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#it won’t bring Jason back
ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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Fae dick will break the joker after Ethiopia.
Heck yeah.
Fae? Or any other creature? They’re vindictive. Vindictive to a fault. And loyal. They don’t give away their love easily. Yeah, they can feel fond of things. Even like them. But love? Familial or otherwise? That’s sacred to them. More so to Dick, who already had to suffer losing his family once. So this? Yeah, he’s not having it.
But oh, if you think Joker’s just gonna get killed off then you’re so, so wrong. There are so many other ways, better ways, to make a human suffer. Worse things than death. Worse things than any kind of torture humans could come up with.
Dick makes Joker pay. Every second Jason had to spend with that madman is amplified tenfold, stretched into eternity. Dick traps him in a nightmare he will never wake up from. By the time he’s done with Joker, there won’t be an ounce of that monster left inside that sick little brain. There won’t be anything left of the joker.
By the time Dick allows the creatures to eat Joker alive, the man’s been begging for death for what translate to several centuries to the human mind.
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audhd-nightwing · 2 years
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when jason dies, he is told he has three choices
1. move on to Elysium
2. become a spectre in the mortal realm
3. be granted immortality / become a minor god
and because jason knows he died too soon, feels it in his bones, he chooses the third option (so he can help the heroes that suffer like he did)
he becomes the god of self-sacrifice/death in battle and, on a lighter note, birds. he comforts the heroes that are killed in combat or that sacrifice themselves for the good of others and leads them to Elysium
he can visit the mortal realm and spends most of his time there. he also keeps in contact with leo piper hazel frank etc. through messenger birds. additionally, he can shapeshift into any species of bird / just have wings if he feels like it
often when he picks up heroes from battles he appears with white wings, so the mist ends up basically showing mortals an “angel” lmao
he has an avian companion, a robin named damian (a dc reference? from me? neverrr)
he keeps the other gods in line and helps meditate godly disputes over stupid shit so there’s no collateral damage
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authorityproblems · 12 days
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the temptation… to block the jason todd tag… getting stronger every day
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shewhowillrise · 3 months
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Jason who’s been gushing about Jazz: oh and her younger brother killed the entire justice league in an alternate timeline. Don’t worry he fixed it. I wanna invite him over for dinner because I think him and Tim would nerd out together. But he’s embarrassed and think you’ll hate him but technically he hasn’t killed anyone in this timeline so hey, already better start than me! He didn’t even come back from the dead insane either!
Bruce: excuse me what
Jason: so just can you be a little less broody, I’m hoping if you like him, then it’ll give me some brownie points for trying to kill him when we first met because he was in my haunt
Bruce: wait hold-
Jason: and now whenever I’m hanging out with Jazz he always glares at me when I take her out and bring her back home and hey, if he starts dating Timbers then he won’t be there to glare at me all the time
Bruce: may I speak-
Jason: and I like I just really want him to like me because I want to do this the, well not right, but the more traditional way and ask permission for Jazz’s hand in the eternal realms of forever but I have a feeling if I ask him now he’d have me beheaded by the court
Bruce: Jason this is the first time I’ve seen you in a month calm-
Jason: and I just would rather not be a beheaded entity. I can’t be the red hood without a head to put the hood onto!
Bruce grabbing his shoulders: JASON!
Jason:…
Bruce: I love you son but what the fuck
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mostly-imagines · 11 days
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Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??
meet the family
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason has a girlfriend???
warnings: none
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The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.
Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.
It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.
“There’s a girl here!”
Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.
Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.
Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”
“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.
“Yeah.”
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
Cassandra nods fervently.
“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”
“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.
Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”
“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.
“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.
Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.
Knock knock knock knock knock…
Knock knock.
It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.
Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”
He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”
Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.
“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”
“No.”
Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”
Jason shuts the door.
A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.
“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.
“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.
And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.
Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.
“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”
His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”
Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”
He stares at her.
“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.
“Stephanie.”
“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”
“Bye.” He closes the door.
He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.
Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.
Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.
Jason shuts the door in his face.
Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.
It’s Cass.
She stares at him.
He stares at her.
“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.
Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”
She smiles and turns back down the hall.
Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.
“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.
“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”
He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”
“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”
“I’m starting to regret it now.”
“Come on. Please?” You plead.
He picks his head up to look at you.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.
“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.
He sighs.
Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.
You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.
“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”
“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”
Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.
You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.
Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.
Jason takes a deep breath like he’s stealing himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”
“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.
There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.
“Hold on—”
“—my god, she’s so pretty!”
“Oh wow—”
“Wait, what?”
”—You’re real?”
“—didn’t place that bet.”
Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”
“I’m—”
But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.
“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.
“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.
Cass waves and signs something to you.
“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.
Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.
“Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—” Stephanie asks.
Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”
Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”
“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.
You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.
Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”
“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.
“No wait!”
You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.
You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”
Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”
You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”
He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.
You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”
“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”
He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.
He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.
The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.
You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.
“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.
You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.
He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.
As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his right is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.
“Bruce.”
Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.
“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”
Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.
Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.
Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.
“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.
He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”
Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.
“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.
He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.
“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.
You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”
He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.
“Jason.”
Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.
“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.
“Yes.”
He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”
Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”
Bruce nods. “Good.”
He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.
Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.
He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…
Oh god, you went back to the living room.
As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.
“—long have you been together, anyways?”
“Well—”
Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”
“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.
Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”
Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”
A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.
“What?”
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chikaras-garden · 6 months
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Batboys as things that go bump in the night
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So what if he’s not human?
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Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x fem!reader
Contains: Monsterfucking. Dubcon. Unprotected piv sex in Dick’s, Jason’s, and Damian’s. Blood in Bruce’s. Somnophilia and light breeding kink in Dick’s. Knotting in Jason’s. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Tim’s. Degradation in Damian’s.
Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Happy Halloweekend angels!
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BRUCE WAYNE 🦇
A loner. A constant shadow over Gotham. A collector of all things macabre. And now, he has his sights set on you. You’re a pretty thing, dressed in all black at a late-autumn gala, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze on you even when your back is turned.
So it’s no surprise that, when you tempt fate by rounding a corner into a deserted hallway, you are not alone.
Stepping out of the shadows, Bruce’s hand clamps around one side of your throat, leaving just one side—the side of your pulse—exposed for his lips. He kisses you there far more than he kisses your lips, nibbling and suckling the soft flesh over your pulse. Your heart beats faster and faster as your knees go weak, but his arm tightens around you.
“I have you, darling,” he husks. His skin is cold against yours, but perhaps that’s because the all-consuming presence of a man like this makes your blood run hot.
His other hand comes up to cup your flushed cheek, thumb dragging along the shape of your face as if he’s trying to memorize you.
“So warm. Such soft skin,” he murmurs, bending his head low and kissing your neck. “Such a beautiful creature.”
Something twists in your stomach when he says that—creature. An instinct tells you to run, but you quickly realize that the look in his eyes has you completely enthralled. He’s watching you with purpose, always keeping your eyes locked as if looking away from you will break the spell he has you under.
“I have to taste you,” he whispers, voice raw with a strain whose source you cannot place. He inhales deeply and lets out a low, feral noise before you feel a twinned shock of pain that makes you gasp: blood rushes to your neck and spills from your broken skin onto his waiting tongue, which greedily laps at the sweet nectar he just stole.
DICK GRAYSON 🦇
You never remember what happened the morning after your nights with your blue-eyed visitor in black, but you can’t stop the way your body aches for the mysterious stranger. At first, you thought he was a dream, but even you know that your unconscious can’t conjure up something as beautiful as him.
