#but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it

[little-pondhead]

The Curse Of Hope

_

Danny is in another universe. He had a reason, but he doesn’t remember anymore. He can only stare, horrified and disgusted, at the sickest city spirit he’s ever seen. Shivering and swaying with every step, core exposed, and ectoplasm leaking from wounds that are decades old. A ratty blanket was thrown over their shoulders, barely hiding the spirit’s pale grey skin and protruding black bones.

The spirit didn’t even sense him until he reached out to touch its wispy shoulders. The spirit flinched, clutching at the dozens of trinkets hanging from their neck and tucking in on themselves like they were expecting a blow.

“Oh, shit,” He swore, floating back a few feet, hands in the air, to show he meant no harm. “I’m sorry. I promise, I’m not here to steal from you.” The spirit shivered again and rolled a pearl necklace in between their fingers. A nervous habit. “Uh, I like that pocket watch? It’s very nice.”

That got their attention. They peeked at Danny, and he saw that more tattered cloth was covering their eyes, blending in with the stringy hair that reached the ground. Their blanket fluttered weakly, revealing hundreds of thousands of tiny marks etched into their skin. Scars, really. Scars that wrote out curse after curse onto the spirit’s very being. They burned with evil intent, and even reached inside the spirit’s body and wrapped around their core.

Occasionally, blinding specks of color raced across their body, temporarily erasing the writing, but it always returned quickly. He watched, a little detached, as one particular line rewrote itself across their rough forearm, drawing fresh ectoplasm like someone was writing it with a thin knife.

“Are you…alright?” Danny stuttered. A stupid question.

The spirit cocked its head. He couldn’t see their eyes, but he felt their burning gaze as they pondered the question.

“The pain of others becomes mine own.” They rasped. “The lights of the city dim as rotten wealth clogs mine veins. Magicks long forgotten have eaten mine skins, pulled mine cloak, and darkened mine skies. Helios has refused to grace mine doorstep, and the seasons of the Earth have revoked their kindness.”

Danny held his breath. It felt like he was the one with the exposed core, not the spirit.

The spirit shivered once more. “Tell mine soul, little lamb. How could this Forsaken City know peace, when it was long since ripped from mine hands?”

Shit, he needed Frostbite. And maybe Clockwork. Now.

-Or-

Danny meets the spirit of Gotham City. The villains and rogues that have plagued the city for decades are literal curses that are taking quite the toll on Gotham, and honestly, Danny isn’t sure how much longer they can hold out. The heroes seem to be doing some help, and are probably the reason Gotham made it this far, but the poor city needs help from the Realms if they want to get better.

Luckily, Danny can provide that help.

But only if he could get Gotham to leave their city behind. Because recovery is going to take a very long time.

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #Gotham is very lanky and tall and had dozens of necklaces around their neck #the necklaces are just cords filled with lost things the citizens have lost over the years #like bits of glass or wedding rings or hag stones made from a destroyed gargoyle #actually I have a weird picture of Gotham in my head I might draw it #it’s giving Bloodborne to me but idgaf #basically Danny meets Gotham and is trying to convince them to go with him for medical help because what the fuck #those curses are the equivalent of leaving hundreds of leeches stuck to your body for ten years #Danny is BEGGING Gotham to come with him #there’s potential for angst but if you want crack then Danny probably replaces Gotham #I think there’s already a similar fic where he becomes the new spirit of Gotham but I haven’t read all of that #anyways the Batfam are like #invasive animals that are actually helping the ecosystem recover from an even WORSE invasive species #but they aren’t supernatural heroes and they don’t understand that the issue is deeper #I’m calling this the Curse of Hope because Danny is offering hope to Gotham #but Gotham is just so tired and sick and hurt that they don’t want to risk it #they think Danny is another curse come to plague them #should he just straight up adopt the city at this point? #idk it probably depends on how it’s written #sad course is to let Gotham die. happy ending is where they are treated and returned #crack ending probably has Danny adopting the city and introducing them to his own city spirit Amity Park #oh shit is that a new ship #guys please I can’t keep doing this #Gotham City x Amity Park #how the fuck do you come up with a name for that #Burger Joints? #Wet Pavement? #bro idk I’m putting this down before I make something I might regret #low key wanna write this but like. I have so much to do

[strawberryforks]

quite the pair // jason todd x reader

summary: you and jason are bestfriends, partners, and you’re sick.

warnings: swearing, alludes to assualt, violence, throwing up

word count: 1961

there was more to jason todd than met the eye. he didn’t make friends easily but he was a good one. he had you, who he met in the streets, back when he was living there. who smiled at him and handed him a can of corn that had it not been unopened, he would’ve swore was poisoned. or a disguised explosive. or… well, he didn’t know, but nothing good ever came for free.

he needed to repay you somehow so he stuck around. he didn’t do anything but he watched. observed.

you were skin and bones; the picture of malnutrition. you shivered and your teeth gnashed against each other while you slept, leaning against the side of a green bin. you had a blanket for the longest time and then you didn’t. he’d come back from stealing and selling tires to find the only warmth you had was your own embrace.

your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you rocked back and forth. the only sound in the entire alleyway, as he approached, was your breathing and the thrumming of your head as you banged it lightly on the metal behind you. you heard his footsteps, heard them get louder, heard him get closer, heard them stop in front of you but still, you kept your eyes shut tight. you didn’t have anything else to give, you couldn’t help anymore, and more than that, you couldn’t bare to see the disappointment in someone’s eyes when you turned them down.

it was dark–you recall it being around midnight because moments before the footsteps, before meeting the boy who’d come to change your life, you were staring up at the sky. clouds were thick and dark but moonlight sat behind them, just a lighter patch in the sky, waiting for it’s chance. the stars, though, there were none. the closest to that you had gotten that night was when a man flicked away the ash from his cigarette. on it’s decent to the puddle ridden asphalt it glowed a deep orange. like a shooting star, hell, like a meteor, you wished on it. you don’t remember what you wished for, just that it came true. you felt wind in your face and fabric was draped over your shoulders, then there were hands.

“up you go,” jason encouraged. he’d pulled you into his side, given you his sweater, and got some food into you.

he’d more than repaid the debt but… you did your part too. you made him smile–a feat he didn’t think was even possible, having not used what he assumed were dead and decaying muscles, in so long. you told dumb jokes but they made him laugh so you didn’t care, you called him jay and you helped when you could. he kept you as close to him at all times as he could.

gotham was a dangerous place. it was too dangerous for someone as good as you, but he couldn’t help that. he couldn’t make the world a better so he had to make you worse–because your trusting nature? your tendency to see the best in people? to smile at strangers and go without so someone else wouldn’t have to? it fucking terrified him.

he brought you with him one night, and made you a witness to various crimes. each time, he quieted you, pressed his hand over your mouth and whispered horrors he’d seen. he told you how the world was and how it worked.

but until something happened to you, until jason came back from stealing and saw a man hurting you, you didn’t believe that the whole world was awful. until jason slammed a tire rim into him, staining it red and leaving him limp, you thought there was some good. then you didn’t. you realised there wasn’t.

and then? then batman took you both in. the batman. bruce-motherfucking-wayne decided to play dad to two homeless, orphaned, violent, and thieving teenagers.

at first he just wanted to take jason. he had no interest in raising a girl but when he looked at you, watched you hug jason, whisper “goodbye,” and saw you ready to sprint away, it was decided.

the world was selfish and in a way it had made you selfish too. but there was one person you were willing to be unselfish for and it was him. jason todd. your jay. you wanted what was best for him, you’d live on the streets, die there too, if that’s what it took. then, batman, who’d decided he also wanted what was best for jason, realised that it was you. you were what he needed.

both of you were placed in the backseat of the batmobile that’s tires, much to jason’s displeasure, were still in place.

then you were brought to your new home. it had more to offer than the occasional canned food and bread crumbs. you didn’t have to dumpster dive, didn’t have to struggle. there were heaters and blankets and stocked cupboards and even a butler named alfred.

batman didn’t have plans for you, just jason, who he wanted as his robin. you never liked feeling left out so you trained too. just… privately at first. sitting on jason’s bed (you weren’t yet comfortable sleeping anywhere he wasn’t and batman came to realise that superhero–super vigilante, or whatever, it didn’t matter because there was absolutely nothing short of attaching a ball and chain to both of your ankles that he could do about it) you swung your legs over the edge, them not quite hitting the floor, and made what jason thought was small talk. idle conversation.

“so, how was training?” he dabbed at his face with a cloth, collecting sweat, and sighed. he didn’t mind training, i mean, he thought it sucked, but liked that there was a goal to work towards, and that the goal was him being stronger, and that if he was stronger no one would ever be able to hurt anyone he cared about–there was only you–ever again. “what did batman make you do today? anything different?”

“well,” said jason. “we sparred today. i ran on the treadmill, lifted weights, and i think he made me do, like, 1000 pushups.” jason may have exaggerated there, but you didn’t quite understand. sarcasm, hyperboles, they weren’t your forte. it took you a full twenty four hours, but in sets of ten, you managed. you fought one of the pillows in your room–not well, but you did, and ran around the bed that you’d pulled into the centre of the room until you were panting. the next day you couldn’t spoon fucking cereal into your mouth but six months later batman finally caved.

“train me.” you said, not begging anymore–long past that actually. “i can do just as many pushups as jason can. i can run fast. i can do good, batman. i know i can. i know there's not enough good in the world, that it’s a shit place and that there’s shit people but i’m not one of them. i’ll do good, be good. i swear.”

“you can train but for self defence purposes. robin and i have the crime fighting handled.”

“i’ve been training. i want to train with you and jay. if there's something i can’t do i’ll sit out, you won’t have to babysit me, i won’t say a single word. just let me try. if i fail i’ll drop it.”

when batman tries to make you fail your odds aren’t great. when your best friend, his sidekick, taps out before you do, they improve drastically.

with the bat’s stamp of approval you kept training and training. you patrolled with them, with jason, and while jason was robin you were batgirl. at 18 (you) and 19 (jason) the two of you go out on your own without batman, he checks on you sometimes but doesn’t feel the need to chaperone you on your crime fighting endeavours.

it’s around ten pm, when the crime picks up in the streets, and jason is beginning to get impatient. you’re not the most punctual but right now you’re really late. he could start without you, scale a building and begin searching for some drug deal to bust or mugging to stop. he could… but he doesn’t. jason–well, robin, pulls out his phone and calls you. you’re in bed, not dressed in your suit, and it’s all you can do to roll over. you slide your thumb against your screen, answering with a barely audible groan. your face is pressed into the blanket and jason’s voice spills through the speaker. “where are you?”

“m’home…” you manage.

“what’s wrong? did something happen? home as in the apartment or–screw it,” jason is standing up, he’s checking your location himself, seeing that you’re at the wayne manor and sprinting back the way he came.

“jay it’s okay. i’m fine, just sick.”

“i’m coming home.”

“no,” you whine, “you have patrol. protect the city and the people. duty and…” you cough. rub your throat, “whatnot.”

jason doesn’t respond but you know he’s not listening. you hear the sound of clothes being removed and assume he’s changing out of his suit.

you roll your eyes, he really is stubborn. you try again “you’re a hero, jay.” what’s supposed to be a motivational speech is interrupted by a coughing fit. you slam your finger down on the mute button and press your face into the big bowl you took from the cabinet, retching.

when you’re done, you hit unmute. “you’ve got to do your thing and save the world.” your voice is scratchy, your throat hurts. your ribs too. you’ve been in serious battles less painful–against two face, the joker. being sick sucks.

“i plan to. but my world’s at home in bed, coughing her lungs out. i’m stopping at the drug store and i’ll be home, ‘kay?”

“okay…”

jason makes you stay on the phone until he walks through the door. he hangs up and helps you to the bathroom. “you should’ve told me you were puking i would’ve grabbed some pepto,” you shake your head, “wouldn't be able to keep it down,” and watch as he not-so-subtly attempts to slide the bag of your favourite candies behind him. your smile comes out pained as another wave of nausea hits and you’re in the bathroom dry heaving above the toilet. he holds your hair back (if it’s shorter, he rubs your scalp soothingly) and when you’re done, helps you back to the bed.

he’s walking around you, doting. there’s a water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, he’s brought you a heating pad, filled a hot water bottle, and pulled the blankets all the way up. tucking them under your chin. he’s checked your temperature twice and walks back in front of the bed toying with the thermometer. “jay, stop pacing.”

“are you okay? should i get alfred?”

“i’ll be fine. either leave so you don’t get sick or come here,” you pat the spot next to you and jason walks over, lowering himself down onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. he kisses your forehead, “my immune system seems to be a lot stronger than yours, batgirl.”

“mhm,” you agree. “all the training in the world couldn’t help that, robin.”

jason grumbled and you raised a brow. “still mad about that?”

“that you got the bat prefix? nah, i’m happy being a sidekick named after a bird. ‘course i’m mad. not at you though.” never at you is what he leaves out, “at batman. my hero name could’ve been way cooler.”

“are you telling me you’d rather be batboy?” you ask, tone incredulous.

he chuckles, shoulders raising in a shrug. “we’d make quite the pair.”

“we already do, dummy.”

that night batman covers for you two–he patrols and you stay in your partners arms, recovering. later, he helps alfred make you soup. everything is easy with him. even getting better.

#jason todd #red hood #dc robin #robin #robin x reader #jason todd x reader #dcu #batgirl #batgirl!reader #red hood x reader #batfam

[ficsforyou]

Weeks

Dano!riddler x reader

Word count: 1,9k

Summary: And then they lived happily ever after… or did they?

Warnings: non-con touching, hinting at SA, language, kidnapping situation, obsessive thoughts, crazy guy, mention of murder

A/n: this series is my best series. It’s been hard writing another part cause I don’t want to ruin it. I kinda feel like I have? Idk I might just be self conscious about it. Sorry for the long wait regardless! I might do another part? Idk. Thinking of a happy ending cause this is sad. THANK YOU to all the people that sent me inspiration for this part! Love you lots and hope you enjoy x

Part 1 Part 2

He hated himself for taking her. Taking her away from her life, her friends and family. Letting her rot in his bedroom. But deep down he knew it was the right decision. She was meant to be his. They were meant to be together. He knew that. The only thing left was for her to understand that as well. She was feisty at first. And he honestly enjoyed it. The small comments and the looks she gave him. It almost felt like flirting. But now she was just lonely and sad. Depressed even.

