#because does this count for Bruce Wayne specifically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starry-bi-sky · 5 months

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I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.

(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)

So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:

Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.

Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.

Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.

(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)

It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."

The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.

Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.

And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.

Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.

It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)

So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.

He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).

(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)

Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.

(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)

(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)

"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.

Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"

Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."

"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."

The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.

But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.

"Now remember, Wraith--"

Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."

(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)

Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"

"Assassin."

Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.

("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)

It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.

"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."

He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.

"Ready to go, Wraith?"

"After you, Phantom."

+++

Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.

However. They are both aware of the same thing:

Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.

He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.

And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.

Damian knows this, because he has asked.

Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.

He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.

Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"

"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."

"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.

Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.

It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.

His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."

Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."

Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."

A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."

For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.

It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.

Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.

"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"

Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.

They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.

"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.

"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."

A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.

Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."

Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.

The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.

"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."

Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.

"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.

Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.

The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.

"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.

"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.

Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.

Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."

"Fine."

+++

They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.

It was oddly beautiful.

Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.

"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.

Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.

Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.

Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.

He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.

Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.

Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.

Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.

They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.

Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.

"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.

"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."

"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.

When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.

At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.

He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"

Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."

Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."

The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.

There was a lot of purple.

"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."

What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.

"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."

Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"

Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"

Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"

"Of course! What do you need?"

Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"

+++

The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.

She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.

Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.

The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.

("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")

On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.

Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.

Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.

The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.

When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.

+++

But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.

My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.

Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.

Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.

It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,

#dpxdc crossover #dpxdc #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny fenton is not the ghost king #danny fenton is a clone #damian clone au #i couldnt NOT describe their new suits. i just couldn't. they're leaning into the ghost culture of being scary as fuck looking #i feel a little cheesy for giving them magic jewelry that lets them hide their suits instantly #but i have to make up for danny's lack of ghost form SOMEHOW #damian just gets it too by association #if anyone is curious #Ellie's ghost form is identical to Danny's suit just the colors are inverted. so her suit is all white and her mask is all black #its not a starry au unless its got a read more #did anyone notice the Big Mama cameo from ROTTMNT #its because Danny's mask looks like Casey Jones Jr's mask from ROTTMNT without the red marks on the eyes #Danny and Damian's dynamic itches my brain #Danny: im calling Dad Rights - youre grounded #Damian: nnOOOO #also also. danny uses sign language if he's in view of the living since they could recognize his voice. damian does not yet know ASL #so thats on his 'languages to learn' list #although he is not seen by the public since he has school and ghost attacks happen around danny and not him #Red Huntress gives the Phantom so much shit when she sees his sidekick. Phantom tiredly explains that he had no choice - Wraith would have #come with anyways. truly a robin at heart.#“idc if you say no imma do vigilantism ANYWAY. i dont NEED ur permission” is robincore and bruce/danny going #“fine but i'm gonna make sure you dont DIE then”#clone^2

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not-another-robin · 1 year

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Wayne Manor is an All Autistic Household - AKA I'm projecting

Part 1: states of dress

I've said it before and I'll say it again: if Bruce is left to his own devices he'd never wear clothes. He hates fabric and fabric hates him. He wants to be released from the shackles of human civility but unfortunately he has 6 children he doesn't want to traumatize. He still can be found in just his underwear and robe (and one sock somehow) after a particularly difficult case. Also, he forgets to take the bat suit off often.

Also previously discussed, Alfred needs to wear clothes at all times. He hates being unclothed so much it's unreal. He is also very strict about what clothes are 'appropriate' for what time. The kids can count on one hand the times they've seen him in proper pajamas, if he's woken up in the middle of the night he's decked out in robe and cap and slippers and Night Ascot. Every Christmas they wake up earlier and earlier to get him to come down in his pajamas, it has never once worked.

Dick does wear clothes but he wears any clothing that crosses his path. Steph's workout leggings? Sure. Damians xs hoodie? If it fits over his head why not. He has to expend brainpower to come up with a comprehensible outfit and too often he has no braincells to expend. Also he forgets to wear shoes. He has gone all the way to work barefoot and had to turn around.

Pre-death Jason was definitely "running around in boxers until Alfred scolded him" kid, post-death he's wearing a hoodie AND sweatpants AND fuzzy socks at all times. He runs cold, go figure. He cannot walk around on non carpeted floor without slippers or socks, he hates being barefoot. He sleeps with socks on, the monster.

Tim the pinnacle of teenage boy, He'll wear a shirt if he's already in it but he won't go through the effort to put one on, if that makes any sense. He sleeps shirtless so he stays that way most weekends. He is the prime breaker of the 'please put on a shirt while people are over' rule. Unbelievably specific but: when his hair gets long enough it starts to bother him, he'll use his shirt as a bandana to get it out of his eyes. Yes it looks ridiculous. No he doesn't care.

Damian is the only one who endeavors to remain clothed as he doesn't like not wearing them, but he has problems with changing his clothes. He routinely goes to sleep fully in the outfit from the day. If left to his own devices he would just go a week in the same outfit without changing. They had to have an extensive 'you cannot sleep in a suit' talk. He doesn't change out of his school uniform when he gets home.

Duke is yet another shirtless teenager, but he takes advantage of the Many Robes of the Wayne household. He thinks it looks cool until Damian points out he looks like a stepmom. He still wears them though, they're so soft.

Cass likes to steal hoodies. No hoodie or sweater or robe for that matter is safe, they all end up in Cass's Horde. She also denies her crimes because she thinks it's funny. Other than that she loves soft pajamas, but usually ends up in shorts. She has walked around in a sports bra sparking a lively debate as to what counts as "shirtless"

#hi im spiraling. welcome to headcanon town #narsposting #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #not tagging their supersonas fuck you

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

Family Name

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader (reader was in the Army and SWAT in Central City)

Summary: After ten years away, you return to Gotham. When you discover you know the true identity of the Joker, you join Batman's fight to save Gotham.

Warnings: angst, fluff, vague references to several DC Comics movies and timelines, murder (I can't get too specific about the murder warning without spoiling a plot point, but there is a friendly fire aspect and an assassination by a sniper)

Word Count: 6.6k+ words

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce Wayne (or at least posting it lol) so he may be OOC. I actually wrote most of this a year ago and just put the finishing touches on it, so I'm not sure if it's worth reading. Feel free to let me know what you think and send any Bruce Wayne requests you have so I can keep practicing for him! (If you want a specific characterization/actor let me know.)

The map that I used as a reference while writing is included at the end!

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Gotham is still cold, wet, and smelly. Some things never change, no matter how hard a certain vigilante tries. It’s been nearly ten years since you last set foot in Gotham, and things have changed. For better or worse? Who can tell?

It is raining as you walk out of the train station on the outer border of Gotham City. You shiver and pull your jacket closer to your body as the cold drizzle starkly contrasts the sunny Central City you came from. You hail a cab and tell the driver the address of your temporary apartment. The news station on the radio catches your attention, and the driver turns it up when you ask.

“After a fearsome showdown last night with the Joker, who is still missing from Arkham Asylum, the Batman has been spotted in downtown Gotham. The GCPD is on high alert following several tips of illegal business at the Iceberg Lounge,” they report.

“You new in town?” the driver asks.

“Not exactly. I haven’t been here in years though,” you explain.

“Then you’re new. This is a whole new Gotham. Just stay on the good side of the Batman and you’ll be fine, kid. This is you.”

After paying the driver and pulling your bags from the trunk, you stand on the sidewalk and look up at the place you now call home. The apartment building is old but in decent condition. Especially considering where it is. As the rain grows heavier, you move inside, climbing the stairs to the third floor and entering your apartment. The unit came furnished, so you only have some clothing to unpack. You start a list of the housewares and cleaning supplies you’ll need to buy. Walking around the living room, you notice the cable is hooked up and turn on the television. The local television channels are either out because of the rain or playing broadcasts of last night’s story. Any background noise will do, you suppose, as you leave a news channel on and begin unpacking and cleaning with what little bit of supplies you have.

After cleaning, you take a break and fall back onto the couch. The news is still on, and a face flashes across the scene, filling you with an odd sense of recognition. You lean forward to get a better view before exclaiming, “No way.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“When did you come back?” someone asks as you enter a small department store.

Looking up, you smile when you see a familiar face. “Barbara, hey! Last night. Been in Central City for too long.”

“Should have stayed there,” she says, laughing humorlessly. “Gotham is quite literally the most crime ridden city in the world now. It’s on the sign and everything. At least in Central you have a vigilante to protect you.”

“So does Gotham,” you point out. “He’s all over the news.”

“Yeah, we do. But for every criminal he puts in Arkham, ten more pop up.”

“Is your dad still a cop?”

“He’s the commissioner now. Actually…” She pulls a card out of her wallet and hands it to you. “Call him if you ever get in trouble. Be careful, okay? This isn’t the Gotham you remember.”

“I will. Thanks.”

You watch her leave before you begin shopping for the items on your list. After shopping, you are back in your apartment, cleaning and organizing. The Gotham News has more showtime than Hannah Montana in the 2000s. You find yourself invested in every story they present. Maybe this isn’t the Gotham you remember, but it is still Gotham and your home. If this city needs help, you'll offer everything you have.

“Citizens of Gotham, I am Police Commissioner James Gordon. Regarding the recent red alert at Arkham Asylum, the GCPD is urging residents to stay indoors, lock doors and windows, and most importantly, stay calm. We are not sure at this time how many, if any, patients escaped the asylum. Anyone with information is encouraged to contact crime stoppers at 800-”

You mute the television and look at your closet. An armour-plated uniform hangs front and centre, practically begging you to put it on and fight for your home. If Barbara doesn’t think Batman can handle all the criminals, maybe he would appreciate a little help.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chastise yourself, still looking at the closet. A few minutes later, you find yourself standing in front of the closet, thinking, “But you have the training.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Gotham looks much darker from a rooftop. You find a lookout spot a few blocks from Arkham, assuming anyone who escaped will have to pass you eventually.

“Oh, sweet Gotham! Riddle me this!” a high-pitched voice calls. A moment later, you see a man dressed in a green suit entering the alley below you.

“Now or never,” you whisper as you move toward the edge.

“The more of it there is, the less of all you see. What is it?” Riddler asks.

“Darkness,” you answer as you grab his shoulders.

You pull him backwards and knock him to the ground. His breath rushes out at the impact, and you bring your elbow down to his face, rendering him unconscious before he can catch his breath. The burner phone you bought earlier is programmed with James Gordon’s number in it.

“Gordon,” he answers.

“Riddler is unconscious in the alley at Tomlinson and Pygall,” you say lowly, hoping your voice is disguised enough, before hanging up.

Your attention is ripped away from the unconscious criminal as a silhouette of a bat floats across the sky.

“There’s hope yet, Gotham,” you say, smiling.

✯✯✯✯✯

It seems as though you are better at vigilantism than you expected. Everywhere you go, Batman is either already there or crosses your path. He has yet to see you, that much is sure. Lurking on a dark rooftop, you hear the telltale sign of his grappling hook and are a second too late in realizing he is moving onto the same roof as you.

“So, you’re the one who’s been stealing half my jobs?” he asks, walking toward you.

“You seem busy, thought you might like some help,” you respond, shrugging as you change your voice again.

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the thought. But you need to go home. This is dangerous and you could get hurt.”

You internally roll your eyes at his obvious arguments. “So could you.��

“Doesn’t matter if I get hurt.”

“Me neither. Any idea how many more of them are out there?”

Batman sighs and turns away from you to look over the city. “One or two,” he answers. “The city got lucky; Joker was in solitary and didn’t get out.”

You nod to yourself, moving toward the edge as you ask, “Why does it seem so easy to escape Arkham?”

“Poor security, not enough staff, an old building. The list is endless. Every time someone tries to strengthen it, a stronger foe comes along and breaks it again.”

You’ve been doing this a long time.”

“Yet nothing’s changed.”

A sound behind you stops your answer. Turning toward the sound, you launch yourself onto the fire escape, ignoring Batman’s pleas to stop.

“Whoa,” you breathe, looking at the plants growing in the alley.

“You’re not the Bat,” Poison Ivy, whose news special aired last night, says. “You’d look much better in green than him.”

“Every plant I’ve ever owned has died. It’s one of my talents,” you taunt before throwing a canister from your belt.

“It won’t work, Buttercup. I’ve been tear gassed many times.”

“It’s not just tear gas,” you call as the plants begin to wither. “It’s concentrated sulfur dioxide. Deadly to plants and debilitating to people.”

She coughs several times before falling. An arm wraps around your waist, and you are hoisted through the air before landing on a rooftop.

“What was that?!” Batman demands.

