#ch: young!bruce

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: f!reader | dom!bruce | vag fingering | sexual content | size difference | brief descriptions of intoxication.

“What did you say your name was?” The words of YOUNG!BRUCE WAYNE speak against you, muffled by his lower lip caught between your teeth and the pounding music of the club. You grin coyly, shaking your head as you tug back on his lip, releasing it to let it bob.

“I didn’t.” you reply, reinforcing the mystery of it all. His black hair had a sort of intentional messy look to it, longer in the front and hanging over his forehead in an edgy and fashionable way. The silken locks tickle your forehead as the two of you stand impossibly close together, refusing each other any breathing room as if you’re exchanging the most sacred of secrets.

You don’t know who this guy is, and frankly you couldn’t care less. All that mattered was that he invited you up to a platinum pass VIP floor of this nightclub, got a few drinks in you, and now you’re all over him. Instinctively, you raise your leg to tuck him between your thighs, and he takes the extra mile of hooking his fingers in the crook of your knee to lift it a little further. He’s tall, and there’s a good stretch when he gets you up to his hip.

Lips locked, you can’t ignore what an expert he is with his tongue. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but with specific swipes of his tongue you whimper. If he could hear you above all this noise, he might think you’re in the longest dry spell of your life. To your knowledge, it doesn’t appear like he’s judging you, in fact he’s spurred on by your enthusiasm, tangling tongues like inexperienced teenagers in the dark corner of the floor. Unconsciously, you begin grinding. A subtle rut chasing friction, the thin fabric of your dress separates your bare cunt from humping his crotch. You don’t register fully the kind of desperation you’re giving off. He doesn’t seem to mind at all, clutching onto your leg tighter to encourage you.

When things escalate to an inappropriate degree for his level of comfort regarding PDA, his hand cups your chin, directing you back to break the kiss. You emit a sound of disappointment, your eagerness cut short. To make up for it, he affectionately strokes your skin with his thumb. A kind smile curls his lips, swollen and pink from all of your sucks and bites, but there’s a delicious darkness in his eyes. “Let me show you something.”

You knew this guy was loaded, but you didn’t know exactly how wealthy. He’d brought you to a private room because apparently he owned this place. Your shock was brief, staring at him long enough that he interrupted you with another long and tonguey kiss. He couldn’t be more than a couple years your age. How can he own anything in his twenties? However, as he guided you to a cushioned seat, directing you to straddle his lap, you’d completely forgotten about money. The only thing on your mind now is how cups the back of your neck like his hand belongs there, firmly fixed as he keeps you where he wants you, diving his tongue far into the back of your throat. It’s demanding, and it shoots right through you. Hopelessly aroused, you can feel your slick coating the insides of your thighs. It only worsens when he begins to take off his rings. One by one, silver bands are removed from his long and thick fingers.

An omen. A filthy and delicious omen of what’s to come, pulsing your cunt until he gets his bare hand on it, sweetly caressing you through the tasteful slit in your dress. “Knew you were gonna get some?” he asks, a frustratingly handsome expression of pride and joy on his countenance.

“Shut up.” you respond with a roll of your eyes, patting his shoulder scoldingly. Your nonchalance doesn’t last long because he starts taking your pussy seriously. The tip of his middle finger swipes through, a chill running up your spine because of it. Nervous energy has nowhere to go, and you claw his upper arm, seeking out the provided friction with a gentle rock of your hips. He watches you with interest and parted lips, gauging your every minute reaction as he experiments his touch. As if you’re a puzzle, he’s curious about you, alternating between dipping shallowly into you and rubbing at your little clit. At a particularly sensitive motion, you throw your head back, sitting onto his hand fully. A mild chastising is in order, his free hand clutched onto your hip picks you back up, but he doesn’t withhold giving you more of what you need.

“Easy, pet, we’ve got all night.”

#indy: drabbles #ch: young!bruce #bruce wayne drabble #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne fanfiction #dc comics smut #dc comics x reader #bruce wayne #reader insert

[thecreelhouse]

tramps like us

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : born to run — bruce springsteen

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

3:43 ───|────── -0:45

♪ oh honey, tramps like us / baby, we were born to run ♫

✧.┊ Series masterlist for the sequel to part time soulmate, full time problem ✧read on AO3 ✧ listen to the series playlist here ┊. ✧ 

Paring: Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

Chapter links, summary, CW/tags, and A/N are under the cut:

prologue - escape route

ch. 1 - first thing to go

ch. 2 - the ocean grew hands to hold me

ch. 3 - slip the noose

ch. 4 - more

ch. 5 - home

ch. 6- killshot

ch. 7

ch. 8

ch. 9

ch. 10

✮⋆˙

CW/tags (will be updated accordingly): established relationship from enemies to lovers, found family, language, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, discussions of abuse, PTSD, eventual smut, a fuck ton of eventual sappy moments

✮⋆˙

A/N: hi! I hope this is worth the wait for those who expressed excitement over a sequel. Thanks for all of the support on the original series!! 🥹 I hope y’all enjoy it, and thanks again for the support and patience <3

Also, without giving much away, if there is anything I got wrong re: Gator’s vision loss, please don’t hesitate to correct me. as a disabled person who is not blind or visually impaired, I want to get this right, and did my best to research what I could. I want to treat this as realistically and respectfully as possible when it comes to someone’s disability journey as a young adult— the good, bad, and everything in between— but again, please don’t hesitate to lmk if anything needs correcting!

#gator tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman x you #my fics #tramps like us #part time soulmate full time problem

[mishy-mashy]

Anyway I wrote about this in my fanfic notes but I think this is credible

En. He's a One For All user, young, and dies from being cut in half by All For One. He cries, but manages to pass on One For All to Nana with a smile, and hides Nana with his Quirk so she can escape.

So En. Sixth. This cutie patootie guy right here

He's been viewed as cool and collected and I'm gonna call a bit of bullshit on that.

First: he is young. He doesn't have the fullest emotional maturity (brain caps out in the mid-20s), and even if he did, he can still freak out. But that's not what I wanna talk about with him

It's more the time period in which he was born and grew up.

Kudo and Bruce, at the least, die 18 years before En receives One For All. En was born during All For One's rule, and grew up in a society struggling to cope with the new Abilities on top of Japan's crumble.

En was born at an anxious time, and grew up in the flames of it as society tried collecting itself. Since he was born while people were just barely adjusting to Abilities, and were flighty and shellshocked from the events, En was the same: used to Abilities, but quick to jump and flee. He was raised in a world like that, and thus was like the others of his time.

Look at En at his death. His Smokescreen is active. He died with his back turned. He was running away and using his Smokescreen as cover.

He later asks, fearful and stressed, why Midoriya/Ninth doesn't just run away. And Tomura calls him out on this. We'll go back to this later.

En is a product of the time he grew up—a time of trying to pick themselves up in the midst of civil war, shifting humanity, where no one trusted anyone and everyone ran to save themselves.

His Quirk is literally Smokescreen. There's no application to it beyond making smoke from the user's body to hide in. It obscures others' visions.

His Quirk hides him from others. That's its main function. He isn't as brave as the others. He's a coward when pushed into a corner. Nana describes his last smile in ch. 92 as this:

But All Might, who does this smile, describes it in ch. 1 as—

—tricking the fear inside of him. En is a combination of both; he smiled to reassure Nana, but was no doubt terrified, as he died running and got cut in half.

I imagine the reason En was the first One For All user shown passing off the Quirk with his hair was because he was too afraid to reach down and feel himself cut in half. He could've gotten the blood from there, but the cognitive dissonance alone of feeling air where your lower-half should be is terrifying as is.

By hiding her in his Smokescreen and giving his hair, En let Nana run away too, to safeguard herself and the Quirk. En ran, he made Nana run, and later on, he wants Midoriya/Ninth to run, even knowing there's no next user or chance to beat All For One/Tomura.

En knows All For One is powerful. He's scary. He killed Banjo-senpai, and Shinomori-san hid from him until he died of "old age". Everything is mustered in Midoriya/Ninth, but even then, En wants to run away because they realize they can be stolen and really die.

Now, going back a bit to [His Quirk is literally Smokescreen], they would've started calling Meta Abilities Quirks around the time En is growing up. All Might is alive somewhere when Nana receives One For All, and Meta Ability is the first term for Quirks.

Since Quirks are reflective of personality, and En was born in the coming down of the peak of fear that's trying to create some semblance of normalcy, it makes sense that, with his Smokescreen, he encourages Midoriya/Ninth to run. Because he did the same thing.

That's how he grew up, that's what he knows, it's the first thing he thought of when he realized they really were in danger. They were facing death in the eye.

Tomura/AFO even calls him out for this. Look at En's face when he's called out; he's scared of him. En is scared of just catching his attention.

The OFA vestiges know they can see into each others' realms. They wouldn't be surprised by this. They look into AFO's, they know AFO can do the same vice-versa.

Tomura is basically saying he's about to catch all the vestiges (rats) by their tails to make sure no one gets away this time.

Even if En was a vigilante or Pro Hero when he was alive (he's Banjo's kouhai, and Banjo was one of those), he has a faint heart when he feels cornered and running is an option, no matter how bad.

En acts calm and rational, and entered into the Vigilante/Pro Hero scene, but he is terrified when it comes down to it.

Like Kudo and Bruce with the Resistance, Shinomori with society's state then, and Banjo stepping up when Japan was "a lawless land", En is a product of the era he grew up; trying to find stability in a lawless land, where it was everyone for themselves.

