#dark!dick grayson

There's a villian the bats are trying to take down who is preying on people that are into pet play and that kind of thing. Reader, a hero in their own right and best friend of Dick Grayson, gets taken. The villian brainwashed them and treated them with a combination of Ivy's pollen and other biochemical things to make them pliant and constantly horny, along with some cuddle pollen for good measure.

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Some of his 'creations' he was selling on the black market as sex slaves as loyal and well behaved as a well trained dog. The bats had been investigating him before reader was taken and found out that he was specifically targeting people that already had leanings towards sexual submission and pet play, as their mind's were more easily broken into the perfect pet and well, as far as the villian was concerned he was only doing them a favor really, saving them from a miserable life as a person when clearly they were meant to be someone's perfect pet.

Why, they 'ought to be coming to him and not the other way around! As a matter of fact, if those troublesome bats, birds, and the GCPD wouldn't stick their ugly noses into it, he'd open a storefront and start putting out advertisements, convince some of those poor pups that they're better off coming to him and letting him turn them into perfect pets then staying in their miserable lives. Of course, there's also the pup's conditioning by modern society and sensibilities to consider, but at least a few would probably come willingly if they knew just how happy they'd be as a pet. Oh sure, the breaking in process is hard, but once they lose all those nasty people thoughts they're always so happy, especially once they go home with their new owner. Why, he's kept a few for himself and his pups are so happy being his and being together, the only thing that could probably make them happier is if he had more time to spend with them but alas all these other pups needed him so he could make them perfect and find them the perfect owner.

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The team got to reader before they could be sold but not before the damage was done, with a subdermal tracker kicking in during transport from the "factory" where victims were transformed into pets to the "kennel" where they are held before sale so prospective buyers can inspect the goods. Reader's tracker chip having been blocked out before this by signal blockers that thankfully were stationary to the "factory" and not inside of the transport vehicle, a stereotypical white van that even had the faded logo of a doggy daycare on the side of it. The heroes had been looking for weeks or months by now, and had assumed that the subdermal tracker was long discovered and destroyed, so it was a surprise when it suddenly came back online in the middle of an otherwise boring Tuesday afternoon.

Dick had been close to losing it since reader was taken, his precious best friend and longtime crush he had never had the nerve to confess his feelings for, gone suddenly and maybe for good. Early in the search they found a body, one of the villian's other victims whose buyer had clearly not treated with the care one might give a beloved pet, dumping the bloody corpse of the victim when they were done having their fun. This victim just happened to be a visual match for reader, much to the angst of the heroes when they found them. When dick finally caught a closer glimpse of the face he fell to his knees thanking every God and Deity he had ever heard of as the face he saw was not that of his beloved reader.

Maybe when reader was first rescued the only person they recognized was Dick, and only wanted to be near him. Dick assumed it was just because he was the first person they saw and maybe how close they were, not knowing that reader remembered enough to remember how they felt about him and how badly they had wanted him.

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When reader is rescued they are still brainwashed by villian and acting like the perfect slutty pet. Dick has to take care of them during this time and it's awkward for him and he feels like he's taking advantage, especially as reader was being drugged using ivy's pollen or similar and it takes time for it to wear off and work it's way out of their system.

When reader starts to come to and they realize what's happening, they're not fully in control yet, and hear dick talking to them when he thinks they're still asleep and also still brainwashed and probably won't understand him or remember anyway. He talks about how cute they are like this, how nice it is to have them close, how guilty he feels for liking this and how he's trying to savor it before it ends and he loses reader. How he's sure once they come to and realize all the perverted stuff he's done to reader they'll be furious and not want anything to do with him. And at hearing that reader hears how sad he sounds and is moved to do something. As well as turned on by the thought of Dick doing 'perverted stuff' to them.

They act like they're just waking up, shifting slightly and stretching, relieved when they realize that although they are now somewhat aware, their body seems to still be running on instinct. Dick chuckles at the sight of the reader sleepily walking up, and reader feels better having cheered him up slightly and finds themselves wondering how much longer will they be stuck inside their head, and after that what will happen. If maybe they can just pretend to still be brainwashed. Even just for a little while. Their memories of what happened while brainwashed are fuzzy and they'd like to at least experience what it would be like to belong to Dick. Even for a day. Before their best friend realizes that they're back to normal and they have to face him just wanting to be friends again.

How for the longest time they've known that deep down, they're a sub and really want to belong to someone. To be someone's sexual pet. And how, for probably just as long, they've been head over heals in love with their best friends and fellow hero Dick Grayson, Nightwing.

Reader wants so badly to live out this fantasy for a day while being in control, and getting to keep the memories. They're not yet fully in control, but as they are slowly gaining more control they find themself hoping Dick doesn't notice. That he let's them get away with being his pet for just one more day, one day where they can be his good pet and get to fully experience it, one day to cherish in their memories before Dick drops the bomb on them that he's not into them, doesn't wants to be friends anymore after this, or that he only sees them as a friend. Or even maybe that he is attracted to reader, but it's too weird after this, or he's not into pet play and if reader wants, he could be their boyfriend, but he could never be their dom or their owner, no matter how much reader desperately wishes he would be.

As reader is spiraling, Dick notices that something is wrong. At first, his mind doesn't go right to "they're finally mentally waking up from the brainwashing and are upset or confused." He instead gets worried they they are uncomfortable, horny, hungry, or need to use the bathroom.

A bewildered and slightly humiliated reader is taken out of their spiraling by Dick gently putting his hand on their exposed pussy, rubbing gently to provide some stimulation and see if the problem is that they're horny.

They make a surprised sound and buck against him, causing Dick to chuckle as he says to himself "knew it, horny."

And proceeds to start finger fucking reader, who is so surprised they are pulled right out of their thoughts. Dick talks to them throughout, little sweet nothings and praise, clearly thinking that the most they would understand is his tone. Reader tries to say his name as they come but all that comes out is a squeal.

Reader slowly comes to but their body is kind of on auto pilot. After waking up and getting finger fucked by Dick, Dick carries them to the bathroom and bathes them, continuing to talk to them the whole time, just sweet nothings and just talking about nothing.

At some point Dick pulls them out of the tub, dries them somewhat, then, much to their confusion, places them on top of... newspaper??? what???

"C'mon baby, go pee for me, I know you have to go, do your business and be good for me." Reader keens at that and finds themselves squatting and peeing on command for Dick, who brightly praises them

"That's it! That's my good girl! So good for me, going potty on the paper like you're supposed to! Good girl! Good girl!" While he pets readers head and offering a treat, a little piece of chocolate that reader eats out of the palm of his hand without even thinking about it.

Suddenly Dick has reader back in his arms and then places them down on the bathroom counter so he can wash them down there, still praising them the whole time.

"Such a good little pet, going pee on command for me, now stay still for me so I can wash your cute little pussy, yes you're so good! My good girl! Such a good little puppy for me!"

Reader is finding themselves getting more and more turned on, if a little confused and still out of it. They keen and moan and whine, bucking their hips and arching their back, wordlessly begging Dick who only chuckles and kisses their inner thigh before picking them back up bridal style

"Sorry Sweetheart, I need you to eat something before I can give you what you want. Don't worry baby, you'll have what you want soon I promise."

He carries reader to his kitchen and places them in a play pen on the floor with a large pet bed, water bowl, and a few squeaky toys. Reader doesn't even have a chance to think before their scrambling over to the squeaky toys, picking it up in their mouth and shaking and squeaking it, suddenly very happy to be doing so. Dick chuckles "so cute. that'll keep you nice and busy while I make breakfast."

Reader loses themselves a bit in the action of playing with the squeaky toy, finding it the most fun they can rember having and spurred on by the occasional praise from Dick as he cooks dinner on the stove. Slowly though, their stomach begins to rumble as the yummy smells start to hit them. Bacon, eggs, fried potatoes, all their favorites. By the time they hear footsteps approaching they've started to drool a little as they mouth at the chew toy.

