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flamingpudding · 3 months

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I love your writing so much but I'm here with a crack idea just imagine deage Dan is Klarion.

Dan was able to find out who he is outside of Danny then he was able to change his name Klarion Jackson Fenton/Nightingale he is still a little villain boy also now a mom boy.

Ghost King Danny is his mom young justice was so confused when Klarion you're the best gifts get your mom after not talking to him for a while to also begging them to pretend to be his friend . Justice League dark is panicking in the background about the electric being that just shows up.

Danny in full ghost king attire standing there with a plate of cookies ready to meet his son's new friends.

Thanks so much! I am glad you enjoy my writing!

Also thanks because I absolutely love this Idea/Prompt! Sooooo please enjoy this piece inspired by it! Also I haven't consumed a lot of DC material lately so i am basing this all on my memories. In other words.... I went with Tim's little team here.

Hope that's okay and that this won't disappoint.

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Dan, who was going by Klarion for some years now, had a massive problem. It was the huge kind of problem build on small bubbles of lies that then turned into this one giant bubble that was about to pop just because of one little question asked by his mom when his sister decided to throw him under the bus to deflect from herself and the fact that she was dating a demon. Don't get him wrong he still loves her, but man did he want to strangle Danielle right now.

"So Klarion, Ellie is right. When will I get to meet your friends you told me so much about?"

It was such an innocent question from his mom. And while his moms titles don't scare him, cause at some point in time they could have been his too, the happy dopey smile like nothing was wrong in the dimensions with little expectations directed at him was the scariest thing his mom could ever direct at him when he had asked THAT question.

So now Klarion was in need of a quick solution. When his mom had asked he had mumbled out a quick: "Next week maybe. We won't be busy with hero stuff then." He had started to form a plan. First of all, he needed to remember what all he had told his mom about his new and redeemed life on Earth 43 he had build for himself with the name Klarion Jackson Fenton-Nightingale.

Which fuck. There was a lot he had told his mom just so he wouldn't worry.

Cause now he also remembers that whenever he had gone out to cause some chaos he had made it seem to his mom like he was going out to bond with his new friend or help them with their hero duty. Well, in a way maybe his chaos causing could be seen as bonding. The ghostly kind, that is. And as for helping with the hero duty... he did give them work, something to do with their hero status. Anyway Klarion tried to remember all possible names he had dropped. Shit why did he also mention to his mom that he was working with heroes to make her proud? He should have name dropped some villains instead but nearly all of them were adults. He knew his mom would have frowned if he had only adult friends and no one around his age.

He was pacing his room in their castle. He need a plan, a good one at that. He knows he name dropped Robin, now Red Robin, Superboy and Impulse on a whim once. Superboy more so cause his mom had been interested in the Alien Heros of the Earth of the dimension he was partially living on now. He had mentioned Robin for the joke of knowing that there is a Dinner in an other Dimension with the same name. And because his Grandfather didn't like the Flash-clan which meant his mom didn't like them too much because of their messing with timelines either, he had mentioned being friends with Impulse on pure spite because of a punishment one day and to see their reactions. So he had to get these three on board anyway, and because for the heck of it he would get Wonder Girl involved too. It was never bad to have a girl in a friends group.

Klarion stopped his pacing. Turning towards his demonic ghost cat companion, kind of what Cujo was to his mom now. "Teekl, I think I have a plan. I will convince these Idiots, that shouldn't be a huge problem. Most of them are normale little flesh sacks." Teekl and him stared for some time at each other and after a moment Klarion huffed turning away with crossed arms. "It's a good plan don't be so sceptical, they are heroes right? They will not refuse my request!"

Well maybe Klarion should have planned this a bit better.

The next day Red Robin blinked at the witch boy up from the ground in the living room of what looked like to be an normal apartment. He had just been in Gotham, working on a case and now he was here? Looking to the left he also noticed that Superboy (the older), Impulse and Wonder Girl were also with him. They all looked stunned he observed and partially disoriented. Additionally they hadn't heard from Klarion since the last time they had foiled his plans on raging chaos upon the earth, that had been weeks ago.

"Kla-"

"I have summoned you heroes here. For the moment it is fruitless to try to leave because of the magic barrier." Okay rude to be cut of but that explained why he suddenly wasn't where he remembered to be last anymore. It was now Superboy who opened his mouth first but before he could even make a sound Klarion decided to speak over them again. "I have presents."

Four young heroes collectively blinked, confused, stunned and weirded out. As the which boy before them waved over to wards a table filled with boxes and packages. "I come in peace today, to proof that I brought these are presents, filled with various goods from different dimensions that should be to the liking of you all. Technologie, accessories, snacks, weapons, as well as clothing styles."

Red Robin shared a glance with his friends, a silent communication but before he once again could say anything Impulse was already by the table going through the stuff. They could here his 'oh's and 'ah's, which inevitably made them curious and they wandered over too. Klarion was not acting hostile at all yet but Red Robin did not trust that so he kept the which boy in clear view the entire time.

"Rob! You gotta see this! That actual futuristic Tech!"

"Look at these snacks."

"These accessories don't look to bad..."

His eye twitched when he noticed Klarion was sporting a smug look. Red Robin had to ask now, because this was not normal for the other. "Okay usually you would have started some big shot chaos plan by now. I don't buy this peace offering act and your way to formal talking. So what is going on?"

The other three, thankfully in Red Robins opinion, finally looked away from the tempting gifts and also turned their attention fully on Klarion. Who's smug smile falter as he let out a sigh and stared at them with what they could only describe as a frustrated look.

"My mom is planning to visit me."

"And?" Impulse asked between munching on three different bags of chips that where on the table.

"And he believes I am friends with you idiots."

They stared slack jawed. Impulse was pinching himself like he couldn't believe what they had just heard. Did one of their Villains, just informed them that their mom believes they were friends? Red Robin was starting to think he might be in a sleep deprived Hallucination.

"Why would she?" Wonder Girl questioned next to which Klarion glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"First of, my mom uses the pronouns he/Him. Be rude to my mom and I will find a way to make your life a permanent hell on earth." Wonder Girl blinked lifting her hands as in a sign of peace. "Second, my mom is under the believe that i work with heroes not against them. I do not have the heart to disappoint him after everything that happened in the past. So I embellished the truth a little."

"A little?" Superboy retorted sarcastically, to which they caught a light blush dusting the which boy's cheeks.

"Look my sister threw me under the bus and my mom wants to meet my friends now! So I need you idiots to play nice with me for when he visits!"

"And we will do that because?" Red Robin crossed his arms, watching their villain sceptically still not really buying this entire act. This was to strange of an behaviour change. Something was up, and he was going to get behind it.

Klarion on the other hand was starting to panic internally. His plan was not as he had hoped. The presents he had specifically gotten from other dimensions with what he believed was their interests did not work to make them simply accept his request. This was the last time he would listen to old man Vlad on how to bribe humans, he wasted his entire week on getting all that stuff. His mom was going to show up soon enough he need to have them act as his friends by then so he could remove the magic barrier. Or else his mom would notices he faked everything.

They left him no choice. He would have to throw his pride away for the sole reason to not disappoint his mom.

All four Young Justice Heroes blinked as Klarion suddenly threw himself on the ground before them into a pleading position.

"Please! I beg you, just for the time my mom is here. Please act like my friends!"

"I didn't think Klarion was a mama's boy...." Impulse whispered to the rest of them in pure disbelief as they stared stunned at the kneeling witch boy.

Cut to the heroes that noticed their teens were missing.....

"Where is he?" Batman growled at the Constantine who was sighing tiredly.

"Look mate, the way you and the other Spandex wearing friends explained it, made it sound like they got summoned by a being of the Infinit Realms." The blond man sighed lighting another cigarette eying the four heroes, Batman, Superman, Wonder Woman and Flash. Zatanna was behind him pouring over a book about the realms and trying to find a tracking spell to trace it back and to where they could have been summoned.

"Don't you have something like a tracker on your boy?" Batman only growled something under his breath to which the Brite couldn't help to arch and eyebrow. Constantine was going to say something sarcasting as Deadman suddenly appeared a panicked look on him. "The Ghost King has chosen to come to our dimension."

"Say bloody what now?" All attention that had been on the heroes and their problem of missing teenage heroes turned now to Deadman and the news he brought with him. "The ghost, shades and spirits talked, for the king has decided to visit our Dimension. They are in an uproar, no one knows of why our King is on his way."

"Bloody fucking hell!" Constantine cursed. "We are fucking screwed! Isn't that guy a fucking tyrannical eldrich war maniac?!"

Deadman nodded solemnly and Constantine uttered another hearty and colourful 'fuck'. While the heroes present exchanged worried glances, not only were their kids missing but now a, by the sounds of it, highly dangerous being decided to appear in their dimension? Batman couldn't help but think that there had to be a connection to the missing teens and this.

Meanwhile in the Infinite Realms the Ghost King Castle...

Danny smoothed out his fur trimmed cape and adjusted his crown so it was floating nicely and evenly on his head. Today was the day he would get to meet his sons friends. He needed to make a good first impression. That was why he had chosen to take on his Ghost King form for this. With the wave of his hand he made an ice mirror appear before him, checking how he was looking once again. Once satisfied he nodded to himself looking over towards Fright Knight who was holding the plate of cookies he had baked himself. It was the fifth batch, and the only one that didn't turn out burned. He had needed Jazz help for this one to turn out well. It was only proper if he brought some cookies for the kids. Also he would have loved to bring his families fudge but... the last time he had tried making them had turned into a disaster.

"Thanks Frighty. Do you think Klarion's friends will like these? Wait don't answer! If they don't like them I will just get something else to thank them for taking care of my boy." Danny rambled on as he glanced at the plate of cookies in his hands. Why was he so nervous? He was just going to get to meet his little boy's friends. Sure his boy had dropped some stories about them and his adventures with them here and there. But hearing stories and meeting the kids were two different things.

Shaking his head Danny put on his best smile as he summoned a portal to Klarions apartment in the 43th Dimension of Earth. It was time to visit his boy in the place he had made his second home and thank the people that looked after his kid.

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toast-on-dandelioms · 5 months

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Disclaimer

I am not the biggest fan of dc but I do know the story and everything, so if any character from the batfamily is wrong please tell me so I will try to fix it.

Another story of Neglect

You were another one of Bruce's children, born by one of his nightstands with a model to which he just gave child support and didn't really visit.

You never cared, you didn't even know that he was your father since you were happy with just your mom and the life you were living at the moment, but everything changed because of a stupid drunk driver that ended up crashing the car against your mom's one and killing both of them at the impact. You were only 12 and your life just changed in one night.

You had no one else, or at least no one that could take you in since everyone was busy or couldn't be bothered to have another mouth to feed so you ended up in front of Wayne's Manor, two suitcases full of stuff plus all the boxes from your old room and house that you managed to save from the relatives who tried to grab everything valuable in the house.

After getting in your room and setting everything up, making sure your photos with your mom and you were safe and sound, you tried to interact with your new family, wanting to make the best out of a bad situation but you didn't think that they would be so different from what you saw in the media.

•Bruce Wayne: you heard that he was a playboy but very nice to his kids, you saw how he looked at Damian or Dick, a look full of love and adoration that your mom used to give it to you.

But to you, he looked at you like you were just a nuisance that wasn't supposed to be here, he made sure to tell you the first day that you came here to not expect much since he wouldn't have the time to take care of every small needs and to just tell him or Alfred if you wanted to do something out of the school activities since you would be changing schools.

You tried to interact with him, to learn from what he likes so you could just try and hold a conversation with him but he always left you behind for another one of his kids that needed him at the moment, leaving you there with a small smile and just a small light of hope that maybe he will come back to talk to you.

But he never did.

•Richard/Dick Grayson: you thought he was the nicest big brother you ever seen, especially from what you saw him talking or playing with Damian, Tim or even Jason.

(You did find out pretty soon that they were the famous vigilantes since they didn't really keep it hidden from you, especially since you saw them in costumes and even training while they ignored you or didn't even notice your presence.)

You tried to talk to him but he was just like Bruce, leaving you for Damian mostly or using any excuse to not spend time with you.

Even when you tried to ask him to do some acrobatics since you knew he was from the circus, he just gave you an excuse 'sorry but it's been a while since Damian and Tim saw me and I wanted to go out with them, maybe next time (wrong/name)", leaving you before you even had the time to correct him about your name.

•Jason Todd: honestly he was the most decent family member, second to Alfred who treated you better whenever you were left alone, since he just straight up told you that he didn't care and to not bother with him.

You did try a few more times, thinking he was one with a tough exterior but a softie inside, thinking that he just needed time but him accidentally punching you in the face and leaving you with a black eye from you walking up behind him made you understand that he didn't care, especially with the way that he looked at you with an annoyed expression before walking away.

At least you didn't have to spend months trying to gain his favor, he already made it clear that he didn't care about you.

But it still hurts you know?

• Tim Drake: he was the only one you couldn't really put a pin on who he really is, not of some double life or something like that.

It's just that sometimes he would act nice, talking to you but the next time you would see him, even if the time passed between the two intervals could be of 1 hour, he would act like you were an annoying thing or would just ignore you.

You understood that he was sleep deprived and just started leaving him some candies that could help him sleep, wanting to help in a small way, especially since he was the only one you could actually help a little.

And the last, but especially the worst one was none other than Damian Wayne/al Ghul since he first acted like you were gonna steal something from him, especially considered that you were a year or two older than him.

He harassed you, using his animals or just his assassin skills to torment you for years even though you never gave him reasons to do so.

Not more than once you had to patch yourself in the bathroom because of his harassment, the scars still visible but luckily in places you could hide so no one would question you for them.

After two or three years he finally stopped and went to be one of the family members to give you attention to completely ignore your existence, acting like you weren't even someone worthy of his attention.

You always wanted to just hit him back but it would be relatively impossible to even try to land a hit on him because of his assassin training that he had.

But one thing you still had that connected you to your old life, to when you were happy and still with someone who loved you was dancing, which you still went to practice everyday and tried to invite your family but everyone was either busy or straight up told you that they didn't care.

Only Alfred would show up but it was also rare, but it would fill your heart with joy everytime you saw him in the audience of whatever ballet you were casted in, even if you weren't the main protagonist and just a side character.

You also tried to be the best in school, just to show it to Bruce and make him proud like your mother was whenever you were in the top but with a family filled with geniuses like Tim Drake and Damian Wayne, it was difficult to even compare to them.

But every day, you still had hope that maybe, if you opened the doors of your heart they will finally enter and make you part of the family.

