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#arkham knight fanfic

sideeve · 6 months

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arkham knight!jason who watched you for months before the cloudburst. you catch his attention as he tried to get familiar with Gotham after he left the asylum. maybe it was the way your hips swayed flawlessly as you walked or the way your breasts jiggled. whatever it was made him enamored.

arkham knight!jason who takes you in secretly. he feared that if scarecrow knew about you, you would become his test subject to his fear toxin. he keeps you in his bunker, bringing you the necessities.

you got comfortable with arkham knight!jason after a while. he even showed you the person under the mask when he was sure you weren’t a threat. on calm night, he’d strip down into nothing but his boxers, cuddling you as he stroked your hair whispering apologies for taking you.

arkham knight!jason was quick to fuck you through his mattress. your face was pushed into the pillow as his large hands held your hips up, helping him hit your spot at a better angle.

arkham knight!jason who fucked you so good you didn’t even think about leaving him. his cock hit your sensitive walls too beautifully for you to threaten him of escaping. his tongue was too skilled for you to even utter the words for leaving him. he made sure of it.

taglist ;; @worldsgreatestsinner

#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight fanfic #arkham knight fanfiction #arkham knight #dc fanon #dc fanfiction #dc x reader

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dearest-dirt · 2 years

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Moments Between Lovers (Arkham Knight x Reader)

Warning: Mentions that the Reader is naked.

Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 528

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Hi! I’m going to do a series of small drabbles with the same title but with different characters. I changed this from 3rd person to 2nd person POV, so let me know if you catch any mistakes. I hope you enjoy it! Bestie, please reblog!

Summary: Tenderness and sweet physical gestures, also some angst and longing.

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The room was dark, there was barely any yellow street light peeking in through the blind. Your naked, sweaty body was pressed right onto his side. The cold suit was warm from where your legs and arms were intertwined with his, where your body made contact with his. Your fingers were drawing over the white Arkham Knight symbol on his chest, over and over again ingraining it into your mind. His gloved hands were running through your hair, gently and almost ghost-like. Listening to you breathing, gave him a sense of calm that he doesn’t know he needs. Not a word is spoken. It seems like eternity that you stay in that position, neither wanting to move in case this is a dream and the other won't be there as soon as either one moves.

You untangle yourself from him at last and start getting up to look at the time on the side of the bed. “The sun will come up soon,” you said, laying down again on the bed but keeping a distance this time.

“Hunn,” he grunts mechanically from behind the mask, not only from the loss of your contact but, also, from not wanting to make the effort of moving or getting up.

“You should go, otherwise it'll be impossible once the sun comes up. Unless you’re planning on staying until the sun goes down again,” you said jokingly, hoping he would stay.

He doesn’t respond, but just pushes himself off the bed. He’s not staying, he never stays. You watch him as he starts putting back the weapons and the pieces of his armor he tossed aside earlier. After he’s done, he stares at you from behind his mask; all the cockiness and bravado gone, leaving just his feelings and emotions for him to deal with.

“I’ll see you later,” he mutters.

“Wait,” you say as you sit up and move towards him at the edge of the bed in one swift movement.

You grab his masked face and pull him close, kissing him right where his lips would be. How was he suppose to function when you were doing things like this? You pulled away and stared at where his eyes were under the mask. He didn’t even notice that his arm had snaked around you, pulling you in closer to him in a sort of exasperated desperation. He lets go as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. He stares at you again before running his gloved fingers gently down the side of your face, stopping to let his thumb graze over your lips in a devotional effort to remember them and learn their curvature. He dropped his hands and without saying anything made his way out of the room and through the unlocked window, knowing fully well that he would be back in your arms in a few days. He couldn’t stay away, he didn’t want to.

You go back to bed, the dark room slowly starts becoming a little lighter, “I love him” escaping your lips as you drift off into slumber with the sound of the Arkham Knight’s mechanical voice and cold touch haunting you. I love him.

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bicycle4two · 1 year

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all jason todd x reader fics

Gotham Knights

fine as we are, but we want more

jason and you reunite after a long time

CHAPTERS 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 (complete)

Read on AO3

ruin it all and love like fools masterlist

Jason and his angel’s lives after the events of fine as we are, but we want more

Read on AO3

Batman: Arkham Knight

built to love, but broken now // soulmate au

Read on AO3

to the one that your love masterlist

Jason and his little mouse’s lives after the events of built to love, but broken now

Read on AO3

Non-Canon Specific

#masterlist #jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfic #jason todd x reader #jason todd/reader #jason todd x you #jason todd fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #dc fanfic #red hood #red hood fanfic #red hood fanfiction #arkham knight #arkham knight fanfic #gotham knights #gotham knights fanfic #gotham knights fanfiction

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kuebiko-kei · 2 years

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I was really trying to avoid this, but:

I have lost a fic. Does anyone know of the Jason Todd/Reader (might have been OC), set after the Arkham Knight?

I literally only remember:

Roy and Lian stayed with them at some point

Reader(or OC) finds out Jason was the Arkham Knight (the militia attack was like 6 months ago at that point) and they have a massive fight

Jason keeps a sentimental tank from his days as the Arkham Knight

Lex Luthor tries to publicly incriminate Jason for some reason

Plssss I know it was on ao3 but I just cannot find it

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krashoutluv · 2 months

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Ur writing makes me emotional im literally writhing on the floor jason let me take care of u bbg 😭 can u write smth ab him letting his s/o take care of him after a rough patrol? Can be sfw or nsfw

HEHEHEHE THANK YOU ANON!! I GOTT YOUUU

im so proud of this it took long but im literally writing this at 3:49 AM bc of the idea that popped up in my half asleep brain

Taking care of ak!Jason Todd after patrol!! (SFW FLUFFY FIC)

Night after night, Jason Todd would come home to you. Sometimes bloodied and bruised, sometimes frustrated and annoyed, sometimes his feet were dragging and his whole body ached. Tonight he slipped through your apartment window, smooth jazz played so lightly it took him a second to register it. A light in the dining room was on. He could’ve just showered to let the running water tell you he was home, and be greeted with your presence when he came out. But, tonight his eyelids were heavy and his body felt empty. Like a lost ghost, he longed for something that gave him a peace to rest his lamenting spirit. Jason wandered to you, it was second nature at times, he found you sitting at the dinner table working on your laptop.

Your gaze flicked upwards, the red of his helmet catching your eyes. “Welcome back!” You said warmly. Almost in an instant his body felt full, heavy, like he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there.

“Hey.” The helmets voice scrambler hid Jason’s mellowed tone. Slightly frowning underneath it because of its harsh manner, he promptly took it off. After sliding the cold metal off his head, his eyes met yours. You were smiling tenderly at him. Jason drifted toward you, when he got close he felt like his whole body would’ve dropped to your feet and he could in a dormant rest for centuries. As long as you stayed there of course. Hardly noticed how close he stood over you until he felt himself moving down to kiss your cheek. Jason stopped himself, “Can I?” he whispered to you feebly. You nodded to him with that warm smile he longed for desperately. Jason pressed his cold lips to your cheekbone, the sensation of your skin soothed that longing feeling. He pressed another one firmly, helplessly trying to quarrels his yearning soul. Jason caught himself, skin flushed as he dragged himself away.

