#bruce Wayne’s adoption senses are tingling
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A click. The closing and opening of a camera shutter. The whirr of film as it slides across the inner workings of his camera.
Timothy Drake heaved himself off of the concrete roof as soon as the vigilantes left his eyesight. He swaps the film roll, placing the used one inside of the tin with a barely restrained grin. He’d gotten good shots tonight- a confrontation with Harvey Dent, batarangs swooping to cut the new Robin free- and Tim was excited to race back to his dark room in order to develop those candids.
He climbs down the side of the building, the spelunking gear he’d splurged his parents’ money on working wonderfully on Gotham’s stone and concrete buildings.
“Mom, I want to be just like you guys!” He’d said, and his mom agreed to spare no expense for his new hobby. Well, their secretary did, with his parent’s disinterested permission. After all, spelunking is sometimes needed for artifact digs… probably.
Besides, the moment he had brought up Bruce Wayne’s propensity for “spelunking,” his father had immediately sent him more cave scaling stuff in order to “network with the other successful businessmen, Timmy!”
Tim slides away from the alley with full awareness. Even in Bristol, one had to be careful to avoid the multitudes of goons out and about. The Narrows are definitely worse than Bristol and Tim wasn’t about to let his hard work be taken away just like that. As he trudged home- taking a taxi once he was in a slightly more “trustworthy area”- Tim became slightly lost in his thoughts about the identities of Gotham’s vigilantes. Technically there’s only two.
Tim knows there’s three.
Batman.
Robin.
Nightwing.
Bruce Wayne.
Jason Todd.
Dick Grayson.
His sharp mind, now assuaged from the mystery of their identities, worked hard to match the fights he witnessed to the injuries the prolific Wayne family hid the next day.
Timothy Drake thinks he’ll never get bored following his vigilantes.
——
He’s bored. He’s so irrevocably, irredeemably bored.
Tim had been so excited to go, too! Perhaps for different reasons than everyone else because he was here to observe his heroes out of their masks, not for the Annual Wayne Gala that’s the end-all of high society life. As in, if you weren’t invited, that’s the end of your social life. Bruce Wayne held high society in his palms and Tim is only fifty percent sure he knew and/or cared. Regardless, he was prepared to be a pod-son to his parents’ fake good-parents act, and accordingly suffered thirty minutes of cheek-pinching and fake laughs just for the opportunity to see the three Bats in one place.
They’re not here. They won’t be here for another twenty minutes.
Anyways, he’s bored and irritated. Definitely annoyed enough for some bad ideas.
And Tim might not be aware of this fact about himself until much later when he’s more self-aware, but a bored and irritated Tim Drake is bad news for everyone.
He takes after Janet Drake, after all, and Janet Drake is only after Bruce Wayne in influence and cunning.
And his heroes, his beloved heroes, are the targets of his ire tonight. Tim smiles wider, pod-person smile widening to a baring of ravenous teeth incredibly off putting on a nine year old, and immediately changes course towards the delicate jello squares sitting at the buffet table.
The Waynes will be learning the importance of punctuality at their own galas by the time Tim’s done. He swears it. He even has a get out of jail free card!
Just. A small bit of petty revenge.
Tim nabs a bowl full of the jellos, snacking on one as he makes his way to the Wayne family’s most favorite balcony. Everyone knows it’s the one the family members go to when the Gala gets overwhelming. It’s an unspoken rule that no one else may enter it. Tim slips around the blind spots in the cameras.
High society might call someone a bitch in forty different ways, all hidden behind silk smiles and false eyes, but they’d respect the oddest things.
Tim… doesn’t care. He’s been breaking rules since he was seven.
He sets to his task, setting the jello cubes in the places he’d calculated that Jason or Bruce or Dick might step on. Mild revenge, yes, but Tim doesn’t want to bother Alfred too much. The butler had looked a bit tired earlier. Task done, Tim squeezes back into the party and smiles like his life depended on it.
“Brucie!” His dad boomed, and Tim felt his smile widen once more.
“Jack!” Batman’s Brucie personality bounced into the ballroom as the party kicked back up with the host’s presence. “How’ve you been, old chap?”
“The digs have been very fruitful!”
“I see you’ve brought someone with you today! Well, other than your strikingly beautiful wife, of course!”
“This is my son, Timothy!”
“Hello, Timothy. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Oh. My. God. He’s shaking hands with Batman!
“Hi. I’m Timothy Drake.”
“Oh my gosh, Tim!” His mom laughs, fake nails and laugh digging into his shoulders. Oops. Too informal.
“It’s alright.”
“BRUCE!”
Oh my god, it’s ROBIN. Tim’s smile twitches, barely containing his squeals.
“Jaylad? What’s wrong?”
“Someone left jello cubes all over the balcony!”
“What?” Bruce (Brucie, Tim decides is the name of the mask) turns to his parents and excuses himself.
“Mom? I’m going to go network with Bruce Wayne’s son.”
No, he’s not. He’s gonna go watch them lose their minds.
“That’s my boy!” His dad claps him on the shoulder and shoos him off. His mom narrowing her eyes at him but ultimately dismissing him.
Perfect. By the time he gets there, he hears Nightwing- Dick Grayson, oh my god!- asking “O” to figure out who left all those cubes on the floor.
“Drake?” Ah, shit.
“Weren’t we just talking to him earlier, B?”
“Yes, but I haven’t got the slightest idea why he’d leave jello cubes all over the place.”
“Assassination attempt?” Jason asks.
“Whatever it is, it ruined my running shoes!”
“Dick, please, just wash it off or give it to Alfred.”
“Ugh, we can just go ask him.”
“And make a scene?” Jason sounds eager.
“No. Alfred ordered us specifically not to.”
Silence. Tim grins and slips away, making his way through and voiding the cameras as usual.
—-
“Timmy!”
Tim smiles politely at Brucie Wayne while inwardly cheering. His dad looks at him with stars in his eyes and leaves him to work his magic.
“Yes, Mr. Wayne?” Pod-person smile!
“This is my son, Jason. And this is Dick.”
“Hi. I’m Jason!” He holds out a hand for Tim to shake. Dick smiles at him and Tim thinks he might expire on the Wayne’s ballroom floor.
“Hello,” Tim suppresses his urge to scream excitedly. “I’m Timothy Drake. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Woah, you sound so stiff.”
“Jason!” Brucie Wayne chides. “Anyways, Timmy, you looked like you had something to tell me earlier. Something wrong, kiddo?”
No, no he didn’t. But… they don’t know that he knows their secret. And they don’t know he knows that they don’t know.
Tim acts confused, but then clears up with his expression like he just thought of something.
