࣪ ִ☾.⋆✮ venus ✮⋆ ִ☾.࣪

23 | she/they canon isn’t real to me

[black-cat-luck]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 . welcome to my bat cave .𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

you can call me Venus!

I will be writing for the many fandoms I am in, and maybe even some oc work, we’ll see what the future holds!

this account started as just a DC fan account, but I am a man of many obsessions and will be writing for whatever fandom I enjoy, everything will be tagged by its fandom and characters, and I will create master lists to keep it all organized! As of now, my only published writing is DC and JJK, I will update this as my works are updated :3

some of my work is 18+, minors pls don’t interact with anything tagged nsfw, everything will be tagged accordingly so my sfw works will still be viewable

(´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) ♡

I am simply writing for fun, I don’t follow much canon, I cherry pick what I like and write how I like, if you don’t enjoy my writing you don’t have to read it! if you want to file a complaint dm me and I’ll give you my venmo and you can pay the $20 complaint fee. ( ˘ ³˘)

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[black-cat-luck]

something something royalty abo itafushi

where neither of them presented as their expected genders. Yuji is too big, too loud, too rowdy to be an omega. Megumi is too slim, too quiet, too calculated to be an alpha. If it weren’t for how scary he can be when upset, Megumi would be every sign for a traditional omega. Yuji knows he’s destined to die alone because no alpha would ever want him, Megumi is the only one who’s ever successfully made him bow down and it wasn’t anything near serious, so of course Yuji doesn’t have high expectations when his best friend clearly can barely even stand him.

Being invited to Megumi’s coronation was to be expected. The son of two of the highest clans, the next alpha, Yuji’s happy to support him. Yuji has come to learn of his own important lineage, something about a mother and uncle, whatever. He just wants to support Megumi, and scowl at the omega he’s given that doesn’t deserve him. Yuji isn’t expecting to be told to wear white. To shower with only water so his scent is strong. To walk through the main doors alone.

Megumi looks a wreck. Not that anyone but Yuji would be able to see, but he’s clearly stressed. Yuji doesn’t care for proper ettiquite and rushes to his side, grabbing his hands rudely and yanking him close. There’s gasps and whispers, how disrespectful of an omega to manhandle an alpha—but Megumi leans closer, barely even noticeable, is soothed by Yuji’s scent as it finally surrounds him.

“Gojo said he knew for-sure but I still didn’t believe him, it’s been eating me alive and I couldn’t stand that I couldn’t talk to you, that I couldn’t hear it from you, that I had to wait until this, that we can’t be alone, but Gojo said he was sure, he said he knew for a fact, and you’re here. You’re here.” Megumi breathes out, finally looking Yuji in the eyes, his shining with something Yuji’s never seen. Then it clicks. Like dominoes all falling. His omega purrs before he can respond, grinning annoyingly wide as he holds Megumi’s hands tighter. “Me? You chose me?” He giggles, far louder than he should be in this moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot, everything an omega shouldn’t be, by all the people around them’s standards, everything that should be a glaring red sign that tells Megumi to run.

“Of course you, you idiot.” Megumi punches his arm, true to their mistake fashion, and Yuji giggles, leaning down and kissing him. It’s wrong, the kiss is more teeth than anything, Megumi should’ve kissed first, Yuji shouldn’t be taking any form of control, but Megumi leans into it, holds him closer, sighs happily against his lips. They were far from perfect by anyone else’s eyes, but to each other, there was nothing that could be better.

[black-cat-luck]

I think it’s sooo unfair how robbed we were of Gojo finding out about Toji getting reincarnated in Shibuya. Realistically there was no one that could tell him, Nanami dead, Naobito the ONLY person who would even recognize him, dead, Maki dgaf about some random guy enough to mention him, and Gojo never got to reunite with Megumi for him to tell him so he just never found out.

But I like to think in the airport, after the sudden shock of everything, Gojo is PISSED when he sees Toji in heaven. So pissed he wants to beat the shit out of him just for the audacity of BEING here when he doesn’t deserve to be. Geto calms him down, it’s the afterlife, their lives are over, just let it rest, it’s done, whatever. Then Nanami chimes in “who is he? He was a really weird help in Shibuya, then he went after Megumi and I never knew what happened after that.”

Gojo and Geto both look at Nanami like he grew three heads.

“What?” “Shibuya?” They speak at the same time, Gojo’s nails are digging into his palm as Nanami looks nervous, knowing something not good is coming.

“Yeah I don’t know we were fighting that octopus curse and Megumi opened his domain enough for us to escape, and this guy just came in, exorcised the curse, and when we got out he attacked Megumi, but then the volcano head lit us up so I never found out what happened after, I didn’t understand why he exorcised the curse we were fighting then went after one of us but-“ Nanami stops talking when Gojo just walks away. He feels disrespected, irritated that Gojo is still disregarding him even dead, but then his emotions entirely change when Gojo yanks the man away from his wife, and just starts beating the shit out of him.

“Satoru!” Geto rushes over, Nanami and Haibara just a step behind him. “How dare you think you deserve anything after what you’ve done, how dare you put your hands on my kid?!” Gojo has never looked so angry, pure violence as he punches Toji over, and over. The man stopped fighting back when he’d realized why Gojo attacked him, though he still defends himself. “I don’t know why I was brought back. I didn’t know it was him.” Toji sneers through bloody teeth, struggling to hold Gojo’s hands back. It’s almost comical how Gojo is seventeen again, Toji twenty something, and Gojo is stronger now, getting his hand free to punch him again.

“You sorry piece of shit you only ever went after kids, too fucking weak to attack anyone else, you get revived and the first thing you do is attack your own fifteen year old son?!? You fucking bastard!” Gojo is still kicking as Nanami and Geto finally yank him off of the man, they struggle to hold him back, Haibara stands between Gojo and Toji, who’s just stumbled back up to his feet. “He’s not fuckin’ weak, he was my son, he can handle himself just fine.” Toji snaps, his wife grabs his arm, keeping him from going after Gojo. “You sad excuse of a man he didn’t give a shit about you, didn’t even care to know what the fuck ever happened to you, he was my kid more than he was ever yours! God you’re lucky I can’t kill you again! You pathetic—“ Gojo is shaking, struggling to get his words out. “You were nothing to him. Just a sorry excuse of a person who abandoned him and his sister, you wait out your undeserving time and see who he cares about when his time comes.” Gojo sneers, he finally stops fighting, and turns, storming off, still fuming in anger. Toji storms off the other way, making Geto sigh, wondering how long this afterlife is going to last.

True to Gojo’s word, sixty years later Megumi happily hugs him when they reunite, hiding his emotions in his truest fashion, it’s not til they pull away that he glances at Toji and his mother, he looks away, face expressionless. “Megumi, that’s your mom and dad.” Gojo introduces them, despite his complete desire not to. Megumi looks at them again, something unreadable in his eyes, then just like before, he turns back to Gojo. “Where’s Tsumiki?”

It’s a good thing eternity lasts so long, Megumi won’t be warming up to Toji or wanting to hear his excuses for a long time. When he learns that his mother died and didn’t abandon him, he’s happy to reconcile and get to know her, but Toji will definitely be waiting a while, he’s got his real dad here with him, he doesn’t care to know the other.

[black-cat-luck]

“Long time no see, Megumi.”

The sound of his voice makes Megumi freeze, heart dropping as he slowly turns, eyes widening as he sees Gojo standing just a few feet away, a shy smile on his face as he runs his hand through his own hair. “Geez you got old, I’m just kidding you look young again, not sure why that happens when you come here, but anyway, was it your time? You didn’t go too early did you? Man it feels like forever but at the same time it feels like just yesterday. It can’t have been that long already has it?” Gojo keeps talking, true to who he always was, even as Megumi stays unable to speak, throat dry and mouth open as he stares, all he can do is stare because Gojo is right there.

So he’s dead, that’s fine. He knew he was dying, he lived an honest life, he thinks he had a good enough life to die when he did. That doesn’t bother him, but Gojo…Gojo looks young. Had he always been that young? He barely got to grow up. Megumi outlived him by decades and he remembers being twenty eight, he remembers how young that was, just barely not a kid anymore and Gojo was that young when he died. Not like he had to grow old for his hair to go white but god did he deserve to. Megumi knew how it felt to grow old, and he got to die of old age and live a happy, safe life with his loved ones and Gojo didn’t even get to turn thirty. Gojo died violent and angry and probably scared, tossed aside like a broken toy because he was only ever useful when he was strong and he died so long ago.