Whenever he would go into the room she would turn around and face the wall. Not even wanting to look at him. He felt like a disgusting piece of shit. She feared him like the plague. Like some sort of murderer. Well he was a murderer, but she didn’t know that. And he had killed her father! Great! She’s going to love those news! But at the end of the day, he was tired too. He was tired of her rejecting him. It had been two weeks! She should’ve learned to at least like him by now. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time left. His grand plan of purifying Gotham was soon coming to an end. And he knew that he would have to leave her at some point. Why wouldn’t she love him? Why didn’t she see that he only did this for her own good? He did it because he cared. Because he cared more than her excuse of a fiancé. After the city discovered her disappearance, Bruce had gone on television to talk about her. Sure it was a nice speech, but he knew he didn’t mean a single word. Hell, he probably didn’t even write it himself. He tried to get rid of him too. Bombing the Wayne tower would probably have worked better if Bruce Wayne actually was in it. Bruce would yet again look like a hero once they find her. And he would look like the sad little loser that failed to kill him, and failed at persuading his fiancé. He needed to do something. Anything.

“Dinner is served.”

He said walking into the bedroom with a tray of hot food, carefully placing it on the nightstand. She turned around, like she usually did. Not even sparing him a glance.

“Y/n. Did you hear me? I brought you food.”

She didn’t answer. He sighed deeply. Sick and tired of her denial. He reached out to her touching her shoulder calmly. She flinched away from him quickly. Rejecting his touch.

“If this is going to work you have to at least talk to me.”

He stated. He was careful with her. He had been ever since she came here. Why didn’t she appreciate that? Any other kidnapper would’ve treated her like shit and probably killed her once he was finished with her. But he didn’t. He wanted to give her all the time in the world. But again, he didn’t have that.

“Why would I talk to you? Why would I want this to work?”

She hissed back at him. Another sigh erupted from his lips, as he sat down beside her. Reaching out to touch her again. Now making contact with her waist. She tried to wiggle away again. But this time there was no space.

“Baby, I love you. Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you just understand?”

He spoke with so much emotion in his voice.

“You don’t love me Edward.”

She answered, turning around to look at him. Even though her words were harsh, he couldn’t help but smile once her eyes met his.

“You’re just a creep. A loser. Someone who’s never even gotten laid and decided to kidnap me as the sick little pervert you are!”

She said with so much anger. Her words hurt him more than anything.

“You’re upset, baby. You don’t know what you’re saying. You’re not-“

“I know perfectly well what I’m saying. I hate you! You’ve ruined my life! I’m not scared of you anymore.”

She interrupted. She was looking him dead in the eye. As serious as ever. He closed his eyes. He needed to compose himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. But it was so tempting now that she had practically ripped his heart out.

“You hate me? Say that again please.”

He said calmly. Almost too calmly. She was scared. Even though she told him she wasn’t.

“No.”

She answered. He opened his eyes again. She recognised those eyes. They were darker than usual. The same eyes she had seen the night he took her. He tilted his head to the side.

“Why, baby? I though you said you weren’t scared?”

She looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. But he grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

“I never wanted you to be scared of me, y/n. Never. I just want you to give me a chance.”

She looked tired. Dark circles under her eyes. Some of it was the mascara that she cried off during her stay. But he could still see the prominent tiredness in her face. It matched his.

“How can you be so tactless when all I’ve done is for you? For us.”

She didn’t answer, and he took it as a sign. A sign that she finally was giving in. So he quickly leaned closer to her. Pulling her in for a kiss. He had never felt such happiness before. Kissing her was the peak of his life. The two seconds that it lasted he felt like everything was going to be alright. Before she started resisting. Pulling away from him. He didn’t let go of her jaw. Wanting, no, needing the kiss to last longer. But she wasn’t having it. And eventually got out of his grip.

“Don’t ever kiss me again.”

She said strictly, trying to make herself clear. Trying to take the lead. She knew submitting to him could be dangerous. She needed to keep her attitude. At all costs. He looked down at his lap for a second. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was thinking. Thinking hard about this whole situation. His next move.

“Fine.”

He simply said. She looked questionably at him, as his head turned up from his lap. Meeting her eyes again.

“I won’t kiss you.”

His hands slid down her body. Moving from her waist to her hip. She kept eye contact with him. She knew this was one of his games. God knows what he would do if she looked away now. The silence was excruciating. The only sound filling the room was her rapid breaths of terror. His hand was slowly itching closer and closer to the hem of her dress. And it wasn’t until she could feel his cold fingers on her exposed thighs that she broke the eye contact. A sinister smile spread across his face. Knowing that she lost their little game. Her eyes were now plastered onto his hand. Analysing his every move. Once he was done tracing small lines across her thigh, he reached for the hem. Starting to pull it slightly upwards.

“Please.”

She begged. Still not looking back at him. He continued nonetheless. Slowly revealing more of her soft skin.

“Please, Edward. Don’t do this.”

Her voice was quiet, but laced with horror and weakness. Yet he kept on going. The dress was now above her ass. Showing the pretty lingerie she was wearing. His fingered traveled from the dress to the newly exposed flesh.

“Stop! Please, I’m begging you!”

He looked almost captivated by her body. Something that scared her even more.

“You’ll never love me, will you?”

He asked all of a sudden. Resting his travelling hand on her stomach. Their eyes met once again.

“You’ll never see me as anything but a monster right?”

She shook her head. Not wanting to say anything wrong.

“Yet, I’m the only person in your life that has ever cared for you.”

A tear ran down her cheek.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I really am.”

He said as he cupped her cheek, wiping the tear away with his thumb.

“It’s ok.”

She whispered. Still terrified, but trying her best to keep her composure.

“Will you ever love me? Tell me the truth, y/n. Please.”

He had a desperate look in his eyes. He needed to know the truth. He needed it to be sincere. The times she would yell at him and say that she never would fall for him didn’t count. She needed to let him down truly. Heartbreakingly.

“I’m sorry Ed. But no. I can’t. Not after all you’ve done.”

She was honest. Probably the most honest she had ever been. And for some reason it hurt her as well. Telling him those words. Seeing him bow his head in defeat. Even though those were the words he needed to hear, it still stung. It broke his heart yet again, even harder than before. He knew her other attempts were just outbreaks. Just angry words. They didn’t mean anything. But this was different. She wasn’t angry now. For once she wasn’t the angry one. The anger had now turned to him. Those words aggravated him in ways he couldn’t explain. Even though he knew that she was telling the truth, he still felt like he just needed to prove that he was right. Prove to her that they were meant to be. He needed to show her his love. One way or another. He looked up from his lap again. The evident darkness was back in his eyes. And at that point she realised she had said the wrong thing.

“Fine.”

The simple word made shivers run down her spine. And not the good kind.

“I’ll just have to show you my love then.”

After those words escaped his mouth, he threw himself over her. Her screams were almost deafening, as they filled the small bedroom. He was straddling her like he did that night in her apartment. This time, with a completely different motive.

@daughter-of-the-king-bc @filmclubbook @etherealweed @lucciolaraven @felicityofbakerstreet @alicefallsintotherabbithole @alicehasdrowned @batdussyong69f @characterfucker @choke-on-the-poetry @sttarkeys @kpopgirlbtssvt @repostingmyfavs @glitterycheesecakegladiator

I love any sort of feedback x

#paul dano #dano!riddler #paul dano x reader #the riddler #paul dano x you #riddler #the batman 2022 #the riddler x reader #dano!riddler x reader #the riddler x you #dano!riddler x you #dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #the riddler 2022 #paul dano the riddler #the riddler x y/n #riddler x you #riddler x reader #danonation

[thedanoriddler]

🟢 Edward Nashton x Sick!Reader Headcanons ⚫️

Hey all, ya girl here has had fucking tonsillitis (or some other throat infection, my doctor just said my throat was SUPER infected) since Tuesday, and also too much time on her hands 😷🤧 figured I might as well put my sickness to good use for everyone!

Warnings: As title implies, being unwell: sickness mentioned is a flu/cold/throat/chest kind of illness, not p*ke. It’s literally just me using my illness and writing Eddie taking care of me/a reader who’s as ill as I’ve been. Literally is just soft fluffy comfort shit.

It starts as a sore throat and sniffle, you think it’s probably just a cold on its way, but then it actually just gets worse and worse

The second you so much as sniffle one morning, Eddie is right by your side because he’s hyper tuned to every little movement and sound you make - you can’t hide anything from him

“I’m fine, Eddie, really, it’s nothing-” “Nooo, no, (Y/N), you’re sick! Lie down, just lie down and I’ll be right back with some tea!”

You literally don’t have a choice, that man insists that you rest and he doesn’t take no for an answer

“It’s probably just a cold,” you mumble as you start to fall asleep, Eddie covering you with a blanket. “I’ll feel better after a nap…”

Yeah, no, you really don’t

You wake up after napping and can’t swallow anything without wanting to gag or cry - it just hurts too much. Eddie worries so much over you as he tries to get you to drink some more tea, but it doesn’t help. You can’t even swallow painkillers because your throat is so swollen

After some debate, you let Eddie look down your throat with a torch because he insists - his eyes widen and he tells you that there’s red and white patches, that you should probably go to a doctor. You’re stubborn though and tell him you’ll feel better after more sleep.

That night is absolutely miserable for both of you because you can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time without waking up in pain, and nothing Eddie does seems to help: you’re just in so much pain and you’re running a fever, alternating between having the sweats and having chills

Poor Eddie just wants to help so bad but he feels kind of useless because all he can do is let you curl up with him as you whimper and cry out in pain

You try showering or bathing in the morning but you’re burning up and can barely move, he has to help you get to the bathroom and help you get cleaned up because you can’t stand straight

When Eddie tries to make you some food, you turn all of it down - you can’t even swallow water or ice cream without it burning, without it feeling like knives in your throat, and you have literally zero appetite now anyway

Getting a doctor’s appointment quickly in Gotham is pretty much impossible, the healthcare is severely underfunded in most parts of the city and you’d be more likely to shit gold than find a decent doctor on short notice - but Eddie has his ways; somehow he manages to get a doctor to see you that evening, and he listens to everything the doctor says so he can help you get better

You get prescribed a course of antibiotics (penicillin) and Eddie is so diligent about making sure you start them immediately: he writes down the times you take a dose, makes sure you have all your doses, spaces them out so that you have a chance to eat between doses but can still take the pills on an empty stomach like you’re supposed to… he just wants to help you so bad, all he wants is for you to get better ASAP because he hates seeing you sick and in pain

He knows he could catch whatever you’ve got but he doesn’t care: when you ask him to cuddle you, he’s all too eager. You spend most of the week as you recover with his arms around you, his head on your chin, your head on his chest, his voice low and vibrating in your ear as he mumbles and tells you his favourite riddles

It doesn’t matter that your brain is too fogged and tired to understand riddles right now, hearing him recite them is enough to bring a small smile to your face because it’s just so… him.

You wear one of Eddie’s hoodies or jumpers when you’re feeling shivery and feel so comforted by it because it smells like him 💚

The two of you put some boring daytime television shit on and fall asleep to it together, curled up on the couch with a blanket 🥹

He helps you get to bed early after a dose of antibiotics, pulling the duvet over you as you doze off and pressing a kiss against your hot forehead; he stays by your side all night, barely sleeping himself, watching you and brushing your hair from your face as you sleep

The relief on his face when, the day after you start taking the medicine, you tell him your appetite is back and you’re feeling a little bit better is honestly so goddamn pure, his face lights up and he’s just so damn happy that you’re already doing better

Eddie does his research on what foods and drinks are good for sore throats and fevers because of course he does, and he is all too happy to cook and make things for you to eat

He also goes out and buys a shit ton of sore throat sweets in your favourite flavour, like boxes and boxes of them, it’s really so endearing

Let’s be honest, being sick really fucking sucks - but it sucks a little less when you’ve got Eddie there with you, giving you cuddles and looking after you 💚

#the riddler #edward nashton #paul dano #the batman #danonation #edward nashton x reader #the riddler x reader #the riddler imagine #paul dano x reader

[scorchedhearth]

Day. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled | Ringing ears

set vaguely before utrh starts, featuring jason's first step in gotham's underbelly

Jason doesn’t like to admit these kinds of things, but he fucked up here. He royally fucked up, he shouldn’t have trusted intel gained from secondhand, outdated and misleading hearsay that result in this kind of shitty deal. Him, tied to a chair, a gun pointed at his face and no way to get out of his bonds, not with the way they messed up his shoulder.

Think, think, think Jason. He let his eyes run around the room, at Jack, currently rambling on and on about his feat and great mind, the two guards beside him and the three lackeys accompanying them, including the one currently holding the gun muzzle straight in his face.

“Don’t you ever tire of listening to this piece of filth?” He asks the youngest of them, the one standing behind this little assembly. Jason’s never been one to take a beating silently, that’s not his style and he’s sick with his voice already. And distraction is good, it makes them fail, it makes them vulnerable.

But Jack doesn’t take the bait, he only nods at lackey number three who pulls the gun away only to knock him at the back of the head with the grip, full strength too. Helmet or no helmet, it hurts, and the electronics inside do not like it one bit. He built it himself, so he knows it’s strong, but there’s a breaking point to anything if you’re looking hard enough for it.

The hit did nudge his body enough for the shackles to slide down his wrists, enough for him to reach. He pulls out the pins he keeps in his sleeve, and starts to work on getting them off quietly.

“Who told you about me,” Jack carries on with a self-satisfied smirk. Jason would love to rip it off his face with his own hands. “About this little operation of mine?”

“A, you are not nearly as suave as you like to think you are,” Jason spits and grins at the twitch of his eyebrow. He hit a nerve there. “B, the guys you employ love to run their mouth, you should be careful with that. And C, nothing goes on in this city without me knowing about it.” He ignores the blood pooling at the back of his mouth from this bitten tongue, keeps his voice steady. “You really thought you could take your share of the cake here without me coming by to let you know the rules?” 

“That’s why you’re the one bound to a chair and I’m the one holding the gun?”

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” Jason bluffs, lets cockiness slip in his tone. Truth is, he only wants to get out of here as fast as he can, the plan was to blow up this jerk’s warehouse, where he transits his supplies of guns and stolen goods. He rigged the entire building, all set on a timer, about to go off sooner than later. He wasn’t expecting company, which is right where the ‘royally fucked up’ component of this evening comes in.

“I think you’re full of shit.” Jack sneers. “And I think you’re stalling because, despite the name you’re using and your cute little gadgets, you’re nothing but a loud mouth.”

