Snail ⋮ 25 yrs old ⋮ she/her ⋮ ao3
❀ Inbox is open for chatter and questions. Requests may not be answered.
❀ Dark Themes & Horror are prevalent on this blog; please read tags accordingly!
Jujustu Kaisen Masterlist ⋮ DC Masterlist
❀ Minors and ageless blogs, no adventuring these parts or you'll be blocked!
❀ Upcoming Rounds...
Series Updates:
Replica -> Echo -> Hollow
Hell Fic -> The Pet -> Spin-off
Receptive Vessel -> Remains
The Tyrant and the Snake -> part two
❀ Upcoming One-shots...
There's a new hero! - yan! dick grayson x spidey! reader
Chatrooms - Tim Drake x Reader (fluff)
Of all the yandere batboys who seems the most normal at first?
Mmmm, I'm going to have to say all of them, except Tim. He's a freak and we all know it 😭 Maybe sunshine-and-rainbows!darling gets spared from that, but even then... questionable.
I think with most of the Batboys, there's always some kind of trigger rather than an actual plan to get you into their grasp. Usually, it's the threat of losing you in some shape or form that finally makes their yandere gene snap into place.
Compared to, let's say, JJK, where someone like Geto probably already has a plan from day one to make sure you can't leave his side, the bats don't really need one. They have access to way too much technology, information, and resources for that.
You mention that you're sick of them? You want space? You're thinking about leaving? Well... now they have a reason to use all of that against you, whether you like it or not.
totally expected dick to accidentally drop his phone off the roof when he was showing reader stuff 😭
Dude has an insurance plan on his phone for that EXACT reason. It's happened more than once, one time because he wanted to send you a pic and a gust of wind snatched it.
do you ever open requests or do commissions 👉🏿👈🏿 i love your work and i would like to send you things if you're interested...
Unfortunately... I suck at even updating my long fics in a timely manner 💔 so probably not!!! Thank you for the love and support though :) you're free to send things in my asks. There's just no guarantee that I'll get to it, if you know what I mean!! 🩷😼 it all depends on the brainworms!
Sum: Things were supposed to be casual, but a positive test isn't very casual.
Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne (sorry no ladies this time)
Warnings: accidental pregnancy, mentions of abortion (not acted upon), FWB/casual relationships, angst, implied age gap (Bruce), MDNI.
dividers @/diviniyae
a/n: With all the pregnancy yaps as of late… I was cursed with angsty thoughts of having them as baby daddies, but apparently that corrupted my feed because now I keep getting shown pregnancy symptoms. The funniest one I came across was this poor woman who would nearly throw up anytime she looked at her husband… I feel like that's fitting for Dick.
Black Mask/F!Reader, 2.5K
ft. Platonic Jason Todd/Reader
AN: So, this is based on a series of frankly depraved, evil, beautiful asks [one], [two], [three], [four]. Thank you so much anon/s! It's been tittering on complete for a while now, but I've been hesitatnt to post if as a I feel like it's missing something, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Maybe I'll post an amended verison at a later date. Hopefully youse don't feel the same, and/or enjoy it anyway.
CWs: Swearing, power imbalance, sexual misconduct - Roman is a H/R nightmare, drug use, non-graphic violence, bad drug trip, non-graphic torture, non-graphic blood, manipulation, forced exhibition, public/humiliation, degradation, dumbification/infantilization, a LOT of daddy kink, objectification, isolation, edging, hair pulling, one sided co-dependency, unhealthy coping mechanisms, self-destructive behaviours, very abusive relationship. I am being way over-cautious with this, but basically DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!
“He makes my fucking skin crawl.” Your lips are pulled into a tight scowl as you read the latest text from your boss Roman. “Look at this shit.”
Wear something extra pretty for your shift tomorrow, doll. I have something special planned for you.
