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schrijverr · 4 months

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We’re Adopted?!?

When Bruce’s kids end up on the Watchtower due to a set of unforeseen circumstances, Jason first tries to get the League to believe that they’re all biologically related to Bruce. He tries to avoid having Jason give everyone a sex talk by reminding him that he’s adopted. This leads to all his kids pretending that this is the first time they’ve heard of it, much to the horror of the League and the exasperation of Bruce.

Based on this post.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

It finally happened. After years of successfully keeping the League from finding out about all the kids he has, they’ve finally met. And in the most dramatic way too. In a way it’s very suited for their family, but that is a detail Bruce had hoped to keep from the League.

However, it happens anyway and now his two teams have met.

They’re sitting in the common area of the Watchtower when the Zeta-Tube suddenly whirs to life and the Batmobile comes crashing into the area. It spins to a stop as if it had been in the middle of a chase, before the teleporter snatched them off the streets.

Bruce gets out of his chair and makes his way over. He isn’t too worried about them, since they’re here and while that might have meant danger before, they are safe with him now. If one of them had been terribly injured or left behind, they would be screaming and yelling already and that isn’t happening yet.

His eyes meet Tim’s, who is standing next to the car, his costume a little singed, hair askew and looking a little worse for wear. Apologetically he greets: “Hi, Justice League, promise we have a good reason to be here.”

For Bruce, this is quite normal chaos and these are his kids, but he notices that the Justice League has formed a defensive barrier around the Batmobile. They perceive his kids as a threat. It’s so absurd that he is quiet for a moment.

In that moment, Superman steps forward and demands to know: “Who are you and how did you get up here?”

“With a car no less,” Hal adds, sounding a little impressed, which doesn’t make Bruce smug in the slightest, no sir.

He is about to tell everyone to stand down when the doors of the car open and his kids come spilling out. It’s a bit of a car clown moment with how many vigilantes fit inside.

Dick nearly falls out of the side, with Damian following after him. Both of them have soot in their hair and scratches on their faces.

A singed Jason stumbling out on the other side as he loudly complains: “This is the last time we’re letting Spoiler drive.”

Steph’s costume is a little flame tattered too as she swings open the driving side and says: “I’d like to see you do better, asshole. At least it wasn’t like Signal’s first driving attempt.”

“Hey,” Duke exclaims, coming out of the car after Jason, looking a little banged up. “Just because I didn’t know where the missiles were, doesn’t mean it was terrible.”

“I didn’t eject anyone,” Steph pouts.

“Yes, you did!” Duke exclaims. “You very much did.”

“Well, not by accident,” Steph argues. “It was part of the plan.”

The other front door is now open and Cass is next to him. He puts an arm around her and pulls her into his cape. Then he decides to step in, because it seems the League doesn’t know what to do when they’re not viewed as an authority.

“What happened?” he asks.

Six heads snap his way, as if his kids had forgotten where they were. It wouldn’t be the first time, so he doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes.

Tim reports: “The Riddler broke out of Arkham, along with like a bunch of b-rate villains. They caused havoc, but we rounded them all up. Riddler took the time it took us to round them up to set up his trap. He went with a fire theme.”

“Is he contained now?” Bruce asks, a little concerned.

“Yeah, no problem, B, we got ‘em,” Steph assures him casually with a thumbs up.

“Sorry, uhm, excuse me, Batman, do you know these people?” Clark asks in that awkward, polite way of his.

Bruce contemplates for a second what he should answer. Then decides that he wants to know what happened and doesn’t want to deal with questions. So he just says: “My associates. Now report, how did you end up here?”

“Associates,” Jason snorts.

However, he is ignored by his siblings as Damian reports: “We have caught the Riddler, however we did so without solving the last of his riddles. So, he sprang his trap after we took him down and we became the target of some missiles.”

“Oh my god, are you okay?” one of the League members exclaims under their breath.

“Tt, of course we’re okay,” Damian spits back. “Unlike you, we have been trained.”

“And we learned our lesson; always solve all of Riddler’s riddles,” Steph grins, giving them all a thumbs up.

“I already said that, but who listens to Red Robin? Nobody,” Tim complains.

Before it can turn into a squabble fest again, Bruce clears his throat and Dick jumps in to get them back on track, explaining: “We tried to get away in the Batmobile, but we couldn’t outrun it forever. So we decided the best way to escape was to use the Zeta-Tube connection.”

“It was great, Spoiler sent replacement flying so he could put in the code,” Jason laughs.