“Then why don’t you just kill me?” Just a little more, he can feel it, just a few more seconds and he’ll get the handcuffs off and then the fun will begin. But he should have excepted this asshole to raise to the second bait, just to piss him. Jack grabs the gun out of lackey three’s hands and Jason only has a moment to hope to god he’s good enough to have built a helmet that’ll withstand a point-blank shot.

It happens so slowly, the handcuffs falling from his wrist, his shoulders coiling as the finger presses the trigger and the shoot firing at him. Then nothing but noise and a flash of blinding white. His head is jerked back violently, his back arches as a terrible, overwhelming noise rumble throughout his skull, like thunder cracking.

For one agonizing, quiet and hopeful moment he truly believes he’s dead, gone for good.

And then he opens his eyes to his helmet’s blown-out lenses, cracked and grey, and realizes the noise is a combination of his ears ringing from the sheer volume of the shot and the sound receptors that must have been killed with it, creating a loop of feedback that almost distract him from the way Jack is standing with his back toward him. He has no idea how long he was out, if the warmth he feels on his face is sweat or blood and if he’ll even be able to walk but he doesn’t care much, Jason knows an opportunity when he sees one.

He takes two breaths in, the first to get a hold of the nausea rolling in his stomach and the second to push back the pain blasting from his shoulder and in his skull. It’s all mechanical when he pushes himself off the chair and lunges at Jack, ripping the gun off his hand to point at his head, daring the others to shoot at them. His moment of glory is cut short when he catches a spark out of the corner of his eyes, already cursing this evening to hell and back. Time to make his exit then.

He slams the gun into Jack’s head and shoots once toward the audience before making a go for the nearest door, thankful still open. The ten strides it takes him to get there feel like forever, and it’s still not enough to avoid the blast, the hot air washing over him as the main structure crumbles behind him.

Jason falls to his hands and knees, ears ringing and vision blurring. He’s retching up blood and bile and spit before he can take off his helmet, the sound of screams and fire eating at the metal roaring behind him.

#not sure how i fell about this one but glad i finally wrote him #wt22 #dc #jason todd #used an alternative prompt because it screamed jason to me hehe

[suhmayzooka]

some panels i like from huntress/spoiler: blunt trauma that i like

[stephanie’s inner monologue: huntress moves like a tiger. cold. professional. and maybe a little bit cruel. way past anything i’ve ever seen the guys do to a hood. with her it seems more personal.]

i really think steph’s insights into helena’s fighting are really interesting, especially how she notes that it seems more “personal” than how the other bats fight. 

[stephanie: the way you took down czonka...

helena: yeah?

steph: you didn’t give him a chance. just put a hurt on him in a hurry.

helena: is that a criticism?

steph: no way! i thought it was cool! robin always plays so fair. like these creeps deserve a break.

helena: well, i’m tired of playing by their rules, you know? gotham needs buttkickers, not shining knights.

steph: ain’t that the-- you smell something?]

another thing i like—steph being a little fangirl over the huntress haha. i’m not super familiar with stephanie, but it’s interesting to see that she doesn’t immediately shun helena for being violent. 

it’s interesting to me to think of all the capes’ stances on crimefighting, mercy, justice, and retribution in relation to each other. from cass’s “nobody dies” to bruce’s “if i allow myself to go down that path i’ll never come back” to dick “i lost all control, i let anger carry me” grayson, to jason beheading guys, to helena’s own opinion (which IMO is more complex than the “she’s set apart from the bats because she shoots people!” that certain comics/people make it out to be, but whatever, not the point)

[helena: this is a waste of time.

steph: we couldn’t leave him there to burn.

helena: why not? he’d probably love it. he was trying to kill us, remember?

steph: robin and i have talked about this and--

helena: great! so you bought into their philosophy, huh? live and let live and all that BS. but what if you’re not as fast as they are? or as good as they are? or as strong as they are? have you thought of that, little miss crimebuster? well, you end up dead or worse at the hands of these sick monkeys. i say mercy is strained here, you got me? i say they get what they deserve. the next mook who crosses my path? i aim for his eyes.]

but it’s interesting to see steph has limits. she stops helena from attacking arthur brown, despite how much steph hates her father 

[helena: the blond is your father, huh?

steph: yeah, but he was never around much. in and out of blackgate all the time.

helena: sounds like a break for you.

steph: i know he’s a total creep but i don’t want him dead, huntress.

helena: you don’t know what you want. the cluemaster doesn’t get a pass just because he’s your dad.

steph: you think i’m out here for the fun of it? do you know what it’s like trying to live down having a major hood for your father?

helena: try living down a whole family of major hoods.]

steph has a level of connection to crime that the other bats don’t, simply by virtue of being related to a (big name? minor?) criminal. it’s a connection she shares with helena, of course, and i think that gives the two of them a different approach/insight to crimefighting. the other bats have been the personal victims of gotham’s criminals, but steph and helena have a personal connection to crime itself. it’s an interesting parallel and i’d like to see it explored more

this is only one issue, but i really like the parallels drawn between helena and stephanie in regards to their criminal families,, and their contrasting crime fighting philosophies. i realllyyyy think helena and stephanie could’ve had a really interesting dynamic (like... helena was a “batgirl” too!) but ofc steph has to go fake die soon adhlakjshdaljkshd

#dc #batclan #lynxreadscomics #helena bertinelli #stephanie brown

[msfcatlover]

Further research has shown the Ailanthus moths I’ve given Damian have a lifespan maxing out ~75 days. Females will lay ~200 eggs, but I cannot find the viability percentage of those eggs (searching “hatching” with any word combination I can think of is only getting me cocoon hatching times.) However, google says the average egg-to-butterfly in general ratio is ~1-2 out of every 100.

It is worth keeping in mind that Jane Prentiss’s swarm was purely larval (she stuck her arm in a wasp nest, and her “worms” do match descriptions of wasp larvae.) But I want Dami to have moths too, so let’s say that lack of pupating is a Prentiss thing; John Amherst was described as having both flies & ants following him around, so clearly adult insects are possible, though whether they were his swarm or just creepy-crawlies that liked to be around him is vague as Amherst is more associated with disease than insects. (I personally believe his aspect is the dangerous grossness just barely out of sight; the disease that shows only hints before it kills someone, the house infested with vermin barely noticeable from the outside, that sort of thing.) (Amherst is even more protective of his little friends than Prentiss is, weirdly enough. She doesn’t seem to care if a few worms get squished, but if someone calls pest control to Amherst’s house? Oh, you better watch out…)

(Also worth noting: Corruption-influenced creatures often have atypical behaviors compared to their non-supernatural counterparts. Wasp larvae aren’t normally that aggressive, mosquitoes can’t work together to escape from captivity, etc. So anything I come up with that is just objectively wrong for Damian’s silk moths isn’t me, guys, it’s the Corruption! I swear.)

Anyway. I was doing this research to try to figure out how badly the Lazarus Pit would have influenced Damian’s swarm, and how long it would take for it to become obvious what he was. Let’s say all the adult moths & larvae were killed off by the Pit, and most of their tunnels healed, leaving only a small network in Damian’s chest where most of the eggs were (let’s say ~1000.) Assuming Talia shipped Damian straight to Gotham after saving him, the first larvae would hatch within a week of getting there. Damian would probably eat a lot more than most boys of his size & age, but would never seem to put on weight. He would also be tired and probably in a lot of pain as the larvae borrowed new tunnels throughout his body, though he’d definitely try to hide that. I don’t think the 1st generation of adults would be ready to leave his body, so those first ~4 months wouldn’t be terribly obvious (though that’s still ~10 moths with 5″ wingspans wriggling around inside him for about a week. Maybe a couple less, given the stress of the situation? Though, I’d imagine Corruption critters are probably a lot hardier than their normal counterparts, so maybe a couple more. That is still going to be unspeakably unpleasant.)

So it won’t be until the 2nd generation reached maturity that Damian would need to start worrying about people noticing what he was. I was going to have Bruce “die” at the 8 month mark after Damian moved in, but maybe it would be better to make it ~6 months, so that Damian has an excuse to hide just how sick he is.  Then Dick becomes Batman, Damian becomes Robin, and Tim goes off for the Red Robin arc. Scarecrow escapes, and Dick finds out what Damian is. Damian’s swarm is cut down again after he pukes up a lot of his caterpillars (and probably transplants them to a proper Ailanthus tree, since I doubt Dick would let Damian hurt himself just to put them back.) So Damian has another 3 generations before it becomes a serious problem (~7.5 months) which give Tim enough time to complete his arc, get back on good terms with Dick, and start to get along with Damian. At which point, Damian asks Tim to “lance the wound” so to speak, putting a single deep puncture for the swarm to enter & exit Damian’s body without hurting Damian even worse (which Dick would not understand the necessity of, possibly, given his own relationship with his patron is almost purely adversarial. And the Hunt requires much less personal sacrifice than the Corruption does.)

The wound does not bleed (at least not long,) because it is coated in silk like a second, internal skin. It will always ache, but is considerably less painful that the swarm building up inside of Damian or even vomiting them out. It will never heal, but unlike the wounds Damian had before the Pit (which largely served the same function,) it will never get infected as on every level possible, Damian’s become a much healthier person. (Scientifically, he no longer has to tend to his hurts alone, so they get better treatment. Socially, he has a much bigger support network. Psychologically, he no longer feels quite so self-conscious about his true nature, no longer having to hide or feel shame over himself or his swarm. Metaphysically, his relationship with the swarm itself is healthier, as he has found healthier ways of living with it than bottling it up or letting it nest in open wounds he received in training, and Damian is no longer so dependent on it for emotional fulfillment.)

#bugs #cw: body horror #tma crossover #batfam crossover #bat fam #bat family #batfam #batfamily #robin #damian wayne #damian al ghul #Corruption aligned Damian Wayne #my writing #mine #// #Tim’s probably going to order moths from several different sites & give them to Damian at some point like #’’Get some genetic diversity back in your swarm! I don’t /care/ if they’re supernatural; an ancestor pool of 10 is /so/ unhealthy!’’

[ivygroved]

to my dear bruce,

it’s been nearly three months since we’ve spoken,   since i decided to tell the world the truth about me.   i wasn’t sure how you would react      ------------      how would any sane, logical person respond after finding out that their girlfriend is the queen of the underworld?      ( i wouldn’t know,   i lost my sanity a long time ago,   at the same time that pamela died in that lab ).      i’m still not entirely sure why i’m writing this letter to you now;      writing a letter in itself seems so archaic,   but you’ve been ignoring all of my texts and calls,   all the emails sent both to you and to alfred as a last ditch effort at reconciliation.   if things had been different,   if we had reconnected before this damn city had ripped me apart,  maybe we would’ve been perfectly happy together.   after all,   you’ve always been the only person that i could talk to,   the only person that allowed me to feel normal      ( despite all of the shit that was happening at home,   despite the hidden bruises and hesitant smiles ).      even recently,   you were the only person that reminded me what it felt like to be human again,   reawakened parts of myself that i thought had died long ago.

some days i think that i see you in the streets,   in the endless sea of faces that i interact with daily.   maybe it’s wishful thinking,   but i hope that one day we’ll meet again,   that you’ll forgive me for all the lies and secrets.   maybe you’ll even understand why i did the things that i have…

i don’t think of myself as the villain that the media paints me out to be,   and i don’t think that trying to saving the earth is a crime.   my radicalization came as a direct result of the crimes of gotham,   the corruption of government officials due to human greed,   a reality that maybe you never had to face due to the sheltered life you’ve been living.   the people of gotham are dying,   just as surely as the earth itself is,   and i want to be a figure of liberation for them all.

the batman is the only thing separating me from true liberation,   but i hope that he’ll see the truth too,   before things get worse than they already have.   i don’t want to hurt anyone,   i don’t want to become a monster,   but i can become the villain that gotham so desperately wants me to become;      you know better than anyone,   what these pressures do to a person,   what expectations force you to turn into.   i’m so close to achieving my goals,   to finding out who the batman is,   to bringing a green utopia to gotham.   i had hoped that you’d be by my side when it all happened,   that you would be in my corner,   but maybe it’s better that i have no weaknesses when the war commences.

i miss you,   bruce.   i miss quiet mornings in wayne tower,   late nights talking about anything and everything.   i’m sick of the memories making me feel guilty,   i’m tired of the regret;      i don’t want to hurt anymore…   maybe i should just let you go.

this pains me more than you’ll ever know.

love, pamela isley  your dearest ivy

dear @nightwarn​​,

you don’t want to hear from me,   and that’s fine;      our relationship should’ve died with pamela months ago.   i’m doing what needs to be done,   and i won’t let you make me feel guilty for it.

i will find the batman,   and i will kill him.   then,   i will purge gotham of its poison.

you will never hear from me again.   don’t try to stop me,   or you’ll join the rest in their graves.   this is your only warning.

-   poison ivy

#the first one was never sent #and the second one was the one she went with #ugh this hurt to write #we love pain <33 #nightwarn #.✰*⊹ — ˗ˏˋ letters ˎˊ˗ #.✰*⊹ 001 — ˗ˏˋ queen of green ˎˊ˗

[ellienettie]

Dickinette <3

No actual title for this one :D Just wanted to get rid of it from my notes ^^

His hair was soft, roughed up as she continued to run her fingers through them. He was lightly snoring on her lap. Marinette has never felt so in love as she does right now, staring at him. Eyes closed, he's peaceful for once, smiling even in his sleep as his head seemed to follow her hand in whatever direction. Sometimes up and down, sometimes side to side, sometimes in a circle.

"Stop moving your hand so much, love." Oh, maybe he wasn't asleep.

Marinette giggled, a warmth spreading around her chest area not from the fire in front of them. Despite being outside in Gotham at night, right beside a river, they were warm because of each other. Dick's hand reached up to grab hers, pulling it down to his lips to kiss her knuckles. Marinette has never felt so loved before.

"Aren't you tired?" She asked him as she let her hand be held by his, her other hand now stroking his head.

"You're making me tired." And he's smiling at her as if they don't have problems for the both of them to fix when they're away from their own world. 

"Is this your way of telling me to stop then?" She's been smiling and grinning for the past half hour, her cheeks hurt but every time she looks at him she just can't stop.

"Never. Matter of fact, I'd happily glue your hand to my head." Dick laughed. Marinette's giggling again like during those patrols with Chat and her, when he'd tell her all types of jokes and she'd laugh even when it wasn't funny. 