“Oh! I was wondering why you were late, Mr. Wayne. Did Batman stop you on the way back?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, I know you don’t really like Batman, Mr. Wayne,” Tim cackles inwardly. “But he saves you a lot. Were you stopping crime?”
“I… I’m not Batman.”
“Well, I know that,” Tim huffs. “It’s just weird no one’s seen you and Batman in the same room.” Tim cheerfully ignores the alarm making its way onto the trio’s faces and his dad’s frantic, further away, cut it out motion. “But obviously that’s because Batman’s busy putting on his gear, right?”
“And how do you figure that…?” Dick asks, tense.
“Uh, he always knows when you’re in trouble? He always comes in minutes of you guys getting held hostage. Is his base on the manor grounds? Oh, is it a secret that you’re funding him? Don’t worry! I know how to keep a secret! Can you tell the new Robin that I think he’s the best?” Tim grins cutely up at Batman. Ah, he means Brucie Wayne.
“Sure can, kiddo! Don’t tell anyone else, okay?” Jason swoops in, grinning back Tim.
Eeee!
As he nods, Tim can’t help mentioning the cubes. “Oh, sorry about the cubes! I thought I’d be able to track them with their shoe print if Batman and Robin came to save you guys but I guess that wasn’t going to happen. I’m really sorry!” He uses the “cute duckling” face and Dick visibly melts.
“No problem, Timmy! You should come over to play Clue with us sometime! I think you’d be good at it.”
“Oh! Really?” His words becomes a bit more genuine. “I’ve never played it. My mom and dad aren’t around much so. Um. Would it be okay if we do?”
“This weekend.” Brucie Wayne’s voice suddenly became more firm. “I’ll talk to your parents about it.
—-
As Tim waves the Wayne’s goodbye, he hears from Dick, “You only like him because he said you’re the best.”
And Jason’s reply, “Because he’s got good taste,” made the rest of his night. Not week, because tomorrow, he gets to poke around Wayne manor again!
#tim drake is a menace#tim drake#bruce wayne is tired dad with unhinged kids#bruce Wayne’s adoption senses are tingling#bruce wayne#batman#nightwing#Tim literally dngaf and is waiting for the bats to play catch up#dick grayson#jason todd#robin#jello cubes as a weird shoe print identifier#technically he did catch Batman and robin
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Had a dc x dp brain worm, feel free to use as a prompt <3
Sidenote, I decided to get fancy with the Ancients titles because of course I did lol
Shifting Where = Space (Danny)
Eternal When = Time (Clockwork)
Ever Onward = Speedforce (Ellie)
---
Bruce watched the footage again.
And again.
Again.
It didn’t make sense.
A week ago every television, radio, computer, phone - even the LED billboards - had been taken over to deliver a message. Across the United States. In every territory it held. Every military base. Down in the depths of the oceans where American submarines tried to creep past Atlantian patrols. In the endless cold white of Antarctica. Even far above in the International Space Station. Any place the United States Government had control over, any place one of its citizens found themselves. There was the message.
The face of an entity, human in shape but not in form. Hair as gleaming white as starlight, eyes bright as the twisting dance of the Aurora Borealis, skin as cold and blue as the tail of a comet. The entity wore armor as black as the depths of space with a crown to match, the later glinting and shifting with the twisting birth and death of galaxies. A cloak of nebulae danced down his shoulders, eclipsing the world beyond the entity entirely.
He named himself, jaw tight, expression serious.
High King Phantom of the Infinite Realms.
The Shifting Where. Son of the Eternal When. Father of the Ever Onward. His Epitaphs many and ever growing. The True Balance. The Bridge Between. The Devourer of Dark. The Last Child of Between. The Great One.
King of the Dead. King of the Infinite Worlds. King of so much more than Bruce had ever even known was possible.
King who had declared war. Who marshaled his endless armies. Who spoke of warnings, of efforts to reach a peace, of trying again and again and again to find a way to not plunge into violence and bloodshed. All things living come to call him King in time, he had no want or need to go out and hurry that along. But there were no options left to him now. He had tried for peace. He had been denied.
He would not see his people suffer any longer. Would not see those he’d sworn to lead and protect imprisoned by fools who had sworn themselves enemies to all the afterlives. Would no longer permit the vicious cruelty to continue.
The message was a final warning.
A final offer.
Three days, Phantom said. The United States government would have three days to release their prisoners, to begin the process of dismantling the laws that made death itself an illegal act.
If they refused, he would lead his endless armies personally in the war to come.
It had not been an idle threat.
Three days after the message, after Bruce and the rest of the Justice League scrambled to try and figure out just what it was it was all about, after Justice League Dark’s members shakily took turns explaining just how powerful the being that had gave that message was and how much danger the world was in should he and his armies march upon their world, war came.
Of all places, it began in a town in Illinois.
The sky shattered like broken glass above, Lazarus Green beyond, and the Dead poured out.
It started in Illinois.
It did not end there.
Bruce watched the footage of it all, eyes burning as he watched every second of CCTV footage, every shaky phone camera video, every news broadcast.
Most of them looked human enough. Changed in death, but recognizably human once. A pair of glowing teenagers on a motorcycle, a writhing shadow twisting about at their command sweeping chaos upon the battlefield. A young woman dressed to perform with hair a literal flame, burning bright blue and snapping furiously as she played devastation upon her enemies with her guitar. A child with corpse gray skin and luminescent green hair, flickering in and out of Bruce’s ability to see as if fighting against a law of existence to be visible, screaming orders to a skeleton crew from his place on deck of a 1700s ship that sailed through the sky, disappearing into clouds before raining down attacks from above.
There was more. Glowing skeletons dressed in the fashions of war spanning every culture going back millennia. Robots with weapons far beyond the technology they had even in the League. Creatures of myth and legend. Things of nightmares.
Leading them all, as he had promised, was Phantom.
He looked younger, smaller. Just a boy, really, a gangly teenager that hadn’t quite finished growing into himself. One holding power beyond anything Bruce could ever imagine, but still just a child as far as he could see, no older than Tim who’d just graduated high school. Frantic research found Phantom appearing as far back as human history, but those sightings had to have been after his death. Bruce can’t help but wonder how young the boy had been when he died, how much of that youth still clung to him through all these eons.
It wasn’t something he’d let him self consider normally, not with something like this.
A dangerous unknown appearing without warning and attacking with unimaginable power and seemingly endless forces. It was something that would normally eclipse everything else. Something that would make Bruce put aside the ache at seeing a face so young twisted in rage.
But.
He watched all the footage.
Civilians were put in the crossfire. Were shot at and endangered. Were left terrified and scrambling for safety in buildings that were rapidly being torn away by stray artillery.