“Sulfur dioxide.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! You can’t just run around taunting criminals in a mask. What if that hadn’t worked and she had hurt you?”

“She didn’t. Besides-“

“No! You don’t get to justify this.” He keeps talking, and you feel like you have heard him before. You watch him closely as he continues berating you.

“This is not a game. Do you understand that?” Bingo. You smile at him, his chest heaving as he prepares to yell at you again.

“You’re still really protective,” you say lightly.

Batman turns toward you quickly, shaking his head before asking, “What?”

“In middle school you wouldn’t let me jump from the top of the swing set. Just funny that you’re still so protective when you risk your life every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

You move toward the edge of the building and look over your shoulder at him.

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Batman runs to the edge after you jump, but the alley is empty.

“Alfred,” he calls into his earpiece.

“You’ll figure it out, sir. Eventually.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Didn’t I tell you to stay home?” Batman asks as he walks up behind you.

“No. You told me I couldn’t run around taunting criminals in a mask. Which, by the way, I have some questions about. Can I walk and taunt criminals in a mask or is it the taunting that’s the problem?” you tease, looking up at him from your crouched position.

“Ha ha,” he deadpans. “I’ll give you a pass for the other night, but you need to go home. Right now. I’m not letting you get hurt for this.”

“Then don’t. Watch my back and I’ll watch yours.” You extend your hand for a handshake as you stand.

“No deal. Go home.”

“I’m not going home. So, stay with me and we can help each other or I’m going to go hunt him down on my own.”

He narrows his eyes at you before sighing and shaking your hand.

“Why are you smiling?” he asks as he releases your hand.

“We always were a pretty good team.”

You see the moment of recognition as his jaw drops under the cowl. He recovers quickly and points at you.

“Ground rules. Number one: you don’t engage. Two: stay hidden. Three: run if things go south.”

“Got it. Be boring,” you relay.

“This is not the time for jokes. Our lives are on the line. You don’t even have a good reason to be here.”

“Yeah I do.”

“Please enlighten me,” Batman prods impatiently.

You can tell he is mad you were here and are not listening to him. Too bad, Bats, you think. Gotham is your home, too, and you aren’t going to let it fall into the hands of some crazy clown or any other criminal.

“But before you tell me that, tell me what makes you qualified to be out here.”

“Look at me. Armoured uniform, tear gas, I’m a CCPD jacket short of official.”

“You’re CCPD?”

“I was. SWAT officer for five years after I got out of the Army. But I grew up here and I’m not letting this city go without a fight.”

“Why this fight? The one criminal we haven’t been able to stop for almost a decade?”

“Because...” You look up at him and smile. “I know who he is.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Thank you, Batman,” Commissioner Gordon says, shaking Batman’s hand. “We’ll get him in solitary.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Batman replies.

“Who’s your new helper? Everyone at the station is talking about the reaper that popped up and knows how to take them all down.”

“An old friend. Try to keep them in a while longer this time, will you?”

Commissioner Gordon turns around to see Batman is gone. “We’ll try,” he mumbles into the dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

The next night, Batman is gone. You don’t so much as see his shadow all night. There is only one criminal out; maybe they’re all on vacation, too. Killer Croc used Arkham’s sewer system to escape and pop up downtown. It was a long and tiresome fight, but you got him on the ground, and the GCPD took it from there. You finally reach the rooftop, preparing to cross them to go home, but don't make it far. Hitting the roof, you feel pain shoot through your ribs. After running your hand across the area, your skin is stained red. Great, you think.

“What were you thinking?!” Batman reprimands you as he appears and kneels beside you, pulling items from his utility belt.

“Mostly about what I was going to eat for dinner,” you joke, hissing when the antiseptic hits your skin.

“I’m sorry,” Batman says quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy. At least it wasn’t my neck this time.”

“I told you not to use your belt to traverse the jungle gym,” Batman mumbles.

“So, you do remember me,” you say happily.

“You’re still an idiot with a death wish.”

“And you’re still Mother Hen Bruce.”

“This’ll help for now,” he says, helping you stand up and hooking his arm under your shoulders. “But I’m taking you back to the cave to get you checked out.”

“Didn’t do enough checking out in high school?” you slur before passing out.

“Alfred, we’re inbound,” he says into his microphone.

“Glad to see blood loss doesn’t dampen her sarcasm,” Alfred responds, “I’ll be ready.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What did you mean you know who he is?” Bruce asks.

You blink several times to make sure you aren’t imagining him. He looks different than the last time you saw him. Without the mask, he’s more like the Bruce you grew up with, just older and barely holding Gotham together.

“You got hot,” you say without thinking.

“Thanks. Now tell me what you meant.”

“That I know who he is?” you clarify, standing up.

“Please stay down,” Alfred chides as he returns with tea.

“Thanks, Alfred. Good to see you again.” You smile as you accept the tea.

“You as well. Now take it easy. You should be battle ready in a day or two but that’s only if you rest properly.”

“No, you will not be battle ready. There is no more battle for you,” Bruce adds.

“You know I’m not going to listen and if you tell me no I’ll just do it myself.”

“We’ll have this conversation later. For now, tell me what you know about Joker.”

“Okay. He’s my uncle. Like twice removed, or-“

“There’s no way you’re related to that monster,” Bruce interjects.

“I’m not, really. We’re related by marriage. His aunt or somebody else married my cousin and I happened to meet him a few times. Fate, I guess.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No. Everyone in the family called him J. I thought his name started with a J but see now that it’s because he’s cuckoo for cocoa puffs.”

Bruce chuckles and shakes his head before turning serious again. “Are you really okay?”

“I’m great. Thanks for the assist.”

“I’m glad you’re back. Even if you are endangering yourself and ignoring everything I say.”

“Me too.”

“But Alfred’s right. You need some rest. We can finish this conversation later.”

“I can go home,” you say, standing up.

You stumble slightly, and Bruce catches you, holding you upright against him.

“Can you?” he asks, the ghost of a smile appearing on his face.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I think I found something,” you cheer when Bruce answers the phone.

“Where are you?”

“My apartment. It’s by Sacred Heart.”

The line goes silent, so you say Bruce’s name.

“You’re living by the Narrows? I thought you just went out there to fight.”

“It’s a fine building. I’m not in the Narrows.”

“No but you’re between Crime Alley and Arkham Island. You need to find a new place. Now.”

“I can’t afford anything else, Bruce. It was this or Slaughter Swamp.”

“Pack your essentials. I’ll be there in twenty.”

He hangs up, leaving you with a dozen questions. However, you know he means what he says, so you pack the stuff you can’t live without and are ready to go when he shows up twenty minutes later.

“You’re staying at Wayne Manor until we find you a new place.”

“That is not necessary.”

“It’s not just that this is close to the Narrows. We’re going after Joker, and I need to know you’re safe.”

“We’re not going after Joker,” you correct, “we’re finishing this.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Bruce, I can’t find a marriage certificate. They may not have been married; maybe they were just living together or something and didn’t want to explain it to a kid,” you admit, disappointed in your lack of findings.

“It’s okay. We will find something. And if we don’t, we can do it another way,” he assures.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is the fourth Arkham breakout in as many weeks. When do you sleep?” you ask.

Alfred laughs faintly through the communications system.

“During Wayne Enterprises meetings, usually,” Bruce answers.

“I got one. Going dark,” you alert before jumping to meet Captain Boomerang.

After a short fight which results in your earpiece breaking, Captain Boomerang is unconscious, and you prepare to call Gordon.

“Ha ha ha ha,” an eerie voice cackles behind you.

You freeze in place before turning slowly and coming face-to-face with the Joker. He knocks your helmet off in one swift move, and your face is now visible.

“I remember you. My aunt married your second cousin. Horrible family you have. Or should I say had? Ha ha ha ha.”

“What do you want?”

“Is a family reunion not enough? No, I guess you’re right. I mean, marriages end so are we even related anymore?”

“We never were.”

“Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Reaper! You know everyone calls you that, don’t ya? Personally, I think it’s a bit morbid but to each their own. I also heard from a little bird that you’re working with the big, bad bat. I had such great hopes for you, and you let me down.”

“What do you want?” you repeat slowly.

“To be family again,” he answers, smiling as he runs his fingers over your face and hair.

“What about Harley? Isn’t she your family? You were all she could talk about the other night.”

“Not anymore. She settled for some used piece on her Suicide Suckers. But me and you? Me and you could be the dream team. The family to end all families.”

“I don’t want to be part of your family.”

“When I found out Harley was a harlot, you know what I said? I said I’d peel off her skin and put it on a new body. But I can’t imagine those words coming from her. So, from now on…” he moves his hand to rest in front of your throat as his smile drops. “If Harley wouldn’t say it, you don’t say it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Alfred, where is she?” Bruce asks.

“Toxic Acres. She’s still not responding,” Alfred responds, watching your tracker blink in the same place for the fifth consecutive minute.

“I’m going after her,” Bruce declares.

“Be careful, Master Bruce.” Bruce doesn’t respond, and Alfred mutes the private connection as he watches Bruce’s tracker move toward yours. “And don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re making a mistake, J,” you hiss, the pressure of Joker’s hand on your throat making it hard, but not impossible, to breathe.

“No, they made a mistake,” he argues, moving his hand slightly as he steps back to look at you.

“Who?”

“Your family. All families. Everyone who treats people like outsiders.”

“You mean to tell me you’re doing this - all of this - because you never felt like you belonged in a family?”

“No!” Joker yells, leaning his weight against your throat as he smiles in your face. “Because no family has ever accepted me. I know I don’t belong, but everyone expects families to lie, right? Especially their own, but no, poor Joker always got told the truth! ‘You’re too strange,’ ‘You’re dangerous,’ ‘The kids are scared of you,’ yet no one ever offered to help me fit in.”

You raise your hands to his arm and claw at his skin, growing desperate for air as he rants. He looks over when your hits grow weaker and pulls his hand back. You fall to the ground, wheezing, as you try to take deep breaths.

Holding your neck, you look up at him and ask, “Then what do you want?”

He kneels in front of you and holds a knife out in his hand. “I want you to find a family and make a Joker-sized hole for me to fill.”

Shaking your head, you argue, “I’m not like you. I won’t do that, J.”

He cocks his head as his smile falls. “Harley wouldn’t say that, would she? And, besides, you’re more like me than you think, aren’t you? And what’s more interesting is that I think you know it. We’re the same, you and I, whether you like it or not.” The knife is raised to your throat as he threatens, “Do it, or I will make another hole in your family.”

“Another?” you ask.

The blade presses against your skin, and you close your eyes, unwilling to give him the theatrics and attention he so desperately seeks. A grappling hook sounds somewhere above you just before the blade is removed from your throat. Joker’s words echo in your head, and your eyes stay closed. Someone gently touches your neck and your face, but you don’t open your eyes, in case it’s him trying to trick you. He does that; you remember that too well.

An arm loops around your waist as a hand pulls your arms over broad shoulders. Only when you’re flying through the air and clinging to him are you ready to admit that Bruce is saving you. Opening your eyes, you see Wayne Tower in the distance. You tighten your arms around Bruce’s neck, and his hand squeezes your waist in response. He lands on the roof of Wayne Manor and rushes into the Batcave.

“What did he do to you?” Bruce asks as he sets you on a medical exam table. The same table you sat on when he saved you after the fight with Killer Croc.

Bruce tries to step back, but you cling to him. He’s the only family you have left, and Joker opened an old wound with his talk of carving a hole in a family to fill himself. That’s what he tried to do with your family, but when he still didn’t fit, he kept carving.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper into Bruce’s suit.

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, pulling you to the edge of the table as he cups your head to his shoulder.

“I’m right here,” he soothes. “Not going anywhere.”

He holds you for longer than you realize; time slows down in Bruce’s arms. When you pull back, he cups your face in his hands and looks at you intently.

“Want to talk about it?” he asks.

“Not right now,” you whisper.

“That’s okay,” he promises, nodding.

“The guest bedroom has been prepared and dinner is awaiting you, Master Bruce,” Alfred calls, briefly appearing in the doorway of the Batcave.

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready. And you’re staying here tonight.”

You don’t argue, nodding as you stand and follow Bruce upstairs. He shows you to a guest room with clothes, toiletries, and more books than you can count. Telling you to use whatever you want; he leaves to change before meeting you for dinner.

When you enter the bathroom to change into the clothes you found in the closet, you see yourself in the mirror. Mostly, you see the red line running across your neck. Joker has hurt more than enough people, you decide, and you meant what you told Bruce; you plan to finish this.

