#bruce is soft easily ONLY with kids

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alfred's Boy Part 5

@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.

Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.

Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.

Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.

If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.

Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.

Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.

Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.

What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.

Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.

"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.

Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.

Not dating his ass.

"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."

Wes hums, "If only we could dance."

"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."

Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.

Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"

Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."

"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."

Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."

"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"

"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.

"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."

Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."

Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.

If Alfred allowed, of course.

"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"

His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.

"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.

"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.

"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"

"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.

Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."

"You do?" We gasped.

"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.

"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.

"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"

"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.

Bruce is instantly weary.

"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.

"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."

"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."

Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?

He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.

Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"

Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."

Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."

Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred's boy #Part 5 #Danny has a medical condition where he needs cuddles #Wes has been in Wayne manor for fourteen hours and is tearing them apart #Jason is HOT and the Amity people know it #Bruce isn't sure if Wes and Danny are a thing #Nothing makes sense at Wayne manor #You bet all of Danny's wanna be sutiors are getting dressed to the nines for opra

[bet-on-me-13]

Ellie wasn't born a Halfa

So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.

A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.

Because the kid was glowing.

When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.

(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)

When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.

"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."

And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.

"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"

"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."

Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!

"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"

She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.

"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".

For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.

It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.

"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."

"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."

"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.

"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."

"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.

"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."

Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!

The Pits perked up

He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.

"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."

She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.

"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.

The Pits felt a sense of dread

Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"

"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."

No...

Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.

"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."

NO.

He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.

"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."

...

For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.

...

Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.

Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.

And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.

Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.

When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Dani Phantom #Danielle Phantom #Ellie Phantom #Ellie is younger #Vlad decided to try his experiment the moment she was old enough to feasibly survive #The Pits are not seperate from Jason #They are actually his Ghost Half (aka his emotional half) shining through #Jason is a Halfa #He doesn't know that though #After they finish their conversation Jason asks Dp if she wants a name #She says yes and eventually he calls her Stella #Or Ellie for short #Cause she is his little starlight #Danny is unaware that Ellie exists #I wonder what happened with him #Maybe he is living his life back in Amity? #Maybe he is on the run because the “real danny” showed up with Vlad claiming that he had been replaced by an Imposter Ghost #And his Parents instantly believed him because Vlad is claiming that he has been no contact for so long trying to save “the real danny” #Maybe Jason finds a second glowing kid hiding behind a dumpster? #And maybe he realizes that this is his daughter's older brother? #Is that what happens? #Well maybe it is #But that's between Me and my crippling inability to finish my Part 2's

[dayasusays]

warnings ! — SMUT, requst, headcanons, fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne, breeding kink, soft maledom, dirty talk, fingering

summary ? — he has breeding kink.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who is always so incredibly gentle.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who sometimes comes home from patrol too tense; he sits on the bed and flinches when your palms rest on his strong shoulders and massage them lightly, bringing a slight smile to his tired face.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who prefers to remain silent when he's in your company. when you sit down behind him, beginning to leave wet kisses on his shoulders and back, he lets out a quiet sigh.

“what are you doing, sweetheart?” he relaxes under your kisses.

“what am i doing?”

“kissing me. giggling. trying to relax me.”

“i always do that,” you counter, continuing to snuggle closer to him; bruce can almost feel you under his skin as you climb into his lap and continue kissing him.

his palms settle on your thighs and squeeze gently as he smiles contentedly against your lips. pulling you against him, smelling your shampoo and body odor, whispering something about how much he loves coming home just because of you...

the sensation of your presence is enough to make him breathe faster and press his boner closer to you.

“did you just-…”

“wasn't that your goal, little brat?” wayne smiles down your neck, “you did it. congratulations.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always takes the time to prepare you well; he doesn't know, maybe he'll make you cum on his fingers twice before entering you.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who will always take a slow pace in the beginning, letting you get used to him. he doesn't care how many times you've done it; he only cares that you don't get hurt.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who gets dizzy with how tight you are. “it feels so good in you, love,” he keeps whispering in your ear, nibbling on your lobe and causing you to moan loudly with another thrust, “you're so tight for me, aren't you? good girl.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who loves to stop. plunges into you fully, the head of his cock pressing against your g spot, but he stays still. “can you give me a minute, baby?” sighs bruce, throwing your legs over his shoulders and leaving a brief kiss on your leg, “i just want to feel you.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who miraculously remembers your agreement that he shouldn't cum inside on days when it's not safe; i mean, he could get you pregnant the first time. just look at this man.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who imagines you with his child and inside, somewhere in his lower abdomen, something tugs hard.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne who never knew he had such dirty desires.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who quickens his pace and pushes harder now; his big palms squeeze your waist while his lips catch your loud moan and lightly nibble your bottom lip.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who moans into your collarbone as you start to squeeze inside harder. “you want me to cum right now, don't you, hun?” bruce comes out almost completely for a second, leaving only the head, but only to crash into your thighs with renewed force with his own, “you want me to cum inside? you want me to get you pregnant?” he bites your shoulder (but not too hard, of course, he doesn't wanna hurt you), holding back his own growl as he pours inside. and the feel of his cock twitching inside you makes you cum right along with it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who takes exactly a minute to recover and slides out of you easily, leaving a light kiss on your lips. he sits down in front of you, watching you carefully as you try to regain your breath.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who can't take his eyes off the way his semen flows out of you. he swears it's the sexiest thing he's ever seen in his life.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who will definitely talk to you about it. you try not to laugh because his face when you say you wanted to talk about kids a long time ago is a must see.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who laughs softly with you, pulling you onto his lap and resting his head on your shoulder. “so everything's okay? and you want us to…” your confident nod is enough for him to exhale in relief. “then, love, we should do well. how about another round? maybe two?” he whispers in your ear, biting your lobe and smiling.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who can be a little rough sometimes. but just a little, because you're his beautiful wife who makes him nuts and who just agreed to have a baby. ୨♡୧

🦇 abt me | m.list

#dc comics #dc universe #writing #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne headcanons #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne #batman x y/n #batman x fem!reader #batman x you #batman smut #batman x reader #batman #dc x you #dc x reader #batman headcanon #bruce wayne headcanon #smut #dayasu’s collection !! ✩ #concert !! ✩

[p1nkshield]

Part two of the prompt written by phantom-dc

I hope you enjoy!

Jason carefully picked up the core after Bruce left and looked over it, inspecting each and every inch.

“Thank you”

“So you can speak!” Jason said incredulously.

“Takes a lot” a small barely audible reply entered Jason’s mind. “But I will heal eventually.”

“Then rest up kid, only let me know if there’s something you need okay?”

“Okay”

Jason stayed in the manor carrying around this stone they got from patrol a few weeks ago. If he was not holding it was sitting on something soft within his reach and line of sight. His family grew more and more concerned as the weeks went by.

Tim began to preface the goals of the family meeting regarding Jason’s behavior.

“Okay it is clear to everyone here that ever since Jason got that weird rock on patrol he’s been acting different. I thought we could all corroborate our experiences”

Damian piped up “I saw him speaking to it as if it responded to him. He spoke to it and waited in turn” Damian then took some time to consider his words. “He then looked at me quizzically as if I were acting strange.”

Alfred then spoke as his brows knit together “I saw young master Jason with the old children’s book titled Mog’s birthday. I thought perhaps he was enjoying it for the sake of nostalgia as I used to read it to him when he was a child. I soon found myself mistaken. He was reading it aloud to this ‘core’”

“Has anyone noticed that when we discussed the organization behind this attack Jason just gets up and leaves?” Tim questioned

Dick nodded along with everyone “One more thing. He was singing to it. I haven’t heard him sing since…”

The rest went unsaid. Bruce needed to confront him. Perhaps this power source was more than he realized. If he had led his son to being mind controlled after everything that happened to him he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He had to get to the bottom of this quickly.

Jason made his way to the dinner table chatting idly with the core in tow.

“Hey kid, one thing to know about Alfred is that he’s the coolest guy you’ll ever meet, he was the one who got me into some of my favorite hobbies.”

“And my old man, usually is such a pain in the… uhh yeah, he never really trusts me with important things off the battlefield until he trusted me with you.”

A light laugh floated up from the core “I’m important?”

“Of course you are, you’re a kid! I may be a scary gunslinger but I still want to protect the innocent”

The core spoke again, this time softer.

“Thank you”

“You’re welcome. You’ve been rather talkative today do you feel any better?”

“Yes! I might be able to”

“Jason, please sit down.” Bruce called out to him

Jason sat down a little annoyed since Bruce interrupted the child. looking at all the worried faces cooled his anger as Bruce began to speak.

“Jason have you noticed that your behavior has been significantly different as of late?”

“I mean yea but”

Before Jason could finish his sentence the core glowed with ice blue light and floated out of his reach.

“KID?!? TALK TO ME WHATS GOING ON?”

His answer came in a white haired glowing little boy in a black and white hazmat suit falling towards the ground, whom Jason caught easily.

This family of crime fighting detectives had never looked so surprised. Dick dropped his forkful of spaghetti onto his lap as he stared.

“What? I thought you knew!”

@hnymp

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@simplykaren

#dc x dp #prompt fill #I’m not the best at tagging so here goes #i ran out of tags #At the Core fic

[t4tmagicians]

"Am I too dark?" Dick asks, at age eight. He's in the first design of what will be his Robin costume, it's barely more than his old circus leotard with a cape stitched onto the shoulders.

Bruce pauses, his hands full of rough, thick fabric. Dick is looking at the mirror they dragged down to the Cave together - it's really starting to look like somewhere lived in, instead of a messy collection of scaffolding and computer screens. He's not glaring at his reflection like he's displeased, it's a softer, almost tired looking expression.

"Too dark for what?" He asks, because he has an idea, but Alfred had reminded him that Dick was struggling with direct communication and Bruce would need to tempt out his feelings.

"To be rich. Cause I am now, kinda." Dick says, like it's obvious. He's giving Bruce a confused look, or at least, he might be. His eyebrows hadn't fully grown in yet, and it was a little hard to figure out his expressions.

"No." Bruce says, pulling a row of stitches tighter. "You're not too dark. You don't look much darker than me." He's a bit unsure on the R emblem on the chest, but Dick had been very insistent on it.

"It's different. I don't -" He makes a frustrated sound. "I don't know why I'm dark. I look like you, but wrong." He says simply, and runs a finger down his nose, frowning.

"You're not wrong." Bruce says, because it's true, and it's the only thing he can think of. "Not for how you look."

"I'm hungry. Can we ask Alfred for pancakes?" Dick says, and that conversation is over.

.

"Chavvi." Dick, age ten, says quietly, as Bruce runs a brush through his dark curls.

"Chavy?" Bruce repeats, wincing as he slowly unpicks a knot with his hands - his hair was getting long now, he might want to suggest a haircut soon.

"You're saying it wrong." He corrects. "Chavvi. It's what mom called me. I think it means kid." He wiggles in the too big chair, and Bruce has to hold his head still to make sure he doesn't accidentally rip a chunk of hair out.

"Chavvi. Okay." Bruce says, and after a moment of hesitation, he adds, "My mom called me lovebug."

Dick snorts. "Lovebug. That's silly."

"Yeah," Bruce looks up at the portrait of his mother and father hanging over the fireplace, and doesn't resist the small smile on his face. "It is silly."

.

"Are you sure?" Stephanie Brown, age fourteen, asks in hushed tones. She's pulling her hair back from her face, and staring at the old mirror in the Batcave that had been there for nearly a decade.

"I can see it." Dick, age twenty, says, leaning over her shoulder. "It's in the cheekbones. See?" He pokes his own, before poking Stephanie's until she giggles, and Bruce has to remind them to get ready for their mission.

"Come on, chavvi." Dick says, ushering Stephanie along. Bruce makes an additional note to Steph's file that night - ethnicity, white (British-Irish) and roma.

.

"Am I too dark for you?" Damian, age ten, snaps, and it's like Bruce is twenty years younger, and the Batcave was only a tiny corner of what it was now, and Bruce wasn't sure how to love a son.

"No." He says, firmly. Because Damian isn't. Later, Dick, age twenty-two, is found fussing over Damian's skin, claiming to care about his scars and their healing alone, but Bruce can see the small, eight year old boy inside of him stood at a mirror and asking, am I too dark?, in every soft swipe of a thumb of Damian's warm brown skin.

.

Duke, age sixteen, takes to the family quickly. Dick goes to ruffle his hair, before realising it's too short. He settles for an awkward headpat instead, which makes Tim laugh.

After a few night shifts, Duke looks at a mirror, and grimaces. "Am I getting paler?"

"Comes with the territory." Stephanie, age eighteen, explains. "I promise, I'm not this white naturally."

It's true, Stephanie browns - pun not intended - easily in the sun.

"Gross." Duke says, and Dick and Stephanie nod in agreement.

.

Summer is sweltering, and Dick is darker than ever. He looks in a mirror, and to Bruce, and smiles brightly. "We need to get you a tan, old man. You're too pale."

"I could stand to be a little darker." He agrees, and he feels a little more full inside.

