#anti hero reader

[thewitchblue]

2

“It’s not funny.”

Jason grumbled after being laughed at hysterically. It made sense to Zatanna that Jason would need John Constantine distracted to hide a date with his sidekick because you were basically John’s child in his eyes. 

The big, bad Red Hood was here begging Zatanna to (hopefully) stop John from hitting him with a spell that turned him inside-out for daring to enter his family. Zatanna knew John was protective of anyone who enters his heart, and you weaseled your way into his heart many years ago. You were his adopted child and he was extremely overprotective. 

Zatanna decided she’ll help. 

The drama between the two families would rival Romeo and Juliet. Zatanna knew John would disapprove of any one of the Bats dating you, and she knew that dating Jason would be on par with dating Bruce in John’s eyes. She finally said once her amusement died down,

“I’ll help, but you have to promise to tell me everything.”

Zatanna decided that she’ll do it for you. You had helped her many times and she was happy to finally pay you back for all of those favours. Zatanna was happy for you despite her disapproving of who you are choosing to date. As long as Jason made you happy, it was really none of her business.

“Deal.”

Jason agreed too quickly. He was excited for this date despite all of the disapproval that will come with dating into your cursed family. Nonetheless, Jason thought you were worth it. It’s not exactly his first bad day and he lives in a cursed city regardless, so he’s not afraid of misfortune. You would be no burden on him.

Jason wouldn’t let anyone else see it, but he was a hopeless romantic who didn’t shy away from grand romantic gestures. His tough guy persona was immediately thrown out the window on the first date when he brought you flowers. Your favourite type of flowers on top of that. How did he know what your favourite flower is?

“Where did you put the camera in my flat?”

You teased playfully. Nobody has ever bought you flowers and you don’t recall ever telling your friends what flowers you liked. You weren’t sure if you had told anyone, if you were honest. Jason looked confused as he said,

“Zatanna told me what flowers you loved as a kid. I assumed your opinion didn’t change.”

It was a safe assumption to be made, but one that you wouldn’t have had enough confidence to buy. Jason knew you better than you had thought just through silent observations or previous conversations that you never thought could influence the date so heavily. 

You gave him a quick kiss before leaving the doorstep to put the flowers in a vase. Jason looked dazed when you came back and only returned to reality when your hand slid into his with a smile on your face.

“Let’s go, Prince Charming.”

You teased playfully. Jason shook his head as if he needed to shake away his thoughts before guiding you to whatever date location he decided to set up. 

Jason wrapped his arm around you as you walked, trying and failing to hide him scanning the area for any danger as you walked. Gotham habits die hard. You accepted when Jason pulled you in by your waist and kissed the top of your head. He was confident in the date going smoothly.

He was right. The date had been going smoothly until Robin landed from a ceiling panel and into your dinner. You blinked in stunned silence as Robin glared up at another ceiling panel before rolling off your demolished soup. Why is he even in the UK? Your eyes turned to Jason, who just placed his face in his head like he’s aged fifty years in the span of two seconds. He groaned into his hands and stood up, presumably to throw this tiny terror out of the restaurant before the teenager was joined by Nightwing. Jason didn’t seem to care about the 2v1 because he grabbed both of their wrists to drag them kicking and screaming if he must.

You eyed the scene, downed the rest of your drink, then teleported the two date crashers away alongside Spoiler who fell a few meters away and onto a different table.

“Is that everybody or are there more people in the ceiling?”

You asked after Jason came to terms with the fact his family crashed his date. Jason sighed heavily before screaming at the ceiling,

“Leave me alone, asshats!”

You gave him a sympathetic look until your dad arrived. You grabbed Jason’s wrist and teleported both of you away rather than face the fury of your father. Jason scowled. Where is Zatanna? She was supposed to handle him!

Jason slammed into your couch from the air with you landing on him. You didn’t trust that John didn’t pull out a forgotten spellbook to test out on Jason. Jason carefully sat up and let you land smoothly onto his lap rather than crush his chest and lungs.

“I’m sorry about them.”

Jason said after a long moment of you both panting like you avoided a certain and slow death rather than, much more likely, a lengthy lecture with a powerpoint presentation discouraging your relationship. Jason looked like he would rather die than have this discussion with his family. He was beginning to understand Romeo’s position with loving Juliet.

“It’s ok. We can spend the rest of the night here. My dad doesn’t have a key and I have teleportation wards to protect my house from visitors.”

Jason relaxed into the couch and nodded. He was going to hate returning to Gotham, but he can enjoy the next few hours with you and deal with the consequences as they appear. You leaned on him and started laughing in sheer disbelief with Jason joining you soon after. This situation was only going to make your relationship stronger. Jason and you thrive off of spite at this point in life. Nobody was about to tell you how to live your life and Jason was far from the worst option in the world of heroes and anti-heroes. Jason was going to be yours and you were going to be Jason’s for as long as possible. Bruce and John don’t have a say in your lives anymore.

[fallen-angel2470]

Yandere batfam x neglected!Reader w/ rare powers

The darkness was comforting. It embraced you in a way that no one else ever had. It whispered your name, coiled around your fingertips, and obeyed your every command. The shadows had become your closest companions, the only ones who had never abandoned you.

The Batfamily had.

They left you in the cold, in the silence, in the emptiness of their grand home. You were nothing more than a ghost to them, an afterthought. While they fawned over their prodigies, their golden children, you faded into obscurity, swallowed by neglect. But neglect breeds resilience. It breeds power.

And you had become something greater than they ever could have imagined.

You were never meant to be part of their perfect picture.

Bruce had taken you in, not out of love, but out of obligation—another stray to add to his collection, another soldier for his never-ending war. But unlike the others, you were not trained with care or patience. You were overlooked, handed off to trainers who saw you as nothing more than a shadow in the making. When you bled, no one noticed. When you screamed, no one listened.