“What, not gonna say anything? Is it death shock?” Gojo teases. “Oh no I get it you forgot all about me, pfft, you lived a long time kid, doesn’t surprise me.” He’s joking, Megumi can tell by his voice, and yet he feels hurt by it, he can feel Gojo’s hurt, as if he’s begging Megumi to say otherwise.

He only knew Gojo for maybe ten years. He killed his real father, threw him into the jujutsu society just like he was, a pawn thanks to his ability he didn’t ask for, and then Gojo died and everyone moved on. Six decades be spent living his life, growing old, marrying your best friend, having children, and forgetting all about some teacher he barely knew.

Why would anyone remember Satoru Gojo?

Megumi launches himself forward and crashes into Gojo. Ever his fault, Gojo is taken off guard, and falls, wrapping his arms around Megumi as his eyes widen in surprise. “Hey, kid I was just joking.” Gojo tries to laugh, but his throat is thick and tears are already stinging his eyes. Megumi still won’t speak, he just buries his face in Gojo’s shirt and cries silently, hands shaking as he clings to him, as if he’s scared letting go will take Gojo from him again.

The last time we hugged we were on the battlefield and I never got to tell you I’m sorry.

Gojo rubs his back softly, and hides his face in Megumi’s hair, holding him close.

There was supposed to be an exasperated sigh, annoyance and complaints over Gojo still annoying him even dead, over him being trapped with him in the afterlife when he had a real father somewhere here he could see, not just him.

But Megumi spent six decades mourning him, six decades of regret and guilt so heavy it made him sick, and finally getting to see him again means more than he could ever ask for, so he won’t ruin the moment with arguing or complaining, not right now.

Right now he’s sixteen again, his dad is holding him, and promising he won’t be taken from him ever again. Megumi lived a long happy life, and he’s prepared for a long happy afterlife where they don’t have to suffer or lose one another.

[black-cat-luck]

The Only One I’d Anything

Is Suguru In Drag

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

The most unfair fate you could’ve ever received in life, is laid out in front of you, night after night. It’s a cool autumn, a thick comforter keeps you warm enough that the window can sit open and let the breeze in, the moon shining so brightly for you, illuminating your room in a way that would usually be too obnoxiously bright to sleep, but you always had something—someone to block the light from you. To bury your face against and not have to see the moonlight.

Satoru is sleeping beside you. Looking as effortlessly ethereal as he always does. His long lashes rest on his cheeks as he sleeps, his hair disheveled and sticking up in odd spots, lips a bit swollen and slightly parted, his breathing almost impossible to hear. But you’re too focused, too aware, too lost in your own guilt and self hatred.

He doesn’t want you. The echo rings in your mind over and over, despite lying in bed naked together, despite still having a mess between your thighs that would make anyone else think differently, you know better. You’ve always known better. He doesn’t want you. You’ve known it since the day you met him.

You didn’t get along very well with Satoru and Suguru when you first met them. You were timid, nervous, not sure how to make new friends when you first walked into jujutsu high. They’d all just barely met each other as well, but there was something instant about them, something that made it feel like they’d known each other for decades, that they were destined to meet. You and Shoko became close, but even she got closer with the boys that were attached at the hip, and you were still too awkward to try and be friends with them, you didn’t know how.

That was until you got a mission with Suguru. It was intimidating, you didn’t know why you were sent anyway, when you weren’t a special grade, surely he should’ve been teamed up with Satoru and left you alone to handle the weaker curses that were child’s play for them?

But Suguru is nice. Sickeningly sweet. He deals with the curse without you even having to lift a finger, and even after he consumes it, even though you know he’s uncomfortable and disgusted, and he has every right to mock this mission, the ease of it, the way a special grade like him was sent to babysit you to exercise a low grade curse that was embarrassingly easy for him? He doesn’t mock it, he doesn’t do anything but smile and ask if you want to go get food before heading back. You nervously nod and follow him through the small city as he chats casually, he tells you about a nice ramen restaurant just around the corner, how Satoru and him found it a few weeks ago on one of their missions, and they also have some of the best mochi around.

He pays for your food, he even orders some mochi to take back to Satoru, and Shoko, after you make sure he remembers her, not wanting to leave her out. He talks to you easily, effortlessly, like you’re as much of his friend as Satoru and Shoko are. It helps your nerves, it makes you loosen up, happily chatting now, feeling comfortable, confident. It feels natural.

Satoru is on his own mission and Shoko is asleep when you return. You’re giggling off some joke as he walks you to your room, it was just meant to be an act of good manner, ensuring you got to bed safely, Suguru just intended to see you dropped off safe and sound.

Satoru wasn’t happy to find him in your bed. When he returned and couldn’t find Suguru, he thought it was incredulous that Suguru would be with you, and yet when he yanked the door open, without even knocking, there he was, naked and curled up around you, fast asleep.

You were terrified, humiliated and ashamed, apologizing profusely, until Suguru stopped you while laughing. Sorry for what? Me and Satoru aren’t dating, he’s just being funny.

You can tell those words are not how Satoru feels. He’s cold toward you after that, doesn’t want to be friendly, doesn’t want to get to know you. Suguru however, does.

There’s never an actual relationship. You and Suguru just mess around, and Shoko even starts to joke how you’re both so much alike, your personalities the same, even with the more time you spend together you start to look alike, small features that belong to each other start getting noticed. It wasn’t anything serious, nothing had to be serious, you were just kids, you were just fooling around. It was your fault for falling in love with him, and just like Satoru, you knew better than to ever admit it.

Satoru found you first after he defected. You’re sitting on Suguru’s bed, a shirt bunched up in your hands, eyes too dry to shed any more tears. You’re immediately on defense, afraid he’s going to yell or try and force you out of the room, try and take claim over it because he meant more to Suguru than you ever did.

He sits beside you. It’s quiet for an hour, neither of you even look at each other, and you find the strength to leave the room without even acknowledging him, Suguru’s shirt still clutched in your hands.

You don’t talk for days. You hardly even see him, and when you do it’s just in silent passing. It doesn’t matter. You’re busy, he’s busy, why would it matter? You weren’t friends.

His shirt? Your eyes widen as you look at Satoru, startled so bad you nearly drop the bag you’re holding. You look down, face falling as you see one of Suguru’s favorite shirts on you, as if you hadn’t picked it up and put it on yourself. You can’t find a hint of anger or jealousy, Satoru just stares. Your hairs tied up too.

You know that. It’s Suguru’s hair tie. You did his hair so often, even sometimes just making him sit so you could play with it, giving him braids or buns, just running your fingers through it, or scratching at his scalp in a way that made him purr. He’d left so many hair ties all around, of course you still had some.

You were making soba for dinner. Satoru accepts the invite. Neither of you mention it.

It’s awkward. He doesn’t talk like Suguru does, and you haven’t since he left. You just eat, your fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, he reaches over and fixes a stray hair that falls loose. You feel overwhelmed in every possible way, and you know it’s wrong, and so does he, but neither of you care.

You’re not Suguru. Neither of you have to say it, but it screams through your walls, through both of your eyes, as your hands burn across each other skin. It doesn’t feel right, but you pull each other closer, your nails draw blood in a desperate attempt to not let each other escape, to not let go, to not give you enough space to leave like he did.

You can’t look at each other. You can’t find any words to say. You fall asleep facing opposite directions. He’s gone when you wake up.

A week later you fall asleep in his bed, and then every night after, you just stay. It’s comforting, it’s humiliating, but neither of you are willing to give it up. You’re angry, at Suguru, at each other, at the world. You take it out on one another, there’s screaming fights, hate sex, cursing the world for putting either of you through this, for being stupid enough to do this with each other because you couldn’t get over him.

It doesn’t matter, neither of you are strong enough to move on. To you Satoru is everything that was Suguru’s other half. His joy, his childlike happiness and carefree attitude, his heart, everything Suguru kept hidden from anyone but you two. To Satoru, you were everything he hated. The same attitude, same voice pattern, same look, you were everything Suguru wanted. You were the one Suguru looked into the eyes of and saw more than anything Satoru could’ve ever offered him. You were chosen by Suguru, you were obsessed by Suguru, you were fucked by Suguru.

Satoru can never swallow down that jealousy. He’ll die with it as a burning rage in his veins because Suguru wanted you, and the closest Satoru ever came to having him was by being inside you the same way he was.

You and Satoru hated each other, and neither of you will ever be strong enough to walk away. It didn’t matter, you were both content in a way, willing to give up on everything else, because even though it was each other that you came home too, you were coming home to Suguru too. Each other half of him, it was all you had left.