He wakes you by laying on top of you, pushing his hot-as-Hell flesh against yours. You didn’t go to sleep naked, but you’re naked now; your clothes are gone, but you’re covered with him, his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, one of his hands painfully squeezing the other, and his red-tipped cock already bullying its way into your slick folds. 
It hurts, but the ache is so dizzying that you can’t bring yourself to care, especially when you’re aware that you won’t remember this by morning anyway. You feel as if you’re being burned alive and made new in just the way he wants you. And that feels good, doesn’t it? Why else would you have woken up with your pussy soaking wet? 
He picks his head up just enough to watch you watch him while his tongue traces the outer edge of your areola and flicks your nipple in slow strokes, teasing it into hardness with just the tip of his tongue. He’s kneeling between your legs, and his free hand slides down to gently stroke your belly—which is when you notice that his fingers, like his cock, are tipped with blood-red skin.
Then comes his dark murmur, “Let me fill you, pretty thing. Let me give you a little gift to help you remember me.”
Your breath catches and, once again, he latches on—teeth first, this time.
At the same time, he thrusts into you, cock heavy and fire-hot, searing your skin and all but tearing you open while you keen and grasp at him, fingernails scraping down his back. His warmth is inescapable as he thrusts into you with inhuman force.
And you swear that, when he comes, filling you with his infernal seed, you catch a glimpse of a ruby glimmer in his once-blue eyes.
JASON TODD 🦇
Honestly, you handled finding out that your boyfriend is a werewolf remarkably well. But because you’re a human, he has one rule: no knotting. That is, until an October full moon has him more feral than usual, trapped in a rut that he’s powerless to fight against.
Jason has you hiked up against his chest, barely balanced on his thick thighs with your panties shoved aside. One finger is pressed firmly against your clit, the claws that come with his half-transformed state lightly grazing your sensitive skin. He’s already buried inside of you, thrusting so shallowly that he may as well be humping your innermost walls.
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder. His skin rages with heat while his muscles tremble, lips mouthing along any inch of your skin that he can reach. Head heavy on your shoulder, he rasps out broken sentences, each cut off by animalistic whimpers and whines. “God, fuck— I can’t— I shouldn’t— You’re—”
You have one hand tangled in his hair, thumbing the soft black-and-white fur that crawls up along his hybrid ears. His cock, impossibly thick already, stretches you even more open than you already were, and you throw your head back to let out a moan of mixed pleasure-pain.
“Fuck,” he whispers, because he feels it too. “Baby, I’m— It’s—”
“Let it,” you gasp, feeling lightheaded with the pain of Jason filling you so completely, cockhead swelling so full that he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. “Please, please, Jason, I need it.”
All that gets you is another guttural groan from him, a sound as close to a howl as he can make without being fully transformed. Still swelling, his cock is thick, heavy, hot—pulsing inside of you, begging to stay there, to fill you, to mark and mate with you. You can’t imagine what it must look like, but you know that the feeling is divine: this oneness, this wholeness, is something you’ve never felt before. It’s almost enough to dull how much your pussy aches.
“Jason,” you moan, tears filling your eyes.
“I know,” he soothes, trying to stay sturdy and stable for you even though his whole body is trembling. “Fuck, it— Baby, you feel so good. Such a good fucking girl, letting me mate with you. Gonna make you feel amazing, I promise.”
TIM DRAKE 🦇
“Stay still,” Tim teases, clawed fingers clamping down on your hip. “Or no rewards.”
Your back is pressed against the chilly, damp wall of the bat cave, and your clothes are shreds around your feet. You know this is all your fault, that you should have avoided the man who has only made his obsession with you painfully clear. As soon as the half-dragon spotted you—his treasure, his paramour, his little human love—he pounced. 
Half changed with pewter green scales climbing up his skin and pupils narrowed into reptilian slits, Tim wastes no time in turning your clothes into ribbons of fabric in effort to get to you.
And then he drops to his knees, burying his face in between your legs.
The forked tongue laves up and down the folds of your pussy, skirting along the outside of your sopping hole until you’re shuddering, clinging to him. His hand digs in harder, talons piercing the soft skin of your ass, scaly palm forcing your cunt against his mouth until you feel the sting of sharpened teeth against your mound.
Even though his teeth sting your pulsing flesh, even though his licks are too fast to be completely pleasurable, you feel yourself grow slick around his tongue. Your head falls back against the wall and you begin to pant, heart beating so fast that you start to feel faint, teetering on the edge of consciousness.
His forked tongue reaches impossibly deep within you. The fleshy muscle feels wrong but also so good, skin fading from soft pink to greenish-black, its texture rough and bumpy, stimulating you from more directions than you have ever felt at once. 
He licks all the way to your cervix—a thing no mere mortal man could ever do to you—greedily biting, sucking, and growling against your throbbing, abused pussy until finally you come with a pitiful, worn-out scream.
You feel his ice-cold lips pull into a smile as he breathes, “Good human. Now give me another—or three more. Maybe five.”
DAMIAN WAYNE 🦇
You go to the guardian of an ancient library for help but, poor you, the sphinx’s riddles prove too challenging for you. In accordance with the legends, you expect to be smited on the spot, or at least banished, but instead—the sphinx shifts to his human form and decides that you are his.
How lucky it is that Damian decides he likes you enough to keep you captive instead of simply killing you as punishment. How lucky it is that he is clever enough to find a use for your frail human form. How lucky it is that he doesn’t find mating with you as repulsive as he originally thought.
“At least work for it,” he drawls, stifling a yawn while he leans back on the emerald-green settee. His arms are spread, powerful shoulders and biceps making him look even bigger than he already is. No, he never touches you—that would be demeaning—but he does offer you the privilege of riding his cock until you make yourself come.
You close your eyes and drive your hips forward and down, trying to strike the spot inside you that only he can reach. No sooner than your eyes flutter closed, though, he snaps his fingers in front of you.
“Look at me, pet.” His head rests on the back of the chair, lips parted with every breath that makes his chest slowly rise and fall. His face looks warm and you wonder what it might feel like to kiss those plush lips—but you’re also coherent enough to realize that he’s measuring his breaths on purpose.
You’re getting to him. You think. You hope. Maybe if you please him, he’ll let you go. 
He shifts his hips up and you cry out, nearly losing your balance on his powerful thighs, but a warm hand suddenly cups your ass to drag you back into place. He leans forward, stomach flexing, and murmurs in your ear, “Can’t even do this without help, can you? Useless little human.”
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eldritchdreamss · 2 months
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Dick is good at hugs but I just know that Jason is all soft muscle until he flexes, which means he gives the best hugs. One of the Crime Alley kids finds out about this when they hug him after he saves them from being mugged and word gets around to the other kids about it. The first few times he’s asked for a hug when he checks on some of the kids shelters he’s a little surprised but obliges anyway, now when he’s out on patrol and one of the street kids sees him and asks he doesn’t hesitate. He knows there could be a million reasons why they’re asking, and if it helps them, then who is he to say no?
