

Dick shrugged and seemed to be thinking. “So, we could just call Selina and ask about your mysterious brother?” He said observantly.

Damian sighed in frustration. “Yes, lets just call up Selina and ask her if she’s hosting Jason’s supposed to be dead brother!”

“It’s a good idea,” Dick tried to protest as he looked to Jason for backup. Jason raised his hands as if to say nope don’t involve me.

“No, it’s not. It’s really surprising that you’re not father’s actual son. You’re both stupid,” Damian replied as he scrolled on his phone until he found what he was looking for. His face lit up and he showed the screen. “There’s a gala on tomorrow. Selinas bound to go just to flirt with father, and she’ll probably take Y/N.”

“Ok, that is a better idea than mine,” Dick muttered as he crossed his arms and sulked.

“All of demon brats ideas are better than yours, Dickybird,” Jason said as he sat back down and reopened his book.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The night of the gala couldn’t come quick enough. Bruce was sitting at the kitchen table in his suit a good hour before they had to go and at that point, he wished he’d hadn’t broken his earbuds the day before. Jason and Tim were shouting at each other in the main first floor bathroom and Damian was about to tackle Dick for making him wear a blue tie. Cass and Steph were on a video chat with Barbs because she was currently at a tech conference so couldn’t make it.

Five minutes before they had to leave, Damian ran out of some room with Dick chasing him. Jason and Tim both tried to run out of the bathroom door at the same time, so Tim slammed into the wall. Steph and Cass walked calmy into the kitchen and laughed at the boys running rampant. Duke had offered to go on patrol solely because he didn’t want to go to the gala.

They all left the mansion and clambered into multiple cars.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gala was bustling, and Bruce made his entrance followed by his entourage of children. The questions started up, but all Jason could think about was whether his older brother was there. Dick was standing close to him and swatting away any stuffy aristocrats who wanted to say how much he looked like the Wayne son who had died as a child.

Tim dragged his feet across the gala to where Dick and Jason were standing. He flopped onto the chair next to Jason and slammed his head down onto the table.

“No coffee?” Dick asked as he leaned against the wall and death stared another aristocrat who wanted their weekly Wayne drama fix.

“When have any of these events ever had coffee and I’m too young to drink and also Y/N is at the bar,” Tim rambled as he sat up straight and rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“You’re like 18, I was drinking from like 15,” Jason started before his brain caught up with the whole sentence, “The bar?”

Tim nodded and fell forwards again. Dick put his hand out at a speed that could rival Wally and caught his younger brothers head. He nodded at Jason who jumped out of his chair and started briskly walking towards the bar.

At the bar, there sat a guy who looked to be in his 30s with bright red hair. A champagne glass was seated in front of him, and he was staring off into space.

Jason walked over and sat down next to him. He didn’t say anything but instead asked the bartender for a gin and tonic and glanced next to him. Y/N looked just like the fuzzy memories he had of him.

“You new around here?” Jason asked as he waited for the bartender to finish his drink.

The guy who was most likely his older brother didn’t say anything in response. He just sighed and sipped his champagne.

“Haven’t seen you at one of these before. You, uh, came with Ms Kyle?”

The guy gave him a nod in response as he rolled up his sleeves slightly. Jason looked down and saw the burn scar from when they’d been making pasta when he was little. His jaw dropped slightly before he recovered quickly. This was absolutely his older brother so what was he supposed to do now?

“I’m Jason Wayne,” he said so as to not spook Y/N.

“Y/N Todd,” Y/N glanced at Jason, “You look like someone I used to know. Have we met before?”

Jason laughed nervously. “If you’ve come to a gala before, probably.”

“Yeah, probably,” Y/N stood up from the chair, “Well I think Selina wanted an early night so I should go. Nice meeting you.”

Jason sighed as his older brother walked away. He downed his gin and tonic before standing up and walking over to where Dick was still sitting with Tim. He sat down on a free chair and leaned his head on the table.

“So?” Dick asked cautiously as he moved his hand out from under Tim’s forehead.

“He’s my brother,” Jason said tiredly.

Dick gasped and leaned in closer. “So, what you going to do about that, little bird?”

“No idea,” Jason said as he sighed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, Jason was sitting in the library again when Tim ran inside. Jason looked up from his book and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“He’s been spotted. Cass saw him. Dick’s waiting for you at Wayne Industries,” Tim said out of breath.

Jason placed his book down and ran out of the library. He sprinted down to the Batcave and got changed into his suit. He ran to his bike and pulled out of the cave. He drove down the highways and roads and felt the wind pushing against him. It felt just like how when he was younger, and it was just him and his older brother against the world. He flew down streets and side alleys. He pulled up in front of Wayne Industries and saw Dick sitting on a brick wall nearby. Their comms crackled to life.