They told you to be better, to be stronger, to be quiet.

You learned quickly.

You trained yourself in the dead of night, pushing past exhaustion, past pain. The shadows became your only comfort, your only company. They whispered secrets to you, showed you how to slip between spaces unseen, how to be more than just forgotten. You mastered your abilities in silence, weaving nightmares into reality, bending minds to your will.

And when the time came, you disappeared without a trace.

No one searched for you.

No one cared.

You wandered the streets of Gotham, learning the true depths of its filth, the rot that Batman refused to tear out at its roots. You saw the victims, the forgotten, the ones who screamed for help but were drowned out by the sirens of a city that never stopped bleeding.

And so you gave them vengeance.

Gotham whispered of a new terror in the underworld. Criminals spoke in hushed voices of a specter that moved with the night itself, a being who could snuff out life with nothing but a thought. They called you ‘Erebus’—a name whispered with fear, with reverence.

You walked among the dead, your power humming beneath your skin. Thanatokinesis had become second nature, a gift and a curse. Life and death were playthings to you now, but you were not without restraint. You had a code. A line you would not cross.

You didn’t kill the innocent.

But mercy was a luxury you did not afford the wicked.

Rapists. Traffickers. Corrupt officials who lined their pockets with blood money. They were the ones who disappeared, their shadows stretching unnaturally long before consuming them whole. You did what Batman never could—what he never would.

But your power extended beyond death and darkness.

You could feel the chaos in the city, taste it in the air like electricity before a storm. And if you wished, you could unravel it, twist fate and disorder to your will. Your neural manipulation allowed you to bend the minds of your enemies, force them to see horrors beyond comprehension or lull them into a stupor of blissful ignorance. A flick of your fingers, and a criminal would drop their gun, forgetting why they had even picked it up. Another flick, and their worst nightmares became reality, sending them into madness.

Your evolution did not stop there.

The mirrors spoke to you now.

They called you into their fractured world, whispering secrets only you could understand. You discovered the art of mirror disillusion, a power that allowed you to step through reflections, to create false realities within their depths. A man could look into a mirror and see a paradise, only to realize he had never left its confines. Or worse, you could trap them in their own distorted nightmare, an eternal prison where their worst fears came to life over and over again.

The Batfamily? They had no idea. Not yet.

“Something’s wrong,” Bruce muttered, his brow furrowed as he stared at the reports spread across the Batcomputer.

“This Erebus guy has been taking out criminals left and right,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t say I hate it.”

“It’s not just criminals,” Dick interjected. “Some of these bodies were never found. It’s like they just... vanished.”

Bruce exhaled sharply. “We find them before they go too far.”

Too late.

You were standing on the rooftops of Gotham when they came for you.

It was poetic, in a way. The family that had cast you aside now sought to reclaim you—not out of love, but out of fear.

“Erebus,” Bruce called, his voice firm. “Step down. We don’t want to fight you.”

You chuckled, shadows curling at your feet like obedient pets. “You don’t even know who I am.”

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Then tell us.”

You stepped forward, letting the moonlight illuminate your face. You felt their collective intake of breath, saw the realization dawn in their eyes.

“Y/N?”

Your smirk was sharp. “Surprised?”

The moonlight glinted off the black eyepatch covering your left eye—the scar beneath it a cruel reminder of the past. A gift from Damian, from the night he had slashed through your vision in the name of training, in the name of proving himself better.

Dick took a step toward you. “We—We thought—”

“That I just disappeared? That I wasn’t worth looking for?” Shadows coiled tighter around you. “You made it clear I was nothing to you. But Gotham? Gotham sees me.”

“You’ve been killing people,” Damian accused, hand gripping his sword.

You tilted your head. “Only the ones who deserved it.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Bruce interjected.

Your laughter was hollow. “And who decides then? The courts that let monsters walk free? You think your code makes you better, but all it does is keep the filth alive.”

Tim’s voice was quieter, hesitant. “You’re becoming a villain.”

You regarded him with an amused glint in your eye. “Villain? No. I’m justice without restraint. I don’t play games with murderers and rapists. I don’t lock them up just to watch them crawl back out.”

Dick’s expression was desperate. “Come back home. We can fix this.”

“Home?” You sneered. “You mean that place where I was nothing more than a shadow?” The darkness around you flared. “I have a home now. A purpose.”

Bruce’s eyes darkened. “Then we’ll bring you back. One way or another.”

You sighed, almost disappointed. “You’re still thinking like a detective, Bruce. Still thinking you’re in control.”

And then you reached out—not physically, but with your mind. The chaos stirred. The Batfamily’s senses wavered, their vision blurring as the very fabric of their thoughts twisted. The mirrors nearby shimmered, distorting their reflections into monstrous parodies of themselves, illusions so real they gasped in horror.

Your smile was eerie, something inhuman flickering in your gaze. “You can try.”

And then the night consumed you whole.