That you can finally be accepted again, and maybe even join them in their vigilante jobs but alas, they always had excuses, excuses and even more excuses.

You were getting tired of all their excuses.

After a while you understand that maybe the problem is not you, it never was.

You opened up many times in the past years. You gave them every piece of your broken heart to hold but they would always break it in even more little pieces.

But, not everything always goes to plan does it?

So, instead of continuing to try, you also decided to ignore them back and live your life, counting the days of your eighteen birthday so you could finally get out and be free from the mansion you were supposed to call home.

Part 2 is here!

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #batboys x reader #dc universe #spiderman #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere batman #yandere dc

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sundrop-writes · 4 months

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Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster.

Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you’re both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it’s very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

...

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It’s a newer song, and it’s one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone’s emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don’t have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

This is another re-post from my old blog, and I do have a sequel for it in my drafts, which I am not actively working on. And before I post the sequel, I do plan on tweaking this and revamping it a little, but I figured I would repost this for now just to have the masterlist complete on this blog.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.

…

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.

“Who are your friends?” He asked.

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.

“No way.” You scoffed.

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.

“I am.” Dick said firmly.

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.

…

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.

You had no clue that you’d end up living together.

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.

…

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”

“Shut up.”

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.

…

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.

…

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.

But you would never admit that he was right.

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.

You just glared, and he smirked once more.

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.

“I know.” You grinned at him.

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.

…

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.

…

Hectic.

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.

So you took the leap.

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.

“You need this treated.” He added on.

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.

“Jason-”

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.

But of course, he cut you off.

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.

But, no dice.

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.

Jason sighed through his nose.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.

…

Dick explicitly told you to stay put.

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Jason!”

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.

…

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.

‘Maybe I just have to care.’

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.

“It’s nothing.” You told him.

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.

Jason shook his head at this statement.

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.

“I meant what I said.” You told him.

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.

He didn’t find any.

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.

…

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.

Panic flooded you.

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.

“Don’t move!” He shouted.

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.

He thought he was a dead weight to your life.

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.

You ignored him.

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.

But of course, you refused.

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.

So Jason did what he had to do.

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.

…

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.

“All done.” He said quietly.

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.

You felt your heart sink.

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.

It was something else.

It had to be something else.

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.

And now he was trying to back down from that.

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.

You were both so vulnerable.

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.

He knew that it would break him.

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

PLEASE NOTE: I do have a sequel in mind for this, but I don't know when I am going to have it finished and posted. Please do not ask me to write more of this or ask me when the sequel will be coming. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work here that I have already written.

#sundrop writes #dc titans #titans fanfiction #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction #jason todd #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Text

Honeymoon Suite

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!vigilante!reader

Summary: Batman sends you and Dick undercover as newlyweds. At the end of the mission, neither of you want things to change.

Warnings: fluff, possible OOC, brief mentions of insecurity, reader wears a bikini once

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

A/N: Reader is a vigilante but there's no fight scenes or anything, it's more just gathering data for Bruce! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think or if you have any DC requests! :)

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info

This isn't necessarily Titans!Dick, I just like this gif!

“Since when do you investigate recently paroled convicts?” you ask, looking out over Metropolis. “This seems like more of Clark’s thing. Literally, journalist Clark could do this far easier.”

Bruce sighs, and you smile. You can exhaust him from miles away.

“Because he started in Gotham, and I want to make sure he doesn’t come back,” Bruce answers.

“And I’m still in sunny Superman-city, why? Our boy bought a plane ticket three hours ago.”

“Until he goes to the airport, I want your eyes on him.”

“And then what? He disappears, free to con people who don’t have a Batman?”

“You do it on purpose,” Bruce accuses. “If you’re done asking questions, I’ve got news.”

“Also Clark’s thing,” you quip.

“Never mind. You can stay in Metropolis.”

“You love me, Bats. I’ll stop; tell me.”

“Against our better judgment, we all do.”

You smile, remembering the first night you put on a mask and took to the streets of Gotham. One of your best friends had been permanently altered by Scarecrow toxin, and you were done being scared in your own home. The same week, before you really grasped just how dangerous what you were doing could be, you ran into Robin. Batman wasn’t with him, but you soon met him, too. Robin was your age, reckless, and had a heart-stopping smile, so when he asked you to stay with him, you agreed. Batman reluctantly agreed, likely more interested in getting you off the streets than anything. After a few months, Dick trusted you enough to remove his domino mask, and Bruce sighed as he followed suit. Your relationship with Dick, both in and out of the Robin suit, made you part of two families: The Waynes and the Bats and Birds of Gotham. Every new addition to the family and the team pushed you and Dick closer, and you know what your feelings toward him are, but you have to remind yourself daily that losing him isn’t worth getting it off your chest.

“Still there?” Batman asks.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m here,” you answer quickly, standing as you watch the sun go down.

“There’s going to be a slight detour on your way back.”

“Just tell me it’s somewhere warmer than Gotham,” you joke.

“Much. Nightwing – Dick – will meet you at the airport.”

You want to laugh at the strain in his voice as he says Dick’s name, but your attention catches on another word.

“Airport?”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Welcome to paradise, babe,” Dick greets, pulling you into a warm hug as you walk through the airport doors.

“Thanks,” you murmur, closing your eyes and letting him envelop you completely.

He keeps an arm over your shoulders, leading you to an expensive rental car. After tossing your small bag in the back, he holds your hand over the console, looking into your eyes and smiling.

“I have a question,” he begins. You nod, and Dick’s smile grows. “Will you marry me?”

Your eyes widen as you tell yourself that it’s for the mission.

“A thousand times yes,” you answer, watching Dick slide the ring onto your left ring finger.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Your hand remains in Dick’s as he begins driving, your dream life with him coming to life around you.

“I checked in when I got here this morning. The honeymoon suite is nice,” Dick says distractedly.

“Honeymoon suite?” you repeat.

Dick hums, and you lower your gaze from his profile to the ring on your finger. It’s going to be a long few days.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Your suitcase is in the closet,” Dick says, leading you into the small cottage with a hand on your back. He sees your confused look and laughs. “I packed a few things for you, I didn’t think you’d have beachwear with you in Metropolis.”

“Thank you.”

Dick lays back on the bed, propping his head up on his hands as he watches you open the closet.

“There’s a white bikini in there that I’m pretty proud of. I think it’s a better choice than you would have made.”

You roll your eyes before looking at the beachy pastels, sundresses, and swimsuits filling the bag. Dick chose things you have always wanted to wear but never felt good enough to buy for yourself. Losing your focus, you finger through the different fabrics, jumping slightly when Dick’s arms wrap around your waist.

“We have dinner reservations tonight, so pick a good one,” he whispers.

“Looks like they’re all good ones.”

“I have excellent taste,” Dick replies with an absent-minded tap to your wedding ring.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Good evening,” Dick greets the couple sharing a table with you. He pulls your seat out, keeping his hand in yours as he sits beside you.

“My, you two are just the most handsome couple I’ve ever seen,” the woman exclaims, leaning toward you. “You picked a fine one, didn’t you, dear?”

You glance over at Dick and smile. “I sure did.”

Dick’s thumb runs over your knuckles, and you let yourself go in the act. Losing yourself, you adopt this character of being a wife to the man you’ve loved for years.

As you eat and talk to the other couples celebrating engagements, weddings, and anniversaries, you lean against Dick’s side, playing with his fingers. After one particularly romantic comment about your eyes, you raise Dick’s hand to your lips, kissing the knuckle below his ring. He turns toward you with a big smile, pecking your forehead before pulling you closer. You could get used to this, which is incompatible with an undercover mission.

✯✯✯✯✯

The proximity is killing you. Dick is so close that you could touch him, and you do, but you try to show some restraint. You set boundaries long ago, including one stating that you would never kiss one another purely for Batman’s never-ending mission. Your firm position on that boundary wavers more with each moment. This island is doing something to you, and you’re terrified that it will ruin your relationship with Dick.

Every time Dick smiles at you or takes your hand, running his finger over the fake ring on your hand, it’s like a glimpse straight out of your dream life. Right now, reclined on the beach in a bikini of Dick’s choosing, though, the dream falls apart.

“Dick,” you whisper, tapping your shoulder against his chest.

He pulls his hand away from your hair, a flower you didn’t see him pick braided into a small section of your hair.

“There’s our guy,” you mumble after he hums, pointing with your chin.

“He coming toward us?” Dick asks, running a sandy hand over your arm.

“Not right now. If he’s looking for the same kind of victim as in Gotham, we’re going to have to set a trap.”

“How?”

You turn toward him, frowning as you answer, “Get in a fight and let me storm off.”

Dick’s eyes drop away from yours before nodding. “Not yet,” he mumbles. “It has to look real.”

“Dinner?” you ask, brushing his hair back.

His eyes flutter closed as he nods, aware that the social setting will make enough of a scene. That doesn’t mean Dick wants to do it, though, nor is he sure about using you as bait.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Do I look okay? This fits weird,” you complain, tugging the white sundress down on the sides.

Dick appears behind you, holding your wrists still as he meets your eyes in the mirror. He pulls your back to his chest, looping his arms over your waist.

“You look beautiful – you are beautiful,” Dick whispers. “So beautiful that I don’t know if I can yell at you.”

“We can change the plan. Pretend like we’ve been arguing all afternoon in private, and I can just choose a moment to storm off,” you offer.

“I don’t want to fight with you at all,” Dick amends.

“Hey.” You turn in his arms, looping yours over his shoulders. “This isn’t real, okay? I will never treat you like this.”

Dick nods, dropping his head to press his forehead against yours.

“Promise?”

You nod, dragging a finger along Dick’s jaw. “I promise.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Yeah,” you mumble, fiddling with the napkin in your lap. “I got it earlier.”

Dick made a passing comment about working with others, glancing toward you at the end, and you took the opportunity to start a fight. The target, Bruce’s con man, is several tables away, but his eyes are on you. Dick’s eyes drop, and you desperately want to cup his chin and apologize.

“Working with women can be hard though,” someone says, continuing the conversation.

“It certainly can,” Dick agrees.

You stand up, silently tossing your napkin onto the table before you walk out. Navigating through the crowded tables, you take a deep breath when you exit and hear footsteps behind you.

“’Scuse me?” he asks.

You slow before you stop, turning toward him and wiping an imaginary tear.

“I’m sorry, I overheard and just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I’m a marriage counselor and I wouldn’t feel right about leaving you here upset.”

“I’m fine, or I will be,” you answer, slightly impressed with how easily he slipped into the lie. “It’s just frustrating to be married, and I wasn’t expecting it to be so different.”

“Marriage counseling is a great option even for newly-weds. I actually have a pay by the appointment service here on the island, if you’re interested.”

“Oh, really? That- actually, yeah, that sounds amazing. What do I need to do?”

“$1,000 cash, up front, and then you can come by anytime.”

“Soliciting for a false business is illegal,” a resort security guard says as he approaches. “I’m going to need to take you to the office for questioning.”

“Really, me? Because her husband looks a lot like the Wayne kid from Gotham, not Gray Todd or whatever he said his name was,” the conman argues. “What about impersonation?”

Dick walks outside just as the security guard looks toward you.

“What’s going on out here?” Dick asks, laying his hand against the small of your back. “Are you okay?” he adds quietly.

You nod and press back against him gently. “This guy was trying to steal our money, apparently.”

“Someone called in a tip that he’s been posing as a marriage counselor,” the security guard fills in. “Though, do you folks have ID?”

Dick removes his fake ID from his wallet, and you’re surprised when he hands one over for you too.

“Your last names aren’t the same, are these up to date?”

“I haven’t gotten my updated license yet,” you answer. “We haven’t been married long.”

“Ask them questions separately and they won’t be able to answer. They’re the con artists, not me!” the conman cries.

“Maybe I should take you two in for questioning too.”

“On what grounds?” Dick asks with an incredulous chuckle. “What would I need to do to convince you we’re married? This is ridiculous!”

You glance over, and a crowd is gathering at the door, so you tap Dick’s side to alert him. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.

“I’d like to speak to your manager in the morning, but for now, are we free to go?”

The security guard also sees the crowd and hesitates before nodding. Dick leads you away and back toward the cottage but pulls you to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” you ask, looking over his face.

“People are still watching us and we need to keep this up or they won’t believe us,” Dick whispers.

“We’re leaving tomorrow. Does it matter?”

“If they think we’re not really married, they can’t prove anything about our guy. Then we just look like we lied to get a nicer cottage.”

You nod and ask, “So what do we do to prove it?”

Your arms are around Dick, you’re as close as physically possible, so you’re not sure what else you can do to look like you’re in love. Especially considering you are in love with him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers before raising his hand to the back of your neck and kissing you.

He picks you up, a strong arm under your hips as he carries you up the stairs. You grip his shirt at the collar, returning the kiss but refusing to deepen it. As Dick unlocks the door, you drop your head to his shoulder and glance at the dissipating crowd, only a few people left who don’t mind imposing on a private moment.

Once you’re inside and Dick sets you down, he steps back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know it was the one rule, but I didn’t know what else to do,” he rambles, carding his fingers through his hair. “Sorry.”

You hold a hand up to stop his pacing and shrug. “We had to. It’s fine.”

Dick nods, another whispered apology rolling off his tongue before he offers to let you use the bathroom first. When he steps back, that proximity you thought would break you is taken away, and you realize that is was holding you together all along.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk out of the bathroom, Dick is staring out the window. The dark beach holds his attention until he stands wordlessly. Then, when Dick returns from the shower, he doesn’t speak to you. Opening your mouth, you want to ask him something, say anything, but he sits at the far side of the king-sized bed and makes himself comfortable with his back to you.

The last few nights, you started on opposite sides of the bed but woke up with Dick’s arm over your waist and both of you in the middle. Those moments are being ripped away from you, though, and you’re not sure why. If it’s the kiss, you told him it was fine. Dick is usually the one ready and willing to talk about this kind of stuff, but he is shutting you out.

Hating the distance and craving his closeness, you whisper, “Are you mad at me?”

The answer is barely audible, a sigh of, “Of course not.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief, moving your hand to the middle of the bed like an olive branch. “Then what happened? I’m really not mad about the kiss, Dick.”

Dick rolls over, his eyes bright in the minimal light of the cottage as he takes your hand (again). “I don’t want this to end,” he confesses.

After contemplating what this could mean, you whisper, “It doesn’t have to.”

Dick sits up, pulling you in, slow and methodical as he kisses you this time. As he pulls you into his lap, you enjoy knowing that there’s no rush or fear or lies behind this, just you, Dick, and the love between you.