“Cass has him and Selina on the roof of Wayne Industries, come on,” Dick said before he ran at the building and started scaling it.

Jason followed suite. The two of them made it to the top in record time and looked around. Cass waved from where she was standing and chatting to Selina. Jason’s older brother was leaning against the staircase door with a frown on his face as he glanced around.

Jason watched him for a moment. He had red hair just like how he did when he didn’t dye it. He was wearing a leather jacket like he did. He had a mask on which resembled the Robin one but not fully. It looked more like a masquerade mask. He was wearing boots, a pair that looked like ones Jason remembered sitting by their childhood apartments door. His older brother looked just like he remembered but also nothing like the teenager he’d idolized.

There was a scar above his eye. There was a necklace around his neck with a black rock. His hair was short and clipped, unlike when they were younger,

and it sat above his shoulders. He looked so grumpy. Jason had never seen his older brother look that annoyed. He’d always been patient and kind.

“Selina, can we go? I didn’t come all this way just to stand around and chat with your boytoys kids,” Y/N said loudly, interrupting Jason’s thoughts.

Selina turned from Cass and scoffed. “Yeah, you came so far, all the way from Star City and your sad little retail job,” she said sarcastically before turning back to Cass.

Y/N rolled his eyes and finally noticed Jason and Dick. “He has more? How many of you vigilantes are there? Does he grow you in like a lab?”

“One of us was actually,” Dick said as he took a step forward, so he stood in front of Jason, once a protective big brother, always a protective big brother.

“Long story? Yeah, I’m getting used to that,” Y/N shook his head before he glanced at Jason, “What you staring at me like that for?”

Jason tilted his head slightly before taking off his helmet which caused Dick to groan.

“Secret identities, little bird,” Dick said annoyed as he slapped his forehead.

“Oh, shut up,” Jason stepped around Dick, “It’s me, Jason.”

Y/N took a step back and slammed against the wall. “You’re dead.”

Cass turned from where she was talking to Selina and rolled her eyes before resuming their conversation.

“Surprise?” Jason said with jazz hands. “I think we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Y/N nodded and took off his mask. “Yeah, I think we do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later…

Y/N, Bruce and Jason were sitting around the manor’s dining table. Bruce was leaned forwards and staring Y/N down. Jason was leaned back and smiling. He hadn’t stopped since he got Y/N back. Y/N looked like he was about to run out of the room.

“Jason, tell your creepy dad he can’t adopt me. I’m a grown ass man who isn’t going anywhere anyways,” He said as he scooted his chair slightly further away from Bruce.

“Hey, he’s still trying to figure out if he can adopt me and I’m legally dead,” Jason said as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“So am I!” His brother replied exasperatedly.

“I already adopted you, Jason,” Bruce leaned back in his chair, “Found a technicality.”

Jason turned quickly to face his dad. “Ok, you cannot just drop that in conversation, old man.”

Bruce stood up from his chair. “I’m not even 50 yet. You’ve gotta stop calling me that.”

Jason smiled and shook his head. “I’ll call you what I want, Bruce.”

Bruce smiled to himself and walked out of the room. The older Todd leaned closer to Jason and smiled.

“Your family is weird, Jase,” he said with a chuckle.

“Our family actually, big brother,” Jason said with a wide grin as he stood up from his chair. “Wanna go for a ride?”

His big brother jumped out of his chair and smiled. “I bet my bike goes faster than yours.”

The two of them ran towards the manors front door with the widest grins.

Up on the staircase, Bruce stood as he watched them with a smile. Alfred walked up behind him with a smile and tapped him on the shoulder.

“You must stop adopting all these children, Master Bruce,” he said quietly.

“He makes Jason happy, doesn’t he?” Bruce asked.

Alfred pondered for a moment before replying.

“Yes, he does, Master Bruce. That doesn’t mean Master Jason doesn’t still need his father though,” Alfred said, his voice full of care and love for the two of them.

Bruce nodded as he heard the motorbikes start outside. He then smiled and walked off to attend to his work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#x m!reader #jason todd #short fic #jason todd and his big brother #x male reader #x reader #there's no romance here just platonic fluff #fic #batfam #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batfamily #stormy writes things

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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months

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I have this idea for a post but I feel like you would do it justice.

Basically, Danny is yeeted through a dimensional portal and reincarnated as the clone son of Tim and Connor(from when Tim cloned Connor during his death). This little shit wakes up after that, when Connor has already been found, as a six year old gremlin with a need for chaos.

Que pranks!

I don’t have much more than that so I will leave this in your capable hands.

-🎃

"Master Bruce, if I have to remind you to fix your tie one more time, Gotham will be without its protecter for many months to come!" Alfred snapped - actually snapped - from where he was attempting to reorganize the entirey of the Emberald Sitting room.