They're surprised to suddenly feel something on their head which they quickly realize is Dick’s hand as he pets and scratches at their scalp.

"Hey pretty girl, you having fun with your toy?" Much to their embarrassment they actually bark in affirmation, which Dick answers with a chuckle, saying "Good girl! Your breakfast will be ready in a minute, just gotta let it cool for a minute and then you can have it."

He says this while holding a bright pink dog bowl with something that smells wonderful in it with steam coming off of it. Reader watches as he puts it on the kitchen table before going back to the stove to plate up what is presumably his breakfast.

When he finishes putting his plate on the kitchen table with his coffee and utensils reader watches as he places the dog bowl on the floor by the table, just in his line of sight. He then walks back over to the playpen.

"Alright cutie, you ready for breakfast?" A Yip! is the response he gets, causing him to chuckle as he reaches down and pets reader's head before running his hand down their naked back stopping just before their ass as they shiver slightly.

The toy long forgotten reader goes to the gate of the pen, which Dick opens and reader hardly spares him a glance as they rush on all fours over to the bowl on the floor with the yummy smells. Dick meanwhile goes over to his plate at the table still watching reader's antics.

Reader is surprised to find that the bowl is actually a slow feeder, and that it's filled with a mix of scrambled eggs, various sautéed vegetables including the fried potatoes they had smelled cooking, and bits of chopped up bacon; all cut into small pieces and mixed together which reader quickly discovers taste very well together, although that option might have also been influenced by the thrill that went through them at the thought of eating out of a dog bowl on the floor at Dick Grayson's feet like a loyal pooch, with the only scrap of clothing on their entire body being the collar they could feel upon their neck and which they could heard a metal jingling sound coming from it as they ate, a tag (tags?) being jostled with every move they made.

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Later when they have sex: as they orgasm, reader can't help but cry his name. Dick seems to take a moment to realize that the cry was anything more than just a unintelligible cry of pleasure, the likes of which reader has been making the whole time.

"Wait, did you just...? Are you awake?! Oh no, this is the worst time for you to regain awareness! I'm so sorry! You got brainwashed into becoming a pet by a villian!"

"We rescued you but weren't able to get you to snap out of it so I've been taking care of you in the meantime! I promise I wasn't just fingering you while you slept or anything! I mean- uh! You got dosed with sex pollen, a longer lasting variant, and they brainwashed you on top of that to make you constantly horny. I've been having to fuck you every few hours to keep you calm and to keep the fever at bay! I'm so sorry, I wouldn't have done this if it wasn't necessary. I completely get it if you never want to look at me again after this, but I don't regret it because I'd rather lose you as a friend than lose you in general. You're my best friend, and I love you so much, I couldn't bare to see anything bad happen to you!"

"it was bad enough when we realized you were missing, but to realize who had you, that you weren't their first victim and they already had several other victims they were either keeping for themselves or had sold... baby, we found the body of one of their victims right before we found you... she looked like you, had apparently been bought from your captor and the buyer went too far... for a moment there, before we got close enough... the body had your hair color, your skin tone, and they were too bloody to identify right away... I was so scared I lost you, so when I found out it wasn't you, I was so relieved. I swore to myself I'd get you back, I'd find you and do whatever I had to go keep you safe. We weren't sure if it would wear off at first, thought you might be stuck like this. Oh I'm so glad you're awake! I've missed you so much. I've been taking care of you all this time but I missed you."

"D- Dick." You manage to get out. Finding it hard to speak between your recent orgasm and the time spent brainwashed and nonverbal. Dick smiles at you, gentle and so proud of you for just managing to get that one word out, so glad it wasn't a fluke, that he wasn't just hearing things and you happened to make a cry that just happened to resemble his name.

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Maybe reader had a pet or some plants and Dick goes to the apartment to water the plant/ feed the pet/ bring them to his apartment or to the manor so they can be cared for while reader isn't able to, and he happens upon a notebook on reader's bed that he thinks might be case files so he takes a look thinking that and is surprised to realize it's not case notes but a personal diary. Maybe the first thing he sees is something mentioning pet play in such a way that he thinks it could have something to do with the villian who turned reader into this, but instead he slowly realizes he's reading reader's very personal thoughts and feelings and sexual fantasies that they were never able to express outside of writing about them and fantasizing. Maybe they mention buying a collar for themselves just to experiment and Dick finds it.

Wait, what if this happens while reader is missing, Dick searches their apartment for clues and manages to find their diary along with a small collection of sex toys.

Maybe instead of Dick, it's Wally or someone else who finds it, and then feels obligated to tell Dick that reader liked him and was into petplay, when he feels extra guilty thinking that he is taking advantage of his friend.

Maybe when reader was first rescued the only person they recognized was Dick, and only wanted to be near him. Dick assumed it was just because he was the first person they saw and maybe how close they were, not knowing that reader remembered enough to remember how they felt about him and how badly they had wanted him.

Maybe reader finds out that Dick knows how they feel/felt and or went through their stuff when they recognize a toy that they had bought for themselves to experiment with. Maybe it's a cheap knockoff nightwing tag for a dog collar that they had bought for themselves and attached to the makeshift collar they had been using, and they're surprised to see it now attached to the fancy high end collar they're wearing now. And they realize that not only did dick decide to collar them and with a fancy expensive collar at that, but that he must have found their makeshift collar in their apartment and seen the nightwing tag they attached and he actually took it off of the makeshift collar to put it on the fancy collar he's put on reader. Maybe there's another tag more clearly claiming ownership or maybe he actually took the cheap nightwing dog tag and engraved on the back of it with something like "Properly of Dick Grayson"

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There's the option that all this gets fixed, or where it doesn't and they live as a pet. Maybe the villian altered their body in ways that prevent them from living normally? Maybe they're stuck walking on 4 legs? The constantly being horny and needy thing doesn't wear off?

Do they decide together that reader will continue to live as Dick’s pet and act like nothing has changed? Do they even tell anyone that reader is cognizant again? Does reader try to return to normal life only to beg dick to keep them? Does Dick decide for reader that they'll go back to normal life and reader struggles and ends up depressed and feeling abandoned and unwanted despite dick thinking this was for the best? Does reader attempt to seek out the villian that did this to them begging him to make the changes permanent, that maybe that way dick will take them back.

Or does dick decide to keep reader regardless of what reader has to say about it? Maybe we find out it was never an accident that reader was captured by the villian, that Dick set it all up and staged the "rescue" so that the other heroes would think that he was only keeping reader to care for them after what happened. Maybe he found out what the villian was doing and had hired him to turn his best friend into a loyal pet.

Maybe Reader tries to return to normal life and even hero work, but can't help but obey Dick like the loyal pet they are.

You whimpered through the gag. The ropes scratched your skin as you writhed.

Why had you run in? Whether or not this was a Bludhaven hoodlum or just an opportunist, you’d run right into a trap. The Ghostface mask had given you pause. That was enough. Within minutes they had you bound in ropes and a gag over your cries. The blindfold came soon after. When they dropped you onto your bed was when you really began to struggle.

Where was Dick? Had the intruder gotten the jump on him as well?

Your pleas were muffled. Trembling, you begged for him to let you go. You promised not to press charges, and not to mention their attack to Nightwing or the cops.

As they sat you up, you held your breath. Their hands hovered over the knot binding your wrists together. Then their warm cheek was pressed to yours. You cried out. With your blindfold, there was no need for them to keep wearing the mask. Whoever it was, they wanted to see you entirely while they did what they wanted to you. Their hands wrapped around your stomach, tugging you closer to their torso. You jolted as their touch drifted to the apex of your thighs.

You wished they would say something. That they would preen and brag about having you like this to themselves. Anything. Instead, your terror sank lower into your gut. They began to remove your clothes. Your favorite jeans were tossed to one side. The cheap Halloween tee you’d bought to make Dick laugh was cut away from your body. They left your bra on, using it’s structure to emphasize their next step. More rope wrapped around your limbs. Knots dug into your hips and up your ribcage. The loops around your chest emphasized your breasts. He tugged the cups of your bra down, further pushing them out for his mouth to tease. Your captor hummed and kissed your skin in the rope windows they created all over you. They left your legs free.