#pushing my romani steph agenda #dc #dick grayson #nightwing #romani #romani character #romani dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc fic #damian wayne #duke thomas

[denileisariver]

☆ i know your wife, and she wouldn't mind ☆

pairings: batman x f!reader, nightwing x f!reader

warnings: smut! cheating, reader is a home-wrecker, bruce is married dick just has a gf, unprotected sex, doggystyle, angst, basically pwp, bruce hates himself whats new, mean bruce?, slut dick grayson (like father like son), oral sex (f!receiving), no physical descriptions of reader besides genitalia.

a/n: just had some thoughts. probably poorly paced but whatever. maybe tumblr will actually show my post in the tags this time :).

bruce wayne aka batman ☆

you knew he was married. from the moment you met him, you noticed that metal band around his ring finger. he talked to you about his kids, how he loved his family dearly, and yet-

"mmgh! ah- fuck!", he had you on all fours, ass in the air, girthy cock pounding relentlessly at your tiny hole. bruce fucked like he hated you, pushing and pulling to contort your body in any way he pleased. grip on you so tight you'd find bruises on your hips and arms when you looked yourself over in the mirror, not that you minded.

in fact, you relished in it. you knew there was a part of him that did hate you. and hated himself even more. you could feel it whenever you ended up in his bed, when he would kiss you. it always started off slow, ashamed because he knew he shouldn't have been doing it in the first place.

could feel it when he tore your clothes off, pushing you onto the bed. roughly tweaking one of your nipples in one hand, your bottom lip caught in his teeth. always, always so angry.

"that's it, fucking take it," bruce grunts, almost a low growl, with each hard thrust. one of his heavy hands hold your face down into the mattress. you'd sometimes stare at the photo of his family on the nightstand. the image blurry because of your tears. "dirty fuckin' girl.."

all of it was too much. the filthy combination of his fat cock, thick fingers toying with your clit, the rhythmic sound of skin slapping, and the loud headboard banging against the wall. it drove you into a frenzy, drool spilling from your mouth onto his pillow, a ring of slick 'n' sticky cum forming at the base of bruce's cock. "c-cumming!"

he always rode out your orgasm for as long as possible, only slowing down when your body was falling limp in his arms. you'd thank him, and he was only soft on you for so long before putting his walls back up soon after.

he hated you. no, hated himself. hated how he only would start to feel guilty after you were gone and his sheets were ruined with your juices. hated the fact that he was a bad husband, and even worse, that he knew he'd do it all over again.

dick grayson aka nightwing ☆

you assumed he only did it to blow off steam. he'd pull you into a room after a mission, still amped up with adrenaline. you never really fucked outside of this, almost always the same. he'd find you, chest heaving with that look in his eyes.

at first you just thought his little girlfriend wasn't satisfying him enough, and you were fine with that. he'd eat your poor pussy like a starved man, and you were more than welcome to serve it to him. "s-shit- right there, grayson,"

if you had worried about getting caught earlier, that certainly was the last thing on your mind now. he gently spread open your pussy lips with his thumbs, fucking into you with his tongue. you heard talk about him, knew that he was well known for being a player, and an even better fuck. dick hummed low sending vibrations straight to your core, tongue alternating between lapping at your clit and teasing your fluttering cunt.

"Oh, fuck-" you put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. he wasn't exactly subtle, you didn't know if he was even trying to hide the fact that he was sleeping with you. anyone of the other heroes could easily hear you, including his girlfriend. you talked to her almost regularly, she was even fucking nice to you. if only she saw you now..

you start moving your hips, grinding your face against his mouth, head falling back in ecstasy. his groans only entice you even more, holding onto his wet hair to keep him in place. dick's gloved fingers ease their way into your slick cunt, two at the same time, slow and arched upwards to push at that sensitive spot deep inside you.

you don't need to let him know when you're about to cum. your hips begin to falter, legs starting to shake from your gradually building orgasm. all the signs to let him know to flick his tongue just a bit faster, push it against your clit a bit harder. your pussy clamps down on his fingers and he holds them in place inside you, gently grinding the tips of his fingers to brush up against your g-spot.

"so beautiful, baby.." he'd compliment, licking your pussy juices off his fingers, that devious smirk on his face. everytime you're telling yourself it's the last. the both of you already know it's not.

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x reader #smut #batman #bruce wayne #nightwing #dick grayson

[ametrictonofaudacity]

Bonds

Yandere Platonic Batfam x Trans Masc Autistic Reader

Hello! A bit of an authors note. This particular series will be dealing with transphobia, all of which stems from personal experience. Be advised when reading!

Warning: This is a yandere work, and as such, has themes of obsession , violence, stalking, conditioning and manipulation. Trigger warning for this particular one include the above warnings. They’re all pretty mild tbh.

Looking back on it, you knew there was nothing you could have done. That Dad Bruce had planned and pre-planned every meeting since your first interaction to draw you in, to learn more, before he had finally just taken you to the Manor. That there was absolutely nothing you could of done to outsmart the World’s Greatest Detective, who had become inexplicably obsessed with you, alongside all of his kids.

That didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t get rid of the guilt, or the frustration, or the fact you had been so close to doing what you wanted to do with your life. It didn’t help the ugly knot in your chest that would well up, tight and complex and full of emotion, and it didn’t help the bitter rage that would sit heavy in your belly some days.

You sigh, gently scratching behind Titus’ ear, and his tail thumps against the hardwood as he wiggles closer, nose snuffling for any treats. Finding none, he continues to preen under your petting and you laugh, pressing a kiss to his forehead with a smile.

“I had wondered where Titus had gone.” Damian comments, sitting next to you. Out of all of your “siblings”, Damian never really.. set of that anger in your chest. He was younger than you, still a child, and even though it sucked it made sense that he would follow in the behaviors others had set out for him. It made you sad, sometimes, but not angry.

“Me and him are just chilling. Isn’t that right, Titus?” He woofs softly at the sound of his name, and you laugh, scratching behind his ear again.

“You are going to spoil him, one of these days. I hope you know that.” Damian scolds, like he had a leg to stand on. You had seen him sneak the dog treats and snacks every now and then, something you were all explicitly banned from doing to prevent the dog from trying to get into the trash or on the countertops. “Are you watching Star Wars again?”

He sounded far too judgmental for your tastes, and you frown, reaching for the remote.

“I didn’t say to change it. Todd had simple remarked the other day that you watched it often.” He interjects, and you feel your shoulders unwind. You were.. defensive, of your interests, and it always upset you when someone mocked you for having them, no matter how much you wished it didn’t.

“Jason hardly knows how to mind his business half the time.” You grumble, then stretch. Damian slots into the seat beside you like he had been planning to all along, and you sigh tiredly. Despite the fact that you heavily suspected Damian was touch-starved to all hell, he would never outright ask for a hug, or go for one, instead slotting himself into a position where it would be very easy for you to hug or cuddle him.

Sometimes, it made you too sad not to. This time was one of those times.

You wrap an arm around your little brother Damian, letting him decide whether or not he actually wanted the affection. He sinks into your side easily, and you shift, eyes fixated on the screen.

You try not to wonder how much of his hesitance came from genuine trauma and how much came from the careful calculation he inherited from his father. It would only upset you.

You watch as the characters on the screen argue, the lines familiar enough that you mouth along, and the sky darkens outside, time passing in that strange, crawling way it did when you were totally relaxed and falling asleep. Part of you is glad Damian sought you out, the soft sounds of his breathing lulling you to sleep. Your eyes droop, and you sigh, letting your head fall back against the cushions.

“Awww.” The sound of a quiet coo makes you nearly jump up, arms tightening around Damian, and you only stiffen further when you see Dick leaning against the door, a broad grin on his features. He watches the two of you, Damian, who was no doubt awake, and yourself, and his eyes are sharp and piercing enough that your stomach turns.

“No one told me you’d come out of your room, baby bat.” He huffs, and moves toward you both on silent feet.

“Perhaps they simply wanted to spend time alone, Grayson.” Damian sniffs, but does nothing to prevent Dick from clambering onto the couch, wrapping an arm around you and Damian both. Despite not being even close to the youngest, Dick always treated you as a younger sibling, something that drove you insane and made rage bubble up whenever you thought of it too much.

“Nah. They’ll typically sneak off to the library if they want time alone.” He wasn’t wrong, per se, but the flippant way he says it makes you send him a tired glare. “What’re you watching?”

“Star Wars. The fifth one.”

“That’s the one with the Vader reveal, right? When he’s like “I am your father” and all that?” He questions, and you send him a tired glare.

“You’re older than me, how are you not more familiar with Star Wars.” You complain, and he laughs, settling further into the seat next to you. There was no escaping it now, unfortunately. You were stuck in the cuddle pile until he either let you go, the movie ended, or Alfred came to your rescue. Given that there was nearly an hour of movie left, you really hoped the third option would happen.

“Hey! I spent most of my childhood running around fighting crime, you don’t really get super into sci-fi after meeting actual aliens!” He defends, grinning.

“I feel like that would only increase the interest more, but okay.” You snort, and he laughs.

For the most part, the three of you are silent. Dick has a running commentary throughout the movie that you ignore, only pausing to correct him when he is simply just outright wrong, and Damian doesn’t say anything at all except to remark on how stupid the two of you were.

Then the scene on Cloud City comes on. The reveal.

It makes you.. uncomfortable, seeing how desperate Luke is to get away. It makes something tighten in your chest as you watch the screen, and Dick must realize because his eyes cut to you and suddenly the remote is in his hands, turning off the show.

“Not in the mood for all the dramatics.” He lies with an easy grin, even though you know that the reason he changed it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with you. “Let’s just sit and watch this, yeah?”

You weren’t even sure what show he had put on, and so you shake your head, pushing yourself up.

A strong arm pushes you back. Your heart starts hammering in your throat, an awful mix of anxiety and something else, and you glance over at Dick, trying not to think about the way Damian had eased back with a frown and how your fingers were wrapped tightly around Dick’s arm in alarm.

“Dick. Let me up, I have to use the restroom.” You lie, even as you hear your heartbeat thundering away in your ears. Dick was in a mood today, and you had no clue why or who had put him in that mood. Either way, it had your stomach churning and the hair on the back of your neck standing up.

“Yeah, no problem.” He lets you go easily, at that, and you slip away, trying to make it look like you weren’t running.

The door to your room shuts quietly behind you. The hinges are well-oiled and silent, another precaution they had taken when they had moved you in, so that you couldn’t hear them coming and going. For once, you’re grateful for their never ending paranoia. Now that you had picked up their silent hair, it made it easier for you to slip in and out of your room without detection.

You curl up on the bedspread, not bothering to go under the covers. You felt.. unwell. Hurt and angry and anxious. You felt confused and upset and a million other emotions you couldn’t name.

You had been bickering with Dick before the scene. Acting like siblings, behaving like a family. It was a harsh dose of reality in that no matter how much you cling to your anger, they were steadily working their way into your life, casting you in a role you had never wanted to play.

Or, actually, you had. You had wanted to be a part of their family, but not like this. You had wanted all of it, the loving father, the siblings, the unwavering support. But not at the cost of your freedom.

There’s a soft knock on your door, and you swallow. You hope it’s not Dick, because you didn’t feel like being yelled at and you didn’t feel like being guilt-tripped.

“Come in.” You croak, and the door opens with a whisper of air. Jason or Bruce, maybe? They were always careful to announce their presence when they were upset, although Cass also showed that same level of care when she comforted you.

The bed dips under their weight, and your body slides toward them, even when you don’t turn your head. Not Cass, she was too light. Bruce or Jason, then.

“Dick said you got upset, earlier.” A warm hand buries itself in your hair gently, and your lip trembles, even though you refuse to look at your Dad Bruce. He doesn’t demand that you do, thankfully. “Wanna tell me what you set you off?”

“What do you think?” You snap, teeth bared at nothing, and he continues stroking your hair, gently detangling the strands the best he can.

“I won’t know unless you tell me.” He comments neutrally, and you know that he’s playing you for a fool and it makes you so mad that you push yourself up, twisting around to face him.

“Really?! What have all of our conflicts been about so far, Bruce?” Your shoulders are hiked up. Angry. Defensive. You know you’re mad and you don’t care.

“(Y/N), I know you don’t understand just yet but it was for the best-“

“For you!! I didn’t get a choice, you didn’t give me a choice, and that’s the worst part!!” You shriek, and the bubbling anger that had been locked up and hidden away is finally escaping, in hot tears running down your face and your enraged shrieking. “I never had a choice! I just wanted- I wanted-!”

Sobs tear themselves from your throat, ugly and raw, and when his hand lands on your shoulder you shrug it off, pushing yourself away from him to stand on your own to feet.

The worst part is expression. Guilt and sympathy and sadness make an awful combination, and you grip the desk, rage pulsing in your veins. How dare he be sad when he did this. How dare he be sad when you were the one who had been ripped from your life.

“You wanted someone to take care of you, (Y/N). You needed help.” He says slowly, standing up. His posture is open, gentle, a non-threat. You aren’t fooled, and shuffle back.

“I had it under control! I was fine!” You snarl back, and he shakes his head, his face gentle.

“You didn’t. You weren’t sleeping, barely eating, you were constantly stressed because of your family… that’s not under control. It’s unhealthy.”

“And this is?! Ripping someone from their home, their family, because what-?! You wanted to? You’re awful! You’re selfish! I want to go home, take me home, let me go-!”

Warm arms wrap around you, pressing you into a broad chest, and you shriek against the fabric, trying your best to thrash. Despite being entirely human, his arms are like warm steel around you, unmoving, and eventually, your struggles cease, and you go still.