Right now, he moved all the furniture and all the wall directions. He was just adding some tastefully done flower pots to make the place look inviting but also regal.

It had been six hours, and from the looks of it, Alfred had not found the balance he desperately wanted. He started over four times. His patience was all but gone.

Bruce's hands snap to his tie, scrambling to get it set just right. He moves it only slightly to the left - not making much difference - with a nervous smile. Alfred's teeth snap shut with a click, and his eyes blaze with frustrated rage as he rounds the coffee table toward the billionaire.

Bruce looks to be holding back a scream.

Dick winces, sinking into his chair lest the aged Butler turns his ire onto him. He knows why this evening has to be just right. Especially to Alfred, but gosh, he could not handle how terrifying the butler could be.

It's just for one dinner and one evening. Dick tells himself. Once Alfred can finally say he married one of us off, things will return to normal.

"Honestly! If you didn't walk around looking like an unkeept vagabond all the time, maybe there would be a Lady of the House by now!" Alfred sneered at a pale-looking Bruce.

Or maybe Timmy bringing Kon over to announce their engagement means Alfred will try to marry the rest of us off harder. Dick despairs as Bruce endures another tongue-lashing. He wants to go help, but if he moves even an inch from his seat, Alfred might realize Dick is still in the room.

He can't afford to anger the beast any further.

"And you, Master Dick!" Alfred suddenly rounds on Dick, pointing one long finger into his face, with narrowed eyes and the grim reaper at his shoulder. Oh, dear.

Thankfully, that's when the doorbell rings. At once, Alfred's face clears into an excited smile. "They're here! I'll let them in right away; you lads, gather the rest of the family. And remember, we must make a great impression! Tonight is the night we invite Mister Kon into the family!"

The butler doesn't quite skip out of the room, but the bristle walking with a chipper head turning is the close that Dick has ever seen him do.

"I'm so happy for Tim." Bruce mutters,"but I can not handle any more reminders that I haven't had a spouse."

"Tell me about it," Dick sighs, following after his father into the hallway and down to the dining hall. He can distantly hear Alfred opening the door and greeting the two. "A hour ago, he made seven passive agressive reminders that Tamaraneans propse with a dinner and a mock battle. Seven. I mean, how does he even know what Tamaraneans do when courting?"

"It's Alfred." Bruce tells him, taking a seat at the head of the table. Dick sits in the chair to his right as the oldest and First Heir- considering the reply. It makes sense.

Damian, Cass, and Duke walk in, not even a moment later. All are dressed better than any gala Bruce could have dragged them off, too. He is rather impressed that Damian is a red suit that makes even Bruce pale in comparison. Then again, he is the only one besides Alfred who has an eye for such things.

"Has he already proposed, or is he doing it at dinner table and were all supposed to act supirse?" Duke asks while sitting down. "I want to know what kind of face I should have prepared"

"The clone has asked Father for his blessing in his courtship with Timothy. He knew we would have figured out his plans when that blunder. It is no surprise." Damian huffs. Dick knows he's just upset that his big brother is going to get married and move out soon. He's adorable when he's territorial.

"I can confirm that Kon hasn't asked yet." Steph announces, strutting into the room in all her purple gown glory. Behind her, the Row sbilings wander in with matching celtic blue suits, making Dick grin. It's always nice to see people appreciate the best color. "Tim isn't the type of person to not show off his ring whenever he has a chance."

"I've always wanted to see a real-life popersoal!" Jarro gasps, flying into the room with his own little suit on. It's a nice black with green undertones just like Bruce's.

He lands in the miniature chair with a dinner dining set Alfred had special ordered for him.

It sits on top of where a regular dining set usually is, always the second chair on Bruce's left, because he is literally the favorite. Bruce denies it, but they all see the tender smile he throws the floating star.

The Wayne kids know. Jarro is too precious and hilarious, so none of them mind that he's the favorite. In fact, Dick has half the mind that he's the favorite of the majority of the family.

Jason leans over to pat Jarro's head, grinning when the little starfish swears. He adores when the kid randomly curses out of Aldred's hearing range.

"Shh, they're coming!" Cullen says from where he was lingering by the door, hoping to see Tim and Kon. He always looked up to the older boys as someone who had been forced into the closet for his own protection.

Seeing people like him helped ease the fear, and Dick feels his smile wideing when Cullen scrambles back to his seat. He's so excited he's practically in the Speed Force.

Alfred opens the door first, stepping to the side to allow the guest to enter first. Dick feels himself sit up straighter, the moment really setting in, Kon is going to propose to his younger brother.

His little Timmy is growing up-

"Wow, this place is big!" A child says, running into the room. Who the heck is he? "It's amazing, Dad!"

