Just a 26-year-old French girl obsessed with Batman and his people (especially Jason and the girls) and his villains (don't tell me Poison Ivy isn't wife material).
When are we getting married? (Jason Todd x gn!reader + Dick Grayson)
Skincare routine (Jason Todd x afab!reader + Dick Grayson x Koriand'r)
A hobby (Bruce Wayne x gn!reader + Alfred Pennyworth)
Adopting Duke (Bruce Wayne x gn!reader + Duke Thomas)
Crushes are oblivious (Stephanie Brown x gn!reader)
Brothers being brothers (Jason Todd / Tim Drake)
Kidnapper (Bruce Wayne / Kidnapper + Dick Grayson)
Do your bed, Damian (Damian Wayne / Alfred Pennyworth / Bruce Wayne)
Yeah I saved you (Jason Todd / Tim Drake)
Men like him (Carmine Falcone / Selina Kyle / Bruce Wayne)
Jerk / Bitch (Stephanie Brown / Jason Todd)
Smart kids (Stephanie Brown / Duke Thomas)
Imagines / Oneshots
The nightmare (Jason Todd x gn!reader)
It's happening again (Jason Todd x gn!reader)
Just in love (Jason Todd x f!reader)
You're always making things better, Jay (Jason Todd x GN!reader)
You're going to be okay, Jay (Jason Todd x GN!reader)
A new flower to take care of (Poison Ivy x GN!reader)
I'll do better for you (Poison Ivy x GN!reader)
Let's free the world from humanity (Poison Ivy x GN!reader)
Friends are the best painkillers (Platonic!batfamily x chronically ill gn!reader)
Headcanons
Demon Head!Bruce Wayne (x f!reader)
The nightclub (Jason Todd x f!reader)
Series
You are my heaven // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)
Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey: afab!reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Part 10
Persephone // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)
Death can't keep up apart // Part 2 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)
Behind the masks // Part 2 (Bruce Wayne x gn mayor!reader)
A predatory bird // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 (Bruce Wayne x gn Talon!reader)
Don't touch Red Hood, Batman! // I like to flirt with you, Red Hood! // You're my guardian angel, Red Hood! // I love you, my crime lord! (Jason Todd x f!reader)
Love me like in a dark fairytale // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 (knight!Jason Todd x princess!reader)
Bruce Wayne is best viewed through the lens of “holy shit your parents were genuinely so hot, insanely charismatic, wild, and hot and do whatever the fuck they want, and then they combined their DNA??????? they made one person out of that??” because then you truly understand he’s just Like That.
it’s not even that he’s doomed to be the main character. he’s just the product of two stars collapsing into each other while also fucking the butler along the way. that man was never going to have a normal life.
I’m LAUGHING BECAUSE JUST THESE PANELS ON THEIR OWN SEEM LIKE BRUCE REALLY CAN’T COMPREHEND OR BELIEVE WHAT THE FUCK DICK IS WEARING. LIKE HE NEEDS TO TAKE OFF THE COWL BECAUSE WHAT IF IT’S MESSING WITH HIS EYESIGHT IT HAS TO BE THEN HE TAKES IT OFF AND IT’S LIKE
i neeeeed more of jason being annoying for his own amusement. like wheres the kid who stole the batmobile tires with full confidence then had the audacity to insult batman as if he wasnt caught red handed. proceeded to show batman where he lived, stolen tires stacked along the walls, hands on his hips proud as hell. "yeah, those are my tires. look, dont touch. no, batman, i didnt steal them. jeez" i know he had the most irritating smirk whenever he was successfully rage-baiting and he never grew out of it. he can be that sweet and charming kid while also going through life with enough audacity to stun a large mammal. yeah he helps old people carry their groceries, AND hes also the same kid that thought "yeah, i can get myself to this vague unknown country that i THINK batmans in on my own. no, i wont tell anyone where im going, i need my cool entrance stunt." fast forward ten years and hes all grown up thinking "ik batman SAID hed kick me outta gotham if i killed someone, but what if i just pretend and dont let him know abt it?" also dressing up as a priest to break into a prison was hilarious, no notes. example of jason being capable of good disguises and yet his other disguise option is sunglasses and a mustache paired with a heavy southern accent. laundering penguins money through PENGUINS CASINO was just a power move and he did it for the love of the game. he thinks shits funny. dark and broody jason is cool and all but lets be honest, his coping mechanism is at least 50% humor. "yk whatd be REALLY funny?" - jason to himself when making any plan
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 ✷ established relationship. domestic arguments. fluff & angst. financially reckless behavior. independent!reader. morally gray income sources. soft!red hood. bickering. slightly clingy jason. implied violence. criminal interrogation. protective behavior. unhealthy coping mechanisms disguised as acts of service. rich boyfriend problems.