“I wanted to beam us to the Cave, but with the amount of time we had, just taking us to the most recently used coordinates was smarter,” Tim explains. He checks his arm computer then says: “The chatter on the police coms is that the missile made impact where we disappeared. No one was in the area when it went off, but there is property damage. And a few of the new recruits are convinced we’re supernatural, since none of our remains are being found.”

That last bit gets a few laughs from the assembled vigilantes. Most of Gotham PD have resigned themselves to the fact that the protectors of Gotham are humans, who seemingly pull of the impossible from time to time.

However, there are always newer members, who come up with great conspiracies about how they aren’t human and that’s why they pull it off. Bruce knows that it’s a bit of a game between his kids to see who can get them to believe the weirdest shit about them.

So, he just lets them have the moment of amusement after what must have been a highly tense moment.

Then he asks: “Where is Bluebird?” since he hasn’t seen Harper among the crowd, which is weird, because she’s on the night shift, while Duke is on the day shift.

“She the one, who figured out where Riddler was and caught him,” Dick says proudly. “She was escorting him to Arkham when she noticed he was being off. Without her we would’ve never made it to the Batmobile on time.”

Bruce makes a mental note to thank her for saving his other kids when he sees her.

“We also let Oracle know we’re okay, so she can inform her and Batwoman when she gets back from her mission, just in case she saw the news,” Dick goes on.

“Wait,” they get interrupted by Hal. “How many more heroes are you going to pull out of your sleeve? What happened to Mr. I Work alone? Am I being crazy here? Why are you all just standing there?”

Clark says: “Well, it’s obvious Batman knows these people and they do not seem like a threat to us, so I was going to wait until they’d given a report before demanding answers.”

“And we will demand answers, Batman,” Diana adds, making Bruce swallow a little. “We are your friends, we hoped there would be some trust there. You seem to have a whole different team of warriors. That is something you share.”

“Don’t mind, B, he just comes with permanently built in paranoia, it’s nothing against you,” Dick tells them.

In the background, Jason snorts: “Did you hear that guys? We’re his team of warriors. His associates.”

Damian huffs at that: “These imbeciles obviously do not know what they are on about and I refuse to be referred to as such, when I am the blood son.”

“I don’t know, Robin,” Steph laughs. “It almost starts to feel like he cares. I mean, he obviously has been bragging about us.”

“He has not spoken a word about us,” Damian exclaims.

In the background, Bruce can feel a headache coming. He has tried to keep his kids away from the League for their own safety. They can’t use his kids against him, should they become compromised, if they don’t know they exist.

However, they do know now and not only that, it seems like his kids are here to cause trouble on purpose now that they finally get to meet, who they refer to as, ‘his work friends AKA the only friends he has’. Delightful.

Indeed, the League has picked up on the words Jason set Damian up for, because Hal repeats: “Blood son?”

And Clark frowns: “They do seem quite young.”

“Batman, are you employing babes to protect Gotham with you?” Diana exclaims in horror.

“I am highly trained, who dares to call me a baby,” Damian protests immediately and while his siblings would usually laugh at him, they now also feel offended.

All of them have had to defend their age to people, including Bruce. They don’t like being questioned. So all of them are falling over themselves to defend their position as protectors of Gotham.

Bruce decides to help them, explaining: “There are more teen heroes, most of you have or had a sidekick. These vigilantes keep each other safe, they have the safety of back up and I also provide good gear. They’re not running around without a clue of what to do.”

“Ahww, I knew you cared, old man,” Steph coos, while Cass taps a genuine thank you in Morse code on his arm.

“Batman, I appreciate that you look out of them, but most sidekicks have had superpowers that are related to one of the heroes and sought out a mentor to help,” Clark says gently. “You have no powers, where did you get these kids?”

And in hindsight, he should have known better than to hesitate. However, at the times, he does, because the circus, the streets, the neighbor’s and some villains, are not really good answers to that question, no matter how true. And he doesn’t know if he wants to explain.

Still, he has to admit that he melts slightly when Cass speaks up to say: “His kids.”

Plus, it’s kind of funny how most League member jump out of their skin at the sudden voice, since none of them had spotted Cass before. Not even those with superhuman senses. His daughter is so talented.

Arguably the funniest reaction is Hal, who shrieks: “Where the fuck did you get these kids, Spooky!” as he violently startles backwards.

However, Jason jumps on the opportunity, sending Bruce a shit eating grin before he does (he might still be wearing the helmet, but Bruce knows him). He says: “Well, when two people love each other very much, they-”

No, just no. Absolutely not.