“Maybe we should get married,” he mumbles against your lips. “Bruce will pay for a few more days.”

You pull back with a breathless laugh. “And listen to your brothers after they find out you eloped? No thanks.”

“So, you won’t marry me?” Dick asks, looking up at you perched on his legs.

“I’ll marry you as many times as you want, Dick Grayson.”

“Different honeymoon suite each time?” Dick jokes.

You duck your head against his chest as he laughs, gladly letting him hold you close for one more quiet, slow night before you return to Gotham.

“We need to pack, our flight is at 10,” you remind him.

“Don’t forget the white one,” he says against your cheek, leaving kisses along your face.

You are returning to Gotham with something far better than a new bikini or souvenir: Dick Grayson’s love running through your veins and your heart safely in his hold.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bonus:

"It worked, Alfred."

"Excellent news, Master Bruce. Perhaps you could be the next to go on a trip and come back with a woman in your life."

#dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x fem!reader #dc comics x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fic #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson

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melinoelliones · 1 year

Text

You were on your first official “dream first date”, cuddled up watching cheesy romance movies. However Micah Yujin, the cocky little hacker you met 5 days ago, wasn’t being so cocky anymore.....

MINORS DNI/ AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ ANTI DC DNI/ 18+

Warnings: neck kisses, oral, dry humping, hickies, teasing, early ejaculation, grinding, cursing, slight face fucking, slight choking, whimpering

1.9K words

SECOND PIECE OF WRITING LESS GOOOOOOOO!! Again I am still new at this so please don't jump me LOL. I know there are many mistakes, weird wordings/story so on and so forth but oh well. I played Error143 a while ago with my friend group, and since then this man has been on my mind 24/7. Seeing him get flustered in game reminded me of this idea I had stored away for a fic which I felt would actually suit him nicely so here we are. Hope all the Micah lovers enjoy. On a serious note I have never written for a gender neutral reader so please let me know if I should change anything! Also I’ve used the nickname Angel as one of the names since that is what he uses in game!

The image of Micah was drawn by @kamuyagi on tumblr and twitter so check em out! I was given the green light to use their art so thank you again, it was lovely speaking to you :)

"You... actually like this stuff?", you could almost hear the smirk creeping up on Micahs face while pointing at the screen. "Some of us like to bake, others like to lie in bed and watch romance movies, problem?", you questioned while glancing over at him with a stern look, "no no, I have no issues here, was just curious is all Angel". He chuckled away while watching you turn back to face the TV, his chest now pressed against bare back as he was pulling you closer into him.

THE Micah Yujin was in your bed, cuddling up behind you, watching one of your favourite movies, it was almost unreal to you. Who would've known this would be the outcome of deciding to hack someone 5 days prior due to jealousy.

You could feel every ridge from his toned stomach as you both followed along with the movie, you both were down to just your underwear as he had suggested you guys "stay comfortable" since you were spending the day binge watching cheesy romance movies.

You couldn't help but think there was an ulterior motive but he was adamant that there was "no funny business in his agenda today", even though you had to pretend to ignore the figure which began to press against your lower back every so lightly.

"Uh uh uh, what is THIS my love"? Before you could even respond Micah had covered your eyes with his hands so you could no longer see the screen, "this is FAR too PG for you don't ya think Angel?", his sniggering getting louder as you attempted to swat him away. "THIS is too PG? Micah they're only kissing, I don't even think they go all the way in this one", you couldn't help but laugh a little, he was so immature.

You rolled over to face him, inching closer to his newly flustered face, "How about I show you PG hmm?", your seductive tone causing his eyes to widen, your own flittered between his and his lips. The sexual tension in the air rising as you let your lips linger by his teasing him while moving to lay on his chest.

"You're such a tea~", you cut him off by crashing your lips into his, gliding them over one another. His hand slid up to your neck, gently applying pressure while lightly tugging you even closer, the kiss getting heated ever so quickly. Micah caught your bottom lip between his, gently easing his tongue into your mouth as you followed, you let him take charge just this once.

The sexual tension quickly turned into frustration, as he deepened the kiss you knew he wanted more, the soft moans leaving his lips told you more than enough but you wouldn't give it up that easily. You could also feel how needy he was yet he didn't dare to try anything further.

You slowly pulled away, a string of saliva linking you together as you sat up, he watched as your eyes moved from his lower stomach to his eyes. "It's pretty convenient that at your request we are both only in our underwear. It's almost like.... This is what you wanted to happen hmm? Don't get all shy on me now". The grin forming on your face causing the usually cocky man under you to squirm trying to cover his heated cheeks.

"Nothing to say for yourself hmm?" you frowned smugly while watching Micah struggle to get any words out, "a~actually I~". You felt him choke back on his words as you leant forward letting you fingers coiled around his already hard nipples. "Sensitive here are we Micah?", your words ringing through while snaking your fingers around them.

You could feel Micah swallowing down his moans on your lips as you placed small kisses down the side of his neck, sucking lightly on each left kiss while nibbling down. Whilst trailing them down to his chest you blew gently against the newly placed hickies, you felt his body quiver due to how tender the marks were.

Micah's eyes widened as he heard your breath hitch while jolting up. "Ah, and you told me to shield my eyes from a kiss in a movie?", the confused look on his face dropping as he followed your eyes to his newly grown piece that was now pressing up on your lower half, you took your bottom lip in your teeth as you cheekily began to grind down against it.

Was Micah really that turnt on by a few neck kisses? This was the same egotistical man that would boast about how you would definitely fold first when it comes to being in the same room.

You couldn't help but giggle to yourself quietly while watching him squirm under you trying to take any extra friction he could from your lower half to his, desperation looked good on him.

You crawled off him, you could almost hear him internally sighing thinking you were done teasing him but he couldn't be further from correct. You placed yourself between his legs, hands running down his torso to the band of his boxers, your eyes half lidded with desire as you rolled your tongue against your top teeth, a coy grin plastered on your face.

Sliding the fabric down under his hips you took his length in your hand, the sheer size of it took you by surprise, no wonder the rare times when he was modest were only when you would joke about it being small without having seen it, "So this is what you've been hiding, I think I can handle it" you bit your lip while perking up.

"What do you mean by tha~ oh fuck", Micah hissed through his teeth as you timidly rubbed his ever growing member. With each stroke you could hear his needy moans get louder, his eyes showing a pure yearning for more."Look at you, is this the smug and overconfident hacker I met 5 days ago? 2 minutes in and you're already this turnt on", you teased as he averted his eyes from you.

"Look at me pretty boy", your stern tone followed by you meticulously moulding your fingers around his member massaging it in your hand, you could hear Micah curse through his moans. He turnt to look at you, eyebrows tilted upwards in bliss.

You weren't sure how much more he could take as you didn't know his cues yet, however you did know you weren't going to let it end here, having a cheeky man in submission was too perfect to give up this fast.

You slowly stopped your hand movements, "w~why'd you stop?" Micah whined trying to conduct himself, he wasn't used to being this vulnerable but with you he didn't mind but he wasn't expecting all this.

"Okay Micah, would you rather I finish you off with my hand, or mouth? Hackers choice.", your cheeky tone confusing him as to if that was a real question. Before he had a chance to formulate a response you placed your fingertips on the cusp on his cock, as you pressed them onto it you stuck out your tongue to let a drop of saliva hit his tip, your grip tightening as his body squirmed.

While kneading the tip in your fingertips you asked again, "You gotta pick one Micah, if not I guess we can leave it here and go back to the mov~", "mouth". "What was that? I couldn't hear you?", you pouted jokingly as if to mock him. You had full control and you were going to get the most out of it.

"P~Please, please finish me off with your mouth Angel", Micahs head rolling back in pure sexual frustration, "good boy Micah, i'm all yours". Without another word you skimmed your tongue across his shaft before taking it in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the burning in his stomach.

You bobbed your head up and down taking him all in, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. "Fuuuck baby, don't stop", his hand slid to your cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, you felt a slight pressure.

Was he really trying to fuck your face? You weren't expecting him to get a burst of confidence, or was his body just moving on its own? Either way it was turning you on little by little. You placed your free hand on his balls, palming them as he began to grind his hips forwards, the crown of his cock hitting the back of your throat each stroke.

Micah's moans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it all back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling.

You could feel him twitching slightly in your mouth, "oh my g~god i'm so close baby", his whining getting louder as you gave his balls in your palm some more attention. "Just keep going baby" he mewled out in desperation.

Before you could have another thought you felt him shudder, as if on cue he let go, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, swallowing whatever remained in your mouth. "W~What are you d~oing I can't take much mo~", you could hear him whimpering as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

"F~Fuuuck Angel", he was drowning in pain and pleasure, you started to slow down using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as you pulled back. You gazed at him alluringly as he covered his deep red cheeks with his forearm, "welllll, did I do good Mr Micah?".

Another cheeky smirk emerging on your lips as you slid your hand on last time up his length to take off anything remaining, licking it clean while remaining eye contact with him, he breathlessly mumbled "you~you did more than good I can tell ya that much" whilst you placed him back in his boxers carefully.

Micah grabbed your jaw with his hand pulling you into a quick heated kiss as you went to lay by his side, the taste of him and your saliva slightly re-turning him on. "You outdone anything I expected you to do, that's for sure, i'm still kinda in a haze", he chuckled letting you go, you winked at him before sliding back to face the television, back against his chest once again.

You could feel his heartbeat calming down behind you, you had definitely shocked him with your actions. Who knew you could make a cocky man whimper n writhe with just your mouth? God knows what he would be like if you guys actually fucked, you were definitely intrigued though.

You felt his arm wrap around your waist before moving up to your chin, turning your head so your ear was beside his lips, his breath sending shivers down your spine, "Once i've managed to collect myself, how about I repay you for your little display hmm? How does that sound?". His husky tone taking you aback.

He placed a kiss on the nape of your neck before sliding his arm back to your waist, your mind running through all possible scenarios that could pan out due to his cryptic words. All you knew was that the date was just beginning.

#meli noel's work #micah yujin #micah yujin smut #micah yujin x reader #micah yujin x reader smut #error143 #error 134 #error143 smut #error 143 smut #meli noel

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squash1 · 7 months

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An essay on what makes Gansey, Gansey.

Go.

okay. strap in.

in this essay i will examine how, ultimately, what makes gansey, gansey is his experience with death at an early age and how that is fundamentally about a loss of childhood.

to understand what makes gansey, gansey you have to look at gansey’s two lives. gansey was born into a wealthy family — the kind of family that passes down names father to son and has buildings then built in that name. until gansey was 10, we can assume he fit into this affluent world without issue. little gansey was most likely a spoiled little rich kid — not a bad person but inherently out of touch because of the reality he was born into. when gansey dies the first time, it changes his perception of reality — he has an understanding of time and mortality that most adults don’t have never mind ten year olds. this first death is a representation of an early end to gansey’s childhood. he no longer easily fits into the wealthy, laid back world he was born into. we have to assume that until gansey went to stay with mallory, he was in DC with his parents trying to fit into their world but instead feeling intensely isolated and lonely. because even though gansey changed, his parents didn’t.

mallory is an important figure because of the time he represents in gansey’s life. we know from mallory that at 14 gansey struggled intensely with anxiety, that he hadn’t yet learned to present only his shiny gansey mask to the world. but instead of being dismissive, mallory showed gansey kindness and empathy — he was perhaps gansey’s first friend because sometimes delightfully weird old british men are exactly what a teenager needs. mallory helped gansey in his quest, but he also helped him to discover this new version of himself by making him feel not only safe but like there were other people beyond his parent’s world that would understand this pull and fascination he had.

understanding this backstory is key to understanding what makes gansey, gansey, because an intimate knowledge of death is what has produced this gansey that we meet in the raven boys. the gansey we meet is silly and strange and charming. he uses phrases like “hey, tiger” and drinks organic apple juice from the bottle, he has a favorite yellow sweater and is vocal about his love for it. and that’s just gansey, those are ganseyisms as i like to say. gansey has chosen to live his life with childlike wonder and whimsy because he lost that at an early age but doesn’t want to loose it forever. he has decided to embrace the weird, unknown parts of life. he is essentially reclaiming his time. he’s saying yes i know that there is death and darkness in the world, yes i have seen it first hand, yes i still feel it sometimes but i am going to live my life hopefully. gansey has carved out a life for himself in henrietta — a town that in and of itself makes him feel known, but also contains a piece of his old world in aglionby — and has slowly found people who fit, who feel right, who are 1,000 years old just like him. gansey has been lonely for a lot of his life but he found people who were lonely like he was lonely, that were looking for the something more just like he was looking for the something more. he is a compelling leader not because of money or status, but because his hope and quest and belief are real and made real because of gansey’s relationship to mortality. he has made it his mission to build a life he wants, even if it’s short, even if he’s scared. what makes gansey, gansey is his ability to choose hope anyway, to choose to live anyway.

if you made it this far, i love u

#this is exactly the kind of ask i live for thank you anon <3 #I LOVE GANSEY SM GODDDDDD #richard campbell gansey iii #trc #the raven boys #the dream thieves #blue lily lily blue #the raven cycle #the raven king #the gangsey #gangsey #ronan lynch #adam parrish #blue sargent #pynch #adam and ronan #bluesey #mine #ask

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 9 months

Text

Part 5 - dare not preach

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

Masterlist Part 4

"And If I had the answers I'd have written them out so I could tell you what to do and what this thing is about. But all I've ever learned comes second-hand and I dare not preach what I don't understand." -Make A Move by Icon For Hire

//////////////////////

Content warning: briefly implied child abuse (Vlad is not a good guy by any definition),

Time was lost in between bouts of consciousness, flashes of pretty eyes and fire hair, soft muttering and gentle caresses against his skin soothing his aches.

Jason was caught between heaven and hell, wracked with agony behind his ribs one moment and healed with persistent warmth the next, a never ending cycle.

He wanted to scream.

One bout of semi-clarity was of some citrus concoction on his tongue, gentle murmurs of a woman by his ear before she kissed him again, forced something down his throat again.

He both loved and hated that woman. She felt familiar in a way that made his bat-honed paranoia rear its ugly head, the instinct to survive in his gut a heavy weight, but she brought him peace in the same moment she could damn him.

He caught his name once, his real name, spoken by her as he swallowed dutifully, a spike of want in his heart almost a welcome change from the pain by that point.

————————————————

Jazz spoke with the Lady frequently as the Red Hood, Jason, healed in her bed.