"Slow down. You don't want to fall." Tim laughs, rubbing the stranger's hair with a soft smile.

"It's okay, Dad. I'm strong!" The boy flexes his tiny arms. Tim laughs again as Kon crouches down to the little boy's height.

"Woah! Look at all those musceles. You're going to help me protect your dad, son?"

"Yeah Pa, I'll be the strongest super or robin ever!"

"Tim? Who might this lovely chum be?" Bruce cuts in, voice slightly strained. No one calls him out on it since they are staring wide eye at the tiny little boy who looks like an exact copy of Tim at age five.

Dick knows because he was one of the few in the Wayne's who saw Tim at that age. He's practically a clone to oh no.

Dick thinks he's having a heart attack.

Tim looks up at them before a brillient glowing smile breaks across his face. "Everyone, Kon and I have an announcement to make!"

Kon wraps an arm around his waist, sending adoring looks to man in his arms before they both hold up their left hand.

There are twin silver bands on both of their fingers. "We got married in Las Vegas, and we have a son! I like you all to meet Danny Drake-Kent! I made him when I thought Kon was dead."

"I am Danny, clone of Kon-el and Tim Drake. Fear me if you dare!" His voice squeaks. Squeaks.

Scratch that, Dick knows he's having a heart attack.

You can hear a pin drop in the silence his announcement cause, as Danny puffs up his chest and floats a few inches off the grown.

Oh, great heavens, Dick is an uncle.

"A fellow clone, son!" Jarro cheers from his little table. He slams two of his star points on the table to a beat that he speaks to. "One of us. One of us."

Danny's blue eyes land on the star fish and widen. He raises both arms into the air chanting back. "One of us. One of us. One of us!"

"It's awesome is what it is!" Steph cries, jumping up from her seat. "Hi, Danny! I'm you, Auntie Steph! I'm the cool one."

"Isn't this lovely? Master Tim not only has a husband but a child as well. Unlike some Masters." Aldred doesn't quite glare at Bruce, but he doesn't have to. The Waynes know who he means as Bruce wince.

Danny pauses in his chanting to look her up and down, staring pointily at her plum colored dress before humming. "That's a bold statement for an eggplant."

Steph gapes at him as Tim roars with laughter.

Oh, Dick is going to love this kid. He leaves his seat, trying to get to his nephew as the rest of the family attempts to do the same. Damain makes alarming threats to Kon, letting him know he would easily take him out if he detects a hint of mistreatment to his brother and new nephew.

The Waynes act like they can't hear the threat because they all have their own versions of the shovel talk prepared. They just have to get the clone alone.

It's a nice dinner.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Super Robin #Part 1 #Kon/Tim #The family were ready for a announcement #Alfred is stressing about marrying off his the Waynes #Dick's pov #Danny is Kon and Tim's son with no memories of his past life #Meeting the family #Yeah Kon and Tim elopped #Tim was in a crazy era

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starwrighter · 1 year

Text

Two out of three prompts baby!!

Another take on the Lazarus waters= corrupted ectoplasm

While not all the batfam has been revived by the Lazarus pits, they've all either been in contact with the Lazarus pits / in the general vicinity of a Lazarus pit. If we go with the idea of Lazarus water having certain qualities of ectoplasm but not all of them couldn't people exposed to Lazarus water become a form of ecto contaminated from the waters?

For this prompt let's let Lazarus water keep the qualities of ectoplasm that contaminants the people who are exposed to it. Except Lazarus water doesn't contaminate people the same way ectoplasm does.

With ectoplasm you can spot when someone is contaminated almost immediately. Whether it be physical sickness or the physical mutations it causes (i.e fangs, pointed ears, glowy eyes, anything else you hc liminals having) it's easy to detect.

However, Lazarus water is a bit more... Discreet. Not that it's trying to be discreet it just doesn't have the same umph that ectoplasm has. Most of the pits effects are a ditch effort of getting/making ectoplasm.

Lazarus water desperately wants to be ectoplasm again. It wants to be stable but it physically can't. Not by itself at least. The people who are effected by Lazarus water are more prone to violence and bursts of anger and paranoia that can hurt or kill the people around them. All those symptoms can create ectoplasm but it will never be enough they need a powerful consistent source of a specific type of ectoplasm.

If you see where I'm going with this good. All the batfam are corrupted liminals/halfas.

Most of their symptoms are dormant but it's still there running through their veins imbedded deep in their brains, some worse than others. Everything they've been doing is a way to create ectoplasm but they can't absorb it. Not only are they not making enough, the ecto they do manage to make is corrupted and just adds fuel to the flames.