#i try making a difference between using the terms Ability and Quirk #older generations like Kudo Bruce and Yoichi would refer to them as Abilities #but also Quirks are both the modern term and a personality thing #i hc En as 19 years old #chapter 411 made me think about his wanting to run away. i wondered before why his quirk is Smokescreen when all that does is hide people #en was the first vestige i really liked #i liked banjo when he first showed #right now im focused on the first Three tho #anyway i like all the vestiges #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #spoilers #en #ofa #afo #one for all #all for one #smokescreen #nana shimura #all might #yagi toshinori #izuku midoriya #anyway en is quick to run and will act on his fear #whats nice about ens quirk is that it doesnt hide just him. then the quirk would be something else like avoiding detection; #he can hide others with him #in the end En still decided to be a vigilante/Pro Hero so he does have a conscience/willingness to help and save others #he only gave up the ghost once Nana got his hair in her hand. once he knew OFA could keep living to win this fight one day #im not bashing en; i really like him and his character. him being afraid of death is something i like too; fear of death is realistic! nice #good job en sweetie youre doing great

[minnesota-fats]

Snow Bat

Ch 1

Danny, a homeless kid living on the street. Bruce, a rich kid obsessed with trying to find his parents' murderers. They both meet one rainy night at age eighteen, and from that night forward their fates are intertwined forever more.

All is as it should be.

Danny remembers the night like it had just happened—but I guess you will witness it first hand. He had situated himself on a street corner, not busy enough to have a constant set of eyes on him—but then again no one really batted an eye at a homeless kid here in Gotham. Though, Danny did not consider himself a kid anymore. Not after all he had been through, though that doesn’t matter right now. Danny was sitting on the concrete walkway, not really paying attention, just sitting in thought on what he should do next. He had gotten this far, but he still needed to figure out what to do next. He had come into town with a bag of clothes and a wallet full of money. Thought that didn't last long when in a shitty part of town, known for muggers and killers.

Danny didn't really put up much of a fight either, he was too tired to really do anything and most importantly he didn't want to use the abilities that he has. Sure, it would have made getting away easier but when did Danny ever do things the easy way? So, in the end he was down one bag of clothes and any identification and money. Though while on the run, you don't really want people to know who you are. The only purpose his ID had was just to serve as a reminder of who he was, now with it gone, Danny can really start anew. He just had to figure out what he was going to do.

Danny didn't really register the rain until he felt it stop pelting his head aggressively. He looked up and was confused to see an expensive looking umbrella positioned over his head. Danny followed the hand holding the umbrella to see a young man who was surrounded by a halo of the street lamp shining directly behind him.danny tilted his head to the side to examine the man, he had stormy gray blue eyes and slicked back black hair that started to lose shape as the rain began to wet it and his suit jacket. Danny could feel his heart skip a beat, something very noticeable when your heartbeat is as slow as his. The man looked down at him and tilted his head to mimic Danny's own head tilt.

The young man’s name is Bruce Wayne, heir to the Wayne family fortune. He had been walking around to clear his head after he had a fierce argument with his father figure Alfred. Bruce had stormed out of the vehicle and began walking away in a random direction. Bruce knew that Alfred wouldn't be too far behind, knowing how protective he was of Bruce. During his walk however Bruce had spotted what looked like a kid no older than eighteen, sure he was the same age, but Bruce hadn’t considered himself a kid for a long time despite what others around him might say. He tightened his grip on the umbrella and without much thought he walked closer to the young man. As Bruce got closer he could see the man had a busted lip and swollen downcast eyes. There were smudges of blood on his dirty hoodie and a steady stream of pink bloody water dripping from his hair. It is clear to Bruce that this young man had just been on the losing side of a fight or at least a beating.

It reminded Bruce of how he used to get into fights in primary school after- Bruce didn't want to think about that right now. Bruce walked toward the man and used his umbrella to shield the man from the rain. When the young man looked up, Bruce couldn't help but admire how bright this man's eyes were—at least the one that wasn’t swollen shut. The young man in front of Bruce had unbelievably blue eyes that almost looked purple as the light shifted when the young man tilted his head to the side in confusion, Bruce mimicked the movement.

Bruce knelt down to be at eye level with the other man, “what happened?” He asked, voice smooth and unassuming.

“Got my shit stolen,” Danny says with a shrug, his voice sounding hoarse from the disused. Danny coughed and cleared his throat, “what does it look like?”

Bruce looked him over, “you seem to have suffered several contusions that range from a not so serious looking busted lip to a concerning head wound that may or may not need stitches.”

Danny tilted his head the opposite direction, “oh,” was all he could think of saying, dumbfounded by the sudden medical analysis.

“If you would like I can take you to the hospital,” Bruce offered, “my car is just around the corner.”

Danny’s eyes widened, “no! No hospital,” he exclaimed. His back straightened up as he tried to lean forward, but the sudden movement made him feel dizzy. “I, umm…. Can't afford it….” He tries, sounding unsure.

Bruce looked harder at the young man in front of him, “money isn't an issue,” Bruce starts. But the tension in the man's form made him reconsider his approach, “But if you want I can treat you at my home,” He offered.

Danny calmed down at what the man said, “No, it's ok. I'll be fine,” he starts as he leans back down against the wall, not taking his eyes away from the man in front of him. “I don't want to impose.”

“Then do you have somewhere I can take you? I’m not leaving you here alone.” Bruce says, stubbornly.

“Really buddy, I’m good, I don’t need-” he tries but Bruce cuts him off.

“I promise you, I won't hurt you,” Bruce tried again, “If you want you can even stay the night, have a warm meal and shower. I just want to help you.”

Danny looked at this man again, really looked at him. Danny could feel that this guy really meant it, he wanted to help danny—no strings attached. Danny let out a groan before leaning forward and shaking his head in annoyance. Danny looked back up into the man's eyes, “fine,” Danny grumbles out, “only for a hot shower. But if you're a serial killer I'm gonna be real pissed off.”

The man smiled and reached out his hand for Danny to take, “don’t worry, my name is Bruce. What’s yours?”

Danny accepted Bruce's hand and groaned as he helped hoist him up, “name’s Danny,” he responds, “I think I might have a broken rib or two,” he admits, swaying a bit as he clutched his side.

“To be expected when mugged in Gotham,” Bruce said darkly. The comment made Danny snort a bit in laughter. Bruce smiled a bit as he pulled Danny closer to him so they could both share the umbrella, Bruce could see the man tensed up a bit before resting into Bruce’s side. It was like that Bruce led the injured man to the edge of the sidewalk just as a sleek black car drove up and parked in front of them. Danny seemed to tense up again at the sight of the car, looking like he was ready to bolt. Bruce made sure to keep his posture passive, hopefully to convey that they were not in any danger.

The front window rolled down to reveal the familiar face of Alfred, “I see you have made a friend, Master Bruce.” He commented as he moved to get out of the car.

“No need to get out Alfred, I got the door.” Bruce says softly and he pulls Danny along and opens the back door. He holds the umbrella up above the door to allow Danny to get in first. As Bruce guides him down to sit Danny groans again as settled in. Bruce smiled at Danny reassuringly before he closed the car door and ran to the other side to get in. Once in the car Bruce looked forward at Alfred who looked through the rear view mirror at his ward, “to home please, Alfred, I promise my friend here a warm meal and shower,” Bruce explained before looking back at Danny, “after I check his wounds,” he says directing that part to danny who just groaned in annoyance before looking out the window.

Alfred smiled softly at the display of fragile trust, proud of his ward’s stubbornness when it comes to others safety.

Hopefully, this will be good for both young men, the old butler thought as he took note of the state the new man was in.

If only he knew how significant this meeting actually was.

Only time will tell.

—

Remaining chapters on ao3:

Link

#danny fenton #bruce wayne #teen bruce wayne #young bruce wayne #pre batman #au #dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp fic #spirit halloween #I hate that ship name #but whatever #danny fenton/bruce wayne #danny fento x bruce wayne #yep #uwu #fluff #maybe art in the future

[luvly-writer]

XOXO 💋

Ch. 2: She is as beautiful as she is poisonous

-•-

Tim Drake x reader

Fic + Social Media Au

Warnings: Blackmail, she’s a bitch a first, get to know her

Series: Ongoing

Author’s note: Enjoy! Feel free to leave feedback! It is always appreciated <3

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Masterlist:

How difficult Christmas time must be for all of those on the Upper East Side?

"Honestly, Tini, what do you get a woman who practically owns everything? I swear I have no idea what to get my mother for Christmas!" Y/n spoke on the phone as she carried quite a few bags in her arms. Dior, Channel, Yves Saint Laurent, if it's expensive and you can name it, it's there. "And to be even more honestly, I regret going Christmas shopping the same day Bartie is doing groceries. Seriously, I should learn to coordinate with my butler better, balancing all of this is getting preeetty difficult" she complained as she rearranged her bags again. "I didn't take the limo because I wanted some fresh air, you know how I get when it gets too stuffy" she laughed as she began to search for her purse. Because of so, she wasn't able to see the tired young man walking directly towards her. "It's silly, I know but- HEY!" and down she went with all her bags.

Tim had had a rough day. Between waking up to Dick and Jason singing Baby its cold Outside highly off-key just to piss off Bruce for making them patrol on one of the coldest nights of the year without their thermal suits; his secretary forgetting to send him a copy of the agenda for today's meeting causing him to practically have to improvise most of his points; Damian appearing on his office and refusing to leave his chair trying to establish dominance for "his future empire" to which if Tim had a say, he would absolutely not get if he kept on acting like this; and finally, with Steph who insisted they went Christmas shopping today only to ditch him and leave him stranded in the middle of the street with all of their presents with the excuse of having to repaint her closet which only translates to "I'm getting your present so bye bye". He was completely exhausted and the stitches on his shoulder were getting more painful by the hour with the cold. He had decided to get some coffee at a cafe down by Wellington Street and had been too caught on his thoughts to see where he was going.

//THUD//

"Hey!"

Tim's and Y/n's bags, both shopping and personal, simultaneously fell, getting mixed up in the way. Both reached down to catch their stuff as fast as they could.