The League already thinks him to be a bit of a weirdo, who is steeped in paranoia. They respect him, but they’re always a little wary of him too (which is good in a way, he doesn’t want them close to his secret identity with the threat they could pose). Still, he doesn’t want them to think he practically bred an army of shadow-y vigilantes to protect Gotham. He’d never live it down.

“Hood,” he quickly cuts Jason off, before he can continue with his nonsense. Then he tiredly reminds him: “You’re adopted.”

“WHAT!” Jason shrieks, ripping his helmet off to reveal a shocked and betrayed face even with his domino mask. “How could you keep that from me?”

It seems like everyone needs a second to recover and process after the outburst. However, Jason is gaining steam and dramatically barrels on: “For years. Years! I lived with you, you fed me, you cared for me. You are my dad. At least you were. Was that all a lie? Some ruse? How- Why- I deserved to know.”

Bruce is shocked, unable to form words. His relationship with Jason has been rough, though getting better. It’s still tentative, though, so to hear Jason refer to him as dad throws him off in one of the best ways. Until he realizes Jason is fucking with him.

Even then, it is kind of nice that Jason is messing with him. When he looks, he sees that Jason is having fun under the mask of betrayal. It doesn’t have a bitter undertone, like it would have a few months ago. Instead, it feels a little like all the times Jason messed with him in front of Commissioner Gordon, back when he was Robin.

So, later Bruce will cut himself some slack for basking in that feeling for long enough that the others catch on and join in.

It starts with Steph, who has never claimed him as her father a day in his life, but will always be committed to a bit. She sniffles: “I can’t believe you’d lie to our brother like that. Soon you’ll tell us we’re all adopted.”

“Spoiler,” Bruce warns, hoping to deter anyone else from joining in.

That doesn’t happen, instead, Dick pulls Duke into a hug and exclaims: “Yeah, next you’ll tell us Signal here isn’t our half brother, like you didn’t leave his mother at the altar.” He narrows his eyes and adds: “I was the flower boy too, I can’t believe you did that to her.”

He sees Duke’s calculating gaze, flitting between Dick and himself and knows it’s only a matter of time before he picks a side, so he grunts: “Signal, don’t-”

“She talked about it until her death. Don’t tell me she made it up,” Duke suddenly says, picking the side of his siblings. Bruce would be more glad about him getting along with them, if it weren’t for the fact that in joining him, he left Bruce.

“You monster,” Jason butts back in again, not having had the spotlight in too long. “Look what you’ve done. You can’t just drop something like that on us. You can’t just pull the rug out from under us. Adopted. Or am I the only one? Huh? Is that it? Are all of them your real kids except for me?”

It’s a little too close to home, so Bruce stumbles: “No, of course, you’re always my kid. But this isn’t news to you. To any of you.”

“So we are all adopted?” Tim shrieks, stumbling forwards to clutch Bruce’s arm. “Those people you took me away from, were they my real parents? Did you lie to me?”

And this is just unfair. They’re not allowed to gang up on him like this and be dramatic. They know he doesn’t know what to do when they get like this. He gave them a home, he kept them as safe as he could, he loves them. What has he done to deserve this?

Dick and Duke are still embracing each other and Bruce is pretty sure Dick is weeping. Steph is definitely fake crying, while Jason is consoling her. Tim is still clutching his one arm, babbling about being taken from his parents.

Cass is his favorite right now, because she isn’t playing along with her sibling, just quietly huddling into his side. Damian would share the spot, but Bruce knows that the only reason he isn’t playing along, is because he doesn’t know what their game is and how he can use it to his advantage.

Indeed, he joins in – though not entirely purposefully – because he asks: “Father, I am your true son right? I am the blood son, not these imbeciles.”

Jason is definitely hiding a snort as a sob and in that moment, Bruce is tempted to disown Damian, just so he doesn’t have to deal with all this.

He can see how shocked the Justice League is, their eyes wide with horror, none of them having truly recovered at the sudden appearance at a gaggle of kids, who are now seemingly breaking down over the surprise news of being adopted.

He should’ve just let Jason give the League a sex talk.

So, he is tempted to not recognize Damian as his own, however, he knows how much Damian values his heritage and how insecure he is about his spot in the family. And he does look genuinely worried about what’s happening. So, Bruce has to sigh and reward the vulnerability that he shows with compassion, saying: “Yes, Robin.”