Maybe you could understand if you were one of his working girls, you presume they're being paid to fuck him as well as the clientele, but you’re his fucking club's accountant. Despite this, or maybe because of it, he seems to get his kicks trying to coerce his way in your pants, and the more you reject him the more it spurs him on.
Jason considers the message with a frown before snatching your phone and scrolling up. The more inappropriate messages he sees, the more pissed off he looks. Most of it is much of the same, comments on your body and attitude, sometimes it’s worse, pure and unadulterated filth. Occasionally he throws in a legitimate work-related message, which requires an urgent reply. You’re certain he only does the latter to ensure you’re still checking each and every message.
“I told you not to take the job, and I keep telling you to quit.” He finally replies, handing back your phone and crossing his arms. The stormy expression and his imposing stature might be enough to scare anyone else into caving, but this is Jason. Your best friend Jason. You’d been through thick and thin. You’d watched him drunkenly recite Jane Austen in nothing but socks and a fuzzy pink towel for Christ's sake. He doesn’t frighten you. “He’s a creep, why do you keep working for him?”
“The pay is insane.” You reply instantaneously because it is. You’ve almost paid off half your student loan in a matter of months. And that’s on top of all the gifts. You know you shouldn’t take them, blood money and ill-gotten gains blah blah blah but some of it was just too good to turn down. Not to mention the dope. The perks of the job really outweigh the cons, you can deal with Romans vulgar attitude towards you, at least until your loans are paid and your savings account is bloated.
You love Jason dearly, but he’ll blow a fucking gasket if he found out you were taking bribes and drugs from Black fucking Mask. For a casino owner, he’s always been a bit of a stickler. So, you keep that secret for yourself, and you don’t feel bad about it. He has his secrets too. Unfortunately, real life isn’t like an episode of The Sleep Over Club.
“I worry about you.” Jay is still looking at you with that scrutinising glare, too bad it won’t work on you.
“I can handle Roman.” You roll your eyes as you attempt to reassure him. “Really Jay, I promise. He’d have to kill me before I would give him what he wanted.”
That felt so long ago. A far off memory that you hadn’t thought about since before the turning point in your relationship with Roman. It was laughable really. Kill you? Roman saved you.
He’d told you Red Hood was responsible, but you can’t really remember. You’d been high on a bad trip; a newbie had cut the stuff wrong apparently. All you can recall is being lost and alone, unable to command your own body when a bright light hit you out of nowhere, your ears were ringing, and then there was a gun in your face and finally Roman, your knight in a skull-shaped mask.
He’d made let you watch when he’d dealt with the idiot who fucked up the formula, and again you don’t want to remember much, just all that blood, all the screaming, and the thought that you never wanted to be in that position. Red Hood on the other hand was still at large, still a risk, but you weren’t scared of him. Why would you be scared of him when you had Roman. To protect you of course.
All he asked for in exchange was your unwavering submission loyalty.
It was good for you, Roman had helped you in a lot of ways. Keeping you safe, taking the weight off your shoulders. He’d made you realise what an uppity bitch you’d been.
It had been hard at first, accepting what you really are, who you belong to. It went against your core values to swallow your pride and comply to his whims, but you learned that he knew what was best.
The drugs help too. They make it easier to ignore the looks you get. At first, they made you uncomfortable; pitying glances from your former co-workers, judgement and disgust from strangers that cut deeper than you’d thought, mostly lust-filled leering from Roman's followers and his business associates.
But your objectification made Roman happy, and a happy Roman kept you safe happy.
You’re not sure when it happened but eventually, you stopped working, and not worrying about all those numbers felt good. “Don’t think about the money baby just pick whatever you want.”
After numbers came reading, “Those are some big words, why don’t you just point to the pictures.”
Then Roman cleverly pointed out that you didn't need a phone. Carrying around a phone usually meant carrying around a bag, and the ugly old bag you'd had since college really clashed with your pretty dresses.
Besides, what would you do with a phone? Text? Words are hard. Videos? Too much fake news out there, it would only scare you. Call someone? Who? You had everything you need right here.
