Jason Todd Imagine - Tumblr Posts

Vigilante Book Club Part 3

Jason Todd x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 - Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober, and for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Day Four Prompt: "No, we're not doing that."

Summary: Jason and his new SO have their official first date.

Word Count: 2,216

Category: Fluff

A/N: Shoutout to @v1ckycheesue for commenting about wanting to see the date! I wasn't sure I was going to come back to this idea, but something just popped into my head, so now we're here :) No promises, but there might also be a part 4 at some point on the horizon!

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I stepped out of my building with a smile, waving as soon as I caught sight of Jason on his motorcycle, waiting for me right where he said he'd be. After months of friendship and forming a mini book club with the Red Hood, earlier this week, I'd learned his secret identity thanks to a phone call from one of his brothers. Thankfully, Jason didn't mind, and even better, it had led to Jason asking me out on a date. He'd had a bit of a family situation to attend to earlier, but tonight was the night, and having him meet me outside my apartment on his motorcycle was certainly a good start.

"Hey!" I called once I was close enough. "How did the family dinner disaster go?"

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It went great, once I got there and kicked everyone else out of the kitchen. Somewhere between five and ten of us regularly attending family events and somehow I'm still the only one who knows how to cook."

I grinned. "Well, from personal experience, I can attest that you are an excellent chef."

"Thanks, babe," he said, huffing a laugh as I finally reached him. He held out one arm for a hug, and I stepped into him, wrapping both my arms around his shoulders as he sat on his bike. He brought his other hand up to rest on my hip, giving it a light squeeze before moving me a step back from him. "You look great."

"Thanks! You do too. So... are you gonna tell me what we're doing tonight?"

"Not yet," he said with a grin. "I still want our first stop to be a surprise. But you do need one more thing before we go."

I raised an eyebrow as Jason turned around on the bike, digging into one of the side bags before turning back to me with a bright red helmet in hand.

"Here, let me help you get it on."

I smiled, Jason helping me pull the helmet down over my head before holding either side of it, giving it a little shake to make sure it fit snugly. He grabbed the part right in front of my mouth and ran his finger across it, giving me a satisfied smile.

"Looks good. Go ahead and hop on, and we can get out of here."

I climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping my arms tightly around Jason's waist as he pulled his own red helmet on over his head. It wasn't the same as his Red Hood helmet, but it did look pretty similar. I grinned, even though Jason couldn't see me.

"You ready sweetheart?" he asked, his voice crackling over an in-helmet comms system. I nodded, then realized how unhelpful that was.

"Yeah, I'm ready. Although I do have a question."

"What's that?" Jason asked. He started the bike as he spoke, the engine roaring beneath us.

"As somebody trying to maintain a secret identity, don't you think it's a little conspicuous that you've got a motorcycle helmet the exact same color as your vigilatne helmet? And almost the same style?"

I heard Jason huff a laugh, and his response took a few moments to come through the radio. Part of that might've been Jason trying to focus while he merged with traffic, but he'd never be able to convince me that was the entire reason.

"Nobody's figured it out yet," he finally said. Now it was my turn to laugh.

"Well, there you go, I guess. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you that nobody in Gotham suddenly becomes observant. You know, I could repaint your helmet in some sparkly colors for you, maybe put some stickers on it that say 'NOT Red Hood', help you keep your secret. We could make it a date night."

Jason snorted. "No, we're not doing that."

"Your loss babe."

I held tight to Jason as we swept through the city streets, looking over his shoulder and trying to figure out exactly where we were headed. I didn't put it together until we turned a corner and pulled into the parking lot for my absolute favorite bookstore in the city.

I gasped, and I heard Jason chuckle over the radio.

"I take it you're excited?"

"Jason, I got nothing but green flags from you from the moment you brought my favorite book back to me, but I cannot begin to tell you how amazing this surprise is. This is my dream date."

Jason chuckled again, pulling the bike into a spot near the front as he responded.

"I'm glad a bookstore date's as exciting to you as it is to me."

"Oh my god, you have no idea. You are actually a dream come true."

"Right back at you, sweetheart."

With that, he stepped off the bike and pulled his helmet off, taking mine from me a moment later when I did the same. I had a beaming smile on my face that I couldn't wipe off if I tried, and as soon as he saw it, Jason smiled too.

"Alright, I'll never be the one to put limits on getting books, but let me tell you what I was thinking for tonight," he said, taking my hand and helping me off the bike. We started walking to the front doors together, shoulder to shoulder and hands held tight. "I was thinking we each pick a book, ideally one the other person hasn't read before. Then we do an exchange and read the books the other person picked out for us."

Jason looked at me as we came to a stop just inside the bookstore, apparently waiting for my reaction. Like he hadn't just said something out of a romance novel.

I leaned up to kiss his cheek, squeezing his hand as I did. When I pulled back with a smile, Jason had one eyebrow raised.

"That sounds absolutely perfect," I said, and a minute later his face broke out in a wide grin.

"Okay, good. I'll go get your book, you go get mine. Whoever's done first finds the other."

"Deal. Let's do this."

Jason and I headed off in different directions, hunting through the bookstore for just the right book. A few weeks ago, he'd told me he'd never read Dracula, one of my favorite books and a classic that seemed right up his alley. We'd talked about reading it together for our informal book club, but we hadn't done it yet, and I couldn't think of a better book to get him for our date.

Unfortunately, we were in a bookstore, so I had to make a few detours on my way to my goal. I ended up with a small stack in my arms by the time I finally made it to Dracula, and I chewed my lip in thought as I stood betwen the stacks. What if he didn't have room for us to put these on the bike? What if we were going somewhere after this where the books would be a problem? I rarely managed to walk into a bookstore and walk out with nothing more than what I'd gone for, but maybe I could just take picture of the other titles with my phone-

"There you are."

I turned to see Jason behind me, a stack of books in his own arms. I grinned.

"I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who made a few pitstops on my way to the date book," I said. Jason scoffed.

"Of course not. I don't trust people who can easily avoid detours in bookstores."

"Neither do I. It's for sure a red flag."

"Well, I'm glad we both passed the test," he said, grinning again. "Now come on, you ready? I think it's time for the next part of our date."

"I'll follow you."

Jason and I checked out with both our stacks of books, which he carefully loaded into one of the bags on his motorcycle. It was a tight fit, but he managed to make everything work without any of the books being at risk of bent pages. The other bag remained conspicuously closed, and I raised an eyebrow at him as he helped me get my helmet on again.

"Is there a reason you didn't split the books between both bags?"

"Yeah."

"...And that reason would be?"

"A surprise." He grinned. "Come on, you'll know in a minute. It's not too far of a drive from here."

I climbed on the back of the bike behind Jason, holding onto him tight as we wound through the city streets. Before long, we were leaving the traffic behind, turning onto narrower and narrower tree-lined roads climbing up one of the mountains outside of the city.

"This is a pretty murder-y date spot, just so you know," I said over our comms. I felt Jason's chest rise and fall with a laugh under my hands the same time it came crackling over the radio.

"Are you trying to warn me about something, sweetheart?"

I shrugged. "I mean, you're the Red Hood. I think we're both probably pretty safe."

He huffed another laugh, taking one hand briefly off the handlebars to squeeze mine. I wrapped my arms around him a little tighter, and after a few more minutes of riding on darkened trails, we came out on top of one of the tallest hills. Jason parked the bike, then hopped off and offered a hand to help me. We both knew I didn't need it, but I took it anyway.

"Alright, this is one of my favorite spots in the whole city," Jason said, tucking both our helmets away before opening the tank bag that didn't have books in it. He pulled out a basket with one hand, then grabbed mine again with the other.

I followed him to the treeline, until we reached a ledge overlooking the city. I stopped short, letting out a little gasp. I'd never seen it from a vantage point like this before. All the lights sparkled like stars, while the forest around us was perfectly peaceful.

"Wow," I breathed. "Jay... this place is amazing."

"I know. And even better, none of my siblings know how to find it."

I laughed, watching as Jason took out a blanket and unfolded it, then started setting up the rest of an evening picnic.

"You know, I'd actually really like to meet your siblings."

"Oh don't worry, you will. They've been wondering for a while now who I've been meeting up with regularly. They're all nosy motherfuckers, they'll probably show up in disguise to crash our next date."

"...Is it weird that I'm kind of excited for that?"

"Yes. Extremely."

I just laughed again, moving to join Jason on the picnic blanket he'd set up for us. I sighed and leaned into him as he wrapped one arm around my shoulders.

"I have to say, this might be the best date I've ever been on. Buying each other books and a romantic picnic overlooking the city? That's impossible to beat," I said.

"That was my goal," he said, pulling me closer with a grin. "I'm glad I succeeded. Now come on, I don't want this food I packed going to waste."

Jason and I dug into the picnic, which was packed full of our favorite foods. We laughed and talked the night away, perfectly comfortable, just the two of us. It was technically our first date, but we'd been spending our nights together for long enough that a peaceful, romantic night together seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

"Jason, that was amazing," I sighed, leaning into him once we'd finished dinner. He leaned back on his hands, and I curled into his side.

"Yeah. It was. You know, I'm really glad that guy stole your favorite book."

"I guess that's one way to say you're glad you met me."

Jason grinned and leaned in to kiss my temple. "You get me."

I sighed, and the two of us just sat there together for a while, curled up on the blanket and looking out at the city. Finally, I sighed.

"So... what would you think if I proposed a finale for this date?"

"That depends. Is this a subtle way of telling me you're ready for the date to be over?"

"No! I just had an idea I think you'll like, and I want to pull my weight a little on making this the most magical evening ever."

"Oh yeah?" Jason asked, sitting up and moving me with him. I turned to face him, a giant smile on my face as his hands wandered to my waist. "And what might that idea be?"

"I was thinking we could go back to my place..."

"I'm with you so far."

"And then I was thinking we could make some tea and curl up on the couch and read the books we got for each other."

Jason grinned, putting one hand at the nape of my neck and pulling me in for a kiss. I smiled into it, leaning forward and resting my hands on his chest as Jason deepened it. When he finally pulled back, I was breathing hard.

"That sounds fucking perfect. You're literally my dream date, let's go."

I laughed, especially as Jason packed up our picnic with record speed, then took my hand and nearly dragged me back towards the bike. The two of us laughed the whole ride to my apartment, only to cuddle close on the couch while we started reading hand-picked books together. It was definitely too early to call, but I wouldn't mind spending the rest of my nights just like this.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos

You felt tired, exhausted, because that kept happening. Jason never showed his emotions no matter how much you said you loved him, that you were there for him, that you would understand him, that you tried hard for that at least.

It wasn't that simple for Jason, not for someone like him who felt like he didn't deserve that feeling (love). Seeing families smiling, houses being perfect. He couldn't believe that something so magical and pure could be his.

You were so perfect, so perfect that he didn't think he deserved you. He would catch himself in the middle of the night looking at the goat discreetly seeing his wonderful woman lying in bed in the middle of the night. "Oh God...how I love her..." he would say so quietly that not even he could hear.

But when you were here, looking at him saying how hurt you were because he didn't show you how he felt... he felt panic, his heart was beating desperately. How could his... his... his beloved leave him? He couldn't. He couldn't.

"Look... I'm sorry but I-" You tried to continue but what you heard made you stop... were those? sobs?, looking at Jason you saw him crying. Kneeling at his feet. That six-foot-tall man was crying at his feet. He looked so broken that his chest immediately twisted.

"Please choose me. Nobody ever chooses me. Please.." he said as he sobbed, his chest felt crushed so hard that he didn't know how to describe it, knowing that his beloved, the love of his life was leaving him was like losing his breath.

"Please, please, I...I love you, I know I'm hard to deal with, I have my crises, I'm terrible at showing affection, but please, stay, please love me. I would hate to lose you."

You held him in your arms, so tightly that he felt safe that night. You felt that this time he would know that someone would be there with him. Forever.

😭- oh my god I just cried over this.

I will be doing the asks, yes, I will, but I wanted to do this so much

@blu3n - my authorship

DC UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

i’m a batman girl at heart, sorry clark.

(R = request) ( ❥ = fluff) (❦ = angst)

Batboys/Batman/Batsis/Batfam:

BRUCE WAYNE

no works posted yet

DICK GRAYSON (not yj)

no works posted yet

JASON TODD

no works posted yet

TIM DRAKE

After hours. (R)- f!r- she can take care of herself, man.

DAMIAN WAYNE

Older Brother HCs (R)- gn!r. damian as an older bro

BATSIS

no works posted yet

BATFAM

Azalea Isley (R)- gn!r- you bring home a villain gf

Young Justice:

DICK GRAYSON (yj)

no works posted yet

WALLY WEST

no works posted yet

KALDUR’AHM

no works posted yet

ARTEMIS CROCK

no works posted yet

CONNOR KENT

no works posted yet

M’GANN M’ORZZ

no works posted yet

Miscellaneous Members of DC

Hi! i wanted to request a batfam where the reader is the youngest batsibling (maybe 14-15) and is nervous to introduce their first bf or gf to her family. they are all really confused why she's so nervous until they meet readers partner and realise they're the child of one of the gotham villains. eventually they realise that readers partner isn't evil like their parent(s).

Azalea Isley

WC: 2405

SYNOPSIS: Your girlfriend comes from different circumstances. You just hope your adopted family will look past her not-so-perfect family and open their minds. Maybe a flower can survive in a batcave? heh. maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

Pairings: GN!Reader x OC, GN!Batsib!Reader x Batfamily

Azalea Isley, or Zales, as you call her, has been your girlfriend for one year, two months and six days. You met back when you were 13 while on patrol. You ran into her when looking for her mother, Pamela Isley, aka, Poison Ivy.

~

“Robin, search the North wing, S/N, take the South. I’m going to scout the middle. Ivy is tricky and has eyes everywhere. Stay vigilant and stay on comms.” Batman bluntly ordered.

After escaping Arkham Asylum, rumors of Ivy’s whereabouts were spreading like fire, er uh, forest fire. People were saying she had been spotted hiding out at her old workplace; The Gotham Botany Preserve. It’s abandoned now, but naturally, it was your job to investigate.

You discreetly made your way to the South wing, feet silently walking as you listened for any signs of Ivy’s presence. You made your way down the cathedral-like hallway. The cascading walls were covered in thick, dark green vines climbed up towards the ceiling, and weaved around the stained glass windows that lined the hall. A yellow hue of light came from the door that sat slightly ajar at the end of the hall. You saw a shadow fall over the crack in the door, so you pressed yourself against the wall and held your breath.

“I’ve got movement.” You whispered into your comm.

“I have eyes on Ivy.” Damian said. “Someone else must be here.”

“S/N, do not engage. We don’t know who or what that is. Fallback.”

“Okay. On my way to your location now.” Curiosity got the better of you and your actions contradicted your words. Bummer for Batman ig. You slowly pushed the door open and looked around. The abandoned greenhouse had been turned into a make-shift bedroom. Beautiful fully bloomed Bougainvillea spiraled down the pointed ceiling and sporadically grew against the green glass. Leaves littered the floor and petals fell as the door shook some of the vines. Honey yellow lanterns hung on the walls giving a golden warmth to the room, and a small bed was to your left, tucked away.

“Woah…” Your hands unconsciously dropped from their defensive form.

Letting your guard down, what a rookie mistake. Hard vines wrapped around your body and pulled you off the ground. You let out a yelp as your legs were pulled above your head and suspended you above the ground. The vines tied your arms against your sides and held your legs together, completely eliminating movement. You groaned as the blood rushed to your face.

‘Damn Batman would kick my ass if he found out that I disobeyed a direct order, AND got my ass kicked by some foliage while doing so. i kinda deserve this tbh.’ You thought.

Out of the shadows, stepped a young girl. She was about your age, roughly 5’ 6” and was beautiful. So beautiful that even the most thorough words on a page would be far too simple to describe the way she lit up a room. She had dark fuchsia hair that cascaded down her shoulders and fell to the middle of her back. Her green eyes and pale complexion matched that of her mother.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Her hands were shaking, as if they didn’t hold immense power. Still, she was scared of you. She wasn’t used to this by any means. She avoided conflict and violence as much as possible. Her mother hid her away, not that she wanted to leave. She was Rapunzel and wanted to stay Rapunzel. Though, her mother never lied to her about the horrors outside. Call it what you will, Stockholm syndrome, fear, truth, at the end of the day Azalea Isley didn’t like people.

But eh. Who cares? You had a smart mouth and beautiful women oftentimes made you run it as much as possible. You took a breath and began speaking calmly as to not startle her.

“My name is S/N. I am a hero. What’s your name?”

“You lie.” She spat. ‘oh’

“S/N is not a real name. Tell me the truth.” The vines tightened around you. You gasped out.

“I can’t tell you my name! Don’t your parents give you rules you can’t break? This is one of mine.” She contemplated your words.

“As you decide if I’m lying or not, could you loosen these? I'm dyin’ here.” She swallowed and reluctantly loosened the vines, but kept you hanging.

“I am Azalea.”

“Like the flower?” She gave you a pointed look. “Right. Sorry, dumb question.” Her face relaxed into a small smile.

“Momma says there’s no such thing as a dumb question. Only dumb people.”

“Ivy? Yeah, that’s fair. Will you let me down?”

“No.” She came closer to you and began feeling your face and hair.

“That’s fine.” You replied, your voice coming to a whisper.

“I have not met a person like you before, S/N. You’re very warm, and your face is turning pink.”

“That’s normal, don't worry.” Your eyes met hers with a stupid grin.

~

Since then, you have met in secret every couple of days, both of your parents staying somewhat oblivious to your secret romance. Today was the day you decided your ruse needed to come to light.

Ow.

Your teeth bit through the skin on your lip. The anxiety of the entire evening was eating you alive. Your knee bounced under the table your family sat around in silence and anticipation.

“So, Y/N.” Bruce began. “Any specific reason you wanted this family meeting?”

Your eyes shot up to meet your adoptive father. You took a breath and decided it was best to be as blunt as possible.

“I have a girlfriend.” You crossed your arms. Your brothers held onto the silence for another beat.

“Oh it’s about time.” Jason said. “We’ve been waiting for you to come clean for like a year.” Your chest released the tension it held, and your face lost its color.

“What?! You knew?” Your eyes widened. How much did they know?

“Yeah, we kind of figured, N/N.” Tim said. You quirked an eyebrow. He shrugged. “Sneaking out without notice is hard to do in a family like ours. But we also figured you’d tell us when you were ready.” You nodded. They still don’t know though. Or they’re just being really cool. Nah, the batfam? No way.

“I invited her over for dinner tonight. I want you guys to meet her.” You fiddled with a leather bracelet. “I want you to have an open mind when you meet her.”

“Of course we will.” Dick said, putting a comforting hand over yours. You averted your gaze from the group as he held your hand.

“She means a lot to me.” cliché

-

A few hours later, you were getting dressed. Zales didn’t have a phone, but you knew she was coming. You buttoned up your shirt and ran a hand over your face. Please go well. In all honesty, you knew it probably wouldn’t go well. But hey! What’s life without risk, eh?

The table was set and you made your way towards the foyer to meet Azalea.

She rang the doorbell, and diligent as ever, Alfred opened the door with a knowing smile to welcome her in.

“Hello Miss Azalea, and Welcome to Wayne Manor. We have been expecting you-“

“Zales!!” You ran around Alfred, enveloping your girlfriend in a hug. She laughed, and hugged you back.

She pulled away, but continued to hold your hand. She can feel your anxiety flowing off of you in waves. She turned back towards Alfred.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Pennyworth. I am sorry sweet Y/N here seems to get a bit too ahead of themselves sometimes.”

Alfred nodded, softly smiled and guided the two of you to the dining room. Azalea looked around at the grand manor. The wooden paneling that neatly lined up with the pristine carpet that was cleaned especially well in order to welcome a new guest courtesy of Alfred. <3 Talk about marrying into the right family.

“Allow me to fetch the others.” Alfred said before politely exiting.

She grabbed your hand.

“Regardless of what happens my love, it is all going to be okay.” You nodded.

As you reassured each other, a crash was heard from the other room. You cringed and the voices of your brother’s bickering rang out.

“Shut up replacement, outta my way before you get smacked the fuck up.” Jason began.

“You irk me.” Tim crossed his arms in a pout.

“Both of you, be quiet.” Bruce said, crossing the hallway to enter the room. As the five men looked up, you and Azalea stood. You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hi.” Azalea said, riddled with nerves.

“Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian,” You began, pointing each one out to her, “this is Azalea,”

“Isley, right?” Bruce said. His gaze hardened and his jaw clenched. The renowned Batman Glare™ didn’t make Azalea back down. She knew what she was getting herself into. So instead, she stood tall.

“Yes, Isley. My mother is Poison Ivy.” After another glaring standoff, Jason suddenly broke the silence with boisterous laughter.

“YES! This is so golden.” He reached a hand out to Zales. “Jason Todd, pleasure to meet you. I am the household headache.” Tension slightly died down in Azalea’s shoulders, she laughed and took his hand.

You loved Jason. He was an arrogant, loud, shoot-first-think-later person, but he was the most loyal person you knew. He always had your back, besides he’s seen his share of kids in bad environments. Hell he’s been there. He has no room to judge and never would.

Bruce continued to stand stoically. Dick smiled, and walked over.

“Hey! I am Dick Grayson, and don’t take whatever Bruce and Damian say personally, they’re always like that.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Welcome!”

Dick was very motherly. He had his fair share of misfit kids in the teen titans, and Artemis stands to this day as one of his best friends. He has faith in people, and in you. Dick gave you a comforting pat on your shoulder.

“Three to go! Good luck, kid.” He walked past the two of you and sat down at the table next to Jason.

“Alright! Who’s next?” You clapped your hands together.

Tim looked around at the two most stubborn men in his family, or in the world, and then decided he should go next.

“Hey, I’m Tim.”

Tim’s reaction worried you to say the least. The uncertainty of how he would react made your stomach churn. At least you knew Bruce and Damian would be difficult. Tim, however, is usually open-minded. He is also protective. But above all else Tim wanted your happiness, besides, you’ve kicked his ass enough times for him to know not to worry about your safety. If you need help, you know where to go.

He took her hand and shook it. “You don’t need to worry about me. As long as you treat Y/N the way they deserve to be treated, then I'm no problem at all!”

Damian didn’t step forward when his time came.

“I don’t like criminals.”

“I am not a criminal.”

“By association, you are.”

“Oh shut up, Damian.” You snapped, coming to her defense. His eyes flew to meet yours, but he made no move in either direction. “Your mother is one of the most notorious assassins to ever exist, and your grandfather ran a league of them.” You crossed your arms. “You have no room to judge her about association.”

Damian huffed out of his nose and moved past the two of you with a resounding “Tch.”

Your eyes lit up and you spun around to your girlfriend.

“That was good for Damian!” You smiled excitedly. Damian might be a little rough around the edges, but he didn’t fight you. He is just looking out for you, and if you trust her, well, he still wouldn’t trust her, but he wouldn’t treat her as poorly as before. “Now! One more, the final boss.”

“Y/N.” He said.

“Bruce.”

“How long has she known our identities?”

“Like a year, and I only told her mine. She figured the rest on her own.” Eh. Mostly true.

He raised an eyebrow towards her.

“Hello.”

“Hi!!” She smiled.

“I don’t like your mother.”

“My mother doesn’t like you either, so it’s a good thing this doesn’t have anything to do with either of you.” She motioned between you.

Bruce hummed and moved forward. The three of you joined the boys at the table where dinner was served by the one, the only, the amazing, Alfred.

Dinner was awkward at the beginning, but whenever the conversation got moving it was easy. Your brothers liked her, it was Bruce who continued to be standoffish. However, he slowly, painfully slowly, warmed up to her throughout the night. Though it wasn't obvious to the naked eye, as Bruce’s kid, you saw his eyes soften every time you brought up a happy memory with her. She was making you happy, he knew that.

Dinner came to a close and the family was saying their goodbyes to Azalea. You stood by the door and hugged her.

“I’m so glad this went well.” You said, wrapping your arms around her. She kissed your cheek.

“Even if they didn’t like me, there wouldn’t be anyone’s opinion that could keep me from you.” You pulled apart, just as Bruce was coming down the stairs.

“Azalea. May I have a word in private before you leave?”

“Bruce I do-“

“It is okay my love. Yes sir.” Azalea motioned to the room over.

You sat on the stairs and tapped your foot, anxiously and impatiently. DAMMIT! So close to this going well. If he screws it up that would be major suckage.

When they returned, both had content smiles on their faces.

Azalea hugged you again.

“I will see you soon my love.” She then turned to Bruce. “Thank you for a wonderful evening, sir. It was a pleasure to meet your family.”

Bruce held up a hand.

“No need to thank me, the pleasure was all mine. Goodbye Azalea.”

She kissed your cheek.

“I love you.”

“Wh- I love you too- but what did you talk about?!”