Jason lets out a pained groan and says: “So it is true? We really are adopted?” then breaks down crying. It’s almost impressive how well he can sob on demand. How well all of them can, Bruce wonders when they learned that and who taught them that.

The League, meanwhile has also apparently reached their limits and Hal suddenly explodes: “Fucking hell, Bats. Is that how you’re telling them that? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Around him all the others start to nod in agreement and Bruce knows that some of those shaking shoulders of his kids aren’t sobs but laughter at this point. He wonders if it’s wrong to return any of them, despite knowing that he would never give any of them up, even with all the gray hairs they’re giving him.

He does think about it though, especially when Clark cautiously says: “It seems unnecessarily cruel, Batman. They’ve just been chased through the streets by missiles. You could have waited.”

“Yes, it is very cruel,” Diana agrees. “And I do not know you to be cruel.”

Usually, Bruce has an image to maintain, but that image includes him working alone and having no sense of humor or humanity, so obviously it’s incorrect. Besides, any reputation he might have had has just been ruined by his kids. He doesn’t have to take this judgment from his friends.

So, he throws his hands up and, bordering on a whine, says: “I’m not cruel. They all know they’re adopted. All of them were over nine when it happened. Hell, not even all of them are adopted. Not all of them wanted to be. They know! They’re just messing with me.”

It’s quiet after his outburst.

Both the League and his kids blink for a few times. It’s clear that the League doesn’t know what to believe, but his kids are luckily done with the chaos. Though, Bruce doesn’t know if he’s happy with that when he sees some of their faces morph into grins.

Dick decides to put him out of his misery first, letting go of Duke to skip forwards and sling an arm around Bruce, which he grudgingly allows. He never says no to hugs from his kids, no matter what stunt they’ve just pulled.

“He’s right,” Dick smiles at everyone. Then he jokingly tugs on one of the ears on his cowl – something he has done since his early days as Robin – as he teases: “He didn’t mind. Right, B? You are a softie under there.”

“Who cares if he minds,” Jason says loudly. “That was hilarious, did you see everyone’s faces when replacement told them he’d stolen him out of his home. Golden. I’m gonna ask O for that footage the second we get back.”

Now the League is looking at them with even more confusion. Unsure of what to do now.

Bruce wants to let them suffer, but he also doesn’t want to give his kids room to do something else to embarrass him. So, he takes the reigns saying: “Just to clear it all up; this is Nightwing, my oldest.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Dick gives the League a bright smile.

“My second or third oldest – we’re not sure – Red Hood,” Bruce continues on, gesturing to Jason, who just gives them a salute. “And, again, the second or third oldest, Black Bat.” She waves at them, startling some again, since they’d forgotten she was there. Hm, they might have to do another stealth and awareness training day.

“This is Spoiler, she is not one of mine technically,” he continues on introducing everyone there.

Steph grins at all of them and says: “I eat his food and steal his money, but I’m not having him sign shit. All of the perks, none of the accountability.”

“And how you remind me of that,” Bruce sighs, before gesturing to Tim and saying: “This is Red Robin, my fourth kid. He is adopted, but also emancipated. And I did not steal him away from his parents.”

“Technically, he did, because they were kinda shitty, but only legally when they died,” Tim corrects, which is not necessary and Bruce will be answering questions about that for months. Judging by the smug look on his face, Tim knows.

Deciding not to engage for now, he moves on to Duke. “This is Signal, he is my ward. He normally works the day shift.”

“Hello,” Duke squeaks awkwardly.

“And this is Robin, he is the youngest,” Bruce finishes his introductions.

“I am the blood son of the Bat and the one true heir,” Damian exclaims proudly.

“Yeah, yeah, we know, brat,” Jason rolls his eyes. “You were once B’s sperm. Whoop-die-doo.”

Multiple faces contort at that, with Tim and Steph both exclaiming how gross that is and how he didn’t have to phrase it like that and how they never want to hear about Bruce’s sex life ever again in any way, shape, or form.

Hal comments: “Wait, you actually have a kid?”

Bruce fights the urge to facepalm as he deadpans: “Just a second ago, you were willing to believe I had seven or more, why do you seem surprised?”

That renders Hal speechless, which is good, because Bruce doesn’t want to be here anymore. He wants to check up properly on his kids, check up on Gotham, and be as far away from the League and their questions as he can.

So, he uses the silence to says: “Now, as interesting as this has all been, we are going home. I have a city to check on and kids to ground.”