Giving up decision-making came so naturally after that. “Don’t worry Princess. Daddy knows what you need.”
Roman Daddy helps a lot, he keeps you in line, reminds you of your place. Sometimes you need a firm hand and he’s never been afraid to give it to you. But mostly he just keeps you grounded.
Like now. It would be easy to focus on the hard sticky floor digging into your knees. To feel shame at wilfully allowing someone to treat you like this, at the idea of being watched in such a degrading position by the patrons of the bar or the man on the other side of the table. But you have Daddy to keep you focused. The scratchy feel of his slacks on your cheeks, his fingers in your hair, petting you like a good girl.
The best part is the muskiness of his crotch against your nose. He smells so yummy! It’s a challenge not to stick your tongue out and taste him. The last time you’d done that you’d gotten carried away, drooling all over him, making a large wet patch on his expensive trousers and getting drool everywhere. He’d punished you by having you clean up as much of the remaining excess with your mouth. That meant sucking at the velvety pillowed fabric of the chair and licking the filth-trodden floor. You’d hated every second, but you’d been happy to do it, eager to convince Daddy to keep you.
And it worked!
The memory of it, helps you to stave off the urge to make out with his clothed groin right now. What doesn’t help is the throbbing clit between your legs. Daddy edges you multiple times a day but rarely does he let you cum, that way you’re always wet and needy and ready for his cock. The punishment for trying to get off without him? More proof of Daddy's brilliance. The thought of it dampens any impulse to alleviate the constant ache. You’d broken down and apologised before it even began, begged him to make it stop but he’d had you sit through the whole thing; an hour with your legs open, completely exposed to the False-Facers. No fucking, but otherwise they could do what they liked, touching, slapping, pinching, spitting, and that they did. Your lesson had been learned; that your pussy wasn’t yours. It, along with the rest of your body belongs to Daddy, not you and he can do as he pleases with it.
The hand in your hair suddenly tightens its grip, drawing you from your thoughts and guiding your head back to look at Daddy as he asks; “What are you think about baby?”
“You!” You smile at the sight of his handsome mask.
Cold glass brushes against your lips and you open up, tilting your head back to allow him to pour the sweet liquid in. It burns as it passes through your throat and makes your eyes water. You think you didn’t like cocktails like this before, but Daddy says you love them, and Daddy is always right.
“Good girl.” He coos, making you feel all warm and fuzzy with pride. “You’ve been so well-behaved today, why don’t you come sit on my lap and meet my new friend.”
“Thank you, Daddy!” You clamber to get closer to him, sitting across his lap and leaning the side of your head against his chest. You’re enjoying his warmth and the feel of his hands on your body when you hear something odd. A deep voice shouts a word you recognise but can’t define and it pings around the empty walls of your tiny brain.
“This is Jason Todd.” Daddy’s still talking, big words you don’t care about like ‘shareholder’ and ‘investing’ as he finds a place to settle his wandering hands. One supports your weight, cupping your ass. The other shamelessly gropes your breast, twisting and pinching your pert nipple through the sheer fabric of your dress. A loud, pornographic moan escapes your glossy lips as you relish in Daddy's attention until you hear that word again.
“It’s me. It’s Jason.” It’s the same voice, chipping away in your unconscious. “It’s Jason Todd.”
Jason. Jason Todd. Another sound that you can’t quite put your finger on.
Jay-son Todd.
Jay-son.
Jay.
Finally, you look at the stranger, his mouth is moving. It’s his voice you’d heard before, he says the word again and you think you should know it, but you can’t quite grasp it.
“Have you met Jason before, baby?” Daddy's hold on you tightens, biting into half-healed wounds partially hidden by your clothes.
At the same time, the stranger barks, making you jump. “What the fuck?”
And then that word again and this time it clicks.
It’s your name.
You forgot your own name.