A sigh escaped his lips and he started turning away,” Would you like one too?” He fixated himself back on you, you were still looking at him lovingly, your finger pressed against your lips, waiting for his response.

Wordlessly he bowed his head back toward you, turning his head for you to kiss his unbranded cheek. Jason wasn’t ready for you to touch that side of him so directly. He didn’t want you to meet the oily black hate, the only other thing that touched his heart, his longing, his ache as comfortingly as you did. The discomfort seeped from him when he felt your plush lips meet his skin, it wasn’t quick, not too long either. In Jason’s mind it was perfection, it made that tar that stuck in his veins seem like a pathetic substitute. It made his breath heavy, all but burdened with a swollen heart. It made him feel untouchable, not in his brutal norm but in a heavenly stillness. It made him scared. That you could take care of him, not just when his body bled but when you filled something enigmatically empty inside him. Something that he could only fill with that hate that he clutched onto like a boy to his mother.

Jason lugged himself away from you. He wasn’t sure what would hurt him more and he wasn’t ready to find out. He sat across from you pressing his callous palms against his face.

“Bad night?”

“Mhm. Something like that.”

“Need anything?” He already got it.

“No.”

He would be lying if he were to say he wouldn’t wish to a star like a child, asking for your ease indefinitely.

i love him☹️

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x gn!reader #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood x gn!reader #arkham knight x you #jason todd x you #red hood x you #|| 🪼krash responds to u #🪼krash writes fanfic #🪼krash rambles about ak!jason todd #skullkidwithsunglasses

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lambsouvlaki · 2 months

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Shelter from the Storm - Relief

Characters: AK!Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: E, hand job (f!receiving), orgasm delay, soft dom!Jason.

Word Count: 250

Summary: Jason is a terrible tease.

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“Maybe you’d like to stop?” Jason drawled.

She shook her head. Damp hair stuck to her forehead. He brushed it back.

“I’m going to break you,” he promised into her ear.

“Go on then,” she panted.

Her legs trembled and threatened to close. He pulled them up over his thighs. She gripped his wrist and thigh tightly. Her chest heaved with every breath. He pulled back, again. She keened at the loss.

Still, she didn’t ask for relief.

He nuzzled into her cheek, amazed at her endurance. Just how far could she go? He fed off of her soaring pleasure and denial both.

“You won’t outlast me,” he whispered. “I’m a patient man.”

Hungry, needy eyes looked up at him from a body utterly empty of resistance. Tears trailed freely down her cheeks. Her voice had turned raspy and weak. He flicked a thumb over a neglected nipple, and she cried out.

He brought her to the precipice again. He had worked out how to hold her there, denying her rest time.

Her hand fluttered over his hand. Her eyes closed.

“Please,” she whispered. It was a broken sob.

He wrapped a hand lightly around her throat and rubbed his thumb gently over a tendon.

“What was that?”

“Please, Jason, let me come.”

“Beautiful,” he sighed.

#jason todd #red hood #akjason #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #my fanfic #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd smut #the arkham knight

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literallywtflol · 10 months

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Steam n' Bubbles

MINORS DNI | Implied Dom!Jason, implied Sub!reader, female!reader, suggestive, light mentions of a situationship, proofread

DO NOT REPOST/REWRITE ELSEWHERE

You and Jason Todd had a strange relationship.

It wasn't really a friendship, but you guys also weren't really dating. You didn't want to call it a "situationship" because there was little to no misunderstanding between the two of you; You both knew how you felt about one another. It just seemed like neither of you were going to do anything about it.

That is, until Jason had you all alone, to himself, in a jacuzzi, at the Wayne mansion.

You two had been talking casually for the majority of your visit, and Jason had been courting you well. You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the little glimpses he'd given you, but there was no use in acting as if you weren't doing the same.

Your current conversation revolved around your apparent inability to hold eye contact. Something about you Jason loved to make of.

"Frankly," you stated, "I find this entire conversation pretty insulting." Jason scoffed, "what's insulting, is the fact you haven't even been able to maintain 5 whole seconds of eye contact with me through the whole thing. It's almost as if you want to prove me right." You rolled your eyes.

"So? What's your plan to fix my inability to hold eye contact? A staring contest?" You suggested, completely serious. "A staring contest sounds pretty lame. I've got a better idea." Jason grinned as he stood up.

The water from the jacuzzi washed down his body, and it took everything in you to not let your eyes wander from his broad shoulders, to his sculpted chest, to his muscular arms, and bulging forearms.

It took even more willpower for you not to indulge yourself in thinking about how easy he could throw you around and keep you in place. Maybe even crush some limbs if he really wanted to. Bruce could easily crush wrists with just a hand, after all.

He began walking towards your seated figure, towering over you once he reached you. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head to look up at him.

"How about," he began, "you let me do anything I want to you. Let me play with you, use you, absolutely ruin you. But you can't look away." The grin on his face only grew wider when he felt heat slowly pour into your cheeks.

He brushed his thumb over your lips and you immediately opened up for him. He swished his thumb inside before bending down to kiss you. His lips were soft, and he was moaning gently. He carefully moved his hand and wrapped it around your neck to lightly grab it, which caused you to whimper.

When he pulled away you kept your eyes shut and attempted to turn away, but Jason's strong hand kept your head in place. "Don't look away now, pretty girl. You practically begged for me to fix you, so here I am. Take what you begged for."

You opened your eyes to look up at him; Jason could see the desperation basically glimmering in your eyes. In return, you could see his pupils take up all the space in his eyes, reflecting his carnal desires.

At that very moment, you figured, this fucker had it out for you.

#i love jason #jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood smut #red hood x reader #arkham knight smut #i need this man #jason todd x fem!reader #jason peter todd #red hood x fem!reader #the red hood #dc smut #dc fanfic #i want his dick so far down my throat it leaves bruises

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red-riding-wood · 3 months

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Yellow Light

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x F!Reader

Summary: Jonathan is your guide as you escape Arkham Asylum.

Based off the song "Yellow Light" by Of Monsters and Men (original version here and acoustic version here). This song is really special to me and helped me brave my heart surgery in August. A lot of this fic is a projection of my own experiences, trauma, and health issues over the past several years -- but Arkham can represent absolutely anything you want it to that you or the character is trying to escape.

Song lyrics are in bold.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of PTSD (hospital trauma specifically), drug addiction/use, psychosis, hallucinations, fear of death, blood.

Will also use similar themes to my upcoming series "Darkness Until Dawn" and OC Cassie Hart but this is a standalone x reader fic.