“I know what I did was selfish. I know it was cruel, (Y/N). But I just… I couldn’t bear losing another son. Your siblings, they can defend themselves. They have the training, the skills. But you were a civilian, struggling to stay alive and get through school, and I could only do so much to help you.”

His voice is thick, and you refuse to look up at him. He had the annoying habit of being painfully genuine when he knew it would rip your heart out.

He leans back, and begins to gently wipe your face, brushing the tears of your cheeks. Despite the screaming, he don’t look angry, but there’s a heavy, awful sorrow in his shoulders that makes you want to cry. Which makes more angry tears spill down your cheeks because how dare he make you feel guilty for upsetting him.

“I can’t lose another son.” He admits, voice cracking, and you swallow. Hearing him call you his son was.. it was a mixed bag. Old hurts and new ones creating something new. “And I knew, if I let it continue on, something terrible would have happened.”

“You could have asked me.” You croak, and he shakes his head.

“You wouldn’t have said yes. You had put everyone’s needs above your own, you would’ve self-destructed if I had left you there.”

The worst part was, he was right. You had been feeling so small and trapped that even if he had offered, you wouldn’t have accepted. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

“I know this isn’t fair. But you’ll get through this. And we’ll help you, every step of the way.” A gentle kiss to your forehead, as he smoothed back your hair, and he smiles down at you.

“Dinner is going to be in thirty minutes. Would you like to join me downstairs or stay up here until then?”

Your mouth is dry. Your face is red and teary and upset. Your eyes are puffy from crying.

You don’t want to be alone, either.

“I’ll come downstairs.” You whisper, and he smiles, kneeling to grab your weighted blanket. When you both sit on the couch, he ticks it around your shoulder, sits next to you, and puts on some show or another you don’t recognize.

He is warm and solid against you, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted.

#yandere dc #yandere platonic x reader #yandere x reader #yandere platonic batfam #platonic yandere x reader #yandere batman #yandere dick Grayson

[kirbyskisses]

jason todd x black!reader drabble

a gift i wrote for my bestie @gatlily. just some fluff because i had wash day yesterday. light use of aave (reader) and spanglish (latino!jason), mentions of jason’s rough upbringing.

wc: 760

you learn something new when jason offers to help with your hair.

-

when jason easily slicks styling cream through your bountiful curls of hair, his fingers work easily as if he was your mom or auntie or grandmother.

you admit to being hesitant to having him help you during wash day, but he remains remarkably – almost uncharacteristically – calm and gentle, taking in the smell of shea butter and coconut.

“how did you learn this?” you pipe up, genuinely curious. “i didn’t think bruce wayne or alfred would teach natural hair care as robin training.”

you tease and he shifts the hair tie he was holding between his lips, spinning it around another bundle of hair before answering you with a smirk.

“i wasn’t always robin, doll.” he lies back for a break, hands flexing so as not to cramp from the work of detangling thick coils and you too relax. you had been sat on the floor, cradled by a pillow between his legs, as if you were a little girl again. now, you scoot yourself up onto the couch beside him and rest the finished part of your hair against his shoulder with a sigh of content.

his arm snakes around and pulls you onto his lap. a life of hardship gave jason an almost unending hunger for touch; hunger which your soft body is always more than able to satiate. he hums with a hazy nostalgic look in his eyes as he cranes his head back to gaze at the ceiling.

“bruce found me on the street. before that i was in and out of juvy and group homes, y’know?” he clicks his tongue and your eyes soften. for a while it was rare for jason to talk about his past with bruce; talking about anything before that was downright mythological. you savored the sense of trust that came anytime he spoke to you about it.

“lots of kids had afros - and we had to help each other because there wasn’t nobody else around so i learned to twist and braid and loc it up….all that. and they’d share food or somethin’ to pay me back, ya tú sabes.” he stretches again. “plus i’d watch when the barbershops let me sweep up or break boxes - anything to get enough cash to get a meal.”

your response is just a simple “oh.” you’re happy that your boyfriend has a touching and useful skill set. but you’re nonetheless concerned and a little sad that it came from such a rough childhood experience.

jason seems unfazed but his forest-green eyes flicker back to you, picking up on your conflicted feelings.

“mamacita.~” he sings out, muscular arms wrapping around your shorter form and rocking you back and forth as if you weigh nothing.

jason lets out a pithy chuckle and sets you back off of his lap - standing and caging you against the couch with a playful expression.

“i darkened the mood, huh? can i get a smile? dame un sonrisa, gatita.” his grin widens, nose touching yours. you can only bite back a grin for so long before a laugh breaks through when his oiled hands move to tickle your sides.

“there it is!” he exclaim and your hands lightly try to push him away; it doesn’t work, of course, as the man is built like a tank. then, your hand strokes the white curls that stain his otherwise black hair and you chide.

“you mad goofy, jay.” there’s just a moment of happy silence before your smile turns down a bit. “i just get sad, knowing that you’ve been through all’at.”

jason takes a deep breath and straightens, one hand alone cupping most of your pretty face.

“morena. we’ve been over this. all that pain and bullshit got me to you. and you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. don’t feel any type of way about that, ¿me oyes?”

he feels your hesitance, shifting your chin back to his gaze before your eyes drift away; conveyance that he really isn’t playing around.

“hey. ya heard me?”

you nod softly, falling in love with him just a little bit more. “yeah. yeah, i gotchu.”

he smiles and slots his lips to yours softly, thumb stroking your cheek with each kiss before he breaks away to stand up.

“alright then. let’s get this lovely hair of yours all together. make my girl even more beautiful… not that i think that’s possible.” he winks down at you, faking a yelp when you chuck a pillow at him.

“you type corny, jason todd!”

“yeah and you love me for it, princesa.”

#latino jason todd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #red hood #requests #x reader #x black!reader #x black reader #x fem!reader #fluff

[makethatelevenrings]

For Your Eyes Only // B. Wayne x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

Warnings: mention of fear toxin

Summary: Bruce Wayne has enough money to buy anything. That makes gift giving extremely difficult. Until you come up with an idea.

The idea sprang to your mind like Athena from Zeus. It had been a hard night with numerous Rogues breaking out of Arkham and a newer, more potent fear gas strain being dispersed in the city. Tim’s rebreather had been broken, so Bruce gave him the one on his belt.

You had spent eight hours curled up in the cold metal chair next to the medical bay cot, your hand tightly clasped in his as he sweat out the toxin. You couldn’t banish the fears he was seeing from his mind, but you could be with him, holding his hand and kissing his brow. The kids periodically came in with snacks and water and blankets, but they only stayed for a few minutes before disappearing once again. You knew they felt guilty for letting Bruce take the brunt of the toxin, but you also knew that your boyfriend wouldn’t want his kids to feel that way. Once Bruce was up and moving, you would turn your attention on making sure the batlings and birds didn’t let the guilt eat them alive, especially Tim.

It was during hour seven when his shivering began to subside and his stare was less vapid and more focused that the idea came to you. Christmas wasn’t for another few months but, hey, you had a lot of people to shop for so might as well get started now.

But you didn’t want to buy anything for Bruce. Hell, there was nothing to buy. He was the richest man in Gotham and could easily purchase whatever he wanted, from a Porsche to a penthouse. When you first started dating, you teased him endlessly about dating someone from “the lower class” despite his constant eyerolls. Jason and Steph found it hilarious, however, and so you would keep up the jokes as long as you had two allies on your side.

This idea…it was special. It was sentimental. By god, it was sappy.

You really hoped that your emotionally constipated boyfriend appreciated it.

Christmas morning came and went. The kids were showered with gifts, of course, ranging in weaponry to books to new pencils and everything in between. You sat nestled next to Bruce on one of the couches, warm and content as the light and heat of the fireplace washed over you. A mug of coffee sat nestled in your hands and a blanket was tucked around your legs, courtesy of the worrywart of a man next to you.

“I’d like to give you my gift later. When we’re alone,” you murmured to him. His eyebrow lifted, curiosity staining his usually impassive face and you smacked his chest.

“Not like that.” Your scowl was met with a soft grin and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you settled back against his chest to watch the kids descend on their wrapped gifts.

Around noon, you slipped out of the living room where the kids were spread out watching Die Hard. You waited for a moment when strong hands curled around your hips and a chin settled on your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” you chuckled.

“Merry Christmas, darling.” You pulled him upstairs with you to your shared bedroom and pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bed so you could dash to the walk-in closet and rummage through your shoes.

“I know you could have easily found these, but it’s the principle of the matter,” you declared as you emerged from the closet. An old shoebox sat in your hands and you extended it to him, suddenly shy at the thought of him opening this gift. Once he took it from your grasp, you stepped away and wrung your hands together as he opened it.

Bruce was silent for a moment and you regretted everything. This was stupid. It had been a stupid idea and you should have just gone out and bought him new cufflinks or somethi-

He tugged you closer to him and rested his forehead against your stomach, his eyes still locked on the pile of letters in the box. Each letter was labeled on the outside with a small message.

“Open me when you’re at the Watchtower,” one read.

“Open me if I’m not home for the night,” another said.

“Open me when the darkness is too much.”

Letter upon letter crowded the small box, each handwritten with an outpouring of emotion. You wrote encouragement, love, and occasional derision when you knew he would have his head up his ass. Bruce was a reserved man and he didn’t take genuine compliments well.

Having a chance to read these in private and receive your love outside of verbal words?

“Thank you, darling,” he breathed as he tugged you down to sit in his lap. You nestled your head against the crook of his neck and played with a loose strand on the sleeve of his cashmere sweater.

“And when you’ve read them all, I’ll always have more words waiting for you here.”

His lips pressed against the crown of your head as he ran his fingers over the rough paper beneath his fingers. No words needed to be said. You both understood the love that you felt. It was all written out on paper.

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @alexxavicry​ @havingarebelliousstage​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @cursedandromedablack​ 

#bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne fluff #batman imagine #batman x reader #batman fluff

[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter Three: Memories Embarked

Heiress of Gotham

Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: Runaway plan going sideways, will a visit home profit, or encourage further mourning? Revelations, keepsakes, suspicions, and more are brought back when you finally return.

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Grief, Guns, Insults, Exclusion, Embarrassment, Crying,

Mentions of: Drugs, Sex, Crime, Yelling, Domestic Violence, Robbery, Secrets, Poverty, Unbelonging, Funeral Arrangements

Bruce hadn't been keen on revealing details about the girl's mother. Sure, he let them know there was nothing mysterious about her death, but that's about it. From her words at dinner, Jason could tell she didn't grow up wealthy by any means, but he wasn't expecting this. Sure, it's not as bad as Crime Alley, but it's definitely not the kind of place he'd want to raise a kid. Let alone a place he could imagine someone growing up in.

Following her up the flights of stairs to the sixth floor, he's surprised when she whips out the key from her jacket's pocket like she'd been planning on this. He guesses she had. Still, part of him anticipated the teenager having forgotten the key and having to wind up kicking the door in.

"Just in here," you announce, pushing the key into its keyhole.

Climbing the last few stairs, Jason notices how your body language appears much more relaxed than at the table in the Manor, earlier. It's somewhat hard to ignore the sound of people fucking you'd passed on the fourth floor, then there's the yelling, the loud televisions, the smell of weed, and the sirens down the street. Yet, you seem entirely unfazed.

He watches as you enter, slipping off your Converse at the door. He follows suit, unlacing his boots and stepping out of them to be respectful. With a swift hand, he closes and locks the door behind you two. Backpack tossed onto the couch, he watches as you go over and turn the television off. Why was it even on? Hadn't your mother died? Was someone in here? Were you expecting someone? The casual nature in your behavior is eerie, nonetheless, he traces along the walls of the room, taking in everything.

"It's so people think we're home," you reveal, "the tv. You looked confused." With quick feet, you head down the hallway. It's curious that you come back with a bowl, however, he easily puts two and two together as he spots little fish painted around the circumference of it. You walk into the kitchen, nonchalantly tossing the bowl onto the counter before opening the fridge. The light within illuminates your face and it's only a matter of seconds before you're placing some sort of leftovers from a white styrofoam container into the bowl and heading back down the hallway. When you don't come back, he follows where you'd gone.

"I know that this will be hard, but it's for the best! Plus, I know Mrs. Garcia won't be missing you more than me," you whisper, upper body leaning out onto the fire escape's landing. Eyes trailing past you, he finds a fluffy white cat just outside, happily purring and eating whatever it was you'd laid before him. Without turning to look, you speak up, voice no longer holding the soft and sweet sentiment it just held for the animal. "It's our upstairs neighbor's cat. She doesn't really take the best care of him, so I feed him sometimes." With a last sentiment spared toward the feline, you close the window and lock it. Good, hopefully, the others are already locked, he thinks.

"So you can't keep him. That's too bad," Jason remarks, false sympathy in his voice as he eyes the knick-knacks on your dresser. At least, he assumes, considering the very colorful nature of the room and the stuffed animals on the bed. "Damian is a sucker when it comes to animals. Would've been a good way to bond with him," he teases.

"This is my room. I'll just be a minute! I need to check a few things and… then we can go." You started confident, but he could tell that this was painful for you. The thought of leaving again. Eyes unmoving from his, he watches as you shyly tuck a strand of your bangs behind your ear before he nods and starts to let himself back out into the hall. Hand catching on the door, he holds onto it as he decides to ask, rather than rummage through the entire apartment.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" This time it's you who's surprised as he observes the way you give him a strange look.