Thrashing, you tried to get away. How you would get out of the ropes, you didn’t know. But you couldn’t stay like this.

The intruder tossed you back into the sheets. They pinned your thighs down and warned you not to move with a growl. The scissors they used to cut away your clothes pressed cold into the inside of your thigh.

Somewhere in you was the ability to stay calm. But as they snipped your underwear and tugged the fabric away, you forgot how to think. Terror overtook you.

Your attacker snickered as your breathing became frantic. With one hand they dragged their fingers up through the slick your body betrayed you with. With the other, they spread their palm over your stomach and leaned over you.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take real good care of you.”

Relief flooded your body.

Dick chose that moment to sheath you fully on his cock. You screamed behind your gag, now welcome of it’s presence. He groaned above you. Through his teeth, he hissed your name and began to mutter praises. Desperately, he also began to drag and thrust, making your body rock on the bed.

“You did so good for me. Such pretty thrashing and tears. All for me. Could barely keep myself from bursting. I thought about painting you up over your ropes… over my spider webs. But then you started begging… and I needed to feel you around me.”  He gave a shout as your walls fluttered. “Maybe we should do this more often. Maybe I should hunt you down at random, not just during this season. Keep you on your toes. Would you like that? Me surprising you with ropes and my darker side I can’t show anyone else?” He thrusted deep, holding himself there while your thighs trembled.

Hearing his ragged breathing, you knew he was close. You arched and did your best to move yourself on his length.

“Easy. Need just one more thing.”

He reached up and removed your blindfold.

You yelped with surprise.

The sudden reappearance of the Ghostface mask caught you off-guard, making you clench around him. Dick’s torso shuddered. He braced himself on either side of your hips to compose himself before reaching up for your gag as well.

“Gonna scream for me?”

Threading his fingers between your knots, he used the rope as leverage to tug you down to meet his thrusts. As you screamed in pleasure, the back of your mind sparkled with a realization. Each of the knots crossed over your sweet zones. Those places where Dick liked to kiss and mark you with hickies that only he would see. With the way that the rope dug into your skin, he would be able to see the remnants of this night for weeks.

That thought sent you tumbling into oblivion. Your body seized. Your muscles flexed everywhere, making Dick’s head loll to one side and his voice to rasp your name like a prayer. A few last rolls from his hips kept your high drifting and finally dragged his pleasure to completion. He pulled away from you while still pulsing. Fisting his cock, he watched as his last spurts shot over your torso and the ropes.

He tugged your blindfold back down. The darkness settled a blanket-like calm over your limbs. While your chest heaved, he took his time to gently undo his knots. With a warm towel he washed away the salt from your tears, the terrified sweat from your body, and your combined releases from your skin.

Soon, you were able to reach up yourself and remove the blindfold. Dick took the fabric from your hand and placed it on the nightstand next to the mask. He snuggled in next to you and pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“The door?” Your voice came out as a whisper.

Dick nuzzled his nose behind your ear, silently proud of himself for making you sound that way. “Already fixed. Got it while you were… indisposed and waiting for me in here.” He gripped you tighter. “How are you feeling? Was it too much?”

You shook your head. “Almost. But you showed me it was you just in time.”

That answer did not please him as much as you thought it would. “Should I have checked in sooner? Or several times?”

It took a bit of effort with your limbs still jello-like, but you turned to face him. Nuzzling your nose to his, you grinned, trying to reassure him. “If you’re going to surprise me year-round, yes. I would like a sooner check-in. But for tonight, it was perfect.” You aired a laugh. “I kept waiting for you to swoop in and save me from the big bad intruder. And then you did, right before you ravaged me,” you added, kissing his cheek. “The mask was a nice find, wasn’t it? Thank you for putting up with my antics. Were you okay under the mask?”

Dick relaxed into the sheets. “Yes, I’m okay.” His thumb smoothed up and down your hip. “You know I would never let anything happen to you. Right?”

You wiggled in closer to him. Sleep tugged at your eyelids. “Of course. I am perfectly safe with you around.” As you drifted off, so did your words. “You would never let anything happen to me.”

He held you tight as you fell asleep. Gingerly, he traced his fingers over some of your bruises. Convinced that you were alright, he drifted off to sleep with you safe in his arms.

***

Master List

Other Spooky DC Fics:

The Best of Darkness (S) - Vampire!Dick Grayson x Reader

I Can Save You (A, F, needles and influenza) - Dick Grayson x Vigilante!Reader

Don’t Make Me Love You (Angel/Demon AU, A, F, Challenge) - Jason Todd x Reader

Reassurance (A, S) - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Other Ghostface October Fics:

When he tries to get down with a little detecting, his team has a bad habit of not leaving him the fuck alone. Kon hovers while he’s gathering evidence, Bart pretty much runs all over it, Cassie never wears gloves and touches everything. Raven and Gar leave it to him because they know all about the Robins. Even Miguel has a bad habit of tainting evidence just by leaning over while he’s eating something and getting crumbs or sauce in the samples.

So, little by little, Red has been trying to get his team on board with good detective practices.

Case in point: he’s got Kon with him tonight, a fake boyfriend to take in front of Gotham’s elite so they can hopefully dig up some dirt and have tasty hors d'oeuvres at the same time.

The hair stands up on the back of his neck several times in the first hour, his inner vigilante sense kicking in because he knows someone was watching him.

He leans into Kon, the arm around his back tightening as he leans closer to breath against Kon’s ear. “Pick up anything?”

Kon pushes his glasses up while leaning down to nuzzle at Tim’s ear. “A few blank spots, nothing substantial.”

“There shouldn’t be any lead down here.”

“Your office another story, Mr. CEO?”

“You know it. Keep your guard up. Some of these debutants are ruthless.”

“Glad I have you to lead me through this, Red.”

The two of them make rounds with Kon playing the sweet bumbling college student dating successful CEO Tim Drake, and the pressure of being watched follows them.

It gets more weird as the night wears on. 

Tim’s favorite finger foods come out on the next round, none of which were on the menus he approved two weeks ago. The TV screens around the ballroom with scrolling photos of Wayne Enterprises friends and family switch to just pictures of the CEO in his office, in R&D, doing paperwork, standing up to present at a board meeting. Cans of grape Zesti could be found on the beverage tables. An unsuspecting tablet sitting close to Tim’s hip just appears, catching their eye when a short code appears for just a moment and is gone. The perfect puzzle for a detective.

Tim finally gets the message and sweeps the tablet up, makes some excuses, and leaves Kon in the hallway while he slips into his office.

It takes about five minutes to unlock the tablet, longer than he thought it would, but still.

Tim sighs gently, waiting for something fucked up to pop up on the screen, a video from Ra’s or the General, hell, even Lonnie at this juncture.

(The criminals obsessed with him really should say something about his style of crime fighting, but Tim isn’t even going to focus on that now.)

Instead, the tables flashes with his own insignia and Tim gasps—

Because he can’t move.

Whatever hypnotic suggestion was programmed into the tablet is effective when he doesn’t have the domino with whiteout or the suit. He can’t move, talk, or yell, his office is enmeshed in lead, and Kon wouldn’t know any better.

Everything makes sense when the gloved hand sliding over the back of his neck pauses, squeezes tight.

Fucking Ra’s.

“You’ve been very, very bad, Mr. Drake,” warm breath against his ear. Everything in Tim freezes, gets cold, when he realizes who actually sprung the trap.

The hand moves down his back, down his spine, over the nice suit coat, grips at his hip.

“Bringing the clone?” Renegade pulls Tim’s hips back into the front of his body. “You wanted to get my attention that badly, did you?”

Tim can’t even swallow the acrid taste in his mouth as Renegade’s mouth brushes against his neck, tightens the grip on his hips.

“I know what you were trying to do,” the villain chuckles lightly against skin, sending chills down his spine. “Bring your little boyfriend out in society, maybe catch a criminal tonight, hm?”