"Sorry, I was-"

" not paying attention, yes I figured. S, I'll call you later, I have a little situation here. "

Tim was taken aback by the attitude he received from this random stranger...this totally absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous stranger who just so happens to not be a stranger at all. If all of his years being lectured about the hierarchy of the Upper East Side had served correctly, he was standing in front of one of the heiress of the city, Y/n Vanderbilt and she was the most dazzling woman he had ever seen...and just as bothered as she was gorgeous.

"Yeah" he said breathlessly, "that" Could he sound any dumber.

"Yes, That. Ugh! The ONE time I get out without Bartie and this happens. How many of these are yours?" said Y/n without looking up. She hadn't recognized him yet and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. Finally, their eyes met and she raised her delicate eyebrow at him and he swore his heart stopped for a second. "Have we met before?" she asked after taking a good look at him. He sure was handsome as hell. Pale skin, dark hair which was a little bit messy but it suited him, sharp suit and even sharper blue eyes who she swore she had seen before.

"Timothy, Timothy Drake Wayne" he replyed cooly.

"Hmm, a Wayne adoptee and a Drake socialite, Gotham Academy?"

"Yes, but I-"

"-Dropped out, yes. Yes, you did, I remember reading the news. Dropped out to become the CEO of Wayne Enterprises."

"Funny" he laughs out getting up after making sure that all of his stuff was there and then looking up at her. "Can't recognize me but seems to know all my business, miss Vanderbilt." he said snarkly.

"Important enough to know, yet simultaneously not enough to get to actually know" she said with a wolfish smile. Touche.

Y/n checked all her bags and smiled to herself. "Well then, mister Drake Wayne, lovely to meet you. Watch your step next time." She said as she looked at him dead in the eye. "Have a nice day, Timothy."

And she walked away, leaving him dumbfounded watching her go.

"Tim Tim Tim! You will not believe the boots i just got! They are sooooo comfortable and warm for night patrol. My toes were freezing last night....Tim? Hey, what's wrong? You have a dazed look in your eyes?

"I think I just met the love of my life...and shes kind of a bitch." said Tim, making Stephanie laugh and link her arms with his.

"Let's go hide these and you can tell me all about the supposed love of your life."

-•-

Y/n paced around her room trying to see where she would hide her presents. Shopping had helped distract her mind from the matter that had been plaguing her mind these last few days. Most of the bags had been cleared by now and she only had three left. As she cleared her final bag, she noticed something strange. Two files. She takes them out curious to see what these are. "Can't be part of my gifts...hmm...let's see"

She opens the first one and sees it is directed to Red Robin?

"What...?" she whispered to herself. "Ivy's exploits on the newest power plant close to Gotham Central Park make a solid case worth observation. Following up on her latest attacks with the reports of Red Hood and Black Bat, we begin suspecting where her next attack will play out....holy shit" Y/n whispered in amazement. She then looked at the rest of the file. Some red yarn here and there. A mixture of scribbles and computer manuscripts. Folded papers and a lot of red ink.

Then she looked at the next folder, a meeting agenda filled with notes directed to one Tim Drake Wayne..."wait a minute.."

These are directed to the same IP address..with the same handwriting, including the signatures...

"Tim Drake Wayne is Red Robin"Y/n smirked, "I believe I found a solution to my little problem"

Y/N went to get her cellphone quick and marked her driver's number. "Donnie, get the car ready, we have a little visit to make"

------

"Where is it?" Tim searched frantically throughout his apartment. In his work bag, there were two very important files. The first being the final agenda of the meeting he had today with all of the notes he took which he needed right now in order to send it back to his secretary. If she wasn't so busy making googly eyes at him, he wouldn't have to waste time on the job and focus on the case. Speaking off, Tim decided to search for that file and found that it was also missing. "Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw, if Bruce doesn't kill me, Batman will for loosing those two things. Where are those fucking THINGS?" If his apartment was a mess before, it was even worse now.

Thankfully, fate is such a humorous thing.

//kmock, knock, knock//

Close to a breakdown out of frustration, Tim walks towards the door only to be pleasantly surprised by a face that had not left his mind.

"Miss Vanderbilt, what a lovely surprise" said Tim as he opened the door, letting the young girl walk in.

"Yes, just as lovely as this apartment. Are you always this well kept?" She responded with sass. Making Tim chuckle, "No, but i made sure to decorate it like this just in case there was a posibility of a pretty Vanderbilt showing up."

"Funny, that won't last long." She said with a tight smile. "I'm here for business."

"What ever business could you have with a Wayne? Our parents are business partners, so there is not related to networking. You have much more money than all of my family combined, so it isn't that. Status won't be either, you are practically modern day royalty. So, what could it be? What..could..it..be?" he said aproaching her. He may be lacking 48 hours worth of sleep, but the detective in him was up and on high alert. You were picking the skin around your nails and your nose had this adorable twitch that could only mean nervousnes and the look in your eye was cunning with a tinge of desesperation. What could Y/n Vanderbilt want from him?

"I need you to be my fake boyfriend."

Tim had always been proud of being observant and with that, came the ability to not be surprised yet, never in his 22 years of life did he think that he'd have Y/n Vanderbilt, THE Y/n Vanderbilt, asking him to fake date her in HIS apartment.

"What's in it for me?" he asked skeptical of the situation.

"My silence, Robin Boy" she said as she got the two files he had been frantically searching for this entire time and showed them to him. "And don't try to deny it, the handwriting is the same, I had the pleasure of taking DNA samples and they match, and have seen enough videos to be well aware that you have the same body type. Oh and worry not, only i’m aware of this information. Unlike Miss Vale, I do have various PI's on speed dial, and the weight of the Vanderbilt name, so any information out of me will be credible." She said with a pretty smile.

"Pretty, cunning, and poisounus. Who would have throught." He said, not confirming nor denying anything.

"And I am sure Daddy Brucie dearest, would just love finding out one of his little birdlings let the family secret out, wouldn’t he?" she said looking at him dead in the eye.

Tim felt his heart stop. She knew about all of them.

"You have until monday, lover boy. My phone number is written in there. Call me when you have made up your mind and if you accept, make sure you clear up your schedule cause that meeting will take a long time. Kisses" She ended as she handed the files to Tim and saw herself out.

"This is officially THE worst and simultaneously best day ever" He said as he threw himself on the couch.

#batfamily #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #batman #batfam #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #damian wayne #duke thomas #batfam au #barbara gordon #bruce wayne #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #red robin #batfam x reader #batfamily x you #batfam x you #batfam socialmedia au #batfamily x reader #batfam imagine #batfamily social media #batfam dc #dc social media au #dc reader insert #dc batman

[summercourtship]

sway. (bruce's POV)

First half of the Sponsorship Gala, including Bruce and the Reader's dance. From ch. 3 of Stay to Burn (Only to Drown Instead)- this will not make sense if you haven't read that!! 2430 words |warnings: none

read on ao3 | stay to burn masterpost

Bruce was uncomfortable, to say the least. 

Even though he had willingly decided to become a public figure again, that didn’t mean he had to like it. And he certainly felt that his energy would be better used to patrol the city than stand in a building filled with the upper echelon of society and cheap wine, shaking hands and faking smiles. 

But he wasn’t at the event for social reasons, even though socializing would be necessary. 

His parents had often dragged him along to events like this, galas and fundraisers overflowing with opulence despite often being to raise money for those less fortunate. This, however, was just for the local university and he was only attending because of her. 

Bruce had replayed the contact lens footage from the second time he had gone to her apartment multiple times, his suspicions about her situation building with each detail he noticed. He doubted she suspected anything- she was probably barely even aware of the Scarecrow, as the media had dubbed him due to the mask he seemed fond of wearing. No, she was too concerned with her own life to realize that vultures were circling overhead, even as they swooped lower and lower. 

He had arrived late, not wanting to sit through the thirty-minute long presentation. He didn’t need convincing to be charitable, he was going to generously donate anyway. He watched as the crowd filed out of the auditorium, staying close to the edge of the room. But once one person noticed him, they all did. 

All around him, people were smiling, almost tripping over themselves to speak with him. He was polite with all of them, though he kept the conversations short. He hadn’t seen the girl yet, and he was starting to worry that she hadn’t actually attended when he spotted Dr. Crane, only a few feet away from him.

The man was standing with perfect posture, his demeanor closed off and cold as he spoke with a young woman. Then his icy eyes slid over her shoulder and locked onto Bruce. 

Bruce did not unnerve easily. But something in Crane’s expression raised alarm bells in his head. Suddenly uncomfortable, Bruce almost looked right past the couple until he did a double take on the woman. She looked much different here than the last time he had seen her- at first glance, she could almost pass for an actual socialite. But her eyes were much too lively, her energy much too excited. She didn’t have the airs of someone who lacked a soul. 

No, don’t approach, keep your distance- but before he could stop himself, he was approaching the couple, not caring that he was leaving a conversation unfinished.  

“Mr. Wayne.” Dr. Crane spoke first, holding his hand out. Bruce tentatively took it, overly conscious of how tense his body was, lingering unease keeping him rigid as he shook the man’s hand. “Nice to see you out tonight.”

He disliked how people talked to him like they knew him. Overly familiar just because his face was. But he remembered what his father would do at events like these and smiled, though he could feel how fake it was. 

“I needed some fresh air.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Bruce noticed the girl looking from him to Crane, clearly intrigued. But she didn’t speak up. 

“My teaching assistant.” Dr. Crane gestured to the young woman beside him, who was becoming increasingly familiar to Bruce. He was already aware of her position as Crane’s TA, having learned it during his impromptu visit to her apartment. (Not that she knew that.)

It was that visit that had brought Dr. Crane to his attention in the first place, the syllabus on her couch and the papers she’d been grading about fear seeming too much of a coincidence to ignore. 

But she smiled, bringing him out of his thoughts as she reached out her own hand, saying her name like he didn’t already know that, either. But even if she knew he was the Batman, she would have no reason to suspect he knew her name- that was something he found out on his own time.  

