TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE
Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader.
Summary: So, he might be going against "bro code". He can't help it, though; his best friend's sibling is just too cute.
A/N: Reader can be imagined as biological/adopted/found family.
DICK GRAYSON & WALLY WEST
How Dick hadn't learnt to not leave his phone unattended was beyond Wally, especially when, for a vigilante, the man had such lax security for his personal phone. Nor should he have ever trusted Wally with the password.
Already drafting his absolute PR nightmare tweet on Dick's account, he's mentally rubbing his evil little hands together when his thumb hits the banner notification that pops up on the top of the screen.
My Heart: Thinking about you, come home soon xo
Alongside the text is a photo, a very suggestive photo of a woman dressed in nothing but one of Dick's hoodies. Wally knows because he bought Dick that hoodie, he's also very familiar with the woman in the photo on account of it being his baby sister.
He shrieks, the phone slipping from his slack with shock grip and landing on his big toe.
He doesn't hear the ringtone over his sudden stream of pained expletives, hopping on one foot, until he hears your voice from the speaker.
"Hey babe! You left your hoodie at - "
"YOU!" Wally screams, blubbering incoherently, pointing an accusing finger at the phone like you can see him.
"Jesus Christ," he can practically see you recoiling away from your phone, "Wally?" You've heard enough of your brother's meltdowns over the years that you can recognise him from just a single word.
"YOU, YOU - YOU HARLOT!" You snort at his words, staying silent until his stream of consciousness is finished.
"You done?" You hum, completely unphased at the tantrum Wally's just thrown for the past seven minutes.
"Am I, am I done? No, I'm not done." He squawks, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" There's a beat of incredulous silence on your end.
"Excuse me? What have I done to you?"
"DEFILED THE SACRED BOND OF BROTHERHOOD IS WHAT YOU'VE DONE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND"
"The sacred bond of brotherhood? I'm your fucking sibling, you're supposed to attack him, not me!" Wally can't help but notice how you don't deny his words.
"Oh, believe me, Dickhead is gonna get what's coming to him."
"Yeah, whatever, I'm hanging up now, tell Dick I'm getting pizza for dinner."
"Don't you dare - " He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before you've followed through.
"Hey Wally, have you seen my ... phone?" Dick trails off as he spots the item he's looking for in his agitated friend's hand.
"You don’t fuck your best friends younger sibling. That’s like the number one rule of bro code!” Wally shrieked, not greeting him like a normal person, and not giving Dick even a second to realise what was happening before he was being grabbed and shaken by his shoulders.
"I love her." No explanation, no apologies, just pure earnestness and the softest look Wally had ever seen on his friend's face.
The declaration takes all the wind out of his sails, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He drags a hand down his face slowly,
Finally, he groaned and dragged both hands down his face. "Ugh. I hate that you’re so genuine. It ruins my ability to stay mad. Barry's not going to be happy you kept this from him though."
The mental image of the Flash going protective uncle giving him the slightest bit of sick satisfaction, until Dick shatters his dreams by casually saying, "he already knows."
"He what?! Am I the last to know?" Dick makes a show of thinking about it before shrugging with an unapologetic grin.
"Kinda, yeah."
"I'M SURROUNDED BY TRAITORS!" Wally yells, sinking to his knees in defeat.
JASON TODD & ROY HARPER
Nobody had ever accused Roy of being a detective. He might not be as smart as the bats (an impossible hurdle in Roy's opinion), but he wasn't completely fucking stupid.
An unfortunate reality for his sister, who he'd caught sneaking into the Titans Tower at the ripe time of 4:47 am, wearing a familiar leather jacket with a bullet hole in the sleeve. A jacket that could only mean one of two things.
You had joined a biker gang.
You were dating Jason Todd, AKA, his best friend, AKA dead fucking meat.
Because while option one terrified him, he'd still prefer it to the option he had a sinking suspicion about was actually correct.
The next afternoon, he finds Jason working out in the Tower's gym, and he grins wickedly. Bastard didn't even have to make Roy track him down.
"Hey, Roy." Jason greets, never once faltering in his reps, entirely unbothered, like he hadn’t committed emotional treason.
Roy thinks he could be forgiven for his following action, he could have done a lot worse than picking up the nearest kettlebell and throwing it at his unsuspecting friend.
"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?" Jason screeched as he dove for cover.
"YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?!"
"Um, what?" He squeaks, before clearing his throat, "I mean... I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't try to gaslight me!" Roy jabbed a finger at him, seething. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you went and... and started... canoodling my sister."