Those hands move, slide around the front of Tim’s body, touch him with breathy moans. “Too bad, I’m the one that caught you instead.”

One hand cups him between the legs, the other slides up his chest.

“Did you like my gifts? I made sure you had all your favorites tonight.”

The gloved hand grips his chin, turns his face to meet the whiteouts, “I’ve got them all at home waiting for you, my little Robin.” And Renegade smiles, wide and white, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the frozen CEO’s mouth. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you never go anywhere alone again.”

When Superboy finally gets enough waiting outside for Red Rob to figure out the tablet, he pushes the door to the office open, ready to throw off the disguise and do a little punch-smack-grab rather than investigate-research-review—

—the office is completely empty.

somehow, he finds the strength, his sticky hands finding your shoulders and his boots pushing into the floor to assist in propelling him into the room. with a yelp, you stumble back. you’ve no choice but to slide to the floor when his muscles give out again, trying to soften his fall by guiding him towards the couch, his back hits the edge and he lets out a weak grunt.

“Oh, my God.” you exhale, sitting back on your knees. simply getting him inside had you panting, but now that you were sitting in front of him in the light, you could see why. he was hardly sitting up, his head lolling against the side of the couch, eyes rolling back in his skull with his bloody lips parted, jaw slack. “Hey, hey, Jay,” you mumble, grabbing his face with both palms. you could feel the blood like drying glue sticking to your hands, but you tried to ignore the queasy feeling in your stomach and shake him back to consciousness, “wake up. Come on, look at me, open your eyes and look at me!” he groans, lids flittering, and you can tell he’s trying. finally, his clear eyes try to focus on you, but they seem different than the last time you’d seen them. or maybe you were simply remembering them wrong; you hadn’t seen Jason in five years, perhaps you’d simply forgotten that they were so translucent that they seemed to glow… then again, when have you ever seen anyone’s eyes glowing like this? “Talk to me,” you plead, pushing his damp, dark tendrils back from his face, “how can I help?”

“Thirsty.” he croaked, and you thought maybe he was looking past you, over your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’m thirsty.”

“Where are you hurt, what happ—“

“Thirsty!” Jason barked, effectively starting your heart like a furious engine. he’d never yelled at you before. one, blood slicked hand reaches for you.

you nod, taking it and carefully setting it down. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back. Just… try not to move too much, okay?” you get to your feet, hurrying towards the kitchen, and you don’t notice the way his fist clenches at his side. grabbing a glass from the cupboard, you hurry to the faucet and fill it, trying not to watch the water ripple from your shaking hand. the blood smeared against the glass as you gripped it, so instead, you avert your gaze back towards the living room. you can only see his legs, splayed out. please be okay, you prayed silently, please be okay.

finally, when the water reaches the brim of the glass, you turn it off and spin on your heels, about to sprint from the kitchen when you catch your reflection in the refrigerator. the silver heavily distorts your countenance, but you can still see the crimson blurs, massive and ugly splotches of blood from your shoulders to your bare knees. you pause, staring into the reflection in horror, but looking down at yourself. it wasn’t any less shocking than in the reflection, seeing your night shirt streaked in what you suspected to be your friend’s blood. but you couldn’t linger there, you couldn’t fall apart because he still needed your help.

“Okay, here we go.” you whisper, hoping to soothe him as you kneel by his side again, one hand coming up to cradle the nape of his neck and urge him to sit up as you bring the glass to his lips. “Drink. It’s okay.” you feel a soft tickle of relief brought about when you watch him take in water, lips smearing ruby over the rim of the glass. he took a large gulp into his mouth, and you wanted to exhale. that was, until he choked on it. “Easy!” you pull him up straighter, concerned.

but Jason was gagging, sputtering and spitting water all over the floor as he floundered. with a powerful swat, he knocks the glass from your hand and it explodes when it makes contact with the floor, shattering by your knees. you jump, recoiling from him as he pulls himself to his knees and doubles over. both palms smack against the wooden panels of the floor as he coughs water up on to it. you stare in horror, unsure of how to help.

“J— Jay…” you mutter, watching him close, and inch closer, “where are you hurt? Can you show me?” he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t pull away when you peel his soaking shirt upwards, examining his back for any injuries. with your fingertips, you prod carefully at his skin. it’s freezing, so cold that you’re in shock that he’s even still alive, but you can’t seem to find a single break in his skin, not a single bullet wound or gash from a blade. your hand careens his waist, feeling on his stomach until your fingertips brush a patch of rough flesh, and he flinches. one of his fists flees to grasp your wrist as he falls back on to his butt and inches backwards.

“No.” he grimaces, shaking his head, but his grip tightens around your wrist, so you scoot closer, wincing.

“I need to see,” you reply, looking up at him, “I need to know how bad it is.” but it’s almost as if Jason is looking through you, as if his vision is unfocused, his eyeline streamlined to your neck instead of your countenance. his hand is vice tight and squeezing so hard you fear your wrist might snap, and he’s drawing you closer, just staring. “Jason…” you gulp back a whimper, eyes widening, “that hurts…”

and then, strangely enough, it’s as if he snaps out of a trance. his fingers uncurl from around your wrist and he lays back, averting his eyes. you take a moment to rub the soreness out of your wrist with your other hand before you look back at him, seemingly docile for now, and you swallow around the lump in your throat, leaning closer. this time, both of your hands reach out for him, holding on to the hem of his shirt and gently push it upwards over his abdomen. what you see there sends your mind reeling.

a hideous Y incision from his abdomen up to the start of his neck.

an autopsy scar.

only, somethings wrong. the wound has already healed; the pale scar tissue is much too rough to be fresh, even. so, this scar had to be a few years old, at least. you stare, equal parts perplexed and horrified, sitting back on your buttocks with one, blood stained hand clasping over your mouth. you feel like crying, or screaming, or vomiting. maybe all three.

just, what the hell had happened to Jason since you’d last seen him?

“Of all the places for you to hide, you picked the most obvious.” a familiar voice breaks through your thoughts, pulling you back to the gruesome reality before you, and your head snaps up to see the figure leaned against the door jamb. “You really are desperate, aren’t you, J?” you didn’t have time to try and decipher what he meant. you didn’t care to.

“Dick?” you ask, hopefulness returning. Jason’s adoptive older brother had his arms crossed over his broad chest, but his pitiful gaze was almost a mockery of sympathy. “W— what’s wrong with him?” you asked, looking back to Jason, who was groaning as he lays back against the floor.

Dick quirks a brow, watching Jason writhe. “He’s dying.” he replied, jarringly flippant.

“What?” you snap, voice breaking over the realization that he must be right. Jason was freezing, he couldn’t keep anything down, and he could hardly hold the weight of his own body up. “No…” you sit up on your knees, reaching out to pet his icy forehead, but he turns away from you with an incoherent moan. you look back to Dick, biting down on your lip, “there’s nothing we can do?”

“Well, there is something.” Dick purrs, shifting his weight as he stands up straighter, willowy digits curling around the door frame. he glares into the doorway, staring you down like a lion stalking a very clueless gazelle. “I can help him.”

“Really?”

Dick nods, “Of course. Do you want my help?”

“Y—“ you gasp, peering down at Jason. he’s grabbed your nightshirt with both hands. “Jay?”

“Don’t…” his voice is hardly audible, and you have to hunch forward, getting as close to his lips as possible.

“What?”