Shame hits you like a bucket of ice water. Trickling through your body in waves as it all comes back to you. And the man, that’s…
“Jason!” Your best friend Jason. “What are you doing here?”
God, what must he think of you; doing tricks like a damn dog for Daddy a man you swore you’d never let touch you.
“Looking for you.” He’s on his feet and towering over you in seconds. He has such a substantial frame. You always thought you’d recognise it anywhere. “I haven’t heard from you in months.”
Months? Had it really been months?
“Your phone line is dead. I went to your apartment and all your shit was on the curb. You’ve not been paying your bills or watering your plants. I thought you were dead.”
Concern is etched into his blue-green eyes and it’s too much. The indignity of your behaviour, the guilt at making him worry, making him come here looking for you, all those words. So many words. Roman says your brain isn’t meant for lots of words.
Jason grabs you, his meaty hand clutching onto your upper arm and attempting to pull you toward him. It does not have the desired effect, the rational part of your brain snaps under the stress of the overwhelming situation like he’s shining a spotlight on you in your most vulnerable moment, like he’s attacking you, and you can think of nothing in this world you want less than to go with him.
“Daddy!” While Jason’s tug is enough to send a jolt through your body, to your relief it isn’t enough to pull you from Daddy's arms. Instinctively, you pull his arm closer for comfort, unaware of how you’d been digging your nails into the sleeve of his suit jacket until you utilise it as a safety net. “Make him stop.”
The look on Jason’s the man’s face is that of pure horror. It hurts to look at, so you nestle deeper against Daddy's chest, soothed by the way it shakes as he chuckles, despite the evident venom lacing the sound. His neck is a deep shade of red. Angry veins bulge with each beat of his battery-powered heart. “You heard her, kid. Take a hike.”
“I’m not leaving without her you sick fuck.” And then the man puts his other hand on you, this one cupping your face, encouraging you to look at him. He’s trying to console you. Instead, he frightens you. “You don’t have to stay here. Whatever he’s got on you, we...”
You let the words pass in one ear and out the other, with no desire to retain any of it.
Daddy is not going to like this. Not only had the scary man tricked him, but now he’s touching you. Trying to take you away. Daddy is really not going to like this.
The man tries once more to snatch your body and this time he succeeds. You squeal as your body harshly lurches forward. Your fears are cut shut, however. Daddy protects you, grabbing you ruthlessly by the throat and kicking the back of your heel. You go limp, allowing his vice-like hold on your neck to lead you back to the floor.
"You Wayne's think you own every fucking thing." Daddy strikes the table with his fist, and something wet slashes into your face, followed by a loud shattering sound. You don't care.
"Don't compare me to him. He's got nothing to do with this."
"Like father like fucking son. You're under my roof boy, and you have the nerve to put your hands on my shit!"
It’s becoming a spectacle. People are watching. You don’t want to look, don't want to listen.
Closing your eyes, you kneel in front of the booth, settling your head onto the warm space where Daddy had been sitting.
They’re both shouting, it makes your head hurt. Something cool is seeping down your face. What sounds like a gun goes off. Once, twice, three times. You don’t care. You don’t want to care. You want to go back to ten minutes ago when your head was empty, and your Daddy was happy.
His lingering scent helps you find that headspace until he returns.
“Look at me.” Once again, he uses your hair to yank your head back, directing you to face him. Despite the way you wail in surprise, the sting is a welcomed reassurance that you’re where you belong. Dark red blood mars his white suit. You don’t look for a body or an injury. You just keep looking at Daddy. “Oh, my poor baby, you’re shaking. It’s okay, Daddies here.”
Jason gives older brother/bully energy in your relationship and I hope you all understand that...
Like one second he's being so freaking sweet, bringing you a snack while you're doing whatever at your desk. Leaning down to kiss your cheek with a few obnoxiously loud mwah, mwah, mwahs, asks what you're working on, you know being all interested...
And then he steals your slime/stress toy/honestly whatever he can get his hands on just to piss you off.