Dating an independent woman, Jason had learned, was an exercise in chronic frustration. Not the exhausting kind—the kind that settled warm beneath his ribs, irritating and addictive in equal measure. The kind that made him want to grind his teeth one second and kiss her stupid the next. Because loving y/n was easy. Christ, it was the easiest thing he’d ever done. Existing around her, however, was another story entirely.
She refused help with the same ferocity Jason usually reserved for gunfights and emotional repression.
And that was saying something.
Jason liked taking care of people. It was buried somewhere deep beneath the violence, the sarcasm, the helmet, the terrifying reputation, and the lifetime’s worth of anger issues, but it was there. Raw and instinctive. He liked memorizing what people needed before they asked for it. He liked patching wounds, carrying heavy things, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, checking locks twice before bed. Maybe it came from a childhood where nobody took care of him properly. Maybe it came from being Robin once upon a time, before the world had split him open and rebuilt him meaner. Whatever the reason, taking care of someone he loved felt as natural to him as breathing.
Unfortunately for him, y/n would rather throw herself into oncoming traffic than accept assistance gracefully.
Which was deeply inconvenient considering Jason Todd had money now. Not respectable money, obviously. Not “stocks and mutual funds” money like Bruce. Jason’s finances existed in a morally gray area populated by terrified drug lords, black-market deals, confiscated cash, and the occasional envelope Bruce shoved into his hands disguised as “mission funding” when they both knew it was guilt money.
Jason accepted all of it without shame.
And when he got a girlfriend? Jesus Christ.
He immediately developed the overwhelming urge to spend every cent on her.
Not in an obnoxious way. Not because he thought she couldn’t survive on her own. If anything, y/n surviving independently despite Gotham actively trying to eat people alive was one of the things he admired most about her. She worked herself ragged, paid her own bills, handled her own problems, and carried herself with this stubborn, infuriating pride that made Jason want to simultaneously shake her and marry her.
But he loved her. Of course he wanted to make her life easier.
Apparently that made him public enemy number one.
Every single attempt at paying for something turned into a war of attrition.
Coffee dates were the worst. Jason would buy their drinks with the smug satisfaction of a man fulfilling his divine purpose as a boyfriend, only for his phone to buzz ten minutes later.
Y/N SENT YOU $10.00
Jason would stare at the notification with pure resentment.
Once, after their fourth argument about it that month, he’d deliberately paid for dinner while she was in the bathroom, thinking he’d finally outsmarted her.
The next morning she’d transferred him exact reimbursement down to the tax.
Psychotic behavior.
Another time, he’d tried being direct about it.
“You know normal girlfriends let their boyfriends spoil them,” he muttered while leaning against her kitchen counter.
Y/n, sitting cross-legged on the counter eating a banana with the confidence of a woman impossible to embarrass, looked unimpressed. “Normal boyfriends don’t source their income like Batman’s most wanted.”
“That’s hurtful.”
“That’s accurate.”
Jason narrowed his eyes before pulling a thick stack of cash from his jacket pocket and tossing it onto the counter beside her. “Take it.”
She glanced at the money, then at him, then back at the money. “I don’t want your guilt money from your daddy.”
“It’s not guilt money,” Jason corrected immediately. “It’s drug money.”
Y/n stared at him slowly, banana halfway to her mouth, looking genuinely uncertain whether she should kiss him or book him a therapist.
Jason had shrugged like that clarified everything.
Because to him, honestly, it did.
Then there were the bills.