Jason’s brows shot up in amusement despite himself. "Canoodling?"
"Don't try and deflect either." Roy flushed as red as his hair.
"I’m not—well. Okay. I am. But in my defense, it wasn’t like I planned to fall for your sister."
"Have you kissed?"
Jason contemplates lying but bites the bullet and nods.
Roy gasped like an old lady hearing someone say cunt. "ON PURPOSE?!"
Jason gave him a flat look. "No, Roy, I tripped and fell. Of course, it was on purpose. More than once, too." He smirks, unable to stop himself from prodding the bear.
Roy spasms.
"Ok, let's not make this weird." Jason huffs.
"Make this weird? It's already weird, we're neck deep in it, NAY!, We're drowning in it!"
"Oh dear god," Jason sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and speaking before he can think better of it, "I love her."
Roy chokes, Jason startles, clearly surprising, even himself, "Oh my god, I love her."
There's a heavy, pained silence before Roy croaks "... Bro"
"I know." Jason tugged at the roots of his hair.
"…BRO." Roy was trying to prevent a panic attack, his panic fuelling Jason's.
"I know."
"You love me?" A slightly giddy voice breathes from the doorway.
Both men groan for different reasons as they spot you bouncing toward them.
"Babe, I -"
"I love you too," you beam, throwing your arms around Jason's neck and kissing him like your life depends on it.
Roy gags, forcing you to pull away. "God, this is gonna ruin every group hang for the rest of my life." He whined.
"Nah. You’ll get used to me kissing your sister in front of you."
"I SWEAR TO GOD —"
TIM DRAKE & CONNER KENT
Conner's knee is jiggling furiously. From across the room, Cassie raises a questioning brow, but Conner makes no effort to stop as he checks the time for the fourth time in less than three minutes.
You're late. So is Tim, but it's not him Conner's worried about. You're never late; you've always been a perpetually early person, and you always get so anxious if you aren't. Conner knows, having been on the receiving end of your time-anxious meltdowns more than once.
"Dude, calm down, they're not even five minutes late yet," Bart says, looking at him as if he's the weird one here, when clearly, something terrible has happened to you.
You've been in a car accident (you don't drive), you've been shot, (you're bulletproof), you've been taken hostage by Lex Luthor (plausible), you've -
"Hi guys, sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm." You laugh bashfully, avoiding Conner's gaze, which narrows in suspicion.
"That never happens." He scowls, his enhanced hearing picking up the slight stutter in your heartbeat.
"Well, it did today." You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit next to Cassie.
Barely two minutes later, a harried-looking Tim scurries through the door, brushing his sweaty hair from his face, and in doing so, accidentally reveals a hickey just beneath the neckline of his shirt.
It's only for a second, but that one second is all he needs to connect the dots.
"No." He says, glaring at Tim as everyone else, including you, watches in confusion.
"No?" Tim repeats.
"NO!" Conner snarls, jumping up from his seat and pulling down the neckline of Tim's shirt to display not one, but three love bites.
"YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?!"
"Technically, there wasn't much sleeping involved - " Tim mutters, with absolutely zero regard for his well-being.
"I trusted you with my life, and you go behind my back to DEFLOWER MY INNOCENT BABY SISTER?!"
"You're the same age?" Tim mumbles at the same time you scoff.
"Deflower? Innocent? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Are you my owner?"
"Stay out of this!" Conner whirls on you, his gaze dangerously red.
"Stay out of my own sex life?" You guffaw, ignoring the way Conner puffs up like an angry cat. "Besides, Tim's hardly my first."
Your words are enough to shock your brother enough that he drops Tim, reeling back with a hand on his chest like he's suffering a heart attack.
You take the opportunity to scoop your partner into your arms, flying away before Kon can recover, until you reach the safety of the bed you've both only just left.
"I think he's actually going to kill me." Tim mumbles, burying his face in your chest.
"Hmm, guess you''ll just have to keep me around forever, for protection."
"Sounds perfect." Tim dreamily says, clutching you even tighter in contentment.
BRUCE WAYNE & CLARK KENT
Once, there would have been a time when interviewing Gotham’s Bruce Wayne would have left him an anxious wreck, but now, Clark relished in the opportunity. Giddy that his best friend, no matter how much the man denied it, would turn to him (him! A Metropolis interloper), instead of someone like that tart Vicki Vale.
(That thought has him mentally apologising to his ma for his crudeness, but what she wouldn't know, couldn't hurt her.)
Needless to say, Clark was excited to have been given the chance, and he refused to squander it.