Dick’s jaw tightened, gripping the doorframe tighter, he calls your name in a chilling, singsong voice. “You’re wasting time. And my brother is dying in your arms. Say it.” he urged, crystalline gems sparkling.

you frown, confused, looking from Jason to Dick and back again. you wished Jason was strong enough to finish his thought, but he couldn’t even keep his eyes from rolling back behind his lids. “Yes,” you said, finally, looking up at Dick with wet eyes, “please come help him.”

a low and wicked rumbling vibrates within Dick’s throat as he quirks a brow, and his fingers dig deeper into the frame, splintering wood from the sheer force. he then swaggers inside with a pleased sigh. “What a good girl you are.” he crooned, traipsing closer; his lips were stretched into a demonic grin, “Very, very stupid, but a good girl nonetheless.”

you blink, confused, watching his legs— they’re eye level to you as he encircles you. “What are you—“

“No wonder baby brother likes you so much,” reaching forward, his fist wraps around your neck, pulling you to your feet with a strangled choke. you stumble backwards, both hands coming up to claw at his wrist when he yanks you back against his solid chest, “he wouldn’t feed with me because he was holding out. Saving himself for his pretty, little high school crush.”

feed? you squirm, grunting as you try to wiggle free of his grip, but he’s so much stronger than you, escape is impossible. “Let go!”

Dick chuckles, lips caressing your jaw as he speaks, “I won’t lie, Jay, I’m surprised you were able to resist this one. I bet you can hear her heart from all the way over there, can’t you?” his fingers dig into your vulnerable flesh, squeezing your windpipe until you gag, and he plants a soft kiss against your cheek, “Listen to how fast it’s thumping!” he exclaims, giddy, “Like a little drum.” pressing his cheek to smush against yours, he coos out a taunt, “Are you scared when I squeeze your fragile neck?”

you nod, gulping swallows of air that burn against your windpipe when they’re caught by his fist.

“Leave her… out of this…” it’s Jason who speaks, now, struggling to push himself off the floor. he slipslides in blood and water puddles around him. “Leave her alone.”

“Jason, he—“ you start to call for him, but Dick’s other hand clamps tight over your mouth, and he shushes you.

“Shh,” he hisses against your face, before he looks to his adoptive brother, “leave her out of it? Oh, no, Jason, you’re the one that involved her. The second you showed up at her doorstep.” you can feel one forefinger drag against your throat, the pad surprisingly soft and chilly over your pulse point. “You didn’t come here just to starve to death on her living room floor, did you? You were going to fuck her, feed off her, hell, maybe even turn her, weren’t you?”

feed off you?

turn you?

your eyes widen, pieces of the puzzle starting to fall into place. but they’re shaping into a realization that you didn’t think was possible. you stare at your friend, who’d gotten to his knees, now, but that’s where he stayed— slouching on his knees in front of your trembling legs. his eyes glide over your bare skin, stained with blood that didn’t belong to you. you knew now it didn’t belong to him, either. they linger there, on your thighs, his eyes glowing dim like before.

“Yeah.” was all Jason says in return.

your whole world feels as if it’s been flipped on its head.

Dick’s laughing with wicked amusement, holding his palm tight to your mouth to muffle your squealing, “You won’t take any of my playthings because you want your own, is that it?” another kiss to your cheek and Dick’s hand slides from your mouth down over your body, menacing and slow.

“Please, don’t kill me!” you cry out; it’s the first thought to reach your lips as you squirm and push against him.

“I’m not going to kill you, silly girl. At least, not yet.”

“Dick.” Jason warns, baring unusually sharpened teeth. fangs.

his brother groped at you as his hand travels south, before he gathers the night shirt in his fist and pulls it up, exposing your quivering thighs and cotton panties. your legs snap together, and you whimper, humiliated. “Go ahead, Jay,” he urges, “bite her.”

Jason stares at the exposed flesh, clean and soft, and you could practically see his mouth watering as he inches closer. “N—no…” you whine, kicking at him. you feel a bare foot connect with his chest, but it doesn’t do anything to hold him back.

“Uh uh,” Dick mumbled, giving your beck a squeeze, “you kick again and I’ll snap this pretty neck of yours.” you freeze, croaking out a weak whine of submission. “Good girl. You wanted me to help Jason, didn’t you?”

with tears welling up in your eyes, you nod as best you can, and his grip on your neck loosens, just enough for you to be able to breathe again.

“Then, stand still and let him have you.”

meanwhile, Jason has grabbed hold of your legs and pried them apart, pressing his knees between your feet to keep them spread open so he can force his way between them, nuzzling his face into your thigh.

“Jason, please…” you choke out, shuddering when his frozen lips press to the warmth of your thigh. you can already feel the sharp edge of his fangs dragging along the supple flesh, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it, and a pathetically helpless yelp erupts from your lips when they sink in, with absolutely no resistance from your silken skin. you want to scream and kick, do anything you can to get him off of you, but you know Dick will make good on his promise to kill you, so you sob softly, watching through bleary eyes as your childhood friend starts to pull blood from you up to the surface of the pin prick wounds. it bubbles up in thick globs to soak his lips, and the sound of his slurping makes your head spin. “Jay…”

“I’m getting a bit jealous here, baby doll,” Dick croons, releasing your throat in exchange for a tight fist at the crown of your head, tilting it to one side to expose your sore throat to him, “watching how much he’s savoring the taste of your blood, hearing you moan for him like the perfect, little pet. Makes me want a taste, myself…”

“N—no, please, don’t…” it was hard to keep still with the tip of Jason’s nose bumping against your panties as he moaned, gurgling and dribbling your blood over his chin and on to little droplets on the floor. as much as you don’t want it to, the pain feels almost euphoric, and your body juts forward to stimulate your swelling clit against his nose bridge.

you’d hoped neither have noticed, but both seem to react. Jason grunting as he pushes his face flush against the damp patch in your panties, latching on to a fresh locale to drink from, breaking new skin, both hands come up to dig his cruel fingers into your bloody thighs.

“Don’t?” Dick repeats, mocking, as he lets go of your shirt to push his hand under the waistband of your panties instead. you cry out in surprise, two svelte fingers rubbing your slit, teasing your slick. “You’re fucking soaking,” he teases, his fangs nicking your throat, just enough to draw a single drop of blood to the surface, which he swipes away with his tongue, “you don’t need to be ashamed that you like it, a good bloodslut always does.” savoring the taste of your blood on his tongue, he groans, hooking his fingers into you like an anchor, before he bites down, fangs gliding as easily as they may softened butter.

the tears have broken the barrier of your ducts and streak your cheeks, one hand holding on to his wrist when he starts to pump his fingers deep inside, and the other trying to push Jason’s head from between your legs. the only problem is that Jason had already taken so much of your blood that you felt woozy, and your strength was all but diminished, so you can do little to fight the supernatural monsters off. with the two of them pulling from you, you can’t help but sag back against Dick’s chest, whimpering in forced submission. warm, liquid rubies dribble down over your clavicle and soak into the neckline of your nightshirt, and you can hear him moaning and slurping in your ear.

you moan, unable to hold it back, when his digit tips curl to brush against your sweet spot. it’s getting harder and harder to try and ignore how good his skilled fingers feel, spreading you open, prodding deep. your knees feel like jelly; you know you’ll collapse when you cum.

Jason has pulled away, panting and lapping at the blood on his lips, but his hands have found the waistband of your ruined panties, and are working them down your thighs, his practically snarling with desire when you’re exposed; Dick’s fingers refuse to stop, even when your back arches. the younger of the two finds his strength, and pulls himself to his feet, ripping at his clothes until he’s completely bare in front of you, face drenched in your blood, muscles rippling and cock throbbing and hard. the visage is horrifying and beautiful, as are his gleaming eyes when he grabs your face, pulling you in for a sloppy, sticky kiss. you whimper, trying to turn away— all you can taste is blood. your blood. Jason calls your name, thick with lust, and pulls your face back towards him. “Look at me.” he sounds desperate again, but there’s an edge in his voice; an authoritative tear. you obey, wet eyelashes sticking together when your gaze flickers up towards him, and instantaneously, you’re trapped in his stare, mesmerized. “Kiss me.” he demands, and you’re too compelled to submit that your mind goes completely and utterly blank.

what did he do to you?

all you want is to obey, to please him.

leaning forward, you kiss at his lips, slurping on the blood and smearing it over your own face. Jason seems pleased enough, hands pulling at your nightshirt to rip it apart until it hangs in pitiful shreds at your sides, and his palms envelop your breasts. he kneads, roughly, before his head dips, tongue hanging out from his mouth to catch a stream of blood leaking from the seal of Dick’s lips on the wound on your neck. “You’re so fucking sweet. Just like sugar.”