Now let's add Danny to the mix. It's no secret that Danny is canonically overpowered to a ridiculous amount so Danny would logically be emitting tons of powerful ectoplasm all hours of the day. The ectoplasm Danny emits is a godsend to corrupted liminals/halfas; the blood type O- if you will.

So when Danny comes in contact with one of the corrupted liminals/halfas (it's up to you if he's on the run or just visiting) they latch on immediately. Unfortunately there is no quick cure for corruption just like how radiation lingers years after an nuclear explosion corruption takes years to purify fully and it gets much worse before it ever gets better.

As mentioned before Lazarus water wants to be ectoplasm again and it doesn't care how long it'll take to get there. Which leads to some... Odd behavior from the contaminated

Danny with his crap luck runs into each and every member of of the batfam vigilantes and civilian persona's. He ran into babs at the library while trying to figure out his schooling. He ran into Tim at a cafe. Signal woke him up when he fell asleep on a park bench and thought he was dead. He literally ran into Jason and Dick. Damian was his seatmate cause they both skipped several grades. ( The angst of the portal accident happening earlier is something I would die for) Robin saved him from a mugging.

When he inevitably got kidnapped Bruce Wayne was called. Spoiler and Red Robin saved him from said kidnaping Batman evacuated him and some dude named duke from riddlers game. He saw Red Hood and Nightwing at bat burger.

Now the meetings in themselves weren't the problem, honestly it was just a typical month with Fenton luck. The problem was when he didn't stop meeting them.

It started with how seemingly there was always a vigilante there when he needed help, it made him nervous but could be chalked up to typical vigilante behavior. Then it was Tim always being there first no matter which Cafe or coffee shop he picked even the ones in the lower district. That was understandable since it was obvious the man was a caffeine addict and high end Cafe's in Gotham typically limited the amount of caffeine they gave you while the ones in the lower districts couldn't care less if you died. It was however annoying how he would comment on how "Danny, you shouldn't be drinking coffee this young" like he had the room to talk.

Next it was the way he constantly ran into Jason at the library. Apparently he was Barbara's brother. He did however help Danny with his English homework in a way he actually understood it! For that impossible feat Danny would forever be in his debt til the day he (fully) died.

Damian was his classmate,Duke and Tim went to the same school as them so he couldn't exactly blame them for that. He actually considered Damian a friend, they talked and ate lunch together. They were also paired together for pretty much everything since nobody else wanted to be Danny's partner for some reason.

He kept running into Dick and Cass whenever he went to eat at bat burger. Dick was funny and Cass started teaching him sign language. They were also Gothamites so he had no reason to tell them not to show up at a public place.

It got to the point he was always running into one of them no matter where he went! And the meetings were getting creepier and creepier.

They started inviting him places specifically to their homes. Danny was smart enough to know not to go home with someone he'd only known for a few months. Danny actively started to avoid them when their asking became more frequent and harder to safely decline.

He finally did go to one of their houses when Damian asked if he wanted to come over and work on a project. The teachers actively encouraged him to go saying everything from " Damian has trouble making friends, he's trying really hard for you ya know?" To" the project needs to be done either way might as well pair yourself with a friend" To just telling him to go because "It'd be good for your future to have connections with people like Damian and his family,"

Eventually Danny caved on his own, he trusted Damian, he was with the dude every hour of the school day for Ancients sake. So Danny goes to the Manor and everything goes as it should until it's time for him to leave. Damian tries to get him to stay longer and when he attempts to leave on his own he is blocked by the batfam.

Now Danny is confused and kind of scared. The fam sit him down and try to have a normal conversation with him but Danny is just asking when he's going home. Bruce then reveals he has full custody of Danny and that this is his home now. Danny starts freaking out even more since this is the second billionaire who's set on force adopting him.

They try to comfort Danny but he's not having any of it he attempts to phase out but he's blocked, the entire Manor has been ghost proofed to keep him in. Danny is full on panicking right now, trying to keep his cool. The batfam are upset because they just saw Danny attempts to escape but they go back to trying to comfort him. Saying it's okay, they understand that he's not ready yet but they couldn't let him keep living the way he was (being homeless or just the Fenton parents in general) inevitably Danny freaks out with a little power use hoping to spook them into letting him go.

Obviously they have ghost proof tech and are only slightly inconvenienced by Danny outburst. They're patient after a few hours of them trying to talk with Danny he finally exhausts himself trying to phase out and the fam take him to "his" room to settle in.

Now Danny has to figure out how to escape or live with this people until whatever effecting them wears off. The butler Alfred said they didn't normally act this way and with how concerned the man looked Danny trusted him.