I also feel like Crane might come across a bit OOC in this fic because he's in an established relationship with the reader and he's in a comforting role, but I promise I have some very fucked-up stuff for him coming up where he's an absolute menace.

WC: 3309

Sounds of Hell threaded themselves into the night air. Howling, bleating, baying down the streets. Whispering thoughts of death into your ears. Thoughts that formed into icy talons that raked down your spine, that stirred goosebumps along the bare flesh of your arms. That froze you in place, your heart slamming against your ribs as they tethered you to the cold concrete like vines.

Frantic looks cast to your left, to your right, you turned, stumbling over your own feet as you whirled, the darkness of each alleyway sinking into your soul. Staring back at you as if to say, you cannot escape me.

I’m looking for a place to start. Everything feels so different now.

Which way was out? Which way was back there? Back to the dingy halls of Arkham, the acrid stench of spoiled cafeteria food, the howling of patients that still seemed to echo back to you from the alleys.

The maw of a great beast parted, razors of teeth glinting silver in the dark, stretching from one brick wall to another. Hurtling towards you, wisps of black smoke emerging from the darkness and curling round you like hissing tongues. The roar started as a peal of thunder, and ended as a shockwave, razor teeth shattering into glass as the beast collided against your skull. Dizzying waves sent the world spinning, brought you to your knees before the Devil himself.

She’s good as dead.

The beast’s maw burned hot as hellfire, breathing smoke into your aching lungs, ripples of molten lava racing beneath your skin. Teeth tore into your shoulder as your hand met the ground, shaking fingers settling into the grooves of the concrete like cold tiles. Death’s talons wrapped around your throat as a cry twisted from your larynx, pointed nails morphing to scalpels and tearing down your sternum, splitting open your ribs and baring your bleeding heart.

Crimson freckled the concrete, splatters of your blood landing hot and thick against the back of your hand as cold washed over each limb, the darkness creeping in from the corners of the alleys. You reached your free hand to your forehead, and nearly cried out again in pain, but you couldn’t speak; something sharp wedged itself between your fingers, something sticky attaching webs of hair against your clammy palm.

Your hand came away with a shard of glass protruding from the stretch of skin between your fingers, red dribbling down flesh too pale to be living.

Your stomach buckled, and you curled in on yourself, eyes rolling to the back of your throbbing skull and voices pouring in like a tide.

Get back here! She’s running. Running away. Where does she think she’s going? She’s not going anywhere. She can’t escape us. You can’t escape us.

Patients rattled the bars of their cages, threw themselves against their padded walls. Screeched warnings and mournful wails and haunted cries into the stale air of the hospital, into the icy chill of night.

Fingers seized into talons as they closed around your ears, attempting to block out the noise as it built into a terrifying crescendo, wails and whispers melding together as if the darkness were mocking you but the chill that swathed your impotent form reminded you of your isolation.

GET OUT! your lips parted to say but fell silent upon the words of the damned. Let me go. Let me go, let me go.

Warmth brushed your shoulder, and you blinked saline from your eyes, streaking salt down your lip, dampened hair falling over blurry vision as you looked up to the hand held to you in the darkness. The white cuff of a shirt disappearing beneath a black suit.

Just grab hold of my hand. I will lead you through this wonderland.

And his voice, soft and warm and human, cut through the noise. Hollowed a path through the tunnel of voices and breathed life into lungs that gasped for air. Sent a tremble of fear through death’s icy talons and made the demons crawl back into the earth.

I’m here, he said.

You couldn’t straighten your claw-like grip as it brushed the warmth of his hand, but his fingers entwined in yours and the glass split his palm and bled over your knuckles and he pulled, your shoulder screaming in pain and your legs wobbly beneath you, but you stood.

Your fingers balled into a fist, the touch of his hand dissolving like a pill in water, like sutures that held you to together for one moment only to leave you in pieces, scarred and bruised and broken. For a moment, you thought you’d fall again.

Faintly, a glow emerged from the blackness, silhouetting the lazy fall of a feather, so tranquil in contrast to the tendrils of ink black that writhed in your peripheral. You swiped a hand out to the feather, its softness akin to his hand, but the voices hissed at you to look up.

The jagged peaks of the skyscrapers groaned above, folding in across the dim sky and curling into black tides that came crashing around you as pressure mounted in your skull.

The darkness devoured you.

Water up to my knees. But sharks are swimming in the sea.

The ocean came flooding in around you, dampness seeping into the cuffs of your trousers, rising as the blackness pressed in around you. Ahead, the light glinted yellow, casting a thin line of white against the waves. The feather bobbed along the surface, chased by current that now buffeted the backs of your knees.

One foot placed before the other, you waded through the water, each step weighing heavier than the last. Each time, the light ahead grew just a little brighter, though the sides of your vision darker.

Wretched creatures began to emerge from the darkness, hissing and snarling and reaching for you in tendrils of smoke and ink. Gravity began to pull you downward, the current guiding you forwards as the alleyway morphed into a tunnel, and the voices of the underworld rang louder in your skull as you descended into the bowels of the city.

She’s heading into the darkness. The rot.

A giggle, echoing against the walls of the chamber that reeked of all things barren and desolate. Her mind’s a disease.

The reach of death grew thick here, in twisted ropes and vines that swallowed the arched ceiling, that bore down on you like snakes and streaked through the sea like eels of tar, the water itself no longer seeming so heavy in comparison as they engulfed each limb. Tightening. Shuddering.

She can’t get very far. She’s killing herself.

She has to. She has to live.

The voices were starting to argue.

Some were even voices you knew; they came to you past the iron bars nestled into pockets of your memories, depressions in the walls – people you’d known in that awful place cried out to you, cursed you, their faces fuzzy but still recognisable even in the darkness. Fellow souls trapped in the place that knew not of the sun’s warmth against your skin or the whistle of freedom through the wind.

Look. Look, girl.

Your brow furrowed, and your eyes scanned the darkness. With each face they landed on, the symphony of wails seemed to spike in volume along to the frantic thud of your heart, the little weaving line of a monitor etching itself across your mind’s eye.

Not there. No, not there.

Can’t she feel it?

It’s too late. The rot has her.

Soon it will reach her soul.

Your heart came lurching to a burning throat as the waters stirred and a creature emerged from their murky depths, slivers of metal protruding from its back before it disappeared, for half a moment resembling the wicked tips of syringes that still pricked your swiftly numbing skin.

Tearing your hands from the water, you froze, paralysis seeping in to every pore.

Ink tendrils snaked across the pallor of your flesh. From your fingertips to your elbows, the rot had taken you. It tightened round your forearm, your fingers turning completely numb.

You screamed.

Shhhhh, he soothed. Just come to me, darling. I’ll make it all better.

“JONATHAN!” Your mangled cry turned into something intelligible, the name sweet like honey on your tongue despite the bitterness of bile at the back of your throat.

Just follow my yellow light. And ignore all those big warning signs.