Umbrakinesis- control of the shadows and dark beings Thanatokinesis- manipulation of life and death Neural manipulation- controling the mind and reprogramming it Chaos manipulation- control of chaos

[stellasfictionalworld]

\\in spite of darkness//

superman x anti-hero!reader 

pt. 1: first impressions matter

pt.2: sun sickness (OUT NOW)

all chapters

black cat x golden retriever !! darkness manipulation yay yay :)) takes place a year before the movie btw

cw: mentions of blood, injuries, violence, swearing, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns, not proof read, also i hope i don’t miss characterize clark AHH

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <333

—

you’ve lived in metropolis all your life, you loved the city with all your heart. your compassion for the dear city led you to use your abilities to protect it. you lived in the southside of the city. where things were more rough, unfortunate, and violent…

you were a “hero” before superman came into the picture, well you weren’t as well known as him. you clung to the shadows, punishing those who wouldn’t learn, who’d hurt the innocent people in your city. your name was rarely whispered, people were afraid if they’d say it too many times you’d appear like beetlejuice. 

the phantom.

your name was never on a headline, overtime though you’d found a blog or two. you shut them all down after pulling a few strings, unfortunately you weren’t a huge tech whiz. you were able to loop camera footage, interfere with walkie talkies, and find ways to get into buildings (with or without force, depending on the day.) the basics. the darkness helped conceal your appearance even if a camera picked you up, and you secretly liked the identity of the boogie man. however, after the first year of your vigilante business. suddenly many posts on social media about a shadow in allies, beating people (who you think deserved it) to a pulp, telling them to remember your lesson. 

luckily, around that time, superman flew into your city. a true superhero. you remember the breath of relief you let out as the press focused on him, and all the social media posts of you were pushed far back into the corner of the internet. big blue making headlines almost daily and you had to say you were impressed. the man was compassionate, genuine, and did everything he could to help everyone. he barely used an ounce of his strength on a robber, while the robber you chased down visited the hospital before heading to jail. the idiots you dealt with lips trembled when they spoke your name while superman’s idiots were a little more relieved he was there to stop them instead. 

you still helped the people in your city, mainly as a civilian. you’d made a name for yourself as the phantom, a dark cloaked figure that only revealed themselves to punish others. you figured you’d help the old lady carry groceries home wearing sneakers, jeans, a white-t. you’d climb a tree without using your powers, to get that damn cat, snowball, down from the tree for the third time that week. your arms scratched while you returned the white feline (you were pretty sure was the devil) to its owner. you helped at your local food bank, chatting with your neighbors. you were just being a good samaritan. 

some days though you slept through the entire day, it was obvious your sleep schedule was fucked either way. your eye bags were apparent no matter how hard you tried to hide them. when you were in civilian mode, you told people you worked as a security guard, working only night shifts. Technically, you were guarding the city at night. how’d you afford your apartment? well… the goons weren’t going to need ALL that cash since they were going to jail… 

you rarely made appearances during the day time as is, since most of the shady stuff happened at night. however, you made exceptions. superman had been in metropolis for 2 years then. you in your apartment, dozing in and out of darkness. literally. when you slept you became enveloped in it, it had terrified your parents as a child, but you found comfort in it. you fell into the shadows like it was second nature. in between brief moments of being awake you caught the news headlines constantly changing. a live report about superman’s fight against a single magic user. it seemed to be going well but somehow this magic user had been there for over– hold on– you sat up in your seat– OVER AN HOUR?

not a single member of that fuckass justice gang was there either? you watched your laptop screen, noting superman’s movement, he’d slowed down. he had enough energy to still save civilians constantly but not enough time to give another blow to the magician. you got up from from your chair, falling back, your body enveloped in darkness. your fingers reached for your eye mask with white slits in them. you switched out the rest of your clothes for your dark one piece suit and then threw on your cloak. your mask was there incase, you needed to show a semi-kind face to a civilian in need. while your victims received a cloak that belonged to a face of a swirling void. 

you let the shadows pull you in many directions, till you found the right place. you never saw where you were going, but it always just felt right to you, so you emerged from the shadows. your boots hit the ground without a sound as you strode out of the alley. there was a park ahead, tall buildings surrounded it. most civilians had cleared the area by now, you stopped in front of an abandoned car. eyes slightly going wide at realizing many elements were decorated across the city. it was summer, but you were freezing all of a sudden, it was colder than your very own shadows. icicles, snow were decorated around the park and there were large holes in the ground. you realized there were boulders wedged into a couple buildings and suddenly smoke filled your nose. 

you were brought back to reality, just as it became dark. thunder rumbled as you looked up, the magician floated in the air, looking untouchable. you could barely see the smug look on his face as he held something in between his hands. it looked like he’d conjured a red sun in between his palms, emulating his face. this magician was a master of elements, conjuring suns in his palm, starting fires. 

the ground rumbled under your feet as you saw superman emerge, he was in the air again. not aiming for the magician but the building enveloped in smoke. he didn’t make it. the magician created a wall of the same sun he held in his hands, superman let out a shout as he fell down. you blinked, surprised superman was in pain, before quickly bending the shadows. he fell into the shadow that looked like a large manhole before completely disappearing. 

he was in your dimension for the moment, you were tempted to keep him there, sort the situation yourself. the building on fire crackled. you sighed, knowing better not to have the man of steel being annoyed by you. first impressions were important afterall, plus civilians' lives were at stake. your turned to your shadow that rose to stand in front of you before spitting out the man. he squinted while stumbling forward, emerging from the inkiness. you caught his arm, having to root your feet to the ground so you wouldn’t fall down with him. you were eye level with the emblem on his chest which was dirtied now. 

“what– where was i?” he asked and you looked up at him. he was more breathtaking in person. the clouds lets some light pass through, coating him in sunlight. handsome, blue sky eyes, and his black hair was damp due to sweat, a single curl still stuck to his forehead. his face was dirtied due to dirt, blood and his skin still sizzled with a new open gash on his right cheek. his forearm in your hand was so weighted, god, how did he not sucker punch this magician yet? 

“shadow realm,” you answered coolly, you were thankful your heartbeat wasn’t pounding against your chest at the moment. it seemed he was too out of sorts to focus on that anyway, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. 

“what’s your problem? you’ve let this guy use you as his own personal punching bag,” you said, letting go of his arm slowly. he managed to stand on his own, he swallowed thickly. 

his eyes back on the blazing building, “those people…” he choked up and you followed his gaze. “i got them out, don’t worry big guy,” you tapped his chest. using your like disappearing shadow trick to move the civilians. 