Azalea laughed and cupped your face.

“Nothing much. Goodbye” She winked and walked out the door, a car pulling up outside.

“Bye I guess…” You held the door open for her, making sure she made it to her ride.

You turned to Bruce with an eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. “What? It’s my kid’s first relationship, I am not going to ignore that just because of their parents. Absolutely not.”

“Bruuuceeee, what did you say to her?” You groaned.

“I don’t remember.”

“Liar.”

He smiled and put a hand on your shoulder.

“Does she make you happy, Y/N?”

“Extremely.”

“Then I approve.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~ ❀~

A/N: tbh this was so fun to write. i ADORE botany (duh my username) and you gave me the perfect chance to use it in a fic! Great req btw i love the whole romeo-and-juliet-esc vibe of their relationship. Y/N and Azalea>>> fr flower power. thanks for the req! If you have anything else let me know!! <3 I’ve been out of town, but now that i’m back my writing can start back up! cant wait for more. Also mha fans should keep an eye out later this week!!

Oh my god, this was so good so beautiful written. And the last sentence? Pure poetry, the way you can feel his feelings through the whole story, how desperately he wants reader to be happy but preferably happy with him

Pinstripes (1)

[Jason Todd x Reader]

Word Count: 2906

Summary: You take the leap and decide to introduce Jason to your new boyfriend.

A/N: No one has ever been more normal than Jason Todd. He's fine. He's totally fine. Stop looking at him.

Your apartment was still a chaotic whirlwind when Jason arrived, several dresses draped over the back of the couch, your usual purse contents emptied out on the coffee table next to an assortment of tiny, fashionable clutches. You barely took the time to open the door before fleeing back to your bedroom, your chosen dress for the evening technically on but still unzipped. 

“Hello to you too,” Jason called, trailing after you with much slower steps. 

“Hi, hello, how are ya?” you mumbled, shoving various makeup products back into a small floral bag. 

“I’m fine. You don’t seem to be, though. Wanna talk about it?” He dropped down on the edge of your bed, unbuttoning his suit jacket in the process. 

That seemed to catch your attention, and you spun quickly to face him.

“Yes. Tonight’s a big deal. You know that, right?”

Jason raised a brow.

“It’s just another Wayne Foundation gala. You’ve been to dozens of them. You’ve planned dozens of them. It’s your job, and you’re damn good at it.”

Despite the kind words, your lips fell into a frown.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He did know it, unfortunately. Because what you actually meant is that you were introducing your fancy new boyfriend to Jason tonight. Your New York new money, Gotham transplant, up and comer in the Gotham DA’s office with irritatingly private social media accounts boyfriend. 

“What are you so worried about? Help me understand,” he said patiently, trying to ignore the twist in his stomach that felt suspiciously like dread. It had no right to be dread. Jason wasn’t scared of shit. Certainly not a 30-year-old man with an overly-gelled comb over. 

“I haven’t ever introduced anyone to you before,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I feel… weird about it.” 

“This was your idea. If you’ve changed your mind, I’ll just drop you off and go home. You can tell him I’m sick or something.” 

Because honestly, Jason wasn’t looking forward to this either. You were right. You’d never introduced anyone to him in the almost ten years you’d been friends. You’d dated here and there, but never anything serious enough that you bothered with… all this. And Jason didn’t love the fact that you were bothering with it now.

“No, no. I need to stop putting it off. It’s important,” you said, sitting beside him. “I’m just… nervous.”

“I can see that,” he whispered, gesturing around at the disaster zone that was your room and earning an elbow to the ribs in the process.

“Just be nice,” you pleaded, moving to stand in front of him, hands coming to rest on his shoulders. 

“I will.”

“Jason.”

“I will!” he repeated with a laugh.

You still didn’t look convinced, eyes slightly narrowed and a cute little pout on your lips. 

“I’m serious. Please. I know how you can get.”

“Okay, what does that mean?” 

“You can be a little… quick to judge.” You hurried to continue when you recognized the flash of hurt in his eyes. “Not me! And not even most people. But like… when you see someone doing something you don’t approve of, you kind of…. Have a hard time letting that go sometimes.” 

“Because you let it go too quickly,” Jason said, brief memories of your past relationships passing through his head like a very convincing powerpoint. “I balance you out.” 

There was the one who stood you up and didn’t call you until the next day to apologize, rattling off excuses that all could have been easily communicated while they were happening. Jason had refused to call him anything other than Ghost Boy for the remainder of your relationship.

Then there was the one who documented his every movement on social media to an alarming degree, always taking pictures when the two of you were together and posting them with cringey, coy captions that had made Jason roll his eyes so hard they hurt a little bit afterwards. He’d named him The Tourist.

And there was no forgetting Small Dick Energy 1, 2, 3, and 4 who had all had huge issues with your best friend being a man in general, and Jason Todd of the Wayne family specifically. You hadn’t seemed aware of the actual problem, just the symptoms: showing off, being obnoxiously vocal about your relationship when you preferred privacy, a dozen different instances of insecurity, becoming possessive and clingy especially when you wanted to make plans with your best friend. It had been very clear to Jason that he was the problem. And he found he didn’t particularly mind it. You deserved better anyway.

“Meet me in the middle,” you requested, squeezing his shoulders to regain his attention. “And I’ll try to meet you in the middle too.” 

“I can try…” Jason said slowly, smiling despite himself when you patted his cheek in approval.

“That’s all I ask. Zip?” 

You turned, standing perfectly still while Jason zipped up your dress, taking the extra time to fasten the tiny hook and eye clasp at the top for good measure. 

“All set.” 

“You’re the best,” you said easily as you moved back toward your vanity, sorting through your various tubes of lipstick.

“I know. It’s a curse.” 

You snorted but didn’t argue, turning once again to present him with four different shades of lipstick. 

“Which one?”

“What color are your shoes?”

“Black.” 

Jason tapped the deep burgundy.

“Ooo. Going bold tonight,” you commented, tossing the others back in your makeup bag.

“You don’t have to,” Jason said with a shrug, but you were already leaning into the mirror, carefully smoothing the rich color over your lips.

“No, I like it.” 

Things moved more quickly after that. You made Jason pick out your purse while you put on your shoes, and he chased you to the front door with a bottle of perfume Bruce had bought you last Christmas.

The ride was quiet. Jason had opted for the Wayne’s favorite car service tonight, since you were attending a public event. It always made you a little uncomfortable, carrying on a conversation as if there wasn’t a third person in the car. You texted each other instead. 

Jason didn’t protest when you directed the driver to the service entrance of tonight’s ritzy hotel venue. Even though you were technically a guest tonight, you’d earned enough favor with the staff of every fine event venue in the city to get special treatment. Including a way in that avoided the paparazzi stationed out front. 

“Can’t believe you sprayed me with that stuff,” you groaned as you led Jason down a service hallway, plucking at your dress with dissatisfaction. It was nicer than what you usually wore when working these events, but not by much. Still unadventurous in color and cut, designed to help you blend in. 

Jason caught your hand, gave it a comforting squeeze before releasing it.

“Do you not like it?” he asked, eyes wide with artificial innocence that made you scoff. 

“I smell like an old rich lady,” you complained. 

“Gonna break Bruce’s heart, talking like that. I’m pretty sure he actually picked that out himself.”

“Well we’re not going to tell him, are we?” 

He caught your hand again, intercepting it before you could fuss with your hair. 

“Will you stop? You look amazing. There’s nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, pausing before the door that would let you into the hotel ballroom and brushing your hands over your dress again.

“Easy for you to say.” 

Jason frowned.

“Hey,” he said softly, guiding your chin up until you were meeting his gaze. “Tell me how to make this easier for you.”

That alone seemed to do something, tension beginning to ease from your shoulders.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “Just…”

“Be nice. I know.” He offered you his arm with an encouraging smile. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ll be so nice he’ll fall in love with me, and you’ll regret ever introducing us.”

“Well, I believe the second part of that statement,” you laughed as he led you through the door and into the ballroom. By the look of things, about half of the invitees had arrived, small groups of business magnates, socialites, and philanthropists forming along the edges of the room to network and gossip and generally be seen together. 

“Rude,” Jason said drily, smiling when you pinched his bicep in retaliation. “Alright, where is this guy?”

“Umm…” You stretched up to your tallest, peering around at the near-identical suits around the room. “Right over there!”

He followed the direction of your gaze to 

“Is he wearing pinstripes?” 

“Jason.”

“I’m not being mean! I’m asking a question.” 

“Fine. Yes, he’s wearing pinstripes,” you said, flashing a bright smile as the man in question met your eyes and started making his way towards you.

“To a charity gala?” 

“I told you he was coming straight from work.”

“You did. Except the lines of that suit are too sharp for him to have been wearing it all day. Which means he changed into a pinstripe suit. For a charity gala.”

“Stop using your weird observation powers to be a bitch.” 

“You love when I - ”

“Well not right now I don’t. Cut it out.”

“Does he think he’s on Wall Street? Or a Law and Order rerun?”

“Jason.” A fierce whisper, accompanied by a sharp elbow to the ribs announced the arrival of your boyfriend, and Jason let out a sigh of defeat. 

“There you are!” 

The voice was, irritatingly, pleasant. A voice fit for radio. Or campaign videos. 

His greeting was smooth, polite, moving you from Jason’s arm to his own with subtlety and a kiss to your cheek. 

“You smell nice. New perfume?”

Jason bit down hard on his lip to contain a laugh, flashing innocent eyes at you as you glared at him over your boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Did you send my staff into a panic by turning up early?” you asked.

“Early is on time,” he replied, with the intonation of a phrase often repeated. “On time is late.” 

“I don’t think that rule applies to parties,” you laughed. 

“Definitely doesn’t apply to Wayne parties, anyway,” Jason added, snagging a champagne flute from a passing waiter and handing it to you. 

“Oh, thank you! I suppose now’s the time for introductions...”

“You must be Jason,” the other man said, holding out his hand. “Sorry, is it Todd or Wayne? I’ve seen it both ways in the paper.”

“Todd,” he said firmly, reaching to accept the offered handshake with a bit more strength than was strictly necessary. “Unless I need a last minute dinner reservation. Or I want to meet a famous person.” 

He knew how to play this game. Kind of. He’d seen Bruce and Dick play it often enough, anyway.

“Good for you,” the other man said with a polite laugh. “Making use of your connections. I’m William Woodley.”

“Middle name?”

William tilted his head curiously, but appeared unfazed.

“Samuel.”

Jason clicked his tongue in disappointment.

“Was hoping for another W.”

Take that, asshole. 

William gave another news anchor-esque laugh.

You looked faintly confused. 

“Well, I’ve heard a lot about you. Good to finally meet you in person.”

“You’ve got the advantage then. I only started hearing about you last week.”

Your sharp gaze bit into the side of his face, and he was sure if there was a subtle way to do it, you would have stomped on his foot for good measure. And he deserved it. That was too clumsy of an insult to land properly. 

“I can’t blame her,” William said, turning his full attention on you until your eyes softened again. “I’ve wanted to keep her all to myself too.”

Gag. Damn, he was good at this. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Jason asked, though you’d already told him the story. Twice.

“We - Oh, pardon me. Is that the mayor? Darling, we should go introduce ourselves,” William turned to you, eyes bright with excitement. 

“I’ve met him,” you said patiently. “Several times. And last week, I’m pretty sure his wife called me the help, so I think you stand a better chance at a good impression if you go without me.”

His eyes scanned over you quickly, assessing, smile beginning to slip.

“Oh. I don’t… I don’t have to go. We could find a different group to join.”

“It’s alright! Go ahead.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ll be fine! I still have Jason.”

It was Jason’s turn to be assessed, though more cautiously. 

William gave a noncommittal hum, dropping another kiss to your cheek and whispering something Jason couldn’t hear before heading off towards the growing crowd of sycophants surrounding Gotham’s mayor. 

“Well, that was quick.” 

“Why are you being weird?” you asked, an overly-polite smile on your face as you watched William make his way across the ballroom. 

“I’m not being weird.” 

You gave him a flat look. 

“I’ve never met one of your boyfriends before! I don’t know how I’m supposed to act.”

“Like a human person, preferably,” you muttered, taking a long sip of champagne. “Like yourself, would be nice.” 

Jason’s sigh was drowned out by an enthusiastic voice calling out your name. 

“Seriously?” he complained quietly. 

Dick Grayson bounced up on sunshine and smiles (and expensive booze), snatching up your hand and guiding you into a graceful twirl before you could even say hello.

“Good to see you! You look lovely.” He dropped a gallant kiss to the back of your hand. “What did it cost you to get Jason in the building tonight?”

“I asked nicely,” you said, with a fond smile. “It’s good to see you too.”

“Funny, I always ask nicely for things - ”

“You do not,” Jason cut off, rolling his eyes. 

“Never works for me!”

“Well, she’s prettier than you.”

“Rude,” Dick said before turning to wink at you. “But fair. Was that William Woodley from the DA’s office you were just talking to?”

You blinked in surprise. 

“Uh, yes. He - ”

“He’s her boyfriend.”

Something in Dick’s brain seemed to glitch, and his eyelid twitched.

“Interesting! When did that happen?”

“What do you mean interesting?” you asked suspiciously. 

Dick hummed, rolling back his exuberant public persona as he searched for the right answer.

“Is he not a little… serious? For you?” 

“Have you met my best friend?” 

“Jason’s Jason. It’s different,” he said, waving you off.

“What does that mean?” Jason asked, feeling like he should probably be offended. This night was already giving him a headache.

“William’s sweet,” you defended. “And it’s kind of nice to be with someone more serious. He knows what he wants.” 

“Sure…” Dick slipped the champagne flute out of your hand, handing it to Jason. “Think you need that more than she does. You look like you tried to eat a snail. Again. I’m gonna go charm more rich people out of their money. Have fun!”

He turned away after a hard clap on the shoulder, taking only a second to identify his next target before he was off again, shouting out someone else’s name with his arms wide open.

Jason drained the rest of your glass, trading it for a fresh one which he handed to you. 

You took it without looking, your eyes once again fixed on William through the crowd and your perfectly-painted lips tugged into a slight frown. 

That was Jason’s fault, at least partially. And he knew it. 

He took a deep breath.

“You should go ask him to dance,” Jason said, plastering on his most convincing  smile when you glanced at him curiously.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a guest, they just started playing a new song, and you’re supposed to be having fun.” 

You tapped the edge of your champagne flute absently.

“Yeah… but he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities like this. And he doesn’t really like to dance, I don’t think.” 

Jason took your glass back, giving you a little nudge.

“He will if he knows it will make you happy.”

“You’re being sweet,” you said, tone nearly accusatory as you look over your shoulder at him.

“How dare you. Would you get outta here?” 

Your eyes narrowed a little, but you smiled anyway.

And Jason watched you make your way through the assorted guests, watched you come up beside William, your hand gentle on his shoulder. Watched the way his eyes lit up, the bright beaming smile he aimed at you. Tried, really really hard, to think you two looked like a good match. Tried to be happy for you. 

But your own soft smile faded after a few exchanged words, turned into something plastic and polite that clashed with the disappointment he could see in your eyes even from across the room. 

Something tightened in Jason’s chest, and he let out a slow breath. He didn’t know how to do this. He didn’t know how to fix this, how to make you happy. Not anymore.

What he wanted to do was shove everyone out of the way until he could stand right next to you. He wanted to steal you away into an alcove, make rude jokes about the elitist guests until you laughed, until champagne threatened to come out of your nose. He wanted to dance with you. Because he knew it would make you happy. Because your boyfriend wasn’t. 

Because Jason Todd had been your best friend for ten years. And he’d been in love with you for eight. 

*****

A/N: Help, I'm gonna LOSE IT! What do we think, besties? Is this anything? Come chat!

angel of small death | jason todd

Summary: You can't remember what it was like to be human. Until Jason returns. Now, he's the only thing tethering you to this world. And you won't let anything happen to him.

Pairing: Jason Todd x shadow monster!gn!reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings/tags: monster!reader, canon-typical violence, codependency, reader attacks Batman, reader accidentally hurts Jason, stalking, suicidal thoughts, crying, hurt/comfort, somewhat happy ending.

A/N: I wrote this in a day so if there are any grammar mistakes please feel free to lmk!

the divider

You feel it when Jason returns. 

No one else seems to. The Bat (his… family?) doesn’t sense anything is different, but you do. 

And just as quickly as you feel him, he’s lost. His grave is empty. You scour Gotham for him, his body, anything. But he’s gone. Stolen. 

If you were more powerful, free from this wretched body, you would find him. Hunt down whoever took him, then bring him back to Gotham, so he might rest. 

For a short day, your limbs had felt like flesh. The void that is your mouth had smiled. You were human again. 

Jason is lost. You scream in mourning. 

He’s back. 

You’re awake.

“Go through the side!”

Hood’s men scramble to obey, armed and ready. They’ve planned this ambush for three and a half weeks. Black Mask made himself scarce after Hood made it clear he wouldn’t leave him alone. You watched in pride and worry as Jason threw himself into his revenge. 

He’s stronger than in your memory. He’s big, bigger than most opponents. Bigger than the Bat. He’s good with a weapon. Good in combat. Scarred all over. Brutal. 

But he’s angry and hurt, and he’s human. He may have the Pit inside of him, but he is no monster. You would know.

The Bat is hunting him. You will tear him apart, if necessary. You will tear apart anyone who hurts Jason. 

You slip through the shadows, letting your limbs stretch as long as they can. They make awful shrieking noises when you stretch too far, and it makes the men below nervous. 

One of Jason’s men looks right at you. You look back. He gasps and runs back to the van.

These men are loyal but they’re nowhere near strong enough to protect Jason. You’d prefer to eat them all, but Jason seems to trust them. So you gut a lackey in a clown mask and silently remain on the highest balcony across the street from Black Mask’s lair.

Once, you permitted yourself to watch Jason in his apartment, in his bed, while he slept. He cried through a nightmare. You tried to chase the nightmare away, but you’d only made it worse. He awakened, sweating and gasping, and screamed as soon as he saw you.

You haven’t revealed yourself since. 

You are lonely. You want to die. You’ve wanted to die for a long time. 

But you won’t. Not before you see Jason home safe.

Automatic gunfire echoes from the lair. You rush to the unlit side of the building. You peer in through the window. 

It’s mostly Black Mask’s men on the floor, bleeding. You slip inside to eat the death. 

“The fuck is that?!”

You look up just as three bullets pass through you. You scowl at the offending gunman, who drops his gun and runs. Rude. 

You wouldn’t normally enter like this, make your presence so obvious. If someone were looking for you, they could easily track you after tonight.

But nothing matters except Jason. 

There’s shouting outside. You soar to the ceiling and through the skylight. 

“Shit, shit, fuck! Boss! Boss, you alright?”

“Shut the fuck up, Garett,” Jason says, helmeted head lolling against the brick. Three of his men crowd him.

You speed to the shadow, carefully avoiding the light casted by the overhead streetlight. You’ve stepped in one before and the fluorescent lights sting.

Jason is bleeding from his gut, where his armor separates to allow movement. 

You creep closer. If you still had a heart, it would beat fast. You remember how it felt. You don’t feel fear often these days, but now you know for sure that it was never gone.

You scream.

The streetlight shatters. Jason and his men cover their ears, shouting in pain. His men start to bleed from their ears. It doesn’t take much for you to strike them down, knock them into a fitful slumber.

“Who’s there?”

Jason immediately pulls out his gun, despite his injury. You try to stay on his side, so he won’t have to see your yellow, bottomless eyes. You’d close your eyes if you weren’t so afraid of hurting Jason further.

“I ain’t scared of you!” he says, and you’d be inclined to believe him if your teeth weren’t peeking out at the scent of his fear.

You swallow and focus on his injury. You stretch your fingers to two thin points. Then you reach into his stomach and pull out the bullet.

Jason yells in pain and fires. You ignore it and keep going. 

“Sssssss-sssor–ry,” you rasp.

Jason turns his head and looks right at you. He panics, trying to squirm away. You quickly hold him down so your fingers won’t rip through his intestine.

“Let go a’me! Let go!” 

He fires until the cartridge is empty. You are crying. 

“Sss-sssor-sssorry.” Then you sear Jason’s wound closed. 

That’s when he passes out, the pain overwhelming him. Black tears run down your face and join the dark. 

As soon as the wound is cauterized, you slink to the darkest corner of the city, inside an abandoned warehouse. 

You let yourself grow into your full form, showing your claws and exposed tendons and the hole in your chest.

Then you cry, cry, cry. The windows explode, the bricks become dust, and still, you cry into the rubble. You cry until morning.

You can’t stop.

You should. You’re fearsome and ugly and Jason is already entrenched in grief. You’ll only make him worse.

But after the ambush, you can’t rest. You have tried to return to the dirt, to where you had lain for so long. You swim to the bottom of the ocean and try to sleep with the creatures there. That doesn’t work either. 

So you follow Jason instead. You follow him every night on patrol. You snipe anyone who gets too close, intending to harm. Jason returns home with a full magazine, most nights. You know he should take care of his adversaries on his own to keep in practice, but you throw up iridescent black oil when you try to let go and not protect him. 

“I know you’re there.”

You’re crouched on an apartment’s fire escape two stories above. Jason has stopped. He’s been frozen for several minutes. 

You look around, trying to find who Jason sees. But the alley is empty. 

“I know…” Jason takes a shaky breath. “I know you’re there. I feel ya watchin’ me.”

Then he takes off his helmet and tosses it aside. He takes off his holsters and removes his knives and tasers and drops those next to his helmet.

You crawl on all fours down the apartment building, claws scraping the brick. You can smell his fear from here. 

You rattle a loose screw at the end of your climb. Jason turns in your direction. He gasps, eyes wide. 

You freeze. Neither of you move for a long minute.

“You’ve been followin’ me,” he says. 

You nod. You’re not sure if he can see you in the dark.

“Who—what are you?”

You crawl closer. Jason wants to move away, you can tell, but he doesn’t.

On your hands, you come up to his head. You wish you could make yourself smaller.

Jason swallows hard, chest rising and falling quickly.

You’re not good at speaking. You used to be. Used to have all the words. Now they’re gone. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

“I feel… shit, I feel like I know ya,” he says. “You know me?”

“Rrrrrrrob–rrobiiii—robiiiiin.”

He inhales sharply. “Yeah. You knew me then?”

You reach for him. Careful. So careful. You use the blunt side of your claw to touch Jason’s scarred cheek. He’s so warm. So full of light. 

He steps back. Your hand falls. 

You start to cry. You can’t help it. 

Your claws dig into the pavement, tearing through asphalt. 

“Waaaan–wantttttt. Tttt. Jaaaayy. WAN—TTTT. WA—JAY. WANNN—”

You try to speak softly, but it comes out like a shriek. Jason grunts in pain, covering his ears. Red seeps through his fingers. 

You stumble backwards at the sight. You must go. You must try again and see if the ocean will take you.

“Wait! Wait, wait!”

Jason runs around, holding up his hands in front of you. You stop, black tears pooling into a puddle at his feet.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. I know you.”

You want to speak but you’ll hurt him if you do. So you cry in silence. Jason waits.

“‘S okay,” he says again. “You didn’t do it on purpose. Shh, shh. Don’t cry.”

His fear is lessened. Not gone, but not grown. 

“Hey,” he says softly. “Hey, honey.”

The tears keep falling. Jason keeps waiting. 

“‘Course I remember ya,” he says, and pets you where your cheek should be. “How could I forget you?”

You moan quietly. It doesn’t hurt Jason this time.

The night that the Bat finds Jason brings a thunderstorm with it.

You’ve followed Jason for weeks now. He’s no longer afraid when he catches glimpses of your endless mouth and shapeless eyes. Sometimes, on patrol, you get nervous. When you’re too close to people, to noise, you get restless. You want to run, but you can’t, because Jason will be alone. And so will you. 

Jason has begun to hum when you get nervous. You get closer when he does, looming over him, but he no longer smells like fear.

“Y’smell like peaches, y’know that?” he’d said a few weeks ago. 

You’d just pitched your head lower to show you were listening. 

“Yeah,” Jason had said. “Like peach pie. I was so confused the night you removed the bullet. Craved peach pie for days. Ain’t that the weirdest shit you’ve ever heard?”

Honestly, yes. After everything, that is definitely the weird part.

“Gooo—g-g…” You’d swallowed, frustrated. Jason had hummed.

“‘S okay,” he’d said. “‘M listening. Take your time.”

So you’d tried again. “G-good?” 

“Yeah, honey. Oh, yeah. So good. You’re so good.”

That hadn’t been what you meant. But you’d gotten the feeling Jason knew what you were asking and decided to answer another question anyway.

It’s pouring tonight. The rain doesn’t bother you, but if lightning starts, you may have to retire for tonight. 

That’s only in an extreme circumstance, however. For now, you’re right there with Jason. 