Tldr: all the batfam are liminals/halfas that need the ectoplasm Danny emits. They go kinda crazy and kidnap Danny cause they are corrupted. From the batfams pov it's a wholesome adoption but from Danny's pov it's a irl true crime episode

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc prompt #dpxdc #dcxdp #I'll add to this later #Signal when Danny actually wakes up after he shakes him: oh shit meow meow I thought you was dead

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bullet-prooflove · 5 months

Text

Lime: Tim Bradford x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @malindacath @anime-weeb-4-life @burningpeachpuppy @viridianphtalo @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989

It had started with a piece of lime.

You were doing tequila shots at the bar when Tim had pressed the sliver of lime into your mouth. There was something salacious about the way he did it, a look in his eye. You were both a little drunk, a little flirty. There’s always been a little something between the two of you, you keep him on his toes, and he likes that, he likes that a lot.

When he walks you home that night, he has no intention of going inside. Your hands brush occasionally when you walk side by side, your fingers capture his and he smiles because he hasn’t held a woman’s hand since before Isabel disappeared and with you it just feels right.

When you reach the doorstep, you don’t let go and neither does he. Instead, you pull him closer and before he knows it, he’s inside your bedroom, undressing you. You taste like lime and tequila; he savours it on his tongue as he kisses you like a man craving oxygen.

His first time with you is playful and teasing, it’s full of smiles and light caresses. He’s used to the heavy emotional burden that comes with sex, the fraught desperation of it but with you it’s soft, tender even. He finds himself laughing in the aftermath, his body tangled up in yours as his thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek.

“I wanna do it again.” He tells you, his lips brushing over yours.

“Do you think you can?” You ask him.

He reaches underneath the sheets, his palm wrapping around the base of his dick before he guides it back to the space between your legs. The tip of him rubs across your molten core and he drinks down the moan of pleasure that emits from your throat before he whispers.

“I think the question is can you?”

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envysparkler · 1 day

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Of all the people Bruce expects to see on his doorstep on a Sunday morning, Talia al Ghul is very, very low on the list. Frankly, he’s surprised she bothered to knock.

“Oh,” Talia says, lips pursing in disappointment as he looms in the doorway, “it’s you.” She rocks on her heels, like she’s attempting to peer around him.

“This is my house,” Bruce says, half-offended and half-bewildered. She’s not alone, there’s a child scowling up at him—they’re making League assassins smaller and smaller these days—but Bruce ignores him and focuses on the greater threat. “I’ve already told Ra’s al Ghul that Gotham is off-limits—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t about him,” Talia waves him off and saunters forward, stepping over the threshold and into the house like it belongs to her. The child follows her, only pausing to sneer at Bruce, and Bruce is left standing on his porch, thoroughly dismissed.

Talia always did have a way of getting what she wanted, and damn anything in her way. It takes a moment for Bruce to shake the old, lingering fondness and remember that a deadly assassin is inside his house.

Alfred is going to kill him.

“Wait! Talia!” He catches up to her near the kitchen, where she is surveying the cereal boxes on the counter with palpable distaste. The child looks like he’s trying to test them for poison, or possibly poison them himself, but Bruce doesn’t have time to worry about that, because she’s found—

“Uh, Bruce?” Tim’s voice cracks high, out of his chair and holding both his cereal bowl and his spoon ready to throw. “Did you forget to tell me you had company?”

“Timothy Drake,” Talia says, cold enough to create icicles. She studies him for a long moment, skipping from his Superboy pajamas to his bleary face to the overfull mug of coffee on the table. “You are one of Lady Shiva’s.”

The child’s scowl deepens.

“Yes?” Tim looks at Bruce desperately, like it’s a test and he’s looking for the answer. Bruce shrugs.

“She mentioned you were passable,” Talia sniffs. “For a boy.”

Tim looks a mixture of outraged and pleased, but Bruce is more concerned with why Talia is here, standing in his home years after she gave back his mother’s ring. Talia only reveals whatever she wants to reveal, and while she does only ever tells the truth, she lets him draw incorrect conclusions from those truths all on his own. It means Ra’s isn’t involved in whatever brought her here, but that could mean anything from the old schemer being dead to Talia being on the run, and Bruce is not nearly awake for an imminent League invasion.

“Where’s Alfred?” Talia finally finishes her survey of the kitchen and rests her cool gaze on him.

That would be the reason Bruce is barely awake. He only managed to drag himself from bed with the reminder that there was an unsupervised teenager in his house. Unfortunately, he’d got there too late to save the coffeemaker.

“What do you want with Alfred?” Tim asks, on the verge of hostile. The child draws himself up like a hissing, spitting snake, and only stays still by virtue of Talia’s hand on his shoulder. Talia, for her part, merely looks inconvenienced.

“Well, this would’ve been several times simpler had he been here,” she sighs. “I could’ve dropped off Damian for a spot of tea and gotten on with my business.”

“And what is your business?” Bruce presses.