What a twisted curse it was to love Suguru Geto.

[black-cat-luck]

Anything But This

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

Fifteen years after watching the love of his life walk out the door Bruce is given a second chance, and he’s not letting go this time.

Ongoing Chapters

Main Tags: Angst, Bruce Wayne/Original

Female Characters, Batfamily, OC x Canon,

Angst with a happy ending.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[black-cat-luck]

Body, Mind, and Soul

Suguru just really wants Satoru to relax.

pairing: Satosugu / Gego / GojoxGeto

genre: fluff, sfw.

w/c: 1.8k

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎

Satoru shivers as a hand slides up his front, fingertips and sternum separated by a thin layer of fabric, his heart pounding against his rib cage, back arching slightly, his entire body tense, and reacting to the single touch. “Shh, it’s alright.” Suguru whispers, his lips ghosting over the shell of Satoru’s ear, it only causes a more physical reaction out of him, fingers twitching as he inhales sharply. “I don’t think I’m enjoying this.” Satoru manages out, he’s starting to feel overwhelmed, overstimulated.

“Of course you’re not, have you ever been allowed to really feel like this?” Suguru laughs softly, hand caressing Satoru’s side, running gently down it, and back up again. “No.” Satoru’s voice is quieter now. He hasn’t, they both know he hasn’t. Who would’ve ever let him completely power down, shut himself off, for even just a moment?

“I just don’t get why I have to be blindfolded while you get to see all of me.” Satoru squirms, pouting as Suguru laughs, leaning back slightly. Satoru feels the shift in the bed, the way Suguru’s body is no longer completely pressed against him. “You’re fully clothed Toru, what am I seeing?” He teases, hand moving lower, gently massaging Satoru’s thigh, any argument the older has dies on his tongue, it’s a foreign feeling to him, but he feels even the slightest amounts of pressure, every dip in his flesh from where Suguru’s slender fingers press into, massage gently, and trace over. Like he’s drawing each vein under his skin, tracing stretch marks, and circling a small birthmark only he’s ever seen, knowing exactly where it is, even with two layers of fabric between his thumb and Satoru’s hip.

“You deserve nice things Toru, you deserve gentleness. Care, warmth.” Suguru lifts his hand, tracing the lines in his palm, he presses a soft kiss to his wrist. “I get plenty of that without being blindfolded.” Satoru huffs, despite his arguments, his body has gone lax, muscles loose and heart slowed, he’s let Suguru continue, he hasn’t once dared to ask him to stop.

Suguru leans closer to his body again, caressing Satoru’s neck gently, not missing the way he jumps at the touch, adams apple bobbing as Suguru gently rubs his hand over it. “You say that as if the blindfold wasn’t the entire reason. Could you truly feel this if you could see it all?” He asks, he’s not looking for an answer, he’s trying to place one inside Satoru’s head for himself. It makes the white haired boy sink deeper into the mattress, a bit embarrassed, watching his question circle in his mind like a music box ballerina twirls.

There was a reason for this. Satoru reminds himself, as if he had forgotten. His six eyes make everything so intense for him, so much stronger than any other person experiences the world, Satoru will always see and feel things more than anyone else will. So Suguru wanted to take some of it from him. Let him give Satoru those feelings, without them being so intense.

You want to give me a massage? Satoru had teased, not understanding the depth of Suguru’s request.

No, I want to shut you down from the world, I want to make you feel like the weight of the world’s expectations aren’t all on your shoulders, even for just one minute. Suguru replied, tone and expression serious. I want to give you this. I want to see you truly, truly relax.

So now here Satoru was; lying in Suguru’s bed, hands laid above him, not tied down, despite Suguru threatening to if he didn’t stay still, but Satoru listened. Suguru wanted this, so he would give it to him. He still didn’t quite understand what this meant to Suguru, he still didn’t feel so sure about an eyemask being laid over his eyes so he couldn’t see anything, but he wouldn’t question Suguru. He agreed to give him this, so he would follow through with it, no matter how nervous or uncomfy he may be.

But that’s where Satoru kept messing up. This was never for Suguru. Not when he suggested it, not when he demanded it be in his room, not Satoru’s. Or when he went out and bought unscented candles so that the lights in the room weren’t on, when he bought a new record of the softest music he could find to play on the lowest volume. When he spent those two days putting unscented lotion on his hands so they would be soft, not rugged or dry, and didn’t put any kind of perfume on, or detergent on his clothes.

He knows Satoru’s ability makes everything stronger than Suguru could ever even dream of sensing, and he knows Satoru would never discuss how overwhelming it could be, but Suguru never needed words. He watched how Satoru unknowingly sniffed the air, and how his shoulders were less tense when the room smelt like nothing but Suguru. He watched the way his ears twitched when the music was turned on so low Suguru couldn’t even hear it, but Satoru could, and it was such a soft volume it was comfortable to him. He watched as even while his face was scrunched in worry as the eyemask covered his eyes, once Suguru turned the room lights off, when the room was dark and only had a few candles lit for light, Satoru’s face was less scrunched, eyebrows no longer lifted. Suguru watched Satoru relax completely, in a way he’d never seen before.

This was what Suguru wanted. To see Satoru unwind, completely. To watch him feel comfortable, safe. To give him the gentleness he deserves. The massage wasn’t necessary, Suguru did know that. But when he started, when his hands first gently cupped Satoru’s face, and left the softest kiss to the tip of his nose, Suguru realized it was.

Turning off his infinity just enough to allow Suguru into it was a second nature to Satoru, came to him as easily as breathing, but to caress his softest spots, whisper the sweetest words he could think of, to truly feel Satoru’s body lose every ounce of tension and stress, he felt his infinity completely fall, not a bit of him still feeling in need of power, of control, needing to use his six eyes for anything.

Because if there was anything in this world Satoru knew better than his six eyes, it was Suguru.

“You’re spending too long in there.” Suguru taps against Satoru’s forehead, startling him at how harsh the touch felt compared to how gentle he’s been this whole time. “You wanted me to think.” He whines, pouting as Suguru laughs, pressing a kiss over the spot he tapped. “Not for that long, it got quiet in here.” Suguru hums, going back to his fingers gently massaging Satoru’s bicep. “You always tell me I need to be more quiet.” He retorts, tone mocking.

“Hm, I guess you’ve got me there.” Suguru sighs, he feels Gojo’s infinity circling him, caressing against him in such a familiar way, almost threatening to tighten, to pull Suguru closer. “How are you feeling?” Suguru asks, hands gently massaging his shoulders. Satoru lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good? I think.” He replies, his fingers twitch again, and Suguru runs his hands up his biceps, massaging at the skin as his fingers slide over every inch of his arms. “Your infinity was off for a long time.” He tells Satoru, unsure if he noticed. “Yeah I felt it go back up when you startled me.” He laughs softly, trying to turn it off, but he’s too focused on it now, too focused on the way he feels it taking shape around Suguru, holding every inch of him the way he longs to.

“I’m sorry.” Suguru hums, he’s reached Satoru’s hands now, intertwining their fingers, and lowering his arms back down to his sides. “Don’t be.” Satoru whispers, swallowing thickly as Suguru lies his right arm over himself, and holds his left arm in both of his hands, his own left hand holds Satoru’s as his right rubs up his arm gently. “You’re so soft Toru.” Suguru murmurs, mostly talking to himself as he leans closer, lifting Satoru’s arm more until his fingertips ghost over Suguru’s cheek, his hand twitches, and Suguru unlaces their fingers, pressing his cheek into Satoru’s palm. “I know you wanted me to relax.” Satoru whispers, thumb gently rubbing Suguru’s cheekbone.

“But this is probably the strongest I’ve ever….felt.” Satoru laughs at himself, not finding the words he wanted to use. “Felt?” Suguru laughs with him, kissing the pad of his thumb as it ghosts over his lips. “Yeah.” Satoru exhales, closing his eyes. “All I feel is you.” He whispers, hand slipping from Suguru’s face. Suguru gently catches him by the wrist, pressing a kiss to his pulse point as he lays his arm over his stomach just like his left.

“All I ever want to feel is you.” Satoru whispers as Suguru leans over him, kissing his forehead, just once, then kissing down his jawline, under his ear, and down his neck. He holds himself above Satoru, moving himself lower as he traces his body with his lips, it’s sensual, soft, comforting. He slows down as he reaches his neck again, nose tucked into his collar as he moves slower, makes the kisses last longer, breathing in Satoru’s scent as he brings his hands up his body, softly running over his stomach and chest, and then cupping Satoru’s face in both hands, pressing his final kiss against his lips.