“thank you,” he looked down at you with soft blue eyes, your heart may have skipped a beat.

“phantom,” he sounded uncertain. you nodded, “so you have heard of me,” you said quietly and nodded.

“yeah, i’ve heard of you and the way you handle–” a bolt of thunder interrupted him and you both whipped your heads up. immediately the man stood in front of you, his tall frame blocking your view (not that you minded honestly). 

“are you two gonna chit chat or fight me?” the wizard asked. you tilted your head to the side so you could see the wizard. the magic user was still holding the miniature sun in his hand. you eyed it curiously, remembering the wall he’d created that left a mark on superman. 

“the red sun,” you muttered and superman whipped his head back to you.

“what?” he asked quickly. 

“i can make it disappear, and then you can beat this asshole right?” you asked, needing the clarification. 

“yeah,” he seemed hesitant to agree but he didn’t have much of a choice. you were a hero, it he seemed aware of your… “methods”, but he had a good feeling about you. “you can get rid of it, you’re sure?” he asked, looking at you through a different lens, making sure you were strong enough. you scoffed, “watch me,” you said, sinking into the shadows. 

“wait!” he stepped closer to your shadow pool but you were gone, “nevermind…” he said to cement. he stared at the wizard, standing tall, hovering a couple inches off the ground. it happened so quickly, suddenly a shadow emerged around the ball of sun in the old man’s hands. when the shadow disappeared, superman immediately knocked out the wizard and you’d vanished. 

… 

superman stayed to help out after the battle. he helped civilians to get to the nearest hospital, he helped a kid find their mom, and he did his best to clean up the area. he also kept an eye out for you, his eyes lingering on shadows but he never saw you. after the clean up, he went back home. he’d soaked up plenty of yellow sun earlier, his wounds had healed quickly. it was the first time superman almost lost, the thought troubled him. luckily, you’d crept out of your usual shadows and came to help him. save him really, if he was honest. 

clark could only think about you as he finished his nightly ritual. his bed creaked as he laid down on the comforter that felt like a cloud at the moment. he sighed. something didn’t feel right as he fought his eyes from closing. not single sign from you that you were okay… maybe he’d check in with you. that is, if he could even manage to hold an audience with the phantom.

clark couldn’t help himself as he read up on blogs about you. not even a single article from the daily planet or any other news outlet. he was hunched over his desk as usual, pushing up his glasses occasionally. all he got was your hero name, which everyone knew and he thought he finally had found something. someone had commented under the blog, a link. clark looked around, made sure to turn down the volume so only he could hear. he was hoping it wasn’t a link that would crash his computer. 

a video loaded up on his screen, his pointer finger tapped against his desk. he waited with baited breath, and huzzah it started. the quality was crap, it was night, a single street lamp gave light in the alley. whoever took the video had half their phone tucked in their pocket, creating a black square at the bottom of footage. it was the recorder and older man wearing a hoodie. 

“you got the money?” the man asked with a sly grin. clark frowned, not liking where this was going. then the recorder spoke, and oh boy he didn’t like the situation at all.

“y-yeah,” the teen spoke. 

“good,” the older man held his hand out, and clark’s frown deepened. the man was clearly selling a substance to the kid. clark picked up something in the background of the video, like a swoosh sound, yet subtle. the lamp flickered for a split second and the kid handed the money. 

the man started to count out the money and then the video goes completely dark. 

“what the–” the man says before going quiet. a minute proceeds to go on with the kid breathing rapidly in the darkness before the sound of something hits the floor. then it’s silent for another 5 seconds and the darkness slowly fades away. the video is still blocked halfway but this time the footage is on a street.

“call 911,” you whisper and the kid turns around and you're standing tall. half your hood in view, inside is a swirl of darkness. he lets out a scream and clark swears you rolled your eyes, even though he can’t see your face. you sigh, the darkness disappears from your face, you don’t pull your hood down. however he can see the glimpse of a mask, your face hiding under it. he wishes there were more details to the video, he could see a glimpse of your hair color though.

“c’mon kid, you’re not gonna be in trouble here,” you tell him cooly, “i’ll stay with you till your parents come,” you told him assuredly, he swears he can hear a genuine smile through your voice. it’s smooth like silk and warm, not the blunt way you’d spoken to superman yesterday.

“you just watching that video?” jimmy speaks up and clark jumps in his seat. he quickly closes out the tab and he swivels around in his chair. before clark can say anything, jimmy puts his hands up in self defense with a cup in hand, “i didn’t know you were interested in the phantom, that’s all,” he assured. 

“and you are?” clark asked curiously, “what do you know?” he asked. jimmy shrugged and took a sip of his drink. “i know they’re a real life boogieman,” he let out an exasperated, “now getting a photo of her, would be one of my life’s biggest achievements," he said. 

“you sound like you want more than a photo,” lois said while passing both of them. jimmy coughs up his drink and shakes his head. he didn’t have time to recover as lois gives clark a pointed look. she stops in front of his desk, “just stick to your superman pieces, clark. the phantom is dangerous,” she lowered her voice. the two men leaned in as she looked around before revealing her big news. 

“i heard when she started getting popular after 6 months in the city, a reporter had found her. they attempted to interview her, so she kept disappearing at first. then when the reporter barratted her, she snapped. the reporter ended up stuck on top of the lex corp building,” lois spoke quickly yet quietly. 

“totally, one of my,” he struggled to find something, “...friends knew her. she was from a small news outlet. reporter wanted a story, ended up stuck their all night, brutal,” jimmy said and clark was in disbelief. he’d been in metropolis for 2 years, and this was the first he heard of you. especially placing an innocent (annoying) civilian on the city's tallest building was much in his opinion.

“yep,” lois formed a thin line with lips, “so stay out of her way clark,” she warned him.