The elder spirit, regal in mannerisms and aura, demanded the Regent to aid this one vigilante, this one knight and Jazz had finally figured out why.

It was so obvious when she had all the puzzle pieces, the depth of occult knowledge both in her brain and at her disposal should have been her first resource used to dig deeper, but she’d allowed Danny and Frostbite to assume (and let her assume) that the Red Hood was an awakened Liminal who was recovering from corrupted Ecto in his system.

The Red Hood had been Jason Todd-Wayne, the second Robin- bright light of Gotham- and he’d been murdered by the Joker.

Unburied in my soil.

Jazz groaned in self-contempt as she paced the graveyard of Gotham’s Crime Alley. It was decrepit and uncared for, not like the higher class cemetery of Gotham proper where the Rich and powerful are buried. She what’s spent the better part of three days researching her new bedmate roommate once he’d been stabilized enough to be on a consistent schedule for ecto-infusion. He’d be unlikely to regain full consciousness for another month or so, but he would recover fully.

That was, if he understood what he had become in his near-fatal collapse.

(Thanks to Jazz and her rash actions.)

The Lady had been cryptic when speaking of Red Hood at first, but with his recovery and development of a strong proto-core Lady Gotham was eager to aid the Regent in making her once Robin adjust to a world-changing consequence once again.

(At least this time he would have support.)

Not only was Jason a Liminal with an indisputable death-claim, he had been a- a Revenant whose continued existence was a mind boggling happenstance of circumstance that was one in a infinite chance of ever happening again.

The Lady claimed him. The Lady gave a bit of herself to resurrect her bright Light, the one who shouldn’t have died so young, not while he deserved happiness for the hope he brought to so many.

(Damn it all.)

He clawed himself out of his own casket, to be found by Talia Al Ghul of all people… then survive the Lazarus Pits in body, with only Pit Madness to show for it?

(It was a callous way to think about it, but Jazz knew that it had also given him his freedom in many ways, that Jason wouldn’t have if he was still just a Revenant.)

(Did the Al Ghul know what she had found that night in dreary Gotham?)

(Was she aware she had given Jason Todd a third chance at life- however much of one being death-claimed by Lady Gotham could be called a life.)

The Lady, wistful once assured in the Regent’s anger having passed, swore an oath that Jason would never be forced to be a Knight again.

(Jazz reveled in the understanding that Batman, Bruce Wayne, was destined to be Gotham Knight for his mortal lifetime- possibly beyond.)

(Had he sworn his fealty by accident in his grief? Or had his donning that ridiculous gimmick been enough of a bind to tie his soul to the Lady?)

(Regardless, for his inaction, Jazz privately reveled in the satisfaction of the true consequences of his choices.)

Jazz, who’d been pacing a strict line in the uneven row of headstones, came to a rest at the grave of the once-Revenant who now lay in her bed.

Jason Todd

He’d been only a year older than her little brother when he’d been murdered by the Joker, buried under a name that was half-complete. He was a Wayne in life, but not in death? How hypocritical of the old bat, to not give him the courtesy of giving him the hyphenated last name if he wasn’t going to bury him in the Wayne cemetery.

What would it have been like if Danny had a grave, complete with a stone and inscription?

(The portal was his grave. He’d died there and the house was his graveyard.)

Would it have been up to Jazz to choose the words to describe her little light, the brightest star in the galaxy, the one reason she had for getting up in the morning… or would her parents have cremated him and put him on a shelf to prevent a corpse from ‘piloting’ his corpse?

(Jazz still had nightmares about Danny’s death scream. The portal ripping him apart in the same moment it fused him back together.)

(Into something different, something more.)

(He was her little brother, the same one who she spent her birthday money on to get those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars.)

(They’d spent hours forming constellations on his ceiling.)

How does one paraphrase a life?

Would Jazz start with his name, his preferred name, or with his date of birth?

Would she put down ‘dearest brother’ or ‘missed’, ‘Be at peace’?

No. Jazz knew she’d give the most important pieces of what made her little brother the brightest star in the sky-

Danny, per aspera ad Astra.

Danny had an unconventional memorial tucked away in the remnants of the Fenton lab, underneath the debris of what was once a strange machine to a world unseen.

The portal was built into the wall with ample access space in the rear for intended maintenance, though it was not required once the portal was completed and functional.

Jazz left flowers for Danny in that maintenance space three days after she first saw his transformation, yellow tulips, though she didn’t know the impact the action would have later in life.

Once a month, Jazz would return to replace the dried flowers, dust away the cobwebs, close the door, rinse and repeat.

Christmas was particularly complicated in the Fenton household, but the first year of Danny’s half-life was the worst Jazz could recall up to that point.

It wasn’t the eerie lack of ghost attacks (thanks to her not knowing of the Truce then), or the winter storm being harsher than any other Amity Park had faced in previous years… No, it was that Danny had died, while nothing and everything changed.

Jack and Maddie still screamed their arguments about Santa Claus, loud and proud for the world to be privy to.

Jazz had extra tutoring to take up for Christmas presents.

Danny… Danny still had to fight a ghost.

Ghostwriter wasn’t a malicious ghost in nature, far from it in fact, but he was never a fan of her little brother.

Jazz overheard Danny tell his friends about his ‘storybook adventure’ and she had to sleep in the access space for the night, just so she didn’t wake anyone with her crying.

It wasn’t right.

That thought repeated on a never-ending loop in her head as she tucked her growing limbs into the cramped space, eyes shut tight and the darkness shrouding her in safety.

(That had been the first nightmare of her own death to come, fingers frantically searching for a pulse as she woke in the dark.)

Perhaps she should have never left that darkness.

Because then the anger that had been building inside of her would never have been unshackled after the release of the tyrant king.

Jazz had been a patient girl her entire life. It was a necessary evil when raised by scientists to follow in their footsteps, though she had no intention to make her life into any imitation of her negligent parents, she learned those lessons at the knee of Maddie Fenton, who had given her life to the pursuit of ecto-science.

(Built a very strange machine to a world unseen.)

When Jazz failed to achieve something, she observed and struck when the opportunity presented it. That’s how she’d survived ghost attacks for so long, escpecially when it was her own dinner- that and the ingrained knowledge to strike hard and quick when it was required. A paradox of a hunter and a hunted, but that was Jasmine Fenton’s upbringing in a nutshell.

Jasmine knew Vladimir Masters was a bigger predator than she was capable of hunting as a young girl.

(Jazz was just a little girl when Vlad became obsessed with her and her mom.)

(Only the dead truly knew what an older man could do to someone so much smaller.)

It was a waiting game that morphed as she grew, bones sturdy and teeth sharper as Ecto-contamination finally settled into her molecules- Death-claimed, Liminality. Vlad was a false halfa, just as he was a false friend to her parents and a false business man, but as long as he stayed out of her way in caring for her little brother than she would not destroy him.

(She was a patient hunter.)

Pariah Dark was the final crack.

(It needed somewhere to go, all that anger, all that rage.)

Jazz had been patrolling the outer limits of the ghost shield now that Amity was returned to the Living Realm, anxiety in her gut as Danny had yet to show from his battle against the tyrant king.

He had obviously won if they were all safe, right? The mech suit would boost him enough, but could it really kill what was already dead?

Hidden in the embrace of familiar shadows, Jazz witnessed Plasmius carrying an unconscious Danny over his shoulder and a…crown in his right hand.

Not only had the bastard released the King for the Crown of Fire, he’d damned them all for the same item he’d stolen in the aftermath.

Jazz’s next actions weren’t borne from Vengeance, they were unfiltered rage.

Vlad had died that night, Jazz believed wholeheartedly, he died before she locked him in his casket- a since soldered shut Fenton Thermos.

Thing was, Jazz didn’t recall what happened between them- all she could really remember when thinking of that time frame was a green haze that was so similar in color to the damned portal.

One moment, Plasmius had Danny and the Crown. The next, he was a beaten man in his human form with no rise and fall of his chest to convince Jazz he was alive.

Was it concerning? Of course. Jazz never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not in a blackout rage state.

(How times have changed.)

Would she ever mourn Vlad? No. He deserved a far worse fate than a second death.

(His sins were numerous.)

If his casket would later be given to Pandora, the trusted Mentor of the Boy King’s Regent…. Well, where better to keep a body hidden than with a Matriarch who understands the sins of man?

(Pandora had always believed in Jazz, the Regent’s soul was far too bright to be snuffed out without a war.)

Within the Infinite Realms, the Regent was called many things- titles that held little meaning to the one in question, but offered weight to her authority.

The Lady of the Acropolis, for her mentorship with Pandora and position of respect among the populace.

First Knight of the Star King, would be granted once her Regency was over and Danny was crowned. His epithet as ‘Star King’ was a beautiful homage of a lost dream.

Death-Claimed Champion.

It made the Regent grit her teeth when addressed as such, especially when she lived in Gotham presently- the city of Lady Gotham’s Knights… her Champions.

Jazz had survived to adulthood as a highly contaminated Liminal, no patron to claim as her- Not even Pandora counted even though they shared a teacher/student relationship.

Would Jason, Red Hood of the Alley, be able to handle managing his territory without the backing of a patron claim? The Lady did swear that the once-Revenant was no longer bound to her service, which meant he could pack up his gear forever if he wanted to.

Though that was highly doubtful.

Jason was a strong willed man to lay claim to his haunt so quickly and hold fast for so long. Jazz shared her haunt with Danny, but that was only because he was the powerful Halfa and future King. His Haunt would never be challenged by a competent opponent, not in Gotham at least.

Perhaps Jason would be willing to unite their haunts?

It was a common tradition for older ghosts to allow weaker ones to share their haunt for protection, but that didn’t translate well to the Death-Claimed.

(Jazz had a hunch that Jason was so in tune with his haunt that he instinctively knew when she or Danny stepped foot across his boundary.)

(They tried not to linger, out of respect of another’s haunt of course.)

Then again, Jason was the Baby Liminal between the two of them. Danny and Jazz should be offering him to share a haunt for protection.

(Jazz couldn’t help but wonder what Jason looked like as a child.)

(She would bet almost anything that he was an adorable kid.)

(Would their kids be so cute?)

There was a slight lilt of sadness that lingered over the daytime hero, Signal, that Danny almost choked on his Death Wish.

The coffee, that is.

Little late on the literal bit.

Gotham (city, not the Lady) was an ever-gloomy fruit basket full of ghastly vibes. You see it and you know you’re in for a bad time, but that’s typically at night.

So what was up with Sunshine Child?

Yeah, he was clearly human and allowed to have off days, duh, but for it to hang like a shroud of storm clouds over Sunny? Yeah, no. That shit needs to be gone, like yesterday.

“Hey, Sunshine!” Danny called out with a false cheer. It was too damn early in the morning for real cheer, are you mad, but Signal didn’t seem to notice as he approached the lawn chair the Halfa had decided would be his new throne.

(At least Jazz would find it funny.)

“Hi Danny. Can I help you with something?”

Danny took a loud sip of his coffee before he went straight for the throat, “You’re doom and gloom this morning, Sunny. Whose bones do I need ‘ta steal?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Just…” the meta Hero trailed off, voice tired as he let himself relax for a moment in Danny’s presence.

(That’s right, Danny’s just a friendly civilian teenager with anger issues, right?)

(Oh he would be cackling at that lie when he had a moment to himself again.)

“My brother is missing.”

Danny blinked.

“Your brother? One of the birdies?” He tried very hard not to pull out any of his jokes about traffic lights and Stabby Robin, but at least he didn’t sound condescending?

“Sorta. Red Hood… he went off grid about a week and a half ago.”

(Yeah this isn’t something Danny should be privy to.)

(Like at all.)

(It’s not like he was housing the guy in his home right?)

(Oh wait.)

“Yikes, Sunny. That sucks, ‘m sorry.”

Signal sighed, “Yeah, thanks Danny.” He paused again, studying the canonical adoption bait that was Danny Fenton before he dropped a bombshell.

“Batman thinks he’s dead.”

(Danny almost cackled in manic glee at that statement.)

(Overshot the mark there, Bats. Yikes.)

Danny happily waved goodbye to his meta friend, a dorky salute with his coffee cup in commersiation of a shitty hour of the day to be awake, before he leaned back in his lawn chair and yawned.

“Oh, what drama. Jazz is gonna kill me all the way if she finds out.” He said out loud to no one in particular. The occasional shade that kept him company didn’t bother to move at the sound of his voice now that Signal had left, but it did let out a mournful trill that made Dannny chuckle.

“Yeah, yep, you’re right- when, when, Jazz finds out.” Danny laughed again, “Worth it.”

A/N:

Yeah, I wasn't expecting so much angst either, but apparently, that's my jam, because I literally cannot write anything else. Well, anything that doesn't sound like two robots trying to mimic humans at least.

This was supposed to be a more upbeat entry and look how epically I failed. I had to put a content warning up top because I wrote/heavily implied that Jazz was abused by Vlad due to his obsession with Maddie.

In other news, I have a playlist now for what songs I listen to while writing this. It's called 'Guns & Sword: Jazz on' 'cause 2am me thinks she's clever.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #regent!jazz #jazz fenton #jason todd #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #ooh angst #*points at Jazz* this badass can hold so much angst #some character building for Jazz #I swear I try writing dialogue and I choke.#How did i never learn to write dialogue properly?

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daisies-daydreams · 4 months

Note

So, this is an unofficial, official request. I am in the mood for confessions. There is no outline. As long as it has Jason and a confession, we squared. Though sprinkle in a little angst, and maybe a little bit of Dick giving advice.

Angel in Red (Jason Todd x F!Reader) Pt. 1

Image Source(s): Pexels & DC Comics

Pairing: Jason Todd x F!Reader Category: Angst, Eventual Smut Warnings: Swearing, Endangerment, Mentions of Murder Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: I was so excited to write this story, you have no idea! I hope you enjoy!

-> Part 2

Your heart stopped when you reached your desk.

“I told you already, I made sure the murders were pinned on one of Falcone’s men, not Marchetti’s,” your boss, Police Chief Sullivan, harshly whispered into a cellphone. Your eyes widened as you froze where you stood.

You were just coming back inside to grab your phone. You were working late tonight to catch up on some menial tasks…but you never expected to stumble into this kind of conversation. Sullivan sighed.

“Christ, Dante. You’re killing me here,” he groaned. A cold chill ran down your spine as your throat tightened. Dante…as in Dante Marchetti. The mob boss that had Gotham in an iron grip for the past few months…the one your boss was tasked in capturing.

You quickly grabbed your phone, your hands shaking as you pressed “record”. You tried to remain as hidden as possible as you held your breath.