“Sweeter than sugar.” Dick chimes in, clearly having had his fill of your blood, too, he presses bloody kisses over the wound, “And I’d bet it’s not just her blood. Little whore is about to cum, I can feel her cunt squeezing my fingers.” as if to prove his point, those wicked fingers stuffed inside of your cunt jackhammer against you until you feel as if you’re about to explode.

you mewl, dazed, and pull back to rest the crown of your head against Dick’s clavicle. coming undone has never felt as intense as it does right now, with Jason watching Dick finger fuck you so mercilessly that your body convulses against the rough treatment. you close your eyes tight, breath coming in furious, little puffs, toes curling. you whine in ecstasy, hips rocking until the orgasm takes hold of you and renders you completely incapacitated. your nails dig into Dick’s wrist, but even as you claw at him, he doesn’t even budge. “Look at her go!” he chortles, “That was a big one, wasn’t it?” nuzzling his nose against your ear he kisses along your lobe, and you shiver, nodding with your eyes still closed. “Hope we didn’t break you already,” he mutters, pulling his sticky fingers free, giving your sensitive core a couple of cruel spanks with his palm. you jerk under each one, unable to catch your breath to make any substantial noise except for pathetic wheezing.

your lids weigh a thousand pounds at least, making it damn near impossible to open them, until you feel Jason lifting your legs, your feet rising from the floor. “She’s not broken yet,” Jason says, hooking your limp legs over his hips as he pulls you to his chest. Dick allows it, releasing you into his brother’s arms, and you fall forward against him. “Just a little bit cumdrunk, a little bit drained.” his strong hands then careen to support your ass as he spreads you open, suspended in his arms, to spear your folds with the head of his cock. you both moan in unison, his much stronger. your hands push against his shoulders, much too sensitive to take his entirety, but he isn’t giving you a choice as he thrusts upwards and pushes your body down simultaneously, filling you hilt-deep with one buck of his hips. “Fuck,” he growls, baring his blood-stained fangs, “she’s already clenching like crazy.” you can feel it, too, the way your walls spasm against the girthy intruder, refusing to open up any more than he’s willing to force you to.

“Sounds like you need to stretch her out,” Dick was saying, and even in your dazed state, you could practically hear the grin on his face, “unless, you’d rather I do it for you.” he offers, “I’ll ruin her, break in that tight, little pussy so you can just slide right in.”

“Fuck you,” Jason barks, pushing your body upwards so that he nearly slips from your body and then bringing you down on to him harder than before, as if he were making a point to his older brother; he was perfectly capable of snapping you in two if he so desired. “I’ll break her myself.”

“Jay… son…” you moaned, his name broken into weak syllables as you bounce, helplessly impaled on his cock. you couldn’t think of anything but how intense the sensation of his brutal fucking was. he practically slammed you down to his base each time he rutted, and the position does absolutely nothing to keep his thick tip from kissing your cervix.

your climax comes in a matter of moments, much quicker than the first and much more intense. your arms fall, limp, and dangle at your sides; you can do nothing but slump forward, squeal into his chest, and enjoy the feeling of being completely and utterly decimated.

“The little thing has already gone completely dumb on your cock.” Dick snickers, pressing himself to your back. you feel nothing but icy skin and realize that he’s stripped himself down, too. you bite down on your lip to muffle a moan of anticipation. “Absolutely fucking pathetic.”

would they take you together?

you hated how badly you wanted to feel them both inside of you.

Dick grabs you by the hair again, pulling your head back like a rag doll, and out of the corner of your teary eyes, you can see his bloody, evil grin. “Open up, baby doll.” you do, your jaw hanging slack, and he shoves three fingers into your mouth. you wince at first, especially when he forces them to the back of your throat, and you gargle out a tiny sound of discomfort. drool covers his fingers and dribbles out from both corners of your mouth. “Attagirl, go ahead and be a sloppy, little slut, because you’re going to want to give me plenty of lube to fuck that little asshole.” wrenching his hand free, you spit more on to his fingers and his palm when presented with it, before he drops it to envelop his cock, slathering it in your saliva and giving it a couple of furious pumps.

when he guides the tip of his manhood to your ring, you lurch forward with a nervous whine, but free hand flees to grip your shoulder, twisting you back and pulling you back towards him. “Where do you think you’re going, huh?” he teases. even Jason has slowed to a slow, shallow thrust to let his elder join in. Dick smears you with his tip before he worms his way inside, grunting with impish delight when you groan. “That’s a tight fit, isn’t it, baby doll?” he sneers against your cheek, tongue sliding out to flick at your drying tears on the apple of your cheek. once he’s snugly inside, his other hand grips one of your arms at the elbow, keeping a tight grip on the opposite shoulder, and falls into a ruthless rhythm in seconds. you nod, squinting, back arching now that you’re sandwiched between them, your moans turning more shrill and hoarse with each thrust. “You’re going to have to get used to it, because I’m going to fuck your ass every single day just to hear these pretty, little screams.”

Jason has started pounding against you, too, moaning under his breath as his head dips so he can litter your jiggling breasts with bites. you were much too overstimulated to know what you were even screaming for anymore. was it how good he felt, his protruding veins rubbing against your sensitive inner walls, or was it because of his fangs cutting into your skin, leaving a peppering of stinging, paired pricks. or maybe it was Dick, who was slamming into you from behind with so much ferocity that you were certain your body couldn’t take it— you were going to simply break in half of the brothers kept up this rough treatment.

even still, you felt a familiar bubbling in your belly. you couldn’t believe it. you were going to cum again.

Jason is the first to notice, both hands sliding up to dig his fingers into your hips until he leaves paling imprints in your flesh, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses in pleasure, “keep tightening up for me, baby, gonna make me cum in this little, fucking vice of a pussy—!”

“I—I can’t!” you beg; surely the next orgasm would shatter you, and your poor, hazy mind would fracture, “I can’t take— another— please…”

“We don’t care.” Dick growls in your ear, and you shudder at just how devilish he sounds, voice ripe with pleasure, “You’ll cum as many times as we want you to. Scream, cry, beg all you want, but you belong to us, now.” you whine, hands trembling, the symphony of sensations sending you over the edge just as Dick said you would, and you beg for mercy the entire time. mercy that neither of them had for you. “That’s more like it.”

your fervent, needy clenching had clearly pushed Jason to his own orgasm, because he was calling your name amidst the most animalistic of grunting, burying himself as deep as he could go until you could feel the shape of him against your lower belly, and he released. what was meant to be warm and comforting filled your belly with ice, but you couldn’t help but enjoy the way his arousal dropped out of you when he pulls free, glazing your bloody thighs. then, he drops your legs and steps awake. you felt hollowed out, and you want to double over and grip your belly, but Dick wouldn’t let you, even as Jason stumbled back and fell on to the couch, his cock twitching, lain over his thigh and shiny with his and your essences, cocktailed. you expected he might pant, if he needed to breathe, but instead, those clear glowing eyes watched you be destroyed by another.

even Jason at his roughest was no contest to how Dick was breaking you in. you practically dangled off of his cock, somewhere between conscious and not, as he drove himself into you mercilessly for several more minutes, moaning the most vulgar expletives you’d ever heard.

what’s worse?

you were still wet.

you were trembling and weak, eyes unable to stay open, and you looked as if you’d been attacked by a battalion of spiders by the fang wounds that littered your poor frame, you leaked cum, and you couldn’t form a coherent sentence anymore, but you were still so aroused; so tickled that his relentless plowing was more than torture. it felt incredible. you still mewled with your mouth open, tongue hanging out, eyes rolled back. and Dick loved every moment of it. “Just one, little slumber party, and she’s already braindead.” he snorts, grabbing both of your shoulders to hold you in place as he pounds away, “You picked an easy one, Jay.”

“She’s a good girl,” Jason replied, husky, as he leans forward, staring into your eyes, “my good girl.”