"Silly, your hair will end up ruined." His thumb was rubbing her hand, smooth and gentle despite his hobbies. Kwami, she just loved him too much.

"I won't mind, as long as I'm always near you." Marinette rolled her eyes at him. 

"You dork." She pushed his head away from her lap, laughing as he gracelessly fell on to the grass. 

"I can't believe you just let me fall like that!" He said as soon as he managed to get on his knees, immediately putting his hand to his heart and his other hand holding tightly on to her thigh, a wounded puppy expression on his face 

"Shut up, stop being a drama queen" She said as she pushed his hand away, Dick smiling at her, eye-contact never breaking even as he fell on his back. 

"Lay on me?" He asked her, and really, how could she resist?

She knelt down on her knees right beside him, and she let herself fall on his arm. 

"I love you." They said to each other at the exact same time, the moment they looked into each others eyes again. 

"Jinx!" 

"Double-Jinx!" 

"Triple Jinx you can't talk until someone says your name!" Dick managed too say just before her, years of practice against a speedster finally paying off. 

Marinette pouted at him. "I'm not saying your name~" He chuckled, kissing the crown of her head. Marinette huffed. 

"You do look cute, love, but I'm still not going to say your name~" Marinette poked him harshly. 

"Cute." She wrinkled her nose at him and he kissed it. 

"Marinette." She smiled at him. 

"Dick." 

"Marinette Grayson." 

"Richard 'Dick' Dupain-Cheng." and they're smiling at each other like love-sick teenagers pinning desperately for each other.

#dickinette #romantic dickinette #maribat dick grayson #maribat marinette #mlb x dc #dc xmlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #batfam x marinette #mlb x batman #batman x mlb #ml x batfam #batfam x ml #marinette x batfam

[guillotoinette]

My Little Clown

Being the Joker's girl isn't easy. If anything, it's a curse. To constantly be up at night thinking about the future, me and The Joker's. Gotham's dark knight has the two of us in his palm, It's only a matter of time until The Joker gets caught. God knows what torture they have awaiting him.

The thought of his suffering made me feel sick. His poor, hurt soul. Whatever did they do to you?

...

Despite the horrible things he'd done, I can't leave him. I can't. I never will. Why do I love you this much? A murderous lunatic, making me feel loved. Like I'm the happiest, luckiest girl in the world. Jack is the only person that makes me feel like this, like I'm somebody, and not just some puppet. The sheer thought of his bruised hand on my cheek, his scarred lips brushing against mine.. It makes me feel like I'm in heaven. I can't seem to come down. It's like he drugged me, pricked me with a love poisoned arrow.

But he doesn't want to admit it.

At least, not yet.

You're a dangerous drug, but oh god you're addicting. So addicting.

I lay in my bed, feeling like I'm in the sky as I think of more scenarios with Joker. The fluffy bed makes me feel more ecstatic.

"When are you coming home?"

I took a glance at the clock hanging on the wall.

12:15

Just as I was about to turn off the lamp on the bedside table, I hear the door creak open, and my head quickly turns to my right.

My eyes met his, a small grin can be seen blending in with that blood red lipstick. Oh how it tastes so intoxicating.

I stood up the bed, running towards his arms that are open wide for me to jump into.

I feel my chest rub against his leather suit, feeling his slow beating heart. His dark eyes stares into my soul, and I couldn't help but look back at them. Those two dull marbles, they don't scare me anymore. Not like it used to. In fact, just looking into them is enough to make me feel at home. They're comforting.

I stood on top of my toes to give him a kiss, but before I can even reach him, I feel his lips on mine. They're soft, and warm. They made me melt completely, losing my balance and catching myself by wrapping my arms around Joker's neck.

"Aww.. Looks like someone missed me."

What he just said made me red. Goosebumps scattered across my skin as his gloved hand caresses my cheek ever so slowly. I couldn't help but smile back at him, my face resting on his palm.

He lets go, leaving a small squint in my eyes. He takes off his coat and throws it on the ground.

"Today was, ah.. Tiring. Boring, even."

Then, his gloves. He walks over to a desk and places them there, and I couldn't help but notice his hands. They were bruised.

I opened my mouth finding words to say to him, but his deep voice interrupts.

"Those mobs were no fun at all.."

His left hand rolls up the sleeves on his right arm while he walks slowly over to the bed. He falls comfortably on the edge, patting both of his thighs as a gesture for me to sit on him.

I obey, sitting myself on his lap. I can feel his hot breath on my bare nape, sending shivers down my spine. He gently wraps his left arm on my waist, pulling me even closer to him while his right hand meets my hair, playing with random black strands. He's so childish.

"So, sweet cheeks.. What have you been up to?Hmm?" He sounded so gentle. It's unusual, yet it's so reassuring.

"Jack.." These words escape my lips. I turn around to face him, forcing him to back up and make space for me to sit on.

I place both my hands on his shoulder, looking directly in his eye. Nobody has ever dared to stare at the Joker, but I can tell. I can tell that he loves it when my brown eyes look into his.

"I.. Wanted to ask you something."

Oh God. What the hell am I saying?

"Jack.. What exactly do you feel.. About m-"

He silences me by pushing his lips on me, this time, it was harder. More passionate. His embrace made me fall on him, now making me on top of him as he lays down on the bed, his stringy hair messy against the white pillow below him. I pull away giving him the chance to answer my question.

"I thought I've made it obvious enough. I love you, (Y/N)."

His once dark eyes now twinkled with the stars out the window. He smiles. A genuine, pacifying smile spreads across his cheek.

"You are my purpose."

Before I even knew it, a tear sheds from my watering eyes. I'm crying. I'm crying over what the world calls a monster, what I called a monster. The rogue they so feared and loathed turns out to be my savior from the salvation this society had to offer me. For all my life. He's all I ever yearned for.

My destiny. My Joker. My Jack.

I felt myself becoming more weak, eventually collapsing on to his chest as I continue to sob.

He softly brushes my back, giving me a light kiss on the forehead.

...

It felt like 15 minutes until I finally caught up to my breath. Jack's gentle strokes really helped me calm myself down.

I stand up the bed, with him doing the same.

"Shh now, dollface.. I'm here.. Everything's ok." He whispers, leaning towards me and kissing my shaking lips. He bit and tug my bottom lip, causing a soft gasp to leave my mouth. The sensation made me lust for him uncontrollably as his tongue draws circles on mine, faint whines escaping my lips.

"You don't have to worry about anything. Tonight, you're all mine. And I'll be sure to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk." He groaned, his voice now a bit lighter than before.

"You're such a kidder." I teased.

"You think I'm joking?" He glares at me, and he couldn't help but smirk.

"Well, they don't call you The Joker for nothin'."

He laughs, and I laugh with him. It's such a feeling to share chuckles with him, especially when it's just the two of us.

"As I was saying.."

In a flash, he pins me down the bed, both of my hands trapped in his. He kisses my neck and I can't help but moan at how sweetly he did it. But it didn't last for long, the sugary kiss was now salted with a bite. I felt him suck the spot where his lips used to be. It's painful, but god, it's oh-so gratifying.

I want more. I want more of him.

He stops and pulls away to have a good look at the mess he made. My neck was burning with purple and red.

"Now that is, uh.." He licks his lips. What a sight for sore eyes.

"A mark. A mark to label you.. Mine."

His hand meets the ribbon of my dress, undoing it until it was nothing but rags on the floor. He reaches to his pocket to grab a knife, the point pressing on my underwear ripping my bra and panties off, now exposing my naked body. He gazes were flaming, and I can feel him examine every part of me.

It's embarrassing, I'll admit, but I know how much The Joker loves to draw little smily faces on my skin with his soft fingertips, so by now I have no reason to feel like this. He's remembered every bit of me, and the both of us know it.

"My little clown."

His hand was now on my breasts, fondling them tenderly. His thumb draws circles on my tits and I let out a moan in his ear, making sure it ringed in his eardrums, memorizing the tune I made for him. My fingers dug on his back as he made his way down my torso, over to my hips, and eventually toying with my folds. His fingers are so warm it was sure to leave me melting over his touch again.

"Ah..? You're already this wet..? We're just starting, you little slut."

He continued to rub against my flaps, and he didn't hesitate to slide a finger inside. I gasped, I certainly wasn't ready for that.

He's extra stern tonight. He knows I like it that way.

His finger slowly pushed in and out, a moan slipping out of my throat. When Jack saw how I looked like absolutely gratified by his touch, he picked up the pace, now going as fas as light. He pushed another finger inside, then another. I'm getting ripped and I hate how much I love it. I grasp onto his shoulders, fingers digging into his wrinkly shirt, moaning in pure bliss.

"God, you're- ah.. Sooo tight. Soo wet tight for me."

"J-Jack! I'm gonna cum!"

"Oh no you're not. Not yet."

And when I was just about to, he stops. He pulls out his fingers, licking my liquids off like a thirsty cat.

He shoves his thumb, rubbing it inside my inner cheeks. And I'm not gonna lie when I say I love the taste of my fluids mixed with his spit. I squint my eyes, sucking and biting on him.

Jack stands up, giving me some time to sit up the bed and catch up on my breath. I look at him, catching sight of his hard erection, tightening and visible through his pants.

He unzips his violet bottoms and carelessly throwing them in the corner. I kneel down in front of him, pulling down his boxers to reveal his long, veiny cock leaking with pre-cum.

"Now, open wiiidee"

I obey, and before I can even start to suck the tip, he shoves all of it inside my mouth all the way to my throat, thrusting it rapidly as I desperately try not to gag. Eventually getting the hang of it, I swirl my tongue around, earning a loud moan from him.

"Fuck. You feel so good. You're doing so good, dollface." He groans. I look at up him to see him leaning his head back while he fucks my mouth, his eyes closed and his lips slightly open to let out quiet moans and groans. He opens his eyes to catch me sightseeing at his view, I look away to focus on my job, but then I glance back to him as my ears were met with his charming laughs.

"You're so cute, (Y/N)."

I blushed and smiled back at him.

My chest, thighs, and the floor was all covered in saliva and juices.

A few thrusts later and he picks up the speed, becoming more hasty and shaky. I can tell he's close.

He groans finally, his deep nasally voice spoke

"I'm gonna cum, (Y/N), and you're gonna take it all in like a good. little. doll."

I nod.

"Fuck!"

Then, he releases it in my throat. I swallow it all, not a drop dripping out of my lips. He puts a knuckle on my chin, pulling my head up to make eye contact with him, now kneeling in front of me.

"Where, uh.. Where'd ya learn how to suck dick like that, hmm?" He whispers, and I let out a giggle.

"Did I do good?"

He kisses me, our tongues colliding and he pulls out with a spit still on his mouth.

"You did amazing, doll. But now.."

He lifts me up the floor and throws me onto the bed once again. He rests his knees in front of me, hoisting my legs up and wrapping them around his neck.

"Now.. You're getting your reward, as deserved."

He rubs his tip on my swollen clit, exchanging heavy breaths with each other. My eyes are on him, not leaving it once. He leans in front to be closer to me, and I quickly pull him in, kissing him on the lips.

"Hey. Better stay in your place, sweets. Otherwise tonight's 'session' is gonna be longer than expected."He mutters.

"But daddy-"

He stops stroking.

"What- uh.. What'd you just call me?"

Now I'm hitting his weak spots. He loves being called that nickname, like I love being called his good little girl. He loves dominating me as much as I love being commanded by him.

"Daddy, plea-"

"Oh you're fucking getting it."

He strokes one last time before pushing his cock inside me. He's so big. I can remember the pain I felt when we first had sex, he stretched me out so much and I bled all over white sheets. But it was all worth it. Once he hit my sweet spots, I was in heaven.

I let out a moan, leaving him to do the same. He slides in and out, making lewd sounds that echoed around the room, blending with our whines and whimpers.

"Oh Jack yes! Fuck me! Please! Fuck me harder, daddy!"

"Awe, is my little doll enjoying herself?"

"Oh yes, yes I am!!"

"Let's see just how long you're going to last me, you pathetic little whore."

He turns me around and I feel a hard smack on my ass, leaving me wailing. He continues to thrust, slapping my cheeks the same time our hips collide when he bangs me mercilessly.

I feel his chest on my back and his breath at the back of my shoulder. He bites down on my shoulder blade, his yellow teeth deepening in my skin and sucking it. I cry and whimper to no avail, as he continues to mark my shoulder bone with purple and red.

He pulls back, blood dripping from his teeth and swallowing it. Jack continues to fuck me from behind while looking at me, close-up.

"You look so beautiful, even when you're getting your brains fucked out." He cackles in glee.

"You enjoy being messed up by my cock that much, don't cha?"

"Very much!"

"Then cum for me. Cum for me, you pitiable fucking nymph! Cum for daddy." He groans, his voice so deep that I can feel the air vibrate. He pulls on my hair while he places his left hand on my loin.

Those words were enough to make me do what he wanted, cumming in pure euphoria and those stupid butterflies fluttering inside my stomach. He turns me to him and I arch my back, giving Jack full access to my hips, grabbing them and pulling me closer to his pelvis, fucking me even faster than before.

I had just came, so my clit was really sensitive, and that, Jack knew very well. He puts his thumb on the spot, rubbing it bluntly.

The rhapsody I felt was slowly fading, but Jack had no plans on stopping.

"Jack- Jack it hurts-"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry my angel. It's almost over, alright? Keep your eyes on me."

And I do so. I put my hands on his cheeks to softly caress it, causing his eyes to flutter and sparkle. I smiled at the sight, almost forgetting the discomfort between my legs.

"Mhmm.. Fuck..!" Jack curses.

I felt the hot spurts of cum he planted inside me as his cock twitches uncontrollably. He pulls out, some semen left dripping on the bedsheets and on my stomach.

He lays down beside me and I put a hand on his chest. I scooch closer to him but he already pulls me in for our last kiss tonight.

"You.. You were- ah.. You were okay."

I let out a small chuckle on how bad and ridiculously he tried to deny what he felt.

"I love you, Jack."

I turn around and he spoons me in his big arms. I squirm around and purposefully rub my ass on his crotch.

...

His dick is still hard.