But never by Phantom or his armies.
The dead, in fact, went very far out of their way to ensure civilians weren’t harmed. Sweeping people up out of the way of falling debris. Shielding them from attacks that would have most certainly killed a normal human. Some dead even helped evacuate, ushering a frightened and panicked populous to safety as gently as they were capable of. Some of the less human creatures - giant bear-like beings with horns and fangs and ice edging their burly frames - even rushed forward to offer medical aid.
When the sky shattered open and the armies of the dead swept in, they ignored the town below. They focused instead on what was discovered later to be the base of a secretive government agency. The dead’s fight focused on those individuals in sharp white suits, bearing weapons capable of actually injuring King Phantom’s people.
It was these agents that brought the fight to the streets to Amity Park. That fired recklessly and without thought or care to the casualties they could inflict. That didn’t seem to care if they killed a hundred civilians if it meant hurting just one of Phantom’s soldiers.
Bruce watched all the footage.
And again.
Again.
Phantom had declared war.
Phantom spoke in his message of being out of options, of attempting peace. Phantom gave three days time for the release of captives. Phantom lead armies who fought viciously but never once willingly harmed civilians.
Phantom declared war, but he didn’t want it.
“Amanda Waller has reached out.”
Bruce didn’t turn his attention from the screens before him, eyes burning as he followed Phantom as the King dove away from the middle of locked combat to shield a child from a pulse of green energy from something like a grenade another agent in white had carelessly thrown. The child was crying but unharmed. The left pauldron of Phantom’s armor cracked and shattered from a direct shot from the enemy he’d just been fighting that he’d turned his back on, a glowing green liquid uncomfortably like Lazarus Water dripped down from a smoldering wound.
Clark stepped up to stand beside him as he watched, face worn and tired. The League had missed the first battle, but they’d been quick to appear at the rest. Phantom and his army ignored them unless they put themselves purposefully in the way of the fight. They were, as Justice League Dark had warned, vastly out powered by the entities fighting. A hulking giant knight made of shadow riding a nightmarish steed had driven Clark six feet down into the dirt when he’d attempted to make his way to Phantom directly to try and talk to the king.
The depth Clark had ended up felt like a warning of what would happen if he tried to get close to the king again.
It probably was.
“She said they have intel for us.” A faint twitch of fingers, jaw clenching, voice flat in that way that told Bruce his old friend was fighting back anger with everything he had. “That she has options for how to deal with the insurgence.”
Bruce shut off the monitors.
He’d seen enough.
Now was time to get answers to just what, exactly, Amanda Waller and the US government had done to cause the Dead to rise and rage.
---
Part Two Part Three Part Four
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dpxdc#bruce wayne#clark kent#danny fenton#amanda waller#ghost king danny#ghost zone goes to war#space core danny#ancient of space danny#i'm gonna make ancient of the speedforce Elle a thing if it kills me lol#it just fits so well#Bruce's dad senses are tingling#Fright Knight might have been able to bat Clark away but if Bruce gets within a 100ft of Danny it's game over#Bat-Adoption Papers deployed#BatFam up a new member (or three or six)#Amanda Waller is not going to be as persuasive as she thinks she's going to be when it comes to getting the JL onboard with her plans
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What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.
He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.
And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.
But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.
And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.
It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.
It sucked.
Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.
Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.
A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.
And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.
Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.
Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.
And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.
But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.
None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.
The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.
And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.
Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn��t just leave you. Not with the way you were.
You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.
He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.
That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.
Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-
Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.
You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.
Shit. He was not prepared for this.
He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.
He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.
Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.
You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.
Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.
…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.
He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.
You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.
He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.
“Tim.”
Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.
“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.
Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.
“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.
“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.
“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.
“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?
You probably don’t care. You never had about money.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.
“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.
“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”
“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”
“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.
Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.
He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.
He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.
You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.
“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.
The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”
You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.
“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.
You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?
It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.
“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”
You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.
“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.
“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.
“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.
He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.
“Oh. Is he the chef?”
“He’s the pâtissier.”
You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.
“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.
“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”
Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”
You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.
Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.
The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.
He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.
“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.
You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.
“It’s my birthday.”
Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”
“Was that- that the wrong answer?”
“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.
“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”
Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them
“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.
“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.
“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.
Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.
You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.
“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.
“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”
You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.
“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.
“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.
It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.
“Who was that man?” you finally ask.
“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.
You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.
Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.
And you immediately fall sideways.
Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.
Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.
“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.
“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.
“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”
He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?
He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.
He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.
“You can let go of me now. Please?”
Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.
“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.
Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”
You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.
Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.
Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.
‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?
‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?
‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao
‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.
‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway
‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?
Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.
‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?
‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something
Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.
He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.
He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.
The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere x reader#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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DC X DP prompt
Bruce and Danny are long-lost brothers. Whether via a Rapunzel (kidnapped as a baby) or a switched a birth scenario, they're brothers, but don't know it.
Danny gets his powers, but something happens for him to either time travel to the future or be trapped in ice while time passes. In any case, he winds up in Gotham where he's a teenager while Bruce is in his 40s with the gaggle of children that has been accumulated.
Due to Danny's black hair and blue eyes, Gothamites have him pegged as a Wayne kid, so there are multiple kidnapping attempts. He either rescues himself or is rescued by the Bats.
The multiple occurrences of this teen getting napped triggers Bruce's detective senses and some of the adoption senses are tingling, too.
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Tiny Tim: hi Batman this was just an idea but maybe you shouldn’t punch criminals until they’re bleeding and unconscious?? I had to call the ambulance on one last week because he wasn’t breathing from my angle, and like, I don’t think that’s normal?? So um yeah maybe don’t do that unless you actually want to be wanted by the police for murder- actually would the justice league put you on their watchlist? I know they have a watch list because I’ve seen green lantern write Bruce Wayne’s name on on it because he annoyed him too much during an interview… (*rambles*)
Batman: hrn. (*Adoption senses tingling*)
#pov you are being lectured by a 12 year old#I like him a normal amount#tim drake#Batman#dc#fanart#my art#dc comics
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BatXFamily
by Smxsonic
Tim looked into the pod. This little girl couldn’t be more than 4 or 5, the tinting of the pod window made it impossible to figure out other features aside from the odd horn-like hair decorations adorning either side of her head.
Bruce's Adoption senses were tingling.
Words: 1644, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, SPY x FAMILY (Manga), SPY x FAMILY (Anime)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Anya Forger
Additional Tags: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a serial adopter, Bruce Wayne is stubbborn
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/41359557
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Ok I have a request 😁 Jason and y/n doing the dirty and being caught by Bruce? 😋
Beautiful 🤣
Questions
pairing: Jason Todd X Wayne!Reader
warnings: SMUT
words: 712
summary: in the request
note: sorry for the mistakes and the English.