“What more do you want me to do?” Sullivan snapped as he banged his fist on the desk. You flinched and nearly dropped your phone, sighing quietly as you caught it. “You listen to me, Marchetti: I’ve been covering your ass this whole time. The least you could do is give me some more time to-“ the police chief paused. “No, please. I-I’m sorry,” he said in a more shaky voice. “There’s no need to bring Abby into this,” Sullivan swallowed thickly. Your heart raced when he mentioned his wife’s name. “Alright, I’ll get it done,” he sighed. Your stomach twisted into tight knots.

Get what done?

“As of tomorrow, Detective Montoya will no longer be assigned to your case,” he said. You shivered at the implication as you took a step back. You gasped when your ankle rolled, making your heel loudly clack against the marble floor. You tensed when you heard some shuffling inside Sullivan’s office.

“Hold on a second, Dante,” he said, his voice a strained murmur. You scrambled beneath your desk, tucking your knees up to your chest just as Sullivan came out. You held your hand over your mouth, your phone still recording as you squeezed yourself into the space as much as you could. Sullivan grunted as he sighed. “Sorry, I thought someone else was here,” he muttered before turning back into his office and fully shutting the door. You exhaled and stopped the recording, your heart pounding inside your ears as you shook.

Your mind raced as you slipped onto your hands and knees and crawled past his office. You tried not to let panic overwhelm you as you made your way to the back door. You clutched your hand over your chest as your eyes burned.

“Holy shit,” you panted. You forced yourself to continue down the street walking despite how heavy your body felt. You couldn’t stop, not now. Not when the whole narrative of the case was changing this quickly. You finally made it to the subway station and pulled up Barbara Gordon’s number. You quickly dialed the number, glancing all around you until Barbara finally picked up.

“Barbara Gordon speaking,” she hummed on the other end. You sucked in a sharp breath as you bounced your leg.

“Barbara, it‘s (Y/N). I need to talk to you about something,” you said.

+++

Barbara’s eyes were wide by the time you finished playing the recording. You squeezed your hands in your lap as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“I always knew that guy was a dick,” she huffed. You sighed and ran your hands through your hair.

“How could I have been so stupid? I’m his assistant for God’s sake,” you groaned. You relaxed a little when she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N). He’s obviously been using burn phones to ensure that he isn’t being tracked,” Barbara said as she placed a warm cup of tea in front of you. You gave her a small smile before sipping on the drink.

“He…He almost caught me, Barbara. I don’t think he saw me, but I’m not sure,” you said as your chest tightened. Barbara took a sip of her tea as she thought to herself for a moment.

“You still need to go in tomorrow,” she said. Your eyes widened as you clenched your jaw.

“What?!” you breathed. Barbara set her cup down.

“I know it sounds like the least safe option, but think about it. If you call off or don’t show up at all, Sullivan might start to connect some dots before we can come up with a plan of our own,” she explained. You shook your head.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you groaned as you tugged on your hair. “How did I get myself into this? I’m a pencil pusher, Barbara, not one of those caped crusaders you see on the news,” you said. Barbara nodded slowly, her blue eyes softly glowing with sympathy.

“I know…but what you did today showed that you’re just as brave as them,” she reassured you with another pat on your shoulder. You nodded and took a deep breath.

“Thanks, Barbara,” you gave a weak smile. She grinned back and nodded.

“Of course,” she said gently. You blinked as she took your phone. “May I?” she asked. You nodded and watched as she wheeled over to her computer station. She plugged your phone in with a USB cord and downloaded a copy of the recording. “I’m sending this to my father. He won’t be in town until tomorrow morning, but I know he’ll help us as soon as he can,” Barbara said as she typed a few things into her computer. You nodded slowly as you watched her send the file to the Commissioner.

“You okay?” your friend asked. You glanced up, your throat tight as you tensed.

“I…I don’t know,” you sighed. “What if he did see me? What if something happens tomorrow?” you clenched your fists. Barbara paused for a moment.

“How about this: I’ll send over one of my guys to come pick you up,” she offered. Your eyes lit up.

“Really?” you asked. Barbara nodded as she cleaned her glasses.

“Absolutely. My assistant Thomas can come get you,” she explained. You nodded.

“That sounds great,” you replied as you stood up. Barbara gave you a weary glance.

“(Y/N), you still need to be careful. I’m sorry, but like it or not, you’re a part of this now. I’ll do my best to protect you, but you need to stay alert at all times, okay?” she said firmly. You took a deep breath.

“I understand,” you said. Your friend looked you up and down.

“Do you feel comfortable going home? Or do you want to stay the night?” she asked. You bit the inside of your cheek as you rested your hands on your hips.

“I don’t want to endanger you by being here,” you said with a strained voice. Barbara sighed as she turned in her wheelchair.

“It’ll be alright, (Y/N). I can handle it,” she said as she cheekily flexed her arm. You laughed and shook your head.

“I mean, if you’re offering,” you shrugged. Barbara smiled.

“Let me get a few things for you,” she beamed before going down the hall. You sighed and looked back at the three computer screens. You noticed a window open with a news article.

“RED HOOD STRIKES AGAIN: FIVE MARCHETTI FOUND DEAD IN TRINITY PLACE”

You shivered as a cold chill ran down your spine. Barbara came back out as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she furrowed her brows. You nodded.

“Yeah, I just need to get some sleep,” you said. Barbara hummed and nodded.

“Alright,” she grinned before turning around. You offered her a smile, but it quickly dissipated as thoughts of tomorrow violently swarmed inside your mind.

+++

Jason remained tense in his dark vehicle, his crimson mask clad over his rugged face as he listened in on a phone conversation. He narrowed his green eyes as he heard the police chief murmur over the phone.

“Roy, it’s Sullivan…I may have a job for you”.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @lavenderbabu @tayleighuh @thedevax @famouscattale @spktrgantenk @zombieblogx @mrswhitethornbelikov @migueloharastruelove @galaxy-dusk @samanthashadowriley @theloneshadow24 @xxkay15xx @inspace1 @manlikemilesmyguy @ghostslynx @synamonthy @oharasfilipinawife @scaleniusrm @jotarossshark @acotarobbsessed @8xbygirl @blueapplesiren @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @lyrasdrawer @spiderrinn

Want to be a part of my taglist? Comment down below!

#jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood x fem!reader #red hood smut #red hood angst #jason todd smut #jason todd angst

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goth-pod · 3 months

Text

Goth-Pod Ep 10: Finale

Welcome to Goth-Pod's last episode of season one! Juda Boone is joined today by a very special guest! (ITS DICK GRAYSON-WAYNE. WE GOT DICK GRAYSON)

Thank you for joining us for our first season. Until next time, stay safe, Gotham.

[goth-pod is a fictional, in-universe podcast based on the DC comics universe. Juda Boone is an original fictional character, not based on any real person or known comic book character.]

Special thanks to my friend for voicing Dick! @anythingeverythingallofthetime

Transcript under the cut

Juda: Hello everyone and welcome back! This is Goth-Pod, your Gotham based podcast. I am your favorite host, Juda Boone. And I am not alone today! Care to say hi?

Dick: Hello listeners!

Juda: Today’s episode is the last before our hiatus. So of course, we are doing what any competent media does when they want to be successful: Completely change up the formula at the very last minute.

Dick: And that's where I come in!

Juda: Yes, you are our very special guest star / co-host / interviewee for our finale.

Dick: And I am happy to be here. I totally binge-listened to all your episodes after you reached out to me. It was too good to pass up! I don’t think I’ve ever been on a podcast before? I like it, I get to wear big headphones and talk.

Juda: Why don’t you start out by just introducing yourself, for our non-local listeners.

Dick: Sure thing! I am Dick Grayson-Wayne, I am an Aries, I think. And I am single. If you happen to know someone.

Juda: [laughing] Okay, very helpful. And since we are an audio-based medium, it is my duty as a host to explain that Mr. Grayson just gave me a very tasteful wink.

Dick: We’re friends here, Juda. You can call me Dick.

Juda: With all the respect in the world I will not be calling you that. Juda: Mr. Grayson, we actually have something of an important topic to discuss today. As you are now a Bludhaven resident, you have some insight on their vigilante, Nightwing. I was hoping you could tell the Gotham listeners a bit about the up-and-coming hero.

Dick: To be fair, I don’t know any more than the next guy. I’ve seen him around town, of course, especially on patrol. But I’ve never had the chance to actually talk to him. Guess that means I’m staying on the right side of trouble.

Juda: From what you have seen, what are some differences between Gotham's Bat and Bludhaven’s Nightwing?

Dick: The fashion sense, for sure! Dick: He actually seems like a person rather than a- what was it you called Batman? In Episode 1, I thought it was great! Like a- an Earthbound spirit, right? And from what I hear the guy has a good sense of humor, unlike Batman. Probably a winning smile to go along with it.

Juda: hah! Mr. Grayson, we are not a gossip podcast, but to me it almost sounds like you have a crush.

Dick: woah, woah, hey now Juda, let's not get ahead of ourselves. I mean, give me a chance to get rescued by the guy. We’ll see if sparks fly then.

Juda: And if that happens, will you be back on the show?

Dick: You will be the first person I call, I can promise you that. Dick: Juda if we are to be friends, I’m going to have to come clean on something.

Juda: Oh no.

Dick: It’s nothing bad! I just may have started us off on a lie, and I apologize for that.

Juda: I repeat: Oh no.

Dick: I said that I only listened to Goth-Pod after you reached out to me. In truth, I heard every episode at their release. [whispering] I’m the one who showed Bruce your Bruce Wayne episode.

Juda: Mr. Grayson, you didn’t.

Dick: AND your Bruceman Episode.

Juda: Dick.

Dick: [laughing] Hey, that's my name!

Juda: To save myself from the mortification of that reality, I’m going to say that this is all the time we have today. Thank you so much for joining us, everyone. This time and everytime. A special thank you to my co-host, Dick Grayson-Wayne. I am Juda, this is Goth-Pod. Anything you’d like to say, Mr. Grayson?

Dick: Uuhh. Be gay, don’t do crime. And Stay Safe, Gotham!

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captainkirkk · 1 year

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

what goes around by Goldmonger

A civilian accidentally kills the Joker. It’s a confusing time for everybody.

Never Meet Your Heroes by 12pt_timesnewromanfont

Tim’s not snooping, not really. Or, he doesn’t mean to be snooping. But then he hears Superman say the words 'Experiment 13' and he's out of the Cave like a bat out of hell. He has just enough time to tell Kon to get the hell out of dodge before Batman finds him, and a furious Batman is not something he wants to face alone.

Meanwhile, Kon is totally panicking. He, Cassie, and Bart have lost contact with Robin, have cut themselves off from their mentors, and have absolutely no idea what to do. Superman has turned his back on Kon, and the League will always stand with Big Bastard Blue. He's desperate, and Kon only knows of one other person who might give a damn about him.

He'll take what he can get, even if the man is a supervillain on occasion.

let me help you fly this nest by carolinaa

Out causing havoc on date night, Harley notices something's seriously wrong with the new Robin. She's not about to sit idly by and let anyone hurt that tiny kid.

Not even the big, bad Batman.

From Riches to Rags by Vamillepudding

(If Bruce wasn't so busy investigating the Red Hood, he might have realised that, while Jack Drake is in a coma and Tim is grounded from patrol, Drake Industries goes broke. Overnight, the Drakes lose everything, leaving Tim without a cent to his name.

Jason, meanwhile, cannot believe that the Bats haven't noticed yet that something is obviously wrong with the Replacement.)

It’s weird, being poor. At the moment, Tim has precisely eleven dollars to his name. Drake Industries, gone. Their assets, gone. His trust fund, being used to pay for his father’s hospital bills. The house is gone, too. That's okay. Tim is okay. Sometimes, though, he lies awake at night, and he can’t help but wonder. Does Bruce know? He definitely doesn’t, obviously. But, does he?

Just a Moment in Time by Just_A_Poor_Boy

"I am… appreciative.” Damian says slowly. His hand discreetly fists itself in Timothy’s hoodie. Timothy is prone to bolting at the sight of emotional expression and Damian… is grounding himself as best as he can in this moment.

(Just a little glimpse of a moment between Damian and Tim. A bit of drabble to get my writing muscles back in shape.)

ATLA

surrender to the sheer force of the sky by achievingelysium

Half-turned from the door, Zuko looks up. A scarred eye widens, and Zuko reaches for his shirt, pulling it up across his chest.

“Uncle—” he gasps. “You’re here.”

It’s too late. As Zuko draws thin fabric over his chest, Iroh catches a glimpse of what he’s trying to hide. A set of bandages—and a healing wound in the shape of lightning.

(When the war ends, Iroh has only one concern—to see his nephew. Or: Iroh finds out Zuko was hit with lightning in the last Agni Kai.)

eternal and artificial by delectum

Part 1 of Rebel Zuko

After the fateful Agni Kai that changed Zuko’s life, Ozai never gives his son the quest to find the Avatar, banishing him from the Fire Nation with no hope of return. Without a purpose to life, Zuko takes revenge against his father the most spiteful way that he knows how: treason.

The Magnus Archives

Surrender by BeneathSilverStars

Jon doesn’t want to trust his coworkers. He can’t. But after being cursed by a Leitner to obey any command given to him, he might have to.

Clone Wars

Plan Besh by BitterChocolateStars

Dooku Falls too soon. Sidious is there to tempt him away earlier in the timeline. Jango is contracted for the Clone Army ahead of schedule. There is no plan to trick the Jedi into taking command of the Clone army. No trap for them to spring. Sidious steals Force sensitive children to raise along side the clones. When the time comes he will unleash them upon the galaxy. No need to waste time crafting an intricate plot from the heart of the Republic.

The Clones and the people who care for them disagree with Plan Aurek. (See Notes for Plan Besh)

#hopefully this makes your monday slightly brighter x #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #dc recs #sw recs #atla recs #tma recs

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howlingday · 4 months

Note

What if insted of the everafter team RWBYJ + neo landed in the dc universe

Ruby is in metropolis with superman

Weiss is in gotham with batman

Blake is themescera with wonder woman

Yang is in central city with the flash

Jaune is on oua with jessica

And neo with lex luthor

So, full disclosure, I have not seen much of RWBY/Justice League beyond the little stories in the comics (that I did not like all that much). However, I do enjoy what if scenarios, so let's see if I can make a little something out of this.