“Shit, ‘s really comin’ down, huh!” Jason shouts over the rain. 

He swings to a rooftop and almost slips on water. You rush to him, but he holds up a hand, laughing.

“‘M fine, ‘m fine. I gotta finish the southside. You can dip if you want.”

You don’t respond. Jason sighs.

“Alright, fine. C’mon.”

You’re two blocks into the southside when a dark blob lands in front of Jason. You stay hidden, eyes sharp. 

The blob is a man. The Bat. 

“Jason,” Batman says. Jason stiffens.

You feel a screech working its way out, but you stop it for Jason’s sake. You will intervene if he needs help.

Both of their fear levels have shot up. 

The Bat steps forward. “You lied to me, Jason. I can’t believe it’s you going around Gotham killing—”

“Oh, you can’t?” Jason spits. “You can’t believe your little bird that’s back from the dead is angry that no one fuckin’ cleaned up this city? The clown is still alive, Bruce!”

Thunder cracks the sky. You stay silent, keeping your grip on the side of the building light. You’d offered to kill the Joker for Jason. Ki–lllll clo–own? K–ill?

But Jason had told you no. Had said that it wasn’t your responsibility. So you’d refrained. 

The Bat is quiet for a moment. Then, “I’m sorry, Jason. I know you’re upset, but—”

“Fuck you. I don’t wanna hear your attempts at peacemaking. I’m not gonna stop no matter what you say.”

“Jason,” the Bat says. “You have to stop killing.”

“The only way I’m gonna stop is if you kill me.”

You scramble down as soon as you hear armor clash. A batarang strikes Jason’s chestplate. Jason’s increasingly aggressive, forcing the Bat to defend himself harder. 

Thunder strikes again. Jason knows all of the Bat’s weak points. And while the Bat is distracted, it doesn’t stop him from fighting well.

The moment the Bat draws blood, you stalk out of hiding and howl.

Three streetlights explode as you grow to your full, terrifying size. Both the Bat and Jason cover their ears. You slam the Bat down on the ground, claws shredding his cape and suit. You’re furious. You will kill.

One of your claws punctures the Bat’s thigh. He shouts in pain. You’ll tear him apart for making Jason bleed.

Rain beats down on you. You heave over the Bat, shaking with fury. 

“Stop! Fuck, fuck. Stop it!”

Jason pulls at your arm, which is nearly the size of his entire body. His helmet is cracked, his exposed eye bloodshot. That rekindles your anger, but Jason quickly intercepts. 

“Stop, please. It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t kill him, please. Don’t kill.”

“Miiiiii—m—miiii-ine. Mine.”

Jason nods. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I am. I’m yours. He’s not gonna take me away from ya. He wouldn’t kill me.”

The Bat coughs, spitting blood. “N-never.”

"Mine," you say, tremulous, blood under your claws. "My Robin."

Jason shakes you. "Yours. I'm yours. C’mon, peach. C’mon, love.”

It would be so easy to end it now. End you and the Bat. And you would do it if you didn’t think it would end Jason too.

His fear is high. You pull your claw out of the Bat, who groans. You let Jason lead you away. He holds your darkness.

“Scaaaar—sc-ared. Scare-d?”

“Yeah,” Jason admits. “Little bit.”

You close your eyes. “Ba-ad.”

“No, honey. You’re not bad. You’re scared.”

You dig your claws into the roof, cracking the concrete. You let yourself shrink, so Jason can wrap his arms around your neck. You don’t trust yourself enough to touch him back. 

He’s crying. Jason is crying.

You pull back a little, so you can see his face. 

“Cr-y,” you say, feeling like weeping yourself. “Cry cr-y c-ry.”

You want to say so much more, but you can’t. Your words are gone. You know Jason doesn’t judge you for that, but you need to tell him. Tell him how you feel.

You lick Jason’s cheeks. They taste like salt and rainwater. You lick more. Lick until he stops crying.

“Son,” the Bat says behind you. 

“‘S okay, B,” Jason says. 

Rain drips down his face and suit. He’s beginning to shiver. You try to shield him as best as you can. 

“We’re okay,” Jason says, this time just to you.

“Sc-scaare—”

“No, no. Hey, peach. ‘M not scared. Y’hear me?”

You slowly drape your arms over Jason’s back. He strokes your wrist that droops and stretches unnaturally. 

“Yeah. You know me. I’ve never been afraid of the dark.”

Escape Reality | Part 0

PAIRINGS: Batfam X Reader (platonic), Jason Todd X Reader (romantic)

—Why did you choose to get a dog? And why did you choose to walk him before the beginning of a storm? Well… you can’t say you regret it.

AU/Trope: Isekai

Rating: SFW (as always)

❥ [Part 0] - [Part 1] (not yet out)

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A/Note: Heavily inspired by the amazing and incredible @daydreams-to-passages ! They wrote something I hadn’t even thought of which evolved into this fic! I really just expanded on their ideas so this is like 70% them! This is a little short but it's really just a prologue.

Oh, and lastly: if you know me IRL no you fucking don’t!

________________________________

When you got a dog… well, every dog owner knows the joys of walking their perfectly well behaved dog. It's sometimes the best thing in the world! If you were to pick up into a light jog, your puppies ears would flap up and down- his fur blowing back as a nice breeze and cool weather egg you on for more of that same old walking.

But no, when you got a dog… well let’s just say you weren’t prepared to actually own a dog. You had just moved to New York, into a shitty cramped apartment, and you were lonely and depressed and what’s a good fix for all that? Getting a dog! A larger then a corgi sized dog. Weighing in at around 50 pounds was your new pride and joy! Your new terror and the reason why you now stay up later thinking “why the hell did I get a dog when I can’t afford my own food?” You made a choice and now your life was unraveling around you because of said choice.

But… you also felt guilty. It wasn’t erm… “Fido”’s choice to live with you. So you’d buy his food before your own just to make sure you can afford his, and you’d try and take him on walks every single day. Because, that small crappy apartment is doing nothing for “Buddy”…?

So yes, walking a dog is so relaxing and fun! If you can afford to take the time or buy training classes where they teach him how to… walk on a leash.

BARK BARK BARK!!

“The pigeons are gone, dude!” You huff and tug him away from the side of the sidewalk- across you was the park, where a lovely old women was feeding birds. Keyword: was. You dog… “bear”, was so unstimulated and just badly behaved… it often left you so very embarrassed and put out. So even after “Baxter” started his walk on again- satisfied with his bird scaring talents, he still tugged forward because you were apparently too slow by his standards. So, walking “Max” was great! Amazing even. What wasn’t great was… well you had hoped you’d be home by now, you had read the weather was getting cloudier but hey- a little water never hurt anyone?

Except everyone on the titanic.

The worst part? The damn dog was loving every bit of the rain, he even sat his ass down to chop on the rain above him!! Everyday you were a little more convinced he hated you… just when things couldn’t have been worse, a stupid DUMB cat appeared! It ran right in front of you and “buster” into an alley!

Listen, you had calmed down on the leash tugging since the damn dog sat down- you didn’t expect a cat! So yes, Mr “Duke” got away from you… THE FUCKING DOG GOT AWAY FROM YOU. You gave chase after a cat and a dog… no you’ll totally win this race!

And if you couldn’t have been miserable enough, you hit a fucking brick wall…

But… hey wait, you could have sworn you dog and that cat went this way…

Your nose was bleeding, you had checked it with your hand… and now you were blacking out. Thunder struck and that was the last thing you saw…

Then you died, much like the second robin did.

Actually, he died pretty heroically and was murdered by a super villain. You ran into a wall.

You also didn't die.

"What the actual fuck." You whined as you sat up and held you head. Great, now you had a headache on top of this rain... You were in an alleyway still. Sadly, that didn't change since you passed out. But for some reason it felt... colder? The whole neighbor streets turned dark and cold you realized once you stood up walked around. Everything just looked duller, less color, it felt like an invisible fog laid across the streets. The rain picked up harder, like some God or deity was trying to wash the city away. The building had turned to cool greys and blacks with pops of graffiti in the long narrow alleys. "What the actual fuck?" You spun around to look at more of... where you supposedly lived, trying to figure out what just happened.

In the distance, you can hear erm... your dog barking. Panic swelled in your chest like an ugly bruise. Darting towards the sound you calmed down slightly when you saw your dog sat nicely staring at a man. A man who was eating a hot dog in the pouring rain...

"No can't have my chili dog," scolded a black-haired stranger as you finally see your beloved dog. Both of them were standing under something, protecting the male from the rain while your poor pouch was already a wet dog. Just when the stranger was about to cave to your dog's whims and argumentative barks you shouted out.

"Dog," You yelled out and the pup's ears perked up. still, you pup was still for once in his life and not causing... too much trouble. His attention was now on you, but he still didn't move away from the man with food.

This action- or lack of action made you sigh. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notice the complete lack of people nearby.

"Dog, what does it not got a man?" The man asked absentmindedly, like he was more talking to himself then he was to you. Thankfully you had just closed the gap between the two of you when he said it, so you didn't miss his words.

Admittedly, you didn't give your dog a name... Nothing seemed to stick out or fit. "No- His name is uh... Dog..." You tried to defend yourself against the- on second glance- attractive male.

"You named your dog... Dog?" He raised an eyebrow, and you shrunk in a little more on yourself.

"Erm... Yes?" You doubled down...

"Okay," He accepted it with a little blink, and you'll miss it eyeroll. "Does Dog know any tricks?" He asked as he finished his hotdog and knelt down to pet... Dog.

You blushed a bit because... You hadn't taught Dog any tricks yet. You had gotten him a months ago, so he was still a somewhat fresh face... "He knows sit." He knows the basics of sit; his success rate with that trick was 30%, this stranger didn't need to know that though.

The stranger hummed like he didn't believe you. He shouldn't have but you still felt offended.

Wait, this guy looked a lot like... It was the black hair with a little white streak in it really, it reminded you so strongly of the second robin even to his leather jacket.

"Are you cosplaying," came out of your mouth before you could even think about the words properly. With a hand now smacked onto your mouth you looked away from the man with a hint of humiliation at his confused expression. "I mean- You'd make a really good Jason." You corrected only to see the male give a more... curious look.

"Todd, from DC," You added, hoping to clear away his curiosity. "Jason todd..." You added more when you realized this was probably getting nowhere, and you weren't in a place mentally to describe the whole robin situation- nor would he probably care enough...

"DC? Do you mean WE?" The male corrected with a hint of a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. "He's that guy's son, right? Before he died."

You couldn't help but frown. "Well yeah- I mean he came back... Are we talking about the same thing?" You sighed, looking at you pup now. You should really just take him home- cut the walk short. Just when you thought of that however, the stranger seemed to find that perfect spot behind Dog's ear and he leaned more into the Ex-Robin look-a-likes hand,

"He came back?" The male questioned; you just shook your head. You had gotten into a DC rant one to many times to get into one now, in the middle of pouring rain. While you sighed to yourself about that, you missed his suspicious looked and the way he began to eye you...

"What's WE?" You asked instead.

That was when he looked at you as if you didn't know anything. "You don't know Wayne Enterprises?"

If y'all didn't know I'm Red hood's wife🛐

Beautiful [Credit to the owner because I forgot their user]

The Cosmic Horror of Gotham City

CHAPTER NINETEEN / MASTERLIST / Subscribe on AO3

Pairing: Jason Todd/Non-binary!Reader

Summary: Things are changing between you and it's unignorable.

Word Count: 6,849.

Jason's utter lack of mockery put you ill at ease. You glanced at him. Catching sight of his glassy eyes and shaking limbs, you quickly leaned over with a worried, “Hey.”

“Please don’t,” he rasped as he tilted back against the headrest. His tone made you stop. You dropped your hand, unsure how to proceed.

You stared at him, eyes wide and powerless.

Jason sniffled. You glanced his way again as he wiped at a stray tear. Gravity tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I can’t watch you cry and ignore it,” you admitted.

“I need you to. Please,” he begged.

“No.”

Jason choked out a laugh, congested and caught on the sharp edges of melancholy. His bloodshot eyes found yours. “I said ‘please.’”

You sloped forward, eyes steady on him. “And I told you. No.”

He made an argumentative noise. “You won’t let a man cry in peace? That’s cruel, even for you.”

You tried not to smile. “I’ll let you cry, for a price.”

His brow raised in muted defeat. “What’s that?”

You let your hand fall onto the centre console, palm facing upwards. Your fingers lay limp and parted in anticipation. Jason looked down at your hand. The muscles in his throat worked hard as he deliberated his next move.

“If I hold your hand while I’m bawling my eyes out, we’re definitely going to crash,” he said pointedly, gaze flashing upwards. “And then Roy will finish the job.”

With a flippant smile stretched across your face, you said, “Okay.”

“‘Okay?’” repeated a bewildered Jason. You shrugged and twisted towards the window, leaving your hand where it was. “Damn you,” he muttered.

But it wasn’t long after that his fingers laced with yours. He stared at you, hoping you’d turn back to see the mess you’d made of a vulnerable man.

For once, Gotham’s dismal grey skies shied away, allowing a modicum of sunlight to burst through the clouds. The warmth was all enveloping as it alleviated your worries. The radiant beams were pleasant upon your skin, gifting you with livened spirits.

You stood outside of your apartment, completing a blissful twirl as you soaked up a couple more rays. Jason watched, an amused twist to his mouth as he leaned against Roy’s truck.

Roy had kindly offered it for your use—as long as it was returned in the same or better condition. You’d rolled your eyes at that, knowing full well the only time the vehicle was ever cleaned was when it rained. “Nature’s shower,” he’d exclaimed.

“Can you drive?” came Jason’s curious question as you met him at the truck’s door. Warily eying him, you nodded. There was a shrill clack as the keys were hung in front of your nose.

“What?” you gaped, pushing his hand from your face.

“You can drive us,” he said, expectant brows raised.

You shook your head. “I haven’t—in a long time.”

He shrugged and tossed you the keys anyway. Before you could argue, he’d rounded the car and climbed in. The passenger door slammed shut. You sighed with renewed agitation. Of course he wanted to ruin your sunny mood.

Your fingers twitched as you slid into the driver’s seat. None of your prior training felt like enough preparation. Jason’s scrutiny only increased your nervousness.

“I don’t know the way,” you said, voice weak.

“I’ll direct you.”

An exasperated sigh broke loose from your throat. You slowly inched towards the ignition as you searched for a last-minute escape route. “I’m going to kill us,” you warned, glancing at him with pleading eyes.

His gaze dropped to where you gripped the steering wheel tight. “At least it’ll be on my own terms,” he shrugged, shifting so he was more comfortable. You squinted at him for the blithe comment.

Facing the road again, you inhaled and exhaled deeply. Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the exercise helped to settle your stomach. And then, to your surprise, one of his hands covered your trembling one in an attempt at comfort. You stared at it, noting that his fingers didn’t seem as swollen as they had previously been.

You looked up. Jason shot you a small smile, eyes soft with encouragement. But his hand drifted back to his own lap all too soon.

Okay, you could do this. It was only fifteen minutes or something like that, right? You didn’t want to make yourself out to be any more of a coward. Jason already had enough reasons to harass you till your wit’s end.

You listened to the low sputter of the engine as you pulled away from the kerb, sweating profusely the entire time. You managed to get onto the road without issue, although you were well under the speed limit. Jason didn’t complain. He did, however, plop his lower limbs onto the dashboard.

“Do you know what happens when we crash and your legs are up there?” you asked, eyes flashing to him briefly.

“Yep.”

“They snap like matchsticks.”

“So don’t crash,” he drawled, head tipping over his shoulder with a lazy smirk. You forced yourself not to stare. Or you really would crash.

You eventually picked up enough speed to match the other cars by the time you reached the bridge.

“You’re doing real good, sweetheart,” Jason commented, his Gotham accent heavier than usual. You swallowed thickly, not liking how your heart reacted to the praise. “I’m not even scared for my life anymore.”

“Hey!” you cried, swatting at his arm while trying not to wobble across lane lines. He gave a husky chuckle, meeting your attacks with a whack of his own. You caught his hand and pressed it against the wheel with a triumphant noise.

The turn of events intrigued him, and as such, his eyes slanted towards you. This sense of playful domesticity and comfort was entirely foreign to him. He wondered if it was the same for you.

Thumps pounded within his ribcage as his heartbeat picked up, but he didn’t dare breathe a word. He wanted a moment where he was allowed to enjoy such a tenderness—one which was unusually shared with him.

As his gaze dropped coyly, Jason decided to test the waters. He pried his fingers apart, and automatically yours wedged into the empty slots between his. His thumb began a slow graze over your skin.

Fuck, you were practically holding hands. And he kind of liked it.

He nervously glanced up and spotted the muscles working in your throat, although your eyes didn’t waver from the road. He supposed you housed a similar fretful twinge.

He leaned against the chair’s headrest as he continued to watch through careful eyes. He didn’t know how long he could leave his hand there before it truly became a thing—before it meant something he couldn’t take back. Something he might have to acknowledge properly.

“We’re almost there, right?” you murmured after a heavy silence. You spared him a look, taking in his pretty green eyes. He was doing that thing again where he tried to find an answer on your face. You didn’t have one for him though. This was new and scary but also—

“Yeah,” Jason mumbled, tugging his hand from yours. Weirdly, there was resistance from your end.

That had been a hint though, hadn’t it? Get the hell off me before someone else sees?

You didn’t seem annoyed per se, but a frown slipped onto your face at the change. He’d put it there for a reason that ungracefully slipped past his comprehension.

The Manor was as grand as ever, you noted, as you padded across the soft green grounds. Perhaps even more so in the daylight. The air was filled with the scent of freshly pruned shrubs and grass. You were grateful the sun still peeked from behind the garden statues, lighting a speckled path for you.

You looked over your shoulder as Jason lagged behind. It was like the Wayne land burned him, if his grimaced expression held any meaning. You took a few steps backwards to match pace with him. He paused when you did but he refused to meet your eyes.

“You can wait... if you want,” you told him in a low tone as you scratched at your arm.

He tensed and untensed his fingers and repeated the actions a few more times. Truly, he’d already been considering it. He couldn’t hide from the urge to scream and scream and never stop screaming that had lodged between his reanimated organs.

“Uh...” Jason breathed aloud, trying to force down the puke and metaphorical rot and worms. He’d been buried in this very dirt and clawed his way out of it with only a fraction of his mind left. He swallowed, feeling sicker as the thoughts spun and rewound again, like an old Hollywood reel.

You nodded, taking his muteness as an answer. You turned on your heel to leave him amongst the discarded clippings.

“Wait,” he panicked, stepping after you. He reached out, not really meaning to grab you, but so the distance wouldn’t get any bigger. He stopped short. He swallowed bile at the invisible barrier between you.

You held out the car keys. “Just wait in the car, Jason.”

Despair tugged at his mouth and pinched the space between his brows. “I... I can do this,” he said lamely.

“You don’t have to.”

Your lack of belief made his nostrils flare. “I can,” he snapped, breaking from the spot he’d been rooted to. He knocked past you as he stalked towards the magnificent, looming door.

You called for him. He stopped rigid, only a couple of steps from his goal. Jason looked up at the hidden camera. It was a surprise that Alfred hadn’t greeted you already, since he would have been alerted to your presence the second you breached the gates. Jason choked on more bile.

He flinched when your fingers wound around his wrist, cold but not uncaring. He looked between you and your hand neurotically.

“Last chance,” you warned him, softer this time.

He scowled at you. “I told you—”

“Okay,” you interrupted him. Your hand dropped till your fingers intertwined.

He was less pliant this time, and subsequently, his mouth opened and closed, voice lost to confusion. He looked at the ground, beyond where his skin tingled oddly against yours. He thought you hadn’t liked his touch earlier, but now—?

Jason shook the whirlwind of thoughts off and led you to the door without another word. He tugged you behind him, not needing to add embarrassment onto the pile of emotions he was going through.

Albeit unnecessary, he knocked. Seconds later, the door opened inwards to reveal Alfred proudly standing beside it.

“Ah, Master Todd,” he greeted, first looking him over. Then, his scrupulous eyes turned to you. Jason pulled you closer to hide you from view.

Alfred pasted a polite smile onto his face. “This must be...”

“Yeah, yeah, old man. Get out of the way,” Jason said, forcing his way inside, and you along with him.

“Hey,” you muttered in warning. You shot the butler an apologetic look.

“He already knows I’m a miscreant,” Jason scoffed, not rethinking his actions.

“While correct,” Alfred agreed, following them, “a proper introduction would not go awry, Jason.”

Jason said your name, “Meet Alfred. Resident pain in the ass.” He threw a look over his shoulder as he stomped down the hallway. “Happy?”

You remembered taking a similar path when you’d been here for Donna’s birthday, but it didn’t stop you from looking over the place in wonder again.

“Endlessly,” came Alfred’s monotonous reply.

A wry smile appeared at the man’s dry wit. “I see where he gets it,” you said to no one in particular, although it earned you a double brow raise. You squeezed Jason’s hand, indicating the comment was in jest.

He sighed loudly. “Is Raven in the training wing or not?”

“The old one... burned down,” Alfred reminded him, and the last part tasted strangely bitter on his tongue. “Perhaps you’ll allow me to escort you to the new wing, if you so please.”

That made Jason slow and inevitably pause. You felt the tendons in his arm stiffen, but nonetheless, he nodded.

The three of you walked in silence, diverting from Jason’s original path. He kept his feet ahead of yours.

He knew they’d arrived when he saw wide, frosted glass doors, and beyond it, gym equipment. You both stopped just short of them. “Thanks, Alfred,” Jason said quietly, unsure how else to part in the most ceremonious way possible.

Alfred nodded once, however he didn’t let the conversation end there. “Will you be staying for tea?” he queried.

You looked at Jason the same time he looked to you. You saw the slight twitch in his jaw that meant no. You wanted to say yes—if only to annoy him—but you didn’t want to actually stick around. That seemed like giving Dick too much leeway in recruiting you. Your plan was to see Raven and get out in one piece.

You let out a modest sigh and faced Alfred. “I’m sorry, we have plans already.” Jason relaxed as soon as you gave the excuse.

“Very well. Another time then,” Alfred nodded to himself. There was a beat before he continued. “I assume you’re the roommate?” he asked airily, although the question had obviously come from a place of curious concern.

Jason immediately ripped his hand from yours and crossed his arms at the forthcoming indignation. Alfred was going to verbally crucify him for fun. As if being there wasn’t already hard enough.

“Not anymore. I moved in with Roy.” You glanced at Jason, then Alfred. The corners of your mouth curved. “But he seems to have followed me anyway.”

Alfred’s head tilted and his sharp-eyed stare focused on Jason. “In that case, I do hope he’s pulling his weight?”

Jason made a low noise of protest in the back of his throat.

“Of course,” you agreed, but you couldn’t deny the lick of mischief you felt any longer. “Are you the grandfather that taught him to cook?”

“‘Grandfather?’ Why, I’m merely an old, useless butler,” Alfred mused, playing along. The smugness utterly radiated off him at the shock of an unintentional compliment.

It would seem Jason had to scratch out not being humiliated from his list of things to do that day.

The blood drained from Jason’s face, re-emerging as a tidal wave of insufferable heat, flooding his entire body. He turned around, fingers compulsively finding their way into the curls at his nape. He wanted to yank the hair from its roots; a blinding pain that would hopefully send him to another planet where this wasn’t happening.

“Well, you trained him to be a perfectly good house husband,” you tittered. Alfred’s smile widened, enough to be noticeable.

However, that was the final straw for Jason—if he had to listen to one more word, he was going to go out to his grave and unearth the site so he could return to it.

His fist balled into the back of your shirt, forcing you out of the conversation with an unexpected jerk. “Enough!” Jason lashed out. “Both of you cut it the fuck out, or we’re leaving.”

Alfred sighed wearily, eyes raking over the pair. They stayed on Jason. “Very well.”

Your face fell. As you pivoted, you tried to pry his fingers from your clothes. He met you with anger—or was it hurt?—in his eyes. You wanted to ask why, but he moved towards the door. Alfred immediately tailed.

He reached for the entry panel but Jason stopped him, fists tight by his side. “I can do it.”

“Unfortunately not, I'm afraid.”

It definitely unscabbed a wound to hear it. Upset flickered across his face. “Why? You scrubbed me from the system?”

“No, Jason,” Alfred replied, sounding just as sad. His voice lowered again when he said, conspiratorially, “Your eyes.”

Even though you didn’t understand, Jason did. He froze, hackles practically raised. He took a stiff step back, almost bumping into you as he waited for Alfred to let you both in.

They parted with only an idiosyncratic glance; an acknowledgement of the world of secrets only they were privy to.

You didn’t speak until the doors closed behind you and Alfred walked away. Then, you looked to Jason. You opened your mouth but he cut in first.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” you argued.

He rubbed at his eyebrow. Finally, scornfully, he repeated, “A ‘house husband,’ really?”