They were in Bruce's "office," a room they both knew he hardly ever even stepped foot inside, but had occupied to keep up the facade.
A brilliant facade it was, Clark thought in amusement, as he watched Brucie Wayne ramble on earnestly. Nobody would ever suspect the man, reaching for his wallet to pull out a picture of his kids in an interview on Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures, to be the fearsome Batman.
Clark, ever affable, just smiles, nodding along until a second picture flutters onto the desk. Bruce freezes, his perfected mask slipping just a fraction, but enough for Clark to notice as the unshakeable man's eyes widen in sheer panic.
Bruce was composed. He was always in control, a master of self-control. Bruce was unflappable, he had a plan for everything.
Bruce, evidently, did not have a plan, beyond freezing in horror, for when an intimate Polaroid of his girlfriend, Clark's sister, landed face up on the table between them.
You're wearing one of his button-up shirts, seated sideways across Bruce's lap, the man's large hand clasped over your thigh, as you stare up at him like he's your whole world.
Clark paused, staring at the photo on the desk like it was a live grenade.
Bruce, very carefully, snuck a hand out to retrieve it. Only to be thwarted by Clark's superspeed. He holds it between his thumb and his index finger like it might bite him, the blinding grin never once fading from his face.
Bruce thinks it's the most terrifying Clark has ever looked.
There's a long pause, with Bruce mentally calculating how long it will take before he has some Kryptonite on his hands and whetehr or not Clark will flatten him before then.
"Oh my god," Clark said.
Bruce grimaced. "It's not what it looks like."
"It looks like you're dating my sister."
"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like, but—" He cuts off once more as Clark speaks with surprising giddiness.
"You carry her around in your wallet. Like a real boyfriend, it's sickeningly sweet."
Bruce opened his mouth, closing it and opening it again repeatedly like a stunned fish as he blushed a brilliant red.
Clark wasn’t finished; if anything, he looked like Christmas had come early.
"Is there more?" Bruce stiffens, "There is! Do you have a shrine? I bet you have a shrine!"
"Clark."
"Is it in the batcave?"
"Clark."
"What about a scrapbook? Is she on the manor walls yet?"
"Clark."
"Do your kids know? Wait, am I the last to know?!" He seemed genuinely hurt by that thought.
Bruce looked up at the ceiling like it could save him from the confrontation; he thinks he'd rather fight than... whatever the hell, it is Clark's doing.
MOON AND STARS
hal jordan x battinson | sfw
Cw! Older Hal, Younger Bruce Wayne, romantic leaning, DC Justice League War references, slight spoilers to The Batman (2022), headcannons, suggestive content
thank you to the person who requested this. the request got lost in the cosmos :( these two are hilarious to me (especially if it's battinson in particular)
It was simple. Catch the alien that was terrorizing Gotham. Capture him and things would be fine.
Of course things could never be simple for Hal Jordan, the Green Lantern.
He meets face-to-face with Batman. He expected some older man who was all dark and brooding, which he was, but this Batman was young.
He was anxious and honestly very emo.
The younger man was irritating and always telling Hal to get out of his city. Hal was appalled because how dare he.
Batman was inexperienced.
But this was the same Batman that restored faith in Hal's self. He and Batman, or rather Bruce Wayne said they were the most normal on this team of other gods.
Hal admired the young man's stance. Despite all his broody emo behavior the bat proved to be a symbol of hope and justice.
Hal continued his teasing and the name Spooky rang heavy on his tongue, and soon it felt much more adoring than demeaning. The Batman; Bruce Wayne was a shy man who kept to himself and was learning to accommodate Hal's eccentricity.
They didn't know when it happened.
Hal found himself enamored with the younger man who was a wet kitten. His hands were suddenly tracing every mortal scar on the young man's skin.
Batman suddenly felt a surge of love he never felt before. All there was was Alfred after the death of his parents, and that pain and need for vengeance.
Then the Riddler, and now this.
Opened to the city and hope, and now this man; Green Lantern, Hal Jordan proved to be someone who wanted him the most annoying person on earth. But even so, Bruce couldn't deny this feeling for the other.
The solemn darkness of Gotham haunted Bruce like a ghost. He was the darkness, for he was vengeance and Green Lantern was the light. He was the green light across the ocean and shined brightly for Bruce to see.
Rocky. It was was. Bruce and Hal proved to be people most unlikely to become an item and they argued. Silence from the bat and irritation on the guardian's end.
