Insomniac's Masterlist

can u do more alpha jason stuff pls? maybe he nests fem!omega reader? pls n thank u

The fact I'm about to write another fic on a subject I know very little about. My search history is going to be concerning.

Love the idea, it'll probably be posted later tonight since I have nothing else going on.

Operation: Sweet Tooth

It had been a rough night for the Batfamily. Patrol was exhausting, and everyone was in a foul mood. Bruises, exhaustion, and frustration lingered as they entered the manor, ready to crash—until something unexpected caught their attention.

On the kitchen counter sat an assortment of fresh pastries, neatly arranged with a small note beside them:

"Help yourselves. You could all use something sweet after tonight."

Curious (and hungry), they hesitated only a moment before grabbing a bite. Damian took a cookie, Jason opted for a scone, Tim picked up a muffin, and Dick grabbed whatever looked the softest. Bruce, though reluctant at first, eventually took one as well.

Silence fell as they chewed. Then—

“Damn,” Jason muttered, already reaching for another. “This is actually good.”

“‘Actually’?” Tim scoffed, taking another bite of his muffin. “This is amazing.”

“Alfred outdid himself,” Dick added, grinning.

Hearing his name, Alfred entered the kitchen just in time. “I’m pleased you enjoyed them, Master Richard, though I’m afraid I cannot take credit.”

The family blinked.

“…Then who did?” Bruce asked.

Alfred gave a knowing smile. “That would be Miss (Y/N). I’ve been giving her lessons while you lot are out on patrol.”

A beat of silence.

“You mean our (Y/N)?” Damian asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“The one who can barely make toast without setting off the fire alarm?” Tim added in disbelief.

Alfred merely nodded, and the brothers exchanged glances before looking at the pastries with renewed appreciation.

Jason smirked. “So what you’re saying is, if we ask nicely, she might make more?”

And that was how you found yourself suddenly bombarded with requests for sweets—Jason asking for scones, Tim dropping hints about coffee cake, Dick attempting the puppy-dog eyes for more cookies, and even Damian begrudgingly requesting a specific type of tart.

Bruce didn’t say anything, but the way he took an extra muffin the next morning spoke volumes.

Alfred, of course, just sipped his tea with a knowing smile.

John Constantine x Witch!Reader

Endless Banter & Snark – Constantine would never admit it outright, but the fact that you're slightly better at magic drives him insane. He hides it behind constant sarcasm, throwing comments like, “Yeah, yeah, show-off, let’s see if you can also make a pint appear in my hand.” (You do. Just to shut him up.)

Reluctantly Impressed – He watches you cast a spell he’d struggle with and just lights a cigarette, muttering, “Bloody hell...” before pretending he knew how to do that all along.

Competitive as Hell – He keeps trying to outdo you, even in the most ridiculous ways. If you exorcise a demon in five minutes, he tries to do it in four. If you fix a broken ward, he’s suddenly acting like it was faulty in the first place just so he can redo it.

Protective in His Own Way – He won’t admit it, but he worries about you getting tangled in the same kind of magical disasters he does. He warns you about messing with certain forces, even though you’re arguably more capable than him. If something actually does hurt you? Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off Constantine.

Drunken Magic Debates – After a few drinks, you two get into long-winded arguments about magic theory. “That’s not how that bloody rune works—” “Oh? Then why did it just work when I used it?” He groans and orders another drink.

Demon Magnet Duo – Demons and other supernatural beings hate you both but also find you very interesting. Sometimes they even try to pit you against each other, which is hilarious because you just team up and make their existence miserable.

The One Who Fixes His Screw-Ups – He won’t say it, but having you around is incredibly useful because, occasionally, even he digs himself into magical trouble he can’t get out of. You casually fix things, pat him on the shoulder, and say, “You’re lucky I like you.”

Constantine Being a Mess, You Being Over It – He shows up at your door, bloody and half-cursed, expecting a place to crash. You sigh, let him in, and then spend the next hour undoing whatever hex he pissed off this time.

The One Who Can Actually Call Him Out – Constantine gets away with a lot of things because he’s so good at talking his way out. But not with you. You see right through his crap, and the first time you call him out, he just stands there blinking like, “…Shit.”