God, the bills argument nearly killed him.
It had been late evening, rain tapping softly against the apartment windows while Gotham drowned itself in neon and smog outside. Y/n’s apartment wasn’t terrible, but it was small in that distinctly Gotham way—thin walls, unreliable heating, pipes that screamed like dying animals whenever someone showered. Jason practically lived there anyway despite technically owning a much nicer place. Mostly because he preferred her cluttered little apartment over any penthouse money could buy.
She was sprawled on top of him on the couch, wearing one of his hoodies and soft sleep shorts, her cheek pressed into his neck while he worked on his laptop balanced precariously against her lower back. One of his arms rested around her waist automatically, hand underneath the hoodie, fingertips tracing absent patterns against her skin while he typed with the other hand.
“Ugh,” she groaned suddenly into his throat. “My landlord is up my ass about rent.”
Jason’s fingers paused over the keyboard instantly.
“How much?”
“No.”
“You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”
“You were gonna offer money.”
“I was gonna offer money.”
She made a triumphant sound against his skin. “Exactly. Denied.”
Jason clicked his tongue in annoyance, shifting slightly beneath her. “Baby, I basically live here anyway. Let me help with bills.”
“No.”
“You’re working doubles.”
“I’ll survive.”
“You shouldn’t have to survive,” he muttered.
That made her lift her head slightly. Her expression softened around the edges when she looked at him, because no matter how much they argued about this, she knew where it came from. Jason wasn’t controlling. Wasn’t condescending. He wasn’t trying to own her.
He just loved hard. Recklessly. Like a man who never learned moderation.
“I wanna do things myself,” she said quietly. “I need to prove I can.”
Jason looked at her for a long moment.
Most people saw anger first when they looked at him. Violence. Volatility. But underneath all of that, Jason understood pride better than almost anyone. Understood what it meant to claw your own survival out of the dirt with bloody hands. Understood how humiliating dependence could feel.
So instead of arguing, he just sighed softly through his nose and kissed the top of her head.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Okay.”
Which should’ve worried her.
Because when Jason Todd stopped arguing, it usually meant he’d already decided to do something significantly worse.
The next afternoon, while Jason was in the middle of interrogating a weapons trafficker, his phone vibrated in his pocket.
He glanced at the caller ID and immediately smiled beneath the Red Hood helmet.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
“You paid my fucking rent?”
Jason leaned casually against the damp brick wall beside him while the criminal tied to the chair whimpered quietly in the background.
“For the next six months, yeah.” He checked his gun lazily. “Oh, and your car’s in the shop. Your brakes sounded like a dying walrus. Figured I’d get them replaced.”
There was silence on the other end.
Then came one long inhale that positively radiated fury.
Jason grinned harder.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Yeah?”
“You are insane.”
“You still love me though.”
“I’m considering arson.”
“That’s my girl.”
The line went dead with an aggressive beep.
Jason stood there for another second staring at the phone in his hand, helpless affection spreading warm through his chest before he could stop it. The kind that made him feel seventeen again. Human again. Soft in places he usually kept armored shut.
If anyone ever saw the look on his face right now, Jason would actually have to kill them.
With a sigh, he slid the phone back into his jacket and finally turned toward the terrified criminal still zip-tied to the chair in the abandoned warehouse.
“You know,” he muttered while pulling another zip tie tighter around the guy’s wrists, “I buy one woman six months’ rent and suddenly I’m the bad guy.”
The guy had apparently developed a death wish.
“F-females,” he laughed nervously, sweat dripping down his temple. “Am I right?”
Jason’s smile vanished instantly.
Gone was the lovesick idiot paying for brake repairs. This was the man criminals whispered about in panic.
Jason grabbed the chair sharply, yanking it forward until the man nearly choked on his own breath.
“That,” Jason said quietly, “is my girl you’re talking about.”
The criminal went pale.
“And trust me,” Jason continued, voice calm in the way that scared people most, “you do not wanna disrespect the woman willing to date me voluntarily.”
“R-right. I’m sorry. Sorry.”
Jason stared at him another second before sighing heavily and releasing the chair.