"Um… yeah, why, do you need it?" Despite the question, you're already moving toward him, then around and past as you make your way back to the kitchen. Up within a cabinet, Jason watches as you struggle to reach it on your tiptoes. While he's not that close with you and knows some people prefer doing things themself, he doesn't like to watch people struggle. Just as he closes the steps between you to grab it, you let out a proud exclamation and gently cradle it on the descent. "Did you cut yourself or something?"

"Actually no, but I noticed you did. You can't just let it stay like that," he argues. The look on your face sends him racing to beat you to the punch. Before you can protest, he adds, "If anything I'm not letting you leave here without patching that up. I'm not getting more blood and who knows what else on my shirt or jacket." He doesn't miss the glare you shoot him, but he doesn't acknowledge it either.

Sliding the kit out from under your hand on the counter, he opens it to retrieve a bandage and some antibiotic ointment. With a gesture of his head, you turn your palm face up to reveal a few scrapes, some having elicited blood though it all looks dried by now, and a few tiny splinters lodged into the skin. He'd ask you to take them out, but you're already on top of it, preparing your hand as he unscrews the cap on the ointment. Within a minute, you're all patched up, no argument, no complaints; an easy job, really.

"I'll stay in here, I guess. Get your stuff and then we're outta here, alright?" Jason suggests. You seem content enough with this as you nod in his direction before heading back toward your room.

Essentials. Essentials… what even are essentials? Hastily grabbing your bag of hair ties, your hair brush, deodorant, and some of your more important clothing items: bras, panties, and sleeping shirts, you toss them into your bag. With those out of the way, really, what else should you bring? Immediately your eyes are drawn to the shelf of books, movies, and other collections of items within. Crouching before it, you grab your photo album. You can't forget your favorite bear, the one your aunt had gifted you when you were born. With his head sticking out of the bag as he won't fit any further into it, you decide that apart from one final task, all that's left is the other two rooms: your mother's and the bathroom.

Emptying your piggy bank into your backpack, you pull the door open and head into her room. Luckily, Jason seems occupied snooping through the living room. With an unnecessary urgency, you pull the mattress away from the headboard and round the bed. You crawl up to the pillows, tossing them aside before you lift the corner of the bedsheet. It looks untouched, but that doesn't mean it wasn't. There's a six-inch cut in the mattress; it's easy to miss if you're not looking, but you've known about it since you were eight and caught your mom stashing her last paycheck's worth of money inside. With searching hands you feel around inside. One stack after another is produced from the hiding spot. Altogether, there are stacks of at least, if you had to guess… maybe fifteen, sixteen bundles of hundreds on the bed.

Upon hurriedly transferring the cash from your mother's room into your backpack you'd stupidly left in your room, you're met with Jason's form at the end of the hallway on the last trip. Stacks of hundreds cradled in your arm, your eyes widen. "Where'd you-"

"It's not what it looks like!" You defend. He calls your name in a stern tone, yet you only offer him a Cheshire smile and evade him into your room, placing the last of the bundles inside. "They're mine! Okay? My mom's."

"But h-"

"-She-we don't really trust the banks, okay? Let's keep it at that." Unwilling to part with it, you sling the almost-closed backpack onto one shoulder before walking toward the door. He blocks it.

"I just have to get a few more things and I'm ready, alright?" The hopefulness in your voice does nothing to wipe the disconcerted look from his face.

"I can't just not tell Bruce about this, kid," he warns, a look you can only guess is akin to disappointment on his face. Slipping under his arm and out the door into the hallway, you head back to her room.

"That's fine! But it's still my money. It's everything she ever worked for, and I'm not giving it to him." Upon reentering your mother's room, you stop in the doorway. Sure, the mattress and pillows are askew from your manhandling, but something feels off. Eyes darting to her desk, the top drawer is open, along with some of the side drawers not fully closed. Dresser drawers halfway open with some sock couplings on the floor, it's clear. "Someone's been here," you whisper. Heart jumping in your chest at Jason's proximity, standing just behind you, your hand holds your chest.

"You mean before we got here? How do you know?" He asks. Eyes taking in the space, Jason puts on his detective hat. It's certainly messy, but he'd also just seen you come from this room. Either you're trying to pull something right now, or… he's not sure, yet, but he'll figure it out. He'll figure you out.

"I just know! She never leaves her room like this, and-" pushing at his chest when he doesn't move, you poke your head back in the hallway before ducking under his arm again and running to the dresser. Stashing your mother's jewelry box and perfume into your backpack, you turn and are about to head out of the room when you spot something. A framed photo on her desk of the two of you: it'd been a photo from your trip to Gotham. It was a Christmas present you'd gifted her that year since you didn't really have any photos up of the two of you in your house.

Frame in hand, you stare lovingly at the photo for a moment before a look of determination crosses your features again. Stuffing it in your backpack, you squeeze past Jason into the hallway. Your baby pictures, junior-high graduation photos, and other mementos hung on the wall are mostly untouched, yet at least two photos are askew on the wall. In the hallway bathroom, there's only your makeup bag and skincare that you can take. There are already bathing supplies at the Manor. "If you've ever met a Latina Mom, you'd know that she doesn't keep our house like this! Everything is square and perfect, put away. The only thing that was messy when I left was the kitchen and that was because of breakfast," you inform him. Unloading the backpack from your shoulder onto the couch, you properly zip it up before slugging it over your back again. "I'm ready." If someone really had been here, it's best not to stick around if they decide to come back.

------

While Jason had texted Bruce informing him of your whereabouts upon arrival, he couldn't bring himself to text anything else before the both of you arrived back at the Manor. You'd thanked the man you suppose is your older brother, before departing upstairs with Alfred. And while Bruce had made a move to talk to you, your dismissal was evident in your preference to the contrary. "We need to talk," Jason announces.

"Do you still have it?" Bruce asks, a look of concern upon his features. While both Jon and Clark had gone home soon after your departure, and both Timothy and Stephanie had gone out on patrol, Bruce kept Dick and Damian back. In the event they're all needed, they'll be there, but he'd wanted to have someone around while awaiting your return. Maybe he just didn't want to be alone right now, but he won't admit to that.

"Of course. I wasn't letting her keep that! God knows teenagers don't need guns," Jason grumbles. Reaching around himself, he lifts his shirt to dig the gun out of the back of his waistband.

"Hey! Speak for yourself. I can handle a gun," Damian argues, arms crossing his chest as he stands his ground. "I've been doing target practice since I was two."

"Anyway, she had… at least half a dozen in her arms when I caught her, but who knows how much she really has in her bag! She wouldn't let me touch it."

"So we're talking thousands, then?" Dick asks, hands in his pockets as he leans against the railing in the Batcave. "Shit," he whispers to himself. Hair falling into his face as he looks down at his shoes still processing all of this, his lips screwing in thought.

"At least! And that's not to mention that she insisted someone had 'visited' before us. I checked the locks, and, everything was sound. It was a mess, but, if anyone broke in, it had to be someone with a key. It didn't seem like anything had been taken," Jason expands.

"So what're we thinking? She was dealing?" Dick asks with a thoughtful expression on his features. He finally raises his gaze to meet the group's eyes.

"She has to know something," Damian accuses. Crossing his arms over his chest, the boy's eyebrows are set as he looks more than perturbed by all the information. He'd had a bad feeling about her from the get-go, but this is far beyond anything he had in mind. At least, aside from the really fantastical theories he'd concocted.

"There's no record of criminal history. I'll have to see if this is even registered, and if it's to her mother. I'll look into it," Bruce informs, taking the gun into his possession before walking over to the computer. "Until we find anything, we have to assume that it was a fluke. There was nothing unordinary about this, and I already told you that I don't want anyone digging into this!"

"Bruce, I-" Jason speaks up, a sympathetic feeling in his chest. He can only imagine how this situation has been affecting him. An unknown child suddenly dropped in his hands at the death of a previous lover? And now said child is showing distaste for you? Rough.

"What did I say, Jason?" Bruce barks.

"I only thought you'd want to know! I didn't do any digging, and I'm not going to. Got it? All I did was take a crying girl home, and help her grab some of the things she needs! God knows you wouldn't do it. Besides, she has a lot more that should be moved either into-"

"-storage or here. I know. I'm dealing with it! I told you I've got this covered. If you don't remember, I've been around this ballpark once or twice," Bruce chastizes. Placing the gun under a mirrored device, a red beam shoots out and scans the weapon. Blue eyes stuck to the computers, he reads over whatever report the device is producing.

With a huff of annoyance, Jason swipes his helmet off the nearby metal table and angrily slides it on. Walking away, he only turns back to leave them with one last note: "And for the record, I like her. She's a feisty little thing. Has got a lot more spunk than some of the others around here," he teases, eyes glaring at the two brothers still standing by the ledge murmuring to one another conspiratorily.

"So what's our plan?" Dick asks, ignoring the insults as he turns along with Damian to speak with Bruce.

All the money set up in nice little stacks against the wall underneath and toward the top of your bed, you'd placed your piggy bank on your dresser along with the photo of you and your Mom. Bear propped up to sit against the pillow you don't use, it elicits a faint smile. Jewelry box and perfume add a touch of femininity, and the rest of your items were put into your private bathroom. It's still hard to believe you have one, always having wanted one. It's not until you change into pajamas that you lie on the bed and unlock your phone, hoping to respond to some of the messages you've gotten in the past twenty-four hours.

Of course, your best friend Daisha is worried. Informing her of the situation, it doesn't take long to get back an astonished response. Granted, you'd been the same way yesterday, too. She asks what Wayne Manor is like, and how things are going. Soon, she realizes through text that you really only want to talk about the cool new things in the Manor, so you both revel over all the fancy features you've only found through exploration today. Who knows what else is in store? There's way too much to explore in just one day, and really, you hadn't done much exploring considering you had school and then cried almost all afternoon.

It's only when Daisha's gone to bed and you've been scrolling through memes for far longer than you should have that there are three knocks on your bedroom door. "Come in," you call, expecting Alfred to come in and tell you that you should be sleeping at this hour instead of being awake. He seems like the type to do so. After getting back, he'd informed you of everyone's worry and concern for you, only wanting the best. You'd talked for a while, but overall he eventually dismissed himself with the excuse of more work to be done tonight.

When the door slowly opens, you find it's Bruce juggling two teacups, and a dog at his heels. You know who it is after this afternoon. "Oh! No. Ace, stay out here," he asserts with a wobbly voice as his eyes stay glued to the unsteady teacups.

"It's okay," you assure. At this information, the door swings open wider and the dog pads over to you. Sitting by the edge of your bed, you reach out to pet him. "Hi Ace," you greet, hand brushing over his soft and short fur. "Did you come to check up on me?" You whisper to him with a gentleness that you're sure anyone observing would be baffled by considering he looks intimidating and scary.

"I wanted to talk, and before you say 'no' or tell me to 'get out', just know it's not to argue. I came to apologize," Bruce explains, seating himself at the edge of your bed a few feet from where you sit cross-legged. When you don't say anything, a sigh escapes him, and he holds out one teacup. "I thought you might like some tea before bed."

"How did you know I was awake? Or that I like tea?" You question, eyes shifting from his down to the fancy porcelain cup filled with a yellowish liquid. Taking it into your hands, you let yourself hold onto it, the comforting warmth seeping through the cup and into your palms.

"What happened?" Bruce immediately asks, concern evident in his voice as he notices your palm. "I saw the light from under the door and figured… plus who doesn't like a little chamomile before bed?" He attempts a smile, which you return with an inkling of one. At least he's not yelling at you for your outburst, you figure. "I wasn't sure how you take it, so I didn't put anything in it." It's only after a second that you realize he means milk and sugar.

Contemplating if you're really up for whatever you're sure this discussion will entail right now, it's only once you notice Ace walk in a circle before curling up and lying down that you concede. "I… fell and scraped my hand," you reveal. It's not entirely a lie, you just didn't mention the tree involved. "I just…" you're unsure how to explain why you did it, what came over you, "I'm sorry." His blue eyes stare back at you with a look you're unable to place. Suddenly, he's placing his teacup, then yours, onto the nightstand and enveloping you in a hug.

"You don't have to apologize." His voice rumbles deep in his chest and while you're taken aback at first, he doesn't let up. "I'm just glad you're okay," he says your name with a care that you hadn't realized was there before. Though the strength of his hug partially has you feeling like you'll die of asphyxiation, you bear it. It happens automatically, and despite your best efforts to keep it at bay, the tears come. "I should've talked to you sooner. I realize this is all a big change and I didn't even stop to think about how you'd feel in all this." While he talks you think he finally notices your shaking shoulders as his voice eventually dies down and he retracts from the hug. "I didn't mean to make you cry. I should've asked if you were okay with a hug, I just-"

"It's okay," you respond, voice coming out quieter than you'd anticipated, a shakiness you can't cloak within it. "I just… I didn't get to bring anything, and I didn't feel at home, and…" As your voice fades with your thoughts, he speaks up.

"-I know, and you deserve your things. Whatever you want. Whatever you need, we'll get. We can get some movers to help us get your things from the apartment if you want, either tomorrow or by the end of this week."