“unless you wanna help me take a photo,” jimmy joked and lois hit him with a newspaper. “ow,” he whined dramatically and rubbed his arm. “why are you asking by the way?” jimmy asked. 

clark stared up at the two and they both had cheshire cat smiles. they were greedy to get the latest scoop. “just heard the name for the first time, so i was curious," he told them with an apologetic smile. it sold them, for now at least. 

“too bad,” jimmy said.  

once clark was left at peace all he could think of was you, your soft words replaying in his head. he’d now gotten a proper idea of you in action too, you’d sent that dealer to the hospital. he was infuriated by the dealer as well but he’d never had hurt him, not enough to go to the hospital at least. it gave him a lot to think about and he still wanted to cover all his bases. the justice gang was never too far...

[hard-core-super-star]

kissing in the crossfire [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x anti-hero!reader

summary: you and kate are better off apart. unfortunately, you can't stay away from each other long enough to realize some puzzle pieces aren't meant to fit together.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries; so much bickering; sprinkles of important backstory stuff; kate and R are exes and it's complicated; technically angst but there's humor :) [kate does aim her bow at R though so...yeah]

wordcount: 1.9k

a/n: GUESS WHO'S BACK AFTER SAYING THEY WERE BACK AND THEN DISAPPEARING PRACTICALLY ALL MONTH? ...did you guess right? anywho, this is a long-awaited request made by 🧞‍♀️ anon a LONG while ago. i...got a little carried away with this so do with that information what you will. i'll probably come back with some fluff to make up for this later. anyway, hope you enjoy, sending you love <3

* * * * * * *

“You can’t be serious.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I had anywhere else to go, Bishop.” You offer her a smile from your spot on her kitchen counter. “By the way, you should probably hide your spare key somewhere else, that plant is too obvious.”

She opens her mouth, ready to say something witty back, but she stops once she fully notices your appearance. The torn-up clothes, the bruises scattered across your face, the blood trailing from your busted lip. She crosses the space between you in an instant, concern written all over her features despite how hard she tries to hide it.

“What happened?” 

“Had an unfortunate run-in with some old friends of ours,” you explain. “I think they’re still holding a grudge.”

She sighs but you can't tell if it's because of your injuries or the ones you've inflicted tonight. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

“Where else would I go?” you reply, the slightest hint of sarcasm in your tone.

Kate either doesn't hear you or pretends not to in favor of walking away to find her first-aid kit. You could tell her most of the blood on your clothes isn't yours but that would only serve to start up the same old argument with her. 

An argument that cost you the only healthy relationship you've ever had.

Although, in your defense, it’s not like the archer is entirely blameless for what happened…not that she’d ever admit that out loud when it’s so much easier to blame all your mutual problems on your lack of self-restraint.

“How bad is it?” Her voice brings you out of your thoughts but, unfortunately for you, your reality is just as bad as the memories attached to those blue eyes.

You shrug. “I’ve had better days.”

“Yeah, no kidding, idiot.”

It’s impossible to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her words even if you know there’s nothing but concern under her sarcasm. Concern that’s evident in the way she approaches you, soft and hesitant and nothing like the impulsive archer you know her to be.

It’s exactly the care you want, the care you need. You need Kate like the oxygen you breathe but you can’t bring yourself to let your walls down again. Maybe it’s stupid or petty or maybe you just like arguing with her a bit too much.

“You’re a terrible nurse,” you complain as she stands between your legs, a silent question shining in the depths of her eyes.

You send the smallest of nods her way despite how ridiculous her nervousness is. You’ve had more intimate moments than this and yet she lifts your shirt out of the way with the shakiest hands you’ve ever seen. You’d make fun of her if you weren’t just as nervous as she is right now.

It's the kind of nervousness that comes with the vulnerability you can't show around anyone else. 

You've always had to be the strong one. The fast one. The one with unrelenting fists and an even more unrelenting sense of duty, whether that duty falls on the right side of the law or not. But Kate’s always been the one that looks through all of that…except your tendency to sort problems out with your fists.

You flinch when she drags an antiseptic wipe over the small gash across your stomach. “What happened to the warning?” You grumble, pretending like you can’t see the small smile that spreads along her face.

“You seemed too spaced out to need one.”

“So charming, no wonder all the girls throw themselves at you when you walk by.”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like you have an empty bed every night either.”

You know what she means but you can’t stop yourself from making fun of her. There are few things in the world that bring you as much joy as watching Kate trip over her own words.

“Are you calling me a whore, Bishop?” All it takes is a subtle raise of your eyebrow to send the brunette into a flustered ramble.

“What? No! Of course not- I mean, not that there’s anything, um, wrong with that, but-”

The sound of your uncontrollable laughter manages to stop her before she digs herself into a bigger hole. The laughter shakes your entire body and you both have to try really hard to ignore the way her hands brush against your skin every time you make those small movements. 

Not so long ago, she would have taken the opportunity to wrap her arms around you and pull you close. Today, she merely watches you laugh at her with the rosiest cheeks you’ve seen lately.

“You’re an asshole,” she says, rolling her eyes before going back to patching you up.

Although, her version of  “patching you up” pretty much only involves disinfecting the area and wrapping some gauze around your waist. She’s learned a lot from Clint but she’s still absolutely clueless when it comes to these things. Which forces you to question why you’re even here in the first place…except you don’t want to accept the answer.

She finishes her work on your stomach without another witty comment despite how badly she wants to point out how badly you flinch every time she moves. Instead of doing that, she settles her attention on your face. Mainly your bleeding lip and bruised jaw.

“Hold still.” Her whispered words are the only warning you get before she takes your face in her hands. You flinch and let out a soft groan when her fingers brush said bruise but you don’t move away. You’re captivated by those soft blue eyes despite how badly you wish you weren’t.