One night it happens while he was on patrol with Dick, they had started taking a break together semi-regularly, Jason still wasn’t at the manor often because he still felt awkward around the family, and Dick is just happy to spend as much time with his brother as he can get. So imagine Dick’s surprise, when they’re waiting for their food at a food truck, one of the kids comes up and asks Jason for a hug and he gives one without a second thought. Dick is just standing there like “????”, thinking there’s no way he saw what he just saw. That is until the kid leaves after and Jason immediately turns to him and threatens that if he tells anyone what he just saw he’ll never talk to him or the family again. Dick, of course, says he won’t tell anyone. And he doesn’t. He’s just glad his brother has people there for him.
For a few weeks Jason is ready for someone to ask or start teasing him about giving out hugs while on patrol when they address him, but no one even comes close to mentioning it. The next time he’s on break with Dick he asks why he hasn’t told anyone when he very easily could have.
“You asked me not too Littlewing.” he said, as if that answer meant anything at all. Dick must have seen his confusion because he spoke again. “You care about them Jason, it’s clear they care about you too. Of course I wish you’d open up to the family a little more, but I’m not going to tell them something you clearly didn’t even want me seeing. Knowing our family they’d push for an answer as to why or something and they’d only end up pushing you away instead of letting you open up on your own time.” he explained. Jason stared at him, that was the last answer he was expecting to hear.
After a few moments of finishing their food in silence they got up from the edge of the roof they were sitting on and threw their trash away. Jason watched as Dick started to the edge of the roof before finishing patrol, stopping at the edge to face Jason to say something. Jason wasn’t listening, one second he was watching his brother leave the next he was hugging him. His face flushed with embarrassment but he couldn’t bring himself to let go. “Thank you..” he murmured, vaguely aware of Dick’s arms hovering around him almost hesitantly for a moment before squeezing him back. They stayed like that for a few moments before they had to let go to finish their patrols. If Dick heads back to the cave more chipper than he usually is after patrol then that’s nobody’s business but his own that he just got a hug from his little brother, something they hadn’t done since even before he had died.
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dclovesdanny · 3 months
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Something I will never get enough of is Danny killing the Joker. However, something I want to see more of, is Danny killing the Joker for Ellie.
Like, Jason and Danny are neighbors and they’ve been friends for a little while. Jason knows Danny has the 20 something year old mechanic with a six-year-old daughter who is an absolute gremlin. He really likes them both, and he might have a little crush on his neighbor.
Then when they are out at the park or something, the Joker attacks. The joker decides to grab a hostage and who does he grab, but this six year old girl who only seems to have one person who knows her, a scrawny 20 something person. She has dark hair and blue eyes and only person who seems to care about her is her older brother/possible father? Perfect bait for Batman.
He wasn’t counting on Danny being able to fight god for his family. He didn’t realize that Danny will do anything to protect his family, that, in his literal core, he is sworn to protect his people, no matter the cost. the joker did not realize that Danny loves Ellie enough to not only die (again) for her, but to kill for her.
The Joker doesn’t die to Batman, or in some big battle. The Joker dies to a man no one knew because the Joker kidnapped his daughter. The joker dies, because he forgot that not everyone has the same hangups about killing that Batman does. The Joker dies because he pushed a parent too far.
Jason is there during all of this. I think he’s either there as red hood, watching through the cameras, or there is Jason. All three of these have many different pros for various forms of angst.
If Jason is there as red hood, he’s probably with some of the batfamily, and they are holding him back from killing the Joker. They’re trying to figure out how to make it so that the joker won’t kill this little girl, and Jason is going feral because that is his kid. That is the little gremlin who lives next-door, who knocks on his door and treats him like a jungle gym. That’s his kid. When he sees Danny jump at the Joker, he’s going to have a straight up panic attack and he’s gonna get the guns ready, but he doesn’t need to.
If he’s there as Jason, I think the joker would also take him hostage. Jason Wayne, the brat who would get him a lot of money. Especially if the Joker knows that this was the second Robin, because this just means he can get two killed in one swoop. And Jason is trying to protect Ellie with everything in him, cursing himself for not bringing a gun with him and praying that this time Bruce isn’t too late. And he can see the pain in Danny’s eyes and he is so scared to lose this family he has. He praised to a God he doesn’t believe in this time, history won’t repeat itself.
I feel like it would be most painful, if he’s watching through cameras. He’s probably injured or in the middle of doing something for his civilian life . Maybe he’s even out of town, but turned the camera on to look out for the joker, and had a heart attack when he saw the little girl next-door being held by the Joker. This man is trying so hard to get there, breaking every traffic law, praying that he won’t be too late that this won’t be the same as his death. His trauma is excruciating, because this feels like when he was waiting for Bruce and Bruce not getting there until it was too late.
No matter which of these scenarios, he needs to see Danny snap and kill the joker. Maybe, in the camera scenario, it’s just this he arrives that he sees it. Either way, he needs to see the moment, the Joker dies at the head of a single father, and the parallel of Bruce and him and Danny and Ellie need to be very apparent. Because this time the dad wasn’t afraid to kill.
This is the moment I feel, Jason would fully acknowledge that he would do anything for these people. That these two neighbors of his have become his family. The moment he sees the two of them holding each other, and the jokers body at their feet, I guarantee you this man is fighting tooth and nail not to go over his red hood exposed them. if he’s Jason, he can run into hug them no problem, but if he’s red hood, he’s not going to be able to do that.
This man will fight with Batman if he even that should get in trouble for killing the Joker. He will threaten to never ever speak to Bruce ever again, will be ready to bribe the police into letting Danny go, we will race every camera footage out there of the event, will do anything for this family.
Later that day, he won’t have nightmares of the Joker for the first time in a while. He will be able to look at his family and rest easy, knowing that there’s no way that Joker can take them from him.
2K notes · View notes
sp0o0kylights · 7 months
Text
Bullshit.
The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.
He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…
Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.
“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.
“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”
Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.
"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.
She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.
"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.
They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.
Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.
"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)
She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."
It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”
“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”
She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”
"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."
Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.
Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.
If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.
"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"
She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."
Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.
Or a different person entirely.
"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."
A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.
‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.
"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”
Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.
“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."
Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"
"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”
A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.
Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”
"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.
"I think so."
Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"
Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.
"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.
Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.
"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.
The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.
"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.
"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.
Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.
"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.
"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.
Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.
"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.
It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.
Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.
"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”
Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"
"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.
“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”
“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”
“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.
"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,
“It's not "
“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”
“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”
Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."
"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.
The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.
"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.
Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.
Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.
"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.
"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."
'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.
"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."
"You would cheer for me too?"
"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.
"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."
Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.
He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.
"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"
"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."
She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his
Munson, the ass, notices.
“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.
Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.
"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.
"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.
"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.
They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.
"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.
His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.
"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.
It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.
"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.
Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.
"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.
Steve gives him jazz hands in return.
"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.
It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.
It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)
"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."
Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."
It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.
"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.
Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.
Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.
"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.
"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."
He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.
Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.
She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"
"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.
Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.
That she wants to talk.
Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.
It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.
He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.
"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.
In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.
The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--
Except.
Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.
One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.
It's fine.
He's fine.
Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--
"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."
Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.
"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.
Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.
"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.
That too sharp smile is all for Steve.
He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.
He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.
He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.
Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.
Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.
'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.
Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.
Steve plants his feet anyway.
"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.
Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.
"You're full of shit."
Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.
Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.
It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.
Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'
Steve just glares him down.
The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.
"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.
"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.
The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.
Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.
"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"
Steve just scoffs.
"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"
Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.
"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.
"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.
She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."
Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"
It doesn't sound loving.
It sounds like a threat.
He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.
Eddie beats him there.
The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.
"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"
Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.
"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."
Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.
It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.
"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.
He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.
"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.
The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.