Still, they ended up in the bedroom where every scar was counted and every scar was kissed with such care and gentleness. After years of being touch-starved and used to the pain Bruce cried. The last night he did it was alone after Alfred got hurt due to his actions.
Every good thing wasn't desevering of him. He wasn't deserving of it.
The Green Lantern's guilt was astronomical. For he was chosen and that belief wavered. Did he even know what he was doing? Then Hal found himself being approached with comforting words. Hesitant kisses. A pale body of scars and fear against his.
Never again would neither of them feel inferior. They were normal in the most human way.
The Batman was costume, even if Brucie was mask just as Bruce Wayne was too.
Green Lantern was the ring. Without it; Hal Jordan was all that was left.
Darkness and light together. Warping beautifully the two joined in bed. Tanned body above another with the most humorous and comforting words ever. The caressing of skin and those damn butterfly kisses.
So sweet and intoxicatingly addictive. Bruce wouldn't stand it, and he let it happen. Hal wouldn't leave him alone, ever again.
Request!! Can you prettyy please do a Ranpo x masochist reader? It can be to whatever degree you interpret it as: romatic & sexual, or a platonic pass-time to cut up a monotonous day. Go crazy w it. Physical or emotional, I'll eat up anything you put out. Feel free to ignore my dumbass, luv you! 𓆟
Yandere!Ranpo x Masochist!Reader
Another day at the Armed Detective Agency, the sun filtering through the wide office windows, the sound of papers shuffling, the occasional clatter of Fukuzawa’s tea set. Everything was normal.
At least, on the surface.
You were a new recruit—diligent, polite, attentive—the kind of employee everyone liked. You followed orders without complaint, kept your workspace tidy, and never seemed to cause trouble. Nothing about you was particularly suspicious.
But Ranpo noticed things.
The first incident.
It was entirely his fault, of course. He’d been slacking off (as usual), leaning lazily in his chair while balancing a cup of hot tea on his knee. Someone called his name, he turned too fast—
Ah, shit.
The cup tipped, spilling a few hot drops over your fingers before you managed to pull away.
"Ah—!"
Ranpo blinked down at the mess, lazily dragging his gaze back to you. You didn’t flinch. You just… turned your head slightly to the side, as if inconvenienced, as if this wasn’t worth reacting to at all. You wiped your hand on a napkin, casual as ever.
"Ahh, sorry, sorry~! Guess I got too excited" Ranpo said, dragging out his words in a sing-song tone.
"It’s okay" you replied easily, already moving on.
Ranpo squinted at you.
"Huh. That didn’t hurt?"
"Not really." You smiled
Hmmm.
The next time, he did it on purpose.
It was lunch time, the office mostly empty as everyone scattered to grab food. You were focused on your work, fingers gliding over the keyboard, too absorbed to notice Ranpo creeping up behind you.
"Boo!"
You didn’t jump.
You barely reacted at all. Your shoulders stiffened for half a second before you forced yourself to relax. But Ranpo saw it—the tension in your fingers, the way your breath hitched before settling into something controlled.
Not fear. Not normal startlement.
No—you were suppressing something.
Ranpo leaned on your desk, grinning. "Wow, you’re no fun. Didn’t even scream."
You smiled, but your grip on your pen tightened.
"You startled me a little."
"Liar~," Ranpo hummed, tilting his head. "That wasn’t ‘a little startled,’ that was a ‘I’m used to sudden things happening but I have to act normal’ kind of reaction."
Your fingers twitched. He saw that too.
The crowded hallway.
Yosano brushed past you while walking by, nothing more than a casual nudge of shoulders. You jerked ever so slightly, fingers curling, tension visible for half a second before you forced it down again.
Ranpo, watching from across the room, narrowed his eyes.
It wasn’t normal. The way you reacted to sudden movement, casual touches, heat, pain—it wasn’t the reaction of someone simply uncomfortable.
It was someone who wasn’t used to things being this light.
Ranpo popped a candy into his mouth, still watching you closely.
"Ne, ne~" he called lazily, "You sure are sensitive, huh?"
You glanced at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Dunno," he hummed, tapping his chin. "People brush past you, and you act like you’re bracing for something. But it’s subtle. Most people wouldn’t notice."
Ranpo grinned. "You don’t like pain, do you? You like it a little too much."
Your breath caught. Gotcha.
And from that moment on, Ranpo was hooked.
This was going to be so much fun.
It was too easy to pretend.
You kept your head down, listened well, followed orders. Everything about you was perfectly normal—on the surface. No reason for anyone to look too closely. No reason for anyone to suspect that beneath all that obedience was something much, much uglier.