All around him protests start up about how he either has no power over them and can’t ground them or that they’re too mature and well trained fro childish things such as grounding. But Bruce is great at tuning them out when needs must, so he types in the last of the Batcave coordinates and lets the Zeta-Tube take them home.

A/N:

I love coming up with convoluted reasons of why the batfam would be in the Watchtower lmao

Also Alfred totally taught them to cry on command, knowing they would use it for evil <3

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cringefail-clown · 2 months

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the " ive grown accustomed to the idea of not being human anymore, yet ive got this body back. this was the last thing i wanted, and i struggle with the dissonance of my existance" vs the "ive lived as an artificial being for longer than i ever was human, yet theres still so much humanity left in me. ive made peace with the way i am" that is hal and robro in turnabout

#homestuck #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #homestuck au #hal strider #lil hal #autoresponder #dont mind me having hal feelings yet again #like he wouldnt WANT to go back to being human once again #hed be more than happy to stay as a sprite but the circumstances left him no choice than to godtier #and the fallout of that happening would do some shit to his psyche i think #i just *head in hands* imma write a fucking essay i swear to god #these two are so different yet so similar thematically it makes me wanna claw at the walls

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snufkins-boot · 5 months

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Dc x dp idea: time travel yaaaay

Danny, Sam and Tucker get back from fixing some errors in the time line in France just before the French Revolution.

And sure Danny got mistaken for a French aristocrat that had died the day before they got there but it wasn’t to bad, it only made their jobs easier. It won’t be a problem for them.

Meanwhile Constantine, Batman and whoever the fuck else (imma say Hal, I love that green bitch) are exploring an abandoned manor in France after there being reports of strange, violent activity, and with their latest teammate Phantom not picking up their calls Constantine had to pull these two with him instead.

“Hey guys, Phantom’s a ghost, right?”

Hal sounds hesitant as Constantine replies

“Yes, why?”

“I think I found a picture of him living.”

and there on the wall is a picture of a long dead french aristocrat, with black hair and blue eyes but every other detail the same as Phantom’s

There on the wall sits a photo of Daniel Nightingale, a teenager who was possessed by a demon and killed two servants, then himself.

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electricphantasy · 1 year

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Hey everybody, back again with my art! I thought I'd come out with my designs for if some A.I.s had a robotic, more mobile form. I kinda wanna go through my thoughts about their designs, so here we go!

HAL 9000: I wanted him to be very human-like with a lot of his details resembling human muscles. No colors, and all monochrome except for his bright red accents. I imagine he was built to be more so function over form, so he's kind of simple compared to the other A.I.s. His outfit is very professional - suit, tie, and all. His cape being a reference to his memory banks, since I love that scene despite how sad it is.

AM: Now I also wanted him to be human but in a more spooky, skeletal way. Very hunched over, broken down, and needing repairs. He has a little monitor where his heart would be that says HATE. Also, I took away AM's leg privileges, so underneath his HATE cloak is just more confusing wiring. I also want to reference the HATE monolith, so his entire cloak is covered in the word, hate. If that doesn't scream AM, I'm not sure what does.

Edgar: Edgar basically has 2 different designs - The design of the movie, and the design of the poster. To combine them I made most of his body based on the one in the movie, like taking his monitor from the movie and putting some limbs on it. He also gets a devil headband and clip-on belt to reference his more common, movie poster design. Edgar also gets the comfiest wardrobe with a heart tee-shirt and jeans.

TAU: Now TAU gets a very odd body shape, mostly because I wanted him to match Aries, (The robot in the movie) but in a less threatening way? Also floating limbs, because I said so. TAU actually has quite a few colors, despite advertising just using red, so he gets a gradient of red to green in his accents. I tried for the life of me to give him a wardrobe, and the closest I could get was a little, see through cloak. :(

#artificial intelligence #ai #digital art #my art #2001: aso #2001: a space odyssey #hal 9000 #ihnmaims #ihnmaims am #i have no mouth and i must scream #electric dreams 1984 #electric dreams edgar #edgar electric dreams #tau #tau netflix #tau 2018 #not writing #gijinka #robots

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justice-scenarios · 4 months

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Jason Todd, Hal Jordan, and Flash

Reaction to their crush saying, "Your talking mad shit for a guy within kissing distance." Cause they said sum stupid

Aww, love it.

Red Hood

He's not talking nonsense- wait say that last part again?

Smiles under his helmet and says too bad he can't take it off now.

Will tease them until they have to take it off themselves.

Hal Jordan

Man puts hands on his hips "And I can come even closer."

Basically teases each other until they both end up making out.