“Kate.” You don’t mean to say her name but it slips out before you can stop it. “You don't have to. You…you’ve done enough. I should go.”

“You’re still bleeding,” she says as if that’s enough of a reason.

And maybe it would be.

But there’s too much baggage between you for that.

“And whose fault is that?”

You don’t know why you say it, you just know you’re still hurt and that soft look on her face isn’t helping you accept the past. What happened isn’t really her fault, you know that. Accidents happen all the time in your line of business but she promised she would be there.

And she wasn’t.  

And now you have two less family members and an unbelievable amount of people who want Kate’s head delivered to them in a box.

Kate Bishop single-handedly ruined your life by being the idiotic fool you love more than anything. But love doesn’t fit anywhere on your list of responsibilities. At least not anymore.

“y/n,” she sighs. “Let me help. Let me fix it.”

For a second, it sounds like she’s begging you to stay. To ignore the past and the many reasons why you should walk out that door and never talk to her again.

Her shaky hands pull you closer to her, drawing you in toward her sad eyes and parted lips. All you can do is watch, rendered speechless by her mere existence and the hammering of your heart as it tries to escape your chest.

It’s not until her mouth is mere inches away from yours that you manage to escape her spell. 

“You can’t fix this.”

That’s the only warning you give her before you shrug her hands off your face and rise to your feet. You pretend you can’t see the thin layer of tears that gathers in her eyes as you force yourself to walk away.

It’s not until you slam her front door behind you that she breaks down. 

And maybe you do too but you’ll never let her know that.

Needless to say, you spend the next few days miserable and irritable as hell. Which means you’re quick to accept the first job that gets thrown your way…without reading the entire folder filled with important information.

You only know who your target is and where he’ll be…with special security, courtesy of the Young Avengers.

Turns out, reading the entirety of the folders you’re given is a good idea, who would’ve thought, right?

Things fall apart almost as soon as they start due to you getting too into your own head about things and messing up your perfectly crafted plan, resulting in more than a few punches to the jaw and missed gunshots. Your target attempts to flee onto the roof and you’re quick to follow after him, leaving a huge scene in the lobby of the fanciest building you’ve ever been in.

You make it onto the roof in record time, ready to chase after your target but of course, when have things ever been easy?

“y/n!”

You groan, cursing Kate’s awful timing. “Do we have to do this right now?”

The answer comes in the form of an arrow whizzing right past your ear. 

Your shock morphs into anger in no less than five seconds, forcing you to forget your mission in favor of yelling at the idiotic archer you can’t help but still love. It’s more than obvious to you that Kate’s just trying to waste your time but you’ve never been one to walk away from an argument with her.

“Did you just shoot one of your stupid arrows at me?” You turn around to face her, quickly realizing she’s still aiming at you, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration while she watches you. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What the hell are you doing?” She responds. “Do you know who you’re working for?”

“You already know the answer to that,” you say while barely suppressing the urge to roll your eyes at her.

“Then you know exactly what I’m doing.”

Kate’s focus is unbreakable. She pays no mind to anything but her perfectly aimed bow and your reactions. The stray hairs that have fallen out of her ponytail are completely ignored, only serving to capture her and her natural perfection, the one that’s filled with chaos and stubbornness and a fire that’s unlike anything you’ve ever known.

You’re more than used to that fire…you’ve just never had it directed at you in the shape of a sharp arrow aimed right at your face.

If you were anyone else, maybe someone gentle or someone patient, or maybe someone not weighed down by so much trauma, you’d do the right thing and talk to the archer like an adult. But you’re not anyone else. You’re someone who thinks better with their fists than with their head.

And for a split second, you almost treat Kate like she’s anyone else other than the one person you’ve always loved.

“You’re-” 

Your complaint gets cut short the second she lets her arrow fly.

It finds its target a few inches away from your feet and if Kate were to look hard enough, she’d find the real fear that’s started to slip into your features. “Don’t move.”

You swallow down the urge to spit out a snarky response at her face.

“Are you seriously going to shoot me?”

The seconds that go by are unbearable. You can hear the wind and the tension it carries between the two of you, you can make out the sound of New York traffic on the streets below, and if you focus hard enough, you can even hear Kate’s heavy breathing. 

What you don’t hear, though, is an answer.

[xarexraven]

Random Genshin Idea

Imagine the reader is an anti hero in genshin and is one of the fatui harbingers who was forced to join. Every member who worked under her had a similar reason for joining such as being forced, or didn’t have a choice, etc. and that has become the reason why every fatui member who works under her are extremely close to each other like a tight-knitted family. To others who aren’t working under her, she is known as the kitsune for being cunning, intelligent, elusive, tricks, very good insight, silver tongue, and an enigma.

To the ones who worked under her, they see her as a family member. Plus points if there are kids that need to be babysat while keeping the fatui business a secret from them? Done! They can bring their kids or toddler siblings to the reader's headquarters. Tutor? No problem. No one to watch over them while parents who work under her are on a long mission? They can just bring them and the reader would be the one taking care of them. Imagine that the kids of the fatui members became close friends due to that. Then they would have a lot of doting aunts, uncles, and older siblings who are working under her.

She is against the idea of killing people but, orders are orders from superiors and it needs to be followed in order not to raise any suspicions towards her. But there are times that she will be the one who will judge if the target really deserved to be killed or not, especially the witnesses. Imagine using the destruction and fire to villages, and she and the other members used it as a cover to help the witnesses escape and guided them to her (insert her home town or city) for refuge. And in return, all they ask for the witnesses is to keep the whole thing a secret due to the reputation that needs to be held. The ones who worked under her were extremely skilled in looking for information and tactics. They do this out of spite due to their dreams being broken and all.