----------------------------------------------------

Hailey Rose

Ruby's eyes fluttered open. After her unfortunate fall from the bridge between Atlas and their destination of Vacuo, she thought herself as good as dead. And with the death of her sister, she supposed it was fitting, in a tragic irony sort of way. However, as the stars once gold now changing to white, she realized she was falling from the night sky.

What truly clued her in was the honking of a horn below. She turned around, finding a veritable metropolis, like a much, much warmer Atlas. In the distance, she thought she saw an angry Neopolitan falling herself. She hoped she was wrong. Unfortunately, as her signature parasol opened, she'd known it was too good to be true.

And now she was falling. Aura low, weapon gone, it all added up to being a bad day for her. Or night. Bad night. Maybe the last night of her life. Should she scream? Cry? After everything going wrong in Atlas, she began questioning herself as a huntress. As a hero. And so she closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

"Whoa! I got you!" A voice said, her body suddenly supported by something warm. "Are you okay?"

Ruby opened her eyes, whirling her head around and finding a smiling face looking at her. He had dark hair that ended in a little curl at the top of his forehead. His blue eyes held so much kindness in them, and a bit of worry, too. Looking down, but not too far down because they were still who knows how high in the air, she saw a blue outfit and a red cape fluttering behind him.

"Miss?" Ruby shut her eyes, thinking this was a dream. People can't fly, right? "Miss, your heartbeat is a little erratic. Try to breathe." Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke.

"Can we go to the ground, please? I've never been this high up outside of a bullhead before." With a nod, he slowly lowered themselves down to the rooftop of a nearby building. With her feet on solid ground, Ruby gave a shudder of relief. "Even with my semblance, I've never gone that high before."

"I take it you're not from Metropolis, are you?"

"Metropolis?" Ruby cocked her head. "Where on Remnant is Metropolis?"

"Ah..." The man nodded. "Definitely not Metropolis. This is a planet called Earth." Ruby's eyes almost popped out of her head. He raised his hands in a calming manner. "Let's start from the beginning. My name is Superman, and I'm a hero. And you are?"

"I'm... I'm Ruby Rose. And... And I was a huntress."

_______________________________________

A Cold Reception

"And what exactly is a huntress?"

"A person who dedicates their life to protecting the peace from the Grimm." Weiss couldn't tell, but the... man?... whom she was speaking to didn't offer much emotion on his end. If he was confused, angry, or some third emotion, she couldn't tell. What she could tell was he wasn't happy. "And you are?"

"Responsible for protecting the people of this city." The man tapped into his gauntlet. His entire appearance was nothing like she'd seen on Remnant. His face was mostly hidden, with stubble dotting along his jawline. His entrance was also concerning as she saw no sign of him or even heard him, and yet he took hold of her unarmed, only to let go when he got a good look at her. "You might say like a huntress. I'm going to scan you."

"What?" Weiss, surprised by the sudden shift in the conversation, could only watch as a little camera pop out of his wrist, and a shimmer of pale light quickly passed over her.

"Hm. There's no record of you. At all." By his tone, he wasn't happy to hear this.

"And this is a problem because...?"

"You just neutralized a gang of thugs using a weapon that encases them in ice." He took a step closer. "There is no record of you in any database I have, and I have everyone in my database." He now towered over her. "And now you're in my city, from out of thin air. There's a lot of problems."

"W-Well," Weiss gulped, "it's not like I came here voluntarily. I fell off a bridge in my world, and now I'm here without my team."

"And who else is on this team?"

"And why should I tell you anything, Mr. Batman?" Weiss stepped away. "For all I know, you could be just as dangerous as these men I just neutralized."

"I'm not." He leaned closer. "I'm more dangerous."

================================

Ominous Omens

"I swear, I'm not dangerous!"

"That is not for you to decide." Said the woman holding Blake at spearpoint. "Your arrival could be a foul omen from the gods, and even if not, you are still an intruder."

The situation swiftly went from bad to worse. Not only was she down a weapon, she was also low on aura and separated from her team. Or at least, what was left of her team. Her jaw clenched at the memory. She then felt her entire body tense. The warrior in front of her was about to strike when suddenly,

"Enough!" A voice called. The spearwoman relaxed, stepping away from Blake. A new woman arrived, donned in armor that reminded her of a more colorful Pyrrha Nikos. She placed a hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Allow me, Agnes." The other woman bowed and stepped away. "You have trespassed on sacred Amazonian ground. Explain yourself willingly, and you may be pardoned."

Blake took a moment to glance up and down the imposing woman in front of her. She didn't have armor covering the space between her wrists and torso, nor anything from the top of her knees and the top of her thighs. At her hip, she wore a lasso and sword in it's sheath, and she saw the round edges of a shield peek over her shoulders. This woman was a warrior and considering how the other women bowed at her approach, she was also royalty.

"My name is Blake Belladonna. I come from another world, my world, and I fell onto your island." Blake began. "I was separated from my team after we were escorting civilians from Atlas to Vacuo."

"Atlas?" The woman asked. "The titan, Atlas?"

"What? No, Atlas is a city. It was in danger from a man named General Ironwood, and we were ambushed by a woman named Cinder Fall-"

"Enough." The woman held up her hand. "Agnes, Gloria. Escort her to the prison. I wish to speak more on this in private."

"As you wish, Princess." The two bowed and took Blake by her arms.

"And be careful," the princess warned, "there is something about her that tells me there is more going on here."

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

Flash Fact Yangers

"I'm sorry, a what?"

"A semblance." Yang repeated herself. "Everyone on Remnant has one. Mine is when I get angry, I catch on fire."

"And you think my 'semblance' is super speed?" Asked the man in the red bodysuit. With a big lightning bolt in the center of his chest, he looked pretty ridiculous, though it wouldn't be the first time she was caught off guard by a guy in a onesie.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've seen it." Yang shrugged. "There was an Ace-Ops chick who really put my sister through the ringer back in Atlas."

"And where's Atlas now?"

"Far as I know, it's still floating where it was when we evacuated." Yang gave a sigh. "Too bad I fell off and now I'm here."

"That's pretty nuts. You think everybody made it?"

"Probably. Even with Cinder and Neopolitan attacking us, I'm sure she kept her head on tight and got everyone out of there."

"You must have a lot of faith in your sister, huh?"

"Oh, uh, y-yeah." Yang blushed. "My sister. Totally."

...........................................................................

Guardians of Peace

"Penny!" Jaune awoke with a start. Looking around, he found himself inside a prison cell. As he approached the green window in front of him, a girl half his size stepped into view. "Uh, hi?"

"Who are you, and why did you come to Oa?"

"Oh-ah?" Jaune repeated. "What's an Oa?" Her eyes went wide, and she turned away cursing at herself. "H-Hey, are you okay? Let's start over. My name is-"

"Prisoner 07132013." The girl finished. "And you were imprisoned on Oa by order of the Guardians while you await your trial."

"Trial?" Jaune looked around. "Wait, what happened to Atlas? And the civilians?! My team-!" Jaune stepped away and started taking deep breaths.

"Um, are you okay?" The girl asked. "What civilians are you talking about?"

"We..." Jaune took one more deep breath. "We were escorting civilians from Atlas to Vacuo using a bridge made between the kingdoms. Suddenly, we were ambushed by Cinder Fall and Neopolitan, both criminals and monsters working for Salem. We tried to fight them off, but Cinder escaped with both of the relics, and I was too late to escape."

"Wow..." The girl breathed. "You're, like, a real hero."

"No." Jaune felt his chest tighten, remembering green eyes just like the girl's. "I'm not a hero."

"Well... I think you're a hero." She looked left and right, then whispered to him. "I'm supposed to be impartial, but I'll be rooting for you. Just... quietly. Really, really quietly." Jaune chuckled at that. "I'm Jessica. And, uh, what was your name again?"

"Jaune." He smiled. "My name is Jaune Arc."

**********************************************

Worst Case Scenario

"And you must understand that I have a... certain image to uphold." The man said, pouring himself a glass of bourbon he keeps on special occasions. Though, he never drank it in front of company. Instead, it was a show of wealth, power, authority. It let people know where they stood with him. "An image that cannot be compromised under any circumstance."

The man approached the window, glaring down at the city. He kept a certain distance away to ensure this... visitor didn't try anything funny. Lex Luthor was a businessman of many interests, chief among them being not dying at the hands of some creature lesser than himself. Or dying at all, really.

"You say you fell from the sky, after being betrayed by your previous employer in a grab for power." He turned around. "I suppose I can relate to such circumstances. I too have been betrayed by those closest to me, and all because I wanted to live in a world that I felt belonged to me."

He kept his eyes on her. If she made a move he didn't like, she would be full of holes from the gun turrets in the ceiling before eleven and at the bottom of the lake before midnight. Still, it was slightly unnerving how she didn't move. She sat perfectly still, poised with a straight back. She clearly had a sort of refined academy, likely similar to his own.

"You want revenge." He stated plainly. "I've met many like you, and only so few of them are not after me. So I must ask. What's in it for me if I help you?"

In an instant, the girl changed in front of him. Her body fell away like shattered glass, replaced by a new face. This time, a different girl sat in front of him, with silver eyes and short hair that ended in red tips. She smiled at him.

"And why should that matter to me? Do you think I'd care about someone I never met?"

The next body she adopted was a man. Tall and imposing with burly muscles and dark hair. The only thing that didn't change with her was the color of the cape behind her. She then drew a thumb across her neck with a sadistic grin.

"So you're saying you saw the girl and Superman with each other? Why should I care?"

At this, Neopolitan changed into Lex, and gave the exact same smarmy smirk he'd been constantly giving her.

"Alright. I'm listening..."

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motherloads · 9 months

Text

I Know You

Summary: Reader who isn't what she seems to be. Supposedly a normal college student working in a grocery store, she has no idea what is about to be revealed. When waking up, she is unknowingly surrounded by the heroes of the DC Universe who have to watch snippets of her life before she jumped into their universe.

->Possible One Shot

-> Word Count: (6,648k)

-> Pairings: Implied! Tim Drake x f!Reader, Past!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (it is not what it looks like)

-> Crossover DC/Marvel, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, Bat family(Main)

-> Warnings: Suicide(not reader), Grieving, Guilt, Miguel being an ass.

a/n: First Official fanfic published! Originally, the first was supposed to be a Star Wars/Moon Knight crossover but I lost motivation lol. It was halfway done before I stopped writing it. I do not see many fics written with crossovers that include the readers so why not? Fic does include song lyrics relating to the situations but this is a watch-it fic! If anyone would like, in the future I can possibly write more related to this universe. :)

Pls ignore grammar mistakes as I ignore Grammarly. This is an escape from my summer courses.

I hate who I was before.

Her eyes dimmed, as they ran through the inventory list for her work. She murmured the calculations under her breath as she pointed out the things that were most likely stolen by the preteens who laughed their way out of only buying 2 red bulls. With a sigh, she writes down the missing inventory.

This would come out of her paycheck.

Songs came and went through the earplugs she had inserted in her ears. At a good volume to hear any incoming customers, she continued on her way to the last aisle.

No, I never knew what it meant, what it meant to be content with you.

It was less likely for people to steal coffee products. She was thankful that this was the last one she had to look through. Despite her shift having another 3 hours to end, she knew her 30 minute lunch break was coming up soon. She hoped nobody would steal her lunch since she forgot to write her name on the box.

She started ticking off the items and counting them in her head. She murmurs the lyrics under her breath, continuing down the aisle.

I’ll quiet down if that’s what you want. I understand I’m not the only one for you.

Someone calls out her name, a familiar voice that brings her out of her thoughts. Lowering her music just a tad bit, she turns to the customer.

Alfred smiles at her kindly, offering a curt nod in which she responded with a smile and a wave. “Have any new creamers?” He questioned her, now looking at the assortment of creamers in front of them.

She shakes her head in response, “It’s very rare for us to have new stock Mister Alfred. Would you like a new recommendation, though?”

He holds a brand she instantly recognized, “That’d be lovely. What about this one?”

“Lovely choice Mister Alfred. Although, I wouldn’t add too much since it will get too sweet. Don’t think Tim would like it.” He smiles in response, putting the creamer in his basket.

“Fortunately, he is still banned from coffee. I assumed he would have told you?” She felt her face grow hot in response. She sends him a sheepish smile.

“We’ve both been busy. Haven’t had the time to talk.”

All I wanted was you.

Alfred knew what she meant, sending her a sad smile. He instantly recognized the signs of people drifting away the moment things got out of their control. He bids his goodbye, walking away from the worker stuck in her own thoughts.

All I wanted was you.

She rubs her cheeks tiredly, making sure to avoid the makeup she woke up early for. Her bags had grown worse during the past month, reminiscing of the old and what it once was. It was not like it was all Tim’s fault, really, that he had begun to slip away when he noticed things started to change between the two. When Steph noticed the change and brought it up with her, she avoided the conversation as a whole.

“People drift apart, Steph. It’s normal.”

Steph scoffs, “It isn’t normal when you guys are best friends! When you worked at that coffee shop before, you were literally the only one who didn’t decline his weird order. Hell, he stayed when you went through that changing major crisis!”

She continues to bag Steph’s groceries, ignoring the looks she was receiving from her coworkers. Things were slow today, it was not her fault Steph decided to confront her while she was at work.

“Steph,” She sighs tiredly, “I really don’t want to talk about this. I just started my shift. Can we talk about this another day?”

Steph grabs her own bags, patting her hands in response, “Fine. I’m here if you need me.”

You’re not who you are to anyone.

She leaves for the break room, notifying her other coworker, who waved her off with a farewell. Taking out her lunchbox, she heats up her leftovers from the weekend. Scrolling through her phone, she sees the spam messages Steph had sent her. Updating her about Tim and their families’ weekly dinner.

It wasn’t like the dinner always worked! Jason almost never shows up unless it is absolutely necessary. Dick uses his status as a cop to get out of dinners. Tim was always working overtime to avoid the dinners. Damian had to be there or else he would be grounded from going out. Cass was almost always there but never began conversations. Duke, the brightest one who tried to start conversations, became demotivated over time. Barbara, sweet Barbara, who worked too far to arrive at the Dinner on time. Steph ranted to her about the family and she could not help it.

She began to cry.

Can you come back to me? ‘Cause I was too blind to see that you were right in front of me.

She missed her friends. But she could not go back after she failed them.

She failed them all.

I’m so sorry Miguel.

She slips her food onto the table, beginning to eat the cold, but at the same time hot lunch.

She wipes the tears from under her eyes, looking through her small pocket mirror to make sure she did not smudge anything. She felt her eyelashes prickle against her eyelids, feeling ticklish and sensitive from the crying. She sniffs the snot away, pushing her half eaten food away. She was no longer hungry and she wanted to go home.