Unfortunately, Ranpo wasn’t just anyone.
He didn’t act right away.
So instead, he watched. Quietly.
Every time you flinched—he noticed. Every time you suppressed a reaction—he noticed. Every time you acted a little too unaffected by something painful—he noticed.
And most importantly? He noticed the way you always made sure other people were around.
Because when people were watching, nothing could happen to you.
It was instinctual, the way you hovered just close enough to the others, safety in numbers, an unspoken barrier. But Ranpo was smarter than you. He was smarter than everyone.
And the moment he realized you were avoiding being alone with him?
That’s when he decided it was time to change the rules.
"You should stay late today."
He said it so casually. A lazy request, stretched out in a bored drawl, as if it were nothing important.
"You don’t mind, right? Just a little longer~? I could use the extra help with this case."
It was nonsense. Ranpo never needed help. And everyone in the ADA knew it.
You hesitated. But what could you say? No? That would be suspicious.
So you smiled, pretended it was fine. "Sure."
And with that, the office emptied out.
One by one, the others left. Atsushi, Yosano, Kunikida—all of them disappearing through the doors, their voices fading into the night. The agency lights dimmed, the usual buzz of conversation died, and soon...
It was just you and him.
Ranpo didn’t immediately pounce on his curiosity.
At first, he actually pretended to work—lounging back in his chair, half-heartedly flipping through files, occasionally tossing you some meaningless task just to keep you still.
Then, when he was sure the moment was right, he spoke.
"So… you don’t feel pain, huh?"
You froze.
It was so, so small. A brief pause in your breathing, a millisecond of tension in your fingers—but Ranpo saw it.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ohhh, don’t play dumb~." He propped his chin on one hand, watching you squirm. "I noticed, you know. You’re real good at hiding it, but I’m better at noticing things."
"I really don’t know what you mean."
Ranpo sighed dramatically, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, if you won’t admit it… should I prove it?"
Before you could react, he suddenly reached forward—
And flicked you hard on the forehead.
It wasn’t much. A childish, meaningless flick—something Atsushi would have yelped at, something Kunikida would have scolded him for. But you?
You didn’t move. Didn’t swat his hand away. Didn’t blink. Didn’t react at all.
"See? That’s what I’m talking about."
He leaned forward, too close now, too knowing. His elbows rested on his knees, posture casual, but his eyes—those sharp, all-seeing eyes—were locked entirely on you.
"That didn’t hurt, did it?"
"Don’t even try to deny~."
The office felt smaller than before. The empty desks, the dim lighting, the utter silence surrounding you both. Your heartbeat, the shift of your breath, the scrape of Ranpo’s chair as he leaned just a little closer—
It was suffocating.
"You’re really good at faking normal," he mused, tapping his chin.
His smile stretched, playful and lazy, but something dangerous lurked beneath it.
"But see, I’m kinda a genius? So stuff like that doesn’t really work on me."
He reached for his candy jar, popping one into his mouth as if this were just another conversation. As if he weren’t pinning you in place with nothing but words.
"So let’s play a game, okay?" he said cheerfully, unwrapping another candy—a deliberate pause, a build-up, forcing you to wait. "You tell me what’s up with you, and I won’t have to figure it out myself."
The candy clicked against his teeth. His smile didn’t fade.
"I mean, I’ll figure it out either way~."
Ranpo hummed. "Liar."
Another flick—this time, to your wrist. A harmless little tap, one that shouldn’t even be worth reacting to. But the expectation behind it? The way Ranpo was watching, waiting, calculating?
It made something twist inside your stomach.
"It’s weird, y'know?" he continued. "Most people have all sorts of little tells when they feel pain. They wince, they pull away, they rub at the sore spot, even just instinctively."
He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit.
"But you? Nothing."
"Ohhhh~." His tone lifted into something mockingly amused. "Wait. That’s not it, is it?"
Your fingers curled—Ranpo saw.
"You don’t ignore pain, you like it."
"What I don’t get," he mused, tapping a finger against his temple, "is why you try so hard to pretend otherwise."
He moved. A slow shift, resting his chin in his palm, his elbow propped against the armrest—lazy, relaxed, but watching you like a cat with a cornered mouse.
"What’s the point?"
You swallowed.
"I don’t—"
"Nuh-uh." He cut you off, "No more lying~."
Then, Ranpo sighed dramatically. "Okay, fine. If you won’t say it, I’ll just have to test it myself."
And before you could process what he meant—
His fingers suddenly tightened around your wrist.