You began to slosh through the water, seeking him out in a frenzy, your teeth gritting as the walls of your skull began to cave in, as the rot spread to your shoulders and turned the water to pitch.

And at last, you saw him. Like the feather, silhouetted by the light, but unmistakably him. He paused, looking over his shoulder, strands of his black hair wisping this way and that. His face was shadowed, the sockets of his eyes black. The frames of his glasses glinted silver in the dark, like the teeth, the scalpels.

And he disappeared round the corner that twisted, walls shifting and shuddering as if forming a maze for a path.

Death’s icy fingers pried their way beneath your skin as the cold seeped past your blood and bones and settled somewhere deep inside the dwindling warmth of your soul. Freed from the water at last, you turned the corner and raised a rot-wreathed hand to the light fractured by a criss-cross pattern that reminded you of the bars of the asylum’s gate.

And the damp air became dry and musty, and the sewers morphed into dingy halls, alabaster wallpaper peeling back to reveal the black rot. Your pace quickened as these walls closed in, groaning with curses of the damned.

Just a little farther, the soothing, slightly-lilted baritones of his voice encouraged you on, but every turn you made down the narrowing halls, he managed to evade you, disappearing just out of reach. At the end of each hallway, what must’ve been a sewer drain and not a gate yawned from the blackness, little pockets of light stretching wider with each turn.

The feather crunched beneath your toes.

Fingers wrapped around the bars of the gate, and the hinges squealed as it swung open, your feet slotting into indentations along the walls as you desperately attempted to pull yourself up.

Warmth made you shiver in your cold sweat, and whispers funnelled into thin threads and lay buried beneath the ground as his hand met yours. In the faint glimmer of the light, you witnessed the rot dissipate, chased away by his touch. Purified.

“Jonathan,” you breathed, pulled flush to his chest, the mint of his breath raking across your lashes and the familiarity of his musk inhaled deeply through flared nostrils. You buried your face in his wrinkled tie and dress shirt and sobbed, your tears still tasting like saline. You savoured this moment, trembling beneath his touch, his hand petting the back of your dampened hair. You pulled away only as he hissed in pain.

“Jonathan, I’m scared,” you whimpered, guilty that you had seemed to wound him but caring only for sanctuary in this moment in which you knew nothing but fear. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so, so scared.”

“I know you are,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “But you have to keep going.”

“Where? Where are you taking me?” You stared into the hollows of his eyes, still pitch black past the glint of those silver frames. Why couldn’t you properly see him? Could he see you? Was he just another shadow, a trick of light on the wall?

Somewhere deep in the dark, a howling beast hears us talk.

Sirens wailed from the alley behind, and your blood ran cold. Jonathan stepped away, his touch tearing from yours almost painfully. Like he’d left the shards of glass in your palms.

“Don’t let them take me!” You pleaded, stumbling forward through the darkness. “I can’t go back! I can’t! COME BACK!”

She’s so afraid. So pathetic. She can’t do this without him.

The light grew in intensity, tinted more gold now than yellow, bathing the walls in a soft glow as they drew impossibly close, tapering the air in your lungs, building the pressure against your temples until your shoulders sagged under the weight of fatigue and white-hot fire cleaved your skull in two.

Jonathan paused, and turned. “Close your eyes,” he told you. “It’s not so dark here when you embrace it.”

I dare you to close your eyes. And see all the colours in disguise.

“NO!” You screeched, afraid that if you so much as blinked, he’d disappear, and you’d be lost to the darkness forever. You lurched forward on your heel, wedging yourself between the shuddering walls that closed in around you, following the same – and only path – he had taken. Turning sideways, you gulped in a breath of air, fingers scraping madly against the brick walls as the tide beginning to pool again round your ankles. The sky collapsed, pinning you, forcing your only breath from your lungs and snapping your ribs around your stuttering heart.

She’s gone. She won’t make it. She can’t reach him.

The air grew stuffy, stale. Your own breath bounced off the walls and flushed your cold, tear-streaked cheeks.

“Just trust me,” Jonathan said. “Just let go.”

Running into the night. The earth is shaking and I see a light.

With the darkness claiming you and the ground beneath you quaking with wrath, the howls of the damned echoing through a familiar hall, the world swaying on its axis, you had no choice but to suffocate your fear, to shutter your eyes closed on the light that seeped through the crack in the walls, warm against your skin in the cold dread of night.

She’s giving up.

She’s fighting.

She wants to die.

She wants to live.

The yellow-gold exploded across the backs of your eyelids, streaking like fireworks along the pitch black. Your skull still throbbed in pain, and your lips parted, the sound of a window banging against old hinges as death whispered to you through the alleys, the sewers, the hallways.

Next time.

Jonathan’s touch met your clammy palm, and the world fell silent, the walls disappearing around you and the emptiness of air spilling around your limbs.

I’m here, he reminded you.

The light is blinding my eyes, as the soft walls eat us alive.

Your eyelids peeled back to reveal the checkered, rose pattern of your wallpaper, the bright fluorescents of the bathroom, the blue eyes that bore into your own past silver frames. Slivers of ice encroaching on ink black pupils, cold and calculating yet echoing a familiar warmth.

He loosened the makeshift tourniquet from your arm, pins and needles racing from your fingertips to your elbow. A syringe of your favourite poison lay on the bathroom tile, beige powder swirling in a sea of saline.

“Come back to me. Come back to me, please,” he begged, as if for this moment alone, he allowed himself to believe in the higher power you knew he cursed.

Water seeped into your clothing like the sea of pitch, spilling from the bathtub that you had left on. It carried little rivulets of crimson around a minefield of glass. He didn’t seem very concerned with turning it off right now, despite always bitching at you about saving electricity or water. His eyes were on you, and only you.

“Jonathan,” you mumbled weakly, though you thought you screamed; your eyelids fluttered and your heart pounded faster in your chest as the darkness threatened to spill across your vision again. Your nails dug past the fabric of his suit, gripping his arm tight so that he could never let you go.

“I’m here,” he breathed, and reached his other hand around your neck to cup your head, to bring you forward. You glimpsed the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, bloodied where you’d tried to steady yourself with your hand after you’d bashed your skull against the mirror – your ineffectual attempt to cast the demons out. Glass shards lay scattered against the tile. Fragments of your broken reflection.

You still remembered the haunted look you’d hoped to banish from your eyes.

“You have to get your head out of that place,” he murmured against your scalp, his fingers bloody and sticky as he brushed shards of glass from your hair, seemingly immune to the pain. “You’re not in hospital anymore. You’re here. With me. You have to come back to me.”

Your lower lip trembled. “I can’t escape them,” you admitted, voice a mere whimper. “I can’t escape it. You’re here to take me back, aren’t you? You’re gonna lock me up.”