“How I adore you, my Satoru.” Suguru whispers, letting his fingers run through his hair, he hooks his finger through the eye mask, about to pull it off when Satoru grabs his wrist, gentle, but enough to stop him. “Leave it?” He asks, voice barely heard. “Just for a little longer.” He sounds pleading, even as his voice remains so soft Suguru barely hears it, he can tell, just by watching his face, he can tell everything Satoru feels. “Anything for you.” He murmurs, cupping his face and kissing him again.

Satoru wraps his arms around Suguru, pulling him impossibly closer, making his body fall completely onto him, hands moving back to his hair as the kiss gets more passionate, as Suguru licks inside of his mouth, inviting himself into every inch of Satoru, body pressing him down into the mattress, weighing him down, leaving Satoru completely trapped under him, legs locked together, fingers gripping the hair at the base of his skull, and sharing the same breath, hearts sharing a beat.

They were together, intertwined, inseparable. Suguru wanted Satoru to feel completely bare to the world, without any pressure crushing him, making him an object to be observed, a weapon to be wielded. And the only way Satoru could ever feel like he was more than his gift, was with Suguru, his touch, his voice, his scent. Suguru engulfed Satoru completely, body, mind, and soul, and Satoru couldn’t be happier.

[black-cat-luck]

my opinion never means much as a huge comic and superhero fan because of bias but seeing how superhero’s are finally being superhero’s again makes me so happy.

Saw a whole little family finish a 5K marathon today, and after running through the huge wall of bubbles a little boy yells “ITS CLOBBERING TIME”

Went to the store the other day in my Superman shirt and a little old man excitedly pointed at me and said “Supergirl!”

I’m just so happy. yes it is clobbering time buddy. yes I am Supergirl sir. Superhero’s are Superhero’s again, they’re fun and bright and colorful and little kids are getting to see them for what they’ve always been!!

[black-cat-luck]

The watch tower is deathly silent. Several weapons are gripped so tight the fingers around them are losing color, harsh breathing as sweat drips down temples. Legs have just barely stopped kicking, teeth no longer barred. Everyone is frozen in place, as Batman, still holding Red Hood two feet off the floor by his scruff, sighs exasperatedly. “I thought-“ his voice is rough, teeth grit as the few that had been fighting all look at him. “We had gone over this.” He spits, shoving Red Hood away. The taller than Bat crime lord stumbles, and corrects himself, looking furious, but keeping himself small, backed away from Batman as Artemis and Roy step in front of him. “You were to inform your teams of your connections.” He turns his glare to a boy in blue, blood dripping from his nose as he sneers back to the Bat. “Our identity is our law, it is never shared—“ “and how do you feel now that you have had your brother’s teammates attacking each other?” Batman’s voice is still barely audible, but it goes heard by everyone. Several gasps resounding.

“Father-“ another few gasps as Robin steps forward. “You are excused Robin, you were not a part of this.” Batman steps away from him. He’s closer to Red Robin now, Superboy and Impulse guard him like dogs, but Red Robin shoos them away, standing up as he cradles a bruised jaw. “You attacked Red Hood.” Batman tells him. “He had it comin’.” Red Robin huffs, the room doesn’t breathe. “You attacked a partner, in a room full of teams who do not know your relationship, and proceeded to attack each other.” He reiterates, and Red Robin rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know Nightwing would get involved?” He scoffs. “Because Nightwing always gets involved when you two bicker.” Batman snaps, and Red Robin shrinks down, avoiding his eyes.

Batman slowly backs up, inhaling sharply as he faces everyone. It was a city wide attack, one where they had to call in every amount of help they could get. The Justice League, Teen Titans, The Outlaws all in the same room for the first time. The Watchtower is full to the brim of heroes and metas, many of whom just turned on each other in a desperate attempt to protect their respective leaders.

“Was anyone injured?” Batman asks. Nobody raises their hands, even when Flash lightly nudges Nightwing, he keeps his hands down. “Good.” Batman redirects his glare. “Boys.” He snaps the word, the three of them straighten out immediately. “Apologize to your teams, that you caused such a headache, because you wanted to punch your brother.” As soon as he says it the air is returned to the room, Spoiler is the first to laugh, doubling over as the others cover their mouths, giggling as the tension eases.

“Wait you’re actually related? Like you’re not just sometimes partners that all like bird names?” Flash asks, pulling away from where he’d leaned against Nightwing, who’s holding his head in his hands, shaking it silently. “Well now that, that’s settled.” Red Hood walks over and punches Red Robin. “YOU DROPPED YOUR GUARD HOW IS THAT MY FAULT?!” Red Hood yells as Red Robin lunges at him, the two of them tussling on the ground as they punch and kick at each other.

“Leave them.” Nightwing orders, even those he’s not a leader to, every team listens, watching the two fight. “They’ll get it out of their systems. Place your bets, they’re both injured either could win.” He sighs, resting his chin on his palm as everyone laughs, feeling better now that everyone has calmed down. “Batgirl.” Batman calls gently. The girl looks up silently, and he nods to them. “Break it up in five.” Batman tells her, she nods and continues watching them, while he turns to Robin. “Idiotic children.” Robin huffs. Spoiler and Signal move closer to watch as Oracle calls for those not fighting to debrief the mission.

Eventually Red Robin and Red Hood come join them, teeth bloody and shoving each other once more until Batgirl steps between them, walking silently, but a strong enough presence neither of them would continue a fight with her between them.

The teams still whisper, still watch with amazed wide eyes as they see every team get tied together in front of their eyes. Batman, one of the leaders of the league, and the younger teams, the younger vigilantes, all being their own respective leaders, and brothers.

Superboy really wished he hadn’t punched Nightwing trying to defend Red Robin, it was going to be an awkward debrief now.

[black-cat-luck]

Happy Fathers Day

“Hey B.” The silence of the cave was interrupted by the boys voice. Bruce had known he was here since the second he stepped foot inside, but he remained quiet, waited for the boy to say something first, to say why he came down, Bruce didn’t think much on it, just continued staring at the laptop in front of him, when had the screen gone black? He blinks tiredly, sitting back slowly, his back cracking echoes, he winces, his entire body feels stiff, uncomfortable in his own skin. He isn’t sure what time it is.

“Hey Dickie.” He finally sighs, his voice sounds distant, quieter than usual. He doesn’t face the boy, but he can see him in the reflection of the computer screens, he’s just beside him, wearing normal clothes, Bruce is still in his suit, he’s been sitting here since patrol ended, and he still doesn’t know what time it is. “Why don’t you come up? Get washed up, I’ll make some dinner?” Dick is speaking so gently, the same kind of softness in his voice Bruce has heard a million times, when Nightwing is talking to scared little kids, when a big brother is talking to scared little brothers. He’s rarely used it when speaking to Bruce. As the detectives mind races, coming up with different reasons, different speculations, he doesn’t care enough to focus on a single thought, letting his mind spin and spin and not knowing for sure what is even going on in it.

“Right, yeah sorry I was just finishing up after patrol, was gonna come up in just a sec.” He hums, running his hands over his face. He’s exhausted to his core, he’s sure he’ll just shower and fall asleep, make it up to Dick tomorrow for skipping the dinner. “Yeah, all good. It’s just been a while so I wanted to make sure you didn’t fall asleep at the desk.” Dick laughs, it lightens the mood, both of them smiling as Bruce nods. He enjoyed his habit of crashing at the batcomputer, still in his suit, so he could get up and just go right back out. He hadn’t done that in a while, he realizes. A shower sounds exhausting, what was the point of it? What was the point of going upstairs and resting, he can just stay here, just keep himself down here until it’s time to go out again.

He finally faces Dick. The boy is smiling softly, Bruce takes a moment to really look at him. Bruce remembers when he had to lean down to look him in the eyes, when his wide eyes sparkled and his toothy smile was crooked. Now he’s older, his eyes still sparkle but right now they look dimmed, who had dimmed them? It makes Bruce’s heart hurt to think something could be bothering him.

He pets the boys head as he stands, Dick leans into the touch, smiling small, his teeth not visible. “Cmon. I’ve already got dinner started.” He says, throwing an arm lazily around Bruce’s waist, holding him close. “Alright, thank you Dickie. I’ll come down after my shower.” Bruce yawns as they step into the elevator, knowing he has no plans to come back down after he washes up. He’s ready to just go to bed. “I’ll come drag you down if you don’t.” Dick says, still smiling, it warms Bruce’s heart to see. “Right, right.” He nods, playing along.