“What?” You attempted to muster your bravado. You were quick to offer, “You take care of me. And Roy.”

Jason looked at you strangely as he silently contemplated the admission. He shook his head. “Just—don’t say things like that to him, yeah? He doesn’t need new ammo.”

You barely gave a nod before your eyes averted. You scanned the gym, taking in the large room. One side was coveted in a wall of thorny rose bushes. A garden lay hidden behind them. You wouldn’t mind taking a walk through them, you thought absently.

All at once, Jason’s wired presence ensnared you once again. You swallowed, dodging his probing gaze. Despite the fact that you kept Raven waiting, you didn’t think you could pretend that his outburst hadn’t bothered you. “I don’t like when you yell,” you said, eyes stuck to a foam mat.

His own flicked to your face, roaming over the slopes gingerly. “I’m sorry,” he exhaled. “I’ll remember that.” When you didn’t reply after a few seconds, Jason touched your elbow. You’d been busy mulling his sincerity. “We good?” Jason asked, voice frail, when you finally acknowledged him with a look.

You cleared your throat. Hoarsely, you insisted, “I mean it.”

The chill of his fingers fell away. “I know,” he said, and it was still spoken at a hushed volume. Frustrated, he ground his knuckles into his cheek until redness bloomed. “It’s hard for me... to be here.”

You wrest the hand that assaulted his face, dragging it to its natural hanging position. His gaze darted across the room helplessly.

“You’re trying?” you asked. There was a pin board in your subconscious where you stuck these new details about the enigma of a man in front of you.

It took some time, but he inevitably met your gaze again. Jason’s chin dipped in a nod. You parroted the movement, expelling your worries with a breath.

As you recalled Alfred’s comment, you peered closer. His eyes narrowed in return.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” you asked suspiciously as you mirrored his expression. To you, they were awfully intoxicating, but not damaged in any way.

He snorted his dismissal. “Guess I grew out of them.”

Great, you thought. Another non-answer.

The neat path led Jason into a part of the garden that was haunted solely by grief these days. A heaviness hung in the air, thick and undulating—willing to take hostages without notice.

He felt it the moment he stepped past the threshold of bloomed pink and yellow roses. The hue of the petals trended darker here, warning of the sadness to come. He paid them only a glance, more focused on his destination. He felt welcome in the clutches of sorrow that lapped at his feet hungrily; like a fated pull that promised to lead him to an old friend.

The flower bushes gave way to a small, gothic piked area. It was stereotypically forlorn in its presentation. The sun, coincidentally, dipped behind the clouds, perhaps in fear of something so powerful.

Jason Peter Todd’s gravestone loomed beside the tall Wayne slabs. He scanned the plots, past Martha and Thomas, before he stopped at Bruce’s. Jason was glued there for a long time, but it took much less than that for his eyes to change from searingly dry to teary.

His entire walk to this graveyard had left him with the rising feeling of suffocation. It clawed its way up from the ground and into his limbs. Now it took home in his chest and throat, scratchy and uncomfortable, much like the thorns that had scuffed him on the journey in. His ribs felt like they were being crushed under the hand of a supervillain.

Except he was that villain.

Bruce was six feet because of him.

His fingers burrowed into his jumper pockets as he searched for a reprieve from the gaping well in his heart. It only swirled and expanded, purported by his overwhelmed senses.

Jason’s eyes slanted sideways. His plot had been smoothed over, no sign of him ever having crawled out. It was odd to still see it standing. But perhaps he was dead to them either way.

A hiccup escaped him. It hurt.

It was too much, too quick, he realised as he relived the moment when his skin was re-exposed to fresh air. He stared at the unruffled dirt. When he’d come up, Bruce’s stone hadn’t been there. It had just been him, the skeletons of the elder Waynes—he shivered—and the chirping of birds he thought he’d never hear again. The whole thing made him want to vomit.

Blood rushed his ears like a waterfall, ever increasing in volume. It left him with dizzying stars in his eyes and the feeling of a thousand concussions hitting at once. His breath was sucked out of his chest and into the deity that hunted him.

Jason stumbled with a yelp as a set of bony phalanges dug into his ankle. It tore open the skin: a raw, ragged cut that burned deep. His balance was ripped from beneath him. Jason’s elbows hit the grass and a painful tremor rocked his limbs. He tried to scramble back, holding in his whimpers, but the hand had other plans for him.

It simultaneously climbed his leg for better leverage while it also yanked him closer to the burial hole.

Bruce was going to send him back to Hell.

“No, no, no,” he repeated, clawing at the grass in desperation. “Stop. Go away. Please,” he begged The Ghost.

He let out a sob when another hand curled around his top half. Jason tried to shove the pervasive arm off, wishing he’d never come. Even if you needed him.

“Go away,” he cried, choking on the simple syllables. The air talked back to him in a frequency too loud and sizzling.

At once, an arm dragged Jason from Bruce’s grave and the entranced skeleton. Jason grappled with the being that engulfed him as he voiced his anguished pleas. They quickly devolved into hyperventilated sobs.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, little wing,” was pressed into the back of his head, amongst his curls.

He was slow to comprehend the words, but when he did, he stammered out, “Wh—at?” Because that hadn’t been Bruce’s disembodied voice. Bruce had never called him little wing.

He pried at the arm clutched around his collarbone and found chestnut freckled skin—warm, alive.

“We should’ve been there. I should’ve been there for you,” the voice continued in a mournful blubber of their own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jason peered through his glossy eyes at his leg to see it was completely intact. Another guttural weep unleashed from deep within his gut. What was ever real in his life? Were you? Was Dick?

The arms around him tightened. His companion’s hot tears fell down his neck. “We should’ve—we should’ve saved—”

“Dick?” Jason’s words were strangled between harsh breaths.

“I know I can never make up for it. I’m so sorry,” he agonised by his temple. “I’m here now, Jason.”

Jason was drained and confused and his chest heaved like he’d overdone a workout. His ears rang incessantly. He tried to look over his shoulder to see his newest companion. All he could manage to say, dully, was, “I killed Bruce.”

“You didn’t. You didn’t,” came Dick’s immediate, stringent reply. “Bruce killed Bruce. He left us. He’s a coward, Jason. He couldn’t live with his choices.”

He was floored to hear that from Dick of all people. He deflated into his touch, overly fatigued. “You don’t blame me?”

Dick let out a sad noise. “No. But you’re right to blame me. You—” Dick faltered over the unsaid, a streak from his eye punctuating his attempt, “—you died because of us.”

“Bruce dumped you,” Jason said in a low tone.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said sharply. “I was old enough to know better. I left you with him.”

Jason felt the sobs threaten to return at Dick’s plight. He struggled to keep his breathing even. He rubbed at the inner corners of his eyes, willing the wetness away. He swallowed through a painful lump when Dick’s fingers carded through his hair. It was a gentle, doting motion.

“I’ve missed you every day since, okay?” Dick said quietly. “I love you, Jay.” Feeling Jason’s muscles tense, Dick tried to soothe his agitation with a slow rub over his shoulder blades. “You don’t have to love me back,” he whispered. “It’s okay, promise.”

Jason croaked out something that resembled a sorrowful laugh. “But you’re my brother.”

Four rounds of Raven’s instructions had gotten you no closer to learning control. Your ability acted as it pleased: begin dutifully, then run astray. Sometimes the metallic pool was prompt to misbehave, straight to shooting wonky shards in every direction. If Raven wasn’t quick to banish them as they appeared—which you had no idea how she could do that—they left slices in the walls.

After another failed attempt, Raven resorted to words of encouragement. Well, her version of encouragement. She murmured your name calmly, “Powers aren’t easy.”

Your patience was stretched thin at this point. Even if it had only been twenty minutes. You threw your arms up in a tizzy and stared at the wall. “Why not? Getting them was.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her lips twitch, amused. “I doubt that’s true.”

So, maybe those ‘scientists’ had experimented for years before they’d even gotten a hold of you. And you ending up the way you had was nothing short of a miracle, considering their trail of dead bodies. But that didn’t make this process any more tolerable.

You shifted to your other foot, incensed by your lack of success. You resigned to muteness and glared at her. You would do that until the rage evaporated, you decided.

She remained unbothered and met your gaze. It was a long time before she spoke again, an idea having struck her. “Seeing your powers in action is good. It gives me a better understanding,” Raven said. “But let’s focus on baby steps.”

You folded your arms but listened. “What’s that mean?”

She sighed pre-emptively, knowing you wouldn’t like her suggestion. “Meditation.”

You huffed, loud and dramatic and absolutely in semblance of one of Jason’s tantrums. Raven said your name again in an inarguable tone. Your frown deepened, however you allowed her your attention.

“This is going to take time, no matter what. It did for all of us,” she told you resolutely. The fire within you was smothered by her pestilent honesty. “I’m sorry you’re frustrated and afraid of yourself, but you need to channel that energy. Meditation is good in that regards.”

You exhaled and let your arms drop. “Fine,” you said as your arms swung. “How?”

She asked you to sit down next to her so she could demonstrate her process. She ran through it in condensed steps. It sounded easy enough to replicate, but you knew clearing your mind wouldn’t be so simple.

Finally, she requested, “Let's do it together. I’ll guide you.” You gathered yourself into a comfortable position.

You tried to follow the breathing set as described by her soothing voice, but almost instantly your thoughts went to the very reason why you were doing this: the splatter of blood that had, up until seconds ago, pulsed warmly in another person’s throat. The way the energy drooled slow and thick under your skin, like mercury rising up an old thermometer. It always begged to be let out—I can solve your problems.

You blinked away the images of syrupy red splashed across walls and the unforgettable sound of someone gurgling on air. You willed plain darkness behind your eyelids.

It worked for a few minutes as you thought of rain against a window pane. A pretty noise, but too much of a striking similarity to the kind of droplets you ran from. With an aggrieved sigh, you moved onto something else before you grew more irritated.

And what was more perfect than Jason and his gloominess that haunted these halls?

He’d disappeared as soon as Raven had collected you. You wondered if he’d gone to sulk or trot around—it seemed as if he hadn’t been back here in some time.

Raven sensed your distraction. Her eyes fluttered open. Curiously, she asked, “What are you thinking of?”

You let your eyeballs know light again; the pastel and harsh hues of the gym. You looked to her as your brain fumbled to form a reply. You swallowed your uncertainty. “Why does Jason not like being here?”

Her eyes glazed over but there was no other indication that the question was an uncomfortable one. “Some things... happened, a couple of years ago,” she started. “The Manor and its residents bring up those unpleasant memories.”

You took her vagueness to mean the situation had been dire. You nodded, hoping she would give you a sliver more.

“He hasn’t forgiven us. Or himself, for that matter.”

What did he need to forgive them for? You desperately trawled your memories in search of an answer, as if it would jump out at you suddenly. Nothing did.

“He hasn’t told you much,” Raven mused. “About us and his past.”

“No, not much,” you agreed. “I know he was Robin.”

She nodded along. “Why do you trust him?”

Your chin lifted, puzzled by the query. Nevertheless, you said, “I saved his life and he saved mine.”

Raven sighed softly. She appreciated the candidacy and the fact that you obviously cared for him when they hadn’t been able to. “Thank you.”

You pulled your knees to your chest. “Thanks for helping me,” you said in turn. “Sorry that I’m a handful.” In the back of your mind, you acknowledged that it was odd to have a superior who was younger than you.

“We’ll figure this out,” she said and nodded in emphasis. The sincerity of her tone almost made you panic. You shrugged it off as you both stood.

Unsurely, you asked, “Same time next week?”

“Of course.”

You meant to leave, but your incessant need to have the last word made you pause. “You know, you never told me about your date.”

A shy smile spread across her face. “Garfield made a fool of himself. But... it was good.” Her nose scrunched. “Too fancy for my taste, though.”

You laughed, nerves eased by the simplicities of young love.

Leaving the Manor was a silent affair once you’d said goodbye to Raven, Alfred, and Dick, whom left his appearance to the last minute. Interestingly, he’d sent Jason off with a careful pat to his shoulder.

You climbed into the passenger seat as Jason decided to take over driving duties. You appreciated it, but his utter lack of mockery put you ill at ease. You glanced at him. Catching sight of his glassy eyes and shaking limbs, you quickly leaned over with a worried, “Hey.”

“Please don’t,” he rasped as he tilted back against the headrest. His tone made you stop. You dropped your hand, unsure how to proceed.

You stared at him, eyes wide and powerless. He’d never wanted your help or comfort before, so why would he start now? You shifted uneasily and glanced down at your hands. You wondered if this would ever get better between you—or at least easier to live with.

Jason sniffled. You glanced his way again as he wiped at a stray tear. Gravity tugged at the corners of your mouth. “I can’t watch you cry and ignore it,” you admitted. It was bad enough that the skin around his nose was a splotchy red, as were his cheeks. His undereyes and lips were slightly swollen, too.

“I need you to. Please,” he begged.

“No.”

Jason choked out a laugh, congested and caught on the sharp edges of melancholy. His bloodshot eyes found yours. “I said ‘please.’” His words were less sad this time around, but you knew he still searched for a way to make you concede.

You sloped forward, eyes steady on him. “And I told you. No.”

He made an argumentative noise. “You won’t let a man cry in peace? That’s cruel, even for you.”

You tried not to smile. “I’ll let you cry, for a price.”

His brow raised in muted defeat. “What’s that?”

You let your hand fall onto the centre console, palm facing upwards. Your fingers lay limp and parted in anticipation. Jason looked down at your hand. The muscles in his throat worked hard as he deliberated his next move.

“If I hold your hand while I’m bawling my eyes out, we’re definitely going to crash,” he said pointedly, gaze flashing upwards. “And then Roy will finish the job.”

With a flippant smile stretched across your face, you said, “Okay.”

“‘Okay?’” repeated a bewildered Jason. You shrugged and twisted towards the window, leaving your hand where it was. “Damn you,” he muttered.

But it wasn’t long after that his fingers laced with yours. He stared at you, hoping you’d turn back to see the mess you’d made of a vulnerable man.

Instead, you pulled his hand to your face. For half a second, he cradled the plumpness of your cheek, and then you pressed your lips to his pulse point. You did it again for good measure, and Jason wondered if you felt the heart attack he was currently experiencing.

Your nose nudged the skin of his wrist as you looked at him from under your eye lashes. His heart slammed against his chest. So much had changed between you in mere days and it scared him as much as it set off his adrenaline.

Your mouth grew into an unruly smile, cheek pushing into his palm. He watched, unblinking, bewitched.

Your lips just barely grazed him when you whispered an inviting, “You can cry now.”

Jason was stuck on your exceptional kindness. He recalled the softness of your cheek in comparison to his calloused skin and of how you’d nuzzled into him unabashedly. Then you’d dismissed it all with your teasing, only holding him close for a few moments longer. His fingers twitched, wishing to repeat the strange awe-inducing experience.

Jason recoiled—unlike you ever had around him—when he heard August’s grating voice.

“So, you’ve mended things then?” they confirmed upon hearing about his face reveal.

His jaw flexed as the memory washed away from his touch-starved brain. “S’pose,” he mumbled.

“Would you disagree?” August prompted, pen tapping at their clipboard a couple of times.

Jason thought back to the stupid vow of commitment he’d made. He let out a sigh. “No.”

“But you’re still worried?”

His hands trailed over the chair’s armrests distractedly. He offered a simple, “Yes.” His measured eyes looked up to August to see how invested they were in the discussion.

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” Jason huffed, “they could change their mind.”

The doctor took note of his concern. “Do they have reason to?”

“Of course they do. I died and I’m evil.”

August had to bite back a laugh at how plainly he stated the facts. “Jason,” they admonished.

“What? It’s true,” he scoffed and his hands tightened, indenting the plush fabric.

“I believe you’re oversimplifying things.”

“You reckon, huh?” Jason said, baiting them into an argument.

August didn’t engage, instead changing gears. “Do you plan to share these fears with them? Or potentially the secrets themselves?”

“Ha,” Jason bit out, jaw clenching immediately afterwards. “Hell no.”

August ignored his swift rejection of the idea. “Perhaps it’s time to put that trust to the test, Jason. Start with something small?”

He looked away as sourness filled his mouth. How could he start small when every secret he had was more monstrous than the prophesised black hole that would consume the Earth whole?

“Have a little faith in the ones who choose to love you.”

His head whipped back around. Love? The very suggestion made his saliva turn to ash and his hearing dissipate to a mere vibration. The train of thought was entirely too much, so he changed it. “I went to the grave site.” He breathed out shallowly. “Mine. Bruce’s.”

Their head tilted. “How was that?”

“Bad.”

A thin smile slipped onto August’s face. “You’ve recited more poetic verses than that.”

He shrugged, falsely unbothered. “Dick was there.”

“Oh?” August asked, resting their elbows on their knees.

“He said... he said he was sorry.” Jason met their waiting eyes. “For not doing enough. For letting me...” He sucked in another breath. He looked down, fingers raking over where his holsters ought to be. “For letting me die alone,” he finished, only a blip of his anguish surfacing.

“He said that?”

Jason nodded once, not able to level his gaze. Tension remained in his shoulders.

“Wow,” August hummed, impressed with the update. “Was that cathartic?”

“A fraction,” he admitted.

“That’s excellent, Jason,” the doctor continued. “Will you be pursuing a healthier relationship with Dick?”

He looked up then, his forehead creased. He found the wording... not to his liking.

August breathed a little louder; a quiet kind of chagrin. He almost smirked—that was what finally upset them? The implication of incest?

Instead, his head slanted in challenge as he made no attempt to answer.

“Do you think this will help fix things with your family?” they finally amended, posture straightening with obvious displeasure.

Jason shrugged at their lacklustre response. “Maybe once the anger wears off.”

The stone ledge of the building dug into Jason’s underside, a cold and biting reminder of where he was. He let the cigarette smoke hang in his lungs a second too long which caused his next exhale to morph into a cough. The wisps joined the smog of the city, dissipating into a lingering odour. He knew the smell would cling to his clothes no matter what. He also knew he was contributing to the ripe pollution of Gotham—and thus ruining the starry show he liked to watch—but pick your battles, right?

He breathed out again, this time through his nostrils only. It was a welcome burn.

Jason’s head swivelled the short distance upon sensing a new presence. Having expected it to be either you or Roy, he was put off when he found an unfamiliar face. The glow around them was halo white.

Great, he huffed with a roll of his eyes. He was going to have to act as mediator.

Jason didn’t greet them. He watched, for a moment, as they simply pottered about the roof top aimlessly, passing by the scattered remnants of people who’d been there at one point in time. He saw their mouth move, perhaps to have an argument with themselves. Which was even better, he thought sardonically, because now their crazies matched.

He looked back over the city, undecided if the colourful luminescence was more or less comforting than the plain white. Annoyance flickered in his chest as he felt the person’s eyes stop on him. Jason turned back with a scowl. “What?” he snapped, and there was a click in his jaw. He should be nicer to the dead, but, hey, he was busy, okay?

“You’re the risen Lazarus.”

Jason’s movements stuttered, unsure how to proceed. The words lay somewhere between a statement and a question. He didn’t think he’d ever been called that, at least not to his face.

“Why?” Jason’s question came out cautious. His body shifted involuntarily towards the person as years of defensive training reared their ugly head.

“Are you not?” They sounded confused by his lack of hasty confirmation, as if all of the things they had to share depended on his very existence. Their head tilted, eyes raking over his body and up to the streak in his hair.

Jason took the opportunity to repay the favour. It was a man, most likely younger than him. His outfit was nothing special; just casual, everyday wear. Nothing about the stranger screamed scary or unpredictable. Despite this, Jason felt like he teetered on a dangerous precipice.

“No, you are,” the ghost muttered to himself. He drifted closer.

“Again, why?” Jason bit out, tongue pushing against the back of his teeth.

“There’s a hole,” the man replied.

Jason held back a laugh soiled by bitterness. “Shit, in Gotham?” he snarked. “You don’t fuckin’ say.”

The ghost shook his head frantically. “No. The veil between worlds has splintered.” His eyes fixed on Jason, full of a message that hadn’t been received. “Things aren’t right.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “No shit. Why else would I be ‘Lazarus’?”

“You misunderstand, mister.” Agitation slunk into the man’s posture. “It’s been searching for you.”

Jason abruptly straightened and the cigarette fell from his grasp. Blood drained from his face. Goosebumps prickled along his neck and arms in an immobilising wave. “What does that mean?” he pressed, concern making its way to the creases of his forehead.

“Your resurrection is an unpaid due,” the man said. His eyes darted around the fringes of the building warily, recoiling from every gleam of moonlight. It was like he expected something to jump out at any time. “Don’t you feel it? Death lurking in the shadows?”

Of course he fucking felt it. He practically had every soul of the underworld perched on his shoulders, in and out as they pleased. But never to deliver such cryptic messages.

Jason swallowed, trying to wet his parched mouth. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked in a coarse timbre.

“Being dead sucks,” the man said with a shrug. The ghost whirled around then, seeming to lose interest in the conversation.

“How long?” Jason tried again, leaning forward with intent. He couldn’t stop the person from randomly disappearing, but he needed to know more than he’d already speculated.

The man’s eyes traced pavement instead of him. “It draws closer every day.” Staunchly, he suggested, “You should run. This place is a beacon.”

A creak from the balcony below interrupted the suspense. The phantom shot him a wistful look as he twisted back around, taking stock of one of the last beings he was able to communicate with.

Even after the stranger walked off the building’s edge and vanished, Jason stared at the space where he’d stood. His eyes didn’t waver even when you crept into sight.

A/N: i wanted to point out which scenes are my favourite this week, but tbh, ch 19 and 20 are both close to my heart. hope you'll see why! enjoy :-)

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Tags: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @caswinchester2000, @missxfeels, @thequietchildren, @midnxghtblue, @plantedcats, @darkness-falls-xo, @urminebutidontwantyou, @sweetsaph, @thetiny-hufflepuff

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The Cosmic Horror of Gotham City

CHAPTER TWENTY / MASTERLIST / Subscribe on AO3

Pairing: Jason Todd/Non-binary!Reader

Summary: Flirtatious Jason makes a return.

Word Count: 7,752.

Jason recoiled when another hand caged his. Wide-eyed, he caught sight of your fingers as they closed around his, soft and with an unusual warmth. His gaze jumped to your face.

“S’okay, Jason,” you said, still half-asleep. He had to wonder if he imagined it altogether. He swallowed, throat dry. “C’mere,” you murmured again, hand tightening over his. You tried to pull him to you, but he resisted.

“Huh?” he whispered, truly thinking he must’ve fallen asleep or finally given into insanity.

You sighed. “Come. Here,” you repeated, stern but quiet. You tugged on his arm till he moved, and then you placed his palm on your cheek. You held it there securely.

Your eyes blinked open, blurry and unseeing in the darkness. “D’you have a nightmare?” you asked.

He shook his head, but he was certain it was half-hidden amongst the pillows. “Jus’ couldn’t sleep,” he said, voice hoarse.

You let out a cute, “Hmm,” as your eyes closed again. Your hand fell from his.

Feeling a little braver, he allowed his thumb to graze your cheek, drawing nonsensical, languid patterns. He relaxed when you smiled into his hand. Your head tilted into it.

“Feels nice,” you mumbled sleepily.

His breath hitched, but he didn’t stop. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

One of your hands came up to his chest and balled into the fabric of his shirt. It made the fingers he ghosted down your neck falter. With a disgruntled noise, you pushed his hand to your scalp.

He took that to mean keep going. Jason let the strands of your hair curl around his fingers as he explored, urged on by curiosity. You didn’t seem opposed—really, you snuggled closer the longer he did it.

Your eyes fluttered beneath the lids. His hand dropped to stroke the fragile skin; guiding your path back to the realm of the unconscious. “Go back to sleep, pretty thing,” he placated. “Don’t worry about me.”

READ THE FULL CHAPTER HERE

Tags: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam, @caswinchester2000, @missxfeels, @thequietchildren, @midnxghtblue, @plantedcats, @darkness-falls-xo, @urminebutidontwantyou, @sweetsaph, @thetiny-hufflepuff

More like Angels

Pairings: Hades!Jason Todd x Angel!Reader.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, mentions of torture (tongue cutting, nudity, etc), forbidden love, possession, minor injuries.

Summary: Jason Todd, one of the most powerful Greek gods, takes a specific liking to a certain Angel.

Jason knew that he was obsessed the moment you had stepped into the underworld, but who was to tell him that his obsession was wrong?

You must have been the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, your soft hair falling over your shoulders in waves and your wings strong and beautiful, dragging along the polished floor behind you with grace. You were adorned in gold jewels from Hera, and a white gown that hugged your curves perfectly and left little to his imagination.

Although your gaze was downcast, stood behind Hera, or otherwise his sister, Cassandra, he could see the innocent curiosity in your eyes as you glanced around his palace. It must have been very different compared to your home in Olympus. When you finally noticed his gaze, you were quick to avert them back to your feet, a deep blush coating your cheeks.