Talia heaves another sigh—this time dramatic and put upon. It’s an act, Bruce can tell, but that doesn’t help him, not when Talia turns to him and widens her eyes, looking up through her lashes. “Unfortunately, Beloved, your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills, and I’ve finally managed to track him down here, so I really must get going before he infiltrates that sorry excuse of a prison and finishes decapitating that clown you keep alive for some unfathomable reason.”

There’s a lot packed into that statement, and Bruce is still untangling ‘your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills’ with the knowledge that Nightwing is supposed to be safely inside Bludhaven and the growing horror that Dick might’ve accidentally started a war with the League of Assassins, so it’s Tim that inhales first, staring at the child in sharp shock and then up at Talia, before finally turning towards Bruce.

“You have a kid with Talia al Ghul?!”

~#~

Talia, of course, does not bother to explain anything. She merely instructs the child—Damian—to behave before vanishing back out the front door, and Bruce’s attempt to follow her is met with a katana and a high-pitched demand for a duel. It becomes apparent that Talia’s version of behaving doesn’t match Bruce’s, because it takes several minutes and one shallowly bleeding slice before Bruce can extricate himself.

The child—his child—Damian leaves him alone then, looking disappointed in his swordsmanship skills, and turns instead to badgering Tim, who despite favoring a bo staff—“a clearly inferior weapon unsuited to anything but sloppy pulverization,” comes out crisp and clear-edged, much like Bruce himself when he was younger and his only point of reference was Alfred—is judged a suitable opponent on the basis of Lady Shiva’s reference.

Bruce is maybe a little sulky that a child—his child—has dismissed him in favor of a teenager with a pillow crease on his cheek, but he suppresses the emotion to dart to the Batcomputer so he can ask Nightwing what the hell he’s been up to.

Unfortunately, Dick’s response is both confused and irritated, which means Bruce has to waste time explaining the situation lest his eldest give him the silent treatment again, and Dick signs off with a promise to drop by, clearly excited at the prospect of a new sibling.

Bruce doesn’t warn him that this one is more apt to stab him than hug him. Dick can figure that out for himself.

But with that distraction out of the way, he’s left to ruminate on Talia’s words. She wasn’t talking about Dick, and clearly not about Tim, and not Damian, and Bruce has no other sons. The thought drives a pang through him, a loss he will always carry, and he finds himself in front of the case with Jason’s uniform, as though it can help him solve the puzzle.

Is there another child out there he doesn’t know about? He’d swear that he doesn’t have another with Talia, but he has no idea when or how Damian was conceived, so it’s the most likely explanation.

#my snippets #bruce is so confused #all part of talia's plan #meanwhile jason is off having fun! with! explosives!#(and clowns)

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vee-crytraps · 21 days

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Kiss Me More | Ch 2 | {Burning Down the House}

Chapter Summary: Coffee, tea and the third degree. It's breakfast time at Wayne Manor. AN: New to posting fics on Tumblr, feel free to read here or over on Ao3 under the username VenusCrytraps. Same bat time, same bat channel.

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}

Jason is up first, long before most of the other members have gathered for breakfast. His hair is messy, but his face is clean shaven. He had elected to ‘forget’ his shaving kit back at his apartment in the East side in protest, but Alfred always made sure that Jason’s manor quarters had spares on spares.

Not one to waste the old mans effort, Jason saunters down the wide staircase in a nice shirt and black pants, with his jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks much more put together than usual, a self satisfied smirk on his face lingering from the memory of last night’s encounter.

Bruce eyes him from over his morning paper, watching Jason load proteins and even a few pancakes onto his plate. Everyone else just seems relieved that this holds the potential for a rare, drama-free morning, and greets him with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

You’re the last to arrive, well rested and robed, a modest nightgown peaking out from underneath. You greet everyone individually, even taking the time to ruffle an annoyed Damian’s hair and press a quick appreciative kiss to Bruce’s cheek.

Sitting down next to Jason, you begin to load up your own plate.

“Have some breakfast with your coffee,” You tease, watching as Tim pours himself what is no doubt his second cup since sitting down.

Spirits seem a little less lively than usual, considering this is the first breakfast you’ve had in a long time with all of your brothers in attendance. The silence eats at you. You hate being able to hear yourself think. And chew.

“Soooo,” You start, sliding your gaze across the faces of your seated family members. “How was patrol?”

“No Bat talk at the table,” Bruce reminds you. He doesn’t even bother to look up to scold you, and that kind of ticks you off. He turns the page. “Eat your breakfast.”

“Sir, yes sir,” You lift your fork in a mock solute, and your dad barely manages to grunt in acknowledgement. He’s clearly tired. You suspect he hasn’t slept much.

In comparison to usual, anyway.