"I'm just embarrassed because I didn't mean to make a scene! I… no one deserved that, and-"

"-yes they did." His chuckle surprises you and leaves you taken aback as you stare up at him with incredulity. "I mean, maybe not the viciousness about the BPD and all, as Dick has been trying his best to be supportive, but him and Damian together? Well… they can be troublemakers, I'll say that much. Damian was being rude to you, it's only fair you express how you feel about it. He'll only listen that way, unfortunately. It's something we're working on."

"You're not mad at me?" You whisper, suddenly feeling like the little girl with pigtails in a dress your Mom picked out, crying and praying that you won't get a worse punishment for admitting your fault rather than playing dumb.

"Mad? No. Just… upset with myself, and disappointed that you didn't feel like you could've come to me sooner, and perhaps in a more private setting." The look on your face must say something, considering he continues. "Look, you're not the first kid to curse me out in front of everyone, and I'm sure you won't be the last. Okay? As long as you're okay and you feel welcome and at home here, that's all I care about. Alright?" A big hand on your shoulder, he stares into your eyes with a tacit question. When it seems he's got the answer he's looking for, his shoulders sag a bit and he seems to breathe a little more easily. "What did you even bring back? Can I see?"

Before you can respond, you find his eyes have landed on the photo album you left on the bed in front of your teddy bear. You'd wanted to look at it before going to bed, and it seems now is the best excuse to. "It's my photo album. I know my Mom has more, but, she gave me a bunch of the photos I liked in hers and let me make my own. Do… you want to look at it?" You ask tentatively. He nods, and you grab the album, shifting and taking it into your lap as you move the teddy bear into the middle of the pillows. With a pat beside you where both the album and teddy had been, he scoots backward further onto the bed until he's where you'd patted.

"I know that I haven't been a part of your life, and I know that it was your Mom's decision… and while none of us expected to wind up here, I hope I can--that you'll allow me--to be a part of your life going forward," again, your name falls from his lips. Leaning back against the plush pillows, you point to the lamp on the other bedside table.

"Could you turn that on?" You ask. Doing as you'd said, the second light helps brighten your little area in the grand room. "You're already a part of my life," you point out with a small smile on your face, "but I hope I can get to know you better. The real Bruce Wayne, not just… playboy billionaire Wayne Enterprises, Gotham's most loved celebrity." A teasing smile sits on your lips as amusement fills your chest. Bringing the album into your lap, you flip open the book.

"I hope so too," he agrees, before chuckling uncomfortably, a nervous hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. "I don't know about that, but… the real me, I can definitely do." As the book opens, his attention suddenly shifts and he's more engaged, curiosity overtaking as he leans in and examines each photo with intent.

An explanation follows every picture you can remember the pretense of, which isn't too many in the beginning where all your baby photos are. Though as the photos become more and more recent you tell stories, finding that he's actually listening and asking questions, trying to get to know more about the little family you had. Eventually, you both retake your teacups and continue to look at the photos which now sit in the album atop the comforter before both of your laps. Backs hunched over, teacups delicately held in one hand, the other cupping the bottom of it, you two unintentionally mirror the other. The resemblance to an outsider is uncanny, there's no question to Bruce's fatherhood.

Once the album is gone through and you've shown him "Teddy" of course, the beloved bear you'd been gifted at birth. What a unique name, you know… but in your defense you were two when you named him. The Gotham Trip photo's story also told, you simply list the rest of the belongings you'd brought… omitting the cash, of course.

"It's getting late. You should get ready for bed. I decided that you deserve the rest of the week off school. It was too soon to push you into it, and if you're going to help me with the rest of the arrangements then you'll be a bit busy." A surprised, and then excited and appreciative look overtakes your expression, Bruce holding a smile on his lips.

"Thank you! Thank you! You don't know how much this means to me," you cry, hugging him for a moment before sitting back. "I mean… I'm not excited to have to do this… but," your voice takes on a quieter and more serious tone again, "I think it's important I do this. She's my mom, you know?"

"I know," he responds, lips pinched.

"I'll call the school first thing in the morning. But try and get some sleep, please. I know that it'll take some adjusting and getting used to, but I hope you can one day call this home, too," he admits. With another pat on the shoulder, the tall man stands from your bed and pulls the string on the farthest bedside lamp to shut it off. The sound of shuffling by the dresser signals Ace's rise as he trails after the man. "Goodnight."

"Okay, and I will! Goodnight." You're almost half-tempted to say his first name like the others, and while you'd previously been calling him 'Father'... 'Dad' still feels out of bounds for now… so you simply don't say anything.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @safarigirlsp , @moonlightsolo , @jynzandtonic , @ohdamnadam

hog taglist: @luvly-writer , @clairese1980

#my writing #hog #heiress of gotham #heiress of gotham series #dad!bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batfam x reader #batfam x sister!reader #my series #dcu reader insert #batfam reader insert #i love queue #dc comics reader insert #dc comics fanfiction #jason todd x sister!reader

[dairy-farmer]

Another stalker/civilian Au~!

Its an Au where Bruce get thrown into some multi-verse adventure with a few other Batmen, not long into his grief spiral? And between Climactic Battles(tm) they try to tell him to be... less harsh, on his Tim? Because they know he is them. He won't listen if they say Be Nice. He's raging and full of grief.

And he's like? Tim? Timothy Drake. The neighbors child who should be in Morocco, THAT Tim?

Yep. He becomes your next Robin. They ALL tell him. Because *various explanations basicly boiling down too "you publicly lose your shit in grief"*. And? Bruce has time to work through his immediate, VIOLENT denial? While on that adventure?

Comes back having reached a stage of "Absolutely Not. No More Robins." Not because it's TIM, but because he refuses to lose another kid? But ALSO? He's now Hyper Aware of this kid?

That's HIS kid.

He has to PROTECT that kid from trying to become Robin. From trying to join the Caped lifestyle. So he, now that he's no longer risking just destroying just HIMSELF, drags himself together. Painfully, slowly, and with help, but he does it. Is he okay? Not remotely. But he slowly gets functioning again.

Twitchs everytime Tim looks too hard in his direction. Seems too concerned.

He carefully manipulates Tim's school to offer better and better distractions. Opportunities for growth and too entice. Photography, engineering, languages, skating, game creation. Anything.

He monitors Tim too and from school. Stops purse snatching and petty crimes far before Tim ever sees them. Makes SURE there will never be any call to action for his boy. No great tragedy.

Then, of course, the universe (as it tends too) spits on his efforts in mockery. Tim's parent are kidnapped, killed, by a madman. He is orphaned, like Bruce was. Left with too much wealth and few to protect him from those who would take it. It's like looking into a mirror of the past.

He steps up.

His lawyers vicious, the will, a forgery they'll never be able to prove is fake. They KNOW it is. Because they destroyed the original. However, his fake is better then theirs. His lawyers far more bloodthirsty. He sees most of the Drake Industries board in jail by the end of the month.

But... Timothy Drake is not his son. He's his foster child.

One who avoids him.

Who chokes on the secrets he KNOWS, but doesn't know, Bruce knows he knows. Who mourns his parents. Who's trying to hold on to the shreds of his life. Bruce watches him through the Manor cameras and obsesses. So small. So sad. They have both lost so much.

It is almost... perverse, the weight that lifts from Bruce's shoulders, when he drags his weary body back to the cave each night. After brutal patrols and the untold horrors man visits upon man. And he can just? Flip on the cameras. Find Tim. Curled warm and soft, safe and alive, in his bed. Playing some game, later then he should, as young men do. Sneaking a snack.

The living representation of what he's fighting for.

But Dick comes back, raging through and misunderstanding. Thinks Tim is Robin. Lashes out. The shouting echoes. By the time everything is cleared up, Tim has already quietly found himself a boarding school abroad. Dick is devastated. Feels like a monster. Bruce wants to refuse. But whispers of another break out on TOP of League of Assassins agents being spotted lurking around?

He hates it, but agrees.

It's a miserable slog of time after that. Report cards and updates the only highlights. A crime lord that turns out to be his dead son appears. A BIOLOGICAL Son that hounds him to be Robin appears. Eventually Tim returns. Technically, aged out of the foster system.

As though Bruce would ever let go so easily.

He welcomes him home at the airport. His boy, grown into his slender frame and delicate features. Wants to drive him to the Manor but drives him to the upper class apartment Tim has bought himself instead.

Adjusts his patrol routes mentally.

Learns, through his planted cameras, that Tim's schoolmates have been a TERRIBLE influence. Casual nudity, sprawling hedonistic nights of take-out and wine, and most concerning? Mentions of "hook ups" he will be missing, over the phone. Bruce is appalled. How did he MISS this?

Sure, Tim cleans up well. Presents himself as reserved if flirtatious in the boardroom. Is now working to seize control of his birthright. But... but...!

Bruce is conflicted. But can not tear his eyes away, as he reviews the surveillance from the Welcome Home gala he threw for Tim. Was it coincidence? Or intentional. That every "hot young thing", as it were, that Tim pulled into a side room to fuck him throughout the night. Was the civilian identity of a Cape?

Bruce, as he tends to, gets obsessed. Watches as Tim is fucked by hooks and lovers alike. As he pleasures himself in his home, works in his office, commutes to and from work.

Maybe it gets weird. Because of course it does. Maybe Damian volunteers, after noticing his Father's obsession, in hopes of gaining som of that attention for himself. Seduces Drake. Finds they have a lot in common. Fucks him knowing his Father is watching. Realizes he is IN to that. That he enjoys the murmured commands of his Father in his ear, telling him how best to earn his approval.

Maybe it's just Bruce. Who finally shows up as Batman. And they pretend. That Tim doesn't know. That Bruce doesn't know he knows. And Bruce rocks his world.

However it ends? Tim is a kept man. Batmans secret civilian lover. And he gets WEIRD about it~☆

-🐼🐼🐼

it would be just like bruce to get weird over it especially since, whether he realized it or not, he's formed a pretty severe complex over tim 😩😩😩

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim

[dcxdpdabbles]

Hello ❤️

Can you please write something about Jason x Danny? Maybe something about Jason having a crush on this new guy (maybe Danny works in a library or helping people as a nurse) and just falling cause Danny is sincerely nice and isn't afraid of his Lazarus's rage

Jason first notices the new face volunteering at the soup kitchen when the guy hand-makes flour tortillas for the beans. Just like his mom used to make, alongside Mrs. Huerea before she got into drugs.

It's been years since he last had some, not because Alfred refuses to make it but because the butler never has the time.

It's usually a treat for Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkah, or his birthday. Sometimes if Jason is lucky, there is another important holiday for the many members of Wayne Manor, and there is time for Alfred to get them done. He can have them more.

But mostly, Alfred had them store-bought.

That's why he wanders to the other man's line, mouth already watering as the volunteer piles smashed beans with cheese and tortillas onto plates. A name tag has a simple "Danny" on top of a white NASA shirt coupled with slightly baggy pants is the whole outfit of the stranger - odd in Gotham's winter time.

He offers Jason a smile, then, with a wink, places two more fresh tortillas on his plate.

Before he can say anything, Danny pushes the plate toward him. "I can tell you're a man who appreciates fine food. Take them. I can always make more. "

He jerks a thumb to the back, where a press awaits use. It looks just like Mrs. Huerea's iron-clad tool that, for a second, he's six again, early happy the women preparing for Christmas.

When his mother was sober, the Huereas had always opened their home to them. The elderly couple had always felt like grandparents to him.

"Thanks," He says around a forming grin. It matches Danny's.

Jason accepts the food with an excited thrill; for once, the memories of his mother are not so bitter and ruined. He moves out of the way for the next person, making a mental note to tell his men to ensure Danny gets home safely after his shift. It would be in his employee's way.

He does this often, assigning some Red Hood boys to make sure no one bothers any of the volunteers. Jason knows he can't get rid of all crime, not like Bruce believes, but he can at least protect those trying to make this place less of a shit hole.

He sits, savoring the flavor with great appreciation. He's got time to relax a little.

One of his Lieutenant is in the back, speaking to the director of the Soup Kitchen. This is one of Jason's protected areas, but to make sure people know it's not to be taken lightly, the Red Hood gang does require protection money.

He doesn't ask a lot but Jason knows that any place that doesn't have protection money is a bigger target. Of course he also here pretending to be hungry just to make sure the place is actually doing what they promised to do and feed people.

When Jason first took over, this particular place had been known to only give out half of the money they donated in food. The rest was going into the old director's pocket. When he caught wind of the senior director often refusing kids just to save money to steal, Jason quickly fed him to the fish.

His Lieutenant, Rogers, would not be able to recognize him. Jason was eating without a mask. What better disguise than his own dead face? Much less the other people in the soup kitchen.

Although he was meant to observe his surroundings for any funny business, Jason glued his eyes on Danny the entire time. It seemed the man had an easy smile for everyone and a calming personality that seemed to put even the most hostile at ease.

Snow. Jason thinks while watching Danny make more tortillas while chatting with a street kid until the young girl feels she could make one. He lets her round the table easily, showing her how to press down on the metal lever with the same soft ease. He's like pure white snow.

He would not last long in Crime Alley. Nothing pure ever does.

Jason fishes his food, unable to look away from what he knows would be a broken man in only a few weeks.

He leaves just as Rogers returns to the front clutching a brown bag. It looks like he didn't need to worry about the upkeeping of this place. He needs to check on the other kitchens in his territory before the day is out.