Jason knew then that he had to have you.

Somehow, he had managed to convince Hera to stay longer than intended, meaning that you would be staying, too. Jason would find any pathetic excuse to get you alone, sending the other angels off for tasks but insisting that you stay at his side. For what reason? He never said.

He would make flirtatious comments whenever he could, loving the reaction he pulled from you every time. Your flustered expression would always play in his mind, and it only made him do it more when you had no intention of stopping him. A god and an angel were never meant to be, and Jason knew this very well.

When you had asked him a question about his home, referring to him as Hades, he was quick to correct you almost instantly. It was Jason to you. Only you. Of course, you had been hesitant to refer to him as his proper name, but after consistent reminding from Jason, you had slowly begun to ease into the routine, secretly loving the way his name practically rolled off your tongue.

He found any excuse to touch you, whether it be simply grazing the tips of his fingers along the feathers of your wings, claiming how soft they were, or simply reaching over to feel your flesh against his own. You let him, loving the feeling yourself. No god had ever been this intimate with any angel before, yet Jason planned to change that.

It was no surprise to Jason when he heard the rumors - he would pass his servants within the corridors to which he would hear the quiet murmurs of whispers and burning eyes. Maybe he should have felt embarrassed, afraid even, but he couldn't help the pride blooming within him.

You, however, were much different. You could feel the lingering gazes of people whenever you stepped out of your room, deciding then that it was best to just stay in your room alone until you were personally requested by the gods. You hated the watchful eyes, hated the whispers and false rumors that continued to spread, and it made you fearful of what could happen if the gods were to find out your close relationship to the god of the underworld.

You had to admit that you loved Jason's presence. He was charming, daring, kind (to you, at least), and behind all of his anger, gentle. You refused to admit it to yourself, but you held a strong attraction for the young god.

Jason would always have a close eye on you, watching as you flowed with grace so easily around his home. It was like you had lived here this whole time. He swore that you would purposefully tease him, wearing clothes that were snug on your hips and breasts, talking to him with that sweet voice of yours... and he hated how much it affected him.

Of course, you weren't aware of this until later he had you pinned against your bedroom wall, lips trailing down your neck in pants and open-mouthed kisses, leaving purple marks in his wake. Anything to prove that you were officially his.

It had taken you by surprise, but you didn't hold back from kissing Jason back when his lips finally landed on yours, rough and wanting. His hands were eagerly grasping at the plush of your ass, causing for your mouth to open in a gasp which he quickly used to his advantage, slipping his tongue in.

Jason swore that you were a gift sent to him from heaven, and in a certain sense you were.

"You do this to me on purpose," he rasped against you.

"Do what?" You breathed, your lips chasing after his when he pulled back slightly, eyeing you with what you placed as lust.

So stupid, so naive.

His fingers were brushing against your skin, trailing down from the strap of your dress and over to your wings that fluttered at his touch. You let out a shaky breath when he slipped the strap of your dress off from your shoulders, letting the top of your dress drop down the curve of your breasts. Jason was instantly taking you in, admiring your bare body before him. You felt uneasy under his burning gaze, but before your arms could move up to cover your body or your wings could move to wrap around you, he was pulling you in for another deep kiss.

The both of you stumbled over to the bed, his hands pushing you back as your body landed upon your soft sheets that he ensured the maids laid out for you.

He wasted no time in brushing his nose against the nape of your neck, his lips brushing against the warm flesh. Your scent was arousing to him, like honey and rain. You were so oblivious to him, so oblivious to how much he craved you.

He took a moment, admiring your body laid out before him, your eyes staring back up at him with the same passion he held. The dress still hung loosely on your hips, and he was quick to rip it from your body. Jason's mouth practically drooled once he saw your bare cunt between your thighs.

"Beautiful, my love," he whispered, barely audible, but you heard it.

He knelt down, hands parting your thighs and breath hitting your slit. Any attempt at closing your legs was a fail when Jason kept his hands strong in place.

"Jason?" You questioned, voice like honey to his ears. "I-I don't know if we should do this."

He glanced up, meeting your eye and seeing the evident uncertainty held within them.

"Afraid somebody will catch us?" He teased, though you didn't return his smile. "Let them," he finished, before delving into your pussy.

You couldn't help the moan that slipped your mouth when his tongue flattened out against you, lapping at your juices. His nose nudged at your clit causing for you to gasp, and a single digit slipped into your cunt with ease. Jason pumped his fingers, craving the sounds of your moans and whimpers as you writhed, body shifting and fingers tugging roughly at his hair.

He couldn't have loved it more.

His lips attached to your clit, sucking and tugging at it gently that caused your back to arch, your mouth open in a silent moan. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but Jason tapped your thigh impatiently.

"Eyes on me, angel," he spoke into your pussy, the vibrations causing for another wave of pleasure.

"Jay-" you whimpered, and Jason felt the blood rush down into his pants.

Just as your climax was right at its peak, Jason pulled back with a mischievous smirk, crawling back to hover above you. The tears threatened to spill from your dark lashes, the coil in your stomach beginning to fade. You couldn't help but to buck your hips slightly.

Shrugging off his shirt, he tossed it randomly onto the floor and dove back to your lips, only this time, it was gentle. His hand combed through your hair, feeling it between his fingers. You would have thought it was all innocent and sweet if it weren't for the very prominent budge pressing against your upper thigh.

"Give me your hand," Jason demanded, and you listened. Your hand came up before his face and he grabbed it firmly within his own, brining it down to his pants.

He chuckled at the wide-eyed look you gave him. "Don't worry, Angel. You want to make me feel good, don't you?"

You nodded your head, and he took that as his sign to finally bring your hand down to his clothed bulge, watching you intently as your fingers travelled along his cock. He couldn't hold back the deep moan when you pressed down on him.

Jason wasn't a patient man. He was quick to strip himself of his pants and watch you admire his body. Big, muscled, and beyond anything you had seen before. You wondered what the others would say if they saw you right now - you would be kicked out of your home in Olympus, even possibly killed for your sins! Yet, you paid no mind as you let your hands wander Jason's body, craving to feel it against yours. Your cunt pulsed with need, and Jason knew this.

"Please, Jay," you begged, kissing his cheek and then his lips.

Jason watched you, silent, but then he tapped the side of your hip with his finger.

"Get on your hands and knees."

You did, your ass on display for his view and wings laying neatly over your body. You looked back at Jason as he took you in, his hand squeezing at the plush of your ass. Without another word, he was lining up behind you, cock pressed against you as he unintentionally bucked his hips, causing for the both of you to moan.

"It will hurt," he said, voice gruff yet full of determination. The tip of his cock pocked at your entrance, and you knew he wasn't lying. He was big.

He began to slip in, and you cried at the painful stretch. You were thankful that he had prepared you moments before. A tear slipped down the curve of your cheek the more Jason pushed in, and he hushed your cries when he bottomed out.

His hand laid against your back, following the arch and then caressing your soft wings. For a moment, you both sat still, adjusting to the new feeling of him inside you.

Jason hovered over your back, pressing his lips behind your ear before he began to move. It was small, short thrusts at first, but it soon turned quick and hard. The pain soon turned to pleasure, and your face laid pushed into the sheets as moans spilled out from your mouth.

"Fuck, you know you could get in so much trouble for this, right?" Jason grunted, landing a slap against your ass. You yelped, but he quickly eased the pain by rubbing his palm over the raw skin.

You tried to retort, but a particular hard thrust cut you off with a whine.

"I can't let anybody else have you... You're mine, Angel."

You knew he was right. With the many hickies littering your skin, the bruises that you were sure would show up by the morning between your thighs, you were Jason Todd's.

You breathed out, looking back at him once more with your teary eyes, although full of love. "I'm yours."

For the rest of the night, the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping on skin, broken moans, and heavy pants. When the time came that you had both grown sweaty and exhausted, Jason had laid beside you with an arm pulling you in close, your body being enveloped by him in warmth.

Jason hadn't seen you as much the past two days.

Though your behavior was normal between the two of you, everybody had just seemed to drag you away from him. First, it would be some of his servants and then the other angels, then eventually his sister was requesting your presence more often too.

It was also strange to him when Cass had insisted on speaking to him - tone blunt and firm.

So here he was, sitting upon his throne as she was stood before him, as well as his two brothers.

"What makes you think that they can enter my home?" Jason demanded, his gaze drawn to his sister in anger, but she remained stoic.

"Jason," his brother, Dick, spoke up. "We know about the girl."

Jason felt his heart rate quicken, though he didn't show it. He remained calm in his posture and only raised a brow.

Hera, or Cassandra, shook her head. "It was already a mistake coming to stay here, Jason, but it was an even bigger mistake to take her innocence."

Jason scoffed. "I haven't seen her for days. Your accusations are wrong," he spoke, but he felt his stomach drop when the three eyed him carefully, the large doors behind them swinging open to reveal your broken form.

You had two people on either side of you, dragging you into the throne room as you wept in their arms. When they tossed you onto the floor before him, he had the chance to properly take you in.

Your clothes were torn and dirty, practically already falling off your body and revealing yourself to cruel eyes. You had multiple cuts and bruises across your body, your wings a messy wreck, and just by looking at you Jason could tell that you were weak and vulnerable. It angered him.

"You dare do this in my home?" He growled, eyes burning with fury as he stood from his throne. "Release her!"

Dick shook his head. "We can't do that, Jay."

"Don't ever fucking call me that!" Jason attempted to walk to you, but his path was blocked. More people began to crowd the room, and the only thing Jason could hear was the horrified whispers and your loud sobs.

"She has broken one of the many laws, Jason. She's a traitor." Hera spoke, pointing to your frame. "She must be punished. If it weren't for your own selfish desires, nobody would be in this current situation."

The murmurs of the onlookers made his fury burn. How dare these people look at you - belittle you - in front of him?

"She should have her tongue cut out," A voice spoke from the crowd. "Hell, even rip her wings from her body!"

The last thing Jason heard was a loud cry and then crimson red blood seeping onto the floor. Gasps and screams filled his palace, and Jason turned to his siblings, the bloodied man below him nothing more than dead flesh.

"You leave my realm at once before I do the same to all of you," Jason began. "If you ever come back, I will rip your limbs from your body myself and feed you to Cerberus."

Jason swore he had never been so angry in his life.

His three siblings looked at him. Was it disappointment? Anger? He didn't care. Not now.

"She's not welcome back. If she does, I'll kill her myself," Cass spoke, before eyeing your form and walking out the door. His two brothers following behind.

Jason rushed to your side, and you didn't hesitate to throw your arms around him despite your pain, crying into his shoulder and his shirt soaking your warm tears.

It was then that Jason decided he would never let you out of his sight. You were his, and he would kill anybody who tried to take you from him.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

A Undead Replacement - Batfamily x Reader

Requested by Anon  - an imagine in which alfred is on vacation so lucius fox recommends you to take his place while he’s gone and at first the family doesn’t trust you but after a while they do. Then one day cause tim still doesn’t trust you he sneaks into your room and reads your diary only to discover that you’re a vampire which also explains why you didn’t mind being around blood when you were patching them up after patrols.

***

“So, Lucius recommended you?” Bruce Wayne asked from behind his desk at Wayne Manor. He narrowed his eyes at you as if looking into your soul. You sat in a chair in front of his desk with your suitcase sitting next to you.

“Yes, Mr. Fox said you needed a temporary replacement,” you answered coolly, meeting his gaze. “Since your butler will be away for three months.” He was trying to intimate you. You had to fight to keep yourself from laughing at him. 

Bruce hummed, sensing that you were amused by him. “And you know about our…’nightly’ activities?” 

You smiled at him, sending him a wink. “Yes, I know you are Batman, Mr. Wayne.” He frowned at your bluntness, studying you. You simply met his eye, waiting for him to make a decision. 

“You do understand your duties would include not just the house, but the downstairs as well?” Bruce mumbled, glancing back at your resume.

“The Batcave is the downstairs, yes?” He frowned at you again making him appear like a spoiled child. “I am trained to handle the types of situations you usually have, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce pursed his lips in thought. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I guess I will trust Lucius’ judgement and hire you.” You smiled brightly at him, standing up to shake his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I’m sure you’ll find my work satisfactory,” you stated cheerily as he took your hand.  

“Your hand is freezing,” he commented, his eyes flickering to yours in concern.

You shook your head. “My hands are always cold,” you replied unconcerned. Your eyes shifting slightly at the truth of the statement. You drew back your hand though, self-conscious. “Now, if you would be so kind, Mr. Wayne. I would like to be shown to my room to unpack before I start.” You picked up your suitcase.

“Of course…,” Bruce answered, guiding you out of the room. 

“You can call me, (Y/N), Mr. Wayne,” you interrupted. You sensed his discomfort at not remembering your name. 

“And you may call me Bruce,” he said, giving you a friendly glance as he led you out of room. You sighed, gazing around at the magnificent house around you. Somehow, you felt like you were about to embark on an adventure. 

***

It took you a few days, but you soon settled into a pattern around Wayne Manor. Each day, you would cook breakfast, lunch, and dinner for whoever was in the manor at the time. You also did the housework, which was a lot considering how big the manor was. At night, you would clean and manage the Batcave. Also, if they required it, you would provide medical treatment for the batfamily. 

The family was cold to you at first. They didn’t trust you, and you understood that since they held so many secrets, but you worked to gain their trust. 

Surprisingly, you gained most of their respect, not from your cooking or house cleaning, but for your medical skills. It was on one night when Damian came in with a deep cut on his arm.  There was a lot of blood, soaking through his costume. 

Dick carried him into the medical bay, minutes after they called to inform you of the emergency. Damian seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness, his head resting limply on Dick’s shoulder.

“Put him down on the bed,” you ordered as Dick moved to carefully lay him down. You started to inspect the wound, removing the temporary bandage.

“It was a knife,” Dick explained, studying you as you moved with the expertise of a professional. He seemed to be waiting for something. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you answered calmly, looking up at Dick to see the blood soaking through his costume. “Why don’t you change, Richard? I’ll take care of Damian.”

“It’s only a scratch,” Damian mumbled softly. You gently prodded the wound before grabbing cleaning supplies.

“I knew I shouldn’t have showed him Monty Python,” Dick remarked, leaving the room. He waited until he knew you would be able to help Damian. Honestly, he was surprised when you didn’t react to the blood at all. 

Damian mumbled some more, but you couldn’t understand him as you prepared the stitching. “This will sting a little,” you warned as Damian huffed before closing his eyes.

Halfway through the stitches, Bruce marched in, still dressed in his batsuit. “Is he alright?” he demanded with worry in his eyes. You looked up from the stitches to give him a smile before continuing. 

“Damian will be fine, Mr. Wayne. The cut missed the tendons, so there will be no permanent damage. He will just have to recover from the blood loss, but he won’t need a transfusion. Just rest,” you detailed, finishing the last stitch. Bruce stood on the other side of the bed, brushing the hair out of Damian’s face. Your heart melted at the tenderness of the moment. 

Bruce watched you bandaged Damian’s arm. “You are skilled as Lucius said,” he muttered to himself. Sending him a look, you rolled your eyes.

“Of course I am, Mr. Wayne,” you replied, not knowing what else to say to that. Suddenly, you found Dick, Tim, Jason, Cass, and Stephanie stumbling into the room. The others kept their distance while Dick came to stand at your side.

“He will be okay, right?” Dick asked, frowning at how pale Damian was. You smiled at him before glancing at the others.

“Damian will be fine. He just needs to rest,” you assured, finishing Damian’s bandage to turn to clean up the medical bay. “I have sandwiches ready if any of you wish for one.” Jason, Cass, and Stephanie left the room excitedly for they had grown to love your sandwiches. Tim remained, studying you with uncertain eyes.  

“We should probably get him out of his suit,” Bruce stated, glancing at you for permission. You nodded as Bruce scooped Damian up in his arms and carried him towards the changing area. Dick followed, leaving you alone with Tim. 

You felt his eyes burning into you. “Is there anything you need, Tim?” He narrowed his eyes at you before turning to swiftly leave the room without saying a word. You furrowed your brow in confusion before continuing your work. 

***

Tim didn’t trust you.  Everyone else insisted he was being paranoid, that he had trust issues. While Tim understood he had a hard time trusting people, with you it was different. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt like you were hiding something. 

Perhaps it was the way you avoided sunlight at all costs. If you did go outside during the day, you would wear a hat, gloves, heavy jacket, boots, and sunglasses as if you were trying to prevent any sunlight from touching your skin. Then, there was your eyes. They were this mysterious red color with yellowish circles around your pupils. Everyone else thought it was cool, but Tim was sure it meant something.

Finally, there was the fact you didn’t seem to eat. Everyday, you would make meals for the family, yet Tim never saw you take a bite. Even when you had to taste test something, you always called Damian over to do it. You appeared healthy enough, but Tim didn’t know what to think.

Eventually, after being yelled at by Bruce and Dick for being rude to you, Tim decided to take action. 

He waited until you headed off to the grocery store. Once he saw you disappear out the door, bundled to the brink even though it was seventy degrees out, Tim secretly made his way towards your bedroom.

The door was locked, but Tim picked the lock in a second before slipping into the room. Much to his surprise, it seemed rather ordinary. It was neat, as could be expected since you were the housekeeper of sorts, with only a pair of tennis shoes laying haphazardly in the center of the room. 

Tim inspected the shoes, frowning when they appeared to be normal. Quietly as he could, Tim searched the room. He checked the dresser drawers, under the bed, the closet, and even your bathroom cupboards.  

He was quite surprised when he found some empty blood bags in your garage can. Checking the label, he was even more shock to find they weren’t from the cave for they were blood types none of the batfamily had. 

When he could find nothing else of interest, and was about to leave the room to reveal his discovery of the blood bags to the family, Tim found himself tripping on a loose floorboard. He landed with a loud thump, gasping when all the breath was forced out of his lungs from the impact. Staying still for a moment to see if he had been heard, Tim turned to investigate the floor board.

Underneath the floor board, Tim discovered three leather journals. The first one seemed to be from the 1980s, the second from 1930s, while the last one seemed to date back to the mid-1800s. Fascinated with his discovery, Tim opened the oldest journal. 

After he finished the journal, he moved onto the next one with much anticipation. He was a fast reader, and in a half an hour, he finished all three journals with his mind whirling. Suddenly, it clicked.

Tim’s eyes widened as he ran frantically from the room with the journals in his arms. He searched for the family only to be startled beyond belief when he found you in the kitchen, putting away groceries. 

“Hello Tim, I’m planning to make Manicotti for dinner. Mr. Wayne told me it was your favorite,” you said, giving him a warm smile. He flinched, staring at you with wide, terrified eyes. You noticed the fear on his face, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re…you’re a…,” Tim stammered, backing away from you. You noticed your journals in his hands, knowing right away what he was trying to say. Sighing, you paused your grocery sorting to put your hands on your hips.

“Well, Tim, I’ll have you know it is very rude to go through other people’s things without asking,” you scolded, loving how his jaw dropped open in surprise. He must have been expecting you to attack him or something. 

“But…but isn’t it also rude to keep secrets from your employers?” Tim replied meekly before taking a step towards you. Your journals were clenched to his chest. 

You tilted your head at him. “I don’t believe any of you ask me if I was a vampire,” you remarked, going back to putting away groceries. “It also wasn’t a question on the application Mr. Fox gave me either.” 

Tim was stumped by your answer, his mind racing for a reply. You smiled at him as if you knew you left him speechless. “It’s something we should know,” Tim finally spoke, approaching the other side of the island in the center of the kitchen. He laid the journals carefully on the island. “What if you suddenly get the urge to drink our blood?”

“You’re stereotyping me, Tim. Not all vampires bite humans for their blood, and not all of us have an uncontrollable urge for blood. It’s no different then food to humans. I don’t see humans going crazy over a bit of food if they’re not starving to death. Besides, I prefer to drink from blood bags anyway,” you explained, meeting Tim’s eye. He seemed to relax a little bit. “It’s more satisfying in a way.”  

“Is that why there were blood bags in your garbage?” Tim asked, raising an elbow. 

You glared at him before nodding. “Yes, and before you ask, I paid for them with my own money. I didn’t steal them from your blood supply.”

“I know, none of the bags held our blood types,” Tim interjected, sinking onto one of the bar stools to watch you. His past fear was replaced with curiosity. “What about the sun?”

Chuckling to yourself, you found it oddly relaxing to explain yourself to someone. You had kept your secret for so long, it was nice to express yourself openly. “Due to my vampirism, my skin is highly sensitive to sunlight, which is why I have to wear so much before going outside. I notice that the older I get, the more sensitive my skin gets. 

“According to your journals, you are over one hundred and fifty years old,” Tim stated, his fascination sparkling in his eyes. “Is that true?”

“Yes, and what is with all the questions? Are you really that concerned about me being a vampire?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him as you finished with the groceries and started dinner. 

Tim paused for a moment, pursing his lips in thought. “At first, I was, but it was only because I thought you were hiding something from us, but now, I don’t know. I’m just fascinated with the idea.”

You hummed, nodding in understanding before dropping your voice to a whisper. “While I know you wish to ask me questions, but I would prefer if kept this between us. Judging about what I know of your family, I don’t think it would be a good idea to reveal this to them.”

“Your secret is safe with me as long as you’re still making Manicotti,” Tim whispered back at you with a playful smile. Your heart warmed as you felt Tim finally trust you enough to show his true colors, even if it was bribery.

“Alright, we have a deal,” you agreed before gesturing towards the journals. “Would you please put these back where you found them?”

“Yes, (Y/N),” Tim replied, leaving the room calmly. His mind kept racing, wondering about everything he could learn with having you in the household. Part of himself wondered if he should tell the others, but he stopped that thought, thinking of the expressions on their faces when they learned about it on their own. 

I will never get into a relationship because I am fully committed to Jason Peter Todd.

Animal Instinct

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Reader (Platonic), Dick Grayson x Reader (Established)

Family dinners at the Wayne Manor was not uncommon and since being engaged to Dick, your appearance at his childhood home had only increased, not that anyone was complaining, you were part of the family now.

You always looked forward to family dinner, enjoying the huge number of people that attended, the delicious food and the boisterous atmosphere.

This time you and your fiancé had gotten there early so you were already seated in the dining room when everyone began filing in one by one.

You kept a close eye on the door, in a way that reminded Dick of his eager puppy awaiting for him to come home. When the person you were waiting for stepped in, your face lit up and you snatched up Damian into your lap.

He struggled, trying to push you off him but he was hardly any match for your super strength. You giggled, nuzzling your face against the top of his head. The rest of the family didn't even react, hiding smiles and chuckling at your dynamic.

"Why must you do this every time, (Y/N)?!" He whined, struggling to get out of your grip and you shrugged.

"I don't know, I see tiny human, I must cuddle tiny human. It's like animal instinct." You explained simply, pecking his cheek quickly and Damian pretended to give up his struggle and slumped against you like you knew he would.

"Are you comparing yourself to an animal?" Came his judgmental tone and you turned to face him with wide eyes.

"Are you implying that animals are beneath humans and it's therefore humiliating to compare myself to them?" You asked with faux innocence, knowing he'd never bad-mouth an animal.

Damian blushed and avoided your gaze, "No.."

You chuckled at him, "I just love you is all."

"You should feel lucky, lord knows she doesn't give me this much attention." Dick piped up and you stuck your tongue out at him.

Tim shrugged, "It's compulsory for the youngest of the family to get some (Y/N) lovin'. If you hate it so much, just hope that the next kid bruce adopts is younger than you."

Bruce grunted at this and you hid a laugh in Damian's hair.

The baby in your lap huffed as he completely surrendered to you, "The thought makes me sick."

No one had to ask him if he didn't like the idea of another sibling or of someone else getting your undivided attention. It was obvious in the way he burrowed his reddening face in your neck.

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Longest Night (1)

[AK!Jason Todd x Reader]

Word Count: 2520

Summary: When you miss the last evacuation bus out of Gotham in the wake of Scarecrow's threats, you have to come up with a new plan. Meanwhile, the Arkham Knight is searching for someone.

A/N: Finally got up the nerve to post this! Please be kind. I finished the Arkham Knight game recently, so that's where the inspiration comes from. And my chronic Loving Jason disease.

You re-entered your apartment as quickly and quietly as you could, muffling the jingle of your keys in your jacket pocket, finding the right one by touch before pulling them free. The hall was dark, each apartment door uncharacteristically silent. You were Gothamites, through and through. You knew where this was leading the second the city broadcast system crackled to life that morning. Those that were able had packed up immediately, waited in the nicer areas of the city waiting on their phones for the evacuation plans to be officially announced. You estimated that most of the people on your floor were gone, and you were happy for them. Unfortunately, you’d been a few minutes too late. 