Dick: wait, so your first girlfriend was Lana Lang, your second girlfriend was Lori Lemaris, your current ex is Lois Lane, and the guy who's obsessed with taking you down is Lex Luthor.
Clark: I--yeah.
Dick: sounds like, after all those L's, you might want a W.
Clark, sputtering: W-what?
Dick, looking directly at Clark so he doesn't misunderstand, gesturing toward Bruce who's busy descaling the coffee machine and absolutely *not* listening in on his kid trying to be his wingman: Take the W, Clark.
The batkids doing that thing where they start to panic when they don't see Bruce in one of his designated spots in the manor. They check his bedroom, his office, the living room, and the batcave and realize they have no idea where he is. You can just hear the escalation in their voices when it goes from "B!" To "Bruce!" To "Dad!"
Joker, laughing maniacally on the speaker: Batsy batsy basty! Guess what? We're in for a deja vu!
Batman, speeding the batmobile, teeth gritting: Joker. This has always been between me and you. Let. Redhood. Go.
Joker, laughing maniacally: I suppose I could. But you see. Ever since I found out my favourite boy wonder has risen from his tomb, I've been wondering, you see.
Joker: Oh, I have been wondering that if I gave you a second chance, would you be able to save him this time?
Redhood, Coughing and spitting blood: why you radioactive bastard–
*Sudden rumbling on the outside*
Joker, wide eyed and grinning: No way! Is daddy dearest here for you already?!
*more rumbling*
Red Hood, slightly smiling: You wish it was him. That's my mom.
*wall breaks*
Red Hood: And unlike my old man, she has no hesitation snapping necks every once in awhile.
Wonder Woman, absolutely red with rage: you- YOU METROKOITES!
Joker: ... uh - oh.
*Proceeds to get thrown across the room by Wonder Woman*
Batman, just arriving: I see your mother got here before.
Red Hood, grinning ear to ear watching Wonder woman pulverize the Joker: Thank heavens for that. I haven't seen anything better in my entire goddamn life.
*loud crack*
Joker: AAHHHHHHHHHHHRGHH
Batman, stopping dead in undoing Hood's ropes: Lord. She just broke his spine.
Red Hood, clapping with his just freed hands and smiling like a child: Holy shit. This is the best fucking day ever!
I think it would be so funny if a reporter accidently overhears one of the waynes insult batman under their breath, and like everyone is just flabbergasted till they realise that these are the Wayne's. Of course they know (and have beef) with batman.
--
Tim, in a interview, trying to explain Wayne stocks or sum idk: well, yk Wayne industries wouldn't have to pay for so many building repairs if fucking batman stopped throwing bane into buildings-
Interviewer: what was that, Mr drake?
Tim: what was what?
Interviewer: right. What do you think Mr Wayne?
Bruce: ...
Bruce: fuck batman.
--
Dick, being bombarded with paperazzi after a kidnapping: oh ffs couldn't batman save me from these snakes too.
Dick: I'm gonna fucking kill him.
Reporters: ???
--
Kid recording a tiktok: hey! Mr Todd! What do you say about the rumors that the Wayne's hate batman?
Jason: huh?
Kid recording, shoving the phone closer to jason: thoughts on batman?
Jason, leaning into to the mic: fuck batman.
--
Someone recording with shaky hands: *Duke Thomas walking out of a private gym, clearly having worked out and looking exhausted*
Duke: fuckass batman, I'm gonna beat his ass.
--
Street kid #2: hey batman! Have you heard what the Wayne's are saying these days?
Batman: *batman noise*
Street kid: do u have a message for Bruce Wayne?
Batman, leaning in: Bruce, say it to my face next time you little bitch.
actually the idea that Dick, the eldest, the only one who ever wore the cowl long term, the only one who raised a Robin on his own, is also the only one who can successfully, perfectly replicate that barked ROBIN! in Bruce's voice? the only one who can pull that exact tone from the depths of his soul, to the point where his voice is identical, so identical that old Robins like Jason are obeying before their minds even realize their bodies are moving? that Dick is the only one, has always been the only one, who can channel Bruce's voice? can channel Batman himself? I am going feral