Unspoken Mutual Trust – He never really trusts people, but you? You’re different. He won’t say it, but he knows if things go really bad, you’ll be the one standing by him, fixing things together—even if it means pulling his reckless ass out of the fire again.

Also skull what readers do you write for?

hmm, currently I write Gender Neutral, Female, and Male.

When I have more confidence in my skills, I'll venture out but that it's for now.

Thanks for asking, Hermes!

Hi. Could you please write an Alpha Jason Todd x Beta Reader? You don't have to but it would be a good story. 👍

More Than Enough

Alpha!Jason x Beta!Reader

The apartment was cold. Too quiet. Too empty.

Jason hated it.

He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, breaths coming too sharp, too ragged. His rut had passed days ago, but the aftermath still clung to him like a ghost—exhaustion, frustration, the bitter taste of loneliness.

He wasn’t supposed to be alone.

But you were gone.

Not because you wanted to be, not really. Jason had made sure of that. Had pushed you away with sharp words and colder actions, because what was a Beta supposed to do with an Alpha during rut? What could you do?

Nothing.

That’s what he told himself every damn time he forced himself to keep his distance.

And now?

Now, the sheets didn’t smell like you anymore. Now, the only heartbeat in the apartment was his own, and it sounded all wrong. Now, he was left with nothing but the echo of his own damn mistakes.

The door unlocked.

Jason’s head snapped up, breath catching. He swore he was imagining things until he saw you step inside, arms full of takeout bags, looking at him like you hadn’t spent the last few days giving him space he never really wanted.

“…You look like shit,” you said, shutting the door behind you.

Jason exhaled, a shaky, uneven thing that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Feel like it, too.”

You crossed the room, setting the food down before sitting next to him, close but not touching. “Didn’t think you’d actually eat if I didn’t come back.”

He didn’t deny it. Couldn’t.

The silence stretched, and for a moment, Jason braced himself for you to leave again. For you to say something final. Instead, you sighed, leaning against him, letting your warmth seep into the cracks he’d been too stubborn to acknowledge.

“You don’t get to do that again,” you murmured, voice soft but firm.

Jason swallowed. “I—”

“You don’t get to decide what I can handle, Jason.” You tilted your head, looking up at him with something unreadable in your eyes. “You’re my person, rut or not. Got it?”

Jason inhaled sharply. The knot in his chest loosened, just a little. He nodded.

“…Yeah. Got it.”

You huffed, satisfied, then nudged a takeout bag toward him. “Good. Now eat before I force-feed you.”

Jason cracked a real smile, small but there. And as he picked up the food, he finally let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

Sinc so many people seem to like my ABO Jason Todd fic and Batfam fic, should I make more of them?

the Logan x reader was very nice! can u do one where they kiss?

Just This Once

Logan Howlett X GN!Reader

(warning, because it wasn't stated, I did make this angst, so be prepared for that)

You were packing when he found you.

Your bag was half-zipped, clothes shoved inside without care. The mission was over. The damage was done. You weren’t staying at the mansion—not after what happened. Not after what they lost.

Not after what you lost.

Logan stood in the doorway, silent for a long time.

“You don’t have to run,” he finally said.

You didn’t look at him. “I’m not running. I’m leaving.”

“That’s what running is.”

You zipped the bag all the way and threw your jacket over your shoulder. “Not everyone can heal from everything, Logan.”

That made him flinch, just barely. But you saw it.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know you’re hurt.”

You turned, finally facing him, and god—you hated how tired he looked. Like he hadn’t slept since the explosion. Like he hadn’t stopped blaming himself since the moment you pulled yourself out of the rubble with blood on your hands and someone else’s name on your lips.

“You weren’t the one who died,” you whispered. “But you act like you were.”

“Because it should’ve been me.”

That stopped you cold.

His eyes locked with yours—haunted, full of all the things he never said.

“I’ve lost people,” he rasped, voice breaking. “More than I can count. But watching you walk out that door? That’s a different kind of hell.”

Your fingers clenched around your jacket.

“Don’t do this now,” you said. “Not when I’m finally strong enough to leave.”

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, stepping forward. “I should’ve told you when we had time.”