You tossed your duffle bag onto the couch, leaving the lights off as you set about securing the door. Your tenuous connection with the Wayne family didn’t afford you a home in the nicer parts of the city - to be fair, you’d never asked - but it did afford you slightly above-average security. Dick Grayson had installed the four additional locks on your front door himself, and most importantly, he’d had the decency not to sneer at the quality of the building you’d ended up in. You were a Crime Alley kid, born and raised. And while your family had clawed its way somewhere marginally more respectable by the time you were a teenager, after everything that happened with Jason, Dick couldn’t pretend to be surprised that you’d made a home for yourself in a place like that. Not quite Crime Alley, which despite or perhaps because of your grief was unlivable for you. But close. And just as dangerous. 

You wedged your security bar into place next, testing the stability with the edge of your boot. You briefly considered moving some of your furniture up against the door as well but determined it would be more trouble, time, and noise than it would be worth. If they could get through the locks and the security bar, an armchair or table wouldn’t do you any good. 

Just as you backed away from the door, trying to slow your heart rate and think your options through, your phone buzzed to life in your pocket. 

Alfred Pennyworth

You flinched a little, involuntarily, but answered anyway, moving deeper into your apartment and speaking softly.

“Hello?”

“Please tell me you managed to get out of the city.” The lack of a proper greeting was the most obvious sign that Alfred was anxious. 

“Bad luck.” The disappointed sigh that followed almost made you smile. “You know I tried. I don’t have the pride or ego to assume I can survive the kind of night that warrants an official evacuation. I was just too late. There was one seat left on the bus, and it was either me or my 70-year-old neighbor. My chances of survival are better than hers, so…”

“If the people I cared about could all be a touch less noble, I believe I’d still have a full head of hair.”

“Funny.” You grabbed a utility knife from the top of your closet, propping your foot on the edge of wood trim to strap it around your ankle, concealing it neatly where the slightly bunched fabric of your jeans met the sturdy leather of your boot. 

“Well. Luckily for you, there is someone quite powerful who owes me a favor or two.”

“Bruce owes you about a thousand favors, but there’s not much he can do for me at this point, Alfred. I assume he made it out safely?”

“Your first option is to flag down a squad car and request refuge in GCPD. At the moment they’re still out patrolling, but I suspect they’ll be driven back before too long.”

You parted your curtains and blinds gently, making the tiniest possible gap to peer through. The streets below were deserted. No cars, no pedestrians, nothing. Calm before the storm, you were sure. Your remaining neighbors were probably doing to same as you were: waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to happen that would clue them in on how best to keep themselves safe tonight. 

“I don’t think I have the authority to do that.”

“You’re connected to the most powerful family in the city. Of course you have the authority. It may very well make you a target. That should be incentive enough for GCPD to take an interest. If not, you’re welcome to inform them that Bruce Wayne intends to repay them most generously for their assistance.”

Your chest tightened a little, the way it always did when someone reminded you of your “connection” to the Waynes. Because, to be quite blunt, there wasn’t one. Not anymore. All that was left, you suspected, was an uncomfortable obligation that came from guilt and grief. 

“Alfred…” You cut yourself off. There was no point in having this conversation now. Not again. “I don’t see any movement outside, let alone a squad car. And if I go looking for one, I have a feeling I’ll find trouble faster than I’ll find help.” 

“I see… Well, there is a second option. I’m afraid it’s a touch more… dramatic than the first.”

“Okay…” you said, letting the curtain fall back into place and looking around your dark apartment for anything that might be helpful to add to your bag or your person.

“Can you make it to the roof?”

“Probably.” 

With the duffle bag tossed back over your shoulder, you moved quickly to your bedroom, where the window opened onto a fire escape. Switching Alfred’s call to the earbuds you kept in the nightstand freed up both your hands, and you eased out onto the rusted metal landing carefully, pulling your bag out behind you and closing your window firmly. A quick glance around revealed the street was still deserted, nor were there any signs of life on the fire escape or in the other windows that let out onto it. 

“What’s the plan?” you whispered, moving upwards as quietly as possible. 

“I called in a favor. Someone will be along shortly to escort you to safety. Or as close to safety as we can manage tonight.” 

“That. Is unnecessarily cryptic, Alfred,” you complained, a panicked breath catching in your throat as an unfamiliar  low rumble echoed down the street. 

“You’ll soon see why.”

You gave an unconvinced grumble but were too winded to manage an actual reply, muscles straining as you pulled yourself over the top rung of the final ladder and onto the roof. 

“Move away from the edge. It would be better if no one saw you waiting.” 

“It would be better if no one saw me period,” you agreed, opting to stay low and crawl towards the water tank. You tucked yourself tight against it, trying to merge yourself with its silhouette as much as possible. 

The sun had almost completely vanished, and what was left of its light was heavily obscured by clouds. In these conditions, this roof was probably the safest place to be. Away from the parts of the city likely to see the most action. Not lit in any way, not overseen by the windows of taller buildings. And it didn’t hurt that, as a general rule, the criminals of Gotham had learned to steer clear of rooftops. Setting up shop on any Gotham rooftop was like sending a personal invitation to the vigilantes of the city to come ruin their night. 

You were considering sharing this thought with Alfred, pitching the idea of staying right where you were for as long as possible, saving that favor for later, when a faint rustling sound drew your attention. 

“Please try not to panic,” Alfred’s voice sounded in your ear as you stared into the shadows cast by the stairwell access. Something was moving there.

As you watched, a silhouette separated itself from the rest of the blackness. A very distinct silhouette, one you had never seen personally but could never mistake for anyone or anything else.

“Alfred,” you said softly, still not moving, hardly even blinking. “I hope you plan on telling me how the hell Batman ended up owing you a favor.” 

“In time. For now, we need to focus. Follow his instructions. Call me back when you’ve arrived safely.”

“Arrived where?” You pushed yourself hesitantly to your feet as Batman wordlessly held out a hand to you. 

“Please be careful,” was the only answer you received before the soft click of an ended call. 

*****

The remains of Killinger’s Department Store was a hotbed of activity and chaos. Groups of men in red military-grade body armor were engaged in the business of swiftly repurposing the space into a base of operations for the Arkham Knight and his militia. In a large and once-opulent owners office, the Arkham Knight himself paced restlessly in front of an array of recently-mounted monitors. More and more security camera feeds were becoming available as his men began to set up checkpoints and strongholds throughout the city. They needed to work faster. They needed to be better. Failure was not an option.

A brisk knock stilled him, and he called out his permission for whomever was outside to enter. A militia commander approached, face a solemn mask, betraying nothing.

“GCPD is pulling back their squad cars in response to the drone deployments on all three islands,” he reported. “They still have helicopters in the air over Bleake and Miagani, but enough of our missile defense systems are in place in Founders to keep the skies here clear.” 

“And your other operation?” the Knight prompted impatiently.

The militia commander hesitated for the briefest second. Anyone else may have missed it. The Knight did not.

“The name you gave wasn’t on any of the passenger manifests from the evacuation. She’s still in the city.” 

“But?” 

“I dispatched an APC and two drones to the associated address. No sign of her…” He swallowed uncomfortably. “The retrieval team reported an encounter with the Batman one block from the apartment building in question. In his car, headed the opposite direction.”

“Did they engage?” the Knight asked sharply.

“No, sir. He made no move to engage and evaded pursuit.” 

“Damn it!” The Knight’s fist came down, hard, on the desk. A crystal decanter, left by the office’s previous occupant, toppled over the edge and shattered explosively across the marble tiles. 

In that tank of a car, Batman only avoided a fight if he was carrying a passenger, and an important one, at that. One who wasn’t used to violence. One he didn’t want to scare.

He had her. The one person in this rotted cesspool of a city that was worth a damn. The person he had given his men orders to find and bring in, unharmed, as soon as they entered the city. 

Why, why would Batman take her? Why bother? He couldn’t know that the Knight was searching for her, not already. He couldn’t know anything about the Knight or his intentions. Scarecrow was the only one who had shown his hand. The Arkham Knight had yet to make his first move. So why? 

With hurried steps, the Knight approached the office’s computer system, drawing up the results of the borderline compulsive research he had engaged in before this plan was even fully formed. Images of you, stretching back a decade. The Gotham press adored a tragedy, and when the subject of a tragedy was as beautiful as you? Well, that was a gift that just kept giving as far as they were concerned. There were pictures of you published in the city’s newspapers every year on the anniversary of Jason Todd’s death, looking devastatingly lovely and distraught over the death of your first love, the ward of Gotham’s favorite billionaire Bruce Wayne. A fatal motorcycle accident, the papers’ reported, had turned your star-crossed love story into a tragedy and sent the eccentric and charming remnants of the Wayne legacy, Bruce Wayne and his adopted son Dick Grayson, deep into mourning. 

Bullshit. 

But more than enough reason for the press to chase you instead. You were much easier to catch. They turned you into a symbol, an icon, a tragic figure for the city to rally around once a year and consider the fate of Gotham youth. Of course, you were a grown woman now, but that only added more gravitas to the anniversary stories. Now, the photographers edited your photos in a gauzy black and white that gave you the look of an Old Hollywood star. Isn’t it so sad, the reporters wailed from the headlines, that she’s never moved on? Photos of you in a black dress because you knew the drill by now, crossing a busy street and pretending not to notice the camera flashes. 

But in the past ten years, you’d only been photographed with Bruce twice. 

Batman couldn’t have taken you because of the Knight’s personal feelings. And he certainly didn’t take you because of his own. What did that leave?

The next picture offered a solution. You were sitting at an outdoor bistro table with Alfred Pennyworth, sharing polite smiles and an array of breakfast pastries. 

Alfred. If there was one person whose heart and connections could be trusted, it was Alfred. At his current stage of life, he only left the grounds of Wayne Manor for people he truly cared for. And if he still cared for you that much, he would absolutely make whatever arrangements he could to protect you. Including calling in a very inconvenient favor. 

The Knight turned back to the militia commander, grateful, not for the first or last time, that his helmet concealed his face and voice. 

“Get eyes on every Wayne Enterprises building in the city. I want all angles covered, and I want to know the second someone gets eyes on Batman or that damn car.”

The commander nodded, tilting his head away to relay this information to his team via radio.

“Why’s he taking her to Wayne?” he asked, shifting slightly on his feet when he received nothing but a silent stare in response. “You want us to be able to think the way the Bat thinks, right? I’m not following this one.”

“She has connections to the Wayne family,” the Knight said impatiently, gesturing towards the monitors which were now filled with newspaper and paparazzi photos of you. “And those buildings will have the most state-of-the-art security measures in the city. He may even be able to airlift her out of the city from one of those locations.”

“Think the Bat’s on Wayne’s payroll?”

The Knight sighed in disgust, turning away again. 

“No. But that woman has been made important not just to the Wayne family but to the people of Gotham. She’s valuable. We need her. Unharmed.” 

“Understood.” 

“And commander?” the Knight called as the man made a move to leave. “If she arrives looking anything less than the picture of perfect health, I will be holding each and every member of the retrieval team personally responsible.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I don’t want to hear from you again until you have something.”

****

Let me know if you're interested in more! Would love to know what you guys think

A Sight for Sore Eyes - Jason Todd x Reader

Requested by Anon - Can I have Jason Todd run into his ex-wife? Maybe the heat is still between them????!!

Author's Note - I finally finished something! Also this is more like an estranged wife than ex. Hope that's okay!

***

"Stay here," you whispered to the maid who was nervously biting her nails. "I'll take the tea in."

"You sure? I hate that man." She looked around the kitchen as if the walls had ears. They did, but you doubt they were listening to you now. Not with the big meeting going on.

"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile to hide the butterflies in your stomach.

She added the last cup. "Thank you." She went to go sit in the corner with her head in her hands. Her face pale.

You understood her fear, trying not to feel it yourself. Touching the necklace around your neck, you pressed it against your collarbone. It took you a moment to gather your courage, but eventually you picked up the tray and headed out of the kitchen doors.

The Falcone residence oozed old wealth and a posh lifestyle. Almost like it wasn't funded by blood money.

You paused by the door and reached up to adjust the red rose pin on your shirt. Something Mario Falcone, the current head of the family after the blood bath that was the Holiday murders twenty years ago, added to all the Falcone servants' uniforms.

As if you needed a mark to prove you worked for Mario. You were literally in his penthouse serving tea.

You tapped the pin three times, hearing the slight beep of the recorder.

A lump formed in your throat as you prayed for any help from some higher power. You took a deep breath and quietly entered the office.

"And you want us to help you how?" Mario said from behind his desk. You walked across the plush Persian rug and set the tray on the desk. He gestured for you to stay. You backed into the far corner and folded your shaking hands behind your back.

The man in the other chair squawked. "I need men." You dared a peek. The Penguin looked older than you last saw him. He had a black eye. You wondered who punched him.

Mario leaned back in his seat, holding his fingers together. "What do you have to offer? I know Batman is breathing down your neck." He pursed his lips. "I'd rather not get that kind of attention."

The Penguin wiped sweat from his brow. You frowned slightly.

Mario motioned for you to pour the tea. You did, keeping your eyes on the floor.

"You see..." The Penguin took the cup of tea before you finished pouring. You stopped the tea just in time to barely miss his hand. He took a loud sip. You eyed him before pouring for Mario.

Mario raised an eyebrow. You added sugar to his tea and started to step back.

"If you don't give me men, I can't stop what they will do to you." The Penguin looked up with such genuine fear. Your heart stopped. From the widening of his eyes, you knew Mario's stopped as well.

"Who's they?" Mario glanced at you. He frowned. You quickly moved back to your place by the far wall.

The Penguin shook his head and dropped his cup. "I've already said too much." You stepped forward and knelt down to pick up the cup. Taking the towel you kept in your pocket out, you dabbed the tea stain.

The Falcones spilled. They were hot headed bunch after Carmine passed.

Although from what you knew of the Penguin, he never spilled. Your gut told you something was very wrong.

"Well, I can't help you." You heard Mario stand up. "Not if all you can give me is veiled threats."

"You don't understand." The Penguin stood up, almost hitting you with his cane. "This is your only chance, boy. Don't be a idiot."

You winced as you heard Mario take a sharp breath.

Glass shattered. You saw tea dripping down the far wall. "What did you call me?!"

Not again. You crawled back and stayed near the wall out of Mario's range.

Mario threw as many objects as his sister, Sophia. Neither had regard for who they might hit with those said objects. You had a cut on your arm to prove it.

"You stupid brat. As dumb as your father!" The Penguin's face flushed. "You just dug your own grave and probably mine."

Suddenly, screams echoed from inside the penthouse. The Penguin's face went white as a sheet. He flopped face first onto Mario's desk, spilling the rest of the tea tray.

You winced as everything shattered. Mario grabbed a gun from his desk drawer.

"(Y/N)." Mario tossed it to you. You caught it. It was heavy in your hands, bringing back old memories. You pushed them away as you swore you heard a gurgle on the other side of the door.

Mario took out another gun, loading it. He moved toward his fireplace. You watched as he pressed three different stones on it. A secret door next to it popped open. "Stay here and defend," Mario ordered.

"What?!" You watched him enter the secret room and shut the door. A lock whirled as it resealed. "Bastard," you mumbled.

You tapped the rose pin. "Help."

No response. You hoped it meant they were on their way. The office door rattled. You ducked into the shadows in the corner of the room.

Another scream echoed through the penthouse. The maid. You swallowed hard. You'd have to get to her.

Suddenly, the office door opened and an animal-like monster fell through. It had long claws, crawling on all fours. It sniffed at the Penguin.

You held your breath. It turned your way. It had an owl-like black mask that reveal part of it's jaw. You could see the bone. Zombie?

It let out a terrible shriek. You flinched. It saw the movement and sprang toward you.

You fired, getting it in the face. It flew back against the wall.

Not wasting a moment, you ran out of the room. Another scream came from the kitchen. You ran toward it, bursting through the door to find two more of the zombies surrounding the terrified maid.

Without hesitation, you shot both. They flew against the kitchen cabinets. You ran for the maid, grabbing her hand and going into the pantry.

She seemed to wake up from her shock to slam the door shut.

"Block it." You pointed your gun at the door. The maid ran, tossing bags of rice against the door. When she ran out, she grabbed everything off the shelves to add to the pile with no logical thought in her mind.

You let yourself feel the nausea in your stomach, the adrenaline shaking your very bones.

"What are those?" The maid whispered, freezing as more gunshots and screams echoed from somewhere else in the penthouse.

"I don't know." You swallowed hard, keeping your gun aimed at the door. "Do you have your phone?"

She nodded. "Should I call the cops?"

You shook your head. "I doubt they'd be much help." You held out your free hand. "Let me call a number I know."

The maid eyed you, but scratches on the door made her toss the phone into your hand. She got behind you, shivering.

You sighed and typed a number you knew by heart. It rang, much to your relief.

Your finger twitched on the trigger. The door began to rattle just as Oracle's voice came through the speaker.

***

Jason punched the last Talon. It spun before collapsing in a heap on the rooftop of the Gotham News building. "All clear here," Jason said, holding back a yawn.

He hadn't slept well. If anyone asked, he claimed it was the new bed, but he knew it was because you were no longer sleeping beside him.

Six months since you left. You hadn't bothered to contact him since walking out the door.

Jason stewed. "Red Hood, meet Batman and Robin at Falcone's penthouse. Talons are overrunning the place," Barbara said through his comm.

"Good riddance." Jason turned to look out over the city. The lights shined on the wet pavement. He took a deep breath of the damp air.

Barbara clicked her tongue. "Jason, (Y/N) is there."

Jason's blood ran cold. Your disappointed face flashed before his eyes. His feet were moving before his mind.

"Keep calm, Jason. I was just on the phone with her." Barbara's voice was faint. Jason grappled off the closest building, flying through the air before grappling to the next.

He didn't realize how fast he was moving until he saw Falcone's building in the distance. His legs burned, arms aching.

Jason couldn't let that disappointment be the last thing he remembered of you.

***

Nothing surprised Bruce much anymore. Years of being Batman had led him to expect the unexpected.

However, today was different.

He and Damian crashed through the skylight of Mario Falcone's penthouse to find a blood bath and several feral Talons.

What caused the Court of Owls to make a direct attack against the Falcone family? Why so many Talons? Why were they taking out everyone?

Questions he had to worry about later. Hopefully, you could shine some light on the subject. If he could find you.

Bruce threw a Talon against the far wall before dodging the blade of another. "Robin, find (Y/N)."

"TT." Damian's huff reached his ears just as the Talon next to Bruce shrieked. Bruce threw an ice grenade at the Talon. It exploded upon impact, freezing the Talon in place.

Damian ran out of the room, cutting down two Talons as he went with his katana.

More Talons crawled out of the vents. Bruce grimaced, catching a knife thrown by one of the Talons.

He let out a slow breath, calculating the best strategy before the far window shattered and a flash of red barreled in. The red took out three Talons from their momentum alone. Gunshots rang out quickly, almost making it impossible to identify them as separate shots.

Bruce's eyes widened. All the Talons fell. "Where's (Y/N)?" The flash of red turned toward Bruce. He finally could make out Red Hood, Jason.

Bruce nodded to the Talons. "That was...helpful."

Jason grunted. "Where is she?!"

"(Y/N)'s camera pinged in what looks to be the kitchen," Oracle said. "I'll lead you there."

Jason charged out of the room. Bruce followed, taking out a Talon hiding in the shadows of the hallway.

He hoped they weren't too late as they passed several fallen Falcone guards.

***

A fraction of the door broke off. A clawed hand reached through. The maid screamed. Everything in you wanted to shoot, but you held yourself back. You had two shots left, had to make them count if Bruce didn't make it in time.

Fuck Bruce for taking so long.

Please don't let Jason fall apart if you died. You doubted he was doing well since you left him, you couldn't imagine what he'd do if you died on a mission for Bruce.

"Grab something to fight with," you told the maid as she clung to the back of your shirt. "Anything."

She didn't listen, muttering prayers under her breath.

More chunks broke off the door. You let out a slow breath.

The first zombie started to crawl through, bending to squeeze through the small hole. You waited until it was halfway through before shooting it in the head.

The maid screamed. She pulled at your shirt. You had to fight to not fall back on her. The zombie went limp.

It blocked the hole, but soon it's body was pulled out and another zombie started to crawl through.

You shot that one in the head. It blocked the hole again, but the whole door started to shake. Scratches on the wood.

The other body was pulled out and just as claws enclosed on the edge of the hole, a shout came from the other room. Your heart skipped a beat. You lifted your hand to prepare to throw the gun.

You heard the slice of a katana followed closely by a remark of how disgusting this whole situation was. A smile pulled at your lips. "I think we're saved," you told the maid. She looked up at you before turning to throw up.

Gross, but you couldn't blame her. You wrinkled your nose and patted her back. "I'm sorry," she coughed. "You're so calm. Are you used to this?"

You bit your lip, wanting to say you married into it. However, all you could do is shake your head. "I'm not used to zombies. Not these kind anyway."

She looked confused, but you focused back on the door. "(Y/N)!" Jason's voice echoed from behind the door as it started to shake even more than before.

You froze. How did Jason get here? Bruce promised he'd keep him out of your mission. "Red?" You asked, raising your gun to throw just in case.

"Open the damn door. It's safe," Jason demanded. A rush of anger filled you.

The maid looked at you with wide eyes. "I thought you said you didn't call the cops."

"I didn't." You didn't look at her, keeping your eyes on the door. "How do I know it's you, Red?"

The irritated sigh that followed confirmed it for you. He did that to you a lot. One of the problems in your marriage actually.

"(Y/N), the area is secure." Damian's snotty voice made your anger cool. "You may exit now."

The maid grabbed your hand as you moved to shove things out of the way. She didn't help you, just squeezed your hand until you thought your bones broke.

You opened the door to find Red Hood flying forward to crush you against him. All the breath left your lungs.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but this time it was for other reasons. Reasons you weren't going to think about for now.

"I'm fine, Red," you whispered to him.

"You better be." Jason pulled away when the maid cleared her throat.

"Robin, guide her to safety," Bruce ordered, nodding to the maid. The maid squeaked at being addressed.

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but one look from Bruce silenced him. "Come along," Damian said, taking the maid's arm.

"(Y/N)?" The maid looked at you wide eyed.

"I'll be fine." You flashed her a smile. "Don't worry. Robin will keep you safe."

She bit her lip, but let Robin drag her out of the room.

You looked around the kitchen at the zombie bodies on the floor. The counters were cracked, cupboards pulled down, glass from the dishes covered every surface. Luckily, you were wearing thick shoes.

"Report," Bruce said. You pursed your lips and looked at him. He looked no worse for wear.

Jason tensed. "Wait a minute." He shook his head. You wished you could see his face, but the helmet hid it. "Is this where you were this whole time? You were undercover for him?!" He was glaring at you. You hated when he did that with his helmet on.

"You aren't the only one who can disappear for months," you snapped, narrowing your eyes.

He flinched. "That's low."

"Oh that's low. Isn't it low to not tell your wife that you're running away to space with your ex?" You crossed your arms.

"Enough." Bruce stepped between you and Jason. "Work this out later." He turned toward you, giving Jason his back. "Report."

Jason huffed. You couldn't stop yourself from smiling at the sound. "Mario had a meeting with the Penguin." You tapped your pin. "I recorded it."

"Where are they?" Bruce studied you. You felt touched your sort of father-in-law cared enough to check you for injuries.

"In Mario's office. Penguin fainted once the attack started. The zombies left him alone for the most part." You gestured for them to follow you toward Mario's office.

Jason bullied his way in front of Bruce and next to you. "Talons, not zombies."

You hummed. "So this is the Court of Owls?" You glanced back at Bruce.

"The court has decided to come out of retirement." Bruce frowned. You stepped over a few bodies of Mario's guards. You knew them, but you didn't let yourself feel anything yet.

Jason touched your hand. You allowed yourself to take his hand for a moment before pulling away at doorway to Mario's office.

Penguin was stirring from in front of Mario's desk. Batman went over to him and dragged him up onto the chair.

You went over to Mario's secret door. It was untouched. "Mario is still here," you said.

Jason followed you. "He in a secret room or something?"

"Safe room. Left me out here to defend him." You bit your lip when Jason's head snapped to you. "Stop it."

"Were you his bodyguard?" Jason's shoulder tensed. "Or more?"

You gagged. "No, god. Don't even suggest it." You slapped his arm.

The Penguin squawked awake, blubbering as Bruce interrogated him.

"What am I supposed to think, (Y/N)? You walked out, said you needed space, but then disappeared for six months," Jason growled.

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. "Now you know what I was thinking when you ran off with Starfire, huh?"

Jason flinched. It didn't feel as satisfying as you wished it did.

You knocked on the hidden door. "Mr. Falcone, it's (Y/N). It's safe to come out."

"Starfire isn't really my ex. We just slept together once," Jason grumbled. You rolled your eyes. He was making the same excuses he did six months ago. Nothing changed.