For a moment, you really thought that he might; his palm still rested, warm and bleeding, against your cheek, but his cold blue eyes studied you not as his lover but as his patient, assessing your condition. He sighed, as if disappointed. Shame crawled its way beneath your skin like the cockroaches that had infested the asylum’s lower wards. You had always been so desperate for his approval, he rarely saw this side of you since your rehabilitation. It wasn’t until slivers of ice shattered into twin pools of blue fire that relief began to seep into you, slow and warm but whelming.

“No. No, I’m not,” he said, voice gentle, soothing. Blue eyes glanced to your head again. “Though, you are showing symptoms of a concussion…”

Your heart sped in your chest, and the icy talons of death speared your soul, the darkness hedging the borders of your vision. Innerved by your fear, you reached for the bottle of tiny white pills that lay open, haphazard next to you. But the warmth of his hand left your face, and your fingers clenched around nothing. In a blur of movement, Jonathan threw the bottle at the toilet and it clattered against the back of the seat. You jolted, gasping, wincing as the jagged teeth of the beast sliced through your clothing.

“You prescribed me those,” you told him. “They’re supposed to make me better. You said so yourself.”

“I’ll fill you a new prescription tomorrow. Taper you off. They were no good for you,” he said, and laced his fingers through the bloodied locks of your hair. Pulled your forehead to his so that your breaths became one, and the demons in your skull grew muffled, and his warmth chased away the icy touch of death.

“What am I gonna do?” you whimpered, sobbing, hands grasping feebly at whatever you could grab hold of – his sleeve, his tie, his collar. You felt as if your soul, your mind, were laying in fragments around you like the glass, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t piece them back together. “I just want to be free. I just want to be okay.”

“I know.” He inhaled, closing his eyes, and his grip tightened on your hair, scalp stinging slightly at the almost needy action. Like in this moment he was more afraid of losing you than you were him.

Even he thinks she’s a lost cause.

And Jonathan was never one to utter false truths; because you knew this about him, his silence unnerved you. But finally, after what could’ve been hours or minutes of your pitiful sobbing and the endless drone of the tub, the trickling of water against the tile, he said,

“I’ll be right here, darling. All you need to do is take my hand.” The warmth of his palm slotted into your own, and you wove your fingers so tight that your knuckles turned white around the blood that trickled down both your wrists from the jagged glass that barbed your flesh. A seal. A pact.

“I will see you through this,” he said. “All of it. I promise.”

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

Please let me know if you would like to be added/removed to any of my taglists and notified of new works!

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @zablife @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @brummiereader @mrkdvidal1989 @fiercelittlemouse @ohwellthatslifesstuff @purplesnorlaxplush @drcranessweetestdoe @goblinjnr @mizzbel @s0urmarvel @onasmoko @elenavampire21 @rysko @chris-seb-marvel @muhahaha303 @novemberschy @thatonesinglefriend @forgottenpeakywriter @your-nanas-house @onehornedbeast @kiss-me-cill-me @ilovefictionalpsychopaths @birminghamshelbyboys @sometimes-i-sing @olivialveshbc @urlivingdeadgirl @kadethomes @iwannadie07 @persephonaoflove @ssweetleaf @a-nemoiia @cillianhead

#jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane x you #scarecrow x reader #jonathan crane angst #jonathan crane imagines #jonathan crane fanfic #jonathan crane fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy #nolanverse #arkham #the dark knight #dc #batman #s: yellow light

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trixter-god · 3 days

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Self indulgent Arkham story where we get to find out what exactly happened to Crane.

Like we saw him get nabbed by Croc and then assumed he died until in AC when you find out that Crane somehow survived the being a chew toy. Then in AK we find out this man decided instead of fixing his mauled face to some “normal” he reconfigures his face himself to look like his mask.

TO LOOK LIKE HIS MASK.

Along with the facts he now hobbles/walks slower, he wears a leg brace, the sickly green/white/yellow coloring to his skin.

I want this man’s hospital report, x-rays included, I want before and after full body pics. along with both his and Waylon’s statements and any (if any) eyewitness accounts of watching john probably clawing himself out of the sewers like a zombie.

Johnathan Lauren Crane (not his real middle name) how you intrigue me so

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ao3statistics · 3 months

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Date of creation: 03.02.2024

The tag "Jason Todd is Red Hood" comes in at 6109 hits btw.

There were many results but I didn't just want to show the most popular ones, so I made a second chart. There are still more tags with less hits I didn't include in the second chart though.

I assume no guarantee or liability for the completeness, correctness and accuracy of this chart despite my best efforts.

Includes fanfictions in all languages available on Ao3, NOT English only.

More charts will follow. :)

Want to have a chart for different pairings, headcanons etc. in your favourite fandom? Send me an ask!

This cracked me up btw:

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sideeve · 4 months

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ARKHAM KNIGHT THOUGHT

the lock pick in your hand fumbles and falls out of your palm as you crouch in front of the last door until you saw freedom. "what are you doing, little bunny?" you freeze, your whole body suddenly not being able to move.

the heavy footsteps creep up on you. "i know my little bunny didn't want to leave me, did she?" he stops behind you. you slowly turn around, worried as you see a mini group of militia behind him. the arkham knight eyes the lockpick by your feet before picking it up, twirling it around in his fingers as he examines it.

"where did you get this, bunny?" he turns his head to you, his mask concealing his face. "answer me!" "i-i found it in one of the vents." you stutter. "one of my past bunnies must've left it." he pushes it in one of his many pockets, his attention on you again. "i'm feeling generous. don't disobey me again and we'll have a good day." he pulls you onto your feet again by your chin, his gloved index finger curled under your head.

"i have a meeting soon. i don't trust you to be on your own so you're coming with me." you looked down at your attire. you were wearing a red and black oversized sweater with some black socks. you weren't ready for a meeting. "i-i'm not wearing any good clothes." 'it'll do." he yanks you by your arm close to him.

"do we understand the basis of the mission?" the arkham knight's booming voice sounds throughout the whole room. the militia's eyes were all on you. the arkham knight was known for making abrupt decisions but him bringing you was unpredictable.

your plump ass was fit perfectly on his crotch. every time you tried to adjust your bare thighs on his rough military pants, you could feel his cock hardening. "i'm tired of you teasing me." he seethes in your ear before lifting the bottom of your sweater up to your waist. you hated that he never provided you with underwear. you were always walking around the quarters without any panties. but he loved it. he could take you whenever-wherever and no one could say anything.

he didn't care of how obvious he was being with you. he was so quick to pull out his cock from his fly before bending you over, plunging in you. "you see this?" he chuckles as he hears you whine. "this little bunny has tried to escape. we don't want that. do we, boys?" the room fills with 'no's. the arkham knight grips your waist as you grip his arms, needing to hold something as he abused your cunt in front of his soldiers.