"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"
He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.
Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.
Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.
He refuses to put a name to it.
"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.
"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.
Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."
"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."
Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.
Prior to last year, he'd have been right.
Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.
Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.
Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.
"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.
"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.
Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.
"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.
Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.
"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.
"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.
"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.
Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.
Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.
The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.
Part Two
2K notes · View notes
fishfission-dc · 9 months
Text
Batfamily Powerpoint Night! (Part 10: Alfred)
<<Part 9: Barbara 
[Masterlist]
Alfred: Actually, I have prepared something I would like you all to see.
Bruce: Oh lord...
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[collective sigh]
Alfred: I have noticed that many of you are electing not to return used dishes to their proper location to be washed. 
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Barbara: Oooh... that one’s on me, sorry Alfred.
Alfred: Miss Gordon, I trust you not to spill anything on the computer console, but I still think it best not to have open beverages in the presence of... other company.
Dick: Is he talking about-
Tim: Yeah he’s talking about us.
Bruce: Hn.
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Steph: Only Bruce does this, Alfred, I promise.
Alfred: I am well aware, Miss Brown. 
Bruce: ...sorry.
Duke: How do you not spill anything using mugs in the Batmobile?
Cass: (signing) Impressive.
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Jason: Okay, this one has to be Dick.
Dick: ...That’s probably me.
Tim: A teacup? A teacup and its saucer??
Dick: I was already drinking it at the time-
Alfred: Just bring it back next time.
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Steph: HA
Damian: ...They like the-
Alfred: I highly doubt the dogs have a preference of plates.
Damian: ...understood.
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Jason: WHICH ONE OF YOU-
Tim: STEPH. STEPH THAT IS YOUR BELT.
Steph: I CAN EXPLAIN
Barbara: Steph why is a mug in your-
Steph: I BRING THE MUGS HOME AND I PUT THEM IN MY BELT TO REMEMBER TO BRING THEM BACK TO ALFRED BUT THEN I FORGET
Duke: How many mugs are in your belt right now? 
Steph: ...
Dick: Steph.
Steph: A couple...
Alfred: Three. I checked twenty minutes ago.
Steph: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Tim: ...Okay-
Dick: Tim. How on Earth-
Steph: HOW IS THIS ANY WORSE THAN ME KEEPING MUGS IN MY BELT
Tim: Sometimes I save time by eating in the shower!
Jason: That is like... a family sized tupperware container.
Damian: Drake, this is no longer efficiency, it is insanity. 
Tim: ...Sorry Alfred.
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Bruce: ...how-
Barbara: Cass... Cass this has to be you.
Cass: (signing) ...Sorry.
Steph: Honestly I’m not surprised by this.
Duke: Are we not concerned that Alfred’s been repeatedly climbing into the rafters to collect these dishes?
Alfred: Oh it’s not the furthest length I’ve gone for you all...
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Bruce: I may have left a serving dish at the Kents’ apartment in Metropolis, I apologize.
Tim: I don’t think I left anything in San Francisco... or Nanda Parbat.
Dick: TAMARAN?! I’m probably responsible for New York and Bludhaven, but that one was NOT me.
Jason: Ooooh, yeah... uh... that was probably me...
Steph: You left a tupperware container on Tamaran?!
Jason: And maybe... other places... I keep forgetting to bring them home.
Damian: How many of these locations are you responsible for, Todd?
Jason: Uh... definitely Star City and Tamaran... and Miami... Paris... and Washington, Hong Kong... maybe also Nanda Parbat. Oh, and I definitely left a cup in San Francisco...
Barbara: Oh my god.
Jason: ...Sorry Alf. Won’t happen again.
Alfred: I’m glad you appreciate the leftovers, Master Jason, but yes, please return the dishware.
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Duke: Oh that’s definitely my bad... Sorry Alfred.
Alfred: It’s alright, my dear boy, you didn’t know.
Bruce: ...how long has that been the system?
Dick: Probably not long... I definitely didn’t do that as a kid...
Jason: Definitely changed while I was dead...
Alfred: That has been the system for 42 years, I would appreciate if all of you started adhering to it.
[a chorus of “Sorry, Alfred” as they retrieve their dishes, thus ending Powerpoint Night. The end.]
<<Part 9: Barbara
[Masterlist]
3K notes · View notes
chaotic-birds · 8 months
Text
be with you || j.pt
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Jason wakes up in the middle of the night and you're not there.
🌙 Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader (gn)
🌙 Genres/AUs: Fluff, (emotional) hurt/comfort, established relationship
🌙 Warning(s): mention of kidnapping
🌙 Word Count: 1.1k
🌙 Author's Note: I have so many Jason Todd fic ideas 😵‍💫 For now, I decided to just write this. I normally don't post such short fics, but I want to get used to doing so. Sometimes I just wanna write without thinking of intensive plots 😪 That being said, please enjoy this little fluff piece! Sometimes, we just need some fluff in our lives. Also, this is my first Jason fic after a few years so… 😬 (im a lil nervous)
masterlist
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When Jason turns to his other side to pull you against him, his eyes fly open.
Your side of the bed is empty.
And cold.
Which means it’s been a while since you left.
You left.
Did you leave or did someone take you?
Jason’s distressed eyes scan the bedroom. There’s no sign of a struggle. Plus, he would at least hope he’d wake up to the commotion if something like that happened.
But if you didn’t get kidnapped, where did you go?
Worry fills his chest and his heart pumps faster at the influx of questions in his head.
All the doubt about whether he’s making you happy clouds his mind. Had he said something yesterday that had upset you? Are you not happy with him anymore? Did someone better come into your life?
Jason groans and rakes his hands through his hair, tugging roughly at the ends to feel something other than uneasiness.
His hands fall to his sides when he sees your belongings at your vanity.
That’s a good sign, right? Maybe you didn’t leave him after all.
Jason slides off the bed and heads out of the bedroom.
“Babe?” he calls.
There’s no answer.
He wanders to the bathroom. Empty.
He goes to the living room. Empty.
Finally, he goes to your home office.
You’re sat in your chair with your headset on, fingers clacking against the keyboard.
The heavyweight he had put on his shoulders instantly lifted. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
He takes three large steps before he encloses his arms around you from behind.
You yelp, jumping and hitting your head against his jaw.
He grunts at having bit the inside of his cheek in the process.
Although your arms are glued to your sides, you tilt your head and lift a hand as high as it can go to remove your headset.
“Jay?” you question. “Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.”
He shakes his head and nuzzles his face against your neck more.
You lax in his arms, rubbing along his forearms and resting your head on his shoulder.
“Why are you awake then?” you wonder after a while.
“You weren’t in bed,” he mumbles.
“Sorry,” you murmur. “I forgot I had to finish something for work.”
“But it’s half past three. Can’t it wait?”
“Sadly, no,” you sigh.
Carefully, you try to pull apart his arms to free yourself. Jason refuses to let you do so.
“Baby,” you laugh softly when he holds you tighter. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be done in a bit.”
“No,” he grumbles.
Knowing he won’t give up, at least not easily, you nod. “Alright then. Should I bring in another chair for you?”
Jason shakes his head and finally lets go. He slides your chair back slightly and sinks to the floor in front of you.
Your legs part when he makes a home between them, wrapping his arms around your hips and resting his head on top of your thigh.
“Comfy?” you ask with a small smile, slightly amused.
He simply hums and closes his eyes.
Your gaze lingers on him before you focus on your work once more. You hurry more now, wanting to get back to bed with Jason.