#imagines #the joker #joker #joker smut #heath ledger #heath joker #ledger joker #the dark knight #batman #fanfiction #joker fanfiction #fanfic #heath ledger joker

[marauderundercover]

How We Fell: Ch. 17

Day 17: Ugly Sweater/Family Dinner

AO3

Prev

Getting Nightwing and Red Hood out of Paris was her first priority once she’d cast the Miraculous Cure. With the amount of damage on both the city and the citizens, Ladybug had been forced to not use the Cure on herself. At all. Especially since Carapace and Red Hood were injured so badly. Usually, the tiny ladybugs would give each hero a little help (when the situation was bad enough that it couldn’t completely heal the heroes), but she couldn’t let her team- her friends- suffer. Shifting her weight and pressing a hand to her side, she quickly calls a portal to Gotham and tugs the vigilantes after her, sending a wave and grin to Carapace as she does so.

“Nightwing?” She says softly, noting the way his shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. “It is not your fault. Hawkmoth knows how to get into your head. How to make promises that you need.”

“But I still did it. I accepted.” He says, sounding disgusted with him.

“You did it to save Red Hood.” She says firmly. He nods, still looking distraught.

“Not to bring up a possible problem, when you’re trying to process that whole shit show, but uh, do you think he knows our identities?” Red Hood asks, frowning, helmet in his hand. Ladybug freezes, eyes widening. Hawkmoth would do anything to get the Miraculous. Would he use the Bats’ identities as blackmail to try and get them on his side against her? Would he-

“I didn’t think about it.” He says. Ladybug blinks.

“What?” She asks. Nightwing shifts his weight, obviously uncomfortable talking about it, but they needed to know. She needed to know.

“It hurt. I- I don’t remember everything. But I remember it hurting, because he wanted to know secrets. Things that I couldn’t let him know, and he kept pushing for them.” He says. Ladybug purses her lips.

“I am truly sorry that this happened to you. Did you have anything in Paris you needed? From a hotel or something?” She asks, trying to think of how she could sort that out without revealing that she knew his identity. But he shakes his head.

“The company I was there for has an apartment complex. My things should be safe there until someone can ship it.” He says, his voice still off. But it wasn’t an ‘I’m evil’ off. It was a ‘I’ve just dealt with something traumatic and don’t know how to handle it’ off. She felt awful. Technically, she’d only met him twice. Briefly. And sure, she hadn’t really met him more as Marinette, but she’d heard so many stories from Damian. She just wanted to wrap him into a hug and reassure him again that it wasn’t his fault. But she couldn’t.

“I suggest staying around people that care about you for the next forty eight hours or so. Take some time to start to heal mentally, and don’t push yourself too far. In Paris, individuals get an automatic three day sick leave after being akumatized.” Ladybug says. He nods stiffly, and she sighs. She’d have to figure out a way to get Damian to check on him without being awkward about it. Just as she turns to go, Red Hood grabs her wrist.

“If you need help, call this number. Now that I know what the fuck is going on, I can actually do something to help. And once I’ve had a few days to process, I can control my emotions pretty damn well.” He says, passing her a slip of paper. She wants to say no, to deny that she needed help, but she was tired. Carapace and Chat Noir were tired. They needed to end it. So she accepted the number, slipping it into her yoyo.

“Thank you.” She says softly before calling a portal and stepping through. She lands back in the alley in New York, letting Kaalki’s transformation drop. Before she can drop Ladybug, though, her yoyo rings. Glancing around, she darts behind a dumpster. Not the most sanitary place to hide, but she really didn’t need the Avengers to know about the situation in Paris. Or the Miraculous in general.

“LB! Are you okay? I completely forgot to say anything about having to leave town, and I didn’t think it would matter because Hawkmoth had been so quiet recently and-” Chat Noir rambles, the pain clear in his voice. She cuts him off.

“Chat! Stop, it’s okay.” She says immediately. He sniffles.

“I’m so sorry.” He says, and she can tell he’s crying. She wants nothing more than to be with him, her best friend, so that she could hug him and reassure him. Let him know she wasn’t mad. He always struggled to believe her when they just talked on the phone.

“It’s okay, Chat. I don’t blame you. I promise it’s okay.” She says softly. “You’re my best friend, Chat Noir. I understand you have a life outside of being a hero. I do too. It’s why I’ve been a couple minutes late to attacks recently. I- I kind of moved outside of Paris. I can portal in, and I’ll still be there whenever you need me. But I understand that things change and that we have let our civilian lives take priority at times.”

“I uh, I think that’s the most personal thing you’ve told me since we revealed our favorite colors and animals.” He chuckles, the sniffles finally dying down. Ladybug grins.

“Well I think we’re getting closer to the end of this whole thing, Kitty. And I’d love to stay friends when we don’t have our masks anymore.” She admits.

“I’d love that, LB.” He says softly. And suddenly, she was filled with hope again. They could do this. They would beat Hawkmoth.

---

Two weeks later, Marinette sat on her couch working on some last minute adjustments for a new suit for Jagged. The MTV Video Music Awards were in less than a week, and he was nominated. Clara was too, but she’d already sent her dress out two weeks before. But Jagged had insisted that his measurements hadn’t changed. So now here she was, taking his suit in with just another day to finish before it HAD to be in the mail. She barely glances up as she hears the jingling of keys and her front door being unlocked.

“Angel, have I told you lately how much I admire you as a person?” Damian asks, walking into her apartment. Marinette raises an eyebrow.

“What did you do?” She asks. Damian frowns.

“What do you mean?” He asks, sitting on the couch next to her. She snorts.

“Are you really trying to tell me that you walked into my apartment and complimented me for no reason?” She asks. He purses his lips.

“Mostly.” He says. She laughs.

“Okay, what’s up?” Marinette asks, turning to face him. He frowns, his eyebrows furrowed.

“My family would like to invite you over to dinner.” He says, and she grins, happiness fluttering in her chest. They still hadn’t defined their relationship, but they had been on several dates. And sure, she’d met his family before. But that was as Jagged’s niece. And most of their conversations revolved around Jagged or Bruce. Not really getting to know her. Which was fine, but the fact that they wanted to get to know her? It meant a lot.

“That’s amazing! I’m so- wait, did you think I would say no?” She asks, confused. She’d even asked when she would get to see his brothers again. They were all pretty cool (and secretly, she wanted to make sure Dick was okay after the whole akumatized thing).

“I was actually hoping to convince you to say no.” He says softly. She flinches, frowning.

“I- wait, why?” She asks, the hurt blooming in her veins. His eyes widen slightly, and he moves forward, gently taking the suit from her hands and setting it gently on her coffee table. He takes her hands in his, holding them.

“I can assure you, Marinette, it is not for whatever awful reason you’re thinking.” He says gently, and she relaxes slightly. She’d explained her anxiety to him before, and he was always very considerate about it. Reassuring her that her intrusive thoughts were just that, and that even if she felt like they were true, chances were that they weren’t.

“Then why?” She asks, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure it out.

“My family is…a lot at times. And now that they know my feelings for you are not platonic, I worry that their actions in relation to that will push you away.” He says simply. That was something she’d always admired about Damian. He wasn’t afraid to say what he meant, and he didn’t dance around subjects. She smiles softly, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She pulls back, squeezing his hands as she smiles at him.

“A million rabid bears couldn’t chase me away from you.” She says. He snorts, quickly covering it with a cough. He rubs his thumb in circles on her hand as he lets out a sigh.

“Is six o’clock okay?” He asks. Her eyes widen.

“Tonight?” She asks. He nods. She swears underneath her breath, letting go of his hands and leaping off the couch. “Six is great, make yourself at home, I gotta change!” She calls, rushing back to her room. Time to meet his family as his…not platonic friend? She sighs. They really needed to talk about what they were.

---

Stepping out of Damian’s car, Marinette gasps as a realization hits her.

“What’s wrong?” Damian asks, immediately scanning her. She grins, bouncing up and down.

“I get to meet Titus and Alfred the Cat!” She cheers. He laughs, shaking his head.

“Of course that’s what you are focused on. I don’t see Father’s car, so he must still be at the office with Drake. Would you like to meet Titus and Alfred before dinner?” He asks. She nods, grinning.

“Please! I’m sure their pictures don’t do them justice.” She laughs. Damian just grins, intertwining his fingers with hers as he pulls her into the manor. As they enter, an older man with a suit and mustache steps into view, his face unreadable.

“Alfred, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, my-” He pauses and glances at her. Seems he was struggling with the label thing too, Marinette thinks. “Marinette. Marinette, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He technically works for the family, but he is more of a grandfather than anything else.” Damian says. Marinette smiles at the man, extending her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Monsieur Pennyworth.” She says. He nods, shaking her hand.

“And you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” He says. She laughs.

“You can just call me Marinette. Dupain-Cheng is a little long.” Marinette says.

“Very well, Miss Marinette.” He says, his lips twitching up slightly before he turns. “I shall be in the kitchen finishing dinner.”

“Did you need any help?” She calls after him. He pauses and turns back to her, a small smile on his face.

“No thank you, my dear. I am certain Master Damian would like to spend some time with you before the rest of the family makes their appearances.” He says, nodding at her before turning and leaving the room. Marinette just smiles after him. She had a good feeling that they would get along great. She turns to say something to Damian, but her eyes widen in surprise as he gives her a quick kiss. Her eyes flutter shut, but she barely has time to lean in before he’s pulling away, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Would you like to meet Titus and Alfred the Cat now?” He asks quietly, his lips quirked up. She nods, unable to speak. He honestly took her breath away. They walked into a room that she identified almost immediately as the library. She gasps in delight as Titus bounds over to her, knocking her to the ground and barking a greeting.

“Hello Titus! You are such a good boy.” She coos, continuing to give him compliments in French as she pets him and coos softly, still pinned to the ground. He moves off of her so that she can sit up and pet him more. He moves back, turns in a circle, and then plops down onto her lap. Marinette laughs, shaking her head. “You are such a good boy!” She winces slightly as Titus shifts, digging his paws into her legs.

“Titus, off.” Damian says firmly. Titus huffs, but climbs off, choosing instead to stand next to her. Marinette snorts, scratching behind his ears one more time before standing up and brushing her dress off.

“He’s even cuter in person.” She grins, grabbing onto Damian’s hand again.

“I agree, though I may be a bit biased.” He says, his lips twitched up into a small smile. Just as she’s about to ask about Alfred the Cat, a black blob runs from the room.

“I’m guessing that was Alfred?” She asks. He nods.

“I assume Titus’ boisterous greeting frightened him. Perhaps later, we could-”

“Dames! You in here? Is Marinette- Oh. Hi.” Dick calls from the hallway, walking into the library and smiling slightly. Marinette suppresses a wince at the slightly haunted look in his eyes. She knew that Red Robin, who she assumed was Tim, had videos of each of the akuma attacks. And she guessed that Dick had been torturing himself by watching his video. She’d have to see if Tikki could go in and erase that video sometime. Dick didn’t need that constant reminder. It wasn’t fair to him.

“Hi! It’s nice to see you again.” She says, smiling.

“You too. I was just about to start a movie, if you guys wanna join. B and Tim called and said they’d be about an hour later than expected. Some emergency at the office.” Dick says. Marinette glances at Damian, raising an eyebrow. She knew that, out of all of his brothers, he was closest with Dick. And that if Dick had been off lately, like she assumed, he would want to spend as much time with him as possible.

“I’d love to watch a movie. Damian?” She asks. He nods.

“That sounds enjoyable. What movie were you thinking of?” Damian asks, Dick grins, his face lightening slightly.

“What about Big Hero 6?” He asks. Marinette nods immediately.

“That’s one of my favorite Disney movies.” She says with a grin. Dick laughs.

“Mine too!” He says.

“I do not believe I have seen it.” Damian says.

“I really think you’ll like it.” She says softly. Damian just nods, squeezing her hand again, before leading the way to the movie room. Marinette was kind of glad that the family dinner was pushed back an hour though. It gave her the chance to try and let Tikki out to get rid of the Frightwing videos. As much as it would upset Alya, she’d need Tikki to take it off the Ladyblog too. Dick was too good of a person to continuously relive his akumatization. She’d seen it drive people to do horrible things before. Things that they couldn’t come back from. And she wasn’t about to let anything like that happen to Dick. Not if she could help it.

Next

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[analviel]

Idea: ReverseRobins!Damian wakes up in the body of canon!Damian.

Details:

>In both worlds, Tim is Red Robin and Jason is Red Hood.

>Tim in Reverse Robins don't kill people, he maims them, with the belief that without limbs, they're unable to hurt people and can focus on regaining their sanity that way (he died by killing himself after being turned into Joker Jr). "They can regain their minds without their limbs. Especially without their limbs."

>And unlike Lazarus!Jason, his main emotions isn't anger, but apathy. Doesn't care for anything that isn't his Mission. If you get in his way is the only time he'd give you attention.

>Rr Jason took on the name of the Red Hood because it won't be traced back to the Bats (same reason canon!Tim wore Red Robin).

>Damian's reaction to Tim's death hadn't been to retreat, but to lash out. It was a... very bloody few months for Gotham and Bludhaven.

>Rr Tim never went out of his way to try to kill Rr Jason because he, just, doesn't care. But Jason tried to stop him once from brutally maiming someone and the consequences was... bloody, to say the least.

>Rr Tim kind of totally blackmailed Bruce into being his official guardian after both his parents died in Haiti (because Bruce wasn't there to slap the poison from Jack).

>Rr Damian finds it very weird that Jon is younger than him here.

>Because there were already other kid fighters before Rr Tim entered the picture, and he never expressed interest in specializing in combat, Rr Tim had been the sort of Oracle of the Rr Bats, doing most of what Alfred does in the cave so the old butler can focus more on maintaining the manor and also just lightening his burden. He only has Robin sometimes and is mostly trained for mid to long range (because unlike Damian, Steph, and Duke, he didn't come with street fighting experience and since he never pushed, Bruce was fine letting his sort of son do his thing in the background, primarily trained in dodging -Not that it helped him with Harley's mallet, Damian bitterly thinks).

>When ReverseR Tim came back from the League though, he knew how to fight close combat (a Chinese war sword I think is the name of the weapon I'm thinking) which is the main reason the Bats didn't recognize him immediately.

>ReverseR Stephanie was paralyzed and started handling the comms and the medical stuff. She's a med-student but probably has more know how than doctors twice her age. She was Batgirl first then became Spoiler when she pass it on to Cass. Because "Spoiler alert, there's a guy coming up to your ten and Penguin is having his unboxing of some sick weapons".

>Jealousy did get in the way of Rr Damian and Tim's relationship but it had gotten better. The last time they saw each other before Tim was ambushed by the New villain Harley Quinn on the way back home, Damian had thrown him out, tired of people trying to make him feel better after something happened to Jon. (I'm tempted to deage Jon as his canon was aged up.....).