...................................................................................
Their breaths were heavy and their eyes were filled with lust as they looked at each other catching their breath from the long kiss they had shared, their lips were already red and the air was filled with lust and desire.
Jason had been made to stay at home by Bruce after a fight between them and had used that situation to invite his girlfriend to the Manor, while his adoptive father ran around Gotham in a bat costume and his butler was in the batcave dealing with the batcomputer.
A giggle escaped Y/n' s mouth when her boyfriend tried to take her to his room without being able to stop kissing her body or lips for a moment, ending up tripping and falling on the carpet with her; "we're not doing it here, hottie" Jason chuckled softly as he continued to kiss her neck while quickly removing his shirt and returning to kissing her "why not? it wouldn't be the first time" he smiled at the sound of his girlfriend's giggle "it's not happening, Mr Todd, not again, last time Alfred almost caught us and you almost twisted your shoulder".
The boy nodded understandingly, grabbing Y/n by the thighs as he stood up, holding her in his muscular arms, walking, this time without stumbling, to the bed while returning the hungry kiss.
He slowly put her down, climbing on top of her, tracing kisses along her abdomen as he removed her pants and smirked at the sounds that came out of her mouth when he kissed her inner thigh.
Bruce was over the rooftops of Gotham and he couldn't stop thinking about the constant fights with his adopted son Jason, he didn't like fighting with his children but it happened all too often, maybe that was why sooner or later they all left the Manor, like his only daughter Y/n, biological daughter who had decided to get a flat for herself.
Moans of pleasure filled the room as the girl kept her eyes closed and arched her back at the jolts of pleasure Jason's tongue was giving her as he ate her out. She couldn't deny that she wasn't bad at this.
The black haired boy always managed to turn her on, especially when he was with his face buried between her thighs as he gave her pleasure and allowed her to run her hands through his dark curls and pulling them making him moan into her sex.
What Bruce wanted to do was to get home as soon as possible and talk to Jason, as hard as it might be sometimes, he felt a little guilty this time and it reminded him of the times it had happened with Dick, when his first adopted son was still Robin and not Nightwing.
And he succeeded, luckily, that night was a quieter night than the others, he didn't have to do much and managed to get back to the Batcave, without too much trouble, to park his Batmobile and remove his suit before going to check on Jason.
The sound of skin slamming against skin and the sound of moans were loud, Jason was going at a fast and rough rhythm, hitting all the right spots; his arms were wrapped around Y/n's body, which hugged his neck keeping his head pressed against her boobs as she hugged his hips with her legs, already feeling that tingle in her stomach that preceded the climax of her pleasure.
Jason was starting to feel it too when the door opened and Bruce's voice was heard "Jason-" the boy was in time to cover them with a blanket as he froze, paling, slowly looking over to where Bruce was standing, looking at them shocked and embarrassed "close the door!" were the words that brought Bruce back to his senses and made him close the door quickly. Waiting outside for them to finish and come out so he could talk to them, it was probably time for the speech too, he would probably ask for an explanation since he had no idea Jason and his daughter were together, what was Y/n doing at the Manor anyway? How long had they been together? Why hadn't he noticed or why hadn't they told him?
Taglist:
@gabile18
@trainer--taylor
@elizamalfoyy
@violentvaleska
#gotham x reader#gotham#jason todd#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#alfred pennyworth#batman
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DadsBatJokes AU TIDBITS, HEADCANONS, AND OTHER FINE LITTLE DETs.
[ Here are some personal headcanons dealing with Jack (Joker) & Bruce Wayne about how they handle being daddies well also doing the vigilante crime-fighting couple duo at the same time. Also some info on baby Malik too. ] {Despite not knowing how he got his pasty white skin condition or why he has green hair, Jack tends to feel this constant slight burning sensation on his skin almost like this ongoing tingling / a bit itchy sunburn type of feeling all over him.} {When Bruce & Jack are doing their vigilantism together as Batman & Joker dealing with criminals or other scumbags of Gotham they tend to sometimes get into disagreements or arguments when it comes the whole No Kill Code rule; while they often times usually tend to work well with each other there are moments…especially from Jack were he does his very best to be understanding of Bruce moral choice of not killing and he gets the reasons why he does it with what happen to his parents, but Jack deeply feels also thinks that certain people are better off dead instead of them making things in life worse & even more awful. They both try not to get too much into the topic sometimes since it always gets either one of them upsets or angry especially from Bruce side of things.} NOW ABOUT LITTLE BABY MALIK : { Malik is Bruce & Jack adopted 3 / 4 weeks old Infant son who was unfortunately left orphan due to a villain attack that ended up killing Malik biology parents. Its still unknown on which or what villain rouge causes said attack, but by luck also miracle the little guy was left with no major injuries. } { Malik full original birth name was Malik Anthony Mohammad, upon adoption it was later changed into Malik Mohammad-Wayne.} {Little Malik is of mixed race heritage. He’s about half Iranian & half Afro-Cuban with a semi-medium dark brown tanned skin tone along with little tuffs of tight curly brown hair. He has these patches of spotted freckles on both sides of his face also on his nose, under his eyes, and also he got freckles on his little baby bum } {While Bruce & Jack were more then happy to take in Malik as their son despite going through some difficulties and all in the progress, lets say they both were hit hard with a dose of fast delayed reality of Holy freaking shit! Were parents now. Even though Alfred was glad to give some pointers and tips here & there to help out, Bruce while super grateful…didn’t like having to always to relay on Alfred for parental help with his new son. Jack on the other hand didn’t mind some of the advice from Alfred…but he would much rather use google search on his smartphone because while he admire “Jeeves” help as he said to Bruce “Now darling you do know I love old Alfy just as much as you do but…really Brucie bud are you actually willing to take full complete baby advice from a man who came up in a time were they thought giving children real legit radiation in those kiddies chemistry kits is a good idea now” ; Bruce knew that Jack was only partly joking but he fire backs saying along the lines that Alfred has kept him alive for this long & dealt with him being batman so some of his advice couldn’t be that bad.} {Since Jack has a lot of nicknames & terms of endearment for Bruce/Batman, obviously it would only make sense for him to have plenty of ones for his son too. Which the following are: Malikee, little Prince, Sweetie-Malikee, Darling boy, sweet boy, Sunny-son, Boo boo bear, dotty butt, munchkin, tiny man, curly wormy, chub-chub-boob, Mon Chouchou (French for my cabbage) and little duckling ,} { Upon being adopted & taken in as a new member of the Wayne family there was of course big buzz from the Gotham media & tabloids about it…and unfortunately a good half of it was mostly negatively aim at Jack. Deeply questioning his parental abilities or even his capability of being a “Proper” parent at all due to his mental health issues also because of his past at Arkham and his slight bad history with Harley Quinn and their semi-kind of violent but mostly impulsive crime-sprees together, Bruce tries to obviously handle the mess & reassures Jack telling him that he shouldn’t worry about what those gossip news/articles say; Jack really doesn’t give a shit about what these pricks say about him cause well…he’s been pretty used to being called a lot of things & being seen as a freak & so forth.