“It’s very nice to meet you.” Bruce shakes her hand, clasping it in his own, smiling to match her own. It felt genuine this time, not the tight-lipped smiles he’d been dishing out to everyone else that evening. Did she see through him, was she able to look behind the facade he was wearing right now? 

Beside her, Dr. Crane was watching with an unreadable expression, his mouth tight and eyes slightly narrowed. Then he cleared his throat, as if uncomfortable with the prolonged contact of their hands. The girl dropped his hand, quickly looking over at the other man. A beat passed of the two staring at each other, a nervous smile on the girl’s face. 

What, exactly, was the nature of their relationship?

“Have a nice evening, Mr. Wayne.” Crane’s voice was short as he put his hand on the girl’s shoulder, leading her away. She followed willingly, as if she was unperturbed by the man’s behavior. 

“It was nice meeting you!” She called over her shoulder, her smile bright. He watched as she left, his eyes following the sway of her hips as she was led away. Then he frowned as he saw how tightly Crane’s hand was clenched on her shoulder, not unlike a claw digging into her skin.

Bruce continued tailing after the two, though at such a distance as to not arouse their suspicion. He doubted Crane would try anything tonight- Bruce didn’t even know for certain that Crane was the Scarecrow. 

But the most likely explanation tended to be the correct one, and there were too many coincidences concerning Crane for Bruce to not be suspicious. Who else in Gotham was an expert on fear and also skilled in chemistry? Crane was the only one who fit that description, and it was worth examining. 

He just hoped the girl wouldn’t make this more complicated than it needed to be. 

Bruce followed them into the ballroom, though the distance was much larger than he had planned due to people coming up to him and talking. Once again, he gave short answers, doing his best to not come across as rude but probably failing. By the time he escaped a particularly frustrating exchange about stocks, he had lost sight of them. 

However, it didn’t take long to find them again as they had not strayed far. 

Crane and the girl were dancing, chatting idly as they swayed back and forth. As he walked closer, he couldn’t help thinking that if he had planned better, he would have figured out a way to get to her phone and find a way to use it as a makeshift listening device. It would have been a better use of his time, standing at a distance and listening instead of waiting for opportunities to speak to them. 

He approached the couple, not oblivious to how they seemed to be in their own little bubble as they danced, speaking in low tones that Bruce couldn’t hear. 

But he could pop the bubble. 

“May I cut in?” 

The girl looked over her shoulder, her brief look of irritation at being interrupted replaced with a small smile when she saw who was interrupting her dance. 

“Of course.” Almost immediately, she let go of Crane’s hands, turning to him to speak quietly, “We can talk about it later.”

Crane’s hands lingered on her waist, flexing briefly as he clearly gripped her harder for a moment before he released her. He watched as Bruce took one of her hands in his own, his other going to her waist. Over her shoulder, Crane was staring at Bruce, the same unreadable expression from before on his face. 

Bruce simply nodded at him and led the girl away as the string quartet started a new song, something gentler and melancholic. 

Bruce had taken a few dancing lessons when he was a child, but anything he had learned was swiftly forgotten once he stopped going. He was lucky, then, that it seemed like she also didn’t know what she was doing and was perfectly content to just sway in place. 

“Well, Mr. Wayne, it’s nice seeing you again.”

“Please, call me Bruce.”

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the sides. He never saw her smile like that before, certainly not when he was out on patrol. What reason would she have to smile when a vigilante showed up on her balcony? 

“Alright. Bruce. How are you enjoying your night so far?”

Her voice was unfamiliar, like she was putting on an air to seem more sophisticated than she thought she was. He knew what she actually sounded like, and wanted to draw her out. He wasn’t here to talk to a character. 

“Well, one of the last times I was at a public event like this a car almost hit me, so I think comparatively it’s going good.”

Panic flared behind her eyes, and for a moment he was afraid that his attempt at humor had backfired. Sounds about right. He gave her a small smile, hoping to convey that he was being light-hearted. She smiled back, but it quickly fell off her face as she looked down, clearly lost in thought for a moment, chewing at the corner of her mouth. 

He was about to say something else, change the subject because she seemed like her mind was stuck somewhere, when she finally spoke again. 

“I was there, too. At the funeral.”

He didn’t know that. He should have known that. He knew she was at the election party, her ticket stub on the corkboard giving that away. But how was he supposed to know that she was at city hall that day? He wouldn’t even be able to revisit the footage from that event because he didn’t have it- Selina had still been in possession of the contact lens at the time. 

He realized that his face must have shown his surprise before he controlled it. But to his surprise, she seemed relieved that he didn’t say anything, that he didn’t try to look sympathetic, and continued talking. 

“Mhm, I was writing a stupid paper and when all that started happening it was… Well, it felt important to document it.” She chuckled. “As if a paper like that would be important to the historical record.”

“You never know.” He disliked hearing her talk down about herself like that. She ignored him. 

“Anyway, I was waiting on the upper balcony with the crowd of normal people-” She smiled, quick, letting him know she was joking, “and had just moved to give someone else some space when the car came crashing through, so…” She sucked her teeth, making a tsk-ing sound as she trailed off. “Not as bad as, you know… almost being hit.” 

She was on the balcony? He wondered if she even knew she might have been rubbing elbows with Edward Nashton. It wasn’t public knowledge that he had attended the funeral, but maybe she had seen him and recognized him later when he was arrested. The idea of her being so close to him without knowing it made something twist in his stomach, something unpleasant. 

Her expression shifted at his silence and she cleared her throat before hastily changing the subject. He moved his hand from her hip to her lower back, unknowingly pulling her closer to him. The front of her body was almost pressing against his, the small space between them seemingly impenetrable by either of them. 

“So why are you here tonight?” She asked, her voice soft as she looked up at him. He didn’t break eye contact with her as he responded. “Enjoying the scenery.” It slipped out before he could stop himself, but by the look of gentle surprise on her face, she didn’t mind the unsubtle compliment. 

“And here I thought you were a shut-in with no social skills.”

He knew it was a joke, but the reminder of how he had failed the city before was sour. He didn’t blame her for bringing it up- he knew what people said about him, even if he didn’t care about any of it. But his refusal to acknowledge the city his parents tried to help led to multiple deaths, his negligence of their legacy almost ruined the city. 

Alfred told him he shouldn’t blame himself. But he did. 

“A lot has changed over the past year.” His voice was soft, and she seemed to take a moment to process what he said.

The song ended and the couples that were dancing parted to clap for the quartet. The violinist stood, announcing that the musicians were going on a break. She didn’t let go of him, and he didn’t let her go either. They stood, still joined, her eyebrows pinched together in confusion. 

“What do you m-” Her question was interrupted by an older man who, upon seeing Bruce, had decided that it was his god-given duty to speak with him at that very moment. 

“May I have a moment of your time, Mr. Wayne?” The man murmured into his ear, as if to keep the girl from overhearing. It took every ounce of self control for Bruce to not flinch away from the man’s hot breath, his words barely audible over the noise of the gala. “I would like to discuss your contribution to the university’s scholarship fund-”

The girl dropped his hand, pulling herself away from him. He allowed her to go, even if he desperately wanted to find a way to use her as an excuse to get out of another conversation about money. 

“Thank you for the dance, Mr. Wayne. I’ll leave you to it.” She spoke quietly, as if she expected him to not listen to her. He watched as she left, not paying attention to the man next to him. Though he wouldn’t be as obvious about it as he may have been a few years ago, he knew he needed to keep her in his sights. 

She was probably going to find Crane again, and he was stuck in another pointless conversation. But he’d find her again, think of another excuse to talk to her alone. 

After all, he hadn’t even asked her what he needed to, something that would affect everything if his hunch about Crane being the Scarecrow proved true:

What, exactly, is her relationship with Dr. Crane? 

bruce + reader's playlist | poll for next POV

#stay to burn verse #stbotdi #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #my writing #my fic #sometimes i write things and im just like “okay!” about it. like not excited but not worried #just okay.

[vee-crytraps]

Kiss Me More | Ch 5 | {Krimson}

Chapter Summary: 🔞 You and Tim have an impromptu sleepover.

{Trigger warning/Themes Masterlist}

Shame burned in Tim’s chest as his hand crept low, to the waistband of his sweatpants. 

His own lips parted, a barely audible shudder passing through him as he wrapped his fingers around his cock. He was way beyond half mast, the thing twitching at the faintest graze of his own touch like some kind of fucking beast. He sure felt like one, as he began to stroke himself underneath the blanket. The one he was sharing with you.

You were fast asleep. Your brow was furrowed, and your lips were parted- glistening with the moisturizer you’d rubbed onto them after carefully removing your gala makeup. His sheets, slung low around your waist, did nothing to hide the rise and fall of your chest under the thin cotton of your nightgown. The little bow above the top button had come undone due to your earlier tossing, giving him the barest hint of your cleavage from here.

Somehow, that wasn’t the worst thing. At least, not as bad as the way your hand had found purchase right above his heart, the heat of your palm seeping through the fabric of his t-shirt. Every now and again, you hand would move or your fingers would twitch- drawing him further and further away from his approaching sleep. This late in the night, there was only one surefire way to end his body’s reaction to your very existence.

“…Fuck.” 

He tried to think of anything else. Anyone else. Stephanie. Bernard. Kon-El, for fucks sake- but the near inaudible hum you let out in your sleep sent a jolt through him, a shock that course-corrected his desire straight back towards you.

It was ironic, really- only hours ago he’d been moments away from passing out into his tomato bisque, and now that he was in bed, sleep refused to come. And to be honest, it was all your fault.

He had grown so used to your usual gala wardrobe- the ankle length dresses, doll like lace and silky frills. Every year, Bruce’s refusal to let you express your developing personality (and body) had become more obvious. And therefore, more hilarious. Tim hadn’t left the house with the rest of you that night, having to get changed in the executive bathroom attached to his office at WayneTech in order to arrive with everyone else. He’d been looking forward to seeing you there, most likely trying to glare a hole into Bruce’s head in between the flashes of red carpet cameras, dressed like an American Girl Doll.