A few minutes have passed when Jason speaks again.
“I-I thought you left me,” he whispers.
Your hands pause in their movement.
“Oh Jace,” you begin gently and place a hand against his cheek.
His eyes flutter open at your touch. His blue eyes are filled with worry and fear.
“I would never leave you.”
His eyes move between yours, trying to find a reason not to believe you. There’s that rotten side of him that tells him he doesn’t deserve to have company. That it’s inevitable for him to be alone.
“Unless you want me to,” you add.
He shakes his head aggressively. “Don’t say that.”
You smile softly at him. “Then it’s a done deal. You’re mine until the end of time.”
Jason cracks a small smile at your words, lifting his head.
“I like the sound of that,” he says.
Your grin grows. “I do too.”
Jason leans up, and you meet him halfway for a tender kiss.
“I’ve still got more to do. You want to go to bed now?” you ask once you pull away.
“Nope, I’m staying,” he replies, resting his head back on your leg.
His tone sounds lighter now, making your heart warm. Although you love all sides of Jason, this may be your favorite one.
Happy. Soft. Vulnerable.
After forty more minutes, you finally finish.
Jason has fallen asleep and has filled the room with his light snores. Some of his hair lays on his face, some of it slightly ruffled from sleeping in the bed earlier.
Cute.
You bring a hand to his hair, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You scratch at his scalp gently to wake him.
His eyes open, drooping and groggily.
“I’m done, let’s go to bed now,” you say.
He nods and slowly stands up from the floor. He sways a little on tired legs.
“Come on, sleepy head,” you tease lightly and grab his hand.
He lets you guide him back to the bedroom. You sit him down on the edge then gesture in the direction of the bathroom.
“I need to pee; you gonna come with me or will you stay here?” you question.
Jason frowns but nods. “If you take longer than five minutes, I’m coming in.”
You laugh and kiss the crown of his head. “If you say so.”
You know he’s being honest so you rush. Luckily, you make it in time for him not to come get you.
Jason hasn’t moved from when you left. He’s staring at the doorway, feet thumping rhythmically against the floor.
“You’re so needy tonight,” you observe and climb into bed. Jason scoots back until he’s beside you.
“I just miss you,” he sighs, pulling you against him like he originally wanted to do.
You lean back against his chest to feel him more.
“I’ve missed you too, Jay,” you reply.
There's been a rise in crime lately, which resulted in Jason being out in the field more than usual. However, it feels as if there’s a break and you and Jason are making the most of it. You’re sure he will be summoned again soon.
Jason snuggles your body more—if possible—and kisses the back of your head.
“We’re so sleeping in today,” he mumbles, a slight groan accompanying his words.
You giggle. “I can’t protest that.”
“Hm, good,” he says. “Goodnight, baby.”
Smiling, you echo, “Goodnight, Jay.”
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©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
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ginax0916 · 29 days
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°‧★ 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 ★‧°
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
Genre: Angst & fluff
Synopsis: What happens when they’re both jealous with feelings for each other, but won’t admit it?
(It starts off with texts but it’s a regular story after)
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༺☆༻
Y/n pov:
Why does he care so much? It’s not even like we’re dating. Plus he brings girls over all the time why’s it such a big deal that I have a date. It’s like he’s purposely saying all these bad things about him so I’ll cancel the date. I truly don’t get what he means, Jason is a nice guy every girl simps over him. Not to mention he’s captain of the football team. But I mean what can go wrong, we’re just going out to dinner then coming back to my place and there, done.
But part of me feels regret. I don’t know why but I feel regret for not listing to Matt now that Jason is only 5 minutes away. What if he’s right? What if he really is just putting an act on to get into my pants? No he would never. Matt’s just jealous and trying to scare me. After all we’re just roommates.
*knock knock*
Oh fuck. Jason’s here. Suddenly my nerves are increasing. My hands are sweaty and my dress is too tight. What the fuck do I do.
“Hey Jason”
“Hey pretty, you read to go?” He says. But for some reason it feels weird when he says it.
“Uh yea let me just grab my coat” I say as I walk to my bedroom and put it on. Before I walk out I see myself in the mirror. Is the dress too short? Too slutty? Suddenly I’m overthinking everything.
“Ok let’s go” I saw as I walk back to him.
“You look beautiful by the way” Jason says. Yet it still feels weird.
“Thank you. You look good too” I say trying to convince myself that he does.
We get in the car and he starts driving, about 5 minutes into the car ride I feel his hand creep onto my knee. And it keeps moving up till it rests on my inner thigh. I wanna push his hand off but I don’t want to be rude.
“Is that fine?” He asks.
“Uh yea” I could’ve said fucking no.
The rest of the ride is filled with an awkward and uncomfortable silence.
The whole dinner was extremely awkward. We barely agreed on anything and he kept making weird comments about how good my body looked in the dress. I just wanted to be done with it and go home.
“You read to go?” Jason asked. Fuck yes I am.
“Yea let’s go” I say.
Gladly he payed for the dinner which was nice of him, but it still doesn’t change the fact that the night was extremely uncomfortable.
We get in the car and I expect him to turn it on but he doesn’t.
“Are you gonna turn it on?” I ask trying to sound as nice as possible.
“You look so pretty” He says as he puts his hand on my thigh, too far up for my liking.
“Oh uh thanks” I saw trying to move away from him.
“That dress makes you look so good” Jason mumbles as he gets closer to me.
“I bet it would look even better if it was on the floor”
“Wha-” I get cut off my his lips on mine.
“What the fuck” I raise my voice as I push him off of me.
“Come on don’t be a brat” He grabs my face and attempts to kiss me again.
“Get the fuck off me” I scream as I try to unbuckle my self.
“I said don’t be a fucking brat” Jason raises his voice as he grabs my body and tries to pull me over to his side of the car.
“I said get off me you jackass!” I scream and I push him hard enough so he lets go and I get out of the car.
As I’m walking away from the car I hear the engine start and before I can move away he drives by me speeding through the puddle that was on the ground, making it splash all over me.
“You’re fucking kidding”
I sit on the curve of the parking lot, soaking wet in disgusting water and pull out my phone to text the one person who warned me this was going to happen.
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He’s gonna kill me.
I stay here where he told me freezing because of the water and my jacket is soaked so it’s not much use. But soon enough I see Matt’s car pull up in front of me.
“Oh baby what happened? Why are you soaking wet” Matt says the second he gets out of the car.
“You were right. I should’ve listened I’m sorry” I sniffle as I feel tears swell up in my eyes.
“Hey hey it’s ok don’t cry. You did nothing wrong” He says while wrapping his arms around me holding me close.
“But you warned me and I was bitch and didn’t listen” I start to cry, keeping my head on Matt’s chest.
“No you’re not a bitch. You just made a mistake and now you can learn from it yea? You didn’t know this was gonna happen don’t bring yourself down for it” He comforts me.
“Here put this on and I’ll take you home and then you can tell me everything that happened how does that sound?” Matt asks as he wraps his coat around me.
“Mhm yea” I nod.
“Come on let’s go sweets I don’t want you to get sick” He grabs my hand helping me get up and we get into the car.
Instead of there being an awkward silence, there’s a comforting silence.
I look over to Matt and I feel butterflies in my stomach. The way the moonlight shines through the window lighting his face up. The way his blue eyes reflect the stars in the sky. The way his jawline is so sharp and defined and his cheekbones more prominent than ever. The way his nose compliments his face oh so well. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts about my roommate, it’s not right.