He loves acting like dumbass because of it in future

Flash

Turns red.

Says it's not the time right now but if they are free later.

At least gets kiss on the cheek.

#pati writes #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader #hal jordan x reader #green lantern x reader #flash x reader #barry allen x reader

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lovelylonelymoonlight · 1 month

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Listen I’m not like a shipper but

THE FACT THAT BRUCE WAS A FAN OF GREEN LANTERN WHEN HE WAS A KID MEANS SOMETHING TO ME WHEN WE’RE TALKING ABOUT BRUCE/HAL

#like that is sooo fusjsjhgd cute #I was gonna write smthing where like a de-aged Bruce only trust green lantern and everyone loses their minds #but I’m not gonna do someone steal that #batfamily #batman #batfam #bruce wayne #hal jordan #hal jordon #green lantern #batlantern #bruhal #<- is that the name idk

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navybrat817 · 8 months

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Sin on Skin AU

Pairings: Various men with female readers. ❤️

AU Summary: Sin on Skin is the hottest tattoo parlor in town and the men who run it live up to the name. And as luck would have it, they only have eyes for you. 🔥

AU Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral sex (m. and f. receiving), dirty talk, fluff, flirting, feels, slowish burn (depending on the couple), slight angst, porn with feels (it's me, lovelies), more to be added.

A/N: You lovelies know me by now! I hope you all enjoy this AU and the various pairings. Please heed the warnings before each post and I will update as time allows. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics . Tattoo edits by the talented Nix and the "Andy" edit by the amazing @randomagnes0210 . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes x Baker!Reader - Hottie and Sugar

🧁 Sugar and Spice

🧁 And Everything Nice

🧁 What Dreams Are Made Of

🧁 Sweet and Strong

🧁 Sundresses and Leather

🧁 Innocent and Sinful

🧁 Ladies and Gentleman

🧁 Rules and Chaos

🧁 Traditions and Innovation

Steve Rogers x Teacher!Reader - Thorn and Rose

🌹 Every Rose Has Its Thorn

🌹 By Any Other Name

Andy Barber x Reader - Grumpy and Sunny

☀️ A Sunny Outlook

Hal Carter x Reader - Menace and Angel

Jake Jensen x Reader

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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shattered-ass · 2 years

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Transformers (IDW Generation One) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Chromedome/Rewind (Transformers) Characters: Chromedome (Transformers) Additional Tags: Heavy Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Grief/Mourning, this kind of came out with a poetic rhythem but i wouldnt go so far as to tag it as poetry Summary:

After Rewind's passing, Chromedome finds himself in his habsuite, sitting alone and rewatching Rewind's final message. Over and over again.

#hal writes #chromedome #cdrw #tf idw #maccadam #heres my court ordered chromedome angst. enjoy #i did write this in a few hours im v proud of myself

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smolvenger · 1 month

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My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "

Word Count: 3K

A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.

Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.

His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.

Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.

Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name.

For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.

Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.

And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.

You took a deep breath.

It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.

Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.

He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.

You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.

Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.

There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.

This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.

He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.

You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him. And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined, you couldn’t help but feel separated.

Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.

As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.

“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.

You curtsied and gave a smile.

The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.

“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”

“I would love to,” you replied.

You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.

Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.

They were on you every time you the whole evening.

Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for.

“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.

“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.

Thomas handed you over quickly.

Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.

The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs.

He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.

“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.

“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.

You gestured at the door.

“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”

Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.

“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”

“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself.

“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him, and I-”

“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.

He turned a little pink.

“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”

“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.

Hal leaned closer to you.

“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”

He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?

You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.

“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.

He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.

“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”

You gasped.

“What did you say?!”

Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.

“You…you love me?”

He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.

“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”

His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.

“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”

He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble. You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.

He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.

“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”

“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.

You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan.

He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other

“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.

You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies.

But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.

His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips.

His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.

“Hal- Hal!” you whispered

“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”

“Yes, you may…”

He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.

He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you.

“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”

Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you replied.

He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.

“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”

slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you.

“My- my lord!”

He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.

“Yes….yes, call me that.”

He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore

“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”

His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.

“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”

He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.

“My lord!” you cried out.

“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.

Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.

“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”

It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.

He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.

“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”

“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-

“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”

He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control.

“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”

With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion.

In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.

He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”

You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.

He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.

“Are you not hurt?” he asked.

“Not a bit.”

He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out.

“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”

“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.

He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.

“As you have all of mine, my lady.”

His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party.