“Don’t get greedy.” Dick warns, though the muscles in his jaw tense. he pulsates within you, and you know he must be close. “This little bloodslut is ours. Isn’t that right, baby?” one of his hands glides upwards, snatching a fistful of your hair to pull your head up, holding it steady.

you nod, breathless, your entire body rippling from the force of his fucking. “Y— yes—!”

your humiliating, hardly coherent shriek of a response must’ve shredded what was left of Dick’s composure, because he howls in pleasure, pummeling your abused body a couple more times before he shoves you off of him. with a soft thud and a raspy yelp, you hit the floor and roll over on to your back, quivering, and Dick stands over you, fucking his own fist like a man possessed. he moans, eyes closing and head tilting back, and streamers of his release paint your marked chest, mixing with the drying blood and spit. “See?” he croons, after he’s done with his masterpiece, and squats down to grab your face, his thumb and forefinger hollowing your cheeks as he turns you to face Jason on the couch, “Ours.”

you blink, slow, but your eyes are too glassy to truly focus on either of them, your body completely spent. if Dick wasn’t holding you up by your cheeks, you wouldn’t collapsed on the floor, and most likely drifted into a much needed rest.

“What do we do with her?” Jason asks, uncertain, but watching you close.

Dick laughs, as if Jason had asked the obvious. “We pack her up like a pretty, cum covered sack lunch and take her with us. Come on, tell me you don’t want to see your little toy waiting for you on her knees, fuckholes wet and ready, back at the manor every night?” he lets go of you, allowing you to fall back, chest heaving, body twitching.

“I… I want to go,” you babble, weakly, “I want to go with you…”

“You must truly be fucked completely brainless to want to go home with two bloodthirsty vampires whose only use for you is fucking and eating you whenever we want.” Jason snapped, getting to his feet, he stomps over, a slow and devious smirk playing at the corners of his lips. maybe Dick was rubbing off on him. “Then again, I could get used to seeing you like this. Completely fucking ruined.”

you stare up to both of them, and a simper of your own tickles your cheeks.

Not necessarily by the family, but by others. Because Jason's soul is tortured. Tormented. It's known suffering from a life he can't remember and one he does - caused by men created in his God's image and by monsters that were cast from his kingdom.

Basically Father Hot Toddies is prime real estate (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Anyway, background. Jason attracts abusive people. He influences people to abuse him. Try as he might to help, there's a darkness at his fingertips and devastation in his wake.

Instant distraction -- Jason self-flagellating whenever he feels he failed to help someone or thinks he led anyone astray. It's supposed to be a penace, but sometimes Jason is weak and it's just punishment

Okay, we're back. Jason recognizing that something's wrong with him. Because too many bad things happen for him not to pick up the pattern.

Another distraction and it's kinky, I apologize -- Jason being assaulted in the church proper. In the confessional booths or in the pews ahhhhhh blasphemous okay okay

Protective of the people in his community and is well loved, in turn, but is conscious to keep a distance for their safety. He has compassion in spades and shows that in the ways that he can (putting the fear of God into cruel people, going out and sneaking food and blankets to the homeless, nagging at punks across the street to get their asses to school or the orphans at the church to mind the nuns).

Not as lonely a life as it seems because choice demons harass him on the regular.

They look after Jason in their own way, but it's wicked

Every person that hurts Jason turns up dead. It's part of Jason's motivation to keep withdrawn. There's forgiveness for everyone, even those who lose their senses around him.

Would Jason have the same forgiveness if the man who tried to assault him turned on a child? And Jason pauses, because his answer is no - burn him ---- and he burns.

Oh. For a time Jason thinking himself mad. Or figuring he's invited a demon into him because there are voices in his head and in those moments of weakness when he can't be temperate -- people get hurt.

Which leads to a lot of torment and praying because what's wrong with him? Tell him. Let him be better.

Jumping over to Dick's perspective on things for a moment because okay. The family loses it when they realize Jason has been lost to them. They bring apocalypse and travesty in their rage and it's a bad time.

But then - the familiar flicker of a damaged soul. Jason.

Dick going to Jason first. Following the sound of his cries and the smell of his suffering. And where some in the family might like that - Dick isn't one of them. Pain that Jason endures is Dick's to inflict, after all. Possessive!demon!Dick Grayson yes please.

Anyway, Dick shows up and suddenly Willis is shot dead on the doorstep. The cigarettes he would use to burn Jason with stamped into his forehead.

And Jason sees Dick there, stooped over Willis's body. Dick flicks the cigarette away. Looks at this small, scrawny boy and marvels at how Jason is still perfect - even like this. A soft smile, still all teeth and bite and menace. It's vicious in a way that even demons cringe away from, but Jason smiles. Tentative, innocent.

Because he thinks Dick is his guardian angel.

The rest of the family piles on if only because Jason really does attract all sorts of terrible things. They can't fathom what it is. Jason has always had that way about him, but it's amplified now and it puts him in danger. Jason's soul is theirs though; no one else can have it.

It's Gotham that wants it. Cursed land that outdates even the first of their kind.

Jason thinking he has angels looking out for him until he recognizes them for the demons they are. He tries to escape them, seeking asylum in a church and it deters them for a time, but only until Jason's own evil taints hallowed grounds.

This is so convoluted ahhhhh sorry

But basically overprotective!bats trying to save Jason's soul to sate their own desires

Jason rebuffing all their efforts and being a stubborn ass

He only relents when Gotham sends its worst after him and desecrates the church that housed him and the children under his care that he loses it and strikes a contract with some of hell's finest

It's a zero sum game though

Because Dick and the others - they can have Jason's soul. But only once the evil in Gotham is purged. Only the evil.

Just an endless war but it's fine because all the losses and suffering only makes Jason's soul that much more sweet

They're content to starve until then

Only they're not. They taste and nibble when allowed. And Father Hot Toddy? He's a generous man. //u////

Can an AU like this not get a little kinky? It feels like a crime that it wouldn't. Father Todd gets down  (*°∀°)=3

Extra Dickjay details:

Jason seeking out his 'guardian angel' because there's nowhere safer than with Dick. They sit in a grimy alley and Jason falls asleep with his head pillowed on Dick's thigh, or curled up against Dick's chest. And Dick humors it. He's soft about it, content if only because he can wrap himself around Jason and possess him for even a short time

Jason calling for Dick when he finds Catherine, not realizing Dick was the devil whispering in her ear. Jason loved her; Dick didn’t. He tested her love of Jason and she fell short

Dick being the demon Jason calls to in order to make that contract. Because he remembers the times Dick was kind (because for as jaded as Jason has become, he wants to believe that was genuine - not another manipulation). He'll sell Dick his soul, but only if Dick gives Jason hope.

Reverence. Shoulder and spine kisses. Worship. It’s overwhelming, tempting, addictive.

Dick knows how to play Jason. He never considers Jason knows Dick just as well. <3

Something something Dick won’t pray to anyone, but he’ll dirty talk marvel Jason like he’s something holy

Something something Jason anticipating a kiss. To tease him, Dick raises the cross of Jason’s rosary between them - a barrier because ‘what would your god say, little wing?’ And Jason is already succumbed, but he’d bite back a challenge, ‘you would let him stop you?’ And Dick would smile and snap the rosary from Jason’s neck, beads clattering on the stone floors beneath them as he defiles not an innocent lamb, but a wolf in sheep’s clothing. //u///

You didn't give much thought to what happened last week, if it hadn't been for Nightwing, you might not even be here. A part of you was always skeptical of vigilantes; why would anyone put themselves in unnecessary danger to save strangers for nothing? You pondered that while you leaned against the balcony railing, beer in hand and eyes closed as the night's gentle breeze blew around you. You didn't even hear the man landing behind you on the concrete so the hand on your shoulder startled you. A hand was immediately clasped over your mouth to muffle the surprised shriek and after they slowly turned you around, you were face to face with the Boy Wonder himself. When he was certain you weren't going to scream he removed his hand and flashed what could almost be described as a sheepish smile "it's just me, I didn't mean to scare you." "I'm just surprised is all, I might've dressed better if I'd known I'd be visited by the superhero," you half-joked, suddenly self-conscious about the MSU sweatpants and tank top you wore.