"Doesn't help your case." You punched his arm to shut him up.

Mario opened the door. He smiled when he saw you, but froze at the sight of Red Hood.

A unmanly shriek came out of Mario. He tried to close the door, but Jason grabbed the corner and ripped it open.

Mario backed into his safe room, eyes wide with terror. Jason followed him in. "(Y/N), did you call this thug? I'll have you burned alive." Mario spat, grabbing a gun and aiming it toward Jason. Jason kept walking toward him unbothered.

"I didn't call him specifically." You leaned against the doorway. The adrenaline was wearing off. Your hands trembled as everything sunk in. "By the way, I quit."

Mario shot Jason in the chest, but it bounced off his armor. You covered your ears. The gun shots echoed loudly in the small room.

Jason knocked the gun out of his hand and picked him up by the front of his shirt. He held him up until his feet were dangling off the ground.

You couldn't help feeling warm from seeing Jason was still as strong as ever.

"You don't threatened her." Jason's voice was colder than ice. "Forget her name, forget her face. She was never in your disgusting presence, do you understand?" Jason brought Mario's face close to his helmet. "Do you?"

"Yes." Mario shook like a leaf. You swore you saw the front of his pants darken.

A hand touched your shoulder. Bruce moved you out of the room. "Watch the Penguin. I want to have a word with Mr. Falcone."

You snorted, stepping out to find the Penguin unconscious on the floor. "What a rough day for you." You nudged his side with your toe as Mario screamed from his safe room. "A rough day for all of us."

You sat down in the chair and crossed your arms. Taking a shaky breath, you tried to keep your emotions locked up, but tears still filled your eyes anyway.

***

"Red Hood, wait outside," Bruce ordered. Jason dropped Mario. Mario crumbled to the floor, blubbering.

"Fine." Jason stomped out. He saw the Penguin unconsciousness on the floor. Worrying his lip, he saw the top of your head as you sat in an armchair facing away from him.

A sniffle came from you. Jason's stomach dropped.

He moved to your side and knelt beside the chair. You recoiled, quickly wiping your face with your hands.

His heart fell slightly. "You okay?"

"I'm tired." You sighed, "This was...a lot."

Jason nodded. He reached out and laid his hand on your knee. You relaxed under his touch. A little hope blossomed in his heart.

Even though he was madder than heck to know you were working for Bruce for six months. That Bruce didn't tell him and you didn't try to contact him at all. That you were with Falcone this whole time.

He still wanted you home. Still wanted you to be his wife, partner in life and beyond.

Bruce stomped out of the safe room. "We need to go. The police are on their way." You jumped up at the sound of his voice. Jason slowly stood, grabbing your hand. You let him.

"I should wait here for the cops," you said softly. Your hand trembled in his.

"Not necessary." Bruce pursed his lips. "I'll give a copy of your video recording to Gordon. It will be enough."

Jason squeezed your hand. "I'm taking her home." He stared at Bruce, daring him to say something.

You looked at him slightly surprised. "Our home?"

"Is there anywhere else, sweetheart?" Jason's voice cracked. He cursed his helmet for hiding what he hoped was the love in his face.

"No." Bruce laid a hand on Jason's shoulder. Jason tensed.

"What do you mean no?" Jason snarled. You squeezed his hand gently.

Bruce stepped closer. "It's best if (Y/N) is kept somewhere safe since she is a witness. You remember what the court does to witnesses." Jason pulled you into his side suddenly, his arm around your waist. You gasped, but relaxed into him.

"Our place is safe." Jason bit his lip. He tried not to think about you being pinned to a wall by Talons, bleeding to death as you screamed his name. A lump formed in his throat.

"It is, but you know the cave is safer." Bruce's lips pursed. "(Y/N) needs to be cleared for any trackers as well."

"He's right." Your voice shook. Jason studied you, noting your trembling lips, widening of your eyes, a sickly pallor overtaking your cheeks.

Jason swallowed hard. "Fine, but I'll take her."

Bruce nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less. Take the batmobile." He pressed the remote key to the batmobile into Jason's free hand. Jason looked at it before closing his fingers around it.

Jason started to lead you from the room, but you stopped. You pulled away from him. His arm felt empty without you. "Please make sure Mia is safe. She's the maid, she doesn't know anything,"

"She will be safe." Bruce rested his hand on your shoulder. You and Bruce shared a long look. Jason's stomach tightened at the sight. When had you and Bruce became so close? "Now go."

You nodded, quickly using your sleeve to wipe your face. Jason stepped toward you at the sight. You took a deep breath. "(Y/N)," Jason whispered, reaching out to you.

You flinched. "Not now." Brushing his arm away, you walk past him and out the door.

Jason watched you go with a sigh before quickly following you.

"Good luck," Bruce said so softly that Jason almost missed it. It was only the threat of leaving you alone that stopped him from going back in and unleashing his rage onto Bruce.

***

"Thank you, Alfred." You gave him a hug, even though you were only wearing a oversized robe. It did little to protect you from chill of the batcave, but you had to toss your clothes after going through several scans and a bug sweep.

"You're welcome, Miss (Y/N). It is good to have you home." Alfred patted your back before pulling away to look you in the eye. "Now head upstairs. I have clothes waiting in Master Jason's old room." You frowned slightly, but Alfred held up a hand. "And Master Jason knows not to enter unless you give him permission."

You smiled at the thought of Jason being locked out of his old room. "Thank you again." You turned and headed upstairs.

Bruce's study still looked the same. You paused at Bruce's desk as the grandfather clock door swung closed behind you.

The gold frame caught your eye. You traced it with one finger, smiling sadly. It was you and Jason on your wedding day. You were wearing a nice dress you got from Walmart, he in jeans and a button down.

That day had been magical. The beach was warm, sand soft under your feet. Jason had a boyish grin through the whole ceremony.

You shook your head. No point staying in the past now. You left Bruce's study and made your way upstairs.

The manor was quiet. You closed your eyes to enjoy the peace, the safety.

A lump formed in your throat as you remembered the blood, the bodies of people you gotten to know over six months.

Tears burned in your eyes. "Damn it." You covered your face and hurried to Jason's old room.

The room smelled of lemon and fresh laundry. You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar ACDC poster on the wall, the red comforter on the king sized bed. An old pair of pajamas was folded neatly on the bed.

You picked up the pjs and headed into the bathroom.

Turning the water as hot as it could go, you waited to let the steam fill the room before you let yourself grieve.

***

Jason carefully balanced the tray he prepared with one hand and knocked on door with the other. Steam rose from the mug of tea and bowl of soup he had made for you.

He hoped you would accept them. That you would let him in.

A long moment of silence followed his knock. "Come in," you said weakly. He heard the roughness of your voice. His heart ached at the thought you had been crying.

Jason turned the knob and slowly opened the door. You were sitting on the bed, towel draped over your head and his old pjs on. Warmth flooded his gut at the sight.

"I brought you something to eat and drink." He walked past you and set the tray on the side table. You pulled off the towel at his voice, staring at him with a calculated gaze. Your eyes were swollen and red.

"Thanks." Your gaze dropped to his body. Jason couldn't stop himself from blushing. "Did you lose weight?"

"Haven't been eating as much." Jason turned away. He went to stand by the window, looking out at the dark gardens below.

You hummed. He heard you sip from the mug of tea. The silence that fell was thick. Jason almost couldn't breathe.

"I see you are wearing your ring," you whispered.

"And you aren't wearing yours." Jason spun to face you. You cupped the mug in your hands, staring down into it.

"I was undercover, Jason. I couldn't have a wedding ring." You reached for your neck. Jason blinked when you pulled out a simple gold chain necklace with the ring attached. "But I had it on me."

Jason's voice caught in his throat. "Why did you go undercover and not tell me?"

You sighed. "It was only supposed to be for a few weeks. Mario Falcone was doing business in Italy. I came to Bruce and asked him if I could get away, he offered the job."

Jason sank onto the bed next to you, but left a decent distance between you and him. A distance that honestly hurt. "And it turned into six months?"

"I was working as a waitress at a cafe Mario was frequenting there. There was an attempt on his life. I saved him, he hired me on the spot." You sipped your tea. "I was still angry with you, so I took him up on it."

Jason leaned forward on his knees. "So you were being petty? Disappearing because I left you? At least I left you a fucking note."

"You left me a note saying you'll be gone for months in space with Kori." You narrowed your eyes. Jason scowled back at you. "On our anniversary."

"It wasn't our anniversary." Jason stood up and paced in front of you.

"Oh, right. It was the day before." Sarcasm slipped into your tone.

Something snapped inside Jason. "Nothing happened between me and Starfire! We slept together once a long time ago!"

"That's not even the point!" You set your mug back on the tray.

"Then what's the point, (Y/N)?!" Jason threw his arms in the air.

You grabbed a pillow from the bed and threw it at him. Jason caught it easily. "You idiot! Maybe the point was that you didn't tell me in person?! That you didn't even discuss it with me! I'm your wife and you ran off to space without even bothering to check with me!" Tears filled your eyes.

"Fine, it was a mistake not to talk to you about it!" Jason threw the pillow back onto the bed. "But you don't get to just disappear on me! What happens if you died while you were with that bastard Falcone?! You would do that to me?! Leave me to find out from Bruce that you died on his mission!"

"Like you couldn't have died in space and did the same to me! At least I was on earth!" You straightened your shoulders.

Jason towered over you. You glared back at him.

The red faded from his vision. He dropped his shoulders, taking a step away from you. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

You sighed and turned away from him. "We're just going in circles."

Jason studied your back. He closed his eyes and took a soothing slow breath.

Alfred told him once after he started dating you that relationships sometimes meant swallowing your pride. Letting go to move on.

He also said sometimes an apology can fix more than you think.

"I'm sorry." The words left Jason's lips freely. "I messed up. You were right. I should have talked to you about going to space. Even if it wasn't with Kori, I should have discussed it with you."

You peeked over your shoulder at him. "I'm sorry too. I should have gotten a message to you. Let you know where I was and that I was as safe as I could be."

"You shouldn't have left in the first place. How were we supposed to work it out if you weren't here?" Jason grumbled, smiling when you let out a little laugh.

"I guess we're both to blame." You bit your lip. A moment of silence passed between you.

Jason wanted to ask you to come home, be his wife again...but what if that wasn't what you wanted? Maybe you didn't want him anymore? He rocked on his ankles.

"What should we do now?" you asked softly, eyes on the floor.

Jason put his hands in his pockets. "I don't know."

You pursed your lips and sank down onto the edge of the bed. "I don't want to give up on us."

Jason dropped to his knees as if you stole the air out of him. "Sweetheart, I don't want that either." He shuffled until he was knelt in front of you. You took his hands. He frowned at how cold you were, trying to rub warmth into them. "I love you. Always have, always will."

You looked at him with a glimmer of a smile on your lips. "I love you too."

Jason leaned forward. You met him halfway. The kiss shattered any resentment or anger Jason had left inside him. He could only think that you were here, you loved him, you wanted him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck. Jason picked you up, chuckling when you gasped in surprise. He kissed you again as he laid down on the bed with you.

***

You woke to the late afternoon sun shining through the window. Stretching, you felt Jason's callused hand on your bare hip. He squeezed gently before sliding his hand up around your waist to pull you back into him.

He was warm, a human furnace. You rolled over, opening your eyes to take him in.

Jason had dark circles under his eyes, his face thinner than it was before you left. However, he was still the same. You reached up to trace his lips with your thumb.

He mumbled in his sleep. You leaned forward to steal a quick kiss. Jason's eyes opened the moment your lips touched his. He rolled over, pulling you halfway onto his chest.

You laughed, grinning down at him. "Morning, handsome."

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Jason smirked back at you. His fingertips tickled your back slightly. "God, I missed you."

"I missed you too." You rested your chin on his chest, watching him. Jason's hand moved to the back of your neck. You blinked when you felt them touch the clasp of your necklace. "What are you doing?"

Jason undid the clasp and pulled your necklace off. Your wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight. "I want to put your ring back on your finger where it belongs."

Your heart melted. "Okay." You watched him slid the ring off the chain and take your hand. He slipped it on your finger. "I remember you missed my finger a few times during the ceremony."

"Because I was too busy looking at you." Jason sighed, holding up your hand to study your ring. "Beautiful."

Your face burned slightly. "Bruce has the photo on his desk."

Jason hummed. "How did he get a picture?"

"Must have made a copy of the one we gave Alfred." You closed your eyes, turning your head so your ear was pressed against his skin. His heartbeat soothing some of the worry in your belly.

Jason laid a hand in your hair. "Can we promise that if either one of us has to leave for a long mission, that we'll take the other with?"

You opened one eye to look at him. His jaw firm. "You're serious?"

"I am." He looked at you without wavering.

"Okay." You smiled, opening your other eye. "But I doubt I'll go undercover again. It sucked."

Jason hummed. "And space sucked. All the food was terrible and all the alien girls wanted to fuck me, but I told them I was married to the most beautiful woman in the universe who would kicked their asses if they laid a hand on me."

You snorted, kissing his chest. "Charmer." You sobered when you thought about last night. "What are we going to do about the Court of Owls?"

"Well..." Jason groaned, pulling you fully on top of him. You rolled your eyes when you felt how excited he was. "Right now, I think we should celebrate being together."

"You mean celebrate again?" You raised an eyebrow, sitting up as you straddled his hips.

"And maybe again afterward? If you're willing?" Jason smirked, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then once we're completely done celebrating, we can see what intel they found last night."

You couldn't stop yourself from grinning back at him. "Fine." You leaned down to kiss his lips. "I love you."

"And I love you." Jason suddenly flipping you so he was on top. You laughed before you lost yourselves in each other.

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

Words: 2577

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt (this is will make sense if you read it), probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

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IF THERE IS A WANT FOR A PART 2, I WILL DO ONE, IF NOT, THEN THIS STAYS AS A ONE-SHOT!

I mention Y/N goes to a church to pray, it is described more as a Christian or Catholic one (I really don't know the difference and I apologize) as she lights a candle before she prays. If you wish to skip that part, it starts with "Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral." and ends with "Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out.". I do also mention that the reader themselves aren't very religious (but grew up with it so reverted back to old practices to see if it helped)

Alfred is also dead in this (don't ask why he just is) so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

 I feel like I should mention:

Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

7:25 AM

The kids watched as Y/N was silent as she put the plate down in front of Bruce's empty seat. They all noted how fake her smile looked as she looked up at them. "Alright, I will see you kids later!"

They all watched as she walked out of the dining room and once they knew she was out of earshot, they started talking.

"Did she eat anything?"

It was Jason, he had been the last down (well...outside of Tim) so he only saw her putting the plates down and ushering them to eat.

Dick shook his head, he had seen her the entire time she made breakfast. Fully clothed, which was unusual as she usually just made breakfast in her pajamas with her hair occasionally brushed. But not today. Today her hair was done, makeup was on, she was dressed as if she was working.

But everyone in that house knew she was still off after what happened, even though it had been 3 months since the incident.

Damian flicked at his food, "Ummi was supposed to take me to school today."

Dick smiled at Damian, "I can, Dami. Mom is just...preoccupied."

Damian hmphed and continued to play with his food. Dick was concerned for his younger brother. He knew that while he himself was close with the woman he had allowed to become his mother, Damian was so much more as she was really the only person who never got mad at him or made fun of him when he didn't understand something.

Jason abruptly stood, "Since mom isn't here, I'm just gonna go."

Dick raised a brow, "Really Jason? You're just gonna leave after--"

"Hey, we've been over this before Dick. I come because mom asks me to." He shrugged as he put his jacket on, "Plus, I'm going to follow her."

Stephanie snorted, "She'll kill you when she catches you."

"If she catches me. If."

Steph hummed, "My bets are on she will. Y/N is always on the lookout, especially after..." She faded and looked down, regret piling up inside her as she thought of what she was about to say.

"Either way, tell us what you find Jason."

He nodded to Dick's request before heading out the side door in the kitchen. Dick tapped his hand on the table for a minute before speaking; "I'm gonna go check on dad, Damian go get everything ready and I'll meet you at the entryway, alright?"

The eldest stood, placing a gentle hand on the youngest shoulder before heading to the stairs. Dick was concerned. He had never seen his mother so...shut off. Pretending like everything was alright even though everyone who saw her could tell that she was so close to jumping off of a bridge.

The closest that he had seen her to this was back when Jason died and she broke up with Bruce. But even then, she didn't avoid things that she had already planned. Even then, she stayed committed to things.

Plus, Dick knew she had no plans today. Well...no plans except for the fact that beforehand this would have been her due date. And he knew that that was most likely what had off-set her so badly.

Dick didn't even knock before opening the door to Bruce's study. He was even speaking before his father even looked up from his computer. "Have you talked to mom?"

Bruce raised a brow, "What?"

"Mom." Dick crossed his arms, "When was the last time you and her had a real conversation?"

Bruce shrugged, "I'm not sure." He looked at Dick oddly, "What are you going on about?"

Dick let out a hard sigh, "You two are married, it is your job to take care of her. Goddammit Bruce!" He threw his hands up in anger, "You know what? Nevermind, I'm not...I'm not even going to try."

He angrily turned and walked out of the room. He didn't even understand why he even thought that talking to Bruce would help. He just walked down the stairs and remembered his promise to get Damian to school. Trying to hide the anxiety he had that he didn't know what exactly his mom was doing.

--------

9:09 AM

Jason watched Y/N walk out of the convenience store all the way in Blüdhaven. From where he was, he couldn't see what she had bought, but the moment he saw her go into the store, he had messaged Tim to watch her bank account. To watch what she was purchasing. Something felt...off as he watched her.

Jason knew that after the...accident, Y/N had been hard to reach. To talk to. He knew that she and Bruce hadn't been sleeping in the same bed since that argument he had accidently heard them having around 3 weeks after everything happened. So 4 weeks ago.

Granted...from what he had heard, it wasn't even a fight that they had had. Mostly just words being thrown at the other. Words that Jason never thought that he would hear either one say to the other. Words that he never told any of his siblings that he heard. All out of fear that one of them would panic. And while sure, he had a disdain for Tim and Damian, that didn't mean he would ever let either of them know what he had heard.

Jason wasn't sure how long he had been watching her just sit in the car before Tim finally texted him a list of what Y/N had bought in the past week. And considering Jason had seen her previous bank records for a week, it was a sure red mark with how short it was.

Tim

In the past week she's gotten a lot of sleeping pills. That's basically all that she has gotten. That plus energy and pain pills. Duke is thinking she's self-medicating again

Jason sighed as he pocketed his phone when he saw his mom driving out of the parking lot. He kept a safe distance behind her as he followed her on her drive back to Gotham.

--------

12:15 PM

Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral. Trying not to make a misstep and fall as well as trying not to draw attention to herself. She closed the umbrella over her head as she walked in. Placing it in the small holder, she brushed the front of her outfit as her heels clicked on the ground when she walked down the long hall.

Last time she was there was for her mothers funeral last year. Last time she had walked up and grabbed the larger candle to dip down and light the smaller one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kneeled, words swimming through her head and mumbling off her lips.

She herself was never very religious, but having grown up that way, she wondered if praying like she did as a child would work. Praying that things would get better and that she would get better.

She shakily did the cross on her before standing and wiping the tears that had silently fallen away from her cheeks. She turned and started to make her way out of the church when she heard a voice call out her name:

"Mrs. Wayne! We were not expecting you here today, is everything alright?"

Y/N slowly turned to face one of the Nuns, a small, fake, smile on her face. "Oh yes, everything is alright Sister. Just came here to pray for a moment. I haven't in such a long time."

The nun nodded, "Very well, I hope the Good Lord hears your prayer and makes it happen."

Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out. She grabbed her umbrella before opening the door and walking out. She practically ran back to her car, wanting to get in before anyone saw her out.

But Cass and Steph did. They watched her speed back to her car as they sat in the cafe across the way. Stephanie shook her head, "She never goes there. Especially not since her mothers deaths."

Cass nodded as Steph continued; "Something is seriously going on with Y/N. Maybe something else has happened that we don't know."

"She's been deteriorating for the past 4 weeks."

Steph raised a bow and inquired, "4 weeks?" Cass nodded, "Huh...weird, that's around a week after she came home from the hospital." She grabbed her phone and started typing in the groupchat that only held the kids (Damian not included):

Steph

when did Bruce disappear for a few days after Y/N came home?"

It didn't take long for Tim to respond

logs say he left 35 hours after she got home and came back 83 hours later why?

Cass

She's been slowly getting worse sense then

Jason

I overheard them arguing around 3 weeks after everything happened and I know they haven't been sleeping in the same room since then. And I'm not sure how important this is; but Tim checked her bank account and she bought different pills so me, him, and Duke think she's medicating again. Or that she's going to start again.

Cass and Steph looked at each other, concern and worry was on their faces as they read Jason's last message. Something started unnerving them as they thought of the things she could possibly do if she was going to start medicating again.

----

3:25 PM

Y/N looked at her body in the mirror. Her hands came to lay on her stomach. Just like she did before. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at her flatter stomach. She breathed shakily as her hands fell down to her sides.

Why?

Was all she ever asked.

Why me? Why did this happen to me?

She was so confused. She had always been good. Done everything to be a good person. But yet she still had that happen to her. Was she just not meant to be a mother?

Of course...she was one. She was a mother to 4 amazing boys and 1 beautiful girl. But still...it was different. Yes, those 5 children were hers, but that one. That singular one that she had carried for nearly 7 months had meant so much to her. Especially after being told time and time again it wouldn't happen.

It wasn't even the first time it had happened. She had had miscarriages before...but that wasn't what it was this time. The kidnapping. Bruce and the kids had found her after 2 days. The emergency c-section to save the baby.

But she knew. Of course she knew. She knew it had died.

Her baby girl. She had died before she even got the chance to live.

Y/N shakily breathed as she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. She had thought it was the pain medication. But it hadn't been.

Sleeping meds.

Ever since it happened she had hardly been able to sleep. Nightmares of what happened still plagued her mind. Bruce yelling at her still echoed in her brain. Those...twisted words he said echoed inside of her.

She had popped a few in her mouth before dry-swallowing them and getting into the bath she had started earlier. The hot water felt like it was searing her skin, but she didn't care. She wondered if maybe she did this enough, whoever was above would forgive her of her sins and let her keep a pregnancy.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the water before it became difficult to keep her head above water. Her body just felt so heavy. She wondered what pain meds she had grabbed at the store. She couldn’t remember them making her feel this way before. After a few moments of struggling to keep her head up, she felt her body sink down and under the water. But even as she felt water rush into her nose and fill her lungs, she couldn't bring herself to move and get out.

She just accepted her fate.

----

3:30 PM

Bruce sat in his office, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. Something was telling him to check on Y/N. See if she was alright. He knew she had returned around 20 minutes ago, the security cameras had caught her walking in.

He carefully stood from his desk and walked out of his office. He walked down the oddly quiet halls of the manor. A small feeling of pain and guilt started to eat at him as he got closer to the guest room she had been staying in. He knew she was struggling. He knew that she needed him today. But he just...couldn't.

He was selfish. He knew this.

He knew he was so goddamn selfish. Caring about his own feelings rather than helping his wife. She had been the one to physically go through everything. She had been the one to bear that trauma.

He had been so incredibly selfish since she had come home from the hospital. He had even begun to wonder why she even stayed in the manor.

But as he opened the door to the guest room, unrest settled inside him as he saw she wasn't there but the bathroom door was open. It was silent. He had known his wife long enough to know she never was silent in the bathroom. She almost always had music playing.

He pushed the bedroom door further open as he walked further in. Anxiety started to reach a breaking point as he walked into the bathroom.

And time felt like it moved in slow-motion as he saw her state. Her knees bent out of the water, her head under. He saw the three bottles of pills on the counter. He saw the open one read sleep on them. He ran over to the tub, grabbing under her arms and pulling her out.

He bent down, trying to listen for a heartbeat. He felt like his own heart stopped as he heard nothing. Not even a faint thump of one. He quickly moved to her side and started CPR.

Everything still felt like it was moving slower than it was as he pushed down on her sternum. Tears gathered in his eyes as he repeatedly slammed down onto her. As he breathed into her mouth. He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally had gotten the CPR to work. She began to cough profusely, water spluttering everywhere. He sobbed as he heard her shallow breaths break through the air.

He heard the noise of Dick's voice breaking. "Mom?"

He looked at him, seeing both him and Damian staring at the scene in front of them. Staring as their father held their mother in his arms. As tears fell from his eyes, he pleaded for them to call 911.