✯✯✯✯✯

Bruce sits up suddenly. The sun is coming through the cracks in his curtains, but something feels off. He pulls a shirt over his head and walks down the hall, knocking on the door to the guest room where you’re staying. After a moment of no answer, he lets himself in. There’s a note on the bed in your handwriting.

I can’t let him do it again, especially not to you. Please stay home tonight and let me finish this fight. I should have done it ten years ago, but I was scared and ran. This is my chance to make everything right. Please forgive me.

Bruce takes a deep breath, suppressing his urge to punch a hole in the wall. Alfred wouldn’t appreciate another one. He rereads the note, then goes downstairs for breakfast like everything is fine.

“Where is our guest?” Alfred asks when Bruce enters the dining room. “Resting, I hope.”

“She’s gone. She left in the middle of the night to, quote, finish a fight like she should have done ten years ago.”

Alfred’s eyes widen as he stops moving trays onto the table. “You’re going after her, then?”

“No, Alfred, I am not.”

Bruce picks up the paper, as nonchalant as ever, and more convincing than when he turns on his Brucie Wayne charm.

“Why ever not, sir?”

“She asked me not to. And after her reaction to me last night, I’m inclined to listen to her.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Bruce drops the paper and looks at Alfred. “I am going to do exactly what she said.” When the paper covers his face again, he adds, “For a while.”

“Good man,” Alfred mutters, returning to serving breakfast.

✯✯✯✯✯

Realistically, you know that breaking into Arkham and executing a patient isn’t the best idea, but it would solve the problem. However, there’s the downside of life in prison for first-degree murder that you’d have to contend with. Bruce would surely visit you, but you don’t want to lose him before you get him back.

Perched on a rooftop, you watch Arkham and hope your trap is being laid as planned. The security lights blink on seconds before the alarm sounds. If Arkham Asylum is good for anything, it’s the consistency of frequent breakouts. No matter who breaks out tonight, you’re prepared. All you have to do is convince them to lay a trap for Joker, convincing him that you killed someone, and then you can pounce. Watching the alley below you, you furrow your brows as you lean forward.

“Catwoman?” you ask incredulously.

She looks up, tilting her head at the sight of you. “Reaper?” she asks, sounding far too excited.

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Thieving, I presume?” She nods, and you lower yourself onto a fire escape before jumping to meet her. “There’s nothing here worth stealing.”

“Maybe.”

You clench your hands into fists and look down the alley.

“I think the better question is what are you doing here, Reaper? I’m not exactly in your demographic.”

Under your mask, you press your lips together and consider confiding in her. She cares about Batman as far as you can tell, so if you tell her Joker is planning to kill him (though, in reality, Bruce is his likely target), she may be willing to help.

“Batman dump you? He does that,” Catwoman hums.

“What? No, no, we’re not together like that.”

“Yet,” Catwoman interjects.

“Look, Joker is going to try to kill someone that I love. He’s already ruined my family forever.”

“You just moved here, who could you possibly love here? I thought I fell fast.”

“I grew up here, and-“

Your mind races as you remember that you haven’t been seen with Bruce since returning, but Joker has been out since then. Pulling the earpiece from your pocket, you hope someone is in the Batcave.

“Hello?” you ask into it, desperate and terrified for your family. “Take whatever you want,” you tell Catwoman when you don’t get an answer, “heck, take something for me too. But if you see Batman, tell him I’m looking for him?”

“Sure.” You move toward the end of the alley before Catwoman asks, “What should we call you?”

Smiling, you answer, “Reaper is growing on me.”

“Good luck, Reaper.”

You could have taken a grappling hook before you left Wayne Manor last night, but you were more concerned with Bruce’s safety than yours. Getting off of Arkham Island and into Gotham Heights will take too long on foot.

“Batman?” you ask, trying the comm again. “Anybody?”

“You called?”

You slide to a stop, nearly falling over, when you see Batman perched on a roof, looming like a gargoyle. He spreads his cape as he moves to the road before you. Looking down at you, though you can’t see his eyes, you know he’s trying to ensure you’re safe and unharmed.

“He’s going after Barbara. I thought he meant you, but he was out when I saw Barbara.”

“I’ll call Gordon. We need to get to Gotham Heights.”

“We’ll never make it in time. The alarm sounded twenty minutes ago.”

Bruce’s head turns toward you as he presses a button on his utility belt. The Batmobile turns a corner, coming to a stop beside you. Your eyes widen as the top opens, jumping in the passenger seat as you look at everything in awe.

“Barbara is stronger, and knows more than you think, but she can’t hold him off forever.”

You nod, prepared to do whatever you have to do. Even if it means making Bruce hate you.

“And I forgive you. Whatever you do, I understand,” Bruce says quietly. “Just- just remember that your actions affect more people than just you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s a trap. The driveway beside Barbara’s place is decorated like the cookout where you met Joker.

“Go check on Babs, I’m right behind you,” you tell Batman.

He hesitates, noticing exactly where your focus is, before tapping your shoulder and running toward Barbara’s door. When Batman is out of sight, Joker’s laugh surrounds you.

“Did you do it?” Joker asks, stepping out of the shadows.

“No.”

“Whyever not?” he asks with a laugh.

“Because I’m not a killer. We are not the same.”

“Come over here,” he demands. You listen despite your body’s urging to leave. “And give me a real reason,” he adds when you stop across a picnic table from him.

“That is the real answer. I will not do to another family what you did to mine. I’m not a killer.”

“Now, now, now, that’s not true.”

His eyes are fixed on your mask, likely imagining your furrowed brows and scared eyes. “Is the mask necessary, Reaper? We know one another. It’s just family here.”

You swallow as you rip the mask off, levelling your gaze on Joker, determined not to show him how affected he is.

“If you hurt her, I will end you.”

Joker flaps a dismissive hand. “She’s fine. I just needed a reason to celebrate, but you didn’t keep your end of the bargain.”

“I’m not-“

“A killer, yes, so you say. However, there’s a family out there that begs to differ.”

You lick your lips, unsure how he knows this. The record was redacted and eventually destroyed, so no one outside of your team at the time should know.

Joker’s laugh draws your attention back to him. “You are a killer. Just like me.”

Shaking your head, you flinch when Joker slaps his hands onto the table, leaning forward to get closer to you.

“Joseph,” Joker whispers, smiling widely at your surprised movement.

Someone screams in the distance, and you remember your promise: to protect your home, no matter the cost. Unholstering the gun you hadn’t carried in years, you hold it to Joker’s forehead.

“Do it,” he begs, leaning against the barrel. “Show them how alike we are.”

Your arm shakes as you fight to do it. With a finger on the trigger, Joker should be gone already, but you can’t do it.

Lowering the gun, you sigh, preparing for Joker’s next idea or a surprise dose of his laughing toxin. He watches you until he reaches for something. Before you can lunge forward to stop him, a shot rings out in the Gotham night. You hear it as Joker jerks to the side, slumping to the ground. Turning toward the right, you search the skyline for the shooter. You see a familiar salute and laugh to yourself as the silhouette disappears.

“Reaper!” Batman yells, rushing toward you. He slows as he sees you standing over Joker.

There’s a note, half blown apart. He took credit. You laugh again, oblivious to Batman’s concerned gaze on the back of your head. The laughter quickly turns to hiccups as you fight to remain composed. You walked out of Wayne Manor prepared to assassinate Joker. Now that you have essentially been an accomplice to his death and reminded of your worst mistake, you’re falling apart.

Bruce whispers your name, a hand on your arm as he turns you away. He raises a hand to your jaw as the first tear rolls down your cheek.

“I killed him,” you admit.

“No, you didn’t. That shot was too far away, no one will blame you.”

“I killed Joseph,” you repeat. “I didn’t see him, and there was so much fog and- I shouldn’t have taken the shot.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left the Army and joined SWAT because I killed a civilian. I don’t know how Joker knew, but he was right. I am a killer.”

“Hey, hey.” When you don’t respond, Batman summons the Batmobile, whispering to Gordon on the phone as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Once you’re in Wayne Manor, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and one of Bruce’s shirts, he pulls you into his arms.

“You’re not like Joker, and you’re not a killer. Friendly fire is a terrible thing, but it’s not your fault. You can’t keep blaming yourself for that. Saving people has its costs, and if I could take the guilt from you, I would.”

“I don’t even know how it happened,” you confess, “I dream about it all the time, but I don’t remember actually pulling the trigger.”

“You may never know. But either way, you can forgive yourself and move on.”

Wiping under your eyes, you lean against Bruce’s chest as you ask, “What did Gordon say? How’s Babs?””

“Their ballistics team is examining the velocity and angle to find where the shot came from. Barbara didn’t even know anything was happening, she’s fine.”

“The roof of Verdant in The Narrows,” you whisper, laying an open hand over Bruce’s heart.

“That’s too far for a shot like that.”

“Not for Army snipers.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Used to be,” you shrug before adding, “Lawton started killing for money, and I couldn’t support that.”

“Wait,” Bruce interjects, pushing you back slightly, ducking to look into your eyes. “You’re telling me that Deadshot just killed Joker? For free?”

“He doesn’t do anything for free,” you answer, smiling. “But I didn’t pay him if that’s what you think. Besides, he left a calling card of sorts.”

“Not at all. Batman will call Gordon tomorrow and let him know.”

“What’s Batman doing tonight?”

“He’s on vacation,” Bruce sighs, leaning his forehead against yours. “And Bruce Wayne is catching up with an old friend.”

Smiling, you turn sideways to press your chest against Bruce, laying your arms over his shoulders.

“I think that sounds like a great night.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“I found something,” Bruce says, removing his cowl as you enter the Batcave.

“A life?” you joke.

“Ha. No, I had a friend of mine go searching for that destroyed Army record.”

“Why?” you ask quietly, wringing your fingers together.

“Because you didn’t kill Joseph. Your gun never went off, and the shot came from a different direction with a much higher velocity. This looked like sniper.”

“You think it was Lawton?”

“Wouldn’t be surprising.” Bruce tilts your head toward him and looks you in the eye to add, “But the important thing is that you have no reason to keep carrying that burden.”

“Thank you. I don’t know what to say.”

“Come on patrol with me.”

“I thought you didn’t want me to get hurt.”

“You won’t. Not with me around.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, Bats.”

“Catwoman,” Batman answers.

“Reaper was looking for you a few nights ago.”

“Yeah, we ran into each other. Thanks, though.”

“She said you weren’t together like we were, but I find that very hard to believe.”

“Give them back,” you say, surprising both Catwoman and Batman.

“Give what back?” she parrots.

You hold your hand out. “The pearl necklace and earrings you stole. They’re not worth anything to the woman, but they’re sentimental.”

Catwoman huffs, pulling a small bag from her pouch and tossing it to you. “I chose them for you anyway.”

“What?”

“You said to steal something for you too.”

“I thought my best friend was about to get murdered, I didn’t mean it!”

“And did you mean what you said about not being with Bats here?” She places a hand on her hip, and you take the opportunity to look at Batman before answering.

“He’s just not my type,” you answer, shrugging one shoulder.

You see his jaw twitch before he nods his farewell to Catwoman.

“I didn’t mean it,” you whisper as you walk past him. “And we’ve got a crocodile to catch.”

Batman sighs. “Welcome to Gotham.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Whose are they?” Bruce asks as you examine the pearl jewellery.

“Mine,” you answer, not looking at him. “What are the chances she’d use my permission to thieve to rob me?”

“Not bad with Sel- Catwoman.”

“Selina Kyle, yeah, I know.”

“Sentimental, huh?”

You turn toward Bruce, passing him the necklace.

“I told your mom that I liked her pearls, like five months before she was killed, and the next day she surprised me. She picked me up from school and told me we were going shopping. They’re the cheapest ones the store had, but I’ve loved them ever since because they came from someone I loved and… I guess they made me feel a bit more like her, and she was amazing.”

When you look back at Bruce, he’s still holding the necklace, but his gaze is on you. He sets the necklace down, stepping toward you. Gripping your waist, he pulls you against him with a wide smile.

“You’re amazing too.”

“Not like her.”

“There’s no one quite like her. But she loved you too, more than you know. Actually, she thought we were going to get married,” Bruce adds, nudging his nose against yours.

“I did too,” you whisper.

Bruce kisses you quickly, pulling back to gauge your reaction.

“Based on the newspapers, I thought you’d be better than that,” you tease.

Bruce clicks his tongue before pulling you into another kiss. While he takes your breath, he fills you with love and hope. His hands keep you as close as possible, one sliding up to hold your head as he deepens the kiss, whispering something against your lips.

“Wait,” you mumble, moving your hands from his jaw to his chest. “What did you say?”