Bruce really does consider not coming down. He stays in the shower longer than he should’ve. It’s really impressive when in a mansion with endless water supply he manages to run out of hot water and he has to stand in the cold, realistically he could withstand it much longer, it hasn’t even started to bother him yet, but the water has cleared his mind a bit, and he has to pull himself from the shower. His self destructive mindset is being washed away, he has to get a grip, has to calm down. Even when he didn’t feel like he was anything but calm, he knows better than to pretend. He stares at himself in the mirror, seeing his chest rising and falling faster than it should, his hands shaking a bit as he holds the counter to ground himself.

Really, he knew he was hours into a depressive episode and an anxiety attack was rising up his throat, but he squashed it down like he always does. He’s fine, like he always is, he just needed to calm down. His heart has calmed by the time he’s back in his room, fingers pressing against his pulse point tells him he’s fine, like he knew he was. He’s in a shirt and sweats now, sitting on the edge of the bed as he ruffles a towel through his dampening hair. Dick is downstairs waiting on him, it makes sense how he was speaking to him before, how he wanted to make sure Bruce joined him for dinner. Bruce glances at his nightstand, the clock reads seven. He’s been back from patrol and sitting in the cave for thirteen hours, he clicks his tongue and glances away from the clock, standing up now so he doesn’t have time to convince himself he’s not leaving the room.

His body aches as he walks down the stairs, exhaustion still weighing him down. He could go another thirty six hours before needing to sleep, he reminds himself, but that’s destructive and unhealthy so he won’t. He rolls his eyes at himself, he feels ridiculous, a constant battle in his own mind, its deep rooted in him to not care about himself, not in anyway, and yet the kids insisted different, convinced him to talk to a therapist, to be kinder to himself, to not push himself to the very brink of destruction. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, picturing how Dick looked at him earlier, seeing the light dulled in his eyes, wondering who could make him feel that way, only to realize it was him. He didn’t mean to drag them into his mess, he’ll be fine, he’ll bounce back, he’s better now than he’s ever been before, he’s got a grip on things, he won’t let it get as bad as it has in the past. Yet they still worry, he makes them worry.

The voices in the kitchen instantly stop when Bruce steps into the doorway. Now any other day Bruce would simply blink and maybe offer a weak attempt at a smile, just a normal reaction from him, he was a very unresponsive person, always a blank expression on his face, the kids knew how to read him even with nothing to read, but to others he was completely stone faced and emotionless.

So the kids are naturally freaked when tears well in his eyes. They haven’t even fallen, and they won’t, but they all see them, they all notice. Dick is standing by the island, a dish in his hands as he stares at Bruce with that same sad look in his eyes, worry written on his features. Jason is closest to him beside the table, holding a few plates, standing sideways as he stares at Bruce like a deer caught in headlights, looking unsure and awkward, Tim, looking sheepish, smiles weakly from where he’s sat, adjusting the plates and dishes being set, Damian continues setting down the utensils by every plate, Cass fixes the flower arrangement in the middle of the table. Bruce doesn’t move for a moment, and the kids act as if they hadn’t noticed, continuing with setting the table.

When they’re done they all sit down, waiting patiently, no one is staring at him, it makes him a little more willing to come sit at the table. He sits next to Dick with Damian and Jason in front of him, Cass and Tim at the heads of the table. The kids talk amongst themselves, acting as normal, as usual. Bruce feels every beat of his heart, swallowing the lump in his throat, taking a sip of his water as a slight distraction.

He just listens to their conversations, it eases his anxiety, lessens the weight pressing down on his chest with every breath he takes. Hearing them laugh amongst themselves, quiet jokes and jabs and random rambles about their day, their patrols, their lives. Bruce is just so content hearing them, listening to their voices, their breaths, their laughter. They’re alive, they’re living, they’re sitting at the table for dinner with him. His children.

“Happy Father’s Day dad.” Dick whispers, resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder. The man shudders, exhaling finally, every tense muscle uncoiling, relaxing, healing. He hugs Dick, kissing the top of his head as he closes his eyes for a moment, cherishing this moment, this peace, this love. “Thank you sweetheart.” He whispers, a tear does fall, but it hides itself in Dick’s hair, like every worry and pain Bruce has dealt with in the last twenty years, his son shoulders it with him, he carries as much as he can, he holds him up when he can’t hold himself.

The peace he feels sitting here with them almost makes him forget why he was so weighed down, why he almost couldn’t bring himself to move. As him and Dick sit back up and start eating, Bruce sees a light turned on out of the corner of his eye, a little lamp that sat on the kitchen island, illuminating a plate, and a tea cup sitting atop it, untouched, empty. It was a spot that had been empty for a while now, without its usual occupant to sit upon it, to turn that little light on and read the paper, a magazine, a book; or anything that day decided was to enjoy the early mornings, just one little light and the rising sun, awake before the rest of the house, enjoying the serenity of a family sleeping peacefully underneath these warm walls.

“Happy Father’s Day dad.” Bruce whispers to the shadow of where his father sat, where he could still imagine him flipping through something to read, writing up a little recipe, or making its first test run they would all be subjected to try and critique so he knows when it’s just right. Dick snuggles closer into Bruce’s side, hugging his arm as Cass comes over, hugging Bruce’s other side, and kissing his cheek. They all chorus their own happy Father’s Day’s, to him, to the shadow they all cling to, Bruce holds on to the soft hugs that they let linger longer than usual, an extra father they’re making up for, extra comfort they all need on this day.

Bruce washes the dishes, despite their arguments that he needs rest, he lingers in the kitchen longer than he needed to, fingers delicately holding that ceramic tea cup. He sets it back in his spot, leaves that little light on, because it keeps him with them. The kids are sprawled around the living room, waving Bruce in to watch a movie. His exhaustion is gone as he sits down on the edge of the couch, Tim immediately leaning practically his whole body in his lap, as Jason leans against his legs, sitting on the floor in front of him. Bruce reaches over by the loveseat, petting Damian’s hair gently, and even if the boy denies it, he leans into the touch, savoring it for even as short as it was.

“What should we watch?” Tim asks, already munching on popcorn as Dick flips through streaming services. Everyone hums or quirks their heads, thinking. As Dick passes over a movie he stops, hesitating over it. He glances up at Bruce, who smiles sadly, and nods. Nothing is said, nothing needs to be said. They all know it was his favorite, and watching it today, their first Father’s Day without him, it keeps him with them. The movie is turned on, blankets pulled over them as lights are turned off. They sit quietly through the movie, eventually falling asleep one by one, the tv illuminating over their peaceful sleeping faces. The only other light on in the entire manor, is that little light sitting in Alfred’s spot, adding a little more warmth to comfort them in the way only he could.

Happy Fathers Day

[black-cat-luck]

I’ve Forgotten How Your

Touch Feels

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, nothing was supposed to end this way, but nothing in this life has been fair, so it was only fitting the end is the same.

You loved Jason Todd with your heart and soul, and he was the last person you wanted to see as you died.

9.7k words

Main Tags: Angst, Hurt Comfort, Jason Todd x F!

Reader, Smut, Poison Ivy Pollen

AO3 Link:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[black-cat-luck]

I like to think about Jason coming back and he’s angry at Bruce, angry at the world, but he never expected to be angry at Dick. Sure he could’ve killed Joker for him, but really it should’ve been Bruce, so Jason’s truly not too mad at Dick, until he sees how Dick treats Tim. Until he hears stories about Dick being a big brother, Dick taking Tim under his wing, Dick being nice. That’s what really upsets Jason, above everything else, to find out Dick was capable of being a big brother, that he could be nice, and accept having a little brother, he just couldn’t do it for Jason. He didn’t want to do it for Jason.

What Jason doesn’t know, what really no one except Alfred and Bruce know, is how hard it was for Dick to accept Tim, how Dick screamed at Bruce, threw things, and cried because how could Bruce just replace Jason?

And it wasn’t Dick, or Bruce, or anyone in their family that encouraged Dick to be better, it couldn’t even be entirely on Jason either, but Dick will never admit it was because of Joker. How when Dick was beating him to death for killing his little brother, Joker smiled through bloody teeth and asked Dick. “You didn’t even like him when he was alive, why do you care now that he’s dead?”