} {But one thing that’s truly upsets also highly pisses him off is that these Gotham elitists also these news tabloids assholes will actually insinuate that he would probably or likely do something to harm Malik, which just gets him so riled up on so many levels to even think that he would hurt his precious little prince.} {When it comes to diaper duty they both of course handle the task, although surprisingly Jack tends to deal with it a lot better then Bruce can. Especially when it comes to dealing with the more messy poopy diapers which Bruce while he still does it…there are certain times were he feels like he’s going to pass out, Bruce doesn’t get how Jack can handle it so well which Jack explains to him some of the things he dealt with also seen in Arkham which sometimes involved other inmates bodily fluids or gross smells you just make a face and move on. Jack often times teases Bruce on it saying along the lines of “Aww what’s wrong batsy can’t handle a full load can’t we~ Ha! “} {One of the things that Jack loves to do for Malik is sing to him, especially when he’s fussy or crying non-stop, most of the songs that Jack tends to sing for Malik are either old songs from the 1930s or 1940s / 50s also 60s along with some 70s & 80s thrown in the mix, One that Malik seems to be real fond of or usually puts him to sleep is the Everly Brothers song ‘All I have to do is dream’ Which Jack sings as a sort of special lullaby to Malik every night or when he’s super upset and can’t clam down.}
#batman x joker#jack napier#joker x batman#batjokes au#batjokes#dadbatjokes au#dadsbatjokes Au#the joker#joker#jack napier x batman#batjokes headcanons#batman telltale au#batman#bruce wayne#john doe telltale#batman telltale#joker headcanon#batjoke#joker headcanons
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Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 2
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 -
“How long has this been going on?”, Damians voice was flat. An outsider would maybe even perceive it as bored, but his brothers heard him. Damian Wayne was horrified. “Five and a half days now, to be precise. We have heard of the earthquake but we didn’t know about the metas. That’s why we’re here, save the citizens and catch the-” “How did we not know of any metas in Paris? Why are we only coming to help them now? Look at this place!”, Nightwing interrupted his father, in Jasons opinion rightfully so. Paris was not what he remembered from the posters and booklets he had seen. The city could have lost WW2 and even then it would probably look better than it currently did. “That’s international matters, we’re not even meant to be here but it got out of control so I asked Red Robin to investigate. Now stop complaining and start working.”, Bruce scolded his adoptives and, leaving no room for further interruption, began giving out orders. Dick, Jason, Stephanie and Damian were on citizen-saving duty, while Tim stayed at the manor and guided them per earpiece. Bruce, Cass, Duke and Barbara were on metawatch™, meant to collect more information on the cause of destruction, aswell as the heroes Tim had mentioned in his report. One final tech-check later the formerly crowded rooftop was deserted and Paris had a new crew of support in form of bat-themed vigilantes.
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Jason felt...sad. Deeply, desperatly heartbroken. He remembers feeling that way when he first discovered his fathers lack of avenging the death of his second son. But now? Of course, the sight he was currently enduring was horrific. He was sorry it had to come to this, frustrated his hands just weren’t enough to help every Parisian in pain. But that desperation? His inhumane tiredness? The way his whole body just felt numb, as if he were in so much pain his senses just wouldn’t- no couldn’t keep up? He knew it was out of place, his brothers were okay after all. Even Dick, the most emotional one out of his siblings, was much more focused than Jason. He knew it had to do with his soulmate, at least he guessed as much. The thought of them being somewhere in this city, hiding in one of those hyper-secure shelters he had seen while rummaging through the collapsed buildings and pulling out everyone he could find...it was unnerving. Though somehow he knew that that wasn’t the case.
Upon first taking in the sight of Paris’ ruins Red Hood just knew where he was and what streets he was aiming for. He knew where the shelters were, could guide the civilians towards them and even recognized some of the buidings, even though there was nothing left but dust and dirt. Jason had a gut feeling telling him that all those things weren’t actually his knowledge. It had to be his soulmates. They knew everything he needed to know about the city, they recognized it from above. But one piece of information, which now that Timmy has properly updated them about Paris’ situation should have been absolutely unavoidable, was missing. What do those shelters look like from the inside?
Why doesn’t his soulmate know?
----------------------------------------
Marinette was on autopilot. It has been four days since her parents death. She hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten and hasn’t stopped moving. Chat has already collapsed twice, which ended up with her carrying him to one of their recharging-shelters in the water and spending ungodly amounts of time trying to find food and water for him aswell as holding him in place while he slept, hoping to avoid his otherwise certain death by drowning. “What a sad end it would be”, the girl thought to herself, “all that effort, all that pain, and we could just loose it all to a petty accident. Not that there is much left to save...”
She wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but Ladybug, the hero and saviour of Paris, did no longer care about winning. She didn’t think of saving those people who were praying in her name, praying to her. She didn’t believe in god and oh Kwami did she not believe in herself. What she did believe in, though, was revenge. She wanted to kill that dusty bitch, even if it was the last thing she would do. Ladybug didn’t care about the victim. She knew for herself that if she were the one who did this to her beloved City of Love, she could no longer live with herself. She wanted to kill the akuma and even though a voice deep inside her was telling her otherwise, trying to stop her and arguing that this was not what her parents would have wanted, Marinette did not care. She was going to free the petite akuma and then tear it apart with her very own teeth. And guess who’s next? “That’s right, I’m coming for your ass, Shitmoth.”
Her voice woke the boy next to her. She hasn’t even realised how her train of thought has surfaced into the real world until Plagg, who was sleeping on the blondes stomach, started grumbling in despleasure about how his pillow shouldn’t be moving. Adrien sat up, not meeting Ladybugs eyes as he took the cheese she was handing him and giving it to the suddenly awake and alert Kwami who, as always, swallowed it whole. It was kind of nice, reassuring, watching him do something Adrien has formerly perceived as highly annoying. Back then, before “The End of the World”, as he now called it, has fallen from the sky. Or rather dug it’s way out from six feet under, since the main cause of destruction were the earthquakes. Destruction. Thinking of it made Adriens gag-reflexes act up. He hated this akuma. Not only for the obvious reasons. No, Adrien hated how useless he himself felt because of it. Why should he cataclysm something while he’s trying to stop Dirtface from doing so? It was highly contraproductive and Chat could not stand it. It was like watching the person you hate most, fan-girl about something you love. Kind of ruins the experience. Adrien didn’t know if he could use his power the way he did before, ever again. The only upside to it was, that he didn’t have to recharge as often and was therefore capable of protecting his partner whenever she had to hide.