Bruce smirks, the charm that no one gets to see any more on display. “That I love you.”

Your eyes widen, and you grip his shoulders as you rise to kiss him, informing him that you feel the same. “I love you more,” you say against his lips, melting into him as you become one.

“My mom would want you to have her pearls,” Bruce whispers, rubbing his thumb in large sweeping motions against your upper hip. “And she’d want us to see where this goes.”

“Your mom was very smart,” you muse, putty in Bruce’s hands as he moves to the couch, tugging you into his lap.

“Did you love my mom enough to take her last name eventually?”

“This is more important – I love you enough.”

“Finally!” Alfred exclaims as he walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. “It is about time you officially join the family and take the name.”

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x reader #batman fic #bruce wayne fic #dc comics x reader

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coolcoolcoolbutwtf · 6 months

Text

Receptionist Danny working in the main Wayne lobby

First few days at the job site and Danny was already regretting getting this job.

Why?

Because this exact scenario had been repeated five times already just today. Not as persistent as THIS one though. God he is so tired of this bull. It got tiring after the third time now he's just tired and annoyed.

A bad combo considering Danny the "Town Menace Phantom" Fenton was beginning to lose the little patients he had left.

' just count down from ten like Jazz had taught me years ago'. Danny gave a sigh and kept repeating the mantra in his mind.

He has to stay strong he fought ghost for years! What is a few minutes worth of questions from a few eager journalist? He could handle Wes how could they be any worse?

Oh who was he kidding certainly not himself! Not after having suffered a day full of questions about shit he didn't know squat about.

This situation with this gender bent Wes was WORSE considering Danny couldn't just tell her to piss off. The others had just asked a few questions or had gotten turned down regarding questions. Not TO bad. He could handle it. He still kinda liked this job. Well, he likes the work benefits. It was the main reason he applied after all.

So give him some credit this was the sixth harpy "journalist" to come sniffing around after having gotten wind of a new employee in the main office. Though their sources must be bad. He was just a receptionist! Not the new head of the financing department or Bruce Wayne's new secretary, leave him alone!

He doesn't know what the company boss does??? Why ask him? How would lil' old receptionist Danny Fenton know!

Has he not suffered enough?? His suffering with this specific harpy had been going on for the past twenty five minutes.

"So, where does Bruce Wayne leave for during his meetings? A new woman? Man? Trouble in the family?"

Vicky Vale as she had introduced herself before had officially made Danny hear his last strained thread of patients fraying. He could only take so much before the menace in him gott done with this nonsense. Time for Ms Vale to go away, fuck off and not come back. Danny menace mode ON now.

Smiling the most customer service™ smile he could manage Danny responded in the flattest tone he was capable of.

"Well to fuck your mom of course, Ms Vale."

And of course at just the moment the older receptionist Ms Linda Smith that had been in charge of showing Danny the territory before retirement finally came back. With two coffee cups in her hands. She had taken off on her break the moment she spotted Ms Vale walking towards the front desk. She promised to grab him a coffee on her way back. Truly abandoning him to the wolves. Or wolf. She had bribed him and Danny hadn't even known what kind of suffering awaited him. Ms Linda had started speaking.

"Okay Danny no we don't---

Danny didn't know exactly what was up with the big boss and his family. Something was definitely up but he didn't think it was bad.

"And your dad, because we here at Wayne enterprises support the LBGTQIA community. Thank you and leave.

((((((((((((End )))))))))))) :)

Thank you for reading! I might do some more for this idea again. This is basically just the idea by @some-rotten-nest link below. I've had a similar idea about Danny being an evil assistant before. Not a receptionist though. It was fun writing this I keep thinking about all the interesting scenarios that could play out in this (Au?) Idea. Also I just wanted to test the waters. I've never written anything and actually posted it before. I hope this was okay. Um bye and have a good day oh am I kidding have a good night!

This idea is based on this https://www.tumblr.com/some-rotten-nest/725017913035276288/danny-fenton-a-new-receptionist-at-wayne by the amazing @some-rotten-nest ! I was just so inspired by it, all of my creative instincts were just itching to make something for this<3

>:D

#danny phantom #batman #writing #fanfic?#not my idea

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vinelark · 10 months

Note

hello!! out of curiosity, do you have a favorite scene you’ve written so far in bbts? and any headcanons specific for this au?

hello hello! so far my favorite scene is 100% the one in chapter 2 where tim calls jason to pick him up from the marina and kon goes full snarlbite at jason while tim regrets every choice he's ever made. i had that scene zerodrafted before i'd even finished the beginning of chapter 1 and had way too much fun adding to it as i went. second place might be an upcoming scene in chapter 4 where dick gets another crack at the title of Most Annoying Big Brother Ever (honorific). 😌

some headcanons for buy back the secrets-verse:

bruce's romantic life is a thorny, tangled web but he does have a steady thing with clark that lois is also aware of/sometimes involved in. it works very well for them. tim is aware of this enough to use it against bruce if need be but otherwise Does Not See It

duke does not join the crew yet in the timeline of this au but right now in his pre-batfam era i imagine he's running a semi-viral tiktok account where he posts skits making fun of various gotham rogues. (he does have a cameo in chapter 4!)

idk if this counts as a headcanon or as canon at this point but bruce is jewish in this au! this also make a brief appearance in chapter 4. and it is alluded to earlier, iirc.

of all the teen vigilantes running around steph is the one who worries bruce the most. not because she has shown any particularly evil or destructive inclinations, but because she's had the gall to 1) be robin 2) be robin as like, an internship, and 3) date one of bruce's kids twice. there is nothing bruce can do to intimidate her. she's too powerful.

re: the above: stephcass real.

after tim learned about ghost-maker he started logging all of khoa's safehouses in his not-at-all-stalkery bats-and-bat-adjacents database and sometimes shows up at them unannounced 😎 khoa finds this hugely irritating. tim is also khoa's favorite batkid. the two facts are not unrelated.

in a slight au of this au (some minor shifting timelines re: identity reveal) i like to headcanon that bbts could take place in the same universe as Lipstick on the glass

i think clark is genuinely jealous of kon's TTK (in a, like, "that ability is objectively really cool" kind of way), and he lets it show because it makes kon feel good about it. (it also, early on, made kon more determined to train his TTK so he could do cool tricks with it, which in turn helped him strengthen his control/range of abilities.)

kon is relatively popular at school in smallville but doesn't have many close friends there, because kon already imprinted hard on young justice / teen titans crew by the time he started school. he likes people at school just fine but his mind is usually elsewhere.

meanwhile tim has some civilian friends he genuinely cares about but purposefully distances himself from emotionally. everyone else at school at this point either does not think about him, dislikes him, or is morbidly fascinated by him re: his parents + getting scooped up by bruce wayne.

jason does not know how to turn off autocorrect on his phone and is too annoyed to look it up. tim messed with the settings one time and nearly got titans tower 2'd because of it

#tim made 'nightwing' autocorrect to 'my number 1 favorite vigilante ever for real' as a bday present for dick. jason didn't catch it in time #anyway oops that got long #a lot of these are chapter 4-centric because that's where i'm at #also a lot of the things i headcanon for tim and kon especially end up just getting dropped into the text itself #asks #my fic #batfam

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astronomoney · 2 years

Text

Pairing: Tim Drake x nb!reader (it’s not super romance heavy but I might do a part two)

Prompts: n/a this is purely self indulgent

Summary: sometimes life gives you lemons and sometimes life tells you your best friend and the guy you hate are the same person, your not sure what’s worse

Warnings: n/a

A/n: is this canon compliant? no. does it make much sense? not really. do I like and did I have fun writing it? absolutely. read at your own risk Masterlist also this should be totally nb but if you see anything that’s gender solid please let me know so I can fix it

Word count: 2k it got to long but there’s plenty of material for a second part (wink wink nudge nudge)

Secrets Spilled

Rich people suck. More specifically, rich teenagers suck. You should know, you go to school with one. Tim Drake, the pride and joy of Gotham Academy and the adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Was he actually adopted? You didn’t remember but that didn’t matter. Mr. Wayne has a habit of picking up strays almost as bad as Batman and Tim Drake was lucky enough to end up under his umbrella of wealth.

You had 3 classes with Tim Drake. He was smart and most of the teachers liked him well enough, in fact most of the school liked him. You however hated him. Sure he was cute and he seemed nice enough and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it but something about him was just off. Like he had some big secret or something.

No one at school seemed to agree with you on that. They all thought he was a perfect angel so you stopped trying to convince them of your anti-drake agenda a long time ago. Thankfully you had one person in your life who always listened to your rants.

“He sounds like a douchebag,” Red Robin said, sitting cross legged on your bed with an ice pack against his lip. Through some minor computer shenanigans, aka illegal hacking (nothing to bad), you had met and become close friends with none other than Red Robin.

It was a mutually beneficial friendship. For him it was an apartment almost exactly halfway between safe houses so on nights like tonight when he was a little bloody and bruised he’d stop by and you’d help patch him up. For you it was a captivated audience for your late night rants.

“Oh he totally is! Thank you for that, no one ever agrees with me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how many times you’d heard people gush about the billionaire brat. You sat down across from him and opened the first aid kit you’d just dug out from under your bed.

You were too busy rifling through the various bandages and ointments to notice your vigilante friend desperately trying to hide his smirk. “Yeah no problem,”

“He’s way smart too, which is super annoying.” You found the healing gel you were looking for. “I swear he’s hiding something, he must be like an alien or a robot or-” You looked up to see a laugh-suppressing-grin on the heros face, “Don’t laugh, I'm serious! This guy is a pain and just because he’s hot people let it slide!”

Red's face went completely serious and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks tint pink underneath his domino mask but then again his left side had a sizable cut on it so you really couldn’t tell. “You- you think he’s hot?”

“That is so not the point I'm trying to make!” You rolled your eyes and dabbed a bit of gel on the cut. “But yeah, his looks are like, his only redeeming quality.” Once you had laid a thin layer against the cut you used some butterfly bandages to hold it closed. It was exactly pretty but it would heal well, and the gel would make it nothing but a small scar in a week or so. “You know, you kinda look like him. Is that what you're hiding?” You used this opportunity to tap the bottom edge of the mask, resisting the urge to just take it off right then. “Rugged good looks and a billionaire smile.”

“Oh ha ha,” He retorted sarcastically, lightly moving your hand away from the fabric. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t dying to know his identity. It’s not that he didn’t want to tell you, it’s just that he’d heard you complain about his alter ego enough times to worry about your reaction, plus the whole ‘your-life-would-be-in-constant-danger-if-you-knew’ thing. Lately he’d found himself going out of his way to end up knocking on your window and he didn’t want what you had to change.

“You're no fun.” You huffed, hoping off the bed stashing the first-aid kit once again. You heard a small buzz and knew that Red had gotten an alert.

He stood up, and listen for a second. You could only guess he was getting instructions via earpiece. “Got it, I’m on my way.” He called over coms before turning back to you with an apologetic look.

You spoke before he could get an apology out. “Let me guess, some goon’s breaking open an ATM and everyone else is busy?”

“Pretty much yeah,” He ducked under your windowsill onto your fire escape. “Thanks for the help. I don’t know where I'd be without you.”

“Probably at that robbery already,” You gently shoved him the rest of the way through the window and bid him farewell. You watched him grapple off into the dim moonlight before getting back into your bed. Over the past few weeks you’d started staying up later just in case a certain someone happened by, this of course made that full 8 hours a little harder to come by. You didn’t really care though, a little less sleep for a little more time with him seemed like a fair trade.

The next morning finally came and you weren’t exactly pleased to hear the familiar beeping of your alarm clock. Still you forced yourself out of bed, pulled your uniform on and got your stuff together before heading out the door to another day at Gotham Academy.

You didn’t have any classes with Tim on Friday’s but you usually saw him passing you in the hall or at lunch. Today was different. One might even say he was avoiding you, but why. You saw a glimpse of him quickly heading away from you before second period, and at lunch you got a great view of the back of his head for about 30 seconds before he ducked out to go who knows where. Sure, you weren’t exactly friends but today it seemed he’d gone completely out of his way to make sure you didn’t see him. And it was pretty successful, at least until you literally collided with him.

School had let out and you had almost left the building before you remembered you’d left something behind, on your way back to your locker you turned a corner without caution and slammed into him at full force. It was a classic early 2000s movie scene, papers and books flying and strewn across the floor, both parties crouching down to collect up their scattered items and inevitably accidentally grabbing the wrong paper or two.

