Yoo Skull How Are Ya? Also Love This Whole Thing You Got Going! Also Question Do You Write Duke Thomas?

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.

Cabin Quiet, Cabin Warm

Logan Howlett X GN!Reaer (same concept as the first one, different setting. couldn't decide between the two and wrote both)

Your birthday started with silence.

Not the uncomfortable kind—but the warm, heavy quiet that only exists deep in the woods, tucked inside a log cabin miles away from civilization.

You blinked awake to the scent of pine and coffee. The old wool blanket draped over you smelled faintly of cedar, and morning light slanted through the frosted windows, casting soft gold across the room.

It took a moment to remember where you were.

Logan’s cabin.

He’d invited you a week ago, grumbling something vague about “needing space” and “you could tag along if you wanted.” You weren’t sure if it was a real invitation or just his way of being polite—but you said yes anyway.

Now, sitting up slowly on the worn leather couch, you saw a folded piece of paper waiting to be opened on the side table. On the front of the folded paper is your name and writtin inside it in Logan’s handwriting, scrawled and slightly messy:

Mornin'. Firewood’s stacked. Coffee’s hot. Go outside. Wear boots.

You stared at it, then glanced toward the door. Snow had dusted the world white overnight, but you could see faint footprints in the fresh powder.

With a curious tug of your jacket and some thick socks stuffed into boots, you followed the tracks out behind the cabin.

There, near the tree line, Logan stood beside a hand-built picnic table. On it was a rough wooden box with a red ribbon—slightly wrinkled, like he didn’t know how to tie it properly. Two mismatched mugs sat on either side of a tin plate stacked with pancakes.

You stared.

He didn’t look at you at first. Just took a slow sip from his mug, eyes on the trees.

“…Ain’t much,” he muttered. “But I figured you deserved a quiet birthday.”

Your chest tightened.

“This is…” You stepped closer, voice soft, “...more than enough.”

He finally glanced at you, his usual gruff expression softened just a touch. “I don’t do parties. Figured you might not like ‘em either.”

You shook your head. “No. This? This is perfect.”

You sat beside him, and he slid the box toward you. “Made that. Don’t laugh.”

You opened it carefully—and inside was a hand-carved wooden pendant shaped like a pinecone. Simple, smooth, and surprisingly detailed.

“I didn’t know you could carve.”

“I didn’t,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Learned for this.”

The air between you went still. But it wasn’t awkward.

It was full.

You reached across the table, covering his hand with yours. “Thank you, Logan.”

He looked at you like he didn’t quite know what to say. So instead, he just nodded and murmured, “Happy birthday, kid.”

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.

Cherry-On-Top Cheesecake pretty please and I’m going to steal a cookie too :) *Shoves a cookie in my mouth and runs*

"Golden Hour"

Pairing: Duke Thomas x GN!Reader Setting: Gotham, early evening in spring

Duke wasn’t sure what surprised him more — that he had a free evening, or that you actually said yes.

Now you were both walking side by side under the gold-streaked sky of early evening, the sun dipping behind Gotham’s skyline like it was shy. The two of you were sharing a drink from a café neither of you had ever tried, just because it was there and open and the patio had twinkly lights strung overhead.

Duke caught himself glancing at you again — quick, subtle. You looked... happy. At ease. Maybe a little nervous, but not in a bad way. More like is this a date? I kind of hope it is nervous.

“I’m glad we did this,” you said softly, nudging his arm with yours. “You don’t get many chances to actually chill, do you?”

Duke chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, not unless you count rooftop stakeouts and dodging knives ‘chill.’”

You grinned. “Gotham romance at its finest.”

“Exactly,” he said, returning the smile, then hesitated. “But... I wanted this to be different. With you.”

Your steps slowed. His voice had changed — quieter, more thoughtful. You looked up at him, heart skipping once.

“I mean,” he went on, fumbling just a little, “I spend so much time trying to protect this city, or being around people who only see me as a vigilante, or... whatever. But with you, I get to just be Duke.”

You blinked at him — not because you were confused, but because no one had ever said something so honest to you before. And you could tell by the way he was looking anywhere but at you that it cost him something to say it.

“I like Duke,” you said, stopping on the path.