After three other Kitchens, Jason is satisfied that he's secured two. He must send Rogers to the last one because a few girls seemed uncomfortable with the leering crew. He'll have the creeps removed by this Friday.

He's swinging around as Red Hood on his normal patrol when he catches sight of Danny again. It's close to two in the morning, so he's surprised to see the other man cheerfully strolling about without any signs of exhaust.

He's also not wearing warm clothing despite the snow slowly falling around them. The only difference between what he was wearing earlier is the large black backpack. Jason half wonders if Danny only has nothing else to wear until the man pauses at an alley entry.

He crouches down, unzipping his bag, before pulling out a plastic-wrapped package. Jason watches him cautiously walk into the alley, following on the roofs out of curiosity.

His eyes widen when he spots a young boy hiding behind a trash bin, squishing himself against the wall as Danny carefully approaches him.

Jason hadn't seen the kid when he had passed by earlier, likely due to the boy knowing how to hide himself in the shadows. How had Danny seen him?

"Go away!" The boy yells when Danny gets too close for comfort. Jason's hackles rise, pulling out his gun in case he needs to intervene. He remembers the days when the sound of approaching footsteps to his hiding places in the streets meant.

Danny stops just on the other side of the trash bin. He places the package on top of it and backs away quickly. "I don't mean to bother you. But I thought you could use these. Stay warm, and if you need to escape the snowstorm, go to the address in the right pocket."

The boy doesn't answer, and Danny doesn't seem to wait for one. He leaves with quick strides. Jason watches him from the roof, noticing he returns to a slow stroll once he's back on the main street.

Below, the street kid carefully pulls the plastic bag towards him once he knows Danny is gone. He unwraps the bag only to gasp in delight at the jacket, gloves, hat, scarf, and socks inside. He quickly slips them on, burying himself in the small amounts of warmth they offer him.

Jason watches the boy for a few minutes before jumping down. The kid scrambles away until he realizes it's Rood Hood. Everyone knows that he won't harm street kids.

"Hey," He says, noting that the boy's new clothes seem to be made from expensive material, all in black and neon green. "Do you have somewhere warm to sleep tonight? Snowstorm is coming."

"I can handle it." The boy scoffs despite the shivers that wrack his body.

"I know you can. But it's not safe out here" He kneels at the boy's eye level. He seems about twelve, likely new to the streets since he has yet to find proper shelter. Dirty blond hair and dark, weary brown eyes stare back at him as Jason offers. "Let me get you somewhere safe."

"I won't go back to the stupid system."

"Nah, that shit's broken. I got a safe house for you to crash in."

The boy thinks it over. "Just us?"

Jason isn't a mind reader to know what the kid fears. "No. It's full of other people."

It takes a few more minutes, but eventually, he convinces Max to follow him. They travel across Crime Alley to one of the empty warehouses he had turned into an illegal shelter. Inside are various Red Hood gangsters passing out blankets and setting up cots for people from the streets to sleep.

The heaters are on, but a few still refuse to remove their warm clothing- likely in fear of theft or that it proves an extra layer of comfort- as they settle down.

Max thanks him as the boy rushes to a corner that seems to be taken over by children. He doesn't approach the others to speak to, but he looks more comfortable picking a cot close to them. Jason's eyes widen slightly when he realizes that all seven children are wearing some form of the Black and Neon Green outfits Danny had given Max.

Rogers strolls up next to him, nodding his chin at the children. "Some street kids have been saying a man is offering them free supplies. He doesn't ask for anything in return and leaves them alone with they tell him to. His calling card is the little neon green ghost he places on each item. Want me to take a few of our boys and check him out?"

Jason grunts. "No need. I already know who it is. He seems like a non-threat."

Rogers appears flabbergasted for only a few seconds before pulling himself together. "If you say so, boss."

Jason turns to stare at the man, and Rogers raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that it's a little odd how good the guy is at spotting street kids."

"How good is he?"

"It's like he can see in the dark. He might be a meta."

Jason thinks back to Danny walking around in his light clothes like it's the middle of summer instead of winter and finds some weight in the meta-theory. "I'll pay him a visit soon."

Rogers lets the matter drop, even if he is confused by Jason's involvement. Usually, he has some of the newest members of the youngest ones who reckon a personable target- or new recruits.

But something about Danny called out to Jason. He couldn't say it, but the man's snow-like personality eased the Pit Rage in him. Strangely it felt like Danny was the calm winter promising rest to the wounded parts of Jason's soul.

He didn't want to see Danny's pure heart ruined by this city.

Jason wonders if he could keep it safe and if Danny will even give him the chance to try.

He hopes so. Danny has such a lovely smile.

#dcxdpdabbles #Dead on main #Red Hood's snow #Jason falls for the man trying to make Crime Alley less terrible. #Danny is just vibing being a help to anyone that he comes across #Jason was raised along side a sweet Mexican family cause I say so #Jason falls for a man with a pure heart. #Rogers is freaking out #His boss??? with a crush??? #Hope you like!

[15minlatewithbatbucks]

no choice but to love you pt. 6

FIRST | SECOND | THIRD | FOURTH | FIFTH | SIXTH | SEVENTH | EIGHTH | NINTH | TENTH | ELEVENTH | TWELFTH | THIRTEENTH

AO3 Link (a little behind, but better edited)

“Is that little man your Timothy?” the grandmotherly woman asked, adjusting her glasses to better peer at him. Tim knew his cue well and stepped out from behind his mother with a shy little wave. He was always so good about them trotting him out in front of Gotham’s elite and Jack’s business partners.

“It is,” Janet confirmed, easily steering them both closer so Emma could get a better look. “He prefers Tim or Timmy.”

“Oh, honey. You know, you just missed bring your kid to work day,” Emma said as she slid her top desk drawer open to rifle through it.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, clearly unsure of what that was or why it was important to note that he’d missed it, but polite to a fault. “Going forward, I’ll keep that in mind.”

Emma laughed, ridiculously charmed by this little gentleman that memorized Jack’s “business talk” like a second language even if he didn’t seem to understand entirely.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little boy?” she asked and pulled out a small handful of round candies. “I could just eat you up. Here, come take some candy.”

Tim’s hand twitched in Janet’s and it became an honest struggle not to laugh. Not that it was funny that a careless internet search had half traumatized her child, not at all, but an honest fear of cannibals hiding in plain sight was probably not a bad fear for a child from Gotham.

And it brought her a valuable lesson about bringing shop talk to the dinner table as well as leaving her laptop unsecured and idling, ready to be taken advantage by little geniuses.

“Go ahead,” she murmured, nudging him a little. He shot her a wild look before shuffling forward to pluck a red candy from the offered bunch, quick as a bird with a worm. Before Emma could offer another, he was back tucking himself against Janet’s side. She smiled a little. “Sorry, Emma. He can be a little hot and cold.”

“Don’t you worry about it,” she said and deposited the rest of the candies back in her drawer. They both politely pretended they didn’t hear the soft crinkling of plastic as Tim unwrapped his treat and popped it in his mouth, quick but shy. “Jason used to be the same way, you know. One day he’d tell me all about his classes and what he got to read that week – and believe me, he said got to – and the next he would look at me like I was trying to poison him. Of course, that’s also the time I switched my Lifesavers for raisins… Say, you don’t think that had anything to do with it, do you?”

Janet laughed appropriately at the joke, nervous at the thought of Jason. Not that he seemed like a bad boy – a bit reclusive, maybe, but someone new in Tim’s life. “He sounds like a character.”

“Oh, he’s a delight,” Emma assured her. “You’ll love him, I promise.”

“Ah, so you…” Know.

“I do,” she said with a firm nod. “I’ve managed Mr. Wayne’s calendar for most of his life and his daddy’s before him. He hasn’t been going around shouting it from the rooftops, but it’s a little hard not to make the connection.”

It made sense even if Janet was struck by the urge to just start screaming. The secret was out—there was no popping a pin back in this grenade. From here on out they would have to move fast.

Janet looked down at Tim. Tim, lips shiny and red, tipped his head back to look at her. There was nothing but calm trust in his eyes. He was being so brave about this, about everything. She owed this to him.

“I just hope they’ll like him,” she confessed. She looked back to Emma, smiling awkwardly, only to be met with a knowing look. “I know the timing is… bad.”

“You’re afraid of Ms. al Ghul,” she concluded. “She’s a bit of a character herself, but she loves her family.”

Well, that’s what Janet was afraid of.

Tim wasn’t her family. Hell, Dick Grayson was Bruce’s cherished first son and the spats between him and Talia were frequent and well documented. Talia, the bold woman that appeared nearly a year ago seemingly out of nowhere to take her place at Bruce Wayne’s side. The two weren’t married, true, but they were clearly partners in their shared life.

But Bruce told her not to worry about Talia. She had to trust that Bruce knew what he was talking about and that Tim wouldn’t be sent into the lion’s den.

“I just worry,” she finished quietly. No one could blame her for that. “Is Bruce free now?”

“Oh, yes! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you for so long,” she said and smiled at Tim again. Janet felt him press closer and knew that she was going to have to have a conversation with him about how Emma was emphatically not a cannibal. “I just wanted to meet the new baby.”

Tim normally would fight the baby allegations to his last breath, but he was clearly cowed by such a fearsome foe. Janet nodded to Emma one more time before pulling Tim through the door behind her and into Bruce’s office.

Bruce looked up from his computer as soon as she cracked the door open, eyes immediately falling on Tim. He shuffled in beside her, eyes also finding Bruce. For a long moment, the father and son simply looked at one another.

Tim broke their impromptu staring contest first to look up at Janet again. In a whisper a little too loud to be secret, he asked, “Is that him?”

#my writing tag #fic: no choice but to love you #tim drake #janet drake #double posting today because why not

[jjtheresidentbaby]

yo jj! (im back again) regarding marvel asks n stuff im just gonna do a wild guess and request something, hmm idk—little!peter related IDK MAN but anything with him in it would be so great

— 🐝

Movie Night

|| Peter Parker x Avengers Team

notes ; The team finding out peters a little? The team finding out peters a little. 🤝

warnings ; pet names, pacifiers, peter being insecure about his regression

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

-

Peter loves having a room of his own in the Avengers tower, it’s decorated how he wants it, it’s freaking huge, and most importantly, the door locks.

The door locks to keep everyone he wants out, there’s even a code on it that only he knows, it’s actually just his and Mj’s birthdays added together typed in backwards, but— who would guess that?

Parker considers himself to be on his own when he sneaks into the bedroom after a long patrol or heavy mission that left far too many injuries with far too little victories. He can regress in his room without worry, asking Friday to make sure the doors locked, grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen beforehand, sharing that weirdly knowing look Natasha and him do when she catches him scurrying towards his room with a bag of cookies hanging from his mouth.

It’s perfect, so much better than when he’d spend his time worrying that May would walk in without warning, catching him with old stuffed animals held to his chest or god forbid a pacifier in his mouth. The tower defeats all that anxiety, letting him be as small as he wants for as long as he wants, as long as the doors closed and he doesn’t tell anyone the code. Two rules, easy to follow and remember.

-

What Peter never accounted for is that Tony can access all of Fridays information with a click of a button, it’s all laid out for him to see, including Peters door password.

But there’s no time to plan around that now as Peter is sitting helplessly in the middle of his bed. There’s cartoons on the Tv, his old brown bear in his arms, soft blue crewneck hanging loosely off his frame, and most notably, a sage green pacifier in his mouth.

He had gone on a mini shopping spree after Mr. Stark paid him for his first mission with the avengers— he didn’t even know they got paid, but Tony gave him cash— which was all spent in the matter of two weekends. Now Peter has a nice selection of little gear tucked into his closet at the tower.

“Kid you’ve locked yourself in here for hours now, Bruce wants to watch some rom com and I need you to pick a better movie for movi—.” The words die on Tony’s tongue when he turns fully towards Peter, eyes wide and mouth open in shock, Parker can only tug his bear in closer to his chest.

He doesn’t know what to do. Neither of them do. Tony looks so confused and maybe- angry?- oh god he looks angry! Peter can’t have Mr. Stark mad at him! What is he kicks him out! Or takes his suit away again, or tells the rest of the Avengers, or yells at him, or tells May—

“Kid? I asked you something, you gonna answer?” Oh he’s closer now, arms crossed over his chest, standing directly in front of the foot of the bed, a quirked brow for effect. Peter didn’t hear a word though, he tentatively shakes his head no.

“Are you still coming to movie night?” No, he can’t, not like this, they’d all laugh at him— he’s supposed to be a big strong superhero, not a little kid that really just wants to be held and told everything will be okay.

“Okay. Are you sure? I’m sure the team can put on a kids movie?” Tony urges in an oddly soft tone, his face falling away from the initial shock to a gentle smile.

It does sound kinda nice to watch a movie on the big Tv in the living room, and Peter really likes movie nights where he can sit between Natasha and Tony…….

“Nothin scary.” Tony breaks into a grin as he nods easily, reaching to ruffle Peters hair.

“Nothing scary, I promise. You ready to go?” While Stark does offer up a hand, Peter wants to be picked up, it’s the one thing he’s unable to do on his own, so he makes grabby hands for Tony in a sheepish way until Stark rolls his eyes before bending to place Parker on his hip.