“Ah sorry, i’m so sorry I didn’t see-” That’s when you actually saw who it was you’d bumped into. “Tim?” You handed him the printed out english paper that definitely wasn’t yours.

“Sorry, I should have been watching where I was going.” He apologized as you both stood up and placed your papers in your respective books bags. Something about him was even more off then usual. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes, in fact he kept his gaze firmly to his left. Maybe he’d somehow heard you complain about him and now he wanted nothing to do with you. Maybe you’d messed it all up.

You were about to awkwardly say bye and shuffle off when a locker a little ways away from you slammed shut, startling you both and causing Tim to finally look to his right.

“Whoa what happened to your face?” You asked leaning in slightly to see the hefty gash that had been carefully held together with butterfly bandages. “That looks just like,” It clicked. “hOLY-”

“SHHH!” Tim acted fast, he clapped a hand over your mouth, effectively putting your mind shattering realization on silent and rushed the both of you into a thankfully unlocked maintenance closet nearby.

Suddenly a bajillion pieces were falling into place in your mind. Tim cursed. “God, if you know now what I think you know you’re gonna have a lot of questions. So I'm gonna move my hand but you have to be quiet about it. Ok?” He spoke softly and full of concern. After all, he may have just caused a massive overload in your brain. Your kind of enemy and your closest confidant were the same damn person, who knows what that could do to someone’s psyche.

You nodded profusely, still unable to even conjure a sound. Slowly Tim lifted his hand away from your mouth and watched you closely. You didn’t say anything for a beat, you just stared back at him and then, “What the actual fuck! You’re him and he’s- which means- I mean all this time- and… what?!?”

“Umm yeah?” In all honesty this was going better than Tim had imagined it would. Whenever he’d envisioned you finding out it usually started with you cursing him out and ended with you never talking to him again, but now here he was. You hadn’t cursed him out exactly and you were kind of still talking to him so overall, better than expected. “I wanted to tell you ages ago I swear. I just know how you feel about… well me,” He gestured down to his civilian attire. “and I wasn’t sure how you’d react.”

“All this time,” You were still definitely in shock. “All this time you were him and he was you! And you never told me! I talked about you to you! I called you hot!”

“Oh yeah, thanks by the way.” A shit eating grin had made its way onto his face and you were not pleased.

“Oh fuck off!” You sunk down to sit on a little step stool that happened to be in the closet. “I can’t believe I was so dumb. I mean how did I not see it sooner!”

Tim crouched down in front of you. “To be fair, we put a lot of effort into keeping our secrets.”

“We? Wait a second! If you’re Red Robin, that makes Batman-”

“Yup.”

“And Nightwing-”

“Oh yeah.”

“So Robin is-”

“A total pain in the ass. But yeah, it’s Damian.”

“Holy shit!”

Tim finally let himself laugh a bit at your reaction. You were smart and he knew that, there had been a few times over the past few weeks when he thought you might put it all together and he’d gone out of his way to cover it up. Including (but not limited to) a leaked story to the tabloids about a Tim-Drake-kidnapping-attempt that was thwarted by the one and only Red Robin.

While the tabloids weren’t the most believable sources it had planted a seed in your brain that Red Robin and Tim Drake were in the same place at the same time. Of course thanks to that cut on his cheek he wouldn’t need to lie to you anymore.

“Don’t laugh! I can’t believe I didn’t see this months ago. I mean your stupid mask doesn't even cover that much!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms in the air to emphasize your point.

Tim lightly grabbed your arms and brought them back down. “Ok ok, i’m serious but you seriously need to calm down.” He still had a massive grin on his face.

“I am calm!” You defended. “I mean considering. Wait, how did this start? Did you have to train long? When did you find out who Batman was? Is he really a Vampire?” You rattled off questions a mile a minute, finally the shock and slight annoyance had given way to pure curiosity.

Tim looked around the small maintenance room, contemplating a really bad idea. “I can’t explain anything else here, but if you want I can take you to the Batcave? I mean you’ve already guessed most of the secrets and even if I don't tell you the rest you’ll probably figure it out anyway.”

a/n: I broke 2k and couldn’t figure out a satisfying ending so I just called it here but if y’all show this one some love i’ll do a part too (guest appearances and everything)

taglist: @starship-argo @reveriecore @luvcoy @instabull @littlered-fangirl click here to be added :)

#identity reveal #tim drake x reader #writing fanfiction #writing fanfic #batboys x reader #dc x reader #red robin x y/n #red robin x reader #tim drake fluff #tim drake #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x fem!reader #writing #dc writers #x reader #dc fanfic #robin x reader

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omegaversebookshelf · 7 months

Text

BatFamily: Omegaverse Edition

I have been recently re-hit by my enduring, overwhelming love for these anxious, extremely competent, disaster humans. So I'm making this post to cope with the Feelings.

This is just going to be a breakdown of the gender designations I usually give each member of the family, and why, the short version, because there's a lot of them. (Does include some more peripheral members, the only requirement to be included here is to be part of the core cast really)

I might do more in-depth posts for them on an individual basis at some point in the future.

Also this post is p much ship-neutral, with some acknowledgements of canonical relationships.

In age order...

Talia: (Becuase she is actually the oldest rip) Talia is an omega. Her relationship with Ra's in the comics is in a large part defined by his despair that she would be the perfect heir "were she not a woman" (pause for eyeroll) (Ra's is an alpha, of course. He doesn't get a full section because fuck him) This is just that scaled up. She also took control of multiple criminal organizations partly by weaponizing her femininity (but mostly by killing people and we love that for her). This also adds some layers of complication to her relationship with Damian. And also the rest of the Bats and Birds but Damian is the one she cares about.

(Also like, on a more serious note, the absolute character assassination she has undergone during her run time is horrific in a way that is very much centered around her identity as a woman, and specifically a woman of color, and I cannot in good conscience ignore that. Fuck Grant Morrison. All my homies hate Grant Morrison)

Alfred: Alfred is an alpha. Yes, I know most fics have him as a beta but I firmly believe alpha fits more with both his backstory (military and theater) and character (very protective and willing to get lethal with it.) He's a very low-key alpha, who, as the Wayne family butler, most people assume to be a beta, but his is very much an alpha.

Bruce: I write Bruce as a beta. Brucie Wayne is the epitome of non-threatening himbo and being a neutral beta helps with being not taken seriously as a danger. It also adds a wider layer of disguise for Batman, since the general consensus is that Batman has to be an alpha. (Also lets me have the trinity be "one each"* and that makes me happy. They’ll get their own post together soon)

Beta Bruce also means he gets to be consistently flummoxed by his children’s situations. He is more comfortable with alpha things, since both Alfred and his parents are/were alphas so they’re more familiar to him.

Selina: An omega. (As you can tell, Bruce may or may not have a bit of a weakness for omega women who don't take anybody's shit XD) Selina is an archetypal femme fatal (though also so much more) couldn't have her be anything else. This also adds to her reputation in Crime Alley, both in the sense of building herself into a serious faction and in her reputation as a safe space for strays.

Barbara: An alpha. More independent than the rest of her generation, only a Bat on her own terms and has never worked for Batman, only with him. As Oracle, who most people never meet in person, she is fairly genderless, though very much fem-presenting, but that counts a bit less in an omegaverse context.

Dick: Dick Grayson is an omega, the tendency towards being flattened into "sexy golden retriever and support of the family" and ignoring of the very real complexity in his character and storylines? he couldn't be anything else. (No, I'm not salty, don't @ me) Robin is genderless/gender neutral, Nightwing is an omega. (Titans era Dick Grayson did not give a flying fuck, as appropriate for a run about teenagers figuring out who they are in the world.)

Cass: I usually write Cass as either a beta or an omega. Part of her character is how she is deceptively non-threatening at first glance while being able to absolutely wipe the floor with the majority of her opponents. I usually lean beta for her, because I think it adds to her bond with Bruce. She has very firm connections with Babs, because of her support and care, so giving her that kind of mirror to Bruce helps balance out that relationship. It also allows for the continuation of Beta Batman in the Future. (Because Cass absolutely should be the next Batman I have been saying this for a decade and I stand by it)

Jason: Jason is an alpha. There is just something about the particular flavor of non-toxic masculinity that comes with Jason’s character that I think lends itself to this very well. Also something something expectations of violence and choices.

Stephanie: Steph is an omega. When I was first figuring these out (back in like, 2016-ish) I went back and forth between beta and omega for her before ultimately coming down in favor of omega. On the shallow side, it allows for the three main batgirls to hit each gender option. On the character history side I think it fits her teen pregnancy storyline she had. And it just fits her particular story imo. She fought literally everyone to be a vigilante. Everyone in her life has told her no at some point.

Tim: Works well with any gender, I usually opt for beta!Tim just because I think it lends itself well to his general perception as Bruce’s mini-me (despite how far from the truth that is in some significant ways). Usually if I’m not writing him beta I’m writing him alpha.

Duke: Duke I lean towards alpha both because it helps balance the family out (the perils of being the newcomer) and also I have a fondness for “chill but also absolutely unhinged” characters as alphas. Also, in a similar way to Jason, his gender means people tend to assume/underestimate how much his intelligence is involved in what he does (intersectionality also hits hard here let’s be real). I just really like the idea of Jason and Duke sending like, crossword puzzles back and forth to each other as a weird form of bonding okay.

Damian: Imma be honest Damian is who I go back and forth on the most. Any option gives a good story for his character, they’re just all different ones. Baby Damian would consider being an omega something to be ashamed of, being an alpha proof of his superiority, and being a beta merely acceptable (and maybe a way to relate to his father). As he grows into the person he is now, it would be either accepting his own worth, or accepting the worth of others, and figuring out how his gender identity and the social roles that come with it play into who he is as a hero and as a person.

I adore Damian so much. When I first was getting into comics he and Dick were just wrapping up their stint as Batman and Robin and they hold a special place in my heart.

Genetically, all three options are possible for him, his mother is an omega, his father a beta, and at least three out of four grandparents are alphas.

#omegaverse #dc comics #Batfamily #Bruce Wayne #talia al ghul #selina kyle #dick grayson #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #jason todd #stephanie brown #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #rain rambles

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bruciemilf · 1 year

Text

No, but Battinson and Simon "Ghost" Riley? Copy and paste. Emo in italics vs Emo in Bold.

For my " Alfred trained Ghost at some point and of course Bruce grows up with an annoying ass older brother" agenda.

I'm sorry, but I simply can't help but drool and cry and scream over Clark visiting the manor because Bruce demanded to keep traction of his powers, -

(translation: Bruce is worried and wants to offer healthcare to the indestructible Kryptonian in the best way he knows how)

-, and look. He can't exactly HELP peeking through privacy. But, honestly? A part of him feels like it's better.

He hasn't felt an ounce of awkwardness around Damian ever since he heard that " how to make friends" tutorial from his room. It's easier to make eye contact with Jason when Clark knows he cries at Little Women. (He gets it. He does, too.)

And Tim can't really intimidate him like he used to now that Clark knows he needs a tutorial on how to grill cheese.

He likes it. Its not a bridge, not quite yet, but it IS a foundation.

One thing IS curious, thought. Alfred.

Alfred, whose warm voice is very comforting, like a spoon of sugar In a cup of mint tea,

" I don't suppose you'll be visiting soon, love?"

There's one detail that actually MAKES Clark want to listen. He didn't know Alfred's accent had a twang of Manchester to it.

But it's the voice on the other line, - gruff, grainy but pleasant, deep and whispery, - that stirs his curiosity,

" Don't tell me Bambi's dyin' to see me?"

Bambi?

" He specifically instructed me not to invite you again, actually. He's never quite recovered from that tea bag incident."

Faint gun sounds. Then a deep, chilling silence, " Ain't my fault no one thought 'em street combat. Soap says hi, by the way. Price still waitin' on that dinner date."

" Tell him to come here and get it. If he dares. And bring John at once! This silent pining of yours won't get you anywhere."

A pause, in which Clark feels an invisible pressure settle over him. He feels cornered. It's foreign, and nasty, on the wrong side of admiration.

" ...I'll see you in a blink, Pop."

" See you then, love."

When Bruce comes back, elegant, dainty, violence stained hands full with sweet treats Clark has no taste for, entirely for him only, he burns to ask about this mystery son.

But then again, it's really funny seeing Bruce on the receiving end of being investigated. He has no clue how Clark finds these things out, putting Superman above petty things like eavesdropping.

Clark Kent, however, won't bother. It's way too much fun.

If he had half a mind to ask, then maybe future Clark would know how to prepare for Simon "Ghost - AKA Bruce Wayne's Tank Older Brother " Riley better.