As long as he didn’t fucking collapse from exhaustion, of course.
“I fainted again, didn’t I?”, he asked, shame crawling into his every pore. He was hoping to avoid that. The first time already came at the price of his identity, though luckily Ladybug has been quick enough to hide him before anyone else could catch a glimpse. Adrien wasn’t aware of it, but once Mari managed to securely position him on one of the upside-down-boats benches, she fell into a hysterical fit of laughter. She cried, she felt as if she were about to choke, as if she were about to finally explode into all those shattered pieces her heart now consisted of. Her laughter, though, showed none of these emotions. An outsider would be afraid to come near her, her parents would not be able to recognize her, she herself would have been disturbed by that sight. If the Joker were there to see it, he would have had to give his crown to her, for her laugh was scarier than any Jokers could ever be.
----------------------
Marinette just nodded and waited for Chat to suit back up. She didn’t think of his collapses as embarassing. Instead, Ladybug was highly impressed by his skill and endurance. She knew he didn’t have the luxury of someone taking the hit for her, sleeping and eating instead of her. For so long Mari has been trying to convice herself that she realy was, just like Adrien, just like Chat, alone. She wanted to believe that her soulmate was dead, wanted to live and not give a damn about that extra source of pain, which is the only thing she has ever thought of, when it came to feeling any kind of relationship towards her bonded. How could she love what brings her torture? How could she want to love the pain? Now though, with death being all around her, no-one she could turn to and time playing against her...Marinette was relying on them. She would not be able to surive this without her soulmate sleeping instead of her, would have probably fallen to the hands of malnutrition, if it weren’t for them feeding her through that inexplicable bond between their souls.
Adrien did not have that. He was born without a soulmate, which wasn’t anything unusual. After all, more than half of the worlds population were either born without a soulmate or simply existed during a different century than their significant others.
Just like Nino, just like Chloe, just like Nathaniel, Kagami and Luka: Adrien isn’t going to stay by Ladybugs side forever. She knew that now. That was okay, though. Because now she was certain of one thing. Her soulmate was alive and, according to her intensifying tiredness as well as that energizing tingling keeping her body up and working, they were on their way to save her.
That carries a tiny problem though.
She had to avoid getting help. She wouldn’t let it happen again.
--------------------------------------------------
HI! First of: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback, I am so fucking grateful you have no idea (or you do? idk. THANK YOU ILY)
This story has gotten much longer than I had planned but tbh I love it. There’s a part 3 and probably a part 4 coming, Though I’ll post it tomorrow ‘cause I gotta write it and like, live life a bit.
Critique and any kind of feedback is very welcome!
I will most probably continue Jasonette July, this is so much more fun than I expected. So see you tomorrow \o/
Thanks for reading^^
P.S.: There's finally some proper Jasonette on the horizon☄
#jasonette#jasonette july#jasonette soulmate au#soulmate au#batfam#maribat#maribat fanfic#jason todd#jason todd x marinette dupain-cheng#marinette dupain-cheng#soulmate bruises au#ladynoir#red hood#ladybug#ml ladybug#angst
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Life and Death (PART 1)
Fandom: Dc comics/ Young Justice
Pairing: Kaldur’ahm/ Aqualad x OC
Prompt: Avery’s time has come and she accepts her fate of departing from the world early. However, there are those who don’t accept her fate.
Warnings: Character Death, Angst
Emma @call-me-emma
Lily @guns-n-lilies
Avery’s life wasn’t like most.
From her earliest memory, she always had the ability to manipulate electricity. As did her father and her older brothers with their own abilities. That was the norm in the Yu family household. She learned early on how to develop her powers as well as develop as a person.
She learnt that her family wasn’t normal and there was a deep history to them. When she became older, Avery became what one would classify as a “hero”. The life she led was never normal.
However, there was more to Avery’s life then what you were just told.
For as long as she could remember, she was always in the hospital. Born prematurely and with a weak body, her childhood was different but Avery was thankful for being born into a loving family.
Or so she thought.
Avery could remember the taste of poison that was in her milk, one night. Her aunt, with her smiles and gestures, seemed caring and concerned to Avery’s eyes but there was much more than that. The girl remembered the harsh muttering her aunt gave, letting loose the spite she had against Avery’s mother. For being fortunate with a loving husband and children, and wealth while her younger sister was dealt with the opposite.
Her aunt believed her luck would change when she met a man, who radiated charisma and had more wealth then the average business man, whose intelligence showed with his words and decisions. She believed he was finally her golden ticket and the thing that would finally triumph her place over Avery’s mother.
But that all changed when her plan to flaunt her boyfriend to her sister. Instead, her sister’s family accepted him with open arms and brought more fortune.
Avery remembered listening to her aunt confess her inner thoughts while the poison spread through her body. She could remember her senses numbing and the darkness appearing.
When her aunt deemed the poison wasn’t working fast enough, she decided to stab the girl’s heart.
Now there was a scar over Avery’s heart; a reminder of that night and her aunt’s “mysterious” death. The effects of the poison still effecting her as Avery grew older.
A few years had passed since that night and her aunt’s “suicide”.
Within those few years, there was fighting and yelling and Avery learned how to become stronger. For herself then others. One of her uncles, Ra’s al Ghul, trained her to become stronger and when she was older, Avery was convinced.
Her uncle persuaded her to help his cause and Avery being the naïve, innocent girl, she agreed. Her uncle never did anything that Avery deemed wrong but she was mistaken.
Avery remembered standing on one of the highest buildings in Gotham and the wind was blowing harshly against her. Her long raven hair fluttered through the wind’s tresses with the smell of humidity surrounding her. Thunder and lightning crackled which caused Avery’s entire body to tingle.
She remembered her uncle had placed his hand gently but firmly onto her thin shoulders, telling her how she was saving the Earth and was ridding the city of the filth.
Avery only saw death.
She realized she was yes, helping the Earth in a way, but she was also killing people. Destroying lives.
Then Batman came.
Then there was a fight.
Then Avery had reached inside herself and summoned all the power she could to create a storm larger than ever, spreading the cure for the virus that her uncle created.
She had saved the effected people and provided others with the immunity.
But at a cost.
The act of spreading the cure pushed her body to her limits and she crumbled.
Now she was closer to death.