#smut #carrie writes #prince hal #prince hal x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #the hollow crown #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #prince hal smut #prince hal imagine #prince hal the hollow crown

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actually-the-antichrist · 2 years

Text

The Iliad in 1967

(drabbles of an idea)

This piece is dedicated to the Goddess Aphrodite-

In this story, she is 19, and she is unbearably beautiful.

MAKE LOVE NOT WAR

"But.. what if they really are a danger?"

"Oh come now Patroclus, you're much smarter than that."

"I mean, I was against the war on Troy even back then because I thought the cause was stupid, but what if they have a legitimate reason this time?"

"A legitimate - there is NEVER a legitimate reason."

"I only mean that if there were genuine evil in this world, I would be willing to fight in a war against it."

"Of course you would. But here, your boyfriend, the love of your life, is going to evade the draft and go out to the streets to protest, what are you going to do now?"

"Of course, I will join him, then. Without hesitation."

"Good boy, Pari- I mean, Patroclus."

Achilles is antiwar now because he's seen through all the bs. Took him long enough. One lifetime in fact.

None of the Trojans are here in the story, (because Troy ISN'T REAL, ATHENS!) but they haunt them. Achilles sees Hector's ghost in the mirror. He is the one besieged now. Troy isn't real. Vietnam isn't real, Uncle Sam! He is under siege. The whole nation is under siege. Achilles cannot escape. Achilles cannot escape. Achilles goes out to the streets.

And then of course Patroclus dies in the protests because it's the fucking Iliad

His family had already disowned him for running off long ago. There was no official funeral.

Finally, Achilles dies trying to raise an insurrection against the US government.

On the streets of the city, a boy with flaming red hair bleeds to his death from a bullet wound in his stomach.

He was not able to stop the war, or to save either one of them.

He was not a hero.

There is screaming around him. Sobbing. It sounds familiar.

The sky is darkening. In an adjacent street, the gods of love and war walk hand in hand among the protestors. A couple of blocks down, Apollo and Dionysus hold a concert. Somewhere out there, in a better place perhaps, a beautiful young man named Paris chooses Love again and again for all the pain it wrought.

Achilles finds he is comforted by the thought.

#Hal writes #an idea that's been on my mind for a while #The Iliad #might write out the whole thing if I get the motivation #Achilles #patroclus #Hector #paris #Aphrodite #classics #ancient greek #Homer #its quite raw I realize #but that is the emotion i feel like one should approach the Iliad with #crying screaming on the floor #this piece is personally dedicated to Aphrodite #make love not war Paris #aphrodite deity

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schrijverr · 5 months

Text

Batman Fatale

While on a mission with the Justice League, Batman (who hasn’t revealed his secret identity) pulls out his Brucie voice, shocking the others.

Inspired by Head Problems by That_One_Curly_Haired_Fangirl on AO3.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

The Justice League is going for stealth, something Bruce didn’t think they were capable off, but so far he’s been pleasantly surprised. Though, maybe the promise of a good brawl later is what is keeping them quiet.

They’re infiltrating into Luthor’s office, underneath which he is building a robot army to overtake the world in the name of peace. Hacking in to disable them means sounding the alarm and Bruce has already calculated that it will take too long for him not to get swarmed by them, before he can take them out. Hence, the League, who will keep them off his back while he works.

However, they’ve run into a bit of roadblock in the form of the security guard, who is manning the front desk during the night shift.

Everyone has thrown out ideas to take him out, but Bruce wants to attract attention as late as possible and there are likely human operatives further down as well. They’ll notice if the guard were to disappear.

Besides, the guy, Amir, cleared his background check when he was planning this mission. He doesn’t know what he’s guarding and is just trying to make ends meat.

So, he holds up his hand and the whispered deliberation quiets down. As he pulls out his phone, he says: “I’ll handle this. Wait for my orders.”

They all shoot him confused and wary looks as he sets to dialing on his phone, keeping the screen away from them. He can say that it hurts that they don’t fully trust him, but he doesn’t care. He has his own family/team back in Gotham and if being a mysterious prick keeps his kids safe, he’ll gladly play the part.

He knew this roadblock might come up, so he prepared in advance. So, within seconds he is bringing the phone to his ear, while the others continue to look between him and the guard that’s on the other side of the glass doors.

Bruce mentally laughs, they probably expect assassins to swoop down and drag the man into the shadows.

Which is the opposite of what happens, because instead Amir startles then looks down at his now ringing phone. He smiles, then looks around a bit, checking that the coast is clear and completely missing the League, before picking up.