But what if I don’t wanna be just roommates with Matt anymore?
Should I make a part 2 for this or no??
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fcthots · 7 months
Note
“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.
-🧸
You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.
Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
You walked as fast as possible.
You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.
Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.
You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.
You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.
Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.
The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.
"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"
Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.
"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."
"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."
Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.
"It's-"
"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."
He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.
"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"
You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.
The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.
You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.
There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.
"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."
You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.
You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.
You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.
He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.
"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."
All you could manage to get out was his name.
"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.
Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.
He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”
You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.
Bonus:
"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"
"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."
"I hate that that makes me feel safer."
He smiles apologetically. "I love you."
"I love you too."
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Text
Yandere Hare and Bunny Hybrids (2)
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Part 1 
“Okay bye guys. Jared, I’m trusted you with the home!”
“You got it, babe. Bring home some bark if you have the time.”
“Sure!”
*Muffled* “Noooo! Waaaiiiittt (Yyyy/nnnn) please! I promise I won’t put thumbtacks in your shoes.. anymore! I’m sorrryyy!!! Please!--”
The sound of the door slamming shut starts Chryst on a whole new set of tears
Jared looks at the watch he has and knows he’s got a good three hours before he can even think about taking the padlock off Chryst’s door
So he indulges in his favorite activity in the meantime
Running on the treadmill next to his favorite picture of you running
If he’s feeling especially proud he’ll go for a run and stop by his favorite smoothie place
That has a perfect view of your work place+
“Now that’s a view.”
He hates how often he gets approached 
he has to remind you next time to get him a ring 
only for appearances of course
When he returns home first thing he does is stick his tall ears against the bedroom door before unlocking it
Immediately darting into his chest, Chryst hugs him tightly just happy to not be alone
Then he darts into your room to ruin your bed to aggressively inhale your scent
And your closet
And your laundry
When he’s done with that he’ll go find Jared again this time to plan on his next scheme to keep you from leaving for work the next day
Jared doesn’t say anything, he just finishes what’s left of his smoothie warning him when he gets too intense
“Maybe before they take their lunch I could put something special in there!”
“Okay.”
“Maybe something that makes them all sleepy and cuddly again!” 
“Sure.”
“And for extra–good measure, I’ll cut the brake lines in their car!”
“Okay. That’s too far.” 
But if he’s already thought up a good plan he’ll move on to other things
“Have you ever noticed our neighbor is around (Y/n)’s age?”
“Yeah so?”
“I…don’t want them to exist anymore.”
“Me neither. But we’ll be first suspects so no go.”
“Would that still be the case if we cut his brakes?”
“....No.”
“Good.”
They hold down the fort waiting for the minute you come home
“Hey guys I’m home–Ooof!”
“Oh (Y/n)!!!! I missed you so much!” 
He buries his head into your chest so hard the first time it feels like he’s trying to suffocate you
Jason on the other hand will stand a ways away pouting and tapping his feet until you give him his scheduled pat and boop on the nose
“Hey to you too, casanova!”
“Hmph remembering me are you? Good for you.”
“Not just that I got you that bark you wanted.”
“...Thanks.” “(Y/n) hurry up take off your work clothes they smell like a gaggle of predators!” 
“Okay okay! Don’t unbutton that! I’ll do it myself geez!”
They’re happy to have you back 
Now they can both be fully at peace 
At least until the next time you leave
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stararch4ngelqueen · 22 days
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A Spoonful of Honey
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Jason Todd/pregnant fem!reader (cause why not, I started reading the adventures comic so silly Jason is just on my mind as much as big beefy himbo acting like a baby over taking medicine. Chat I’ve been through it these past months, so this isn’t proofread)
Time Written - 11:05 p.m
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The morning was cold, dreadfully cold, with a humid fog blanketing the dreary skies, blurring the atmosphere in a quiet haze. The temperature reached forty degrees at the highest around the late evening, giving those who had no business being outside a perfect excuse to remain indoors.
You basked in this opportunity to bring out your gold handle, cream colored dutch oven. Soft cardigan sleeves pushed up to your elbows to cut vegetables for a hearty dinner.
Slow, rugged feet trudged into the kitchen in the midst of you sautéing a rainbow assortment of veggies in butter and oil, dressed in his ‘plain ol’ civilian clothing’, a muted gray hoodie pulled over his head.
A sort throat was how it started; signifying the side effects to his nightly routine. Vigorous exercise could only help so much to fight off the chill, but with temperatures dropping incredibly low, sweat could nearly freeze on skin shortly after it’s been secreted.
The cold nearly nipped a permanent flush to his chiseled cheeks, kissing a sprinkle of color on his nose. He looked as exhausted as he did the previous night, when he first arrived home with a short cough and occasional clear of his throat.
Jason was sick, in the beginning stages of a cold. He’s not even bothering to hide it, yet continued to insist it wasn’t as bad as he led it on to become.
“You’re makin’ soup?” he asked. A comforting, light pressure of broad muscle against your back. Warm hands roaming from their soft placement along your hip dips roam forward, rustling along the fabric of your plush sweater, palms finally settling snug over your stomach.
“Mhm.” You nod, settling one of your hands over his interlaced fingers. “Chicken. With potato, and a ton of vegetables you like.”
“Mmm,” he hums, lightly sniffing the delectable curls of seasoned steam from your spice additions. “Smells incredible, ma.”
“Thank you. Good for the cold,” you comment, feeling satisfied at your seasoned sauté of protein and vegetables. You glance over your shoulder, smiling a little at his calm, droopy expression. “And colds.”
“Wow. Funny.” He murmurs per your amusement, taking over in reaching for the box of broth you set aside.
“You looked a little under the weather. Just wanted to help you feel a little better.” You reply after nodding in thanks for his aid, snapping open the seal to the box.
“You’re always taking care of me.” He exhales, his head tilting to kiss you on the cheek. He sounds grateful for the consideration, but he’s not very surprised by it.
You always had a tendency to spoil him. It’s just been your nature since the minute he first knew you.
“How’s the little one doing?” he asks, thumbs brushing light ovals over the soft mound of your protruding bump. Barely the size of an overripe grapefruit, or an underripe honeydew.
“Fine. No complaints,” you continue while pouring in the chicken broth. “Though, I’m sure the baby’s convinced that papa is doing a terrible job not resting up.”
Of course, he says nothing of it to confirm or deny. As if there was anything to deny, you could hear it in his slightly nasally tone. His fingers continue their gently ministrations, his eyes seemingly fixated on your actions, or unfocused as his mind trails off to space.
“Jay.”
“Hm?” His head slightly perks, leaving you to instantly assume the latter.
“It’s only been four months. You won’t feel much at four months.”
Maybe it’s faint arrogance to the doctor’s words. Maybe it’s wishful thinking, but he thinks that he can feel their baby shifting and wriggling around inside. He never thought of it before until it occurred to him one day, entering his mind at first as a silly thought before turning into a strong fixation.
“What, are you expecting it to come out and give you a high five?”
“Shut up.” He grunts, earning you a smirk.
“Couch,” you instruct, your gentle squeeze of your hand on his forearm combatting your firm tone. “Dinner’s almost done. Go relax.”