He stopped too, finally meeting your gaze. “Yeah?”

You stepped closer, bumping your shoulder into his gently. “Yeah. And I’m really glad you asked me out. Even if we’re still pretending it’s ‘just hanging out.’”

Duke laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Okay. Fine. It’s definitely a date. Can’t take it back now.”

You smiled and held out your pinky. “Deal.”

Duke linked his hand with yours — warm, steady — and for a second neither of you let go.

Golden light flickered through the trees, catching in his curls and warming the soft smile tugging at his lips.

And just like that, the night didn’t feel like Gotham. It felt like something softer. Something yours.

Burnt Bridges

(Dabi x Villain!Reader)

The first time Dabi left, it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic. There were no explosive confrontations or sudden betrayals. It was just an absence that spread like a poison, slowly creeping through the air. You should have seen it coming, really. The signs were there, even if you didn’t want to acknowledge them. But you didn’t expect him to just leave.

He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t give you any warning. He just... vanished.

You had been partners in crime, partners in everything. Destruction. Chaos. He was fire, and you were the wind that fueled it. But now, in the wake of his absence, you felt like an ember, flickering in the cold.

You’d come back from a mission, bruised and bloodied as usual, but the familiar warmth of his presence wasn’t there to greet you. His side of the room was empty, the bed unmade. No smirk, no flame, no Dabi.

You should have been used to it, but you weren’t. The hole he left was jagged, painful, and the silence rang louder than any explosion you had ever caused. The night he left, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t need him. You had always been able to go it alone before.

But this wasn’t the same.

You spent days — no, weeks — trying to drown out the void he’d left. You threw yourself into missions, into villain work, into destruction. But each kill, each robbery, each confrontation felt hollow. Something was missing. Someone was missing.

And it wasn’t just anyone. It was him.

You hated the way you couldn’t get him out of your mind, the way you felt like a part of you had been ripped away. And the anger? It burned inside you like an open wound. He had left you without so much as a word. No explanation, no apology. He just left. It wasn’t like Dabi to be this cold, this distant. But maybe he’d always been that way, and you’d just never realized it.

-------------------------------Time Skip------------------------------------

You didn’t expect to see him again. Not after everything. Not after he left without a trace, without a single word.

But there he was, standing at the center of the chaos, his flames dancing like an inferno, scorching everything in his path. He didn’t even look at you at first. Not until the smoke cleared, and you saw him standing there — taller, colder, more controlled than you remembered.

He was a walking blaze, but the heat was different now. It wasn’t the wild, unpredictable fire that used to send shivers of excitement down your spine. It was something calculated. Detached.

And that’s when it hit you. He hadn’t just left. He had changed. His flames weren’t the same, but neither were you.

The battle raged on, but you didn’t care about the heroes. You didn’t care about the villains. Your eyes were fixed on him, and the anger inside you bubbled over.

“You just left,” you spat as you approached him, the words sharp and filled with venom. “Without a word, without a fucking reason. You just left.”

Dabi’s expression was unreadable. His eyes, once filled with fire and intensity, were now cold, like nothing could touch him. It was like he was a different person altogether.

“I don’t owe you anything,” he muttered, his voice like gravel.

“No,” you shot back, your fists clenching. “You don’t owe me anything, but that doesn’t mean I won’t make you owe me an explanation.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond, didn’t care if he wanted to fight or talk. You were done holding back. You were done pretending. His absence had carved deep scars inside you, and now you were going to burn everything down until he understood the weight of his silence.

-------------------------------Time Skip------------------------------------

The city was ablaze, but nothing compared to the fire inside you. You fought like an animal, driven by rage. Every punch you threw, every villain you took down, was a piece of the anger you couldn’t contain.

But the heat of the flames was different now. Even Dabi’s fiery presence was no longer enough to soothe the wound he’d left behind.

After the battle, you stood alone in the remnants of the wreckage. The sound of distant sirens was like a mocking reminder of everything you had lost. Everything he had taken. You didn’t know why you stayed here. Why you didn’t walk away.

Maybe it was the lingering hope that he’d finally talk to you. But after everything, you weren’t sure what you expected.

“Why the hell did you leave?” you demanded, your voice shaking with barely-contained fury.