Why Am I looking up why am I looking up why am I looking, -

"You're hard to kill."

" ...Thank you."

" It's not a compliment. "

Bruce pouts, - and a fragment of Clark, who's currently doing his best not to hide behind his cape like an overfed 6 year old (because good lord, that mask), is endeared.

It's nice to see Bruce like this, - grumpy but relaxed and filled with loving annoyance. " This could've been a Facebook message."

Ghost shrugs, big hand messing up Bruce's hair, all bored and affectionate, " We celebratin' Jay's 9th birthday, don't we? Can't do that over call."

" Jay is 23."

Ghost shrugs, " I stopped counting after Dick, Bambi."

That...Was adorable. In a messed up, way too accurate manner.

"Besides," And Jason clearly learned " stabs you with a single stare" from the right person, " I heard it's open season in Gotham."

Clark gulps behind his smile.

#if dc refuses to give bruce cool older siblings guess what???? i will #clark kent #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #simon ghost riley #simon riley #dc x cod #cod mw2 #batfam #batfamily #protective simon riley #soft bruce wayne #superbat

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just-an17archer · 1 year

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Hogwarts Batfamily

So I thought I'd do my own take at sorting various members of the Batfamily into the Hogwarts Houses.

PART 1 (main)

Some of these characters seem like they'd be easy to sort but I spent a ridiculous amount of time going back on my choices, switching them and switching them again. This is the end result, tell me your thoughts :D

Bruce Wayne/Batman: Ravenclaw

Even though Batman has Gryffindor traits like courage and standing up for those who can't for themselves, Batman, and consequently Bruce Wayne, is mainly a Ravenclaw.

This is the World's Greatest detective, he has contingencies upon contingencies, even for his greateast allies. He prepares, has millions of plans and his mind is his greatest weapon. It's not by chance that there are so many debates over who would win- a super powered character or Batman with prep-time. He is that good.

Alfred Pennyworth: Hufflepuff

Alfred is the embodiment of a Hufflepuff. He stands by Bruce no matter what, his loyalty is one of his greatest characteristics. He is humble, hard-working and trustworthy, he'll always be there for his family and they know they can always count on him.

Also he does always make/have great snacks.

Dick Grayson/Nightwing: Hufflepuff

Dick was one of the hardest to sort. He has a lot of Gryffindor qualities like his leadership skills and courage but at the end I'd still put him on Hufflepuff.

He deeply cares for everyone around him, he is caring and attentive and he's one of the greatest support systems for his younger siblings especially when Bruce is being even more alergic to feelings.

Dick is someone you know will always be there for you and who you can count on to have your back.

Another point in the Hufflepuff board is his ability for the light, he is the original boy wonder, he took this great tragedy that happened to him and used it to fuel him, not as a way to get revenge but as a way to protect people and be there for them. He is the light in Batman's darkness, he's the one constantly surrounded by darkness but is the first to offer a kind word or smile to anyone who needs it.

Jason Todd/Red Hood: Ravenclaw

Another tough one and slightly more controversial. People usually put Jason in Slytherin (because he is the anti-hero, the sarcastic tough guy) or Gryffindor (for his impulsiveness and bluntness).

I disagree, I was torn between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor but Ravenclaw ended up winning. There's a lot of misconception around what is necessary to be in a specific Hogwarts house. Even though Jason has a different moral compass from the other Bats, that doesn't make him a Slytherin. Yes, he did a great deal of planning when he was returning to Gotham but I believe having this ability to thoroughly plan things is more a consequence of the bat-training than a Slytherin tendency.

About Gryffindor I agree that his bluntness, courage and stubborness could make him a strong candidate but going even further I reached the conclusion Ravenclaw is the house for him.

He is a book worm, and while I understand that is not the only condition to make someone a Ravenclaw (I am a bookworm and not a Ravenclaw), it all adds up. His thrist for knowledge even when he was Robin (it's canon that he loved school), his plans and preparedness as a Ravenclaw symbol instead of a Slytherin one, even his quips about classic literature. He has always shown a skill for learning (academically or otherwise) and what is more Ravenclaw than challenging the notions everyone else believes and using critical thinking to reach another conclusion and stand by it (the moral compass thing)?

Tim Drake/Red Robin: Slytherin

Here it was between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but Slytherin easily won.

It can be argued that Tim possesses the greatest mind in all of the Batfamily (even against Batman), he outwitted Ra's Al Ghul in this Red Robin run.

The first of many Slytherin traits, but if you want even more proof, here:

This is the person that staged a shooting against his public figure, commiting to months of physical therapy just so that no one could connect him to Red Robin;

He was the only one that believed that Bruce was alive and so he went on a solo journey to prove this, not looking over the means to achieve his end (including creating Red Robin to do what Robin couldn't and allying himself with Ra's Al Ghul). And thanks to him they were able to rescue Bruce from the time stream;

Like Batman he has contingencies and detailed plans to stop not only villains but heroes as well if necessary;

He prepared a plan so complex that, while Tim did nothing but watch it unfold, Captain Boomerang would be presented with various choices that would lead to his death (he did this as a way to avenge the death of his father);

And finally and most importantly, he was not chosen for Robin. He made Bruce make him Robin. He knew Batman needed a Robin, needed his light in the darkness and so, armed with the knowledge of Batman and the Robins' identity (which he figured out when he was 9) he made his case to Bruce and never gave up until he was made Robin.

Tim is determined, manipulative, driven, a perfectionist, well prepared and sometimes ruthless. If this doesn't make him a Slytherin, I don't know what will.

Damian Wayne: Hufflepuff

Most people would sort Damian into Slytherin, given his initial holier-than-thou attitude and the importance he gives to blood legacy.

These are clearly a product of his upbringing and as we continue to watch Damian grow we keep seeing new aspects of his true personality shine through.

His love for animals and all who belong to the animal kingdom is an obvious one, but also the protectiveness he shows towards those he holds dear, like his favorite sibling Dick or his best friend Jon Kent.

So, if you see past the hard exterior, I think you'd find an unconventional but true Hufflepuff.

(He'd also like to be in Hufflepuff to be closer to Dick, even if he world deny ever expressing such a feeling)

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wrencatte · 8 months

Note

Oooh I’m liking their whumpy titles so can I ask about “water torture” and “stress position” !! And then bc I need to feel nicer, what about “community”?

Thank you for sharing your WIPs with us!!! ❤️

<3 <3 thank you for asking!

water torture! I actually posted about this one a while ago. It's a very specific water torture I've been eyeing for a few years now to put a character through (Mythbusters did an episode about it!)

Maybe it’s the blood loss. Does he have blood loss? He might have blood loss.

Another droplet hits his forehead. He flinches. It’s almost cold with how superheated he feels – like a fever but worse because there’s no relief. Hopefully it’s not actually a fever. That would monumentally fucking suck.

He tries to tilt his head, but concrete blocks one way and then the other just leads to the edge of a one-inch lip digging into the back of his head. It makes it even more uncomfortable than just accepting the annoyance of water dripping. For good measure he reaches for his helmet, finding it just slightly out of reach. Thanks, past Jason, real helpful. He strains for it a little bit longer before his chest starts screaming at him and he pulls back.

Cool.

Drip.

Jason sniffs. Water runs down his forehead to pool in his ears. He scratches it out of one of them, but the other is – he tilts his head over. It only helps a little. He closes his eyes, listens hard for sirens or deliberate rubble shifting beyond the, quite frankly terrifying, sounds of the building settling.

Until another drop smacks him right out of it. Fuck. Jason squeezes his eyes shut and starts counting instead. One. Two. Three. Four. Drip. One. Two. Three. Four. …Five…Six. Drip. One. Two. Drip – oh come on!

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me!” Jason all but howls at the pipe.

Drip.

stress position....that one's been tricky. I keep trying to come back to it. it's a 2022 whumptober prompt. but the vibe of this one is A+ (to me)

Jason spits at their heels as the men leave the room, the door snapping shut. He misses them by a mile, bloody saliva falling short which is such a shame because their boots were so shiny. The room is dark and freezing. His shivers feel like he’s seizing instead, muscles contracting painfully, bruises and open wounds pulling. There’s a click-click, and even colder air blows in from somewhere, making him groan. Fucking hell.

He’s stung up like a piece of meat. Wrists bound painfully together and hooked on, well, a meat hook, then bound to that for good measure or else he would’ve used his impressive core control and unhooked himself a long time ago. He can touch the ground, barely, with the tips of his bare toes – because, oh yeah, they took his helmet and his shirt and his boots and his goddamn socks. The weight is hell on his shoulders. He can only stand on his toes for so long. The angle does this weird thing to his lungs, making it hard to breathe if he’s not paying attention.

"because I need to feel nicer" I am so sorry....

It only takes them a week – it hasn’t made the news yet, buried by the scrolling headlines of BRUCE WAYNE’S SON KILLED IN TERRORIST ATTACK and the unspoken agreement to ignore it. But Gothamites always know. The air had changed when Robin left the first time. Sad and melancholy and a low, simmering anger that didn’t know where it wanted to go.

Robin leaves a second time and there’s nothing useful about the word sad when it’s grief, heavy and burdening. Rage, explosive and violent. Devastation. A pleaded bargain in every broken bone and hospitalization, in every reckless plan.

The Batman – well, he disappears fully into the shadows that he never quite blended into when he had a brightly colored Robin at his side. The kid had been like a sunbeam peeking between clouds, cutting through the darkness, and letting everyone see the bright day ahead.

When Batman stopped letting himself be seen. When he stopped lingering after scenes to comfort and console.

As days and days passed, Robin never showed his face again.

That’s when they knew, and they finally had to acknowledge it.

Robin wasn’t coming back.

#asked and answered #my writing #jason todd

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deepwithintheabyss · 9 days

Note

For the fic writer asks: 4, 8, and 12? <.<

4. a story idea you haven’t written yet

I'm gonna assume this means like written and posted and not "not even written down"

been thinking about some Zombies au's the last few days, two specific concepts stuck in my mind that I'd love to try out

Jason crawls out of his grave in the middle of an apocalypse maybe the ground was softer or the reason he came back differently, (sometimes I like to hc that a lot of his brain damage besides from trauma (mental and physical) was also from the lack of air as he crawled out) or maybe he just has more reason to recover because you know, man eating zombies stumbling around (and he does not get hit by a car) anyway he makes his way to Wayne Manor, to Bruce etc. and finds some kid has holed himself up there, all alone

Tim, lost his spleen, he should be guaranteed to die from the strain of the zombie virus as it tries to transform him...but he survives?? without turning???? Barbara is trying to find out why, the rest of the base is distrustful of him, Jason still blames himself for Tim getting bitten, they haven't talked to the others in ages...

8. if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

Well I am trying to write a sequel for the Vampire King Dick fic I've got, if we don't count that- oh wait 🤔 the wording kinda implies any fic goes 👀

I kinda wanna mix two of @kieran-granola fics together, the Mommy kink one, specifically the hair kink Jason has /the scene where Tim teases him with it and the one where Tim gets turned into a cat

like 😏the things he could and should do to Jason with that tail

for my own fics hmm well, maybe for the werwolf fic, because then it would imply I finished that!!! or i guess idk hmm secret or one of my other plot heavy ideas....

12. a trope you’re really into right now

is answered here

Ask Game

#the abyss speaks #vellaphoria #my asks #ask game

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darker-dc-dimensions · 1 year

Text

Richard “Dick” Grayson

Last bat post time jump

Emojis used: 🐦⌛

(this image is just a placeholder for now)

His information is very similar to himself pre time jump, though there are some differences.

General Information

First name: Richard “Dick”

Middle name(s): John

Surname: Grayson

Age: Mid 20s

Date of birth: Marc 20th

Race: Romani

Gender: Cis Male

Sexuality: Bi

Current residence: Apartment in Bludhaven and an apartment in Gotham, though he spends most of his time at Wayne Manor

Relationship status: Single

Social status: Upper class.

Universe (AU universe of origin): The Last Bat

Traits of Voice

Accent (if any): Doesn’t have much of an accent as he’s trained himself out of having one, though there are some moments where he has a slight Romani accent, though its only specific words or phrases at this point.

Language spoken: English

Other languages known: Romani, Spanish, Russian, French, German, Japanese, Cantonese, Turkish, Arabic, League of assassin’s dialect, Swahili, Mandarin, Filipino, Korean, Polish, Latin, Greek, Italian, Portuguese, Hebrew, Thai, Vietnamese, Swedish, Kryptonian, Atlantean, Ancient Greek, Tameranean, Sign language. (Most taught to him by Bruce Wayne)

Volume of voice: Speaks at a middle volume, he is able to be loud and has a voice that really carries across areas and rooms. A real performers voice.