Your throat tightened. “But you didn’t.”

Silence.

Then, like it was the only thing that made sense, he reached for you—slow, gentle. His hand cradled your face, calloused thumb brushing your cheek. And you didn’t stop him.

You couldn’t stop him.

The kiss was desperate. Not soft. Not romantic. It was years of grief, guilt, longing, and what-ifs poured into one stolen moment neither of you had the right to ask for.

When it broke, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing like you were drowning.

“I loved you,” you whispered.

“I still do,” he said.

And then you stepped back, picked up your bag, and walked out—because love wasn’t always enough, and this time?

It was too late.

You walked out.

You had to.

But the moment the mansion's front doors shut behind you, the cold hit harder than it should’ve. Not just the weather—Logan’s absence clung to you like fog, sinking deep into your lungs.

The kiss still burned on your lips. Not gentle, not sweet—but real. And it lingered.

You didn’t look back. Not when you stepped into the snow. Not when the trees swallowed you whole.

But Logan did.

He stood at the window long after your silhouette vanished behind the white, jaw clenched like he could hold the pain in his teeth.

“I’m not gonna chase you,” he muttered to himself. “You said you needed space. You’ll get it.”

His hands curled into fists.

“But I’m not done.”

He turned away from the window, jaw set.

He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know when, but he would see you again.

Because some people you fight for—quietly, steadily, without a deadline.

And some loves don’t end at goodbye.

They wait.

I-

I was not expecting my Batfam one-shot fic to gain the likes it currently has, and still getting

Thank you???

abo au with alpha Jason as our mate?

Safe in His Scent

Alpha Jason Todd x Reader

The scent of gunpowder and leather wrapped around you before you even saw him. Jason was near—closer than usual. Your instincts prickled at the awareness of your mate’s presence, your Omega side naturally attuned to him even when he wasn’t trying to be noticeable.

You didn’t turn immediately. You kept your hands busy, finishing up in the small kitchen of your apartment. Jason always had a habit of watching you before announcing himself, his predatory instincts at odds with his soft spot for you.

“I know you’re there,” you finally said, glancing over your shoulder.

Jason leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual scowl softened just enough to be noticeable. “Didn’t want to startle you.”

You rolled your eyes, setting down a plate. “Like I wouldn’t know when you’re around.”

His lips quirked up, the ghost of a smile. “Fair point.”

He took a few slow steps inside, his presence commanding, the heat of his body warming the room without him even touching you. Your Omega instincts wanted to lean into it, to let him close that distance, but you held your ground. You and Jason… things were complicated.

He wasn’t like other Alphas—possessive, territorial, demanding. He was protective, sure, but he gave you space. Too much space, sometimes.

“Rough night?” you asked, noting the slight tension in his shoulders.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Yeah. Got into it with some assholes in Crime Alley.”

Your heart clenched. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

He smirked, stepping closer, finally within reach. “Worried about me, Omega?”

You huffed, smacking his arm lightly. “Of course I am, dumbass.”

Jason’s amusement faded slightly, something more serious settling in his expression. His hand lifted, fingers brushing your wrist—gentle, careful. Your pulse jumped at the small touch, your scent sweetening in response. He noticed, of course he did, and his pupils darkened slightly.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he murmured. “I can handle myself.”

“I know that,” you said softly, fingers curling slightly as if to hold onto that touch. “Doesn’t mean I stop caring.”

Jason’s jaw tightened, his grip on your wrist shifting, thumb brushing slow, soothing circles against your skin. “You’re too good for this city,” he muttered. “Too good for me.”

You frowned. “That’s not for you to decide.”

A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he didn’t argue. He never did when it came to you. Instead, he sighed and let his forehead rest lightly against yours, the warmth of him seeping into your skin. Your scent mingled, familiar and right, and for the first time that night, Jason seemed to relax.

“You smell good,” he admitted, voice lower, rougher. “Like home.”

Your heart thudded, warmth blooming in your chest. “So do you.”

He chuckled, the sound vibrating against you. “Yeah?”

You nodded, pressing your nose lightly against his collar. “Yeah.”

For now, that was enough.