She may have the reputation as the kitsune, but deep down despite all the blood that has coated her hands, she still wanted to help anybody in her own way. She still cares but she would only show it towards the ones who are worthy enough to see it or when they are outside of their work. She would still give nudges and any indirect help towards the Mc, the favonious knights, or the Quixing without letting the ones pick up her intention due to the image that she needs to put up. Plus points if the traveler and few others noticed, they never mentioned it or they figured out the reason.

Edit: also plus points if the subordinates who worked under her were the chaotic bunch out of the rest.

It is up to you guys if you want to write this as an inspiration for a headcanon or not. I just like to share ideas that randomly pops out and leaves in a flash.

[thewitchblue]

"Look. I'm not doing another job for the League of Assassins. You drugged me before the fight last time."

You said gruffly. You are a gun for hire and previously trained under Talia and Ra's. You became their object of obsession once you started proving yourself among the ranks. Well, you proved yourself too much. They never wanted you to leave. They figured if they could kill you and bring you back, you'd never leave again.

You fought almost perfectly with only a few gashes, but that battle sealed your fate. You became entrusted with their most precious weapons against Batman: Jason Todd and Damian Al Ghul. You were trusted with Jason while another unfortunate soul took Damian. You were brutal, efficient, and corrected whatever sloppy teaching Batman instilled in him before his death.

Talia knew you wanted an out after spending so many hours fixing Batman's poor training, so she sent you with Jason to Gotham at the completion of his training, and the rest is his story to tell. You don't care to relive those days.

Talia draped her arms leisurely around your shoulders and said in that same seductive voice from all those years ago,

"You know you want to play, beloved. If money won't make you work, maybe something else could."

She never gave up her foxy ways. You barked a laugh. You weren't getting trapped so easily. She should know better than to try seduction on you. Whatever plan she has with you won't happen.

"I'm a gun, not a toy. You can get Black Mask or Deadshot to do whatever you need done."

She sighed like you were being difficult for no reason. They needed you specifically, and you weren't quite sure why. Before you could stand up to leave, and she said in an unapologetic tone,

"I'm sorry, beloved. I can't have you leave me again."

It hit you immediately. The cunning viper drugged you. The last thing you saw was her winking while holding a now empty needle. What did you expect from the League? You never truly leave their claws.

You hissed when you woke up as the harsh sunlight hit you. You knew immediately you were back at the League of Assassins' main base. You were being dragged somewhere, no doubt to Ra's and his throne room. You heard the muffled voices of the guards. The one closest said,

"I can't believe they want Talia to marry someone who is unobservant enough to get drugged."

Another guard chuckled, but the one guard behind him hit the back of the speaker's head and harshly said,

"The king would have your tongue for disrespecting his decision."

The speaker loosened her hold on your arm to rub the back of her head. It was just loose enough for you to get out of the group of guards. You may be in the main base with thousands of skilled assassins, but you will have no disrespect on your name. You weren't considered the best for nothing.

The guards who were encasing you five seconds ago immediately drew their weapons but soon became uncertain. Can they really attack you? You are potentially becoming the next ruler. What can they do without dying?

You rolled your eyes while dodging the most obvious drugging attempt in the world. To the trained eye, at least. It was a panicked reaction and sloppy enough for you to take the needle and stab the stupid man instead. What a joke.

"Have the standards gone down in my absence?"

You grumbled, but everybody heard you. There were hushed whispers that they thought you couldn't hear. You wrestled out a gun that was pointed at you and killed people until it ran out of bullets.

Talia stepped in. She must have left the throne room when she heard the chaos. She only wore that outfit around her father. Talia approached before anybody could accompany her.

"Care to call off the guard dogs?"

You asked her in a stern tone. Talia gave you a faint smirk and told the guards to disperse as you threw the empty gun to the side. Talia's eyes sparkled with mischief as she stepped close enough to force you to wrap your arms around her just so you could push her away. Talia trailed a hand along the length of your arm until it cupped your face. Her voice was silky as she asked,

"Why fight against me? You are my betrothed."

You pushed her further away from you and scanned her for anything she might have on her. You have a good enough eye to recognise hidden weapons, and she had none. She was so confident in her fighting skills that she was willing to fight against you despite the knife you had acquired. Brave or stupid. It's yet to be determined.

"I didn't agree to this."

You told her. She batted her eyelashes with a playful pout. She was going to get what she wanted at any cost. She tried to move your hands to her waist, but you didn't budge. Not. Happening.

"You don't need to resist me, my treasure. We can learn to love each other again."

You gritted your teeth. She's burned you far too many times. You had to applaud her persuasion skills nonetheless. She had you considering abandoning the life and reputation you built for yourself for a second.

You sighed deeply and let your tight grip on her fall. You were so sick of the League, but maybe they would leave you alone if you followed through with this insane idea. Maybe they would be less obnoxious about their meddling, at least.

"If I can continue my current life then fine."

Talia gave a hum as if she was uninterested in negotiations. She was too busy eyeing you like she was ready to pounce. You rolled your eyes. Talia will never change, but you were soon being led to your doom. You are signing your soul to the demon head for eternity one way or another. They have lucky mind control options, after all. Congratulations to the loving couple.

[thewitchblue]

You muttered to yourself while bundling your coat further around your freezing body. Winter in the UK was as grey and miserable as every year while you trudged through the streets, but tonight was a rare night that you could take time off, so you were grateful.

There was no magical nonsense to interrupt you tonight. John said he'd handle whatever pops up tonight, so you could relax in your flat with the bottle of whiskey John gifted you. You removed your gloves and coat after entering your home and sat heavily on a chair in your living room.

You had thought John was exaggerating when he said he was busy until you became his official sidekick. You showed up when he couldn't and that had you travelling the world so often that you forgot where your actual home even was in the first place. His training was instilled in you and you've even surpassed him in several areas.