>Rr Jason uses guns and it's allowed because his big brother is Damian.

>Just as Dick set the tone for the following Robins, Damian did the same for his Robin (Hoods). Just as Thirteen Jason had been a much happy and peppy kid than Nineteen year old Dick Grayson, Thirteen Tim is much more like Bruce than Nineteen Damian, so the friction mostly came from there. Also Ra's liked Tim a bit too much so there's also that....

>Rr Damian is absolutely the aloof helicopter parent. Which does sound contradictory, but he makes it work. Rr Damian and Rr Jason have their own version of Dick and Tim's relationship closeness. (The flaw in this is that he's like Bruce in that... if he believes its good for you, he can convince himself he doesn't need to get your consent. He knows better.)

>Rr Jason and Cass are very close but disagree quite a lot. You can always find them bickering. From who's the older one to who gets shotgun in the Batmobile, to things like morals and which classics actually deserve to be burned.

>Talia tossed Jason in the Lazarus but Rr Tim had been healed by Ra's.

>Rr Tim had been tortured same amount of time as Tim Todd, and he also had that chip. Only difference, he'd also been programmed into following Joker's orders to the letter. "Kill him JJ!!" "No! Tim, don't be a killer."

Tim can't kill Bruce. He also can't kill Joker.

There were only three 'hims' in that room.

"Kill him JJ!"

The only reason I want Damian to be there at the scene, like, just a few seconds late, is because I want flashbacks. Then again, he can also just watch the same recording Bruce probably tortures himself by watching too.

>Pre-Jason death was Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Barbie. Pre-RrTim death was Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Duke, Cass, Steph.

>Young Justice happened too but Tim just had Superboy and Impulse wear cameras and comms. Tho Tim still met Bart personally in civilian. And steadily drawn out eventually for him to appear in person more.

>Not really Bat related, but Kon has a much better reception with Jon excited for a baby brother.

>Rr Dick is A.DO.RA.BLE. And kept far, far away from Rr Tim.

>Rr Barbara is the third Batgirl after Cass becomes Black Bat and Jason is Red Hood.

>During the Bruce is dead (in the Reverse Robins-verse), there is no Battle of the Cowl (duh, no matter what world Tim still wouldn't seek it out without sound and desperate reasons and Damian had literally spent his whole life assurinb his stake on it)(it still happened in canon-verse tho), but I don't know if I want RR!Damian to Possess canon!Damian before, after, or during it. They fully believe that Rr Bruce is dead until Rr Jason's path cross with Rr Tim and Tim.... hmmm, he genuinely doesn't care, so I wonder how and why he's going to drop a hint. This time, Tim knows because he'd seen some ancient records in the League but Tim didn't really pursue that. He wants something from Jason in exchange, and after that hint, Jason then goes on his trip around the world for proof he barely believes is there but can't help but hope. He does not tell Damian because he's not going to give the blood son possible false hope. And also I'm not sure the difference in how Damian would've handled the Robin debacle since Dick wouldn't take it from his big brother, but Kid Dick is a very angry vengeful little shit that really wants to go kill Tony Zucco so.... Jason was probably guilted/forced into passing it on for the kid's sake and there's just a tiny, tiny bit of bitterness.

>And i also want a scene where canon!Tim and Rr!Jason share a commiserating look after having to deal with this shitshow of a family and their respective predecessors' shit.

To elaborate: Timeline is further along in canon. So Reverse Robins are still around dead/lost!Bruce while canon!verse is sometime after they've retrieved Bruce and Dick is out of the Cowl.

#dc #robin #batfam #dc comics #damian wayne #tim drake #red robin #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #nightwing #red hood #reverse robins #and i write #body switch #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbar gordon #batgirl #spoiler #oracle #black bat #signal #fic idea #fic prompt #fic recs

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Explaining Batfam lore to my sibling

(and also explaining Batfam lore for people who need a general idea of what’s going on)

Me: I’m meshing together multiple timelines so --

Them: timelineS?

Me: yeah, timelines plural, keep up

~

“The Rogues aren’t really important in explaining any of this but it’s important to me that you know them”

~

“So either Riddler was a guy who became a jewel thief for the gimmick or a guy with split personality where one side had a crush on a very nice lady and the other had a crush on murder”

~

Me: Poison Ivy got mad because Bruce got her lab torn down

Them: ew!

Me: well, it’s more like Harvey Dent got the lab torn down and Bruce was like “that’s my friend!”

~

“Joker is a bitch that fell in acid and then decided to make that his entire personality”

~

Me: Penguin just likes money

Them: good for him

Me, nodding: good for him

~

“Bane had a point about capitalism but then they realized that he did and made him decide to blow up a bunch of people to make him evil”

~

“Bruce was a happy child... until he wasn’t”

~

“Bruce was there when Dick’s parents fell because he was out with Girlfriend Number 454825 and he was like :(″

~

“After a few years of Bruce not figuring out much about the people who killed his parents Dick said ‘know what? Batman ain’t shit’ and then he became Robin”

~

“Babs appears around here and... does stuff. Kinda”

~

“And Dick — sick of Bruce’s shit — went off to Bludhaven, which is just Gotham but a little bit to the left”

~

“Bruce saw this kid stealing his tires and instantly decided to take him in”

~

Me: Jason is super sweet and he genuinely wants to help people because he doesn’t want them to suffer like he did

Them: aw... he dies, doesn’t he?

Me: I’M GETTING THERE

~

"Jason gets his birth certificate and he was like ‘wait a minute, Catherine doesn’t start with an S’"

~

“Bruce gets all angsty after Jason dies and almost kills the Joker for killing him but Superman stopped him because he’s a BITCH”

~

“Somehow Tim, at age 9, was the only person ever to figure out Batman’s identity”

~

“He essentially bullies Bruce into making him Robin”

~

Me: you see, Tim has a parent problem... his problem that his parents are still alive

Them: really?

Me: yeah... anyways his mom dies

~

“Tim’s dad decides to be better dad after his wife’s death. Which is unfortunate because he realizes Tim is Robin and immediately decides to keep Bruce away from him”

~

“Bruce gets another Robin, her name is Steph and she dies within 100 real world days for the crime of... being a Girl and a Robin”

~

“Tim goes back to being Robin despite his dad’s wishes but that’s okay because his dad is promptly killed off”

~

Me: there’s a new player in town and it turns out that it’s Jason

Them: but isn’t he dead?

Me: he’s alive because Superboy Prime punched the world really hard and broke reality, you’re just going to have to accept that

Them: ...

Me: ANYWAYS he’s bitter because Batman hasn’t killed the Joker yet to avenge him and so he decides to kill people that aren’t going to reform... he doesn’t succeed, unfortunately

~

“Steph’s actually alive, by the way, just unimportant”

~

"Alright, a guy named David Cain saw this lady called Lady Shiva and he wants to have a master martial artist for a daughter so he’s like ‘I’m a martial artist... you’re a martial artist... I’m going to kill your sister’”

~

“He raised this kid to be an assassin, do you really think he cared enough about her to teach her to speak?”

~

“Cass kills a guy and then promptly decides she doesn’t like that shit and runs away and ends up adopted by Bruce... because of course she does”

~

Me: Cass is suicidal for a while until Lady Shiva kills her and cures the problem

Them: no!

Me: but then Shiva wants a rematch because Cass wasn’t trying and then Cass beats but doesn’t kill her

Them: yes!

~

“She just kinda vibes with Babs and Steph for the rest of this. I’ll give you three guesses why they aren’t used more”

~

“Now we’re onto the murder child, Damian Wayne. He was raised by the League of Assassins and is Bruce’s blood son”

~

“He tries to kill Tim to get Robin from him a few times but it’s just kinda brushed aside... just like I’m going to brush it aside right now”

~

“Bruce dies and Dick is made Batman and his first act as New Dad Of The Family is to kick out Tim and make Damian Robin which I don’t like but I deal with because Dick and Damian are the cutest duo”

~

“Tim ruins everything between Dick and Damian by bringing Bruce back from where he was trapped in time...  no, I don’t really get it, either”

~

Me: Bruce and Damian are the Batman and Robin for a while but then Damian dies

Them: does he come back?

Me: of course he does it’s DC but first... it is time to introduce The Boy: Duke

~

“Duke and a bunch of other kids decided they were going to help out Gotham as unofficial vigilantes and a lot of them get seriously hurt but they’re irrelevant”

~

Me: I forget a lot of what happens during his plotline but he jumps out of a police car and jumps off a bridge and gets superpowers so --

Them: SUPERPOWERS?

Me: yeah, he makes comic history by being a black guy with powers that aren’t lightning or fire... instead he gets just plain light powers

~

Me: Duke has parents still

Them: do they die?

Me: no, actually

Them: wow --

Me: they go insane because of Joker Gas and try to kill him

~

“Alfred dies via Bane around here but because that’s a stupid decision I’ve elected to ignore it”

~

Them, after I finished: wow, a lot of people died and came back

Me: yeah, I actually left out a bunch of fakeout deaths along the way

Them: YOU LEFT SOME OUT?

#i think im very funny #i did all this with a whiteboard to help them visualize it all and they still came out of it confused #i tried #bruce wayne #batman #riddler #edward nygma #poison ivy #pamela isley #joker #penguin #oswald cobblepot #bane #batdad #batfam #dick grayson #nightwing #robin #barbara gordon #oracle #batgirl #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #black bat

[bluegarners]

“I have your loved one” with Dick and Jason?

heyyy, it's finally here haha! i'm slowly getting to each request lol

here it is on ao3

I Have Your Loved One

It’s Thursday.

Time: 23:47, or 11:47 p.m.

Bludhaven has hit a rough patch in its weather, a vicious storm battering against thin windows and overflowing gutters and drains. It’s one of those storms that brings in the water but no lightning, dark clouds blanketing the entire sky, remorseless and relentless in its pursuit of smothering any light from escaping. The clouds don’t muffle anything though, perhaps amplifying instead the downpour that floods through Bludhaven’s streets and alleyways. Its citizens like to think this is a New Jersey hurricane, freshly mutated and traveled from the east coast into their humble, mildew covered city.

Dick likes the rain. Likes the way it pounds against his apartment, screaming to be let in but just barely warded off by seven inches of concrete and steel. The blinds are closed against the windows, and he has towels pushed up against the sills just in case the sealing lets up. Even if they were open, Dick is sure all he would see is another wall of gray and black, dozens of delicate raindrops splattered against his windows.

Because of the storm currently wreaking havoc in his city, Dick has elected to stay indoors for the time being. Eventually, the rain will let up, its pattern being close to about 05:00, and then he’ll suit up and do a quick patrol before work. For now, he’s content with sitting on his couch and listening to the water smack against the old building and run rivers down the sides. He’d like to sleep through it, a free white noise service at the ready, but his mind simply refuses to allow him to rest just yet. In a few hours, he’s sure he’ll come to hate himself for not taking NyQuil or some other drug to help him fall asleep, but for now… Well, it’s nice. The rain is nice. It’s also very loud.

He misses the first call.

His phone is face down on the kitchen table, about eight feet away from where he lays on the couch, mindlessly staring up at the ceiling. It vibrates, buzzing for thirty seconds, before falling silent.

He misses the second call too.

Thunder rumbles through the black sky, its force shaking the windows and only encouraging the downpour. His phone buzzes again during it, quieting after another thirty seconds.

Dick hears the third call. Hears the tail-end of the buzzing, getting up from his position on the couch and padding over to pick up his phone only to miss the last few seconds. He unlocks his phone, checking the number, and feels something cold settle into his gut when he sees no caller ID. It’s the same person though, all three times, but no voicemail.

He’s about to call the number back, just in case it’s someone he knows and they’re ringing from a payphone or something else, when the no caller ID flashes across his screen for the fourth time.

Dick answers on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Is this Richard Grayson?”

“Yes, that’s me. Who is this?”

The voice is feminine, a slight, western accent, longer o’s and a faint drawl. Somewhere from Arizona most likely. Lower register too. Older woman, mid-to-late fifties. Smoker.

“That’s good. I was starting to think I had the wrong number, Richard.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just didn’t have my phone on me. You didn’t say earlier, but who is this?”

“That doesn’t matter too much right now. What does matter, though, is this.”

She pauses. There’s shuffling he can hear on the other side. A faint, second voice in the background. No, three voices. At least two others in the room with the woman. He can hear the sounds of an air condition unit rattling.

“I think you might’ve cut off there. What were—”

“I have your loved one, Richard.”

Lightning cracks through Bludhaven.

His stomach falls onto the floor, pooling around his ankles. The storm outside grinds to a halt, the quiet louder than any thunder it’s ever managed to produce, and there’s a high pitched ringing reverberating inside his skull. Dick thinks he might be sick.

“What?” he chokes, the air in the room suffocating and weighing down his lungs. “What did you say?”

“I have your loved one,” the woman repeats, calm and slow. “Your brother, actually. Then again, he tells me you aren’t related by name nor blood, so we’ll settle for a loved one.”

“What do you want?” Dick demands, already scrambling to get to his computer, find where they’ve taken Jason. Find his brother.

“He did say you weren’t one for small talk,” the woman carries on, unhurried and unconcerned. “Your brother isn’t either, hardly said a word all this time.”

“Can I speak to him?”

There’s a small huff on the other end of the call, exhalation and a sigh leaving the woman’s mouth. A cigarette. She’s smoking during this conversation, blowing the smoke into the receiver.

“I don’t know,” she finally answers. There. Dick has his general location. Still in Gotham. He needs the tracker to be more precise though. It’s taking time though. Too much. “Your brother here was pretty convinced you wouldn’t answer after his daddy didn’t pick up. Cried pretty hard about it too.”

“What are you talking about?” Dick grounds out, fearing his phone will crack with how tightly he’s gripping it.

“Well, you weren’t our first choice to call, Richard. I’m sure you understand.”

Dick says nothing, focused on the computer screen in front of him. He should contact Barbara. This would be faster with her. Faster to find Jason.

“We called about seven times,” the woman continues, blowing another puff of smoke out into the phone. “Isn’t that right, boy? We called and called and called. His daddy didn’t pick up once, went straight to voicemail each time. A shame, really.”

There’s a sniffle on the other side of the call and Dick’s heart seizes when he realizes it’s probably Jason.

Batman was currently off-world, all communication with him being strictly between Justice League lines. Bruce Wayne was somewhere in the Bahamas, partying with Italian models and Spanish actresses.