As Amir looks around, Hal hisses: “What the hell are you doing, Spooks? You don’t call the guy you wanna sneak-”

He shuts him up with a hand over his mouth, because Amir has picked up now. “Hey, hi, uhm, how are you doing, John?”

John is the fake name he used on the dating profile with the doctored photos. He feels a little bad about catfishing him, it’s slimy and Amir is actually cute too. Still, can’t be helped, so he puts as much Brucie charm into his voice as he flirty replies: “Hi, Amir, I’m good, just lonely. Would be better if you were with me. I’m practically indecent here for you.”

Immediately all the League’s heads snap his way, but he ignores them in favor of observing Amir. He is blushing, but looks pleased, before he sags a little. “I would love you, you’re so handsome-”

“I’d prefer pretty,” Bruce interrupts. “If you’re letting me down, at least call me pretty so I’ll know what it’ll sound like from you.”

Now Amir’s darker skin gets even more dark as he continues to blush. He stammers: “No, no, no. Not letting you down. Fuck. You’re so pretty, John. Of course I’m not letting you down. I’m just working, pretty boy, just working.”

“Booo,” Bruce whines, knowing how to sound appealing instead of annoying, albeit a little spoiled. “Can’t you just have a little break? Where do you work? I can come over, little blowie in the ally on a smoke break never hurt anybody.”

Amir groans at the offer, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling, feeling a little despair by the look on his face. “I could get fired,” he protests, but it’s weak. Got him.

Bruce knows that he’s going to get fired anyway for letting them pass, but at least like this he’s out of harm’s way. He’s planning on offering him a job anyway. So, he insists again: “Promise I’ll get you off before they notice. It’ll tide me over until they let you go and you can show me what a proper good time is.”

Now Amir is looking around, no one except the League (who are all still staring and he wishes they’d stop) to see. So, he relents: “Alright, I work at the Luthor office. Uptown, you know it?”

“Oh my god, you’re kidding?” Bruce laughs in his most ditzy Brucie voice. “I’m literally at one of the bars down the street.”

“And what are you doing there?” Amir asks, trying to sound flirty, but coming across as a little insecure. It’s cute on him.

Bruce imagines himself twirling the phone cord at this point as he bats his eyes through his voice as he says: “Feeling lonely and thinking about you.”

Amir looks relieved at that, straightening up again as he asks: “Well, I can change one part of that for you. How fast can you get here?”

“Like two minutes,” Bruce answers.

“Meet you in the alley on the left then,” Amir says. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, handsome,” Bruce greets back, before hanging up. The second the line is dead, he reverts back to Batman’s voice and grunts: “Get ready to move.”

“What the fuck was that, Batman!” Hal is unsurprisingly the first to break. He never does know how to keep his mouth shut during stealth missions.

“Are you still Batman? Please tell me you’re still Batman. Because if you’ve been replaced by some alien, shape shifter or pod person, I don’t know what to do with myself. So you have to be Batman, even though Batman is creepy and mean and stand-offish and not flirty and-”

“Flash, quiet,” Bruce cuts of the rambling of the speedster. He’s not in the mood.

“You can at least tell us how you know the guard,” Clark speaks up, going for firm leader. Bruce can respect him for trying to lead these people who are all obviously not used to working as a team nor good at it. But the boy scout act sometimes gets on Bruce’s nerves.

He’s sure his kids and Alfred will have something to say about it, pointing to his trust issues that makes him perceive everything as an interrogation, but they aren’t here right now. Plus, he knows Damian at least will be on his side. He has people in his camp.

… Though that might not be a good thing. Hm, should he talk to Damian about it?

“It seems familiar somehow,” Oliver comments and Bruce hopes Amir moves soon. The last thing he wants is for Ollie to figure out who is under the cowl, the man is insufferable enough as it is.

“Batman?” Clark prompts, apparently he’s been quiet for long enough.

Falling back on one of his contingencies, he says: “Everyone should have skills in the acting and grifting department. Contact is sometimes unavoidable. I study people and I plan ahead. This is planning ahead.”

Right at that moment, Amir finally moves. Bruce feels a little bad about standing him up, but is glad to grapple away from the rest of the League. He hopes there will be a fight soon, because that way no one can ask him more questions.

#rr writing #batman #bruce wayne #brucie wayne #clark kent #superman #hal jordan #green latern #green arrow #oliver queen #flash #barry allen #justice league #jl #jla #dc #dc comics

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