A simple touch, his thumb pressed lightly against your pulse, fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist.
But the implication was what made something cold coil down your spine.
Because Ranpo didn’t touch people.
Not unless he was stealing snacks or draping himself over Fukuzawa like a spoiled housecat. But this?
This was deliberate.
Ranpo hummed. "Ah, see? I can feel your pulse picking up~."
"That means you’re nervous," he went on, "But not scared. Which means—"
He squeezed.
Ranpo studied you for another long, agonizing moment before suddenly—letting go.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms with a yawn. "Welp~! That’s all I needed to know."
Ranpo smiled.
"You’re really bad at hiding things, y'know? But that’s okay!" His tone was cheerful. "I don’t mind playing with you a little."
Ranpo reached for another candy, lazily unwrapping it with one hand. He didn’t look at you, but you could feel the weight of his attention.
"Just so you know~," he drawled, popping the sweet into his mouth. "I’m not letting this go."
"And the fun part? You can’t stop me."
That much was clear.
Ranpo knew your secret.
----
Wherever you went, cases followed.
Murders, disappearances, odd incidents—the kind of things that required his presence, much to his displeasure.
Ranpo had noticed the pattern early on.
It wasn’t just coincidence. It wasn’t just bad luck.
You were like a grim reaper in disguise.
And for the first time in a while—Ranpo wasn’t bored.
"Tsk, tsk~." Ranpo clicked his tongue, rocking back on his heels. "You really know how to keep me busy, huh?"
Another crime scene. Another case that wasn’t even worth his full brain power.
Blood soaked the alley floor. The body was still warm. And yet, Ranpo barely spared it a glance, instead letting his sharp green eyes drift to you.
You were used to this.
"You know, I almost feel bad," Ranpo continued, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Wherever you go, someone dies. How tragic~."
You sighed. "I don’t cause it."
"Mmm, debatable."
Ranpo grinned, but there was something sharper behind it.
"You're always at the scene. Always nearby. Even when it doesn’t make sense for you to be."
A slow step forward.
"Almost like you enjoy it."
Most cases weren’t worth his time. Most people were predictable.
But you? You were different.
Ranpo licked his lips, thoughtful. "Ne, ne~. Do you think the killers know?"
"Know what?"
"That they should be more scared of you than me."
There it was. That little, tiny slip of hesitation.
Ranpo grinned.
"Don’t worry, I won’t tell."
For the first time in ages, solving cases wasn’t boring.
Because you were there. Because you reacted in all the wrong ways.
Because you weren’t normal, and Ranpo loved breaking things open just to see what spilled out.
"I think I’ll stick close to you~" he hummed, nudging your shoulder as the sirens wailed behind you both.
"After all—" he turned, smiling like a child with a new toy.
"—I wouldn’t wanna miss the show."
It was getting ridiculous at this point.
The Agency had been busier than ever since you joined.
Accidents. Murders. High-profile cases that should’ve been one-in-a-million coincidences—yet somehow, wherever you went, another incident cropped up.
Fukuzawa hadn’t said anything outright, but you knew he’d noticed. Kunikida was constantly scribbling in his notebook, muttering about “statistical anomalies.” Even Dazai had joked about how you were the unluckiest (or maybe luckiest) person they’d ever hired.
And Ranpo?
Ranpo just grinned like he already knew the answer.
"Maybe you’re cursed."
You had shrugged. "Maybe."
Ranpo hummed, popping a piece of candy into his mouth. "If you are, I kinda like it."
And that had been the end of that.
You barely ducked in time as the enemy’s blade sliced through the air.
This case was supposed to be hard. A brutal serial killer—one with connections to the Port Mafia, one who had managed to evade capture far longer than expected.
Which was why Atsushi had been sent with you.
"I got him!" Atsushi growled, dodging a strike before slamming his claws into the enemy’s ribs—only for the bastard to twist away at the last second.
A few feet behind you, Ranpo yawned loudly. "Ahhh~. You guys are taking too long."
"Then help—!" Atsushi snapped, but Ranpo waved him off.
"Nah, I already solved it."
"…What?"
Ranpo grinned. "Yup! Figured it out ages ago. He’s got an old knife wound in his left side, see? From a previous fight. That’s why he keeps avoiding right-handed attacks—his muscles are weaker there."
Atsushi stared.
"Then—then why didn’t you say anything sooner?!"
"Because you were having fun~," Ranpo said simply, stretching his arms over his head. "And it’s not like I was ever in danger."