Avery knew that from the start she wouldn’t live long. She accepted it and lived her remaining days as possible.
Those remaining days were becoming shorter and shorter.
She didn’t know exactly when her health started to decline but the signs were there.
It became difficult to rise out of bed, taking her a bit longer. Her energy was much lower and her appetite slowly waned. Her skin became paler while her muscles started to strain. Her thin body became even thinner and she slowly saw her bones peeking out.
If Avery didn’t wear the number of layers as she did, people would’ve known very early on. Her fingertips started to shake under the smallest weight and the pain became difficult to deal with.
She stopped taking painkillers when it was clear she taking too much for the average person.
The throbbing in her head became a regular sensation.
She would’ve thought it was another of her relapses but when she started to cough blood more and more, that were harsher than before.
With laboured breath, she stared at herself in the mirror.
“It’s time” she said with a raspy voice.
The people that surrounded her, started to question her more and more about her health. How she was not looking well and if there was anything they could do to help.
Avery only smiled and tried to brush their concerns away.
After all, what could they do to death?
Avery lived her remaining days to the best as she could with the people she loved. She spent time with her brothers, her family at the Wayne Manor, the Young Justice team, and the love of her life: Kaldur.
She didn’t miss the concerned glances they threw at her. The hesitation they had when they spoke and the tension within their shoulders. It was almost impossible not to notice their emotions through the fading link she had with them.
It was time to tell them when Kaldur helped Avery go to her parents’ graves. Bruce, her guardian and one she learned to call a second father, followed close behind. Her brothers and sisters also piled out, both blood and bond.
Dick helped get the wheelchair out of the trunk and helped set it up. All while Avery was carried in Kaldur’s arms, firm and safe. She could feel his warmth penetrating her cold body and she knew that was one of the impending signs.
When they got closer to Avery’s parents’ grave, it was time to tell them after she said her words.
“I’m dying and I’ll be joining my parents soon” said Avery.
There was a stillness in the air and Avery turned her wheelchair around. She could feel the avalanche of emotions and it was difficult to hold back the blood from coughing out of her lungs.
Her brothers looked at her and their mouths thinned. They nodded and they hugged her, for what may be the last time they could since she was born.
Avery looked with tired green eyes to her adoptive family. Bruce’s face was stern but she could see his heart breaking in his eyes. Dick and the others looked at her with shock but nothing came out.
Alex, her best friend, looked at her with watering violet eyes and his face breaking. He hung his head and pulled his purple hoodie over his head, his face in his hands.
Emma, a friend and now a sister, looked at her with disbelief and tears falling down her cheeks. Her face contorted into sadness and she could her starting to cry.
Lily, also a friend and now a sister of Avery, had her hands over her mouth. Avery could hear her crying as her two sisters started to cry into each other, processing what they had heard. And what those words meant truly.
Avery then turned to Kaldur, her leader and the love of her life. He looked at her with shock and Avery gave him a smile.
Kaldur knew this was coming.
Avery told him early on before they decided to be in a romantic relationship. When they were just teammates. He knew that the time they had together was short but with no idea when exactly. Yet they still decided to try.
“Thank you” said Avery and Kaldur broke.
He fell into her arms and buried his face into her shoulder. Whether he cried or not, only he and Avery knew. Ever slowly, Avery hugged her loved ones together with her frail arms.
That was 4 months ago.
Now, Avery lay in her room in the Wayne Manor.
She didn’t want to be in a hospital to spend her final days. She was sick of hospitals and there was no way she was going to die there. From birth to as long as she could remember, her life always involved with hospitals.
An IV drip was settled next to her with and with machines, which Avery couldn’t struggle to remember. There was a familiar beeping of her heart in the background but her hearing diminished quickly.
Kaldur took residence next to her, his arm rested around her shoulders. Avery’s head lay half against the mountain of pillows and onto Kaldur’s shoulder.
Avery had her eyes closed but she could envision her surroundings. Kaldur hummed softly under his breath, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. His hand engulfing her own.
Avery felt so cold but she thought back on her life. They were filled with nothing but warmth. The Young Justice team had visited her periodically, spending much time as possible with her. Sometimes some of the Justice League members also visited as well. Wally and Barry visited her, their speedster personality always bringing a smile to her face but she sense their sadness. M’gann and J’onn visited her with Clark and Conner to which Avery joked about aliens visiting her.
The people she came to know and love all visited her. When there was no one visiting her, her other brothers were there.
Dick Grayson or Nightwing to others, always brought a smile on her face. The two laughing at old times and at jokes.
Jason came and read the stories they loved, acting them out sometimes. Her eyes too tired to read the words and her hands too weak to flip the pages.
Tim came by and brought her movies to watch and games to play. They would develop theories and ideas to which they spent many hours on. Their time together always ending with them sleeping against each other, exhaustion taking over them.
Damian, her ‘nephew’, visited her at night when the others were on patrol or when Dick didn’t drag him to visit her. They didn’t do much but only hugged each other, the two speaking in a mash of English, Arabic, and Chinese. Her memory and mouth struggled to remember words in just one language.
Bruce…the person that took her in when her parents were murdered by the Joker. He stayed strong and was her pillar through everything. But when it was just the two of them, when he would sit by her bed and hold her hand, Avery knew. She knew Bruce cared for her like everyone and could see the gears in his brain working, trying to find a way to fix this. They didn’t speak much when Bruce visited but there may have been several tears. Who cried exactly, was a mystery.
Between everyone, Alfred was always there. Providing hot cups of tea and delicious food. They made small talk and Alfred helped make things less unbearable. She could always count on Alfred. Especially when she would be no longer here.
Emma and Lily, two people she learned to call her dearest friends and as her sisters. They went through a lot together and learned about each other in the process. A lot of things had happened but that only brought them closer.
Avery was glad she met them.
One day, Lily and Emma both visited Avery in her room. They talked and joked, talking about anything then the current situation at hand. They gossiped and dreamed but they slipped up every so often, jolting the two back to reality.
Avery would summon as much strength as possible and hold her sisters’ hands, with a small smile on her thinning lips. Both Emma and Lily would end their visit with Avery by placing their foreheads against Avery, using their powers respectively to create illusions and visions.
What they were, Avery wouldn’t detail specifically only that they were filled with love.
Throughout all of these, Kaldur would visit her whenever possible. Sometimes they spoke, sometimes they don’t. Their hands were always joined together and there were times that the two would fall asleep, in each other’s arms. Avery would fall asleep listening to Kaldur’s heartbeat like a lullaby while Kaldur would sleep reassured with his ear pressed against her chest.
Avery opened her eyes when she felt distress. She felt the grip of Kaldur’s hand gripping her hand tightly as his entire body shook.