It was with shaky hands that Dick did it. His words sounded choked back, he kept stuttering. Trying to say what he was supposed to but his mind was running at a million miles and and half a mile a second at the same time. Everything felt fuzzy and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

know its for the better

Words: 2733

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

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Part 2 for "Love Thorns All Over This Rose"

I decided to make this be longer than just two part, so this'll be a sort of mini-series

I just want to leave another TW here: if you have ever suffered through a miscarriage or any type of child loss, please proceed with caution. I do heavily talk about how Y/N feels after suffering through that and do talk about her feeling like a failure of a woman and other things. I just want everyone to know that if you feel triggered by that, I apologize and I don't want anyone to be upset over what I wrote

I also want to say that I personally have never gone through. What I write in this, is purely based off of what I have read in other fics or stories as well as seen people talk online. I am trying not to offend anyone and if I do in any of the part that I talk about those things; I severely apologize.

Reminder that Alfred is dead in this so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here still isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

Reminder that Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

Also a reminder that I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

3 Months Ago

Y/N tightened her grip around her purse, the people were following her too closely. She knew this. The light was still out, she kept reminding her that. Kept telling herself that no one would try to kidnap her in broad daylight.

But oh how wrong she was.

She should have known better. She grew up in Gotham. She should have known better.

----

Now

Three days had passed since everything happened. Bruce had refused to leave the hospital. He wondered if it was from guilt of not being there for her other times. Or if he was just filling in his obligation as a husband. Or maybe...maybe Dick was right and he was just doing all he could to preserve his image.

But none of that mattered. Bruce was staying until she woke up. Because she had to wake up. He had to show her that he still cared. That he still loved her. That he knows...he knows how much of a horrible person he has been to her for the past month.

He had to make sure she knew that he regretted it. Every word he said to her that night.

But every sign scared him. They had already had to resuscitate her since getting here. The tube was stuck down her throat, helping her to breathe. Nurses looking at him with pity, making him feel foolish for holding out hope that she would be okay. With every look that they gave him, there was a sort of emptiness and despair settling into his stomach.

Almost as if he agreed with them.

But he couldn't. He couldn't be agreeing with them. It wouldn't be useless holding out hope that she would be okay.

He ran his thumb over her palm, his eyes glancing up her arm and body until they landed on the raised skin on her collarbone. His hand that wasn't holding hers, come up to run over it. One of the many reminders of what happened 3 months ago.

----

3 Months Ago

Y/N woke up groggily. Her head was pounding and she felt like she had been dropped from a tall building. She blinked, trying to see something, anything, but as her eyes opened, she wished she could go back to seeing nothing.

She was sure that she was in the sewers. The damp and musky smell with the sound of water dripping down the old stone walls and floors around her made her all too aware of where she was. She tried swallowed any saliva, but her mouth was dry. Tears pricked her eyes from pain as she carefully pushed herself up.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she gingerly touched her stomach. Involuntarily, her own body flinched back from her touch. She felt her air catch in her throat as she felt nothing moving. In the past month or so, her baby had been moving all the time, leading her on to many sleepless nights.

Deep down, she knew. She knew that her baby was dead. And she knew that there was nothing to be done about it.

She jumped back as she heard the sound of shoes pounding against the damp stones. She tried to move away from the only place that someone could come from, but with her hands and legs being tied together, it was harder than expected. She slipped slightly, her side hitting the stone hard.

Three men, with honestly average builds, stalked into the area. She breathed raggedly as she watched them continue towards her. She tried to push away as one grabbed her arm and forcibly pulled her up, a yelp of surprise and pain left her mouth as she was pulled to her feet.

These three men were normal. They weren't some goons or some chemically induced maniacs. They were normal.

And maybe that scared her more.

One of the men, who she assumed was the leader, walked up to her, knife raised. Her eyes darted between him, his associates, and the knife. Any self-defense training that Bruce had taught her, flew out the window as she stood before these men.

"When the situation arises, you'll remember what to do."

That was what Bruce had always told her. But here she was. In the situation and nothing was showing up in her mind as what she was supposed to do.

She leaned back as the guy leaned in but the one with the grip on her arm moved one of his hands to hold her head and make her look at him. She shook as she felt the knife against her collarbone.

A small whimper of pain left her mouth as she felt the knife push deeper, deep enough that it would scar over, before she was pushed back to the ground. The one with the knife gave her a sadistic smile before hoarsely whispering, "We're going to make sure Bruce Wayne finds you dead."

She stared in near terror as she held her hand over where they had sliced and watched as they left just as quickly as they had came.

----

Now

Jason stood in a corner away from Y/N's body. Even with the tube gone, she still didn't wake up. Although she had made some developments...some in the past 8 days that she had been in here and everyone had convinced Bruce to go home and get some proper sleep. So now here Jason was, standing in a room where the woman he had allowed to become his mom was laying still.

But he stayed away from her body.

Something he didn't say often was just how scared he can get. He remembers each time he's been absolutely terrified. When Bruce, well Batman, caught him stealing the wheels to the Batmobile. When he was stuck in that warehouse and Bruce didn't make it in time. When he saw Y/N again for the first time since his "death" and he thought that she would hate him for what he had done. When she was taken. Those words he heard Bruce hurling at Y/N.

And right now.

Jason was keeping his composure, but inside, he was a trembling and terrified child. A kid who just needed to know his mom was going to be alright.

Inside, he knew exactly how Damian was feeling.

But as he stared at her body, his mind couldn't stop drifting, remembering what he had heard that night 4 weeks ago. All he could do was wonder what would have happened if maybe, just maybe, he had gotten angry at Bruce for what he heard.

----

4 Weeks Ago

It was nearly 2 AM when Jason was going to sneak out of the Manor. Technically, it was easy to do, well...it was once he got passed Bruce and Y/N's room. So, he was as silent as he could be as he passed by. But he stopped in his tracks as he heard the voices from behind the cracked door.

Now, Jason wouldn't say he was noisy. But don't all kids stop and listen whenever they hear their parents arguing?

But they weren't arguing. No. He had heard that before. This wasn't it. This was different.

And it scared him.

He stood by the door as Bruce's voice got louder: "--Well I'm sorry that I'm not here anymore Y/N! But can you fucking blame me?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her voice was low, warning him to think before he spoke.

"You didn't pay attention and got taken. You and your inability to pay attention to your surroundings got our baby killed."

She sucked in a breath, "You think I don't blame myself already, Bruce? Do you think that I don't wonder what would have happened if I just hadn't gone out that day?"

"Please, this doesn't affect you. You're perfectly fucking fine."

"Because I have to be!" She nearly screamed, "One of us has to be a parent to everyone else in this home and we both know it won't be you!"

"They aren't even your kids, Y/N, why do you--"

A loud slap echoed and Jason's hand went over his mouth as he continued to listen.

"Those kids are mine. I am the one who helped raise them. I am the one who has made sacrifices for them! You haven't done shit for them, ever." She let out a choked back laugh, "All I did was ask for you to be here with me, to understand what I am feeling and going through. But of course, you don't understand anything."

"I understand that you killed our baby."

"No Bruce. Those men came after me to hurt you. You are the reason I was taken and lost our baby. But sure," Her voice started to break, "Go on. Blame me. I'm used to you doing that anyways.

----

Now

Jason breathed shakily as he grabbed his helmet and stormed out of the room. He knew Dick would be there soon with Damian anyways and he had to get out of there.

--------

Dick watched as Damian laid curled into Y/N's side. Bruce was, miraculously, still sleeping as he and Damian snuck out to the hospital. He didn't do it much for himself as he did it for Damian, he knew that the kid had a sort of...guilt that he could have done something.

Not that Dick could say anything against that. He felt guilty as well.

Y/N was his mom. He was the oldest son. He should have protected her, that was his job. Dick was the protector. He was always supposed to protect everyone. Y/N and even Bruce included. He already had been in this situation before. The immense guilt of failing to protect Y/N.

He remembers what he thought that first time he was here. Remembers the guilt of already failing to keep Alfred alive and not wanting to fail Y/N.

----

3 Months Ago

Dick ran through the sewers, trying to find Y/N. Two days had passed since she had gone missing. All of them had lost sleep trying to find her and now they were searching the sewers for where she could be. He felt like a failure, a bad kid, all because he didn't

He stopped in his tracks as he heard her labored breathing. He turned in the direction that he heard the breathing, his own getting caught in his throat when he saw her laying in the fetal position.

"Mom." He breathed out, rushing to kneel by her side. He gently grabbed her face and looked at her, tears pooling in his eyes. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He failed. Guilt filling with him. Guilt of failing Alfred and now her.

He was a failure and he knew that.

"You-you're not a--"

----

Now

"--A failure."

He stopped and looked at Y/N, his eyes wide. "Mom?"

Her head was turned to the side, a small look of gentle concern on her face. "You're not a failure Dick." She whispered through a hoarse voice, "You didn't fail anyone. Especially not me."

But he shook his head. He did. Not once. But twice. First being after she was taken and now this.

"Dick, stop that. The only person here that failed was me."

He got up and angrily wiped the tears from his eyes, "But I-I just...you never--"

Her hand shakily came up to touch his face, "I'm the one who failed sugar. I should've..."

She stopped, hand leaving his to rub her neck. Out of instinct of all the times waking up from injuries, he grabbed her the bottle of water he had grabbed earlier. Unscrewing the lid, he gently brought it to her lips and she quickly took a gulp of it.

After a moment, she gently held his wrist. "Dick, look at me and believe me when I tell you that it's not your fault. You did nothing wrong." Her grip tighten on his wrist for a moment, "You or your siblings." She glanced over at Damian, her arm wrapped around the kid who was now sleeping. "You all had nothing that you could do." She looked back at him, "Everything that happened, that I did, was nothing to do with you kids. It um...it--"

"Has to do with dad?"

She nodded silently before breathing shakily, "I know Jason heard what Bruce and I said. Ahd I um...I assume that--"

He stopped her, his head shaking. "He didn't tell us anything."

"Oh." She sucked in a breath, "Let's just say, both your father and I say things that we shouldn't have. Not saying they weren't truthful...that deep down we didn't mean each and every word that passed our lips...but you kids aren't to blame."

Dick swallowed hard, "Why did you do it mom?"

Her hand fell from his wrist and she looked away, out to the window. "You don't understand how I felt after everything--"

----

6 Weeks Ago

Y/N silently stared out the window. Her hands mindlessly moving up and down her now flatter stomach. She felt disgusting and like a failure. A failure as a wife and as a mother and...as a woman. She was hurting. Not physically, sure her entire body was in pain, but mentally, she was in much more pain.

Her head snapped as she heard the door open. She saw Bruce standing at the door, an almost uncomfortable look on his face. She shakily looked away, ashamed to even look at him.

She heard his almost scoff, "Y/N, come on. You need to talk about it."

She looked at him slightly before whispering with a strained voice, "So do you."

"Y/N, I didn't...nevermind." She looked away again as he walked further in, "Doctors said that you'll be able to leave soon. By the end of the week at most."

She nodded, "Alright." Her voice nearly numb and void of emotion. She turned her head to him, "You always gonna hate me now?"

Bruce sighed, "I don't...I don't hate you."

"Why not?" Her words started to lace with their own venom, "I lost our baby. Because I'm such a..."

He shook his head, "Don't finish that sentence. You are not a failure baby. It wasn't your fault. None of what happened was your fault. You weren't gonna know that someone was going to come after you.

----

Now

"Y/N?" She felt herself freeze when she heard the voice. She kept her eyes everywhere but at the door. She didn't want to see him. Not here. Not now. "Dick can you--"

"Mom doesn't want to see you."

"Dick you don't--"

"Dick it's okay." She whispered, looking at her oldest. "Take Damian down to the food court, force him to eat some junk."

"Mom--"

"Go." She whispered before he silently nodded and grabbed the younger boy, starting to carry him out of the room. She weakly gripped the blanket, "Why are you here?"

"Can I not visit my wife."

She shook her head, "I am not your wife, Bruce." She looked at him angrily, "You're the one who served the fucking papers."

"And I can't--"

"Bruce, you told me that the only reason you were letting me stay in the manor was for the kids. Was so that Damian didn't have to losing another person." She breathed angrily, "You stopped loving me, not the other way around. You're only here to keep up appearances that you are a loving and devoted husband." She leaned forward in his direction, "But I know exactly what you are."

"And what's that?" He challenged.

"A selfish coward who only cares for himself and his image."

He shook his head, "I'm sorry that I made you think so lowly of me."

Tears burned her eyes, "Get out."

"Y/N--"

"Get out, Bruce. Now."

He stood and started for the door, momentarily stopping to look at her. "I still love you, I know what I did and what I said shows otherwise, but all I ask for is one more chance and I'll prove it to you."

Her lip quivered for a moment before she whispered out, "Tell the nurses I woke up."

Glimmer: Jason Todd x reader

request: Jason Todd x fem!reader who is optimistic, sees good in people and gives him hugs and kisses when he comes from patrol.

****

She never knew it, and even if she did she would totally refuse to believe it, but there was something in her eyes that always made Jason feel better about world and about himself. A bit.

He met Y/N on one of his night patrols and not-so-surprisingly rescued her from a mugger. Typical Gotham occurrence, but unlike any other citizen of this god-forsaken city she did not seem shaken or terrified or even sad.

“How are you so fine with what happened?” instead of taking off the second the robber was dealt with Jason found himself captured by her unusual behavior

“I’m not” she sighed deeply and her e/c orbs focused on him, making him shake inside due to the intensity of the gaze “I’m not all right with how Gotham affects people. That the poor had to go to the great lengths to survive on the streets while crime lords have everything. I’m not fine with the fact that kids here suffer because their parents abandoned them. I hate that GCPD seem helpless when it comes to dealing with all this shit and vigilantes have to take matters in their own hands.”

“So, pretty much you hate Batman?” Jason scoffed, trying to act casually, not showing how touched he was by the mention of kids on the streets. After all, he was one of them many years ago and the memory of what he went through was still hunting him sometimes.

“I never said that!” she laughed. She laughed a few seconds after a traumatic events. “I admire everything he does. But unlike our fierce protector, I’d rather focus on seeing good in people.”

“Good?” Jason scoffed, his helmet muffling the sound a bit “There’s nothing good in this shithole.”

‘Maybe that is your problem, Red. Your aim is to get rid of the crime lords. Arguably by killing them all off….”

“I don’t do that anymore.” He chimed in

“Then hurting them. Injuring them. Making them remember the pain. I’d rather spread the good emotions. Like in the homeless shelter where I volunteer after work. Or at the child center. You should see the smile on those people faces just because you gave them ten minutes of your time. To talk, to actually ask them how they feel, if there’s anything they would like to do. Elders have so many to say, yet no one ever listens. And children, those poor little souls, who did nothing wrong in their life, except for what’s necessary to survive. A hug or a joke is enough to make them cry happy tears.”

“You’re being awfully optimistic, aren’t you?”

“Can’t help being who I am” she smiled so bright, Jason could swear that it lighted up the whole alley “you should try that sometimes, Red Hood. Anyway, sorry for keeping you this long, bet you have another parts of the city to patrol.” Once again her beaming, hopeful, sincere eyes landed on his face (or rather helmet) “thank you for helping me. I know you do not see yourself this way, but what you do matters. The method may be a bit extreme, but still, I appreciate what you did. What you do.”

“I……” Jason stuttered. It was the first time someone actually said something like that to him. Was he really good in her eyes?

“I gotta go.” She shook he head, hair falling all over her face and Jason had to use all his strength to fight the urge to brush those strands of. There was something about this girl…. ”Stay safe, Hood, will you?” she turned around and started walking away, but he called after her, making her stop.

“Can I get your name?!”

“Wonder why that matters to you.” she laughed, but decided in favor of answering “It’s Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”  with a single wave of the hand she was gone, leaving Jason wondering and muttering that single word over and over again.

***

“Hey, Drake. I got a favor to ask.”

“And out of all the people in the world you came to me?” Tim raised an eyebrow “You must be truly desperate, Todd.”

“I can always go and ask Barbara. Bet she’ll deal with the search I need much faster than you. She’s an expert after all.” Jason smirked knowing well enough how the reverse psychology affected Tim.

“Better!? No way!! What do you need?” the younger boy spun around on the chair, now facing the bat computer, fingers hanging over the keyboard, twitching in anticipation.

“I want to find a person. I only got a name, Y/N, possible living location and I know she works at the homeless shelter and kid center. Can you target her?”

“don’t know.” Tim tapped his chin, wondering “Is he a Red Hood’s object of interest or Jason Todd’s one?”

Fuck. There was no good answer to that question and Jason found himself falling right into Tim’s trap. 

“Let’s say a little bit of both.”

“Whatever you say……”

***

Tim was faster than Jason anticipated and with just a few clicks and searches he managed to locate the girl. And just a few minutes later, after breaking some speed limits (Bruce would pay for the tickets obviously) Todd was in front of the building she was spending her evening at.

It’s been a while since Jason seen so many hurt and scared people in one place and that reminded him how much crime actually was in Gotham. He was fighting some part of it, but the rest…. Damn it. The view was just painful. Starting from a few-years old, ending up on the elders, every age group has a representation in this place. And amongst all those citizens he saw Y/N. With messy hair and a smudge of something that seemed like a paint, but was awfully similar to blood she was telling a story to a bunch of kids, one of them placed on her knees. That little dirt on her cheek made Jason shudder. In the depths of his mind he already saw her injured, bleeding in some alley, after being attacked or raped, her optimistic attitude not serving as a shield.  But apparently her positive attitude was not a result of obliviousness and being raised in separation from the bad aspects of life, but rather the opposite. She experienced the sadness and pain everyday while working with those people and yet, remained cheerful. That was….. strangely alluring.

“Hey there.” She put the kid down, noticing him standing in the aisle, looking confused “Are you lost? Are you hurt? Do you need help?” she was so tiny in comparison with a tank Jason was and she wanted to help him. Not even expecting anything in return.  

“No…. I ……”

“Hey, it’s ok.” she reassured, putting a hand on his shoulder and he immediately felt the warmth coming all over his body. “You’re safe here. We can give you any aid you need.”

“I don’t need help. “ Jason shook his head.

“You sure?” she tilted her head “Cause it seems to me like you got a strained muscles, a bruise on the jaw and some cuts on the forearms.”

“You are quite observant, aren’t you?”

“Did my time as a doctor assistant.” She shrugged “never get to finish though”

“Why?”

“Um… you know, typical Gotham stuff. Parents getting shot. No one to help me pay for college…. I had to tend for myself and that required a full time job, not just studying. So I dropped. Became an assistant nurse instead. Shitty job, shitty pay, shitty work hours, but  get to make ends meet.”

“And you still find time to volunteer?”

“Like I said to someone before, I’d rather help people by spreading good. Seriously, can I help you with anything…..?”her voice hanged a bit and it took him a while before realizing she was waiting for hi name.

“I’m Jason. And I …. I think I want to be a volunteer as well.”

***

It’s been three years since then.

Three years in which she was constantly surprising him with her attitude, her smile, her uptake on things.

Three years of her being his rock, getting him through the shittiest, lowest day, never letting him give up or his darkness and shadow consume him. She was his ray of sun on those days when he had no power to push through.

Jason was not the first person to trust people, but somehow she managed to gain it quite quickly. After a few months of acquaintance, shaking because of the emotions (mostly fear) he told her about his alter ego, awaiting abandonment, terrified, judgmental gaze and her leaving him for good.

There was a moment of silence after his confession, two young adults just sitting on the couch opposite of each other. Jason looking down, silent begging for her to not leave him, missing the fact that Y/N’s signature honest gaze were focused on him.

“Jason….” she said quietly, careful not to startle him “Jace, please look at me.” The boy hesitantly raised his head, scared what he might see on the girl’s face “did you think I would leave you?”

“Yes.” He blurted not able to control himself anymore.

“You silly boy.” She leaned forward slightly, reaching for his cheek, not touching yet, since she learned how hard physical contact was for him “Can I?”

“Please….” He mumbled, and once she cupped his face, immediately leaned into the touch. So touch starved, so desperate for her, without even realizing this.

“Listen to me, Jason Todd. I am not going anywhere.”

“You’re not?”

“Of course not.” she whispered “I’m honestly a bit offended you could even think something like that. Do you even know me?”

“I know you see good in place where there is none. And I’m no good. I’m bad news, always have been and….”

“Oh, for crying out loud.” She hissed and not giving a shit about being gentle put her lips on his, the urge being just too strong to hold it anymore. “Sorry….” Just a few seconds later she realized what she did and pulled back, her face turning apologetic. “I didn’t mean to push….”

“Come back here” Jason breathed out, wrapping an arm around her waist and claiming her lips again, this time fully. God, he never knew how much he craved her and how much fear of rejection on her part he had.  “I need you.” he whispered pulling her flush to him “God, I shouldn’t  but I need you so bad.”

“Good thing it’s mutual.” She smiled, brushing a curl from his face and connecting their foreheads

“But….” He tried to say.

“if you start talking about that shit about darkness and everything else I won’t kiss you for a week.”

“Are you threatening the Red Hood, princess?”

“Guess, I am” she laughed, realizing that little fact “is it working?”

“Sure as hell it is.” Jason gasped before closing the gap between them.

***

Y/N was quickly accepted into the Wayne family, turning into a valuable member of the team. And damn, she was good at working with Oracle from the cave. But the most important part of her job (in her own words) was still giving the good vibes. Keeping the batboys (and batgirls) up and running, showing them how much good they were doing and how grateful people were for that.

Jason needed it more than anyone else, still doubting himself and dealing with past trauma, not that anyone blamed him for that. If nothing else, dying and resurrecting definitely have an effect on one’s mentality. And that was precisely why, Y/N would always stay up in the night, waiting for Jay to come back from the patrol to welcome him in the most caring and loving way she could.

“Jace!” she jumped off the couch as soon as she heard him walk thought the door, his helmet and jacket already discarded on the floor. She practically jumped into his arms, wrapping legs and arms around him, tugging her boyfriend tightly, feeling his muscles relax under her touches and caresses.

“Hi, baby….” He sighed deeply feeling her in his arms. The only person that made everything he did worth the effort.

“My hero.” She tugged him even tighter, hands tangling in his hair massaging gently.

“Hero? That’s funny princess. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Grayson? Do you wish that it was someone else in your arms?”

“What are you…..?” she pulled back from him slightly, but his arms kept her in place, familiar smirk forming on his face. “You are incorrigible Todd! Why are you constantly playing with me?”

“Cause you look cute with that surprised Pikachu face” he kissed the top of her nose and she pouted.

“Stop it! It’s my job to kiss you and hug you. You’re tired and hurt. Let me take care of you.” her hand travelled down from his neck and rested on his heart “Please, love. I just want to take all the pain from you. Let me, Jason.” she was practically begging him now, and the fact that he truly had someone who was willing to do that for him was making him melt. Since the words failed him, he just nodded, closing his eyes not to show any vulnerability. Almost three years of being together and it was still hard for him to show her his emotional side. “Open those eyes” she commanded, once he put her back on the floor and they just stood in place. “I love you, Jason.” Y/N said with fully convinced voice “whatever you think about yourself, you are a hero to me.” a little kiss on his forehead “A protector.” Kiss on his nose “a fighter” one on each of his cheeks “I can never see you differently” a peck on his lips, too short, leaving him wanting more and chasing her lips “but it’s me. You don’t need to act strong with me when you are tired. You don’t need to hide your emotions. You could never be too vulnerable for me. I accept and somewhat understand Red hood, but it’s Jason Todd I fell in love with. My Jason. The emotional one. All right, baby?’ she caressed his cheek, grabbing his hand and leading him backwards towards the bed “will you rest with me?”

“Yes.” He whispered “Please……”

“All right.” She helped him lay down and once he rested head on her chest, feeling her fingers play with his hair, the other hand caressing her back, Jason slowly let the tension and the burden of opinion, judgments and expectations go.

She was making him feel better about himself.

She was making him feel better about world.

And maybe it was wrong and selfish and careless, but he loved her.

And he was going to tell her that.

Soon.  

for the dc prompts you reblogged:

can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks

where reader is also a vigilante??

thank you so much 🩷

very sexy prompts thank u 😌

jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!

all fics at @sanguinelibrary

****

"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"

You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.

You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.

"What... do you mean?" you ask.

"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"

"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.

Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."

Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.

Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.

In short, he's perplexing as hell.

Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.

Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.

"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."

Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."

He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.

"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.

"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."

And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.

Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.

You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.

"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.

You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."

"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."

"Are you lecturing me?"

"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."

"Sounds personal."

Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."

You strike.

Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.

You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.

"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."

You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.

"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.

Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."

"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.

"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."

On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.

"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.

You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.

Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.

But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.

Which is terrifying.

"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.

"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."

Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.

He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.

"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"

"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."

You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"

"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."

"Screw you."

He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."

Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.

For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...

"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"

"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"

The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.

"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."

Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.

"Where's your distress signal?"

"Why would I tell—"

Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.

"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."

You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"

"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."

You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."

Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"

"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."

"As you wish. Distress signal?"

"Collar."

Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.

"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"

"In your dreams."

Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.

"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."

You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."

"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"

Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.

"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."

He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.