Physical Appearance

Height: 5´10

Eye colour: Blue

Skin colour: Tan.

Distinguishing features: Slight bags under his eyes from his night work. Muscular build tho he is on the narrower side, as his body is more used for flexibility and movement.

Hair colour: Black

Hair style: slightly longer and parted. Think like Nightwing 2016.

Tattoos: Has none but plans on getting a Robin tattoo over his heart. He wants more than one but is waiting for when his mission is finished.

Piercings: Has his ears pierced, along with his eyebrow, nose, and tongue. Wears the ear piercings on the regular, but takes them out to patrol.

Typical clothing: Is dressed pretty casually, doesn’t care much for keeping up appearances of the rich son of Bruce Wayne. Prefers comfort over looks. Sweatpants or denim pants, t-shirts with goofy pictures on the front, hoodies, etc. Has a lot of clothes that are superhero merch because he finds it funny.

Is seen by others as: He used to be seen as very sweet and approachable, the most approachable of all the Wayne children actually. He’s always smiling and welcoming, though he is very protective of his family and friends. He isn’t scared of getting into fights to protect his family either, the public knows this because of a happening at a gala where someone tried to put their hands on Cassandra and Dick decked them.

Health

Sleeping habits: Has a horrible sleeping schedule like the rest of the batfamily, he sleeps even less to keep up with his mission though he sleeps more than he does in the future.

Energy level: Though he doesn’t sleep a lot he still has a high energy level.

Eating habits: He makes sure he has a healthy diet and eats what he needs to keep up his body and lifestyle, but he will indulge in sweets and things that don’t fit his “diet”. You can never stop him from eating Alfred’s cooking.

Memory: He has perfect memory, as it has been trained into him after all these years.

Any unhealthy habits: insomnia, self-harming, self-punishment, smoking, etc. He does his best to keep these a secret from friends and family.

Relationships

Parents: John Grayson (birth parent), Mary Grayson (Birth Parent), Bruce Wayne (Adoptive Father)

Siblings: Jason Todd (adopted), Tim Drake (Adopted), Damian Wayne (Adopted), Cassandra Caine (Adopted), Duke Thomas (Adopted), Stephanie Brown (Adopted), Jean-Paul Valley (Adopted in spirit but not on paper)

Any enemies (and why): Too many enemies to count.

Children: He saw Damian as his son, as he took care of him and was his support system up until Bruce returned from the timestream. Afterwards Dick and Damian were still closer than Bruce and Damian.

Friends: his teammates. Like Wally, Kori, Roy, etc etc

Best friend(s): Wally West

Important friends/relatives (explain): Wally West. In the future after losing everything Dick went down a very dark and self-destructive path and threw Batman’s no killing rule into the wind. He was barred from the justice league because of his self-destructive behavior, and he drew away from others and became rough and mean to be around. Most cut contact with him because he felt like a lost cause, everyone except Wally left Dick to his own devices. Even when Dick would snap and yell at Wally and demand he leave him, Wally never left him and always came back. It ended with Dick breaking down in Wally’s arms, and Dick will never be the same he was before and he is still prickly and cold to others, but at least he has Wally.

Now that he is back in the past Wally is still extremely important to him and one of his biggest comforts and safespaces outside of his family. He knows that Wally would stand by him even if he breaks because he did in the future, and Dick trusts Wally deeply.

Love interest (if there is one): None, though he has had feelings for Wally in the past and they’re still there, though he will never act on them. They are stronger than ever now that he’s in the past again, but he doesn’t want to act on them in fears of losing Wally.

Combat

Peaceful or violent: Violent. Though he keeps up the peaceful appearance around his fellow heroes.

Weapon (if applicable): Trained in many weapons, though he prefers hand to hand, escrima sticks, and smaller knives or blades.

Style of fighting: close to mid-range combat is his best, though he can do any type of battle really.

Others

Occupation: Was a police officer but quit, hes looking for work half heartedly now that hes back in Gotham.

Current home: Wayne Manor

Favourite types of food: Shakshuka, Crab stuffed mushrooms. Pancakes, specifically buckwheat pancakes

Favourite types of drink: Earl grey and herbal teas, black coffee.

Hobbies/past times: Spending time with his family and anything they like doing in general. Hanging out with his friends and Wally. Doing acrobatics and training.

Guilty pleasures: Cuban sandwiches. Pineapple on pizza. Mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Pet peeves: People being too involved in his business or trying to get too comfortable with him. Aka people caring too much, he always assumes they want something or do it for a bad reason.

Pets: Has a puppy named Haley.

Favourite colours: Blue, Red and Black.

#character introduction #dc #dc rp #dc roleplay #dick grayson rp #Dick Grayson 🐦⌛#dick grayson roleplay #darkerdcdimensions #darker-dc-dimensions #justice league rp #batman rp #Last bat au #🐦⌛#nightwing #nightwing rp #dc au #dc au rp #dc au roleplay

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ao3feed-brucewayne · 11 months

Text

Catch A Ghost By It's Tail

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/EQu3OKC

by ArtemisMoore

The Joker has escaped from Arkham and the Batfam is understandably on edge. Joker is dangerous, unpredictable, and cruel. He has lines he won't cross but everything else is free game. So the team does what they have to do. They push off making the Ghost hunting weapons and bring back old rules and introduce them to Danny in hopes of keeping everybody safe. The rules are simple. Rule 1: Nobody faces Joker alone. Rule 2: Carry gas masks at all times (even Danny). Rule 3: Stay in radio contact at all times. And Rule 4: Come home alive, secret identity intact or not.

They should be pretty easy to follow (except for the come home alive one because - duh) but it's hard not to face the Joker alone when he specifically goes out of his way to target 'the new bat'.

Words: 14746, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of Phantom in Gotham

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Wayne Family Adventures (Webcomic)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Characters: Danny Fenton, Joker (DCU), Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Damian Wayne, Sam Manson, Tucker Foley, Jazz Fenton, Valerie Gray, Alfred Pennyworth

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton & Jason Todd, Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Trans Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton-centric, BAMF Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, and he gets one, Hurt Danny Fenton, Protective Danny Fenton, Protective Jason Todd, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Team as Family, minor torture, Does this count as torture?, Kidnapping, Kidnapped Danny Phantom, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Not Beta Read, ghost speak

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/EQu3OKC

#IFTTT #bruce wayne #batman #the dark knight #the cape crusader #gotham #dc universe #ao3 #ao3feed

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aimless-imagines-for-fun · 3 years

Text

Racing Heart

Pairing :: Clark Kent x short/petite fem!Reader

Warnings :: Smut, Size Kink

Word Count :: 4,265

Summary :: You never knew why, but whenever you were around Clark, your heart always raced.

A/N :: Just an fyi, I used Henry Cavill’s Clark Kent, but I used the comic book height of Clark, which is 6′3′’, versus Henry’s 6′1′’

You never quite understood why, all you knew was that your heart always started racing when you were close to Clark. It wasn’t whenever you saw him, or when you were just in the same room as him. It was only when you were able to notice how small you were compared to the 6’3’’ man.

There were many occasions when this happened. Whenever Clark hugged you, helped you grab something on a top shelf, or even when he was standing so close to you, you two almost touched, your heart began racing. It had gotten to the point where you went out of your way to avoid getting close to the man, making sure you were always on the opposite side of the room from him.

There were three specific times though that made your face heat up just thinking about them.

The first one was in the break room.

You had managed to open the cabinet doors right above the refrigerator, but were struggling to grab the box of plastic utensils. You always forgot to bring a fork or spoon from home for your lunch, though you never had to worry about it because The Daily Planet had some. Of course, in an office full of tired reporters, others were bound to forget their utensils as well, and thus the box that was placed on the counter was now empty.

You stood on your tippy-toes, fingers barely grazing the corner of the box. The heels your wore offered no help, only adding a mere inch and a half to your height. You open the cabinet with ease, and a huff of annoyance left you when you saw the box of forks was on the second shelf. You had grown so frustrated, you began hopping just to try and hit the box that you now believed was taunting you. However, your hopping was working, as you managed to hit the corner repeatedly to make the box slowly come out. You didn’t care if you were wearing a skirt. It ended right before your knees and you were wearing black tights so it was fine.

You just needed one more good hop and you knew you’d be able to grab the box. You bent your knees only slightly, and then-

“Do you need some help?” A deep kind voice asked, followed by a large hand reaching past you and grabbing the box.

You whipped your entire body around, now facing a tie and button-down plaid shirt. You tilted your head up, seeing the man from Kansas, Clark Kent. He was giving you one of his classic golden boy smiles, looking down at you.

You gave him a small smile in return, and you could feel your heartbeat begin to grow faster. Perhaps Clark sneaking up behind you startled you, and he seemed to notice.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I just saw you were struggling for a bit,” He commented, holding the box out for you.

You grabbed it, thanking him quietly before a small idea popped into your head. “Were you watching me?”

You swore you saw a small tint on Clark’s cheeks as he let out a cough to clear his throat. “Um, no, I had walked by earlier and saw you struggling then, and, well, when I came back I saw you were still here so I decided to help.”

You let out a small giggle. “I’m teasing Clark.”

You saw him visibly ease up, letting out a small exhale. Little did you know he had been staring at you for a small while before he helped you. Watching you hop up and down had brought a small smile of amusement to his face.

The second one was in the supply room.

Some people bought their supplies, and that was their stash. Others, such as yourself, helped themselves to the abundance of the supply room. What you had just ran out of only moments ago were sticky notes. You used them quite often, not only for notes but also for little drawings you did to pass the time. As a matter of fact, your entire desk was nearly covered with either small memos or doodles of random characters.

The sticky notes, unfortunately, were located on the top shelf. To add to your bad luck, there was also no stepping stool or ladder. Now, you could’ve been rational and go get someone taller to help. ‘Nah, I got this,’ you thought as you carefully began to climb up on the shelves. You believed in your climbing abilities, even in your heels. Admittedly, it was a bit awkward trying to grip onto the shelves, and the heels of your feet were hanging off, but you felt secure enough.

You reached the top shelf with relative ease, only needing to step up two shelves. Then came the matter of the box of sticky notes that had yet to be open. There was no way you could open the box to grab the small number of notepads you needed, not without both hands though. You could throw the box down, but what were the chances of it breaking open and creating a mess? ‘I really should’ve thought this one through a little better,’ you regretted.

Busy thinking of how to get the sticky notes down(along with how often you found yourself in this sort of ‘you’ve made your bed now lay in it’ situations you’ve been in) you didn’t notice the door open and close once again. “(Y/N)?”

“Wha- Ah!” You let out a squeal, losing your balance from being pulled from your train of thought. Your eyes widened and your heart froze, feeling your feet slip off along with your grip.

You squeezed your eyes shut, ready for the oncoming impact from the floor, along with the pain. Thankfully, the person who had caused your fall was quick enough to save you. Instead of feeling the hard tiled floor, you felt a pair of strong arms catch you. They held you close, almost squeezing you a bit too tight, but you felt safe in the embrace. You opened your eyes, blinking a few times to make sure you were indeed okay. You looked up to see who had caught you, your (e/c) eyes locking with blue ones behind a frame of glasses.

There was a clear worried look on Clark’s face. “You need to be careful (Y/N), you can’t just climb up shelves. If you need help, ask for it,” He continued to scold you, but you couldn’t focus on a thing he was saying.

Your heart was pounding, though you thought it was from the adrenaline of almost falling, and your mind was elsewhere. You couldn’t listen to him with him still holding you, it was all your mind was focused on. His grip on you was frim, and you were so close to him you could smell his cologne, citrus with a hint of musk. You always knew you were petite in build, but being held like this made you feel tiny. ‘His arms are so big. Am I really this small? He doesn’t look like he’s struggling at all. When does he have the time to work out? How-’

“(Y/N) are you even listening to a thing I’m saying?”

You blinked once, looking at him with big eyes. “Um… You’re still holding me…” You pointed out, a small blush coming to your cheeks. Unable to look at him any longer, your eyes darted down, missing his flustered face.

He put you down quickly, apologizing, and you told him not to just as quickly in response. After, you thanked him and rushed out without even taking a single sticky note with you. Later on in the day though, when you had walked away and returned to your desk, there were two sticky note pads on your desk.

The third one was at a charity event.

You and Clark were assigned to the event together as it was a rather large event. The money being raised was for meta-human teens and children, to help them better understand their abilities safely.