"she's mine. if any of you touch her-shit!" he groans, throwing his head back as he slaps your ass. " you're 's fucking tight." he laughs before continuing his sentence. "if any of you touch her without my permission, i'll kill you." he pulls his gun from his side holder, pointing it around the room.

then his attention averts back to you. he would never admit to anyone but he's growing fond of you. every time he took you, he secretly took notes of what sent shivers down your spine, what made your walls flutter around his length. he yearned to make you feel good during intimate acts. so for you leave him after falling for you left a sick taste in his mouth. "say you love me." he begins to thrust harder. "you're-" he seethes, "you're all dismissed." he had taken notice of his men palming themselves at the sight of him taking you apart.

the men beeline out of the meeting room. most likely rushing to their bunkers to relieve themselves, storing this moment in their spank bank. "say it." his mask was now fully off, the 'J' scar saying hello to you. "i love you..." you moan. you felt a ring of arousal around the base of his cock as you both release, streams of hot white cum painting your walls. "kiss me." he pants. he couldn't get enough of you. he was insatiable.

he shoves his tongue down your mouth, the tip of his tongue not letting any part of your mouth be undiscovered. "you're not leaving me. i'm making sure of it." he pants, putting your cheek as he sees you drift off. "understand me?" you nod, your eyelids heavy. "good. 'cause fucking love you." he huffs, rubbing your ass before pulling out.

#arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #arkham knight fanfic #arkham knight fanfiction #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #jason todd smut #dc x reader

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intriq · 7 months

Text

Soulmate au jason todd fic

its here. like i promised. months ago, maybe. chap 1 is done. chapter 2 is underway. flower language for titles with meanings.

NOTE: This mixes the arkhamverse AND the lazarus pit together, so KEEP THAT IN MIND. i was like "haha omg what if i mixed the two together" and everyone was like "YES" and by everyone i mean this discord im in

will make a separate masterlist post for this, maybe. heavy emphasis on MAYBE.

might just smack it all onto my already existing masterlist post, who knows!

this fic will be a series of chapters and parts, and written to Isabella's Lullaby. From The Promised Neverland. enjoy :3

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎Blue Salvia

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ blue salvia; i think of you

When he was Robin, running around with Batman to fight crime on the streets of Gotham, he’d sometimes get distracted. By you, of course. Not that he could see you, but he could hear you.

Specifically, he could hear you whenever you sang to yourself. Your quiet little humming always made him smile, and he’d always get distracted listening to it.

“Jason, were you listening to anything I just said?” Bruce asks, and there’s most certainly an unamused look on his face behind his mask.

Jason is snapped from his daze, giving a sheepish grin as he just gives a silent answer of no, he was not listening. The only thing he’d been listening to was the humming of his soulmate, who always had a habit of singing to themselves when they were doing something or trying to fall asleep.

Getting distracted by the sound of your singing whilst he was patrolling Gotham with Bruce probably wasn’t the best idea, but he couldn’t help it. Your voice was always so pretty, after all.

Sometimes he’d get distracted in his classes, too.

When one day, Jason’s in his boring history class, back in those days when he was younger, he hears you humming again. He smiles, of course. How could he not?

You did have a truly pretty voice.

Or could it be more-so described as beautiful?

Either way, Jason’s focus is solely on your voice now, and not the history lesson the teachers spouting off. It’s nice, and it’s certainly something Jason would rather hear than whatever that teacher was spouting off as he forces himself to focus enough to actually finish the notes he was taking.

However your humming only lasts for a few brief minutes, and Jason is forced to suddenly listen to the teacher drone on and on about some particular subject he didn’t care to pay real attention to.

Even now as the Joker cackles in his ear, bringing the crowbar back down to hit his ankles, hard, Jason grits his teeth in pain for a moment. Before eventually it turns to gasps for air.

The only way Jason could even last and endure the endless torment the Joker put him through was by imagining you. Imagining what you might look like, that is.

After all, the first words you’d ever say to him in the future were inked like a tattoo in the skin of his arm. How could he not let his mind wander to try and put pieces of you together, like some sort of puzzle without a guiding image?

It had been awhile since Jason last heard you humming to yourself. Had you stopped singing entirely, or were you just busy as of late?

His gaze, despite the pain making his vision swirl into an unfocused haze, moves to look at his soul-mark. His soul-mark, which are the first words you’d ever speak to him.

Are you okay?

Those words. Three simple words. Words that gave him hope that someday he’d get out of this hellhole in Arkham.

“Get your head in the game, bird-brain!” Joker cackles, bringing the crowbar back down onto his leg again, making Jason grit his teeth and suck in a harsh breath of air, bringing him back to reality in a dizzying flash of pain. He’s hoping Joker didn’t notice just what specifically was distracting him, considering his Robin suit kept his soul-mark hidden.

But unfortunately for him, Joker had. “Something you wanna share, birdie?” Joker taunts, reaching a hand out to grab at the hem, where the glove covered the sleeves edge. Underneath which held your first words to him.

Are you okay?

Three little words. Words that helped him stay sure he’d make it out of here. Make it out of here to you.

Jason so badly wishes to close his eyes, block everything currently happening out when Joker spots his soulmark. Wants to forget everything when he hears Joker sadistic cackling when he reads those little words. “Ooh, got yourself a soulmate, huh? Maybe they’d like to join in on this little show, hmm? What do you think of that, bird-brain?”

Jason, for once in his life, hopes you don’t live in Gotham. That you don’t live anywhere near this shithole or anywhere Joker has power to find and reach you.

At night when Jason get’s some relief from the torment, the beatings, it’s quiet. He hates it. He’s never liked silence, and now he fucking dreads it. Makes him think about how everything hurts, how badly he wants everything to end. He’s on the verge of breaking, he can feel it. That last little cord that’s about to snap.

He’s so close to giving up.

And then, for the first time in what’s felt like years, he hears it. He hears you. You’re singing again. It’s soft and sweet, your voice. Just like every other time he hears it. Jason tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, to listen to that melody you’re almost always humming. It’s the same one every time.

But in the end, he can’t help the way his eyes droop, or how you manage to lull him to sleep like some child. Jason can’t help but be so easily soothed by your voice. Because for the first time in months, Jason is able to sleep.

And for the first time in months, it’s a restful sleep. One without nightmares. And he dreams of you, what you may look like.

For just a little while, he get’s a little reprieve from all this pain and anguish.

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

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lonelydaydreamsalways · 1 year

Text

You, Me, and The Space In Between- Arkham! Verse Jason Todd x female reader?? Oc?? Self insert?? Idk

Authors note!! Thank you guys for all the support you’ve given me, I hope you guys like this ! let me know if I should make this into a series or not!! Also I’m writing the character as female bc I know how to write female characters more than males.

Let me know if you see any grammar or spelling errors!

As always, I don’t own any of the characters in dc!

Enjoy my loves!!

Warnings:

honestly almost cried writing this but it’s so cute!!

Tag list : @cherryinsalemverse @skypperlegacy @poisonblessedwithbeauty @thesandsofelsweyr

Let me know down below if I missed anyone or if you want to be tagged! ❤️

Jason stops, and drops to a crouch next to an all too familiar gargoyle. It’s cracked in places, old and new, and Jason sees how time has withered away at the statue.