This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Raising her head as best as she could, Avery reached up and pressed her lips against Kaldur’s.
She wished she could kiss him harder, as if she could tell him all the passion and love she had for him in one kiss. Like she did before.
Kaldur looked into Avery’s eyes and saw the remaining warmth and love in them. He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to hers, assaulting her with love.
The days were spent like that until the day came.
Avery could feel her heartbeat slowing and she could sense the others slowly coming together as one. She didn’t tell them but it wasn’t like she could. Her voice was too weak and it took everything to speak.
There was a certain aura filling the entire manor.
Avery stared up to the ceiling and thought on everything. She left letters that the others would find and read, after her death. Her final words of everything. Avery also told everyone that when she died, she was to be cremated immediately.
She wasn’t sure but she took in the possibility, that her uncle, Ra’s al Ghul would take her body and use the Lazarus Pit.
She had accepted her fate for a long time. She was prepared for this since then.
As Avery thought back on everything, she was taken away from her mind when a knock came through the door. Turning her head, she heard the door being softly opened and closed.
A smile appeared on her lips and saw Kaldur making his way over to her. Avery raised her shaking hand up and Kaldur immediately held it, bringing her fingertips to his lips. “Avery” he called out softly.
“My Kaldur’ahm” Avery cooed softly.
She could feel Kaldur smile against her fingertips but they disappeared quickly. He pressed her palm against his cheek while Avery still continued to smile.
There were no words spoken out loud but looking at each other, there was no need. The door opened and Avery saw Lily peering through before she slipped herself in.
Avery raised a hand out to her friend as she spoke.
“The others?” asked Avery, her voice waning.
“Downstairs…” replied Lily as she knelt down on her knees. Her hands holding onto Avery’s other hand. “I sneaked upstairs to check up on you.”
Avery nodded and let out a small chuckle, “Make sure you don’t bring the manor down” said Avery.
“Of course” replied Lily and Kaldur.
Avery smiled and took in a deep breath.
“Make sure to take care of yourselves...and the others” said Avery, her green eyes glancing at the two of them.
‘Ah…I can’t move my head’ thought Avery.
Kaldur nodded and Avery could feel herself slipping away.
Avery looked at Kaldur and slowly blinked her eyes.
It was time.
Kaldur nodded before he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Avery could feel her lips tingling as tears slipped past her eyes.
“I love you” said Kaldur.
“I love you too.”
Avery felt Lily place her hand onto her forehead, a few stray tears falling onto her while closing her eyes. Instead of darkness, Avery found herself in a meadow of flowers.
She thought it was the afterlife but Avery remembered the sensation. This was a vision that Lily had.
Avery looked at herself and saw a healthier version of her. She looked at her fingers and the life in her. Several pink flower petals fell into her hands and Avery looked up to see a cherry blossom tree.
She gaped in awe at the size of it and looked around and saw even more cherry blossom trees.
She could felt her legs being brushed with soft fur and found her two cats, Chairman Meow and Mrs. Friskers by her side. Avery ran her hands through their fur, a soft smile onto her face.
There were people calling out to her and Avery looked to see all the people she came to know and love, her friends and family.
Avery smiled and got up before running towards them with more energy than she ever felt. There was no pain in her limbs and she could breathe in the sweet air. She played and laughed with everyone before she felt started to feel tired.
Very tired.
Ever slowly, Avery went back to the Sakura tree she was under. She saw her parents and they smiled at her, opening their arms to her. They spoke to her and Avery forced her tired body up the hill, to her parents. It had been so long being in her mother’s or her father’s arms. She missed her mother’s warmth and how lovingly her mother held her. Avery’s father gently patted her back, like he had always did to soothe her.
Avery felt warm. Protected. Loved.
Ever so slowly, Avery closed her eyes and drifted off from the world….
Avery couldn’t hear the screams and wails or the people calling out to her.
She was gone.
Note: This is my first time writing something on Tumblr. Forgive me if there are too many mistakes. It’s been a while since I wrote anything. Thank you for reading this!
#avery#Sprite#my OC#kaldur x oc#dc comics imagine#young justice oc#yj#yj oc#young justice imagine#angst#life and death series#series#kaldur#kaldur'ahm#aqualad#yj aqualad
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Grave Robbers
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oU0ghLk
by ellabellabugz
When the alarm goes off at Jason's grave, Bruce didn't expect to find a kid.
Words: 1418, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton & Jason Todd, Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Danny goes to Jason's Grave, Danny is a great liar (totally), Bruce's adoption senses are tingling, Christmas gift, Jason Todd doesn't know what to do with this kid, everyone is shook, Danny Fenton is a Little Shit, Rich people want to adopt Danny
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/oU0ghLk
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Grave Robbers
by ellabellabugz
When the alarm goes off at Jason's grave, Bruce didn't expect to find a kid.
Words: 1418, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton, Jason Todd
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton & Jason Todd, Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson
Additional Tags: Danny goes to Jason's Grave, Danny is a great liar (totally), Bruce's adoption senses are tingling, Christmas gift, Jason Todd doesn't know what to do with this kid, everyone is shook, Danny Fenton is a Little Shit, Rich people want to adopt Danny
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/43869669
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Phantom Vs Building
by ellabellabugz
Danny accidentally knocks over a building...
In Gotham
Words: 1065, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Bruce Wayne
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: dp/dc week 2022, danny phantom - Freeform, Danny Fenton - Freeform, Bruce Wayne - Freeform, Danny knocks a building over, That building happens to be Wayne Enterprise, Bruce's adoption senses are tingling, Vlad Plasmius kind of sucks
source https://archiveofourown.org/works/43118733
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Phantom Vs Building
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/x4hQ71A
by ellabellabugz
Danny accidentally knocks over a building...
In Gotham
Words: 1065, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Bruce Wayne
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Vlad Masters, Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: dp/dc week 2022, danny phantom - Freeform, Danny Fenton - Freeform, Bruce Wayne - Freeform, Danny knocks a building over, That building happens to be Wayne Enterprise, Bruce's adoption senses are tingling, Vlad Plasmius kind of sucks
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/x4hQ71A
0 notes
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BatXFamily
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3sXQFOg
by Smxsonic
Tim looked into the pod. This little girl couldn’t be more than 4 or 5, the tinting of the pod window made it impossible to figure out other features aside from the odd horn-like hair decorations adorning either side of her head.
Bruce's Adoption senses were tingling.
Words: 1644, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, SPY x FAMILY (Manga), SPY x FAMILY (Anime)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Alfred Pennyworth, Anya Forger
Additional Tags: Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a serial adopter, Bruce Wayne is stubbborn
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3sXQFOg
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