After hearing the guest list, you knew you had to wear the one forest green dress you wore to every fancy event. It was the nicest, and expensive, dress you owned. You paired it with three-inch black heels and a simple opal pendant. You never like dressing up too much. Clark wore a simple muted dark brown suit, with a navy blue button-up and blue tie to match it.

Now, it was rather tricky to keep your distance from Clark this time, and you really didn’t want to get flustered during work. Before it was at work, now it would be during work. There was a difference, granted a small difference, but still, a difference. At work, you just minded your business, and on occasion, goofing off when you weren’t writing an article. Here you were supposed to be interviewing and taking notes of everything happening. You couldn’t miss something important because Clark wanted to dance and you couldn’t keep your mind straight after. He didn’t ask you to dance, but, if he did you’d refuse.

“So, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen-”

“Please, call me Oliver,” The blond said.

Before you stood Bruce Wayne and Oliver Queen. You were intending to speak to Mr. Wayne alone, but just as you approached him, Mr. Queen also got to him. You were about to apologize and walk away, however, Mr. Queen, or rather, Oliver, insisted you interviewed them together. You had to admit, it was rather nice having Oliver around as Mr. Wayne, even though he was known as a playboy, gave you a rather intimidating aura.

You began interviewing the two, asking them the same questions you had asked all the millionaires, but ended up talking with them and enjoying it. Mr. Wayne wasn’t as intimidating as he had seemed, and Oliver was rather humorous. It was clear to you the two were friends.

You were in the middle of laughing at a joke Oliver had told when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder. You turned your head, seeing Clark, standing right beside you with a smile.

“Well you most certainly are having a good time,” He commented before turning his attention to the men in front of you. “Mr. Wayne, Mr. Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reached out with his free hand to shake theirs.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well…” Mr. Wayne’s voice trailed off as he looked down at Clark’s badge from the daily planet, “...Mr. Kent.”

“Call me Oliver,” He said as he shook your coworker’s hand. “I take it you two were sent together?”

“Yes,” You said in sync.

The conversation continued, and the entire time Clark kept his arm around your shoulders. You nodded along, even humming a few times in response to make it appear as if you were listening as your mind wandered. ‘Why is my heart racing? Why is he still holding me? Should I say something? What if I seem rude? I don’t want him to let go though.’ Even though you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you knew there was a small part of you that always liked how petite you were compared to Clark.

Then, you felt his thumb begin to rub small circles onto your bare shoulder. Without thinking, you slowly leaned into his larger frame. Now, you couldn’t see it because you were still looking ahead at the two millionaires, but Clark glanced down at you, happy you had come closer.

You couldn’t avoid Clark forever though, despite your best efforts.

You walked down the sidewalk, holding four large reusable grocery bags each full to the brim. You lived alone, but you liked to shop in bulk so you wouldn’t have to go out often. You were struggling a fair amount though. Normally, you had a friend who’d come with you to help you out and then the two of you would hang out. Sadly, all your friends were busy for the next few days and you were beginning to run out of your favorite conditioner, not to mention you were low on food.

You didn’t drive to the grocery store either, adding to your struggle. It was only three blocks away, why waste gas? You wouldn’t be struggling much longer though.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” A male voice called out.

You stopped, eyes darting everywhere to find the owner of the voice. It took you a moment until you eventually spotted Clark in front of you, a good distance away.

“Oh, hi Clark!” You placed two of the bags down to give him a large arm wave.

It took him a moment to get to you, and when he did he looked down at your groceries puzzled. “That seems like a lot for one person to carry.”

“Yeah, I tend to bite off more than I can chew.”

“I’ve noticed,” He said with a chuckle. “Do you want some help?”

You shook your head. “No. I couldn’t possibly drag you away from your day off to help me.”

“It wouldn’t be a hassle at all,” He reassured you. “Plus, it’d eat at me all day knowing I left you struggling.”

Knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, you let out a sigh, agreeing to his help. He took three of the bags, leaving you with the one bag filled with two bags of chips, three loaves of bread, and two dozen eggs. You tried to hold two bags, make the work even between the two of you, but he insisted. He tried to carry the bag you held as well, but you were adamant you held at least one.

Walking down to your apartment complex, the two of you mainly talked about work. At least you did, and Clark more so listened. This was the first time your heart didn’t start racing as you stood next to him, probably because you wouldn’t shut up about the deadline for your new article. You refused to look up at him, eyes fixed only on what was in front of you. It didn’t take long for the two of you to get to your apartment. You thanked him and told him he could go on with his day, but he insisted he helped you carry the bags up to your apartment.

You were quiet from then on, listening to Clark talk about the building. He lead you all away to your front door, standing patiently for you to unlock your door. Then, it hit you. You noticed his shadow over you as you faced your front door. Your heart quickened a bit, still, you ignored it as you opened your front door.

You speedily guided him to the kitchen to place the groceries down, and just as fast you tried to rush him out. His brows furrowed, confusion written all over his face.

“(Y/N), why are you in such a rush to show me out?”

‘Because I can’t think straight now with you around!’ You thought. Instead, you said to him, “Because I’m tired and I want you to enjoy your day off!”

He didn’t seem to believe you. He stood in front of you, a small frown on his lips. “Do you like me?”

Your eyes widened, mouth left ajar at his question.

“Because sometimes I get the feeling that you don’t like me.”

‘Oh-’ “What- No. I think you’re a great guy Clark.”

“Then why are you always avoiding me?” You didn’t think he had noticed. “Whenever I get close to you, you scurry off, and when you can’t you look uncomfortable.”

Like a child who had just gotten caught, you covered your face, too embarrassed to look at him. You didn’t want to tell him the real reason you were avoiding him, but, you also didn’t want him thinking you disliked him. It was the exact opposite.

“I’m not avoiding you because I don’t like you, Clark,” You said through your hands. You spread apart your fingers so you could look him in the eyes. “I… I avoid you because you’re… you’re so big.”

Now Clark was taken aback, a brow raised. “What?”

With a long exhale, you lowered your hands. “I said, I avoid you because you’re so… so big, and it makes me feel really small, and I can’t think straight.”

“You avoid me because I’m too big, and it makes you feel small, and you can’t think straight?” He repeated.

You nodded.

He was silent for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side. “In a good or bad way?”

“What?”

“In a good or bad way?”

You could feel your face heat up, and it wasn’t the only spot on you beginning to grow warm. Softly, you answered him. “In a good way, I guess.”

Clark took a step closer to you. “So you like the fact that I’m larger than you?”

“Yes, I just-”

“No.” His normally bright blue eyes seemed to darken, his eyes narrowed on you. “I want you to say it.”

You closed your legs closer together, feeling a heat rise in between your thighs. “I like that you’re so much bigger and stronger compared to me.”

Swiftly, Clark scooped you up, hands just beneath your bottom to raise you to his face. With how fast your heart was racing now you were sure he could hear it pounding in your chest.

You looked into his eyes as you carefully took off his glasses and tossed them onto your couch. Then, you placed a hand on each side of his face and gave him a long soft kiss. He returned the kiss gently, though after a few minutes you could tell he wanted more, his kiss began to grow rough.

You had wrapped your legs around him to be more comfortable, giving him a better grip on you. He squeezed your ass and in response you let out a soft moan. He lowered you a bit, only enough for you to feel his growing erection against your fully clothed core. He held your hips close, moving you against him for a bit of friction. You whimpered, lowering your head into his chest and gripping his dark grey shirt.

“Clark, please,” You whined.

“Where’s your bedroom?” He asked, voice deeper than usual.

You pulled your head away from his chest, nodding over in the direction of your bedroom. “Second door to the right,”

Almost hurried, he carried you straight to your bedroom. He stopped right at the edge of your bed, letting go and letting you fall back onto your mattresses. He crawled on top of you, placing a knee between your legs. Gently, he peeled away your clothes, tossing them to the side and leaving you in your underwear. He began peppering kisses around your neck, slowly moving down to your collarbone. As he did, his hand crept its way behind your back and undid the clasp on your bra. He pulled away from his kisses to watch your breasts bounce free, eyes fixed on your bare chest.

Feeling embarrassed, you moved to cover your chest with your hands, but he pinned your hands above your head with one hand.

A low chuckle escaped him. “Aw, are you feeling shy?”

You were about to turn your head away when Clark dipped his head down, capturing your lips again. You could feel his free hand slowly trail up your side, humming as a shiver went down your spine. He cupped your breast firmly, beginning to knead it in his palm.

Small moans left your lips, arching your back, body begging for more. You already knew your panties were wet, and you needed him, but he was still fully clothed. All the while you could feel his denim-covered erection against your thigh.

“Clark,” You groaned against his lips, “It’s not fair.”

He pulled back, brows raised. You struggled to pull your hands free, to no avail.

“You’re still dressed,” You said with a pout.

He gave you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, how about you take care of that for me?”

He let go of your hands and you eagerly reached for the end of his shirt, pulling it off of him. You almost started drooling seeing him shirtless for the first time. Your hands began to wander around his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Your hands wandered down further, to the hem of his pants. Just as you were about to reach for his belt, his hand stopped you.

“You’re not ready yet sweetheart,” He warned you.

“Clark-”

He pressed his mouth against you, silencing you before you could complain. Even though you weren’t allowed to undo his pants, he slid them off with ease and you felt his long hard member pressed against your thigh. You momentarily pulled away to glance down, gasping loudly when you saw his length.

Worried, you looked back up at him. “It’s not going to fit.”

He dipped his head back down to your neck, peppering kisses across your jaw. “That’s why we need to get you ready.”

His hand moved down to your soaked panties, pushing them down so you were completely bare now. Your breathing hitched, feeling him stick in a finger and begin to move it in and out of you slowly. He picked up the pace with his finger, eventually sticking in another and he could already feel your pussy tightening.

You were growing close and he was only fucking you with his fingers. Granted, his hands were larger than yours, so two of his fingers felt much larger than two of your own.

To add on, he lowered himself so his head would be right at your dripping cunt and began sucking on your clit.

“Ah!” Your hands went straight to his hair and began to tug. You were a mess in his hands.

It didn’t take long for your body to shudder and your hips begin to spasm as you hit your high. Clark licked up your pouring juice, humming at your sweet taste. He looked up at you, two fingers remaining and now scissoring inside of you.

“You know, you really should ask for help if you can’t reach something,” He began. “It’s hard trying to hold back when you reach for things in those tight skirts of yours.”

“Well, now you don’t need to hold back,” You teased.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, grabbing his face with one hand and guiding him back to you. You could taste your juices in the kiss, humming in delight.

He pulled his fingers out, your core aching to be filled again. Luckily, you soon felt his already dripping tip at your entrance. Slowly, he pushed himself into you and you could feel your walls stretch around him. You nearly cried, your body in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your back arched, breasts pressing against Clark’s chest. Your hands gripped his arms as tight as you could, and you were sure you were digging your nails into him.

It was so much. You could feel your eyes water and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Clark kissed your forehead, muttered against it, “Just relax.”

He gave a small moment to adjust, noting how your breathing changed when you had gotten used to him. He pushed himself further in though, and you cursed under your breath, body growing tense again.

Again, he gave you a moment to adjust, despite how painfully tight your walls clamped around him. He pulled out a small amount before pushing back in, bucking his a few times to get you used to him. Eventually, your quiet whimpers turned into small moans.

“M-more,” You breathed out, breath shaky.

Like a switch had been flipped in him, Clark pulled out almost all the way and speared you, no longer as gentle as he had been before. He did this again and again, going a little harder each time at a constant rhythm. Then, with one thrust you shouted his name loudly and your cunt squeezed around his cock.

“Ah! Clark again! Right there, please!” You begged him.

Knowing he had found your g-spot, he pulled out all the way this time and pounded that same spot, earning another cry of pleasure from you. He did this repeatedly now with a faster rhythm, leaving you gasping and clenching with each thrust. With each of your breaths growing ragged, it was clear you were both close to your release.

You wrapped a leg around his hips to try and bring him closer, and he gripped your thigh harshly. He squeezed it so tightly, you were sure there’d be a faint bruise.

With a few more thrusts, you shuddered, juices flowing out of you again and around Clark’s cock this time. You swore you heard Clark curse, feeling you squeeze around him and juices cover him.

His rhythm was growing sloppy, and he pumped in and out of you until he let out a low groan of relief. You took a sharp breath, feeling his warm seed enter you. He continued to buck his hips, riding it out until he finally stopped, breath heavy.

He looked at you with now clear eyes and a smile on his face. “So… Do you need help putting your groceries away?” He asked cheekily.

You giggled. “Only if you don’t put anything important on the top shelf.”

“Why not? I’ll be around to help you now.”

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