And Dick has to live with that. He has to live with knowing how cruel he was to Jason, how all Jason ever saw of him, was him screaming at Bruce, being angry over Robin being given away, in front of the boy it was given to. Dick was not an older brother to Jason, and Jason died knowing that.

As hard as it was for Dick to move on, to allow himself to live knowing Jason couldn’t, when he looked at Tim, when he saw him in the Robin outfit, trying so hard just to help them, he couldn’t make the same mistake again, he couldn’t let Tim die thinking Dick could never love him, god forbid it happens again. So Dick becomes the big brother he never wanted to be, he takes care of Tim, he’s kind to him, he spends time with him just because, not because they’re vigilantes, or stuck together, but because he wants to. He wants Tim to know he loves him.

So Jason hates Dick, because Bruce replacing him can’t even really be that surprising, but Dick? Jason couldn’t accept that. Jason can’t forgive Dick for choosing to ignore Jason, but treat his new brother kindly. Jason doesn’t know that he’s the reason why Dick is so kind, he might never know, but when he catches Dick staring at him sometimes, even years later, when they’re both full grown adults, living as normal, Dick has the same look of fondness, sometimes even remorse as he stares at Jason, because no matter what, Jason was his first little brother, Jason was the one that meant the most to him, Jason was the reason Dick is who he is now.

Little Jason didn’t get to know Dick as his big brother, but Dick will make sure big Jason never forgets it.

[black-cat-luck]

Heys can you write the bat boys magically get put (stuck) in their robin costumes and have to go on patrol with them on 🫶🏾

OH YES I CAN

༺♡♱⋆🦇⋆♱♡༻

When the gold smoke disappears around them, everyone still coughing and covering their faces, the first thing any of them notice, isn't that the assailant they're fighting got away, it's that none of them have pants on. "Oh my god." Dick gasps as everyone yells in horror, looking down at themselves.

"WHY AM I NOT WEARING PANTS!" Damian's voice brings all their eyes to him; and when he notices their stares, he quickly covers himself with the cape on his back. "Is anyone de-aged?? Everyone get over here!" Dick quickly jumps into action, grabbing three yellow capes and yanking them to a corner. The petty robber they were fighting is already gone, and they have much bigger things to worry about, specifically the fact that none of them are wearing pants.

"What the hell kind of magic is this!" Jason sneers, using his own cape for cover as well. "Okay we all seem to be fine, no age differences, no personality differences. Did that seriously just make us all wear my old Robin costume?" Dick puts his hands on his hips to overlook the four of them. Jason and Damian look murderous, Tim looks embarrassed. "How would that even work? That's too specific of a spell, maybe if it was our old Robin costumes too, but how could they make it just yours? Why?" Tim thinks out loud, frowning as his cheeks turn red, Dick is smiling when he looks back at him. "Get rid of the grin dickhead." Jason snips, and Dick giggles. "I can't help it, our Robin's look so cute!" He says, earning groans from the youngest two.

"Oh let me have this I never got to see either of you in my suit." Dick huffs as Damian shoves past him, still wrapped in his cape as he shuffles toward the door. "Robin wait we need to go to the cave together!" Dick calls, looking over his belt for his beacon, Tim wordlessly reaches over and presses it, making Dick grin again. "I love you, you freaky little stalker." He giggles as Tim groans in embarrassment and walks away. "Get a grip." Jason says, but Dick is still happy, skipping over to where Damian stands, ears red and not looking at any of them as they wait for the Batmobile to come to them.

"Well, that certainly is a sight." Alfred says as the four boys climb out of the car. "Aren't we cute!" Dick says. "We should've checked him for a de-age curse, sounds like he's been hit." Jason grumbles as Dick glares at him, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm having a great time; this was my costume, I haven't worn it in years! And seeing all of you guys wear it is awesome." He says, looking to where Damian is already yanking the suit off. "You could've given it pants, it's effeminate and embarrassing." He sneers, Dick only rolls his eyes. "I was eight when I designed it, and Robin was built around me, so you're welcome." Dick says, watching as Damian successfully frees himself, he grabs one of his backup Robin suits and starts to put it on.

It's silent as everyone watches, as soon as his suit is fully on, it transforms right in front of their eyes to the Robin suit. "You have to be kidding me." Damian sneers through his teeth, yanking it off again, he grabs his hoodie and sweats he wore earlier before patrol, as soon as they're on, he's back in the Robin suit. Both of his own suits still lay on the floor, looking normal and unbothered. "This is a little less funny now." Dick admits, looking to the other two; who look furious. "I can't wear ANYTHING??" Jason yells, and Tim groans, holding his head in his hands. Dick pries at his domino mask. "This at least comes off!" He says, cringing as Jason's murderous glare pierces him.

"What. Happened." Bruce's voice startles them, they all turn and see him standing in the doorway, he's still in a robe, gauze visible underneath as he holds his middle, eyes darting from one boy to another. Damian has started stabbing the practice dummies to let out his anger. "Hey B! We got spelled." Dick says, gesturing to himself. "And the spell...Put you all in the old Robin suit?" He asks, Dick nods, rocking on his feet as he fights back another grin. "Sure did. Dami's already tried changing, but anything we put on becomes this, aren't we adorable? Look at Tim and Damian in the suits it's so cute." He says, hands showcasing Tim, who hides his face in hands, groaning in embarrassment. "I added pants to the suit for a reason." He whines, still covered by the cape. "I'll give Zatanna a call, ask Spoiler and Batwoman to cover your routes for the night, don't go back out there like that." Bruce says, though Dick can see he's amused.

"Make it quick, I'm dressed like a fucking child and I have shit I need to do." Jason sneers, Bruce's amusement becomes more visible as he looks to the second eldest. "I'm sure Red Hood's men would get enjoyment out of taking orders from an overgrown Robin." Dick says, making Jason stomp off, but with the green boots and the yellow cape, it only makes it funny to watch. Bruce nods his goodbyes to the others and leaves the cave. "It appears Master Damian's suit has remnants of the spell, I'll run it on our end and look for a reversal." Alfred says, grabbing the discarded suit on the floor as Dick sits down next to Tim.

"The suits not bad, just a bit embarrassing being this old wearing it." Tim says after a minute of silence, Dick is startled and faces him; before realizing what he'd said, and smiling. "Aw little bird you like the Robin outfit! Then why'd you change it?" He crosses his arms with a glare as Tim groans. "I was thirteen! It was already embarrassing, I just needed pants, I kept everything else original. But when I was a kid? I looked up to you and Jason in this suit, I always wanted to wear it." He says, and Dick hugs him. "I'm glad you like it, I always did want to see you in it." He says, ruffling the younger boys hair.

Both Alfred's testing, and Zatanna's, say they'll be stuck in them for two days. Damian and Jason are furious, but Tim and Dick are only mildly inconvenienced. Bruce has to make arrangements at Wayne Enterprise for Tim's sudden sickness making him miss those days, and Dick has a friend overlook Blüdhaven for him, but other than that they're doing just fine with the situation.

The table is painfully awkward as they eat breakfast. Jason and Damian have a permanent scowl, Tim's face is a constant shade of red, and Dick is totally normal about all of this. Jason and Damian have found ways to pin their capes shut around them so they're covered, and Tim fidgets too much with his so he just holds it or covers himself with a blanket. Dick just hangs onto the cape and wraps himself up in it.

"What are we supposed to do for patrol tonight?" Damian asks, stabbing extra hard at his pancakes as Bruce blinks tiredly. "Cass is still out of country, Kate agreed to help but Steph is busy, that's not enough to cover all our ground." Dick adds, "hn." Bruce glances at Alfred, whose eyes sharpen into a glare. "Still benched." Bruce shrugs, sitting back as he sips his coffee. "Oracle can cover the ground behind the scenes and direct Batwoman on where help is needed, Blue Bird said she'll take Damian's usual route." Bruce says. "I've got help in Blüdhaven, then we just need to find coverage for Tim's route and J-" "keep your nose out of my territory." The second oldest sneers, and Dick rolls his eyes, holding his hands up in defense. "You don't look as intimidating when you're 6'4 in the Robin suit bud." Dick chips back, Jason's glare sharpens, and Alfred takes the knife next to his plate before he can throw it at Dick.

"So about my route." Tim chimes in, smiling awkwardly as they all look at him. "Tonight's the big deal happening on the harbor you two were going to help me bust." He says, and Dick and Damian's faces fall. "Oh fuck." Dick groans, holding his head in his hands as Jason laughs at him.