Dabi didn’t respond right away. His eyes were cold, focused on the destruction around you. But then, finally, his gaze flicked to you. His lips curled into a thin, bitter smile.

“I didn’t think you’d care,” he said, his voice distant, almost disinterested.

The words hit you like a slap. You didn’t expect him to apologize. You didn’t expect him to beg for forgiveness. But this? This was worse. The indifference in his tone, the way he dismissed you as if you didn’t matter, as if you were just another part of his past he could burn away… It was more than you could handle.

“You think I didn’t care?” Your chest tightened, the anger threatening to swallow you whole. “You think I don’t care that you left me without even telling me? Without any warning, without any explanation?” Your voice rose, the fury in your words making the air around you crackle. “You’re a fucking coward, Dabi. A coward who ran when things got hard. You always leave when it gets too real. And I’m sick of it.”

He stepped forward, his gaze unwavering, the flames flickering at his side, but there was no emotion behind them. “I didn’t ask you to stay. You’re here because you chose to be.”

“And now I regret it,” you hissed, taking a step back, the fire in your eyes not matching the coldness in his. “You’re not the same, Dabi. You’re just a ghost. And I’m done chasing after you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. There was no sound, no movement, just the two of you — separated by everything that had come between you.

Then, without another word, you turned away, leaving him standing in the flames.

Well in that case, I'm gonna pick 🐇 :3 And just call me bunny or rabbit if you don't wanna use the emoji all the time <3

And I do actually have something in mind. Though it's not really a scenario, more just a question.

What is the relationship reader's going to have with the individual bats? Like, is it going to be indifference (is that the right word?) with all of them?

It makes sense if it will be, I'm just curious of what you might have in mind! :D

Remember to stay hydrated!!

- 🐇

I'm gonna call you Bunny cause it's adorable!!!

Welcome to the team, Bunny!

This had to make me think for a bit but then I realized, it would be better to give you the before and after relationships between our lovly Duck (the nickname is growing on me ngl) and the batfam.

Before (while still living with them):

Bruce: Dismissive. Barely acknowledged your presence unless something went wrong. Cold authority figure.

Dick: Polite but shallow. Smiled at you, but never took you seriously.

Jason: Indifferent. Didn’t go out of his way to mock you, but never defended you either.

Tim: Competitive and undermining. Frequently took credit for your ideas.

Damian: Openly critical. Saw you as weak and unworthy from day one.

Barbara: Apathetic. Rarely engaged with you or acknowledged your input.

Alfred: Neutral but quietly regretful. Treated you with basic civility, but never intervened.

After (when reader had enough of them and left):

Bruce: Treats you as a dangerous unknown. Frustrated that this new villain is always one step ahead. Doesn’t realize he created you.

Dick: Tries to find a pattern in your moves. Thinks you’re clever, maybe even admirable—still has no idea it's you.

Jason: Thinks you’re hilarious. Doesn’t see you as a threat yet, just someone giving Bruce a hard time.

Tim: Spiraling. This unknown player is disrupting everything. Feels like he's missing something obvious.

Damian: Sees you as a pest with no honor. Thinks you’re trying too hard to impress.

Barbara: Suspicious. The way you move reminds her of someone, but she hasn’t figured it out yet.

Alfred: Observing. Quietly noticing similarities between your actions and the person the family ignored.

I have recently come to the realization that I am going to be known for writng Alpha!Jason x Reader fanfics and I do not know how to feel about that lmao

(I don't even read omegaverse fanfics, HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?)

A Birthday Fit for a Thief

Pairing: Flynn Rider x Reader Genre: Fluff, Romance Summary: Flynn surprises you with an unexpected birthday adventure—though things don’t go exactly as planned.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You weren’t expecting much for your birthday. Living in Corona had its perks—stunning views, lively markets, and, of course, the occasional festival—but you never made a big deal about your own special day. That was, until Flynn Rider got involved.

"You didn’t think I'd let your birthday pass without a little excitement, did you?" Flynn grinned, leaning casually against your doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His signature smirk was firmly in place, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that immediately put you on high alert.

"Flynn," you sighed, raising a suspicious brow. "What did you do?"

"Do? Me?" He feigned offense, pressing a hand dramatically to his chest. "I am a completely innocent, upstanding citizen now, remember?"