-

They make their way down the long hallway with Tony murmuring facts he knows about age regression, telling Peter how proud he is that the tower is somewhere he feels safe enough to regress, how Tony’s always going to be there if Peter needs— really just turning Parker into a blushing mess before they reach the living room.

“There you two are! Where have you bee-?” Bruce immediately stops talking, eyebrows furrowed thickly together, making everyone else pause their conversations to turn towards Tony and Peter, all equally as surprised.

“Nat!” Peters whole face lights up seeing the redhead, his pacifier almost falling to the ground if Tony wasn’t there to secure it back in place.

“Spiderling! You havin’ a good night?” She stands immediately, abandoning her spot beside Clint to rush over to where Tony and Peter are.

“Mm! Mr. Stark said we watchin’ good movie, nothin scary.” Natasha hums along, plucking Peter into her own arms despite Tony’s huffing of disapproval.

“Well now we are, can’t scare you can we?” The brunette giggles when Nat scrunches her nose up with a head shake, flopping down onto the couch back beside Clint, wrapping an arm around Peters back to make sure he won’t fall.

“Did you just do this to get out of watching my pick?” Bruce turns to Tony to roll his eyes at the other man’s shrug.

“Look at him, how could you say no to that Bruce?” Tony defends with a motion over to Peter, his smile beaming when Banner turns to laugh lightly at the sight of him sprawled over Natasha, bordering on also crushing Clint.

“Touché Stark, but we’re so watching my movie next time.” Everyone agrees to that, quickly settling down once a child’s movie gets chosen, although the team is all too consumed watching Peter nuzzle into Natasha’s side while reaching an arm over Clint as he feels a bit bad only laying with Nat, nobody complains over the adorable sight.

#jj writes #marvel agere #little!peter #caregiver!avengers team #the avengers #peter parker #the avengers team #🐝 anon

[weebsinstash]

It would be hilarious if batsis! Reader managed to flee her dimension but ended up in like, Earth 63 a.k.a DC VS. Vampires universe.

Reader unlocks a metagene or finds an Apokolops Motherbox that let's her warp to other dimensions and she tries to run from the Batfam by 'jumping' and just runs into infinitely worse reincarnations of them

Like just for example uhhhh I know this is a separate character for a moment but have you considered how absolutely unhinged yandere Superman from the Injustice timelines would be. He loses Lois and his unborn child and he's in full "you know what, not only is murder ok, what if I bonded with Brainiac's ship and literally became a brainwashing fucking fascist" mode and he winds up transferring a lot of trauma and misplaced affection and obsession onto you like, and that's on top of the other unhinged shit like killing Shazam who is you know, not that he knew but that's literally a child, he accidentally but still did indeed murder a child, and even after learning the truth he's like eh sacrifices must be made, and like, THE BAD ENDING? He literally figures out how to rob people of free will and JUMPS at the opportunity like, this scene is genuinely horrifying "You make the right choice or I make it for you" like oh my god i would actually kill myself before I let him get his hands on me

Then you have not exactly a universe but more of a timeline but, you want to talk about unhinged alternate versions, we literally have Flashpoint Thomas Wayne. Bruce brutalizes locks up and or frames and even sends away anyone who messes with you. Thomas just outright fucking kills them. Thomas literally has nothing to lose and has no qualms against being an absolute menace. Like god romantic/sexual yandere are always my cookies and cream but like platonic yandere Thomas would either be the most terrifyingly protective person you'd ever met or extremely soft to you and you alone because he's already lost his family, his CHILD, so like, absolutely fuck your chances if you stumble upon him and he forms some kind of bond

Just also imagine just as a general concept like the whole universe travelling thing basically plops you down in the same place just different worlds and how either convenient or terrible that would be. You wind up jumping from the Batcave straight into the Owlcave. You go from the Watchtower to The Crime Syndicate's HQ or some other evil Justice League. But alternatively in more positive twists, from a Joker hideout being kidnapped to like.... the Lego Batman movie where him and Bruce are just chilling on the couch eating popcorn and also I still have to watch that movie I hear it's absolutely adorable 😩❤️ or you go from a Gotham that is just genuinely fucking awful, not even the smallest sparks of joy, crime and lunatics everywhere, full on edgelord comic book world some real The Boys But The Horrible Comic Version shit, and you wind up jumping from that to Brave and the Bold Bruce and get to basically relax and be your inner kid in full on superhero camp wackiness like genuinely BatB is soul healing in it's genuine, idk, wholesomeness like look at these dorks

While on the subject of heroes and such I'm trying to remember how much I actually wound up reading/watching through YouTube videos of the Invincible comic bc I'll be real I'm still down pretty bad for Nolan Grayson 😩 actually him and Superman give me very similar ideas of "oh what if you turned out to be a member of my species and I want to either train you or adopt you or mate you or whatever and I'm occasionally being casually terrifying about it" like idk if I mentioned this before but like, imagine finally learning how to fly and you get found out by Nolan (or Clark) and they literally help fly you all the way back home and like, it genuinely IS to make sure you get home, you just learned to fly and you could very easily get lost, but also like, they're following you home as you demand them not to and you're so inexperienced with any sort of fighting that if you tried to punch whichever one in anger they'd just like catch your fist and be like "oh wow you can hit harder than most your age that's really impressive 😊" but like very, very much still fending you off like you're not that much different than a human to them

I feel like I should often be, how do I put this, I love adhd ranting about shit and explaining things to people so I kinda feel like sometimes I should genuinely just talk about certain things to introduce them to people who have no idea what I'm talking about because like, idk I often talk and refer to things in ways only consumers of that media would understand and I could occasionally like you know link a clip or ramble or something to include other people? For example, this is an example of why I think Nolan is scary but also like in a sexy controlling way 😏 you know, hypothetically. And like he literally tried to teach his son a horrifying tough love "humans don't matter earth doesn't matter only we viltrumites matter fuck earth lets conquer it for our race" lesson by literally holding his son's body up in a subway to be hit by the oncoming train and let his invulnerability literally rip the passengers inside the train apart while his son was SCREAMING IN HORROR BY THE WAY. And also still scary but more mildly, did I ever reblog that Superman art where he's got you up in the air with him and your like extreme fear of heights has you clinging and hugging onto him because, also something both of them would do 🥰 cuddles because you don't want to be dropped and die! Not that they would do it but, you know, bonding, yay! ❤️

#yandere stuff #sinprompts

[madds-is-ace-trash]

I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL IM SORRY 

HI so don't except a lot from this chapter :/ its like all set up. Also i like cant write so…..

also my laptop is like on its last legs, hence why this is getting uploaded now and not a week ago. Also happy holidays.

Any who after this chapter get exited cus the next one is just Danny being a little menace >:-) https://archiveofourown.org/works/43353157/chapters/110594544

Chapter 6: A Bat, The Birds, And A .... Plane?

summary:Some tag, some shipping, and some plot set up.

“ Danny I promise they're gonna love you star-boy,” when Danny came out of the bathroom he looked a lot calmer than even this morning. Still visually nervous but he looked a lot more comfortable. Back in a shirt that was 4 sizes too big (Damian had already given them the smallest thing he had earlier), he fiddled with his hands as he walked over and lightly head-butted dicks leg. Dick fluffed the boy's hair leaning into Danny a little allowing the boy to cling to him. He had asked if Cass was ok, which was weird, had he thought he hurt her? He did suppose she didn't fallow dick and maybe the kid thought he had.He assured him that Cass was okay and that she was actually waiting with the others who wanted to meet him properly. 

  And Danny was right back to being shy and closed off, great.  Well he supposed that was normal to some degree, at least most of the kids he encountered in both his day job and night job tended to be a little closed off. He was giving Danny reshuring words all the way back to the dining room, no one had actually finished dinner in the chaos.  Cass shot dick a satisfied grin seeing that Danny still had the blanket in tow as he leaned against dick chest, the kid only made it about halfway down the hall before dick scooped him up like a puppy. 

  His sister was the first to scurry over to her brother's place in the doorway. Some of the tension the kid was caring released upon seeing her soft smile. “ Hi buddy are you doing ok?” she asked in a soft tone. All Danny did was nod. Then after a moment he looked her up and down, then at dicks shoulder, and then proceeded to make GRABBY HANDS towards his sister. Cas gently took the boy up on his offer leaving dick to do nothing but stare in shock. Betrayal by his own son and it hadn't even been 48 hours! 

  But then again maybe it wasn't a betrayal? The whole time Danny had been keeping himself off of the shoulder that he had clung onto for dear life during the fiasco with Bruce. Had Danny not wanted to aggravate it? He did ask if Cass was ok upstairs. O man Danny had realized he may have hurt dick and was worried about hurting him further. How….how did.  “Danny just so you know my shoulder ok. Promise buddy it wasn't that bad,” dick leaned in and whispered. He didn't want the little dipper beating himself up over a sore shoulder; this was nothing. 

  Cass on the other hand looked like she was having the time of her life, her whole face lit up in the same way one would look at a kitten. Well if Danny could take to cass so easily maybe there was hope that the rest of his gaggle wouldn't turn out so bad? 

  Then dick looked at Bruce, who was staring at the boy but otherwise keeping his distance. 

  He could make this work!

  —-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  It took all of Cass’s willpower to not bounce up and down with excitement. Her nephew just got his stitches fixed; she wasn't about to tear them.  He was a lot lighter than she had thought, then again it explained how dick just seemed to forget he was caring for him when she picked them up.  Also she was so totally getting those cool aunt points!

  Tim , Damian, and Duke all sat at the table not daring to say anything just yet. Even Damian, with all his ‘this is ridiculous’ and ‘I don't understand the eagerness over some child’ was fidgeting in his seat.  Cass looked all her brothers in the eye and decided Duke was probably her best bet. She nodded at Dick to follow and they made way over to the day time hero. He really should be in bed but he Insisted on staying up. 

  “Hi there, Danny right?” Duke said upon realizing he was first pick. Honestly he was kinda glad after all he was the only other person who had been around Danny in some way.  “ My name's Duke, I’m one of dicks brothers. I helped him find you when you flew off.” Duke kept his volume low and steady; he still wasn’t quite Sure if the kid's hearing was affected by his ability. 

  “You're the meta right?” His answer was just as quiet, Danny asked, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. 

  “Why yes I am, little man, Gatta says though I’m glad to have another powered up little friend around.” Duke said with a wink. 

  This made Danny giggle the sound open and soft like the chiming of a bell. The boy in Cass's arms leaned out more, clearly Comforted by Duke's quiet yet playful tone. 

  Dick chimed in with a wicked grin across his face which could only mean one thing, “ Yeah gotta say you guys could totally chill” 

  Danny immediately got excited at the prospect of puns, dang mabey this really was Dick secret love child. “ O Yhea! Icy what you did there. We could have a hail of a time.” Danny giggles barely able to keep his composure. 

  Dicks hand flew over his mouth barely keeping back the barrage of giggles. Cas liked dicks puns and all but this; it might be dangerous. 

  “Oh my lord,” Tim blurted out in a ‘I'm too tired to deal with this’ tone. 

  “Why Ice puns of all things?  that seems ridiculous, he’s not Mr. Freeze Richard.” Damian hissed, however his face screamed Curiosity. 

  “ Oh Yeah right I didn’t mention that, Danny accidentally frosted over his blanket a little.”  Dick rattled off adding yet another item to the ever growing list of Danny’s supposed abilities. 

  Damian thought about it for a moment, then nodded, “ Yes well I guess that makes some semblance of sense, I do believe Jon has done the same thing on more than one occasion.” 

  “You have a friend that can make frost! It would be snow cool to meet him.” Danny chirped, his Weight shifting off of Cass as he began to float with excitement. 

  “Calm down silly you're gonna float away,” cas said rubbing the boy's shoulder. 

  “ Yhea don’t wanna be out of this world now do we?“ Dick chucked. 

  Dick and Danny laughed, Tim and Damian groaned, and Duke and Cass were smiling. Yeah this meet and greet was Turning out to go smoother than they thought. 

————————————————-

  Bruce needed to calm down, his children were all giggles and smiles,( well except maybe Damian but as close as he could get to that, so besides him) they obviously were already growing attached to the little meta that had found there what in the dicks care. But Damian had brought up a fair point, some of the child’s powers did remind him of Jon and well Clark by extension.

  So now Bruce was worried, it wouldn’t have been the first time Clark had been cloned. But the kid was obviously injured so Surely that couldn’t be the case? Clark and Jon were practically indestructible. But then again Alfred had texted him to say that there had been green flecks in the boy's blood. They still had to test it but…But If the boy was a clone, one used to find and exploit the kryptonians weaknesses. 

  “So Danny? What do you like to do for fun?” Tim asked the boy who was floating with excitement. His daughter kept a firm grip to ground the boy. 

  “I like games and books!”

  “Oh what type of games?” 

  They boy thought for a moment his face scrunched in thought as if the Memories were hard to recall his hand placed on his chin(like how Clark looked when he was thinking about something) “I like tag!” Danny chirped his to blue to be human eyes widened with excitement. 

  Ok Yeah this is definitely a problem, Bruce needs to get his heart rate under control, before the actual Clark listens in and senses his panic. 

  And as if on cue his phone rang.

  “ I’m sorry I’ll be just a moment,” Bruce excused himself as his children planned how to set up a game of tag with a meta that can fly. 

  “ Yes Clark” 

  “ Hey B everything alright? You sound like something is wrong.” 