"I'm going to kill you when this is over." Jason spits. "Get over it Jay it wasn't even my fault!" Dick whispers back hastily. They're on the roof of a nearby building, watching the drug deal happen beneath them. "I share sentiment with Todd, and will be stabbing you when I have my own suit back." Damian's voice crackles through the comm and Dick rolls his eyes. "Again, not even my fault." "All of you shut up it's happening." Tim silences them, and they all see the hand off. "I will also be stabbing Drake." "Now!"

The four of them come barreling down, landing on top of goons and kicking away guns before anyone can register what happened. "What the fuck?!" One of the dealers yell as Tim swipes his legs out from underneath him. "Yo I heard Harry got a spell on them but I really didn't believe it-" "that's fucking Red Hood!" The man is punched in the face before he can say anything else. "Not tonight." Jason sneers, knocking out another. "We're the Robins tonight!" Dick flips over one of them, wrapping his legs around him; and slamming him into the ground. "Behind you baby Robin!" Damian evades the hit and glares at him. "Robin four!" He defends making Dick giggle as he knocks another man out. "My bad! On your six Robin three!" It's a flying mess of bright yellows and green, four Robins taking them down within a minute.

Jason picks up the suitcase and shoves it at Tim, who groans under the sudden hit and wraps his cape around himself. "They recognized me." Jason huffed, kicking the unconscious goon. "They knew we got hit, doesn't take much to tell who's who when you know what four to expect." Dick laughs as Jason glares at him. "Whatever, let's get this fucking night over with." Jason spits, storming away as Dick rolls his eyes, tying up the last of the goons as Tim waddles with both suitcases in his arms, Damian follows Jason as Dick walks slowly behind the three of them.

They end up spreading out throughout the night. To their luck, it is a busy night and they spend a lot of time apprehending thief's, drug dealers, and muggers while dressed in bright colors as grown men. Tim stumbles across a bank robbery, and with a single signal, the other three are beside him within minutes. "This is gonna get messy." Dick whispers as they hear the glass crunching under the men's boots as they step into the bank they've just shattered the glass of. "No alarm, they disabled it, heavy guns." Tim notes out loud, they all stand up from their crouching positions at the same time. "What a perfect night for the Robins." Dick laughs as they grapple down, and into the bank.

The fight is almost effortless. "He's all yours Robin two!" Dick giggles as he flips out of the way, Jason punches the man he was fighting, knocking him out cold, and shoots a glare at Dick at the name. They fight together well, Tim swipes a man's legs out with his bostaff after he gets Damian in a chokehold, and Jason grabs the barrel of a gun and lurches it upward before it fires where it had been pointed at Tim's head.

Dick ties the thieves up effortlessly as his brothers ensure the safe is untouched and call for the police. "Grown men running around in a toddlers outfit, are you not embarrassed?" One of the men laughs as Dick squats near him, setting up one of his unconscious buddies. "Not at all." Dick smirks as the man scoffs. "What you think you can be your big age dressing like a little hero and Batman will like you and take you in? Think he won't bash your teeth in for parading as his dead boy?" The question startles Dick, who glances at his chest, staring at the uniform. This uniform was his, but the last Robin Gotham saw in it, was Jason. Dick glances over to Jason, his jaw is clenched, and he quickly turns away. Dick glances back to the restrained man, and before he can say anything, Damian whirs past him, punching the man. Dick gasps and grabs the boy, holding him back from attacking again. "You don't know anything you pathetic low-life! My brother made this outfit and it is an honor to get to wear it as the first Robin's had! And Batman thinks we're cute!" Damian shouts, Dick actually laughs as he locks his arms around the wriggling boy.

"He's right, you're lucky you got us and not the big man tonight, insulting us while we're spelled, he wouldn't be too happy about that." Tim whistles as Dick grins. "Oh and trust me, he is around. Better hope next time it is him you run into, cause when this wears off, Red Hood gets his guns back." He's grins mischievously, seeing terror take over the man's features. "Have a goodnight boys!" Dick calls over his shoulder as they leave. He sees Jason already on the rooftop across the street, and he and Tim grapple up to him. Once they're on the roof, Dick sets down a still violently angry Damian, who's brushing himself off and cursing in another language as he stomps a few feet away from Dick. "Cmon Robins." Dick swings his arm over Jason's shoulder. "Let's get home." He yawns, the sun is already beginning to rise, and they hear sirens getting close as they leave the scene.

The next night their patrols are covered, and they stay inside, counting down the last three hours until it wears off. Dick eats dinner with Tim and Alfred, the others sprawled around the house somewhere, all waiting it out.

When the curse lifts there's a chorus of groans in relief. Dick and Damian are already back in sweats and a sweater, having changed into something comfortable so that would be what they were wearing when it did wear off, whereas Tim never even bothered to change, so he's still in his Red Robin gear, typing away at his laptop. Dick mentions changing and Tim waves him off, saying he'll get to it. Dick smiles and stretches, wanting to go to sleep, but as he sees Damian sketching and Tim working away, something nags at him, and makes him walk the direction away from his room.

Jason is in the study Dick knew he would be in. He's sitting in the arm chair, staring out the window as the rain patters against it. He's still in his Red Hood gear, helmet sat atop the table. "Hey little wing." Dick says softly, walking further into the room, but keeping a few feet between them. "I'm fine Dickbird." Jason scoffs, Dick hums, shifting his weight. "I was so caught up about it being my Robin suit." Dick says, and Jason sighs, turning so his back is completely to him. "I forgot it was yours too." His voice is softer now, Jason doesn't respond, Dick watches him intently, unable to tell anything just by looking at the back of his head. "I'm sorry, for treating it like a joke, for encouraging us patrolling like that, I didn't think we'd be recognized, I..I didn't think at all." He stares at his feet for a moment, feeling guilt creeping up his spine. "I could've pushed harder against it." Jason's response startles him, and he looks up again, Jason's still facing away from him, but he responded, that was a start.

"It was nice to be Robins together for a night." He sighs, and Dick has to fight back a smile, waiting to see if he's going to say anything else. "It was a lot to be in it again at first. Couldn't stop remembering the last time I wore that suit was when I died." His voice is softer now, Dick holds his breath. "But I saw how happy it made you, and Tim and Dami really did look cute in it. It wasn't so bad." He sighs, turning to glance at Dick. "I still should've checked on you, and I'm sorry I didn't. Good thing it's over now." Dick tries to lighten the mood, Jason shrugs. "It was nice to be Robin with you Dickhead." He hums, and Dick smiles warmly, walking over and hugging him, despite Jason's complaints and pushing against him. "It was nice to be Robin with you. I know I wasn't so nice back then, but I feel different now, it was actually really nice to see all of us, to see the Robin we used to be, to see what Robin has become." He hums, and Jason nods. "The Robin you used to be, it's all because of you." He murmurs, blushing as Dick hugs him tighter.

"You're still my Robin Jay, always will be." He sighs, finally letting him go from the hug, despite still smiling as Jason rolls his eyes. "Alright well I'm glad you got your two nights of enjoyment, you'll never catch me without pants again." Jason huffs, shuddering as he pats his thighs, where the jean fabric covers them. "Good idea, grown men don't rock it like little kids do." Dick smiles as they walk out of the study, Damian and Tim are still lounging in the sitting room, and Alfred steps out of the kitchen, smiling as he sees them. "Well my boys, you've survived your little spell, I thought you deserved a treat for being so brave." Alfred teases, bringing out a tray of cookies. "You're a god send Alf." Jason sighs, flopping down on the couch and taking a plate of cookies for himself. Neither Damian or Tim look up as they're handed some, and Dick sits on Jason's legs, thanking Alfred. "You're heavy." Jason complains, getting one leg free and kicking him. "You're heavier." Dick mocks, sitting back and turning the tv on. "And you're stuck now so we're watching a movie." He hums, earning grumbles of protest, but nobody actually fights him.

"What're we watching?" Bruce's voice startles them, and he sneaks a cookie from Tim's plate. "Still deciding." Dick replies, mouth full. "Well I can say I'm glad to see you all in your normal outfits, Tim why are you still suited up?" Bruce asks, eyebrows furrowed as Tim shrugs. "Didn't bother to change, didn't matter when I could only wear one thing." He replies, not looking up from his work. "Well, I enjoyed seeing you guys as Robin. It was bittersweet to see you in it again." Bruce smiles warmly at Dick, who smiles as well. "It felt nice to be Robin again, even for just a few days. Never thought we'd all get to be Robin together." He says, nudging Damian with his foot, who scoffs and shoves him away. "When you all weren't attempting to stab one another, it was enjoyable to see you all as Robin again." Alfred adds, walking over toward the mantle, "it's not like we were de-aged, I was a grown man in a leotard." Jason grumbles. "But you were Robin." Alfred says, setting a picture frame down, before walking away. Dick has finally chose a movie and watched it load up as they all glance at the mantle, seeing a new picture none of them saw even be taken, four Robins standing together, Bruce in the corner smiling at them. Batman and his Robins, Bruce and his sons.