I want to go home.

She throws her food away, diminishing the past thought from her head. Waltzing into the employee bathroom, she leaned her head on her arms in front of the closed door. No matter how nasty this bathroom was, she still managed to find the (almost) silence good for her.

Used to stick together. You’re my best friend, I’ll love you forever

Her time was ticking to go back to work, silently cursing to herself when she realized she forgot to clock out for her lunch. God, her boss is going to reprimand her for this. For any little thing she slipped or missed to do, her boss was on her about it. Guilt tripping her on the problems she can cause with her mistakes.

She was just trying to do her best.

She steps out of the bathroom, manually writing her clocking out and in for lunch. She was back to work.

When she stepped out, she realized how silent it was. There was no noise except for her song.

What’s up danger?

She called out for her coworker but there was no response. She walked down the aisle but there were no customers. When she walked to the front she realized there was nobody.

Everyone was gone.

Everything knocks out of her at once, feeling the prick in the back of her head that something was wrong. Her phone clatters to the floor, yanking her earbuds out of her ear.

She drops to the floor as well, holding her hands to her ears. The world's noises began to grow louder but there was absolutely nobody around. No cars honking, no children playing at the park nearby.

Only the sounds of the birds chirping and the wind picking up outside.

With that, her eyes roll to the back of her head and she knocks out.

⋆｡°✩

When she woke up, she noticed how the noises were dimmed. The same way it was before the spider bite. Before everything occurred. She looked around, sighing in relief when she noticed the people who had similar confused looks.

Her eyes stopped at Tim, who was next to Steph.

Who was next to Cass.

Who was next to Damian.

Who was next to Dick.

Who was next to Bruce.

Who was next to Duke.

Who was next to Alfred.

Who was next to Barbara

Who was next to Jason.

She sees other familiar faces like the famous Clark Kent. She sees him with unfamiliar people. With boys who had similar looks as him.

She noticed others as well, people who looked like they were important. Like they were part of a team.

Is that Wonder Woman?

She noticed in the far corner, there were recognizable people. People who should be in Arkham Asylum. Villains. Her breathing still remained normal despite this.

When people began murmuring their theories, Clark was the one who spoke up, “I would recommend that everyone should sit down. The villains especially.” He set his eyes at the corner.

Harley giggles in response, “Wouldn’t dream of doing anything big guy. Wonder Woman is here after all!”

"Shouldn't we all be finding a way to escape?" A redhead explains, "This was honestly not on my bucket list today. Waking up with Bruce Wayne beside me--no offense."

Bruce grunts in response, ignoring the way his children tried not to laugh at the redheaded man's comment.

She noticed a group of people now going closer to Wonder Woman. Younger in age, they all varied in appearances. One was light orange.

Wasn’t that Starfire?

She sits down hesitantly, avoiding the light to make sure they did not see her. Especially, Tim, he could not see her. Not now, maybe not ever.

Once everyone sat down, things were quiet.

People began to grow restless at the uncomfortable silence. The people who knew who were in this very room had begun to feel suffocated. They hoped this wasn't a trap from their greatest enemy.

A song began to play, one she recognized from her playlist.

Nothing scares me anymore. Kiss me hard before you go Summertime sadness

She stifles her gasp when the big screen flickers, showing a familiar face.

It was her.

She heard others who couldn’t quite hide their gasps while others murmured, wondering who she was.

Tim’s family definitely knew who she was.

She was smiling, her head tilted. Her hair flowed with the wind, sometimes getting in her face but not quite where she felt bothered by it. She still wore the same headphones.

Dressed differently than how she does now, she knew what was hiding behind that outfit. That bulky outfit that she collected from her own friends.

“I think you’re scared,” She laughs, talking to someone who was not shown on the screen. “Afraid you won’t catch me?”

That’s when everyone noticed where she was. On a high building, the colors became brighter as things began to glitch into place. This world was not there. But she still looked the same. How was this possible?

“I ain’t scared,” a deep voice responds, as a teen steps out into the shadows. A familiar face, adorned with piercings and the tiniest bit of smudged eyeliner, smirks at her. A suit, shredded in a way that screamed edgy was displayed as his outfit. “Think you're scared.”

The accent was unrecognizable to the ones living in Gotham.

“Come on Hobie! I can see you shivering in your platforms.” She shakes her head, stepping closer to the ledge. “You scaredy cat. I thought Pav was supposed to be the one scared.”

“Think that’s Meows,” The teen now known as Hobie reasons, “That man ain’t know how to catch a human.”

“Obviously, dumbass,” She rolls her eyes, “He’s a cat!”

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” Hobie warns, “Might wake up to ah dead rat in your bed.” He paused for a moment, before gesturing to her headphones, “ ‘Ink it’s ok to jump like tha’?

She fiddles with her headphones, “I like the hazard of being hung.” She shrugs shamelessly.

“Mmm,” Hobie steps closer, “Or is i’ that you don’ want to speak to Miguel?”

“No,” she immediately shoots back at him, “I don’t need his help.”

“Don’ you think it’s time to move on?”

“I have moved on, Mr. O’Hara is not a problem!” She exclaims, “Why does everyone think I’m in love with the guy? He's old!”

“Technically he was younger.” Hobie shrugs shamelessly, “Ain’t a problem to like older men. What about Oscar Isaac?”

The girl glared harder, “Do NOT bring Poe Dameron into this. This isn’t about him!”

“Suree,” Hobie drawls, “When are ya—“

He gets cut off with a jacket thrown at his face. When he pulls it off, she grins at him innocently.

“See ya around, Punk.”

And she jumps.

The screen turns dark at this, the people viewing it sharing looks of confusion and awe.

“So did she die?” Jason was the first to speak, shrugging shamelessly when Dick smacked his head in response.

“Obviously not,” Steph argues, “She’s my friend. I would know if she’s dead!”

"She always makes morbid jokes like this?" Duke questions Steph, who glares at him in return, "Hey--I'm just asking!"

Tim stayed quiet throughout this whole ordeal.

The screen flickers on.

But I got needs, yeah, I got needs. I want war, But I need peace And you kept calling me crazy But baby that's what you made me

“Have you ever been in love?” A teen asks, playing with his fries through the cane’s sauce. His chicken tenders were left untouched.

“I think everyone has been in love at least once now,” She responds back to the younger teen, taking a sip of her Sprite. “Why? Are you in love with Gwen?”

“Yeah,,,” He sighs, his eyes widening when he realizes what he said, “What! No, No— I have never been in love! Not with Gwen! Totally, definitely not. Not after what she did, siding with Mig—“ He stops, looking at her sheepishly.

“Sorry. I know how much you like him.” She scowls in response to his comment.

“I do NOT like Mr. O’Hara. Never will, Miles. Do not say that again, or I’ll tell Gwen you painted a mural for her.” She threatens, pointing a chicken tender at the teen now known as Miles.

“Okay! I promise! Sheesh— I should have never shown you!” Miles rubs his neck embarrassingly. He closes up his half-eaten box of chicken tenders.

“Back to patrolling?” She asks, throwing her own tray of food. ��Wanna find a kid in need to give that to?”

Miles nods in response, walking out with her.

“So…who is your first love?” He questions her as they walk down the street together.

“He’s long gone.”

“Canon event?”

“Canon event.” She agreed.

“How—How did it happen?” Miles hesitantly asks.

She smiles sadly, “We heroes think we know everything. Think we’re saving everyone. We don’t see the struggles our loved ones are facing just by breathing every day.”

“Did he…”

“Yes, Miles. He did.”

The screen turns black.

“Well,” Barry scratches his head awkwardly, “This has been…informative…but who is she? Or anyone else shown? Or Miguel? The recurring character.”

“I think they’re real people, Barry.” Cyborg answers. “Real people dealing with real things.”

“Heroes,” Poison Ivy hisses, “Always heroes.”

I thought you were my new best friend. Wish I knew better then. Who knew you were just out to get me? My whole world just fell apart. Cause I never felt so alone, felt so alone.

She is pushed to the floor, huffing puffs of air into her lungs. She was tired. So so tired.

“Please Mr. O’Hara,” She gasps, “I can’t—I can’t take it anymore.”

“Heroes don’t give up.” An older man snarls in the dark, darting around the girl, “Heroes keep fighting. They never stop. We never stop.”

“You—“ She wobbles up to a fighting stance, surveying the dark room. She dodges his first attack, but the next hit her right in the stomach. She doubles over in pain. “You are no hero. After everything you did? This—This society is not—“

She gets cut off when he grabs her from behind, putting her in a chokehold, “Say that again, I dare you.” He hisses into her ear.

His face is clear. A man, tired from age and wrinkles adorning his face. His lips twisted up in a snarl, showing off his sharp teeth. His eyes glow red in response. His height compared to the girl was intimidating to the eyes.

She struggles against his hold, slamming her head back to hit his chin. He lets go as she pushes herself away. He loses his balance and grabs the first thing close to his vicinity.

He grabs her headphones.

Noises suddenly blossom everywhere, causing her to stumble to her knees. The noises grew louder as various voices surrounded her. The familiar humming of the machines is felt under her fingers, through the floor.

“It hurts so much!” She cries, holding her ears together, “Please, Please make it stop!” She rocks herself back and forth, screaming in the room that should have no noise. But her senses were enhanced. Too enhanced for her body to handle. She could not live a regular life without something blocking out most noises from the world.

As abrupt as it came, it suddenly stopped. A whirring sound connected to her ears adjusted her hearing to her surroundings. Her soft music starts to play once again.

She touches the back of her ears carefully, feeling an unfamiliar placement of a small mechanism there.

She looks up at Miguel who showed no response to what he had done. How he had just helped her.

“H-How—“ She murmurs, “How did you know?”

“I know everything about you. Was going to wait until you asked. How was I supposed to know that you’re a stubborn son of a bitch who is still in love with my counterpart? Avoiding your boss isn’t wise, you know. ”

She glares in response, “Was. And it wasn’t you. It never was you and you know that.”

“I know,” Miguel shifts his stance, “Let’s go again.”

“Okay so that’s Miguel,” Harvey cooed, “He’s so! Delicious! I wonder if he bites his lovers.” She giggles, squishing her cheeks together as she sways around.

“If it isn’t him, then who is it?” Bruce questions, “None of this is making any sense. Is she around? Can she answer questions?”

Before they could begin looking around, another scene begins.

What’s the kindest way to say You took away my friend, my buddy? What’s the kindest way to say. The end?

“Miguel!” She calls out, removing her shoes at the entrance of his place, “Your brother called me to check up on you! He’s been worried?” She has no answer in response.

“Miguel?” She questions, stepping farther into the dark apartment. There seemed to be nobody, but she knew better. She smells the blood from where she was.

“Don’t do this to me,” She whispers, “Come on, don’t do this…” She steps closer to the bathroom, the only place that had the lights on.

“Miguel? Are you—Are you in there?” She nudges the door open. But, she immediately falls back when she sees the familiar puddle of red.

There laid a younger Miguel, face clear of wrinkles. His eyes are closed, his hand holding a gun in return. She kneels down next to him, looking for his pulse. Anything to show that she wasn't too late.

There was nothing.

All she could see was the red on her hands. The red of his blood. His blood had been cold.

His body had been dead for hours.

She cried, holding his body close to her chest, feeling his cold skin against her warm skin. She felt his eyelashes against her cheek. She felt his lips on her neck.

She felt the gun wound on the side of his head.

The scene switches in front of a gravestone. There, an unfamiliar person stood in front of it. Her face was obscured by a motorcycle helmet. It glowed in response to her eyes, narrowed in the familiar spider eyes that they all had.

Her suit is predominantly displayed in several colors to blend in the night. The spider emblem was bright against her chest, glowing in response to her heart as if it was humming. As if it was alive and a part of her.

“I could have saved him.” She placed the flowers on the grave, pressing her hand against the cool surface.

“Gabriel texted me an hour before he shot himself. Gabriel could tell something was off but I was… patrolling. I was doing my job.”

The figure’s helmet disappeared as if it was never there, showing the girl they all had been seeing.

The girl they recognized now as one of the workers at the grocery store many frequented. The one that was posted on Tims and Steph’s Instagram page. The one Alfred spoke to for recommendations on items he should buy from the grocery store. The one who once met Dick when she had to file a police report for a robbery gone wrong.

She had been the one who secretly gave Duke an employee discount. The one who refused to sell Jason alcohol because his appearance didn’t match his age. She was the one who occasionally offered Cass affordable options for alternative clothing. She was the one who agreed to take in a cat that Damian could not keep. She was the one who Barbara frequently saw visiting the library.

Her eyes, tired from the lack of sleep she’s been getting, teared up at her thoughts, “He could have been alive. I could have saved him.”

“What kind of hero am I?” She whispered, “I’m so sorry Miguel.”

A voice calls out her hero's name. Quickly, her helmet appears again, covering her identity. She turns to narrow her eyes at the woman calling her name.

Jessica leaned against a tree. A brilliance of orange, red, and multiple shades of purple was behind her, “You ready to go? Gotta have your introduction to our Society first.”

“Yeah, yeah, Mom,” She shakes her head in response, walking towards the woman who was evidently pregnant, “Let’s get outta here. Who's your leader again?”

“You’ll see,” Is what Jessica responds. When they walk through the portal, it disappears as if it wasn’t there.

“Oh,” Barry responds dumbly, “That’s Miguel.”

“Why did she never tell us…” Steph whispers, turning to Tim, who turned a lighter shade. He looked sick to his stomach from the recent video.

How did he not notice she was going through something? How could he not push away his selfishness and see what was wrong? He should have. He definitely should have.

Afterall, that’s the girl he likes.

“Well technically he’s alive again, right?” Jason questions. “Mr. O’Hara dude? Anyone?”

“I don’t think…” Barbara hesitated, “I don’t think they’re the same person.”

“All evidence points that they are not the same. First, the age difference. Second, the comments everyone has been making in the videos.” Dick supplies helpfully.

“Then who is that guy?” Duke questions, “A clone?”

“Possibly.” Cass signs, “The pit?”

“No, that can’t be possible.” Talia, who had not shown she was there, spoke up, “I would know if he was dragged there.”

“Mother,” Damian scoffs, “Of course you would have a book keeping that.”

“Anyone going to talk about the portal? Hello?” Duke questions, receiving looks of equal confusion from the Waynes.

But I'm not like the others. I don’t always like what I have to do. But I know I have to be the one to do it. I’ve given too much to stop now.