What he hadn’t been expecting was a dress that had fit you like a skin. The hem fluttering with every step around your designer shoes- with an actual fucking heel in lieu of the usual flats and frills that made you look like Gotham’s own Shirley Temple.

You were far from the young girl who had bugged him to help you decorate your science fair volcanos, and nothing had done more to announce that, than the mere sight of you in that gorgeous fucking dress. You looked so…grown. Elegant. He found himself thinking that he’d have killed to see the red of your lipstick staining a ring around his flushed cock, or the fluttering of your fake lashes as he would pound you over the marble counter in the powder room- your delightfully mature dress pushed up around your waist.

Lost in his fantasy, the movement of his hand sped up, making him groan as he imagined how your breath would hitch. Just for him.

“Tim?” You called, disoriented as you began to stir. You hadn’t even bothered to open your eyes yet, your brow still furrowed as you sleepily continued. “Are you beating off right now?”

Tim freezes, his hero instincts going right out the fucking window as fear grips his heart. He’s hard as steel and halfway there, and his brain is absolutely refusing to work as his cock twitches for the lost friction. 

“..Yes.” He admits, because what was he going to do? Lie, with an 8 inch boner literally pitching a tent beneath the thin sheet you shared? You might be sleepy, but you weren’t stupid.

Still, he tries to tamp the orgasm roiling in his belly with thoughts of the violence he was planning to inflict on Jason for causing this little bunking situation in the first place.

Why his older brother decided to pass out face first into your bed was anyone’s guess, but the members of the house just credited his confusion to the drinking contest he’d gotten into with the mayor’s eldest son. All of the linens in the guest rooms had been taken away for their usual mass-laundering, and Bruce would rather burn the manor down than let you sleep on the couch, so now you were here. In bed with Tim.

“Sorry, I just…I can’t sleep, and I didn’t want to wake you by getting out of bed so-“ Tim started, the walls of reality creeping in.

Despite his apology, he was expecting you to freak out, cringe, or at the very least laugh. He was expecting anything but the way you blinked awake, sitting up to rest against the antique headboard while you waited for your vision to adjust to the dark. He looks up at you from where he still lays on his back. You lick your lips in thought, your voice coming out in a sleepy rasp.

“…Can I watch?”

The silence is deafening. Tim was sure it was, despite not being able to hear anything but the sound of every ounce of blood in his body rushing south. You don’t stutter, you don’t apologize or try to suggest that you hadn’t understood what you were asking for. You just…waited. You waited, and you looked at him with such patience.

Needless to say, it left him a little speechless.

Somehow, he managed to find his voice but could only rasp out your name. Tim moved the sheets down just enough to free his aching cock, giving you a full view. Shifting, he sat up beside you, the wooden headboard cool against his back even though his shirt. He turned his gaze away as he resumed fisting his flushed erection, unable to look at you. How could he? This was against everything he believed in, up to and including the concept of letting his dick do the thinking for him. And just as he was about to come up with a way to shut this situation down before it escalated, you leaned over and spat on the head of his cock.

“Jesus fuck!” Tim cursed, his back arching at the warmth and wetness that mixed with his pre. Despite his shock, he continued to pump himself, wetting his cock with your spit. The back of his head knocked lightly against the headboard, his chest rising and falling both from the pleasure of beating off and your vulgar participation.

His eyes screw shut, breath hitching as he feels your head on his tense shoulder.

“What’re you thinking about?” You mumble curiously, watching him as he worked. Your fingers played with the fabric of his t-shirt, your thighs pressed together as you felt yourself beginning to grow wet between them.

“Right now?” He starts breathlessly. “How completely unhinged you are.”

It makes you laugh, but he’s not saying no, and you’re not saying no, and none of you are doing anything to untangle yourselves from this situation.

“Before,” Tim mumbled, continuing. “How your tits looked in that dress.”

Much like your time with Dick, you hadn’t been expecting the kinds of words Tim adopted when his eyes were glazed over with an unfamiliar desire. His measured breathing and broken groans are all the motivation you need to shimmy the hem of your nightgown up, just to dip your fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Did you wear those to the gala?” Tim asks, his gaze dropping to where your fingers stroked your throbbing clit.

“No,” You breathed honestly, reaching down just a bit more to cover your fingers with your own wetness. “I wore a thong. Panty lines.”

“Shit,” he panted. The small amount of moonlight that dipped into the room reflected off of your hair, your shoulders- and somewhat onto the wetness on your fingers as you worked them in and out of your body. His hand slowed a little to match your tempo. He groans out your name, his gaze turning to your face. “Fuck, you’re so pretty,”

“Mm, Tim…” You whimper as you curl your fingers into yourself. They’re not nearly as skilled or long as Dick’s, but you know you can get off without prodding the exact same spots he’d been able to reach within you. 

“You sound pretty too,” Tim huffed, trying to ignore the coiling in his abdomen. He was determined to make you come first, but he had started a bit before you. And with the intention of being purely mechanical. Now, it was far more than some quick stress relief. His shoulders tense further as he groans your name, just about to spill over the edge when you replace his hand with your own. He wants to admonish you for breaking your unspoken no-touching rule, but instead leans into the way you stroke him. Your hand is warm, fingers still covered in your own slick and spreading it onto him.

Leaning your head into his shoulder, you angle it so that you can still watch the work of your hand as he slings an arm around you. Burying his face against your hair, Tim inhales the scent of your shampoo, too close to his climax to worry about just how much he’d been wanting to do that.

Tim manages to choke out a desperate “Coming-“ muffled by your hair before he’s absolutely unloading all over your soft hand. Everything about you is soft- your palms, your skin, the slope of your shoulders and the fullness of your lips. 

For several moments, after the high of the act begins to clear, you both begin to wonder what to do. You’re sitting there, his nose brushing your temple and your hand covered in his cum. You move first, releasing his softening dick just before he removes his arm from around you.

Tim reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing a tissue to clean off your fingers as if you were a cat with paint on your paws. Neither of you know how to put words to what had happened, your hearts still racing. He refuses to do nothing, knowing that the wrong thing to do would be to spurn you or ignore what had just happened. So he brushes your hair away from your face, and presses his lips to your forehead.

And the very second you lean into it, allowing yourself to melt in his arms, he does that stupid big brother thing- where he ruins the moment by toppling onto you with his dead weight. 

“God, you’re such a freakkkkk.” You whine, playfully attempting to push him off as he begins to pepper your face in kisses. You squirm in his arms, but can’t beat back the grin that breaks out as he pulls you down into the bed.

“I know,” Tim snorts, keeping you trapped between him and the mattress. He rests his head against your clothed chest, the drooping of his eyelids heralding sleep. You were still worked up, and despite your newfound proclivities, you’re still polite. And you selflessly withhold a plea for release. Tim closes his eyes and you decide to give up entirely, hoping this is one of those times you’d be able to will away your arousal.

“Want me to eat you out?” 

His voice cuts through the quiet of the room after he lets you suffer in silence for about ten minutes. His voice is clear as a bell, free from the grogginess of sleep. How on earth was it possible for him to find a way to be annoying about getting you off?

“Oh, thank fuck.” You sigh, your hand sliding into his hair to help guide him downwards. 

#v.fic #kiss me more #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #nsft

[hellishere7980]

Whatever It Takes (CH-3)

“Master Bruce, in quite a lot of cases, you have not been ready for something yet, you took it on beautifully. Some mistakes did happen, but your imperfection is a part of you. I believe you'll know what to do with Damian and how to do it. You both are more similar than you think.”

“I'm not just talking about Damian, Alfred. That girl, Mariam. My daughter.” He said, gesturing towards the blank screen off the Batcomputer.

“I meant it in both cases, Master Bruce.”

Bruce sighed.

“It will be better in the morning.” Alfred said, gently directing Bruce out of the Batcave.

“Good night, Alfred.”

“You too, Master Bruce.” Alfred replied, gently turning off the main lights of the Batcave, leaving the softly humming machines in partial darkness.

Bruce shifted on his pillow his hand reaching out blindly to shut off the alarm clock. Soon the annoying ringing stopped and his muscles started losing the tension in them. Normally, Alfred would come and knock on the door, effectively waking Bruce up. But last night, before he went to bed, he set up the alarm purposefully so that he could have some time to actually process all that happened last night.

Okay. Bruce thought. I apparently have two kids. Their mother is Talia. They have grown up in the League of Assassins. That gir-Mariam most probably treated as horribly as Talia had been by Ra's Al Ghul, and Damian must have been treated like me when I was in that demon’s good books as his potential heir. Okay, Lot to unpack. I can't even decide how to treat them because I don't know if this assumption is true. Well, Bruce thought, getting out of bed. The only way to find out is to actually talk to him.

He went about dressing up for the day with a turtleneck sweater and some slacks. He called up his secretary, (If there are any gods up there, bless that guy who put up with him) and told him that he won't be able to make it today.

He got out of his room and was walking down the corridor towards Damian's guest room. He made a mental note to make sure he has an actual room if he is going to stay here. He turned around the corner to see Alfred about to knock Damian's door in order to get him up.

“Alfred!” He whisper-yelled.

The man in question turned around and raised an eyebrow.

“I was thinking I could get him up.” Bruce said as soon as he came within normal hearing range of Alfred.

“Good morning to you too, Master Bruce.”

“Sorry- Good morning, Alfred.”

Alfred just gave him a smile. “You see, Master Bruce? I told you that you would do what's best.” He turned around towards Tim and Dick’s rooms. “Be sure to come down with the Young Master in 20 minutes for breakfast.”

Bruce hummed in response and slowly opened the door. He saw that the boy had thrown off his sheets and was curled up in the bed.

“Damian?” Bruce hesitantly asked.

The lump on the bed shot up the dagger in front of him in perfect stance. Bruce put his hands up. They both stayed still in that position for 10 seconds before Damian lowered the dagger. “Sorry, Father.”