Even as the mantle passes down, they will always be Robin.

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this was sooo fun to write thank you for the request!! I love my Robin boys and their brother dynamic <3 hope you enjoyed!!

[black-cat-luck]

Can u pls do Tim and Bruce father son activities ( i love ur writing!!)

YES IVE BEEN WAITING FOR MY TIMMY BOY

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• Tim and Bruce have a very hard relationship. It took a very long time for them to have anything father/son related, and when they did reach that point, it was uncomfortable and awkward for both of them at first. They try, once they get to that point of care for one another, they do try. Tim knows Bruce is trying, and it means a lot to him, so he’s happy to reciprocate, to have this parental relationship in his life.

• Their first father/son moment is after Tim breaks his skateboard. He’s not necessarily upset, it’s just a sight inconvenience, but he’s tired, he’s been really stressed, and this pushes him past a breaking point. Bruce finds him sitting next to the broken board, and wordlessly manages to get Tim to get in the car and go with him. Tim doesn’t ask how Bruce knows what board shop he frequents, or the exact way to get there without directions, but Bruce even goes inside with him, asking questions here and there as they browse, and complimenting everything Tim picks and buys. Tim has credit cards, he has his parent’s money, but Bruce buys it all without blinking before the boy can even try and dig his wallet out of his pocket. It becomes a thing for them, Bruce always finds time to take Tim to the board shop when he wants to go, and always watches him with that same warm smile, just enjoying seeing Tim happy over something a boy his age should enjoy.

• Tim really likes baseball. He doesn’t let anyone know, not since Jack Drake never picked a glove back up or bothered to show up to a T-Ball game after Tim hit double digits. It’s fine, Tim bought himself gear and nets so he could play on his own in his backyard. He stopped playing on a team, and just tossed a ball to himself. He hasn’t had an itch for the sport in so long that when it comes back he doesn’t think twice to dust off a glove and practice his pitch. When Bruce finds him, it honestly makes his chest hurt to see all of the things the boy owns, to see how long he’s spent alone. There’s an extra glove, Tim always had a few of everything. Bruce is a bit rusty, but he’s adamant to make sure Tim never feels alone again, to know he has a home and a father that will play catch with him. Tim cries himself to sleep that night, and Bruce promises he won’t ever be alone again.

• Tim’s one true love is always photography. When he feels secure enough with his relationship with Bruce to show him, Bruce is a bit horrified to know such a small boy was hiding on rooftops just to sneak pictures of him, but it’s a bittersweet feeling to know that little boy was so starstruck, that he adored Batman so much, and if Bruce would’ve known about him before, maybe he could’ve met Jason, maybe Tim could’ve had a father sooner. Bruce takes him to museum’s that have traveling photography exhibits, some with local artists getting displayed. Tim admits a few are his he submit under a pen name, and Bruce makes sure those photos are displayed permanently. He encourages Tim to never give up or let anything ruin his love for his art. Bruce spends early mornings and beautiful middays with Tim, watching him in his own element, more so than Robin, or an act put on for the elites, Tim Drake is a photographer.

• Tim likes to crochet. It started as a small hobby he learned from hours of watching his mother do it, he was always nervous to try himself, but when the nights got lonely he did it as a way to feel close to his parents. He fell in love with it and Drake manor is covered in all kinds of colorful creations of his. He has his own crocheted Batman sweater that he made before merch of the vigilante ever existed, and he still wears it happily. Bruce thinks it’s adorable, and Tim’s first ever gift to him, is a matching one. Bruce adores it, and wears it all the time around the house, and Tim continues making him things. Sweaters he can wear in public (which he does happily), a plush Robin bird that sits above the batcomputer, a tiny Alfred to keep him company when he’s having a hard day. He even makes Alfred small versions of Bruce, and all his kids. He gets a hug, and sees both of them cry when they’re given them. That Christmas everyone is given matching sweaters, and Bruce happily sits with Tim as he crochets, encourages him to pick up his needles when he’s getting antsy during a debrief, or watches him tiredly twist the yarn around his fingers as he waits for Bruce to fill out the mission report before they’re allowed to go to bed. Tim tries to get Bruce to crochet with him, but he just can’t seem to figure it out, so it becomes a bonding time for them to just sit together, and Bruce always compliments everything he makes, just happy to be with him.

• Tim likes to make cakes. He thinks they’re fun, and there never needs to be a reason to enjoy something delicious, so when they’re both benched for a week after a rough mission, Tim drags Bruce down to the kitchen, and makes him help make one. There’s no occasion, no reason. Tim just wants cake, and he wants the enjoyment of making one. Bruce is just happy to spend time with him, and helps with every step. Tim makes the frosting himself, and shows Bruce all the different shades of colors they can make by adding certain amounts of food coloring, so they can have four different shades of pinks and blues for the cake. He’s almost too good at it, like he is with everything, and Bruce feels bad he’s making it look bad, his cursive is sloppy in frosting, and no matter how he holds the spatula, the border is still lumpy, but Tim thinks it’s perfect, and refuses to let Bruce stop helping. It’s a bit messy, leaning a bit to one side, but Tim loves it. He takes pictures, and lets Bruce cut the first slice, smiling wide as they share the piece, commenting on how good it tastes, and how perfect it is because they made it together.

• When Tim has to move on from Robin and become his own person, it undeniably puts a strain on their relationship. They try not to let it, but Tim needs time, and Bruce allows him it. Tim can’t find enjoyment in making cake, or playing baseball by himself anymore, a dreaded feeling that he finally knew how it felt to really be loved, and lost it. He’s still a kid, he’s on his own again, he’s too prideful to be the one to make the first move. A box is left on his doorstep, his Robin training says not to trust it, but the way his name is written, in cursive that it much better on paper than a cake, it leads him to opening it. He finds a small plush bat inside. It’s lopsided, messy crochet barely holding together. It’s from the same tutorial that taught him how to make the plush Robin he put in the cave for Bruce. Batman needs a Robin, he always reminded him. Bruce needs his son, he was reminded. And Tim knew no matter what, he needed him too. Tim never expected to find a family among the manor and the people he now loved that were inside. He never imagined he’d get to have this relationship, because no matter what, Bruce showed him what it felt like to be loved by a father. Bruce didn’t just love him as his son, Bruce loved him as Tim Drake.

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Tim my beloved I want to give him the entire world

Thank you for requesting I hope you liked it!! Thank you for loving my work, I hope you enjoy all my future writings just as much. ᡣ𐭩

[black-cat-luck]

hey! I recently stumbled onto ur fic abt the batkids' reactions to Bruce being badly injured and I just want to say thank you bc I feel like the bat girls never get enough love or fics w em in it. </3

I hope u have a great day/night! :3

Hi thank you!! I love the batgirls (and Duke) and love to include them! I do have moments where I’m not as familiar with them as I am with the Robin boys (unfortunately hyperfixations didn’t extend to everyone) but I am trying to read more on them and get to know them better so I can always include them!! Especially when it comes to something like that request involving Bruce I wanted all of them to be included :) I hope you have a great day/night too!! <3

[black-cat-luck]

DC MASTERLIST

Bruce:

Dick:

• Planning a party

Jason:

• I’ve Forgotten How Your Touch Feels

• I Could Be Different

Tim:

• Flightless bird

Cass:

Bats and Birds:

• Batkids reactions to Bruce getting badly hurt

• Robins get stuck in their suit

• The Reason Dick Is A Big Brother

• Happy Fathers Day

Bruce & Dick:

• Father son activities

Bruce and Jason:

• Father son activities

• Getting mugged

Bruce and Tim:

• Father son activities

Bruce and Damian:

• No One Teaches An Assassin How To Grieve

Bruce and Cass:

[black-cat-luck]

I could be different

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Jason Todd gets de-aged and doesn’t remember anything that’s happened to him, and he doesn’t like himself when he finds out what he’s become.

12.2k words

Main tags: Angst, hurt comfort, Jason Todd

needs a hug, angst with a happy ending.

Ao3 Link:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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