Doesn't even want it. Just picks it up and starts fucking with it while you're telling him to give it back, knocking over two things on your desk in the process before holding it over your head with this stupid what are you gonna do about it? look on his face.
And you CAN try to beat him up. Please do. Start smacking his arm, shoving at his chest, trying to climb him to get your shit back. All he does is laugh and catches you around the waist when you nearly tip over, and goes, "easy, princess," acting like HE isn't the reason you're all riled up over something so trivial.
Then he tosses the slime somewhere just out of your reach, kisses your forehead, and leaves for patrol before you can get your revenge.
I have this little headcanon that Tim Drake takes your last name after marriage. Mostly because he really freaking loves you and finds it more practical. He's always changing his name anyways.
But I think he gets SO much more pathetic about being in love when he's sleep deprived.
Like he's been working the same case for fourteen hours, some new villain trying to make a name for themself. Dick keeps telling him to go home. Jason tells him that they'll take over for a couple hours, so he can get some sleep.
Tim ignores both of them until his forehead finally drops onto the keyboard.
A few seconds pass.
Then, very quietly, very much whining: "I miss my wife."
Dick immediately starts laughing. Jason nearly chokes. Tim lifts his head just enough to glare at them, except his eyes are all glassy and red from exhaustion and his mouth does this tiny miserable wobble pout that makes Dick laugh even harder.
"Oh my god," Dick wheezes. "Are you gonna cry?"
"No." Tim's voice cracks just a little, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent a tear from slipping.
Jason LOSES IT.
"Holy shit, he's actually gonna cry."
"I'm tired," Tim snaps, which would probably sound more threatening if his eyes weren't starting to water. "And I miss my wife. Can you two shut the fuck up?"
Absolutely not. Dick has his phone out. Jason crouches beside Tim making his fist into a mic, "Timothy, can you tell the camera how long it's been since you last saw your wife?"
"Fuck off, Jason."
"Was it hours?"
Tim puts his face back on the keyboard and groans.
"Six."
Dick is crying laughing now.
"Six hours?!"
"I LIKE HER."
Of course they send you the video. Telling you to come get your man before he cries himself to sleep.
He's definitely not overreacting whatsoever :))))))
There's definitely not a gun pointed at the doctor's head while the entire medical team's families are being held hostage until your monitor goes back to normal :)))
I think this honestly applies to both yandere! Jason and regular Jason too. Regular Jason just won't have everyone's families held hostage.
Just the gun.
Because I think there's a very specific point where Jason finally feels safe enough with you to even consider having a family. Safe enough to admit that he wants one.
So if you nearly die while having his child???
That essentially means he killed you in his eyes. Doesn't matter that everyone keeps telling him complications happen. Jason's sitting there imagining your blood all over his hands, staring at your face while somebody keeps telling him to move.
And he's just thinking that this was his idea.
You trusted him enough to build a life with him and now you're bleeding out because of it.
Which is probably how the gun comes out. One second he's gripping your hand, whispering, "C'mon, dove. C'mon. Stay with me." The next he's looking over at the doctor with that completely dead expression and making it very clear that nobody in that room gets to give up on you.
OHHHHH MANNNNN, and if your heart actually stops??? He's no longer normal about you. Not that he was before - he's always had a paranoid streak.
But now he's got this awful little idea in his head that the second he lets himself have something good, the universe tries to take it away.
I genuinely think that a near-death experience would permanently change whatever relationship you had because now he has the ultimate justification for everything.
You died on me.