“No-no, it's all right. Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“I slept well.”

“Good. How about you change and we go down for breakfast?”

“Very well.”

Bruce smiled and turned around. Damian saw him hesitating for a second before Bruce gave him a soft smile and walked out of the room.

Damien scanned his surroundings before slouching back into the bed. I am at my father's house. I am safe here. I am at my father's house. I am safe here. I am at my father's house. I am safe here. He chanted back to himself willing his heart to slow down. He looked out of the window to see the Manor gardens. Mother had always claimed that those were quite pretty, maintained by his father's dear friend who was also his Butler.

He got out of the bed, and walked over to the closet, which had one pair of clothes in every size. Hmm. He thought. That is actually a practical way. He picked up the pair, which he thought would fit him best, walked into the bathroom, scanned for bugs and then changed. As soon as he opened his bedroom door, he saw Grayson who was comfortably leaning against the wall. As soon as he saw him, he stood up straight and gave him a smile. “Hey, Damian. Good morning.”

“Good morning, Grayson.” Damien replied back.

Dick shot him an amused look. “You can call me Dick.”

“No.” Damian said. “I'm not going to use degrading terms in reference to you. My sister did tell me to play nice, didn't she?”

“Actually, Dick is short for Richard.”

“Still is a derogatory term. However appropriate you may decide it to be in your case.”

They both turned around at the sound of laughing. Tim was laughing and desperately trying to make sure that his coffee didn't spill over. “I–” He said to Damian trying to catch his breath, “I like you.”

“Oh my!” Dick exclaimed dramatically. “Betrayed by my own teammate.”

“Come on, let's go, drama queen.” Tim said, shaking his head. “You're going to make the guy think you're actually a dick.”

After breakfast everyone headed down to the cave to find where Mariam could have gone. Well, at least Bruce and Tim were trying to find out where Mariam had gone. Dick and Damian were sparing after Damian refused to join in the search for his sister stating that it was a useless cause since ‘She has been trained. She knows how to protect herself. And the best thing about her is that she knows how to pick her battles.’

While this display of was enough for Dick and Alfred, Bruce and Tim still insisted on trying to find her. They were all interrupted by the soft rumbling of a car as it pulled into the parking lot of the bat cave. The Three resident bats, feeling a sense of Deja vu, slipped on their domino masks. Dick stood in front of Damian, blocking him from the view of the car by his lean frame. A female figure stepped out from the driver's seat. She stepped ahead and the light revealed her to be Talia.

“Are they here?” She asked, her eyes scanning The Cave.

Dick stood aside and Damian started walking towards his mother. Both mother and son met midway and hugged each other.

Talia whispered into Damian's hair, “You're safe. Oh, thank God–whoever is up there, you're safe.”

After she released Damian, she looked up around. “Where is Mariam?”

Bruce stepped forward towards them. “She took off as soon as she dropped Damian.”

“WHAT?!” Talia screamed. “SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY HERE. WHERE IS SHE?”

Bruce hesitantly began, “We couldn't find her. We're scanning through security cameras. We tried to match number plates. Nothing came up.”

“She wasn't supposed to leave?” Damian asked. His head turned up facing his mother.

“No. This is all wrong. She was supposed to stay here, with you.”

“She left a letter.” Tim said waving the piece of paper in question around.

“Huh?” Talia said.

“Yeah, she left me one too.” Damien piped in.

“Show me.” Talia said while getting up.

Tim handed her the envelope. She slowly opened it up and began to read. The letter was in Arabic.

Dear mother,

#maribat #miraculous lb #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanworks #damian and marinette #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne #tim drake #bio dad bruce wayne

[1donoow]

DC REC

PT.2

......

♡ - smut

Most of them are fluff

......

<a/n>i somewhat explain why there's alot in my pin post

batmom

batfam

batsis

bruce wayne

garfield logan

Jason todd

alfred pennyworth

batmom

@batfam-imagines - things batmom has definitely said

@dc-x-readers - open door policy (young justice x batmom)

@morgansunflower - sleep well my precious robin

- busted

@battymommastuff - injury

- hey mom (titan)

- that's my mom (amazonian!reader)

@timetravelassasin - mom us an assassin

@blackcupidangel - motherhood

@bluebellhairpin - video tapes

- what they call batmom

@kimberly-spirits13 - saving the day (scarlet witch!batmom)

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - batmom cleaning jason up after his first time as robin

@xoxo-mylove - i hate that soothing voice(dick grayson)

- new beginnings (jason todd)

@dragon-chica - batmom

———————————————————————

batfam

@butwhyduh - ___

@riotlain - batboy's s/o giving small gifts to them

@kayadrake123 - batboys x famous reader

———————————————————————

batsis

@current-interest-writings - nicknames a family tradition

@alessabriel - y/n wayne!venom (male reader)

@detectivemarvelingcomics - not your classic vigilante ch.2

@kimberly-spirits13 - batsibling with black panther suit/ persona

@flying-nightwing - life lesson (never kidnap a wayne kid)

———————————————————————

bruce wayne

@catxsnow - let's have a baby

@ellabxrnes - hypnotist

@invisibleanonymousmonsters - trauma (daughter!reader)

@headcans-oneshots-and-stuff - lost,found and consequences (toddler!reader)

@dragon-chica - faithful couple

———————————————————————

garfield logan

@busylickingsatansballs - pretty kitty

@hobiiwan - ___

@gangrenados - ___

- morning hc

@wondergotham - Being Best Friends w/Conner & Gar

@multifandomimaginesworld - dating gar logan would include

@ghostdrafts - gar logan dating headcannon

@kioelo - time

@idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 - you have a connection

@gars-jasons-gf - relationship hc pt.2

———————————————————————

jason todd

@ghost-soap - ___

@nightwings-circus - husband-zoned

@iheartdoll - jason todd hc

@cipheress-to-k-pop - curls

@a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all - perfect

@veronica-17-hood - ___

@s1ater - daddy's girl pt.1 (batsis)

@katsumox - jason todd headcannon

@rekiilysm - adore you

@redhoodedangel - scars that last (scarlet witch!reader)

@book-place - a day with jay (sister!reader)

@thebisexualdogdad - jason todd dating roy harper's brother

@ellana-ravenwood - draw me like one of your french boy

- A baby in the family

@kaleidoscopewritings19 - halloween special (black widow!reader)

@yourlocalcringydaydreamer - jason with autistic reader

@xxgoblin-dumplingxx - Jason resting his head on reader's ass

- jason seeing you in a swimsuit for the first time

- jason with baby fever

- jason todd being soft for his girlfriend

- jason loosing the reader in a store

- jason getting babied

- bruce disapproving of reader and jason's relationship until

- jason's reading glasses

- ___(gentle giant!jason)

>>>>>teddy!verse<<<<<

•teddy referring reader as mother for the first time •protective mama bear •dad!jason meeting his wife for the first time •bruce talking with teddy!verse reader •mother's day lunch •jason calling the reader ridiculous pet names

———————————————————————

alfred pennyworth

@lazydoodlesandfanfic - needing a cheer up (daughter!reader)

#masterlist #dc rec #batmom #batfam #batsis #bruce wayne x reader #garfield logan x reader #jason todd x reader #alfred pennyworth x reader

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 1

summary: Natasha identifies a girl who needs their help and makes a case to the rest of the team. the problem? the girl who needs the help was genetically engineered to oppose their friend.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

chapter list

________________________________________

Three Months Earlier

The team filed into the conference room at The Avengers’ Compound in their usual order: Steve and Vision (fifteen minutes early), Peter, Bruce, Wanda, and Sam right on time, and Tony striding in five minutes late. 

“I have to admit, when I heard you wanted to see me, I was hoping for more of a one-on-one situation.” Sam joked as he plopped down in his chair. 

“Keep dreaming, Wilson.” She shot him a side-eyed glance, a shadow of a smile on her face. 

The room held a strange energy, remaining unusually quiet as everyone waited for Natasha to explain the reason for calling the meeting. Steve and Tony had historically been the only ones to call official team briefings. 

“I found a girl.” Natasha slid a stack of folders across the table. 

“Hey, love is love. As long as I can watch.” Tony grinned. 

“Shut up.” She ignored him and clicked a button on her computer, bringing a set video footage to life on the screen behind her. “Her name is Charlotte Julianna Rossi. She’s 21 years old, according to her Drivers’ License. According to her birth certificate, she’s closer to 100.” 

The room fell quiet, Steve and Natasha exchanging a sobering gaze. The screen on the wall showed several clips at once, all featuring a pretty young girl. Her hair was different colors across all of the clips, some showing her with long, blonde locks and some showing a cropped dark haircut with severe bangs, others showing varying shades of red. 

“She’s hardly been on the radar until the past two years. In that time period, she’s been hospitalized seventeen times for injuries consistent with overuse and extreme fatigue. Rhabdomyolysis, kidney damage, severe muscle strain, dehydration, the list goes on. Every single time, she’s admitted in a critical state but checks herself out against medical advice less than 24 hours later.” 

As the team shuffled through the documents in front of them, putting pieces together, Natasha continued. 

“I found her because she made headlines earlier this year after getting kicked out of Team USA Olympic trials for women’s gymnastics. They tried to cover it up, didn’t want to get any questions they didn’t have an answer for. From what I was able to gather, she came out of nowhere, competed at the last National Championship meet as an unaffiliated gymnast, and won every event with a perfect score. The entire gymnastics community was up in arms about it. They tried to figure out where she came from, where she trained, but there was nothing. No record. Of course, Team USA begged her to come to the tryout, she blew them away. Somehow, one of the families of the gymnasts at risk of losing their spot got her kicked off for use of performance enhancing drugs. The thing is, there’s no record of her ever even being tested.”

“No offense, Nat, but we aren’t exactly looking to start a Cirque Du Soleil Troupe here.” 