You would have smiled at the peace, if Batman didn't call you the second you sat down. You groaned as the familiar ringtone cuts through the peaceful atmosphere of your home. You had thought you silenced the bloody thing.

"What do you want?"

You said gruffly through the phone when you accepted the call. The last time Bruce called was the apocalypse that you helped save all of them from. You're the one they call when the world is doomed.

"The Justice League is compromised. We are calling to ask for aid."

You gave Batman a bitter smile through the phone. He clearly didn't want your help, but he needed it. Batman never wants your help, often calling you a Constantine mini-me and that you're a grenade waiting to explode. You, personally, didn't think you were as trigger happy as Batman seemed to think. You asked after a long pause of silence,

"Is Nightwing there?"

Dick Grayson was your situationship and everybody knew about it. Neither of you could quite pin down whether you were dating each other or just fooling around until someone better comes along, so it lingered in the air unaddressed. Despite both of you coming to a silent understanding that you are exclusive, it still felt like a step neither of you wanted to commit to.

"Yes, he's here."

Bruce confirmed in a voice that made it clear there would be no "funny business" between you both on his watch. That was all that needed to be said before you teleported to the edge of the battlefield. Your eyes turned towards the threat before narrowing in thought.

"Can't have one night without this bullshit."

You grumbled as you looked at the army that was overwhelming the heroes. What a wonderful way to spend your time. Your eyes scanned the battlefield before landing on the source of their problem: a projector that was forming illusionary threats. Threats that looked so real that they were even physical manifestations. Your eyes looked for the real operator as you used a spell to crush the projector.

The threats all evaporated, leaving only one guy left. You sighed. Everybody had been too tied up in fighting that even the people who realised what was happening couldn't leave their comrades to fend for themselves to investigate.

You murmured a quick spell that immediately tied up the new villain in unbreakable magical rope before he could cause any more illusions. How uneventful.

Dick's head snapped up to scan the area once he saw the ropes appear. He'd recognise your magic anywhere. You were somewhere and he needed to find you. What if you were injured?

His eyes found you almost immediately and he rushed to your side as best he could with a sprained ankle and dislocated knee. Your eyes looked him over for any other major injuries that you'll heal, and his eyes did the same to you.

He gave you a relieved smile but immediately hissed in pain when you popped his knee back into place. You were, obviously, uninjured and extremely annoyed about being called in as re-enforcement for quite literally no reason. Couldn't they have called Zantana? Why did they call you?

You had been far enough away from the battle to do something about it, just like Batman expected from you. Dick looked at you with concern nonetheless. You were always cranky when you get called in to clean up the mess that the League causes, so he didn't flinch under your angry gaze.

"I never should have given you my number, you wanker."

You said immediately. Dick laughed until your magic snapped his broken ribs back into place. He hissed in pain and grabbed the area like that would help. He knew that's how your magic worked and you weren't going to numb his entire body because he's being "a little baby bitch" as you lovingly call him whenever he flinches in pain. You spend too much time with John Constantine.

"A little warning next time!"

He managed to say before his ankle healed and he was immediately in pain again. You were doing this on purpose now. You were royally pissed that he gave out your number to the League. He understood. He did kind of doxx you.

Your eyes illuminated slightly as they x-ray scanned him and the frown he recieved in response wasn't a good one. He wisely chose to sit down while you healed him. He definitely tore a muscle or five.

"I'm sorry, okay? Have mercy, hon— OW!"

You did decide to have mercy: by healing all his injuries at the same time. There were too many and you didn't have the time to torture him nor the patience. You squatted down to be on his level again. You said,

"I should have left you to deal with the injuries the normal way. You're welcome, by the way."

Right. Of course. Whenever you guys find the time, your personality bites him like a dog. You really are a mini-Constantine when you are inconvenienced, and he really should have expected this outcome. You rolled your eyes and rather aggressively dragged him into a kiss when it became clear he wanted a kiss but was in too much pain to do so.

Your kisses were never nice either. They were aggressive, brutal, and addictive. The type of kiss that unravels and demolishes. They were all-consuming and commanded his complete and total attention.

You pulled away first. He tried to chase your lips, but you placed a hand firmly on his chest to hold him in place. You sat in front of him and grumbled,

"You better not start a war the second I leave because I'm not coming back."

You used a firm tone but your eyes held humour. You both knew you would come back if he was in any real danger; it merely fit your demeanour to say you wouldn't. Dick nodded like he believed you, but you both also knew he'd be calling you later and he likely knew that you placed protective spells over him. You care in your own way.

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Batman appearing beside him like the phantom he is often rumoured to be. You let go of his son with an eye roll. Right. "No funny business" or whatever.

"Never call me on my night off again or I'll castrate you myself."

You told Batman. Batman gave you an exhausted dad expression. He thought you were a ticking timebomb like your mentor. It was a gamble every time he calls you whether or not you'd bother to show up for them and he has to weaponise Dick far too often for his liking. Dick was like catnip to you.

You stood up again and helped Dick up as well. Dick decided he didn't care that his dad was right there and dragged you back into a kiss. He was equally addicted to you and absolutely would come to your aid if you ever felt the need to call him. John is always your backup when the world is on the brink of extinction instead of the Titans, but he wouldn't even hesitate for a second if you called.

"See you later then?"

Dick asked. He wanted to take that step with you after tonight's chaos and planned a whole speech for whenever he can get you alone again. He could have died quite easily and so could have you. He looked so hopeful that you had a hard time saying no. That didn't mean you had to say yes nicely, though. You said with a shrug,

"Fuck it. I'm borrowing your son, Bats."

Dick didn't even have time to say goodbye as you already dragged him through a portal to your flat. Way to put him on the spot.