Of course he wouldn’t pick up.

“Can I please talk to him?” Dick asks for the second time, fisting a hand into the couch cushions. “Please, I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

More smoke. “I’ll ask him.”

There’s a muffled thud, the phone most likely having been put down, and quiet voices filter through the line. He can’t hear much of what they’re saying, short bursts of comprehensible syllables before fading back to unintelligible noises. His computer dings with a response from Barbara. She’s going to use one of the J.L satellites to better pin-point Jason’s location. She’s also in communication with the police, reporting a child-abduction.

Keep them talking, she writes. Everything is going to be okay, Dick.

It feels like his heart is beating in his throat and his tongue has swollen to the size of a bowling ball. The storm outside is unrelenting. Lightning hasn’t struck again.

There’s more movement on the other side, clattering and scattered noises. The phone’s been picked up.

“Alright,” the woman says, raspy and uncaring. “The boy says he wants to talk to you, Richard.”

Dick holds his breath, waiting. There’s more noises, a transfer he thinks, and another sniffle interrupts it.

“Hello?” a shaky voice asks into the receiver. Dick feels like crying.

“Jason,” he breathes. “We’re going to get you out of there, alright? You’re going to be okay.”

“I’m sorry,” his brother rattles, a sob latching onto the end. “I’m so sorry, Dick. I-I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Dick shushes, feeling himself get choked up at the fear in the younger boy’s voice. “I know you didn’t, bud. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“No, not really. I didn’t think you were gonna pick up,” he admits, voice cracking. “B-Bruce didn’t. He didn’t answer, Dick, and I-I thought you weren’t gonna either. I-I thought—”

“I’ll always answer, Jason, I promise. I’m coming for you, okay? I’m going to come get you and we’ll both go home together. Does that sound good, Jay? You’re going to be fine.”

“Okay,” the thirteen year old relents. “You promise though, right? You’re not gonna leave me here?”

“No, Jay, of course not. I’m not going to leave you there, I’m coming to get you. Right now. I promise, okay? Jason, I would never abandon you. You’re my kid-brother and I love you. I’m not going to-”

“As touching as this is,” the woman interrupts, “I think that’s enough.”

“Put Jason back on the phone,” Dick snarls. “I swear, if you lay a hand on him, if you even touch him, I will end you.”

“Sure, honey,” the woman drawls, puffing into the receiver. “Here’s what’s going to happen, so I want you to listen to me.”

His computer dings. It’s Barbara. She’s got the location. It’s close. Not even twenty minutes away. Border between Bludhaven and Gotham. Motel next to the gas station connecting the freeways. Room 13.

He’s out the door and revving up his motorcycle before the woman has even taken a second drag from her cigarette. The rain is beating against him, gloomy street lights flickering through the shrouded dark of the storm. Thank god for Bludhaven sewers, only slightly better than Gotham’s. The water level is only a few millimetres high.

“Now, I don’t want to keep this kid anymore than you want him to stay here with me,” the woman drones. The streets are empty. Dick blows through every red light he comes across. The tires are new, the grip is fine. “So, I think we can make this simple.”

“What do you want?” Dick growls, transferring the call into his helmet. He prays she can’t hear the rain battering against it. “Just tell me what you want already and I’ll give it to you.”

“Don’t rush me,” the woman snaps, and it is then that Dick realizes that this is all probably by chance. This isn’t some criminal mastermind who plotted to find and kidnap the son of a billionaire. This isn’t a case of a rogue villain piecing together vague details and figuring out Batman and company’s identities. It’s simply someone desperate. Someone who saw the opening and took it. The poor planning is evident, practically spelled out in bold print that these people have no real idea what they’re doing.

“Sorry,” Dick bites out, veering through a short-cut that says, in neon orange, Danger. Construction Zone. “Please continue.”

The woman on the line is vindictive though, choosing to remain quiet as the sound of a lighter clicking open tinnies through the call. She takes her time lighting a new cigarette, taking a long, slow drag and holding it in for a few seconds. Dick jerks his bike to the right, narrowly avoiding a large pothole. A passing car blares its horn at him. Finally, the woman exhales. He can hear Jason cough in the background.

“What I want,” she starts, a new color of intrigue hitting the back of her throat. He’s barely ten minutes away now. Could probably half it if he took more backstreets and increased his speed. “Is for my son to be released from prison.”

“Who is your son?” Dick asks, cursing silently as his back tire skids, hydro-planing for a moment. Thunder crashes above him and the rain continues to pelt at his body. It feels like getting hit with a paint-ball gun.

“Landon Jennings. I want you to get him released. I know you have the access to lawyers, probably have debts owed to you from people in high places. I want him released tonight.”

Time: 00:14.

01:14 a.m standard time.

“I can do that,” Dick says, heart beating faster as he sees the sign for the motel, dim in the gray, “but I’ll need a few hours. I need to contact my lawyers. Where is your son stationed?”

An icon appears in the front of his digitized visor. It’s Barbara. She sees him closing in. Police are on route. Seven minutes out. He has the option to wait on them and keep the kidnappers on the line.

“Same place they all go,” the woman barks. “Use that head of yours and figure it out. I want my son out by tonight, or you’re not going to see your brother again. And,” she rushes, “I don’t want the police involved. If you call them, I’ll know, you understand? I don’t want to hurt the kid, but I’m not scared to. My husband is here with me too, so if you try and—”

Okay, so waiting isn’t an option. He’s going in.

“No police,” Dick interrupts. “I understand. Please, don’t hurt him.”

“If you just do what you’re told, then I won’t have to.”

“Thank you,” Dick whispers, gently getting off of his bike and leaving it on the side of the road. He can’t chance them seeing him pulling into the motel lot. “You said your son’s name was Landon? If you don’t mind me asking, what is he charged with?”

“Why do you need to know?”

Dick jogs towards the motel, careful to stay out of direct light. The general office looks closed. Most of the windows facing the lot are shielded by salmon colored curtains. There’s only one floor, thankfully. Dick sees door 13. He’s shaking. His fingers are numb.

“My lawyers said they need to know in order to file for a judge to repeal his sentence.”

“Is that so?” the woman asks, suspicion tailing her voice. She takes a drag from her cigarette, contemplating. Dick’s clothes are soaking wet and he cringes every time his shoes squelch against the concrete. He decides crawling is best, ducking under windows and avoiding peepholes. “Fine then. Landon got falsely accused of statutory rape and breaking and entering. Is that what your damn lawyers are looking for?”

“Yes,” Dick breathes. He’s at door 10. He can see a faint glow coming from behind the curtains of room 13. He’s so close. “Thank you.”

He taps on the side of his helmet, sending a series of numbers that he’s sure Barbara will understand.

23-26-8-37

E-N-T-R

He can’t wait any longer.

While crawling, Dick made sure to get a good look at the motel’s doors and hinges. They’re standard, and though both Gotham and Bludhaven tend to have better locks than most other cities, Dick recognizes the model of the door and the wood it’s made out of. They’re thin enough for him to ram through. The hinges on the sides are rusted over as well, and Dick thinks they might just be weak enough to break. The windows however. The windows are his best bet. He doubts this kind of motel invests in bullet proof glass, and on some of the sills, he can see water damage. They leak. Poorly made. Meaning, if he ran at them, he could break through pretty easily.

But, if that doesn’t work. Or if he’s not fast enough to get on his feet once in. Or if the window is directly in front of Jason and the glass breaks all over him. Or if—

Stop. He can’t think about the what-ifs right now. Dick knows he can do this. Knows how to do this. There isn’t any more time to wait. He promised he would get Jason out of there, and goddamnit, he’s going to keep his promise.

“You’re being really quiet,” the woman mutters. “What’s going—”

Dick takes a deep breath and tenses. The light behind the curtain flickers. He needs to move. Now. Now.

Lightning splits across the sky and Dick can’t tell if it’s the glass shattering or the thunder that makes the other-worldly crack but it doesn’t matter because Dick lands feet first and is tucking and rolling before the occupants have a chance to react.

“Oh my god!” someone screams, but Dick isn’t paying attention to them because his gaze zeroes in on his brother, tiny, thirteen year old Jason, who’s tied up on one of the beds and staring right at him.

He can’t linger long though because he hears the words, “Get the gun!”, and he’s up on his feet again, rushing the closest person. It turns out to be the husband, a balding man with a patchy neck-beard, and Dick bunches up his fist and swings, socking the man in the stomach. He doubles over, wheezing, and Dick can see the small pistol in the man’s right hand, and Dick strikes down on his shoulder, kneeing him simultaneously. The pistol drops and so does the man, groaning, and Dick turns to the woman, who is staring at him like an animal cornered.

“Don’t come any closer!” she yells, pocket knife trembling in her grip as she shoves it in Jason’s face. “I’ll stab him, I will!”

Dick holds up his hands, sidestepping the groaning man. “Put the knife down.”

“No!” the woman argues, a strand of black hair falling into her mouth. “Now I told you- stay there! Don’t fucking move or I’ll kill this kid, you hear! I’ll fucking slice his throat open!”

With how scared the woman is, and how precarious she holds the pocket knife, which Dick can see is dull even from where he’s standing, he knows it’s not an idle threat. Scared people will do anything to get out of the situation they’re in. Scared people are unpredictable and dangerous.

But so is Dick.

So is Jason.

“I’m not going to move,” Dick reassures, eyes flickering towards his brother, “so, please, drop the knife. We can talk this out.”

“Talk?” the woman shrills, jerking the knife closer to Jason’s jawline. “You just killed my husband!”

“I didn’t kill him,” Dick corrects. “He’s just unconscious. Come on now. It’s just you and me. Let’s talk this over. I can still get Landon out if you give me back my brother. It’s as easy as that, alright? Just put down the knife, and we’ll talk. Does that sound okay?”

The woman looks like she’s considering it, the hand holding the knife still trembling, when the first sirens enter the lot. Red and blue light flash through the broken window as rain seeps into the curtains.

“You rat!” she screams, furious and terrified and desperate all at once. “You fucking called the cops! You broke—”

She doesn’t get a chance to finish before Jason snaps his head back, headbutting the woman directly in the nose. He falls to the side, getting out of range of the knife, and Dick takes his cue, leaping forwards and gripping the woman’s wrist and squeezing, weapon falling from her grasp. There’s blood spurting from her nose and Dick throws her to the floor, getting her on her stomach and hands behind her back. He sits on top of her, his weight overpowering any strength she has left, and in the next few seconds, police are banging on the door.

“This is the GCPD! Open up and put your weapons down!”

“You can come in!” Dick shouts, holding the squirming woman in place. “We’re unarmed!”

Things happen quickly after the door bangs open, several officers pouring in like the Bludhaven storm. As soon as an officer handcuffs the woman he’s on top of, Dick is rushing to Jason’s side, another officer cutting away his bindings. His younger brother turns to him, about to say something, but Dick cuts him off with a crushing hug, cradling the back of Jason’s head to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Dick whispers, gathering his brother more fully into his arms. “I should’ve been there sooner. God, Jason, I’m so sorry.”

“I-I thought you weren’t going to come for me,” Jason confesses, hiccuping. “When Bruce didn’t pick up, I thought it was because he didn’t want me anymore. I-I told her that, I told her Bruce wasn’t coming but she wouldn’t listen and-and I—”

Dick wraps his arms more securely around the sobbing preteen in response, gently rocking back and forth as the mattress springs squealed under the pressure.

“I know I haven’t always been around,” he says, uncaring about the snot dribbling into his shirt, “and I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t rely on me to come and get you. You’re my brother, though, and I will always come running when you call. No matter what. I promise, Jay. Anywhere, anytime, I promise I’ll be there. Okay?”

“Okay,” Jason wheezes, the adrenaline from before slowly releasing its hold. “I trust you.”

Dick presses his face into his brother’s hair, relief washing over him as his heart slows. He’s never had a sibling before. Things were still tense with Bruce, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a big brother. There isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for this kid in his arms right now.

“What’re brothers for, right?” he mumbles.

The rain doesn’t stop and pours and pours and pours. Dick just holds Jason tighter.

The real storm was over.

Five months later

It’s Thursday.

Time: 11:47 a.m.

The stone is nice. White marble. Shiny. Expensive.

There are fresh flowers. Roses and yellow daisies. The dirt is still new too. Evidence of freshly upturned earth. Dick reaches down and pulls out a weed that’s sprung up at the corner of the stone. Tosses it away.

He doesn’t have flowers. He has a newspaper in his left hand. Reads: Mourning billionaire sets off on trip to Europe.

Jason died a month before he got back from across the universe.

Anywhere, he had said. Anytime. I promise I’ll be there.

He crumples the newspaper into a tight ball and shoves it into his pocket. Stares at the stone. The sun is out. There are no clouds in the sky. It’s nice.

It’s a nice day.

“Fuck,” Dick mutters, a familiar burn in the back of his eyes. “Fuck.”

Anywhere, anytime.

Dick Grayson is an only child once again.

#bad things happen bingo #i have your loved one #dick grayson #dick grayson is nightwing #nightwing #jason todd #jason todd is robin #robin #hurt/comfort #angst #kidnapping #well the hurt/comfort didn't really work out in the end but eh #my fic

[ilovebeing-weird]

Fluffy Saturday 3

Cuddles make everything better

Thanks to @tim-drake-is-underrated who wrote and edited this with me!!! I know this is not a Saturday, but better late than never :D!!!!

Marinette was in pain and she was bleeding. Unfortunately, this was normal and she couldn't do anything other than just woman up and take it. She was on her periods. And it hurt like hell. She had cramps, bad cramps. All she wanted was to die now.

Fortunately, she had beaten Hawkmoth and was on a break right now. In Gotham. She was taking a break in Gotham?! You mean the crime capital, Gotham? Like where the most dangerous villains stay, that Gotham?!

Yes to all of the above. She was on a break in Gotham with her fiance and his family.

She was celebrating with her lovely nerdy fiance Tim and his family. They helped her a lot in discovering who Hawkmoth was. She and Tim met when he was in Paris for a business meeting with MDC, or her. Their meeting went well and soon she was collaborating with Wayne Enterprises.

"Bean? You okay?" Tim came into the room they were sharing in the Wayne Manor.

"No, I am in pain," Marinette said, making grabby hands at him.

"What’s wrong?" Tim climbed into their bed and took her in his lap.

Marinette immediately clung to him. "I am on my periods and I have really bad cramps." Marinette snuggled into Tim's chest while he rubbed her back.