Below him, the bustling city continues, blissfully unaware of the future in store. Above, GCPD blimps float out of reach.

It’s just like he remembers.

Goosebumps rise on his arm, feeling a familiar tickle appear. Jason hurries, flipping the armor plating backwards. To watch, as her elegant cursive manifests itself.

It’s a special feature to the Arkham Knight suit he added. An idea which became ingrained in his head so long ago.

Cold feather like strokes bring him back to reality.

Strawberries

Blackberries

Apples

Lemons

Words materialize across his skin. He makes out the first few words. Recognization flashes across his face.

She’s writing a grocery list.

A grin stretches across his face at the mundane task. Reading off the groceries, Jason unconsciously memorizes items which are heavily underlined.

A gloved thumb softly glides over her penmanship.

“Angel…” He whispers to himself, pursing his lips together,” Wait for me, just for a little bit longer.”

Numbers quickly appear soon after. Some are immediately crossed out, replaced by a bigger number. Eventually, when she’s done adding it all up, he leaves the panel as is.

He stares at his arm, incredulously.

For over a year, she wrote to him. Everyday, without fail. Of course, he couldn’t tell when she wrote him, whether it was morning, noon, or night. But, that didn’t matter to him. His days didn’t revolve around the sun or the sky anymore. His life began to revolve around her.

Or, what was left of it, anyway.

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed, and lines appeared on his forehead.

I wonder what she wrote… What she managed to sprawl across her arms, day after day…Was it the same thing everyday? Or something new? How did she not give up on me?

Not once, did Jason Todd ever write back. And, still, she writes to him. Refusing to give up on him when everyone else has.

Jason scoffs, thinking back to his miniscule tenure as a Robin. When random writing and doodles ran wildly among his forearm for him to see.

He ignored them.

He refused to write back.

Jason would wring that fuckers neck If he could.

The adoption had just went through. Training hardly begun when the writing first appeared. Needless to say, Jason kept it to himself. Who knew if Bruce would keep him on this path, if he learned he had a soulmate out there, somewhere, waiting for him.

Jason wasn’t willing to risk that.

Sure, it was extremely comforting to know he wasn’t destined to be alone. But, that wasn’t the universes choice to make. It was his, and his alone.

The universe thought otherwise.

In the beginning, her writing vexed him. The day her writing first showed, Jason was sitting in the Wayne manor kitchen, mid bowl of cereal.

Dropping his spoon, Jason nearly choked. Jason clutched at his forearm, feeling the cool sensation of cursive letters materialize on his skin.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great love grows there

-William S.

Jason quit squirming. His heart began to pound, and he squinted his eyes.

No way…Jason thought to himself. Is this…what I think it is? A… A soulmate writing? What does that even mean? Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; Where little fears grow great, great l-

“Master Todd!”

“ Sorry!” Jason yelped, clutching his arm close,” I uh… I just missed my mouth, i uh… I’ll pick it up.”

Giving Jason a curious glance, Alfred sighed before going back to his newspaper.

“See to it that you do, Master Todd.”

That night, Jason searched the manors library to find the source of the quote. Coincidentally, it’s also where he found his passion for Shakespeare, Austen, and many other famous authors.

Days and nights passed before he got used to the little writings which would appear. Even longer, to ignore the urge to squirm around at the ticklish sensation. Constantly, Jason would fumble during training, drop a book he was reading, or clutch his arm and squirm like he was about to piss his pants.

Jason’s pretty sure Alfred had an idea as to what was going on. If he did, though, he didn’t say a word about it to him. Life continued as normal.

Until it didn’t anymore.

After that fateful night, which sealed his fate for over a year, Jason didn’t have the luxury to read what she wrote. Her writing stayed, safe, and painfully unread, under the weakened armor of his Robin uniform.

Honestly, the more he thinks about it, it’s a god damn miracle the psychopathic clown never found out. If he had…She would have been beyond fucked. There wouldn’t even have been a damn thing he could have done about it.

Joker wouldn’t have had just a Robin in his clutch, but a little birdie’s soulmate as well.

The clown would have had a fucking field day.

Clutching the skin of his left forearm, he raises both arms to his chest. He attempts to swallow spit. Borderline hyperventilating, he curls in on himself at the thoughts, feelings, and memories of it all.

He could only close his swollen eyes, to revel in the cold, almost ticklish feeling of her handwriting ghost across his skin. Inside, his heart warmed at her devotion.

The only times he would ever smile throughout his hell in Arkham.

A sigh of relief escapes his pale, chapped lips. In his his bloody, sleep deprived state, he could cry.

The only working bright fluorescent light in the room would cast an almost angelic glow around her. Light hovered atop her wavy brown hair, forming an almost halo.

He could never make out her face, always just a blur to him. That didn’t matter, though. Deep in his bones, Jason just knew it was her.

“You’re here…” Jason whispered, swallowing painfully.

“ I’m always with you, silly.”

The gentle teasing couldn’t help but escape her voice. Jason let out a faint smile at her words

“ I know, I know…” Jason agrees weakly.

“That looks like it hurts. It wasn’t there last time I was here…” She says to him.

His angel reaches her hand to his cheek, and Jason accepts, collapsing in her hand. His cheek, covered in blood, and an all too recent brand mark. The smell of burnt skin clouds the room, and flies are buzzing all around him. The brand, already turned black, with bits of damaged nerves dangling from his cheek. Yellow pus slowly oozes it’s way out.

Jason surrenders himself to her.

“Why don’t you ever write me?” She questions him softly, as butterfly kisses continue down his forearm.

He feels the familiar tingle, resisting the urge to twitch. Faintly, he smiles at her.

“You know I would if I could, Angel.” He barely says to her at last.

“ I don’t,” she starts, a teasing tone taking over her voice,” You never wrote me before…” She trails off, pouting.

“ I know, Angel,” He shudders out, writhing around pathetically in his wheelchair,” Why don’t you tell me what you’re writing?” He begs her.

She giggles at him, kneeling before him. Her wavy hair spills across his thighs and trail down the sides of his wheelchair. Gentle fingers trail up his thigh closest to her, carefully avoiding any bloody barbed wire.

“Now why would I do that?” She answers coyly.

“Because,” Jason starts, sucking in a breath,” Because I should have wrote to you before. And now…Now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”

“I wonder,” She starts, tilting her head to the side,” If one soul mate dies, and the other remains, will writing still show on the dead soul mate?”

Jason doesn’t respond, retreating to the murky depths of his mind.

His Angel lets out a small sigh.

“I’m sorry, that was really depressing to think about.”

The fluttering on his forearm stops, then starts again on his other one.

“ What do you want me to write?” She finally questions him, leaning her cheek against his thighs.

Jason lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Anything,” He whines to her, closing his eyes,“Everything.”

Jason keeps his eyes shut, waiting for a response.

“Angel?” He pleads desperately.