The second Ranpo spoke those words—the moment he revealed that he was the one who had figured everything out—The killer moved.
He must’ve known the Agency would catch him eventually. He must’ve known this was the end.
So if he couldn’t escape…
He would at least take one of you with him.
And he knew exactly who to target.
Ranpo—the brains of the Agency.
The knife swung for him.
And you—because you were you—reacted immediately.
Atsushi shouted. Ranpo’s eyes widened.
But neither of them moved fast enough.
Because you were already there.
You stepped into the blade.
A sharp, beautiful thing.
The knife sank deep, slicing across your side, the force of the attack knocking the breath from your lungs. Blood soaked through your clothes, warm and spreading, but the moment the blade left your skin—
Your lips curled into a smile. That was amazing.
"Oi—!!"
Ranpo’s voice was sharper than you’d ever heard it.
He caught you just as your knees buckled. His usual lazy demeanor had vanished—replaced by something much, much darker.
"What the hell was that?" he hissed.
You swallowed, heart pounding. "Keeping you alive."
"That wasn’t your job."
"Well, it is now."
Ranpo’s expression shifted.
Something visibly snapped behind his green eyes.
Atsushi roared—his tiger form tearing into the culprit, rage and panic fueling his attack. The sound of metal hitting the floor, the sickening crunch of bones breaking—none of it mattered.
"You shouldn’t be able to smile like that."
His fingers dug into your wrist.
"You’re bleeding."
The moment you collapsed into him. The moment he realized you had taken a wound that was meant for him.
The game had shifted.
Ranpo wasn’t bored anymore.
"I don’t like that." His voice was light, but his grip on you was too firm. "I don’t like that at all."
And then—Ranpo smiled.
A slow, terrifyingly amused thing.
"Guess I’ll just have to keep a better eye on you, huh?"
---
The first thing you noticed was the lack of pain.
You should’ve felt sore, at the very least. That knife wound had dug deep, and yet— When you shifted, there was nothing. No sting, no ache—just the softness of a futon and the unmistakable presence of another person.
Ranpo.
Sitting cross-legged beside you, sucking lazily on a lollipop.
He was watching.
"Ohhh~." His voice was mockingly sweet. "Look who’s awake~."
You sat up slowly, glancing around. Yosano’s doing. You had been expecting that.
"Completely healed" he said, stretching. "Ain’t that nice? If it were anyone else, they’d probably still be out cold for another day or two. But since it’s you~"—he wiggled his fingers—"poof! Good as new."
You stared.
Then, cautiously, side-eyed him.
Ranpo giggled.
"What? You don’t trust me?" He pulled his lollipop from his mouth with a dramatic pout. "That hurts, y'know~."
You didn’t respond.
Ranpo hummed, twirling the candy between his fingers before suddenly holding it out to you.
"Here. Wanna taste?"
You glanced between him and the half-melted candy.
Slowly, narrowing your eyes.
Ranpo’s lips twitched.
"Haaah~. So rude." He rolled his eyes, stuffing the lollipop back into his own mouth before reaching into his pocket.
Crinkle.
A fresh one.
He unwrapped it for you, flashing you a mockingly indulgent smile as he held it up—
And just as your fingers brushed against it—
Ranpo leaned in.
And licked it.
Smirking as he pressed it right against your lips.
"Here~" he purred. "Open up."
"C’mon," he teased, voice dripping with amusement. "You’re not gonna waste it, are you?"
You could still see the way his tongue had just been on it.
The heat of his breath, the lazy grin, the unmistakable enjoyment dancing in his green eyes—
This was a game.
And he was waiting to see if you’d play along.
You didn’t play along.
Ranpo pouted dramatically.
"Maaaan" he sighed, tilting his head. "You’re no fun."
The lollipop hovered at your lips. Sticky. Sweet. Still carrying the warmth of his mouth.
You stared.
It was a battle of patience now.
Ranpo watched, waiting for you to crack.
You waited for him to get bored.
"Fine, be that way~."
You almost sighed in relief
Until his teeth sunk into your finger.
Not hard. But enough. Sharp canines pressing down—just the right amount of pressure— Your lips parted, a sharp inhale slipping through before you could stop it.
And in that moment of weakness—
Ranpo took his win.
With an obnoxiously pleased hum, he pushed the lollipop past your lips.
"See?" he cooed, leaning back with a mockingly triumphant smile. "That wasn’t so hard, now was it?"
You glared at him over the candy.
Ranpo just giggled.
He had won.
This time.