Damian, on the other hand, is as eager as you are to fill the grating silence. Which would make you suspicious if you weren’t so desperate for some conversation. “What else even is there for us to talk about?” He questions, but it goes unanswered.

“I got somethin’.” Jason, ever eager to get you back for your stunt last night, decides it’s a good time to put the fear of god into you. “Noticed you were up late last night. Don’t know what business you had getting dolled up at seven PM.”

It’s difficult to glare and chew at the same time, you realize. Choking, you just barely keep yourself from stomping on his toes. Retaliation is an admission of guilt, you remind yourself, forcing your shoulders to relax as you took a long, slow sip of your orange juice. Maybe if you don’t dignify it with a response, it’ll blow over.

Damian is the first to catch on. He stops eating and looks up at you.

“You stayed up for a date?” Damian asks.

You choke again. It’s more embarrassing this time. Your father clears his throat, but seems to still be reading.

“What? No way.” Just roll your eyes. Lean back in your chair. Look relaxed.

If anything that brings more attention your way. It was not to your advantage that every other person at this table were seasoned detectives.

“This is really embarrassing for you.” Tim informs you, at the bottom of that second cup of Café Bustelo. Maybe his next cup will stop his heart. That would totally draw attention away from you.

“Since when did you guys start being so nosy,” You tease, but man, the tension in your shoulders gets worse. Your fork cuts your toast into the crude shape of a throwing star, and you chuck it at Damian limply. It doesn’t even make it across the table.

“Since you started acting suspicious,” Damian says with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. His eyes flash towards you, and leans forward to rest his elbows on his table. “Who was he?”

Bruce turns a page. “Damian.”

"Tt," Huffing, Damian loads your shitty bread weapon onto his fork and flings it back at you, his face unchanged. “It was obvious a guy. So who was it?”

You gaze slips to Bruce, hoping he’ll interject again. He doesn’t.

Okay, you think to yourself. Any more denial and it’ll start to be a little too stupid and obvious. If you gave them an inch, maybe you won’t have to reveal that Jason lent you nine.

“Oh, you know,” A laugh escapes you, and you pour yourself some of Tim’s jet fuel. “I was just…socializing. You should try it sometime.”

That’s good. A half-truth, mixed in with a little good natured sibling teasing. Maybe there was hope for you after all.

“With who?” Tim pipes up again, his curiosity clearly piqued. “Anyone we know?”

“Come on, whose the mystery guy? Can we meet him?” Dick adds, shifting forward.

“Yeah, Baby Bat,” Jason bears a wicked grin. He’s got his revenge and more, and you wonder if he trusts you to navigate this situation without getting the two of you caught, or if he just doesn’t care. “We just want to make sure he’s worth your time.”

He’s kind of getting off on this. Seeing you, sitting next to him in your little rich girl pajamas, your dad at the head of the table none the wiser. There was no way he would have believed you were a ball of sexual frustration under those frills had he not seen it with his own eyes last night.

“What’s with the third degree? I didn’t realize I was on trial.” You toss your hands up in the air in mock defeat. And real defeat, now that you think about it.

This ship was sinking fast. Time for a diversion tactic. “What about you, Tim? Any hot dates recently?”

Tim grins widely, taking in pleasure in seeing you crack. They must be on to something. Even you couldn’t pretend to be this bad at lying. “I can neither confirm or deny.” He burns the new dialogue tree to the ground before you can turn anyone else’s attention away from this brutal line of questioning.

Damian huffs once more, lacing his fingers together. The look on his perfect, beautiful face would otherwise suggest that he’s bored, but you know it’s far from true when you meet his gaze. He’s got that investigator stare, and if there was somehow any doubt in your mind that he was Bruce’s blood, it was quickly blitzed. “You should just tell us. You know we will find out.”

“Yeah, BB. It’s in your best interest.” Leaning back in his chair, Jason tosses an arm over the back of yours, sipping his orange juice with wicked amusement. This could not have been less in your best interest. His too, actually.

“Oh, whaaat?” You quickly stand, your chair shooting backwards and nearly causing Jason to drop his glass. It would have served him right, but every once in a while gravity favored him despite his size.

“You know what? I totally hear my phone ringing. I’m gonna go take care of that, but like, I’m so happy to do this another time.” You’ll pencil them in for after the apocalypse. “See you at the gala!” You head upstairs, genuinely not planning to emerge from the safety of your room until it was time to go.

You think you’re in the clear until you hear Damian’s chair push back, and then you start taking the steps two at a time. Damian warms to the thrill of a physical chase, watching you bound up the stairs like the prey animal you are.

It’s cute, really. That you think a pair of solid oak doors would stop him from dragging you for information. There wasn’t a thing in this house he didn’t know, and you were soon going to be made aware of that.

#v.fic #batfam x reader #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you

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