Doesn't matter that you came back. You died on him once. He's never allowing the world to try again. You know damn well he'd do absolutely anything to bring you back to him if it ever did.
you got me wondering how postpartum depression would be handled with yan dick. Especially after you already have like two kids. Would he just tell the kiddos that they need to go stay over with one of their aunts of uncles (the titans, the batfam, etc) for a while bcuz mommy is sick and she wouldn’t want them to her like this 😔 don’t worry he will make sure to come visit every day but he just got to make sure mommy is okay ❤️ (darling is suicidal)
Warnings: Yandere, postpartum depression, suicidal ideation, forced polyamory, loss of autonomy, infantilization, captivity, implied dub/non-con, mdni
Dare I say he gets back with one of his ex-girlfriends and basically just... adds her to your little fucked up family you got going on. Like you used to have ONE obvious problem and now you have two people loving on you at all times.
And I'm leaning toward Kory because I love an alien baddie who can literally catch you if you jump off the building.
Obviously, this could be Babs too... which might make things even better to imagine because she would make the entire situation feel normal. She's got that older sister/motherly energy. While you're trying to drown in the bathtub, she's sitting right behind you. Cleaning you off, telling you how good of a mom you are, that you earned her as your little push present.
You honestly think Dick should've gone crazier for her. She's so organized, doesn't lash out at his family, and she's so good with the kids, while you just daze off into space most of the time, picturing better days.
And Dick, well... this might be his brightest idea yet. She can play wife in public, spoon-feed you, keep you warm and pliant for him on your rougher days so he can be happily inside you after patrol. There's basically zero chance of you being alone long enough to hurt yourself.
Of course, this does NOT mean Dick is done having children with you. If anything, he's somehow going to twist the whole thing into, "Do you really want them ruining their careers having babies when you're already so good at it? They're just so busy and you look so lovely pregnant - "
Dick.
Perhaps the least comforting sentence imaginable when you're already struggling mentally after baby number two.
BUTTTT if we want to be lame and not go the surprise push-present ex-girlfriend route, then yeah, I think Bruce would love to play grandpa while Dick trains that depression out of you, gets you medicated, maybe even makes things a little worse... ahem.
If anything, he can always move you back to the manor if you're going to get a little silly in the brain. There's at least one person home at all times to keep an eye on you. And surely his siblings need a mother figure too.
Your new Bruce Wayne fic temptation is so good, will there be other parts I need to know how they met, how is she sober and does she ever move into the manor.
Hope you’re well and have a great day
AHH thank you!!
Mmmm I think MC would be a journalist? I really like the idea of you figuring out that he's Batman completely on your own and then threatening to publish it just to snag a date with Bruce Wayne. Not because you're particularly interested in him at first either. You just wanted a fancy meal...
When you're sober, I imagine you having much more black cat energy than anything else. Very cunning, independent, a little smug about having cornered Bruce Wayne into taking you out. Except then he keeps coming back. Flowers at your apartment, reservations at nicer restaurants, showing up at your work under silly excuses. He likes the chase MUCH more than you anticipated.
Mmm... I fear Bruce is also kind of weird about you moving into the manor, though. Because I imagine MC here being closer to Dick's age, maybe even Jason's, so there is definitely a part of him wondering exactly what his children will think about him dating the journalist who uncovered his secret identity and then basically blackmailed him into a nice dinner.
cough Damian cough
Eventually you DO move in though! I just think Bruce drags his feet about it for a while before somehow reaching the conclusion that keeping you at the manor is actually the much more sensible and secure option. Funny how that works.
This is usually what I'm thinking whenever I write age-gap Bruce!! Especially with the yandere bits. I really like you being cunning and intelligent in your own right, maybe even thinking you've successfully gotten one over on him at first.
Unfortunately, there will always be a bigger fish than you.
saw the comments about dick getting a vasectomy and LMAOOOO
knowing darlings luck it would only happen after they have already had a kid 😭
oh yeah definitely ONLY happening after you've had a single near-death experience while giving birth. So whether this is your first or your eleventh, it's bound to happen eventually...
He will be sobbing. Maybe from the pain, maybe because he's suddenly decided the world is cruel and unjust for making women go through childbirth in the first place 🥀 He just seems like the kinda guy to take one for the team after watching you nearly die in his arms in the birthing pool