“What’s this?” A familiar face pops up. It is Miles. A blue, glowing orb is represented in front of him in a dark room. He was wearing an unfamiliar suit with a familiar emblem.

“This is everything.” Miguel, in his glory, is in front of Miles. His height was terrifying and intimidating.

When the orb hits the floor, it suddenly begins to sprout in a bright blue light. It started to spread like blood pumping in veins.

“Can you be more specific?” Miles questions.

“Can you not talk for a second?” Miguel snarks back. Miles agreed.

Red had started to spread.

“This here…is all of us.”

“All of our lives, woven together in a beautiful web of life and destiny.”

“The Spider-verse,” Miles murmured.

“Spider-verse? Huh— that’s…stupid. It’s called the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse.” Miles gave a look towards Miguel.

Miguel concedes, “Which sounds…stupid, too, I guess.”

“In these nodes where the lines converge?” Miles' sentence falls off but Miguel continues, “they are the canon.”

“Chapters that are a part of every spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad, some very bad.”

Different scenes and pictures are presented to Miles who looks in awe. When Miguel moved his hands, an array of heroes with similar suits showed up, kneeling over their loved ones body.

At the last one, it showed Miles losing his Uncle.

As Miguel continues to explain, the dread had started to pool in everyone's stomach. They weren’t liking where this was going.

As many spiders are shown, there are canon events. There was one that many recognized. The death of Miguel.

“Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together. But those connections can be broken. That’s why anomalies are so dangerous.”

Miguel had begun to grow more assertive towards Miles, showing him the problem he had caused with disrupting Pav’s canon event.

“You weren’t supposed to save him. That’s why Gwen tried to stop you.”

“I thought you were trying to save me.” Miles turned to an unfamiliar face, now known as Gwen. She looked guilty.

When Miles questions Miguel on how he knew this would happen, Miguel reveals his own secret.

“I found a world where I had a family, where I was happy.” The scenes shift to a little girl and Miguel, happy together. They were so happy, she did not have a clue on what was going to happen.

“At least a version of me was…and that version of myself was killed. So I replaced him.”

The girl's face was more clear, Miguel so happy—opposite of who he was now.

Citizens were running—from what they had no clue. But they feared for their lives. Miguel ran too, holding his sweet, sweet girl. He continued to run, despite the glitching she was experiencing.

She cries in fear, “Daddy! Dad! Dad, help!” Slowly but surely, she disappeared from his grip. She was gone, as if she was never there.

“We could lose everything.” Everything breaks all at once, disappearing from view.

“My dad is about to be Captain...” Miles realizes. It began panning to the people in the room. The familiar girl appeared, shifting her feet restlessly, free from her helmet.

Suddenly, Miles's spider senses began to overload. His memories continuously shift to an unfamiliar white figure and himself. The figure had abruptly turned pitch black, glitching as it ruined everything from its vicinity.

“I’m going to take everything from you, like you took everything from me.”

An unfamiliar cop was running towards a small child who was frozen in fear in front of a building that was collapsing.

Miles grew restless, asking Miguel of his fathers death.

“I’m sorry, Miles.” Miles refused the apology, asking, almost begging to be sent home.

“Send me home! What else am I supposed to do? Let him die?” The no response was a clear answer to him, but he could not accept it.

He began projecting towards Gwen, trying to make her see reason. Nobody was listening. Why was nobody listening?

He then attacks an unfamiliar man, holding a baby who cooed cluelessly at the situation. The man also deflected Miles’ projection.

“And you? What about you, huh? You said you’d do anything to go back in time! You won’t give me that chance either?” She looks away from Miles, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. She stayed silent, knowing what her answer was.

“So we’re just supposed to let people die just because some algorithm says that’s supposed to happen?”

“You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world—every world.”

“I can do both! Spider-man always—“ Miles gets cut off by Peter. That’s when Miles began to notice the people surrounding him.

“Being Spider-Man is a sacrifice. That’s the job and that’s what you signed up for.”

Miles grew more agitated at the people surrounding him.

“You should have never come to see me.” Miles directed to Gwen. His pain was reflected in his eyes. He turns his attention to Miguel, directly stepping forward to face the man. Their prolonged eye contact intensified the situation.

All of a sudden, Miles is trapped in red. He couldn’t get out. They weren’t letting him out. Why were they not letting him out? He bangs on the red blocking him from the rest as everyone argues in the background.

“Palms,” Hobie mouthed. With her helmet back on, the girl stepped closer to the red projection blocking her.

“Do what everyone else can’t, Miles.”

With that, Miles pressed his palms onto the red prison blocking him. Blue electricity ran through his fingertips and followed through his palms. He released his entire electricity current as the room erupted in the remains of the red prison. Many were hit on impact.

Miles breathed deeply, staring at the masked heroes who were gaining their senses back from the explosion.

“Run.”

“Spider-Verse,” Barry Allen gasps, “Is this the multiverse? But for them? Oh my god! This must mean she’s a part of this universe. We should find her, to ask her more about this Society. Are they like the Justice League?” He rambles as others groaned at his tangent. His voice sped up at the end, which caused everyone to realize how interested he was in the subject.

“Is Miguel a bad guy?” Jason questions instead, “Hell, he seems to play the role just fine.”

“Not necessarily,” Bruce argued, “It seems like he has a valid reason for doing so.”

“Yeah, but…would you not do anything if you knew of your future? I think Miles' feelings are valid.” Dick tries to reason with Bruce.

Damien scoffs, “Obviously not, Grayson. It would be a necessary sacrifice to lose one life over everyone.”

“It’s his father, though,” Steph meekly responds, “Tim? Back me up on this?”

“I…” Tim hesitates, “Maybe we should hear this from the source? The connection we all have?”

Before they can find her, the final scene begins.

I’m comin’ through with my crew to make ‘em pay. I don’t need no super suit, I’m feeling brave Don’t be a hero, turn around and walk away. Who in here tryna start a riot?

She hums as the lyrics fill her ears, packaging the orders for the recent customer who had used over 20 food stamps to lower her price. There was a maximum of 5 food stamps, and everyone knew the rules. But, she was feeling generous.

“I hope you have a nice day.” She smiles at her customer, a grateful mother who quickly deposited her bags into her trolley. The woman thanks her in response as she leaves.

“There seems to be a lockdown at a Wayne Gala. No bats seem to be near the premise as unfamiliar villains hold the citizens' hostage. These hostages include the Wayne Family…” The news continues speaking of the situation, the girl focusing on the broadcast.

“The villains seem to be demanding a hero. No heroes go by this name. A Spider…Woman? Do I hear this correctly?”

She tenses up at this, her eyes widening as the helicopter zooms closer to the villain closest to the window.

It was her Green Goblin.

Peter Parker.

“I—“ She looks at her coworker, who looks at her confusingly, “There’s been an emergency. I have to go.”

“Our boss will fire you if you leave!” Another coworker pipes up, “They’ll replace you, I don’t think—“

“Then I quit. I have to go.” With that, she removes her employee’s t-shirt, leaving it on the conveyor belt.

“I’m sorry, Stan,” she apologizes to her next customer, “Your groceries are on me.”

Stan waves her off, “Go save the world, kid.” With a confused look at him, she leaves the grocery store.

“What do we do?” Tim hisses, pointing a glare at Damian who was held down by Cass. They couldn’t believe they were being held by new villains.

“Stay put,” Bruce was on his phone, trying to get into contact with Barbara. “They stopped any communications from the outside. I can’t get through to O.”

“You think Red knows?” Dick questions beside him, “They all have to know what’s going on, right?”

“Like he’d come,” Damian scoffs, “He hates all of us.”

“He wouldn’t leave innocent civilians to die,” Dick shoots back, “He wouldn’t.”

“He totally would,” Tim argues, “These are all rich folks. He absolutely despises them all.”

With those final words, they all quieted down.

“They’re blocking all the exits,” Bruce says after a moment, “I thin—“ He gets cut off from a window smashing into themselves, an unfamiliar person jumping through the hole created. Screams are heard as many stepped back from the glass flying everywhere.

“Heard you were looking for me,” The voice calls out. Her helmet’s eyes narrowed at the main villain, who snarls in response, “Now I’m here, Parker.”

“It’s GREEN GOBLIN!” The villain roars angrily, “Peter Parker is not here right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” The figure’s rolls her eyes—well helmets eyes, “Take that up with my boss.”

“It is idiotic for you to appear with no backup. All alone, bug?” Another voice hissed out, a black, looming figure that grinned. His array of teeth showed off the leftover blood from his past victims. His eyes, similar to the unfamiliar woman, grinned with his smile, “What a bad idea.”

“Bad, Bad idea.” Another voice agreed, a woman sitting atop the lights above the ballroom. The vulture squawked in laughter, giggling at the lonely woman.

“Ain’t got no friends,” cooed the lizard. Their voice, combined with many, left their identity unrecognizable. Their height overpowered the rest of the villains, nearly similar to Venom’s.

“Who says I came alone?”

With those words, different portals had begun to open around the room. Different figures stepped out, a specific two high-fiving one another.

“Spiders!” Doc Oc shouts, “There are more!”

A portal opened up near the Wayne’s. Bruce protectively put himself in front of his kids. What a way to protect them when he couldn’t before.

The man loomed at Bruce, tilting his masked face at the family. He was silent for a moment.

“You Batman?” The man asks, “Don’t worry. We got this from here.” With those words, the man began instructing the other spiders.

“Byte! Get the civilians out of here. Escort them to the nearest exits.” He calls out, hearing confirmation from a woman who glowed blue.

“Pav, you and Punk get the Lizard. Try not to get bitten by them.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Pav salutes, running towards Lizard who growled in anger. He swipes at Spider-Punk, who easily dodges his attacks.

“Web-slinger! Vulture is coming at you!” A shot resonated in response. Everyone grew nervous, looking at the man in a cowboy outfit. The man was not who they were freaked about. It was the horse that was matching with him.

Venom stepped forward, grinning at the cat dressed similarly to one of the other spiders. The cat blinked up at the man-eating villain. No thoughts behind his expression.

“Someone get the cat away from Venom!” He hears another confirmation as Gwen scoops up Meows Morales before Venom can take a bite. With the both of them, they both decided to prance around Venom.

Jessica Drew revved her motorcycle engine, lining the floor with her wheels as she guides her motorcycle to hit Doc Oc head-on. She grins in return, her belly no longer evident.

“All that leaves is…”

Green Goblin snarls at the fights surrounding him, avoiding the hits from the woman in the helmet. “Focus on our fight, Parker! Don’t want nobody to steal your attention!” She snarks, finally kicking him in the stomach.

His glider slams into her back at the same time. She grunts in frustration, grabbing at the ends of the glider and hitting him with it instead. “Coward!”

“Mierda…” The man whispers, “Stand down, Astro!”

The woman whips her head at him in response to her nickname. The nickname to tell a difference between the Spider’s when in battle.

“Stand down.” The man asserted, “I’ll handle this.”

“Old man,” she replies back, grunting suddenly as she avoids the onslaught of Green Goblin who continues his relentless attacks, “He’s my villain. I’ll handle this.”

“They’re all your villains, kid.” He replies back, joining her in the fight. Green Goblin screams are filled with pure malice at the continuous attacks from both sides. “Go get the Wayne’s out. And suited.”

“Suited? I don’t know if you’re delusional but they are in suits.”

“Stop ignoring me! At once!” Green Goblin screams, pulling at his mask as he slams it down angrily.

“Shut up Parker!” They both snapped at the villain. The man turns to Astro, “They’ll know what you mean.”

With one final punch to Green Goblin, she lets Miguel handle the rest. As she walks closer to the Wayne’s, Miguel is shown behind her, his eyes from his mask shifting to glare at Green Goblin. Miguel slams him to the ground, sitting on his back as the Green Goblin’s face smooshes against the floor. Miguel’s face is obscured from sight, no one could tell what he had planned. When his mask dematerializes, Miguel bites down with a small grunt.

Green Goblin howls in pain, feeling himself go slack in Miguel’s grip. Miguel stands up, his mask back on, blocking his face from the viewers.

“Oh he’s definitely dead.” Cass confirms.

“He isn’t,” the woman is in front of them, tilting her helmet at the Wayne’s. “Mr. Bossman says you all should suit up. I’m sorry, I think he has bad eyesight.”

“How—“ Bruce glares around the room, seeing the various heroes bring the villains down. Venom, who was now a red headed woman, was knocked out cold. The cat held a vile with an angry, black slug.

The Lizard was entangled in two different webs and slackened into himself as Pav and Punk high-fived one another. They ignored the look they received from Miguel, who had paralyzed their opponent.

Doc Oc talked into themselves with their limbs, murmuring an apology to Jessica. They had a look of pure embarrassment with how they hung upside down.

Vulture pouted from under the horse, who absentmindedly licked the sugar given Web-Slinger. He smoothened out his horse’s mane, softly cooing at them.

“How does he know who I am?” Bruce asks her.

“He knows everyone, Mr. Wayne. Can’t hide anything. Believe me, I’ve tried to hide my weed.” She jokes. The only one who let out a laugh was Dick, who immediately covered it up.

“That was a joke.”

“So he definitely knows.” Tim spoke up from the uncomfortable silence. “He literally said your alias, Bruce.”

“Bruce Wayne is Batman?!” Harley screeches, “I knew it! I totally knew it!”

“No, you didn’t,” Poison Ivy frowns, “You thought Jon Bernthal was Batman.”

“Does that mean…he knows everyone else?” Jason asks, “And is anyone going to mention how he bit that villain? Literally nobody?”

“Is nobody going to talk about the cat?!” Damian hisses, “Alfred can do the same!”

“Do not get any ideas, Master Damian,” Alfred reprimands.

“Guess I need to reintroduce myself.” She spoke up, standing from her position as she waved at everyone who snapped their head towards her.

She grins, her facade of the normal grocery store employee fading from their view. Her clothing shifted in their eyes as the suit began to materialize against her skin.

She gives her name, “I’m one of the many Spider-Woman from the multiverse…although your universe is a completely different path with their own worlds intertwined . I just decided to land in the less…traumatic one.”

“I’m your world's only Spider-Woman, Astro Spider.” She makes eye contact with Tim, her smile widening.

“It’s nice to finally meet this world’s heroes.”

I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime. Tell them, Tell 'em, Tell them the truth.

#tim drake x reader #crossover #dc universe #spiderverse x reader #red robin x reader #tim drake imagine #dc comics #batfam imagine #identity reveal #song fic #dc universe x marvel universe #batfam

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