“Alright.” He’s quick to agree, yet his actions say otherwise. For a man who’s known by others to sulk, in your doting presence he reverts to a state a comfortable serenity, regardless of this mild illness weighing heavy on his tired bones. Regardless of your ever so heartwarming instruction, he retaliates with gentle backlash, consisting of third grade retorts and heavy groans. All in good fun, merely poking at your funny bones to catch a glimpse of a smile.
He moves his hand in little circles against your belly, waiting for his baby to respond. While he doesn’t feel any kicks just yet, he’s excited just thinking about all the times they have to come.
As much as you loved every ounce of physical touch, the slightest pet peeve of him not doing as you requested for his own good irked your mind. “Jason. You gotta move.”
“Can’t,” he mutters, “I’m fine right where I am.”
“You can play with the baby after you eat, Jason,” you insist. “You gotta eat, take some medicine, and rest. You can’t take medicine until you’ve eaten first.”
“I bet you the baby’s hungry, too.” Such sweet words from his mouth nearly had you melting on the spot. Already a doting father in waiting, how could you not feel your heart flutter?
“Jason,” you insist once more, your spoon resting on the rim of the cooking pot.
“Don’t wanna,” he replies, sounding both annoyed and amused by such insistence. His warm body never separated from yours for a mere five to seven minutes after that, your palm reaching up and back to catch his cheek, meeting the warm skin of his flushed face.
“You ever notice that you get grouchy during a cold—“
“I’m not grouchy right now though—”
“—the baby wouldn’t want their papa to be grouchy.”
“And you’re being a little mean.”
“Me? Mean?” You sounds surprised, though you’re smiling wide the entire conversation.
“Yes, you.”
“I could never.”
He doesn’t look at you though, his voice sounding playful once more. “You’re being super mean, trying to make me eat and take medicine and everything. The audacity, ma.”
You scoff as you closes the pot, turning your full bodied attention to Jason.
You smile, adoring your sick beloved, the father of your unborn baby gazing down at you with exhausted, lovestruck teal eyes. He always looked so cute, especially sick with a cold. Especially with the mentality of thinking he can do what he wants at this moment, thinking he’s said all the right words to coerce you.
“Good. That’s called love, now gooo.”
He sighs, and he’s really not looking forward to it. The idea of eating just doesn’t sound appealing right now anymore, nor does taking the medicine. Either way, the coziness of his woman wrapped in pearl colored cashmere with a cozy smile finally allured him towards the promising comfort of the living room couch, a temporary respite.
Inevitably, He left you to finish, granting the kitchen vocal silence for the next twenty minutes, apart from the soft drum of heavenly soup coming to a boil. Only when you come to find him did you see him flopped on the couch, an arm draped over his eyes to block all means of light.
You beckon him with a bowl of warm soup settling on the coffee table, alongside the eventual promise of lemon balm tea with a spoonful of crystallized honey.
“I don’t even feel that sick,” he grunts as he sits up, his voice starting to get a little hoarse from him talking (and complaining). Let the big guy say what he wants, you knew him better than even he admitted to allow.
“Then you’ll have no problem drinking my horrible concoction,” your gentle sarcasm would never be heard as unfavorable in his ears.
Jason takes a sip of his soup, slightly wincing from the heat on his sore throat, but he doesn’t seem as pleased with it as he’d originally thought. It tastes good, everything you’ve ever concocted for meals brought comfort, but as of now. he’s not really as hungry as he anticipated.
“What is this? Chicken, right?” He’s just making small talk now, wanting the conversation to last. “It’s really good, really, ma. Just not as hungry as I thought.”
You nod, not really happy about the outcome. But again, he’s sick. You can’t blame him.
“Take a few more sips, at least. Just so the medicine dosent make your stomach hurt.”
Jason looks away when you mentions the medicine, but he nods all the same. He eats what he can from his bowl, his shoulders slumping as exhaustion decides to increase weight down on his bones, forcing him into an even drowsier state.
All he does is partially lean against you after setting his bowl back on the table, keeping his eyes closed to ease the faint throbbing pressure building at the top of his head.
“I don’t even like cold medicine… I can’t sleep when I’m drowsy.” He mutters to himself, seeming to babble to no one but himself on not being so ill.
Your hand reach up to settle along his back, easing the tension with your fingers massaging his neck, confusion conflicting your mind at first.
“What you just said made no sense,” you giggle a bit, watching him lazily shake his head with a mild scoff.
He presses his head against the curve of your shoulder, his voice growing soft like a cat’s rumble. One of his arms settles lazily around your back. his body feeling practically limp.
By now, his response came in a series of short, muffled hums. He’s not complaining, really, but he is being extremely clingy. He just wants to be wrapped up in your arms, succumbing to an incredibly long sleep in your embrace, as if he can’t support his own weight. (He really can, but chooses not to.)
“On the bright side, the medicine says it tastes like honey.” You gently suggest, putting optimism where it may have lacked.
“Can’t you take it for me?” He lightly whines, his voice rumbling with a drowsy rasp. At this point, it’s not even because of the cold. Jason’s just too exhausted to think straight.
“I don’t know if pregnant women can take this kind of cold medicine,” you whisper to him, holding his shoulder after combing through his hair.
“Pretty please?” He whispers, his body feeling a little warmer from your presence. As comforting as it may have been to him now, a few minutes longer would’ve resorted in an uncomfortable ache in his neck from this poor posture.
“C’mon baby, just one little cup of medicine and you can sleep as much as you want. I’ll even yell at Bruce or Dick if they even try to call.”
Jason gives a light chuckle, his nose brushing along your jaw before planting a minor kiss along your neck.
“Fine, guess I’ll stop giving mama a hard time about it. It’ll be your job in about five months.” He speaks in second tense towards the bump in between you, followed by an eye roll on your end.
Watching you measure out the golden, syrupy mixture of potentially foul tasting medicine left him in a weak bind. He’d graciously drink horrid syrups consisting of fear toxin and joker venom if it meant you’d spoon-feed him an antidote. Such blind devotion was rare to come by throughout his life, comfort was your name in a foreign language.
He’s blessed with your smile once he had gotten the medicine down, rewarded with a kiss on the tip of his nose and a cup of promised tea, ambrosia to combat the foul taste. Goddamn medicine bottles with their stupid, deceiving lies.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so needy.” His slurred mumbling surprised you the most as you adjusted the blankets between the two of you.
A light tongue click leaves you, shaking your head in denial from such an unnecessary apology. “Don’t be, you silly man.”
Whether from some conflicting guilt, or illness inducing dysphoria on his mind, or shame, you gently deny and accept his apology with another kiss.
The effect of the medication is quickly kicks into place after ten minutes in bed, starting to drift off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
Nothing but calm silence steals his consciousness for a few hours, warm bodies sheltered by the chilly winds batting against fogged glass throughout the long hours of the night. Despite the occasional faint echoes of neighbors next door and above, serene silence envelopes the minds of exhausted bodies.
You were snuggled up beside him with one of many pillows invading the space. Your cardigan sprawled neglected on the floor, cast aside due to the overwhelming seer of body heat.
He sighs softly, still tired, but his eyes glance over to the time on the nightstand clock.
He’s been asleep for hours, the time being … A little after eleven.
“Damn.” He whispers, drawing your closer to his body in a close hold. You feel so good like this, so safe. Spending all this time with him, doting on him, caring for him would mean the fifty percent chance you’d be afflicted next once he got better. Jason didn’t mind one bit, as much as he knew he should’ve been the one spending all his free time being attentive to your needs.