Bruce sends his kids little notes using carrier bats. It first started when Dick moved out and he wanted to talk to his son but didn't want to call and then have dick hang up on him or decline, didn't want to see his message be left on read, so he bought a little circus bat and taught it to fly to wherever Dick’s scent was (ie he would hang a piece of dicks clothing up at one end of the cave) and built him a nest built of dicks old bedsheets and then tied a little note to its foot, just a little question about how the weather is in Bludhaven and if hes getting enough sleep and alfred misses him, nothing that can be seen as overbearing or forcing himself into his life, and the little bat flies all the way to Bludhaven and hangs on Dicks window and Dick sees it and memories slam into him full force because bats are batman and robin and he cant, not yet. So he doesn't open the window. Ignores him. But the little bat is anything if not as stubborn as the man who trained him so he stays. And after two days Dick relents because the bat hasn't moved an inch and is probably hungry, so he brings him inside and then he sees the note for the first time and opens it and then he breaks and the tears flow because Bruce cares and bruce still wants him. And dick spends time with the little bat and takes it on missions as Nightwing because they’re both nocturnal and then finally, dick attaches a little note to the bats leg and he flies off to bruce. And bruce sees the little bat on his window and opens it, when he spots Dick standing just below, smiling faintly. “Hey b.”
Bruce gets a bat from the cave ceiling for Babs almost immediately after her accident with Joker because he has responsibilities but he cant leave her alone so he sends her notes everyday and hopes the bat is a good enough companion and when she becomes oracle the bat serves as an exchange of information and contacts and bruce still uses him to check up on her and babs rolls her eyes everytime, but its fond
And so then when Jason comes bruce finds another little bat hanging in crime alley and uses her as a therapy animal after he dies and trains her the way he trained Dick’s but the bat doesn't have anyone to fly to and bruce tries not to cry when he sends it out with notes and it returns because it has no one to deliver to… until one day it doesn't come back. And bruce is afraid and confused and a week later the bat is back, a new note attached to her leg and bruce takes it and breaks down and he gets to talk to his son again.
Tim already comes with his own bat because Nightwing has one, but the little girl imprints on Bruce right away and Tim pouts but he cant really be angry, not when Bruce sends his bat over to him almost daily while hes in the batcave or his room or the tower with reminders to eat and sleep and coupons for coffee
When Steph arrives Bruce hates himself for firing her but he just cant right now, but he stills gets a bat from the cave and sends it to her and apologizes because he cant bring himself to leave everything unspoken between them and Steph actually adores it and every so often she’ll send him a note and bruce knows hes forgiven
For Damian theres no need for a bat because he lives in the house with Bruce, but then they have Goliath and well… he serves as a messenger when no one else can get damian out of the training area
bruce has never named the bats, thinking that was for them alone to do and he didnt want to get too attached because theres always a chance he pushed too far and his kids wont send a message back, but one day all his kids were hanging out in the living room together and bruce had just come up to join them when he hears dick say "hey wheres b? the movie's about to start?" and jason chucks a piece of popcorn in his mouth and goes "idk, ill send him a note." but tim goes "no i will!" and all together they yell "ROBIN!!!" and all their bats come flying from the cave and fly to their specific masters and Bruce cant fight the tears and when every little bat flies towards him and delivers their note he walks out into the living room and gives them the biggest hug
my (super)mannn he’s so adorable
DAVID CORENSWET as Superman Superman Featurette - Behind the Scenes Look
Batfamily thoughts: the batkids realizing the problem isnt that Bruce doesn't love them, it's that he loves them too much and he can be an over protective bat creator at times. He's the dragon that hisses at anyone that gets to close to his babies! And that gets worse and worse everytime he can't always protect them. His love language is being overprotective and being paranoid.
this has always been Bruce's biggest problem 😭
It's not that he doesn't love them, its that he loves too much.
Bruce's whole thing is that he's the best detective, he sees all, he knows all, he feels all.
Its not that he doesn't feel, that he doesn't empathize or understand, its that he feels too much. All of it, all at once. And he can't stop. And its breaking him. Because he knows how much it hurts them. Because it hurts him.
anyway characters who feel too much, feel everything mean so much to me (bc i relate) and Bruce in particular bc hes so misunderstood for it too, yeah :)
Broke: Bruce hits his kids
Woke: Bruce has a rule where if his kids hit him first, they have to spar with him
Bespoke: Bruce always finds a way to turn those “punishment spars” into a full-body pin that turns into a hug and that hug lasts until said batkid stops trembling or yelling and they can talk like normal people again
they're meant for each other or something