“Tony, shut the fuck up and let me finish.” She gave him an austere look as he put his hands up defensively. 

“Since then, she’s won a dozen amateur MMA matches, three boxing matches, and won fifteen straight games of poker before being banned from the majority of Vegas casinos. She’s making her money drifting, picking up random things and kicking everyone’s ass at them. Clearly, it’s not without a toll, if you look at her hospital records.”

She clicked a button and the screen shifted, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. A grainy document had been scanned in, the HYDRA symbol emblazoned on the top of the letterhead. 

“Project Mockingbird. It was pioneered two years after the Winter Soldier project. Specifically, it was initiated only ten days after a record seventeen HYDRA agents were critically injured trying to contain their primary test subject during an attempted escape.” 

Wanda spoke slowly. “You mean…”

“Bucky.” Steve breathed out. 

“Right.” Natasha was solemn. “I didn’t want to leave him out of this, but I didn’t know how he’d handle it. I figured it was better to tell him once we have more information.” 

Steve nodded, brow knit together in concern. 

“Okay, so I think I’m tracking all of this, but if you could - just so I’m clear, what exactly does all of this mean?” Peter leaned forward nervously. 

Taking a deep breath, Natasha answered. “This is just a hypothesis, but I don’t see much wiggle room. It appears that when HYDRA was working on the Winter Soldier project, on Bucky…they had difficulties containing him. Controlling him. When it became apparent that ordinary agents couldn’t do it, they took to experimenting on others. Orphans, mainly. People no one would miss. Trying to create something…someone to be able to stand against him.”

She pulled out a chair and sat for the first time, regarding all of them seriously. “They had dozens of test subjects. The majority of them didn’t survive the initial round of experimentation. A few others suffered complications in cryo. She’s the only one left.”

“Forgive me for being so forward,” Vision spoke up. “But, if I’m understanding correctly, we have reason to believe that Ms. Ross, she was created to oppose Sergeant Barnes.” 

“Yes.” Natasha avoided Steve’s eyes like her life depended on it. “I believe that Charlotte Julianna Rossi was enhanced by HYDRA as a sentient weapon with the primary purpose being containment and control of The Winter Soldier.” 

Present Day

“Thank you.” Natasha gave a polite smile to the driver as he opened the car door for her to step out. They’d arrived at the Wynn, one of - if not the nicest hotels on the Las Vegas strip. 

She’d wasted no time after the mission was approved, spending the majority of the flight putting on full glam and finishing it off with the perfect red lip. Black cocktail dress, gold heels that caught and reflected all the Vegas lights, studded clutch purse with cash, lipstick, and a pistol. Tony had offered to book her a hotel room through his connections, but she’d waved him off. 

They’d be back in New York by sunrise. 

It didn’t take long for her to locate Charlotte. Though 8pm was early by Vegas accounts, the casino was lively. Natasha dodged several attempted pick-up attempts by drunken gamblers as she wove through the tables to her end destination: the high stakes room. A sultry smile paired with her low cut dress made quick work of gaining entry. It wasn’t unusual for beautiful women to be welcomed into the high stakes room. The only thing rich men loved more than blowing money was doing it in front of a pretty audience. Nat slipped into the intimate room, the air full of cigar smoke and jazz music. 

Seated at a small table was a pretty brunette, eyes dark with smudged shadow and lips glossy. A martini sat in front of her, completely untouched, judging by the lack of a gloss print on the rim. Charlotte tapped the table in front of her, signaling for the dealer to give her another card. She already showed a nineteen, meaning standard play said she shouldn’t hit. The crowd murmured, exchanging glances. In the betting circle was a stack of $1,000 chips that Natasha estimated to be around $20,000. 

To the shock of everyone but Natasha and Charlotte, the dealer flipped a third card to reveal a two of diamonds. Blackjack. 

Charlotte grinned, leaning back and relishing in the applause as the dealer paled and began counting out chips to pay her. Nat cracked a smile but immediately felt a jolt in her stomach. The dealer had given a nod to the guard at the front, who was now touching his earpiece and speaking softly. She couldn’t hear him over the music, but his lips read clear as day: She must be counting. 

Acting quickly, Nat stepped to the table, making herself wobbly and heavy lidded.

“Ohmygod, THERE you are,” she put a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder, who immediately tensed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, c’mon, the girls are waiting with the Uber,”

She squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder and briefly broke character to give an urgent look, hoping she’d pick up on the fact that the drunk persona was intentional.

“Oh, look at the time,” She said in mock surprise. “It’s been fun, don’t have too much fun without me!” Her manicured hands slid stacks of chips into her purse, a few falling to the floor with wide-eyed spectators locked onto them. 

“Get yourself something nice, Gary.” She flicked a purple $1,000 chip to the dealer who fumbled to catch it. Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw two men approaching them from across the casino floor. She elbowed Charlotte, who tracked her gaze and clocked them immediately. 

Waving her arm, Natasha knocked the still-full martini glass onto the felt of the Blackjack table. The gin spewed across the cards and glass splintered on contact. “Oh, jeez, I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t have taken that last shot,” She called the apology over her shoulder into the chaos that descended over the mess, linking her arm through Charlotte’s as she fumbled to close her small bag around the massive amount of chips. 

They slid out the door under the cover of the bachelorette party walking past, slipping right into the middle of the drunken parade. 

“What’s going on?” The brunette hissed through a fake smile, keeping the facade up. 

“You were about to get busted. I thought I’d help a girl out.” Nat said through her own plastered smile, eyes darting around the room in search of their next problem. 

“I know what I’m doing.” 

“I know. That’s why I’m here in the first place.” 

Charlotte side-eyed her as they walked through the casino, still covered by the herd of pink boas and giggles. 

“Stark sent you.” 

“No.”

“I’m not stupid, I-”

“He’s the stupid one. I wanted to come in the first place, it was him who thought the testosterone brigade was the way to go. We can get into that later, but right now we’ve gotta move. There’s two coming up -”

“Yeah, six o’clock. Two more probably waiting around the corner up ahead. If we cut through the floor, we can make it to the cashier before they get to us.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, impressed at how they jumped to the same wavelength. “You still want to cash out?”

Charlotte grinned, a wild gleam in her eye. “Duh.” 

A few minutes later, they’d steered the group of girls to the cashier and fanned them out so that each of the six windows had two girls standing in front of it. Each of them with roughly $4,000 worth of chips in their hands. They got through the exchanges in record time, leaving the bachelorettes in a flurry of drunken “iloveyou’s” with a stack of bills to show their appreciation for the help. 

“That should cover the rest of their weekend.” Nat smirked as they strode quickly to the lobby, positioning her body slightly in front of Charlotte so as not to draw attention to the thick wads of cash she was zipping into her bag. 

“I don’t know, I can blow three grand pretty quickly on my own, let alone with ten of my closest friends.” 

“I don’t think I want ten friends.” 

Charlotte matched her pace, the bag finally zipped. “I don’t even know ten people, I just thought it sounded good.” 

They reached the front doors, nodding at the valet who held the door open for them. 

“I have a driver, this way.” Natasha cocked her head to the front of the valet line, full of sports cars and sleek SUVs. Glancing over her shoulder at the casino, the men seemed to have lost them in the crowd. Charlotte weighed her options quickly, deciding that taking a getaway car with the Avenger was preferable to whatever awaited her if she stayed.

They slid into the backseat of the black sedan, breathing quickly from adrenaline. 

“You’re back so soon, Ms. Romanoff.” The driver called from the front seat. 

“It was getting stale, figured I could find something more fun.” 

The driver’s eyes crinkled in a knowing smile in the rearview mirror. Charlotte had a feeling he knew much more than he should, choosing to live in ignorance. 

“You hungry?” the redhead asked nonchalantly. 

“Starving.” 

_________________

The duo sat in a secluded corner booth of a dark bar. The remnants of two burgers sat strewn across the plates, a few leftover fries getting cold. Natasha signaled to the bartender for another round of martinis, extra dirty. 

“Who knew the best burgers in Vegas would come from a strip club?” Charlotte downed the remnants of her drink to make room for the new one. 

“Hey, I’m no stranger to Vegas.” 

“So I can tell.” She shifted to sit up straighter. “Do you wanna get into your sales pitch now, or should we wait for the drinks?”

Natasha remained casual, leaning against the pristine leather of the booth. “There’s no sales pitch. Just an offer. Take it or leave it.” 

“And the offer is…?” 

“Come with me. Back to New York. Live at the compound. Be around people like you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “There are no people like me.” 

“Spare me the pity party bullshit.” Nat leaned in. “I don’t know the specifics of your story, but I know enough to tell you that we are like you.”

Taken aback by her forcefulness, the brunette narrowed her eyes. 

“Enhanced individual? Pretty much all of us. Dark, twisty past? We’ve got ‘em. Done things we aren’t proud of? Goes without saying. No friends, no family? We have a very dysfunctional Thanksgiving of our own.” She gave a small smile. “Experimented on, dehumanized, controlled, stripped of autonomy? Specifically by one particular Nazi rogue science division?” Natasha changed her tone, speaking gently. “One of my very best friends knows a little something about that, too.” 

Charlotte tensed, eyes glazed as she stared into the dark room in front of them. “James Barnes.” It wasn’t a question. 

“We call him Bucky.” 

Chewing her lower lip, Charlotte seemed lost in her thoughts. A cocktail waitress interrupted with two fresh drinks, setting them down with a smile. Eyes still defocused, she reached out to sip the drink slowly. 

“I don’t think it’s smart.” 

“Why?” Natasha took a sip of her own. “There’s nowhere safer for you. The Compound is literally the most secure place on Earth, except maybe Wakanda, and before you say you’re worried about hurting someone there - don’t. We live with Dr. Banner, who you probably know as the Hulk. I’m sure you’re a force to be reckoned with, but I can assure you that even on your worst day you wouldn’t be putting us at risk.”