  “Clark, I need you to be honest with me…. Have, have you been cloned again to your knowledge?” 

  “ Not that I know of what makes you ask that,” worry began to creep into Kent's voice. 

  “ Clark I think, I think something bad is happening.”

  “Bruce, what’s going on?” 

  “Dick brought home a kid no older than 6, he found the kid in an alley passed out.” Bruce took a sharp inhale “ who ever managed to hide him there fought and paid with there life, there was way to much blood and no body” 

  Clark Hummed in agreement. 

  “ The kid is covered in scars, way too many to be childhood recklessness. And on top of that the freshest wound is a y shape going across his chest.” Bruce paused not wanting to think of the implications but they were clear as day, “ some one vivisected him Clark.” 

  “No who… you said he was 6. Wait, if you think he’s my clone how would that be possible. It would be impossible right?” 

  “Normally, however, the kid has green flecks in his blood. We haven’t been able to test them yet but. But that mixed with what powers he’s displayed.” 

  Silence from the other end of the line. 

  “Clark?”

  “I’m on my way B.” 

  “Clark, you don’t have to do that.” 

  “Yes yes I do, your heart rate keeps climbing and a potential clone, that is an actual child, is in your care.” Clark softens his tone. “I’m not making you do this alone B.” 

  “ The kid was found in Gotham, it’s not safe for you or Jon here till we figure out what’s happening.”

  “Too late Brucie, I'll see you in an hour.” 

  Better warn the kids that uncle Clark Is stopping by. 

——————————————

  “Are you Sure it’s safe to have him play tag?” Tim asked his brother. Danny was floating along the hallway being pulled along by Cass towards Dicks gym. 

  “Yep of course Timbo he promised to be careful and after all we gotta get this energy out of him somehow y’all got him all wound up.”  He wasn’t wrong Danny couldn’t contain himself enough to land back on the floor. He had even done a few flips when they said they could play.  “And after all poor duke stayed up so long already the least we can do is get the kid to come down so he can sleep in peace.” 

  Dick wasn’t wrong Duke had gone to bed but Tim knew he was having a rough time. It was actually Danny who convinced Duke to get some sleep, gave him his new blanket and everything. 

  When they got to the gym Dick got to work covering the place in Mats. Cass stepped up to help and Tim was left with Danny and Damian. The kid practically vibrated with eximent. Dicks gym was actually pretty big, it’s actually we’re Tim had learned some of his parkour and gymnastics he used for his night job. That meant it would be the perfect place to jump and swing after a flying meta child. 

  “ Can I help set it up! Where do you keep the guns? I can get those!” Danny blurted out innocently like he hadn’t just asked for a weapon. 

  “Guns?“ Tim swung his head towards the boy trying to keep his expression flat. 

  “Yhea! Normally when we play tag mom and dad or sometimes the other people shoot at me. You gotta try not to get hit.” 

  Tim froze in place, his mom and dad shot at him and he thinks it’s a game? That’s another point for the Science experiment list. “Well we said we were taking it easy, remember? So um no guns this time.” 

  “Oh ok.” Danny said easy enough at least, but he was clearly confused at the lack of weapon’s. 

  “Ok let’s lay down some ground rules!” Dick chimed bouncing on his heels. “ First little man, you can fly but you can’t go above 10 feet. We still gotta be able to catch you after all. “ Danny nodded, “ ok great! Next, this is a friendly game so no pushing or shoving. And lastly” dick tapped Damian lightly on the shoulder, “YOUR IT!”  And the game was on. 

  Dicks gymnasium was perfect for this weird game of aerial tag, the whole thing was covered in beans and bars, hanging loops, and plenty of places to jump and launch oneself into the air. Combine that with all the training the gang of birds( and a bat technically but Cass was as much of a bird as the rest of them)  had gone through, they had no problem keeping up with the floating boy.

  Danny was actually pretty good at keeping the 10 feet rule, and when he went above it he would jerk himself back down.  He also kept his turns pretty wide probably to keep him from twisting himself too much. Before long Damian had tagged Cass, launching himself from on top or a beam and tapping her on her shoulder. Cass giggled with delight and began the chase, the chain continued: dick, Danny, Tim, Cass,Damian,Danny,back to Cass, and now Tim. 

  Danny had the biggest grin on his face as he turned around and stuck his tongue out at Tim. Oh Tim was so gonna catch this kid. He took a running start then jumped and grabbed onto a horizontal bar, using his momentum to spin himself around and launch off. Propelling himself into the air after Danny. That was until the door flung open, causing Tim to turn to see who it was. He felt himself falling as he reached for his grapple…. He doesn’t have a grapple, he’s going to hit the floor. At least dick and Cass had laid Matts. He went to curl himself to roll the fall. 

  But he never hits the floor, he’s hanging in the air being held by the back of his shirt like a kitten. And who else is holding him but Danny. Holding Tim like he weighs nothing. And of course it just had to be B and Clark who had bust threw the door. 

  Tims face went red as dick and case giggled in the background. This was not happening. 

  —---------------------------------------------

  When Clark walked in he was a little surprised to be fair. He had heard the children giggling from down the hall even without his super hearing. But a game of arial tag was not what he had expected. And on top of that the clone(Danny he apparently liked to be called), had ‘saved’ Tim from a fall and was holding him up with one hand like he weighed nothing. 

  The boy's heart rate proceeded to sky rocket as his eyes flicked between Bruce and Clark. The kids bright blue eyes wide. He gently places Tim on his feet then rushes to hide behind Bruce's oldest. The man was hanging upside on a ring, his legs hooked around it.  The small boy is clinging to dicks pants.  Floating Soundlessly mid-air. 

  “I'm sorry we didn't mean to scare you,” Bruce offers, holding his hands up so they're visible. Clark followed, B did warn the boy was jumpy. “ Sorry, I texted you, I thought you read it.”

  “No it's ok,” Dick said in a soft tone patting the boy's shoulder despite his position, “ We were playing tag so we were kind of distracted.” Dick does a flip landing on his feet. Danny swiftly scrambled into his arms hiding his face Against the man's chest. The boy's heart seems to calm at the touch. 

  “ I'm sorry if we spooked you,” Clarke offered, trying to keep his voice mello, “ can I make it up to you?” 

  The boy ignored them, gripping tighter onto Dicks shirt. 

  He couldn't deny Bruce's observation, the boy did kind of look like Clark but he was…off. Maybe a side effect of what they had done to him? He looked at the slightly shorter man next to him. His face was glazed with worry, a consequence of the man’s ever-bleeding heart.  But He would be lying if he said he didn't like it, Bruce had always had a soft spot for children. 

  “Danny this is Clark, he's really nice I promise,” dick nudged the boy. All of the kids had crowded around Dick, forming a half circle. Cass rubbed Danny's back gently prompting him to reach for and hold her hand. Even Damian had moved, his body held wound like he was ready to pounce if either man took a step forward. “ he's a friend” 

  “Danny, I just wanted to say hello I'm not going to hurt you,” he thought about what Bruce had told him about the boy. The way he explained the boy's apparent love of books and stars with a soft smile on his face. Clark loved that smile. “ You like stars right? That’s pretty cool, did you know that a lot of the stars have story’s connected to them.”

  They boy perked up at the mention of story’s. “Stories!” They boy practically vibrated. 

  “Yes?” Clark stated hestinly, the boy's excitement sending a strange buzzing sensation throughout the kryptonians body. 

  “Can we tell stories,” Danny tugged softly on dicks shirt, “ please.” 

  “Shure why not!” Dick chimed happily.

  2 hours later 

  Clark was a patient man but sitting down for 2 hours as a child told the legends about stars has pushed him to his limit. It wasn’t even that Danny was annoying or had I’ll intentions, it was that he was just so excited. He would regularly start floating and have to be grounded, or would lose track of the story on a side tangent. He stimmed with his hands a lot, which had caused him to hit more than one person on accident. 

  Take all that with the fact that Clark took the opportunity to use his x-ray vision on the boy. He didn’t like what he found. For the most part they boy was normal, but a pit sat where his heart would be. A mass that Clark could not see through. B had said the boy had evidence that he was vivisected. He also said the kid had green flecks in his blood. Which could only mean one thing. Whoever cut the boy open had implanted one of those little green rocks inside his heart. 

  It made Clark sick as he watched this boy, who’s heartbeat was just a littel to slow, who’s frame was small with malnutrition, and who had been left abandoned. Some had hurt this kid clone or not. Conner was a clone but he was just as much Clark's as jon was. The fact that the boy was still functioning was a testament to how much he had been around it.

  Bruce seemed to sense Clark’s tension placing his hand in his. 

Well it did help, It didn’t stop his worry. 

  Danny turned around slowly and looked Clark in the eyes. A confused expression crossed his face. “ That man likes your daddy.” He said to dick ‘a matter of factly’.

  The room went silent Cass and dick stifling laughs. Clarks cheeks began to heat, being called out by a six year old. 

  “I um…. Yes I do like his dad? B and I are good friends.” Clark managed to blurt out his Accent cutting through in his flustered state. Him and Bruce had started experimenting but it wasn’t even serious Enough to tell the kids yet. 

  “ No you like him” Danny said with a devilish grin. “ I can hear it.” Clark took note that when the boy said ‘hear’ he placed his hand on his chest. 

  “ Ok I think we're done for the night!” Tim shoots up scoping Danny out of the air. “ Come one Dick don’t you think we should get Danny in bed.” 

  “I’m not tir!-“

  “Yep totally,” dick giggled. “Come on starshine, it’s late.” Cass popped up beside him and sent  her father a small smile. “ You wanna be able to play tomorrow right?” Dick siad pinching the boy's cheek. 

  Damian hadn’t said a word he was,Pouting? He had a sour expression on his face, not one Clark thought he liked. “Sleep now, wounds heal” Cass added as she finished putting away the last of the Mats they had been sitting on.

  “ Oh we’ll then good night Danny,” Bruce added his tone soft. “ I hope to see you in the morning?” 

  “I agree it’s awfully late and I do have school in the morning.” Damian half heartily complained as he left the room. Clark hadn’t even noticed he had gotten up.  All of B's children processed to scurry out of the room full of giggles and smirks. Well this is not how he thought this night would go. 

  “Hm” Bruce finally added into the silent room. “ So what do you think of him?”

  “To be honest I think he’s going to fit right in, a little detective already.” He grubles, “ But B something is wrong with him”

  “What Clark?” The tension returned to Bruce’s shoulders. “What did you see?” 

  “It’s not what I did, it’s what I couldn't. I think…. I think someone implanted kryptonyte into the boy's heart. It makes too much Sense, it explains the flecks in his blood, why I can’t see his heart, why he seems so physically weak, and the surgery wound.” Clark looked at B, staring into his soft blue eyes, “ Someone, something, hurt that boy and I don’t know if it’s even safe for us to fix it.” 

And that look Clark hated to see was back. The look of hopelessness, the same one he had when they lost someone in a mission. The same look that happens when he thinks of Jason. 

And this time he doesn’t know how to fix it. 

  ————————————————-

  “So timbo any reason in particular you stormed out,” Dick finally broke the silence of the hallway. Dick, Cass, and Tim were all sitting in the hallway outside of dicks old room, they had tucked Danny into bed but none had the heart to stray too far. 

  “ I don’t want to talk about it.” He mumbled his face tinting pink. 

  “Tim did you not know? Buddy it's so obvious I swear. How did you not know? Those two are constantly together.” Dick giggled. 

  “ I…No and it’s just weird, did you see B's face? They were holding hands! It was just so all at once. And also does that mean I Inherited my taste in men from Bruce. Is nothing sacred.” Tim rambled on. He didn’t want to think about it. He knew B had been with people, shoot the baby bat was living proof. But he always made an effort to keep it away from the kids. Yet he was holding hands with Superman. And now Tim was starting to think maybe dick wasn’t the only one who took after B.

  Does That mean Kon is taking after Clark? Ok nope turning brain off no more of that train. 

  “You're a dork,” Dick ruffled Tim’s hair. This was it Tim was going to roll over and die.

————————————————-

  On the other side of Gotham the rain pours and the thunder rolls. The sky sticks with static electricity. A white van parked itself on the opposite side of the city, and the people inside were not welcome. 

  “Dose this rain ever fucking stop,” A man groaned.

  “They warned us the city was gloomy,” his partner pointed out. They stepped out of the van and headed towards Gotham cathedral. Their White suites soaked with Gotham's malice. 

  She would drive them out, she would find a way. For her new ward and for her knights she vowed.

OK guys you know the drill its tag time there is a lot of you im so sorry if i missed some one:

@fisticuffsatapplebees

@terzatheunderscorerima @sweet-itachi-lovin @undead-essence @blacksea21090 @markus209 @nonbinary-disasterter @starkcravingmad @ashxshadow @aikoiya @rainbowbunny0159 @pastalavistamf @kae-membrana-blog @thegatorsgoose @beelze-the-bubkiss @mayoota-blog1 @wisteriavines @kilasmess @grey-lysander @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @aconitewolfsbane

@may-rbi @justwannaseesomebrozawa @chaoticmistake @seraphinedemort

#danny phantom #dp #dpxdc #dc x dp #ms&sc #ghost king danny #ghost king au #de aged #baby danny #bruce wayne #clark kent #superbat #hurt/comfort #fanfic #phandom