You gave him a look.

"Okay, okay," he laughed, pushing off the doorway and taking your hand. "Just trust me. I’ve got something amazing planned."

You let him lead you through the winding streets of Corona, dodging bustling merchants and cheerful townsfolk. Eventually, you reached the docks, where a small boat was tied up, a picnic basket sitting neatly inside.

"A boat ride?" You tilted your head, pleasantly surprised.

"Not just any boat ride," Flynn said, helping you in with a dramatic bow. "A birthday adventure."

With a few skilled movements, he pushed the boat off from the dock and guided it down the river. The sun was beginning to set, casting golden hues across the water. The moment felt peaceful, almost dreamlike.

"You really didn’t have to do all this," you murmured, watching as he pulled out a bottle of sparkling cider and two glasses.

Flynn shrugged. "I wanted to. You deserve something special."

Your heart warmed at his words, but before you could respond, the boat jolted—suddenly and violently. Flynn nearly dropped the glasses as water splashed over the side.

"Uh-oh." His eyes widened as he looked over the edge.

"Flynn, what was that?" you asked, gripping the sides of the boat.

"Funny story," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "I may or may not have borrowed—fine, fine, stolen—this boat from some less-than-friendly traders, and they may or may not have caught on."

"Flynn!" you groaned.

"Okay, but in my defense, it was just sitting there!"

Before you could argue further, voices shouted from the riverbank. A group of burly men stood there, shaking their fists.

"There he is! Get 'im!"

Flynn flashed you a sheepish grin. "So, how do you feel about swimming on your birthday?"

With a resigned sigh, you kicked off your shoes. "I knew I should’ve stayed in bed."

Hand in hand, you and Flynn leapt overboard, laughing as the cool water enveloped you. The traders' shouts faded as you swam toward the opposite shore, drenched but exhilarated.

When you finally made it to land, Flynn collapsed onto the grass, grinning up at the sky. "Well, that was fun."

"You are the worst birthday planner," you huffed, wringing water from your clothes.

"Maybe," he admitted, rolling onto his side to face you. "But, hey, you have to admit—it was memorable."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, yeah. I guess it was."

Flynn reached into his soaked vest and, to your surprise, pulled out a small but soaked, velvet-wrapped bundle. "Still managed to save this, though."

Curious, you took it from him, unwrapping the fabric to reveal a delicate, golden charm bracelet. Tiny engravings of lanterns, suns, and stars dangled from it, glimmering in the dimming light.

Your breath caught. "Flynn…"

"Happy birthday, (Y/N)," he said softly, brushing a wet strand of hair from your face. "Even if it wasn’t perfect, I hope it was at least… special."

You smiled, slipping the bracelet onto your wrist before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "It was perfect. You’re perfect."

Flynn smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "I do try."

With an exasperated laugh, you flopped back onto the grass beside him, staring up at the night sky. Maybe it hadn’t been the peaceful birthday you imagined, but with Flynn by your side, it was definitely one you’d never forget.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Author's note: So, plot twist, this is a gift for my friend. you know who you are. Did I tell her I was doing this? Nope. Happy Birthday to her.

The Making of a Villain - Chapter 0

You were villainized long before the thought of becoming one ever crossed your mind. 

They called you reckless when you were daring. Careless when you were creative. Every idea you offered was met with polite silence—or worse, a nod followed by someone else taking credit minutes later. And when things went wrong, even disasters you weren’t near, the blame found you like clockwork. A raised brow. A disappointed look. A quiet, “We’ll talk later.” Somehow, it was always you. 

It wasn’t hate. That would’ve been easier. Hate is loud, messy, obvious. What they gave you was neglect. Quiet dismissal. The kind that sinks into your skin and makes you question if you ever mattered at all. 

So, you stopped trying. 

Stopped talking. Stopped offering. Stopped hoping. 

And in the silence they left you in, something new began to grow. 

A different kind of brilliance. One that didn’t need their approval, their guidance, or their rules. Something sharp. Strategic. Patient. 

If they wanted you to be the big bad villain so badly, you'd make sure to exceed their wildest expectations. 

And oh, how they’ll wish they had seen you sooner. 

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.