"That sounds hard babe. You know what? Lie down and I'll grab you a hot water bottle. Okay?" Marinette got off his lap with a 'hm' sound and Tim kissed her forehead.

"I love you."

"Love you more Bean." Tim plugged in the heating bag and grabbed some chocolates from the cupboard. "I've heard chocolates help during these times? I don't know how, but do you want some?"

"Where did you know all of this? And yes, I would love some chocolates."

"I do have a sister and some female friends and you're not the first person I have ever dated, Bean."

"Valid." Only someone as sweet as Tim would understand that periods are painful and that the females are not being drama queens when they say that it hurts. That the women or girls are not weak when they are in pain because the cramps are so bad.

"Okay, the bottle is warm now."

"Thanks a lot, Timmy. You're really sweet." Marinette put the bottle on her stomach and Tim gave her the chocolates. She once again made grabby hands at Tim. "Cuddle me. I want cuddles."

"If it will make it better."

"Cuddles make everything better." Before Tim was even fully laid down, Marinette had snuggled into him. "Why are you so adorable Timmy?"

"You think I am adorable?"

"If I didn't think you were adorable I wouldn't have said yes to marrying you." Tim kissed the crown of Marinette's head. It was peaceful for a while before Marinette winced in pain because damn it hurt so much. She snuggled even more into Tim. "I hate it."

"I’m sure it's painful Bean, but it's gonna be okay. Do you need any meds?" Marinette just shook her head.

"Just stay here with me? Physical contact makes it better."

"I got you."

Time passed by and before long Marinette was asleep. He glanced at her and chuckled. She was adorable even when she slept. He took out his phone and began scrolling through it. There were emails about work, a lot of them. He ignored them in favour of admiring his sweet fiancée.

Some time passed and Marinette stirred. Tim looked at her, concerned. She groaned, her face scrunching up in pain. “What’s wrong, Bean?” Tim asked, rubbing her back comfortingly, silently telling her she was not alone and that he’s got her.

"It's really painful. I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep again."

"Do you wanna do something else? Like watch movies?" Tim asked, softly. He wished he could take away her pain. Sadly, he couldn't.

"Yeah, That sounds great." Marinette looked at Tim and she was glad that he was there with her. She didn't know what she'd do without him. "Thanks for always being here with me, Tim. I love you."

"I love you too. I can't wait for us to get married and start a family of our own." Marinette blushed. She had thought about that way many times, but discussing it- it felt real. She was going to be married to the love of her life.

Tim chuckled. He liked messing with her. She always got so flustered and adorable. "You're adorable when you're blushing like that." Marinette playfully shoved him away, groaning in pain from the sudden movement. Tim lost his playful-ness and grew concerned. “Bean?? Is everything okay?? I’m so sorry- did I hurt you??-”

"It's okay mon canard. You can never hurt me. It’s the stupid cramps again. I hate being a woman."

Tim immediately softened up, bringing her more close. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

"Just stay with me? that's all I need." Marinette said, looking into his eyes.

"Of course, Bean. Always. In sickness and in health." He said, tenderly kissing her forehead.

She snuggled up to him, closing her eyes in content. "You're really hot."

Tim smirked. "Thanks, for finally acknowledging the fact."

Marinette looked at him for a minute, before she turned red again "Not like that! I mean you’re warm, silly!"

Tim laughed and looked at her touching his nose to her. "You're adorable, like a chipmunk."

“Tiiiim!” Marinette whined. “How dare you tease me when I’m so miserable!” Tears started flowing out of her eyes. Damn the stupid period hormones.

Tim rushed to comfort her. "I am so sorry, Bean! I didn't mean to make you cry! I was just messing with you! I’m sorry if I said something wrong!" He took her hands off her eyes and gently wiped her tears away. "Don't cry."

She sniffled "I'm sorry, it's just these damn hormones going haywire. I don't know what to do anymore."

"Don't worry about it, I’m here for you." Marinette sniffled again and buried her face in his chest. They stayed like that for a while until Marinette was ready to get up.

"Let's go now," Marinette said, getting up. But, her legs wouldn't let her. They hurt on getting up. She was about to fall, but before she could fall Tim caught her.

"You okay?" Tim asked, concerned. She has to deal with it every month. And she had to deal with it, without him, without any help. That thought alone distressed him.

“It huurts,” She whined. Tim looked at her and decided that he couldn’t let her be in any more pain than she already is in. Without warning her he carried her bridal style. Her head snuggled into his chest.

"You comfy?" Tim asked gently. At her nod, they went out the door. He was going to spoil her till she couldn’t take it anymore. She didn’t deserve any of the pain, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to take her pain away. Now they had one mission, don't let his brothers see them. They were annoying and wouldn't stop teasing his Bean, and she was in no condition to deal with that right now.

They stopped in the kitchen to grab some snacks, hot tea and some chocolates, in case Mari wanted any. “Anything else you want?” He asked, softly looking at the love of his life.

"Your love." Mari said, giggling a little.

"You already have all of it." Tim said back, softly kissing her forehead. If Marinette was not being carried by him she would've fallen on the floor in a puddle of goo from the look he gave her. It was so full of love and adoration, that look was reserved just for her. That thought made her even more happy.

There was a silent atmosphere, before there was a loud bang sound, that startled them. "Die demon spawn!"

"-TT- taking you in was father's biggest mistake!"

"Guys please don't fight."

"Shut up Dickhead!" "Shut up Grayson!"

Marinette involuntarily flinched from the noise, burying herself into Tim to try and block it out. Before Tim could say anything, Dick entered the kitchen. He paused, taking one look at Mari and her face, which was red and blotchy from pain and crying, he made a knowing face which immediately morphed into one of sympathy “Timmy!” He chided. “Put her down. She’s in pain!”

Tim gave Dick a deadpan look “That's why I have carried her, Dick.”

“Well you’re clearly not doing it right! She’s in pain!”

"You don't know anything, Dick. Mari, should I keep you down? Are you uncomfortable?" Mari, who had buried her face in his chest, looked at him.

"If you are tired, but I am not uncomfortable. I like it like this." Tim smirked at Dick.

"But she's crying."

"She is on her period, Dick. She has bad cramps. Now get out of here before I kill you."

“AWWW! MY LITTLE BROTHER’S ALL GROWN UP!!”

“I can’t say the same thing about you. A wife and kid and you’re still 8 years old.”

“hEY!-”

“Shhhhhh” Mari shushed. “My head hurts!”

"Sorry, Bean." Tim said, adjusting her. "Let's go because someone won't leave us alone." He said pointedly looking at Dick. Marinette waved at Dick.

"Hey Sunshine!" It was peaceful once again before an angry Damian came running.

"GRAYSON! I demand that you tell father to emancipate Todd, right this moment!"

"I am not his son anyway! And neither do I care if he throws me out or not. He has done it once, he can do it twice."

"Li'l D, Little wing, is everything okay? And please don't make so much noise."

"Nothing's okay Grayson!"

"Guys, please don't make so much noise."

"Pixie are you okay? Did Tim do anything? Do I need to skin a Red Robin?"

"What did you do to Malaki, Drake! Did you hurt her?!"

"Why does everyone assume that I hurt her? She has cramps and we’re going now. No, you guys cannot come with us." With that said, Tim made his way to the movie room with Mari still in his arms.

He carefully put Marinette down with the snacks and covered her in blankets. The evening went by with Tim catering to Mari’s every need and Mari finally falling asleep, with Tim’s arm protectively draped over her.

#timari #more timari content to digest #they are adorable #i love them #i love their relationship #maribat fluff #tooth rotting fluff #maribat #mlb × dc #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat tim drake #maribat dick grayson #maribat jason todd #maribat damian wayne #timinette #I am dying why are they so cute #they don't have any right to be that adorable #Timari has taken over my life now #I love it #weird writings

[batfamspews]

Red Robin and Jason have been battling each other in an abandoned building for the past fifteen minutes and the fight ended with Jason victorious and Tim flat on his back on the ground. Both of them are bleeding and have several internal wounds.

Jason: *going to jump out of a nearby window* It’s been fun, replacement! Though I have to admit, I think you’re getting a little rusty. You used to be so strategic, but now you’re just pure chaos. I like the change but it makes you pretty easy to beat. Probably should start thinking things through again.

Tim: *deadpan, unflinching, staring at the ceiling*

Jason: *Confused because just a couple of seconds ago Tim was bustling with squirrel-like energy* Hey man, you good?

Tim: Yeah man just rethinking my life.

Jason: Ah. *goes to jump out the window but then hesitates and looks back at Tim. Not a single muscle in his body has flinched. Jason figures he had better stick around and keep an eye on him since he’s pretty sure he heard bones breaking during their fight and he wants to make sure he didn’t paralyze or give Tim brain damage.* You wanna talk about it? *goes and sits down next to Tim*

Tim: Eh, life sucks, you know? Fight all night, work all day, study. I’m supposed to be the smart one, right? What if I can’t keep up? What if I crack and lose it? What if someone smarter comes along? Besides, I can’t help but feel like I’m just ticking every one off.

Jason: *surprised but slightly amused that his straight-rod, genius brother would have such a poor opinion of himself* Heeeey, come on, little Red! You don’t suck that much! I mean, I do get sick and tired of your virtuous crap every once and a while, hence me beating you to a bloody pulp right now, but you’ve got a good head and heart! What’s making you feel so down?

Tim: …

Tim: Tried to make supper the other night. Alfred got food poisoning. He’s still in the hospital.

Jason: So you’re guilty?

Tim: *smiles* Yes but that’s just a part of it. I’m in charge of making my own food now, but since I’m scared that I’ll poison myself I’ve only been drinking a concoction I made up a while ago that I know won’t kill me.

Jason: Yeah? What?

Tim: Iced coffee made with Red Bull instead of water.

Jason: …

Jason: ……. .. . …

Jason: That sounds disgusting

Tim: It absolutely is.

Jason: How long has this been going on?

Tim: About a week?

Jason: ??? And that’s all you’ve had?

Tim: I mean, I ate some Nachos last night and I have an emergency stash of pop tarts in my room that I finished off the first two days.

Jason: ???????

Jason: AND YOU DONT EAT OUT WHY???

Tim: *shrugs* The Red Bull iced coffee gives me energy. Kinda sucks though because I crash when it wares off and have another identity crisis. I should really get some more before the tremors.

Jason: CHRIST TIMOTHY I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE SMART???

Tim: You know, there’s a line between intelligence and wisdom- oh crap here they come. Totally jinxed myself.

*Jason stares in disbelief as Tim’s whole body starts shaking. He start to say something but Tim- doubled over in pain- holds up a hand to make him wait. The tremors stop after a few seconds.*

Tim: I should probably grab some more coffee or something before that happens again. You wouldn’t happen to have an energy drink on you, wouldja? I’d get some myself, but I’m pretty sure you broke something in my leg and it hurts to move it.

Jason: For the love of God, Tim, you need professional help. Call Bruce to come pick you up???

Tim: I don’t really feel like talking to Bruce right now. I don’t want to get lectured again.

Jason: …

Jason: Fair enough, but I’m not leaving you here like this. I may not be an exceptional brother or anything but I’m pretty sure it would be considered child abuse if I let you torture yourself this way.

Tim: *laughs* you just broke my bones and beat me into submission.

Jason: you were being annoying.

Tim: And besides, Bruce doesn’t stop me.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR ONE SECOND THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU PUT ME ON THE SAME LEVEL AS THAT MAN THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG. *Basically picks Tim up*

Tim: ??? Where are we going?

Jason: TO MY APARTMENT SO YOU CAN GET THE PROFESSIONAL CARE THAT YOU REALLY NEED.

Tim: Bruce is gonna be ticked. I’ve still got another hour on patrol.

Jason: IF YOU THINK FOR A SINGLE GOSHDANG MOMENT THAT IM GOING TO LET YOU STAY OUT HERE WITH A BROKEN BONE AND CAFFEINE-INDUCED SEIZURES THEN YOU ARE DEAD WRONG!

Tim: I don’t wanna tell him that-

Jason: GOOD BECAUSE I DO. HOLY COW, TIM, ARE THE OTHERS AS BAD OFF AS YOU ARE?

Tim: I mean? Dick’s been out of town so I’m gonna assume he’s doing fine. The Kents have invited Damian’s vegan butt into their household until Alfred recovers. Pretty sure Babs, Steph and Cass are surviving on hot pockets and chicken nuggets.

Jason: NOT MY GOOD GOOD GIRLS! That’s it, you’re coming home with me and are not leaving until you are fully recovered. I’m gonna call the girls too. Tonight you four are going to have a round, home cooked meal. *carries him down the stairs* Geez, kid, you’re skin and bones. On no accounts should you be this light. And you look like a zombie! Is this just the malnutrition, or are you not sleeping either?

Tim: I mean, I’ve passed out a couple of times…

Jason: TIMOTHY DRAKE WAINE

Tim: The caffeine made sleeping virtually impossible, though now that it’s wearing off I do feel a bit drowsy…

Jason: Normally I would not give an idiot like you the permission to rest while I’m helping them out but for the love of everything that is holy, Timothy, go to sleep!

Tim: Dope. *immediately passes out*

Jason brings Tim to his apartment and puts him on the couch. Jason already has a nutritious vegetable and beef stir fry ready for the girls when they arrive. He’s also made broth that Cass spoon-feeds Tim when he wakes up shaking. They’ve all turned off their coms, so when Batman desperately calls Red-Hood’s home phone for help, Jason tells him what a horrible father he’s been lately and that even a problem child like himself would make a better parent. Cass, Steph and Babs leave after supper, but have agreed with Jason to eat lunch and supper at his place until Alfred got back. Jason called Nightwing up, told him the situation and asked him to come back to Gotham to deal with Bruce. The next morning Jason brought Tim to the hospital to get an X-ray done on his leg. When they found out it was fractured, Jason arranged for a very exhausted but thankful Tim to stay at his apartment until it healed, even when Alfred recovered. During that period he was able to break Tim’s eating habits and introduce him to healthier options. According to Jason, “I might be a ‘danger to society’ and a ‘homicidal maniac,’ but at least I can make a half decent home cooked meal for my poor starving siblings!”

#dc #dc comics #batman #batfam #bat kids #robin #batman and robin #jason todd #red hood #timothy drake #tim drake #red robin #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #cass cain #black bat #stephanie brown #spoiler #barbra gordon #batgirl #oracle #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #text post