Either of you would look back on this and laugh of it, considering it practice for the baby.
For now, in the short time period of limbo between doctors appointments, checklists on supplies, criminal justice, and other impending challenges of becoming parents, everything was quiet. Calm, perfect even.
“Shh, the baby’s sleeping,” you softly retaliate, your hand cradling over his on the bump. You nudge just a little closer to the warmth radiating off him, seeking comfort with the furnace you call your beloved.
“What time is it?”
“Sleeping time,” he retorts, still sounding a little drowsy, his words coming out slow and somewhat slurred. His nose felt more stuffy than before, his head aching with a pressure that grew the longer he remained awake.
Once more, calloused fingers rustle against the fabric of his shirt on your body, potentially to be stretched during the later months to come. Here’s to hoping, he’s been secretly dying to see it.
“I love you both,” he whispers along your forehead, speaking from his heart in the sanctuary of your shared vulnerability.
You smile, tilting your head up to plant a soft, exhausted kiss on his chin. “We love you too,” you whisper, fighting back sleep to express an intimate act of love.
He closes his eyes, ready to sleep again. He’s not tired yet, stuck between the purgatory of both conscious states, but he’s not going to be able to stay awake much longer. At this point, he’s already half in the land of dreams. He’s comfortable—and happy to be with you, and with his baby.
“Never wanna let go of you two,” he mumbles, faintly catching the fragrance of your shampooed hair, the faint spice of ambery musk clinging to your skin.
You can’t help but quietly coo, burying most of your face against the crook of Jason’s neck.
“Then, don’t.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 27 days
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Reader being Jason or Dick's girlfriend, who doesn't know about their double life, casually blurting out that she was never a fan of Batman and Robin or that she prefers Superman and the whole family is offended. 😭
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I was tired and failed to realises that this came out a bit like a crack fic in the end but I’m sure you won’t mind…hopefully.
Jason: honestly has too much fun shit talking Bruce to you, especially when you didn’t know the man that you were shit talking as well as he did.
He just found it funny hearing you say with your full chest in front of his family that you prefer the Man of Steel over the Dark Knight.
It sends his entire family in disarray and chaos and Jason was thriving off of it immensely. He does not help the situation at all and would wholeheartedly make things worse for the sake of having something to talk about later.
Dick was borderline catatonic as Duke and Steph were trying to bring him back to reality.
Alfred excused himself from the room.
Damian was sharpening his dinner knife. Menacingly.
Meanwhile Tim was pulling up a long winded power point presentation about how statistically Batman was better than Superman. (In every possibly way, you’re just hating.)
That’s literally the title of his presentation.
‘Did he have this prepared in his free time or?’ You’d ask Jason who shrugs.
‘Let the boy have hobbies peanut, it’s not like he’s got anything better going for him right now.’ He replies, thinking that he should start coming to family dinners more if this was the end result.
Bruce might’ve looked the calmest out of everyone but internally he was cursing out Clark for stealing his future in law. He knew preferences exists and didn’t hold it against you, but currently he was in a disagreement with Clark over a recent mission and it had become a thing where the entire family didn’t dare speak or utter Clark/Superman’s name during this sensitive period.
Once Dick comes back to the land of the living, he’s practically hanging off of you screaming, ‘WHY?!’
Jason has to get involved and remove his brother off of you before he potentially scared you away from future family dinners, even though he himself barely attends any, but the moment you entered his life he wanted you to be more involved with the people in his life that cares about; whether he’d like to admit it or not.
‘They don’t hate me do they?’ You asked Jason by the end of the night, genuinely worried that his family might not like you after tonight.
Jason, noticing this, grabs your hands and grips them tightly in his and gives you a reassuring smile. ‘Babe I’m sure as shit they like you, I mean I’ve never seen them react like that before and if they didn’t like you, they would let you know immediately.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. ‘Besides, weren’t not a vocal bunch when it comes to our emotions. So seeing them get all up in arms over you preferring Superman and trying to persuade you into thinking otherwise was a highlight for me.’
‘Really you think so?’ You leant into him, still not fully convinced and needing his comfort more than anything.
‘Oh yeah. I’m for certain chipmunk. I think I even heard Bruce curse Clark under his breath once or twice.’ He tells you, pressing a kiss to your head as he holds you close.
‘But why? It’s not like they work with Batman, right?’ Your curious words caused Jason to stiffen and his breath to hitch as he tried to find the words before blurting out the first thing that came to his head. ‘No, they’re just…really devoted fans of Batman and Robin. So you could say that preferring Superman over them is a personal insult to them.’ He said, hoping you’d buy the lie, he genuinely didn’t want to subject you to the whole vigilantism so early on in your relationship.
Thankfully you did take the bait as you muttered into his shoulder, ‘okay, I hope they know I meant no offence but it.’ Jason let’s our a laugh, holding you closer to him as he closes his eyes to savour your bodily warmth against him. ‘I’m sure they do sweetheart, they’re the smartest people I know and they wouldn’t let something silly this affect our relationship.’ He said softly. ‘Now let’s go home and cuddle up in bed together yeah?’
‘That sounds like a great idea.’ You replied.
Dick: pouty baby.
What do you mean you don’t like Batman and Robin?! What did Superman have that he didn’t?!
For as far as Dick was concerned he has the fatter ass between him and Clark. He’s done the research.
He’s leaning all of his weight into you and says under his breath. ‘Why does my love betray me so.’ Meanwhile you’re looking at his confused as to why he’s acting as if you’ve just destroyed his lively hood with a single sentence.
Duke and Steph were patting Dick on the shoulder, sharing their sympathies with the revelation made at the dinner table.
Alfred left the room…again. First Jason’s partner, now Dick’s? What a coincidence.
Jason immeditly calls you his favourite and talks about how you and his partner -who also prefers Superman- would get along great while shit talks Batman simultaneously, almost as though he has a personal gripe with him or something.
Damian is sharpening his dinner knife…again but even more menacingly.
And Tim was back on the PowerPoint presentation where he goes into excruciating depths as to why Batman was statistically better the Superman.
The family is once again dissolved into chaos and Bruce was sat at the head of the table, calm, cool and collected but internally cursing Clark out once again for stealing another potential future in law.
(Clark has sneezed approximately twice at this rate and was taking every test to make sure he wasn’t coming down with anything serious)
After all was said and done and you were getting ready for bed, you asked the question that had been on your mind the entire night; ‘Your family doesn’t hate me, do they?’
Dick chuckled as he held you against his chest. ‘No, they love you enough to almost start a war over the fact that you like Superman over Batman and they’re not exactly the most in tune with their emotions. So seeing them react the way that they did? Only proves that they do like you cutie.’ He says as he gives you a peck on the lips.
You pouted. ‘But why does it feel like I just attached their lively hoods? It’s not like they know Batman or Robin personally or work with them in any capacity.’
Dick froze, he -much like Jason- didn’t want to subject you with the whole vigilante thing just yet, he didn’t want to scare you off so soon into the relationship in fear of scaring you away forever. ‘Devoted fans act like that whenever you tell them that you don’t like the same person as them.’ Dick replied, rubbing his hand up and down your back. ‘It’s an issue that should be regulated and or addressed at least.’
You hummed in agreement. ‘Well besides that, I like yours family, they all look like great people to know that have your back when you’re in a tough situation.’ You say as you kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, feeling sleepy.
‘They really are.’ Dick replied softly. ‘They really are.’
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