Only when the warm, fluttering sensation leaves his forearm do they fly open. He looks to his arm, begging for the ghostly touch of her.

“Angel?” Jason questions, jerking his head in all directions he can,” Where’d you go?”

Silence is his only response.

“Don’t do this to me, too!”He bites his lip, resisting the urge to cry.

“Angel? Please! Please don’t leave me in here alone!”Jason weakly cries out, attempting to raise his hoarse voice.

“Angel?” He quietly begs.

The fluorescent light above him flickers, and cockroaches scatter across the floor beneath him as his only response.

Authors note!

The quote used in the fic was by William Shakespeare, but I don’t remember which work of his.

It turned out shorter than I wanted but oh well. I really liked the idea of him hallucinating about her

Thanks for reading!❤️❤️

#jason peter todd #arkham knight jason todd #red hood #dark fanfiction #fanfic #red hood x oc #red hood x reader #jason todd x oc #Jason Todd x reader #Arkham Knight x reader #i tried #writing fanfic is hard #jason todd fanfiction

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krashoutluv · 2 months

Note

Can you write something with:

After a long night of casual light hearted talking, Reader eventually falls asleep. AK!Jason falls asleep next to Reader for the first time and is a little surprised when he wakes up? (Poor boy probably hasn’t had proper sleep for a while.)

my draft deleted itself the first time (lord give me one more chance.)

AND THEN IT NEVER FUCKING POSTED?? I STG IM SO SORRY ANON I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS FOREVER AGO. MY SHITTY ASS INTERNETTT 😭😭😭😭

Ak!Jason Todd falls asleep with reader for the first time!

Jasons witty remarks and your giggles filled the room, it was late night, he came back to your place early and got wrapped up in the madness of watching “Bullet Train.” Jason didn’t necessarily fill his time before he met you with catching up on movies, so this was an interesting change from what he was use to seeing as a teenager. At first he stood behind the couch, then becoming very fixated on the movie he decided to sit down next to you and watch slightly more comfortably.

To say the least, he enjoyed it. You knew he did when he started rewinding it, picking up on the small itty bitty details that foreshadowed the pursing events. When he picked up on a few of them while chatting with you, you two mutually agreed to just rewatch the movie. Halfway through he noticed a heaviness, his eyebags. Unfocusing on the movie he noticed another heaviness, you, asleep on his shoulder. Groggily deciding to move you once the movie ended, incase you woke up on your own from the cinematic gunshots and crashes. He refocused back on the movie, it interested him how something so simple could turn into an absolute comedic madness.

Yeah he fell asleep like ten minutes later.

…

“Happiness hangovers.” Jason hadn’t gotten use to such sudden bursts of positive emotion whenever he talked to you. It left him tired, more tired then one of those nights where he was running around tracking three different guys in the entirety of Gotham city. It left him depressed, he only realized how alone he was when he left you. But when his eyes fluttered awake, Jason was greeted with your body still on his shoulder, he felt okay. He hadn’t felt so simply good in such a long time. The sun was out, cars just starting to pile together in heaps of traffic, pigeons murmuring to each other. It was weird, he wasn’t tired. 8 AM could be read on your TV, could two hours of extra sleep really feel so good? Or was it you? He pinched his nose, his thoughts meshed into one as he tried to think coherently. He slipped you off his shoulder onto the couch, placing your head so gently on a pillow. Jason walked into your bedroom grabbing one of the sheets and returned back to you, tucking you in.

‘God, what am I gonna do now? Give them a kiss on the cheek?’ He paused. Seriously considered it. And then left.

…

REOPENING MY INBOX BC I FEEL HORRID. FOR NOT GETTING THIS OUT. IM SO SORRY.

#jason todd imagine #arkham knight jason todd #arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood x gn!reader #jason todd fluff #|| 🪼krash responds to u #🪼krash writes fanfic #skullkidwithsunglasses

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lambsouvlaki · 5 months

Text

Shelter from the Storm - Dangerous

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, mentions of violence, fluff

Word Count: 400

Summary: Jason knows she can defend herself, but she doesn't have to. Not while he's there to catch her.

Masterlist

Jason stood between her and a room full of bodies.

The attic stank of blood and burning rubber. The mercs’ armour wasn’t as sturdy as they must have hoped.

He holstered his gun and rolled a charred body over with his boot.

“This one’s dead,” he said.

“Fireballs do that,” she muttered.

He looked sidelong at her. She stepped gingerly around a body collapsed on the broken table. The concrete walls were riddled with bullets. She ran shaking hands through her messed up hair, and winced as it pulled on the graze at her hairline.

“You’re very willing to get lethal,” he said.

“Don’t give me that,” she snapped. “I have very little choice here. And I won’t be told to pull my punches by someone carrying multiple grenades. Someone who isn’t being actively hunted for profit, I might add.”

He smiled grimly. He picked up her jacket from the floor. One of the mercs had ripped it off her when trying to grab her. Jason put a bullet in that man’s head.

“I’m not telling you to make nice with your abusers,” he said. He held the jacket out for her, and slid it up her arms as she turned into it. He leaned down to speak in her ear. “When the moment of truth comes, if you can’t put those animals in the ground, I’ll do it for you.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. He didn’t know why she looked surprised. Didn’t she know? He would carve through as many of them as it took to keep her safe.

“Oh.” The wall that normally lurked in her eyes wasn't there.

“I can do it,” she said softly.

“I know. But you don’t have to.”

He gently adjusted her collar where it was rolled over itself. He didn’t know if she meant that or the fighting. He didn’t know if he did either.

His knuckles grazed the bare skin of her collarbone.

Her breath hitched.

He blinked at himself and turned away.

He pushed one of the blinds aside and looked out into the compound below. He could see them starting to move.

“They’re more dangerous than they look,” she said.

He glanced back and saw her retying her hair, all business once again.

“So am I,” he said and drew his sniper rifle.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #dc #Shelter from the Storm #akjason #arkham knight

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literallywtflol · 1 year

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Jason Todd Drabble

MINORS DNI | Dom!Jason, Sub!reader, afab!reader, not proofread (cause i planned it to be short), Jason is a bit of an evil tease here

Imagine..

Jason Todd has you under him as he slowly kisses your neck and plays with your clit, making you whimper softly.

He slowly dips a finger in to give you relief, but within a good 3 thrusts he pulls out, just to hear you desperately begging him for more.

He sits up and hoists you onto his waist, his large hands resting on your hips as he helps you grind on him.

The pace? Totally in his control.

He goes antagonizing slow just to hear your little whines, pleading for him to go faster.

Bad idea though, cause that just makes him want to take it even slower.

He'd tease you verbally too, lowering his voice a hella amount of octaves to get you writhing and shaking on top of him..

"Don't beg for me baby, you know I won't give it to you."

"You're so cute like this; All needy and groveling for me."

"You're crying? Why, 'cuz it's too much? You're so pathetic, baby."

"Be a good girl and hold out for me a little while longer, yeah?"

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