"Don't worry about it, I just wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened last week. It can really mess with some people and uh," his words trailed off before turning into a nervous chuckle. "And what?" You asked curiously. "This is a little embarrassing but I couldn't stop thinking about you," he admitted, again with a nervous chuckle. He left you with no time to process the admission before his lips were on yours in a gentle kiss, his hands settling on your hips and pulling you into his chest. It was a good thirty seconds of shock before you put your hands on his chest and pushed him away "I'm sorry, I'm not looking for anything and I don't know if I'm exactly comfortable with anything." His brows furrowed a bit in confusion "well, I saved your life." "And I appreciate that I really do but-" you said but he cut you off "then you could show a little gratitude."

"I don't think it's too much to ask for," he stated, a new sharp edge to his voice. "I think you should leave," you said quickly, though there was little firmness in your voice. You couldn't physically make him leave; he was bigger and he had you essentially cornered on the small balcony of your apartment. "I saved your life, I won't be going anywhere until I'm done," his voice was painfully calm and you knew what he meant. "Please don't do this," was your vain attempt at reasoning with him. He was a hero, wasn't he? You glanced behind him where your phone sat on the tiny table. He briefly glanced behind him and let out a chuckle "go ahead. Try and get it." You knew your chances of success were slim to none, you knew that as an absolute fact, yet you still tried to get past him to the mobile phone and the attempt went as well as you expected.

In a single swift motion, he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back, pressing your front painfully against the rusted and jagged metal railing. "So close," he cooed mockingly, pressing his front against your back so you could feel the entirety of his hardened length. Your eyes screwed shut when he forced your sweatpants down and kicked your legs apart. The hand that wasn't holding your arm uncomfortably behind your back slowly slid down the front of your panties. He held your arm tightly in a way that hurt no matter which way you moved to try and free yourself. Slowly, he ran two of his fingers through your folds while his thumb slowly circled your clit. "See, doesn't that feel nice?" He asked when he felt your arousal covering his fingers. "N-no," you croaked out, tears starting to swell in your eyes. You thought about screaming to get the attention of anyone below and as if he read your mind, he released your arm and tightly clasped a hand over your mouth.

"Sorry, baby, I can't let you scream. You just need to be a good girl for me and take it. I think I'm being more than generous in working you so it doesn't completely hurt," he reasoned to you just as two of his fingers dipped into you. He slowly pushed his fingers deeper into you and curled them before adding a third. You dared to open your eyes and look down; people were just going about their lives without a care while this happened just above them. "People are pretty clueless, huh?" He said with a quiet little laugh, just as his fingers brushed against your g-spot. You could feel the pleased grin on his face when a small, desperate whimper of a moan came out only to be smothered by his hand. When he was confident you'd been sufficiently "prepped", he pushed the thin fabric down your legs and freed his erection from the confines of his suit with a sigh of relief.

"It'll be okay, I promise, baby," he whispered as he lined himself as your entrance and slowly impaled you on his shaft. He pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear and nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck when he was fully sheathed inside of you. That was too intimate of a gesture for your liking; if your hands weren't gripping onto the railing for dear life, you'd slap him but you had no doubt he'd easily be able to catch your wrist. His arm wrapped around your waist and held you tightly as he slowly withdrew his member, only to quickly thrust back into you. He shushed you gently when he heard your quiet, muffled sobs in between your moans. "It's okay, baby," he whispered, using his thumb to wipe some of your tears without uncovering your mouth while his other hand again fell to your clit to slowly tease the sensitive bud.

"There you go, baby," he cooed happily when he began hearing more moans than sobs, continuing to rub tight circles on your bundle of nerves. His thrusts that started as long, slow strokes were quickly turning into him rapidly rutting into you as he began to near his high. "You can let go, baby, be a good girl and let go, I can feel you squeezing my cock, I know you wanna," he mumbled in a husky voice. You shook your head as best you could with his hand allowing hardly any movement but you were lying. Your legs were beginning to shake beneath you and your breathing was already ragged as his fingers put more and more pressure on your clit. "Come on, baby," he mumbled, again using such an intimate pet name that completely clashed with his rough hands and the hard rutting of his hips. You hated the feeling of the spring tightening and tightening in your stomach, you did try to hold it off but it just tightened more and more until finally, it snapped.

A sound somewhere between a sob and a moan was muffled by his hand as you came, your walls fluttering around his intrusive member. "Good girl," he said with a moan, pressing his hips flush against yours as he shot jet after jet of his load into you. "Such a good girl," he repeated in a hoarse whisper as he slowly moved his hips a few times, making you shudder as you came down. You shuddered again when he pulled out slowly and you felt his spend beginning to drip out down your thighs. His arm around your waist was the only thing that kept you from sinking to the floor and curling up in a ball. He panted softly as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, planting a trail of feather-light kisses from the nape of your neck up to your ear before pressing a final kiss to the shell of your ear.

You didn't squirm away when he carried you into your apartment after fixing himself. You didn't run away while he ran you a warm bath. You didn't even put up a fight when he ever so gently set you in the warm water and began washing you, paying special mind to the area between your legs, washing away the evidence. Shell shock had consumed you. After the bath, he dried you off and carried you with ease, like he would a ragdoll. He laid in bed with you, holding your bare form against his side and rubbing small shapes on your shoulder with his thumb in silence. Maybe it was five minutes or maybe it was an hour before he got out and pressed a kiss to your forehead "I'll see you later baby, okay? Remember, you're a good girl." You robotically nodded to his words and turned on your side, curling in on yourself some. He leaned over you and kissed you quickly before leaving through the front door. You wanted to scream, cry, hurl, smash something, but you laid there still as a statue. You wanted to feel angry or scared or paranoid but you only felt numb. He managed to turn you into a shell of yourself in one night.

Deciding it was best to stay home to process, you took the rest of the week off work. From the short amount of time he was in your bed, he left the scent of his cologne so you slept on your couch and used the other bathroom. You threw out the towel he used to dry you off, the washcloth he cleaned you with, and the clothes you wore that night. It was only a couple of days later when you were in the middle of semi-enjoying leftover pizza in sleep shorts, a t-shirt, and a bathrobe at 11 AM when someone knocked on your door. You ignored the first round of knocks but finally opened it when the second round sounded more impatient "yes?" A man and a woman stood there in suits but the woman led "we're detectives with the Detroit Police, can we ask you some questions?" "Um, sure, I guess," you said awkwardly, willing your expression to remain stoic. "There have been some robberies in this complex and surrounding buildings, have you seen anything suspicious?" She asked. You shook your head "no, I uh, I work most nights so I don't see much." "Have you noticed anything suspicious? Missing objects, open doors or windows you left locked, misplaced things?" She asked, looking at you curiously while her partner remained silent. "No, nothing of the sort ma'am." You zoned out while she continued questioning you, answering robotically without thinking. Your gaze kept falling to her partner but you immediately looked down each time you nearly made eye contact. "Well, if you think of anything, here's my card. Be sure to either call or come down to the station and ask for me by name. Grayson, anything to add?" She asked, looking back at the man. "I don't think so. Thanks for your cooperation, Miss, we're incredibly grateful for the cooperation," he said with a smile.

"Of course, officer," you replied automatically without thinking. He smiled more and hung back as his partner began to leave. "You're a good girl, I'll see you later," he whispered with a wink before following after the woman. Your stomach dropped as you watched him walk away, a sudden urge send you running to the bathroom, expelling the contents of your stomach. You hunched over the bowl for at least ten minutes, expelling everything you'd eaten in the last day until just the bile was left coming up. Even when there was no more bile, you stayed there. Of course, he was a cop. Now you knew, vigilantes didn't save strangers for nothing, there was always something they wanted, just like everyone else in the world.