Caffine and Capes

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Hal Jordan (Batlantern) Setting: Cozy café, followed by a walk in the park Tone: Soft Fluff

The café was small and cozy, tucked away on a quiet street in Gotham. The air smelled like freshly ground coffee and something faintly sweet, like cinnamon. A soft jazz tune played in the background, mixing with the chatter of the few patrons.

Bruce sat at a corner table, his usual sharpness dulled by the warm lighting and comforting atmosphere. His coffee sat in front of him, but he wasn’t drinking it. Instead, he was watching Hal, who seemed entirely too excited for a simple trip to a café.

“This place smells like... joy,” Hal said, eyes wide as he looked around. “I’m convinced coffee beans are secretly happiness in disguise.”

Bruce didn’t smile, but there was the tiniest flicker of amusement in his eyes. “You sure it’s not the sugar?”

Hal leaned forward with a smirk. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

Bruce reached for his cup, taking a sip, and Hal watched him, eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re really quiet today.”

Bruce sighed. “I’m not quiet. I’m... contemplative.”

Hal snorted, causing Bruce to give him an unamused look. “I’ll take that as ‘yes, you’re quiet.’”

“Well,” Bruce said, glancing out the window at the soft drizzle of rain that had started outside, “I didn’t think you’d be so... enthusiastic about coffee. You’re usually more into explosions and flashy things.”

“Coffee’s a simple pleasure,” Hal replied, leaning back in his chair. “Besides, it’s a good break from all the chaos. I don’t need fireworks to enjoy something.”

Bruce’s gaze softened slightly. He hadn’t expected Hal to be so... well, normal. In the middle of Gotham, in a café with soft lighting and jazz, Bruce felt a kind of peace that didn’t come often.

After a few moments, Hal was up and pulling his jacket on. “So, I know you’re Mr. Nighttime—“

“Don’t.”

“—But how about we take a walk through the park?” Hal finished, ignoring the glare. “There’s a park not far from here. I promise, no giant green robots or alien invasions.”

Bruce gave him a flat look. “You really think that’s going to convince me?”

Hal just smiled, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “I’m betting on the fact that you’re curious enough to see what a normal date looks like.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching toward a smirk. “Alright. Lead the way.”

The park was quiet, the path lit by soft streetlamps that shimmered in the rain. They walked side by side, the occasional raindrop catching in the dark strands of Hal’s hair. There was a certain ease in the air, despite the world’s usual chaos swirling around them.

Hal kicked a few leaves up, glancing at Bruce. “You know, I’ve always imagined Gotham as... darker. More gloomy. But this place... it’s peaceful.”

Bruce nodded, his gaze on the path ahead. “Sometimes you need a reminder that there’s more to a city than crime.”

Hal glanced at him, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Bruce let his guard slip just a little. He didn’t have to be Batman right now. He could just be... Bruce.

“You know,” Hal began, looking up at the rain-soaked trees, “this is nice. Just... us. No Green Lanterns or Bat-families. No big city problems.”

Bruce turned his head, watching Hal with a rare, genuine smile that seemed to soften the edges of his face.

“I’m glad you think so,” Bruce said quietly. “It’s been a while since I’ve just... walked.”

They continued on in silence for a while, the sound of footsteps mixing with the gentle rustle of leaves in the rain. When they reached a bench near the center of the park, Hal gestured for Bruce to sit.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be so...” Hal trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

“Normal?” Bruce suggested, taking a seat. “Yeah. I’m good at hiding it.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to see past the cape and cowl,” Hal said softly. “But I think I like this version of you.”

Bruce met his gaze, his voice a little quieter than usual. “I think I do too.”

Hal’s hand rested on the bench beside Bruce’s, fingers almost brushing. Bruce looked down for a moment, then subtly shifted his hand so it was resting just an inch from Hal’s.

“I guess we’re both full of surprises,” Bruce said, his lips quirking in the slightest smile.

Hal chuckled, looking down at their hands. “You have no idea.”

The rain fell a little harder now, but neither of them moved to leave. Instead, they sat there, quietly sharing a moment that was simple — but in its own way, exactly what they needed.

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This is for @witherby I'M RATTING YOU OUT. You guys should definitely check out their writing, it's awesome!!