She spun the wooden stick adorned with olives between her fingers, thinking. “I don’t want to be an Avengers. I’m not a hero. I don’t want to fight.” 

“Then don’t.” Natasha shrugged. “I’m not a military recruiter. I just remember what it was like to be alone, scared. Unsure where to go or who to trust. I’m offering you a home and a group of people you can count on. Anything else is up to you.” 

Charlotte smirked. “You’re much better at this than the last three.” 

“Story of my life.” She rolled her eyes.

“So, what would happen if I said yes? Hypothetically.” 

“Well, hypothetically, I have a jet waiting at the private airfield. We’d go to whichever hotel you’re renting the penthouse out of, get your stuff, and fly back tonight.” 

“Why do you assume I’m renting out a penthouse?” 

Natasha grinned, biting an olive off the stick. “It’s what I would do.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Charlotte cocked her jaw. “I’m at the Cosmo.”

“Great choice.” She held her martini up, signaling for a toast. “How about this, we go out tonight. Do Vegas right. Do it big. If you have fun, you come back with me and try living with us. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll accept that I’m no better than the guys and go back on my own. We won’t bug you anymore, but the offer will always stand.”

“You know, a bet predicated on having fun in Las Vegas seems like a very unfair advantage.” She raised her own glass.

“I’ve never been much of a gambler.” 

“That makes one of us.” Charlotte grinned. “You’re on.” 

_________________

It was just after 4:00am when their dutiful driver opened the door on the tarmac. Heels in hand, two sets of bare feet walked up the steps into the sleek jet, Stark Industries emblazoned on the side. 

“I still can’t believe they kicked us out.” Charlotte rubbed her temples as she sunk into the white leather seat. 

“Well they don’t really encourage doing backflips off of the craps table.” Natasha sat down across from her. 

“Here I thought Vegas was the one place where anything goes.” She dropped her purse on the table in front of them, the thud echoing in the empty cabin. “At least we made out alright.” 

“I expect a cut for saving your ass.” 

“I’ll consider it.” 

“You like pancakes?” Natasha punched a few buttons on a screen embedded in the wall.

“Um, who doesn’t?” 

Grinning, the redhead slid her feet onto the seat, getting comfortable. “They’ll be ready in fifteen. Probably best if we get something in our stomachs besides tequila.”

“If I knew you were offering private jets and pancakes at four in the morning, I might have been an easier sell.” 

“What are you talking about? You hardly put up a fight.” She winked. 

“Whatever, you won fair and square. I’m just holding up my end of the deal.” Charlotte tucked her knees under her, relaxing into the chair as the plane ascended.

“We’ve got a couple hours back to New York. Eat, rest, and we’ll be there before you know it. If you aren’t up for meeting people when we land, I’ll sneak you to your room. You can socialize when you’re not coming off of an all-night bender.” 

“What, you don’t think I’d make a good first impression right now?” She joked, fully aware of her smeared eye makeup and tousled hair. 

“Au contraire, I think you’d make too good of an impression. I’m just trying to give the guys a fighting chance here.”

Giggles subsiding, Charlotte looked out the window at the pinpricks of light shrinking beneath them. The smell of pancakes and overly sweet syrup filled the air as a stewardess wheeled the food out towards them. 

“Natasha?” 

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you came.” 

She smiled, warmth extending to her eyes. 

“Me too.”  

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #bucky fluff #avengers #winter soldier #winter soldier fluff #sebastian stan #avenger!reader #avengers fanfiction #the avengers

[mochie85]

Just Breathe - Chapter 5

Just Breathe Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: What really happened during your last moments at the hidden HYDRA facility. A/N: If you liked the sad ending in Ch. 4, then don't continue. This chapter was to soothe my soul. It is for me as much as it is for everyone out there who wanted a happy ending. Pairing: Loki x Reader (OFC) Word Count: Over 3k Warnings: Mentions of death, mostly fluff.

1 week ago. New York.

The sun was setting over the hills. There was a gentle breeze that swirled in the afternoon air taking with it the scents of bouquets that littered the cemetery grounds.

It was a small funeral. They were fortunate enough to gather something from where they left your ashes at the hidden HYDRA facility.

Stark had paid for the services and your niche at the columbarium. He donated a hefty sum to give you your own wall and a bench to sit with you. No one else was present but the team. Loki knew that Bruce had sent out an announcement to your former family.

Loki didn’t bother to know whether their lack of attendance was because of not caring or because they were embarrassed. Either way, they weren’t here.

“A shame. She was so young. So talented.” A deep voice carried itself over to Loki’s ear. “She had the whole world to breathe in and no one gave her a chance to exhale.”

The man sat down next to Loki. He held his walking stick in between his legs as he looked straight ahead. “Except for when she was with you,” the man continued.

“Is there someone else you could bother with your endless prattling?” Loki glowered.

“No. Not really. She asked me specifically to talk to you,” the man answered in riddles. Loki lifted his head, finally settling his eyes on the man that dared speak with him.

The gentleman continued to look straight ahead. He had purple-tinted glasses with a bruise gracing his upper cheek. The knuckles on his hands that clutched his walking stick were bloodied and torn, almost healed. Loki couldn’t shake the feeling that he had met this man before.

“Are you all right? Do you need someone to help with your…” Loki pointed towards his bruises.

“I’m blind. I get into accidents a lot,” the man said as a way of explanation.

Loki narrowed his eyes and said, “We both know there’s a hint of a lie in that statement. For example, how would you even know I was referring to your bruises if you were completely blind?”

The man chuckled. “You know, she asked me the very same question when she first met me on the rooftop those many months ago. Matt Murdock,” the man said holding out his hand in greeting.

The pieces started to fit together as Loki remembered seeing you with the masked devil on one of your patrols. “Loki. Laufeyson. Prince of Asgard,” he introduced himself, shaking his hand.

“She asked me to come meet you…” Matt started.

“Shh…shh…” Loki quieted him down, turning around to see if any of the others were watching or listening. No one was the wiser. Everyone milling about talking to themselves. Patting each other on the back for a job well done and quietly thanking their deities that it wasn’t them. It wasn’t their funeral the team was attending. Just like you had predicted.

Loki looked back at Matt, and a pang of jealousy struck his nerve. Of all the people you had decided to contact, he thought he would be your first. But instead, you chose to go to the devil himself.

“From my sources, I thought she had died in that unfortunate mission you guys went on,” Murdock continued. “Imagine to my surprise, that a week later, I heard her familiar breathing, her recognizable heartbeat. I thought I was going crazy at first.

“She needed a place to stay. So, I let her stay with me until she could find her own. When she heard about this funeral taking place, she asked for a favor,” he finished with a smile.

“A favor? So, what was in it for you?” Loki asked suspiciously.

“She helped me take down a few people. Accompanied me to some high-stakes brawls I needed help with,” Murdock smiled. “Hence…” he lifted his hands and showcased his healing knuckles.

“I can’t believe I saved her life only so she can put it in danger once again.” Loki strained. Matt laughed.

“Yes, but you gave her the freedom to do so. Not many people would have given her that.” Matt reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “As her lawyer, I advised against this until she had a new identity, by the way. But she insisted.” Loki reached for the card and in black script was an address in Brooklyn. A vague sense of familiarity washed over him as he read the address. “She’ll be waiting for you.”

2 weeks prior. Hidden HYDRA facility, Georgia.

“I’m not gonna make it, am I?” you asked meekly. Loki looked down on you, hurrying towards the aircraft. “Lie to m-, g-god of mischief,” you whispered.

“You’re going to be fine, darling,” he said, coolly. You smiled up at him one last time and exhaled your last breath.

“Darling, w-wake up.” Loki shook your body as he fell to his knees again. “Zee! This is no laughing matter. I need you to wake up!” he cried. “ZEE!” Loki’s face twisted in pain as he watched your lips part to your dying breath. The fire in your eyes, the one that he loved so much, the fire that he looked forward to seeing every time he annoyed you or got on your nerves, extinguished.

“Loki!” Rogers yelled. “She’s causing an explosion around her. You need to leave her!”

“I- NO. I can’t!” Loki cried. The fire grew around you. You woke up momentarily with a searing pain in your abdomen. The pain was slowly draining you of your vision. Loki engulfed both of you in his seidr as the fire rose higher and built a wall covering both of your figures on the ground.

“Darling, a change of plans,” he decided. He couldn’t let you die. He had to do something, and you blacking out just cemented his decision that much quicker.

“Loki…”

“I only have enough seidr to heal you and keep you invisible till we leave.”

“N-no, Loki. I need you,” you cried. Mostly from the pain, but also from realizing that Loki had intended to leave you.

“I’ll leave your duffel here. I’ll heal you and make you invisible. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound and I’ll try to get everyone on the jet as quickly as possible. As soon as you see the jet on the horizon, you run as if Fenrir was behind you. Do you understand?”

“You were suppose-to…you were supposed to come with me.”

“I know, Zee. But I won’t have enough power left to heal you and then make both of us imperceptible.”

“Then, don’t heal me!”

“Absolutely I will! You stubborn woman. You won’t survive otherwise. And even if I agree. All your moaning and blood will tip them off to where we are. The plan has changed.”

“But what about you? You won’t be free.”

“I’ll find a way.”

“When?”

“I’ll find a way! Don’t come back. Stay away as much as possible till things scale down. Do you hear me? Wait till everyone forgets who you are. That you were even part of the team.” He commanded and you simply nodded as tears washed down your face.

A flash of green soothed your skin and centered on your abdomen. The relief was temporary as you felt your skin knit itself back together. Pinches and stings. Pain and agony.

You yelled out as your skin closed in on itself and you let out a blinding flash of light from the fire growing all around you. “Darling, until we meet again,” he whispered.

“Until we meet again,” you repeated kissing him. You wound your hands in his hair willing him to change his mind. Loki broke the kiss first. He knew that if he continued, his resolve would break, and he would try to find a way to make you both leave tonight, together. But he can’t. He would have to practice the one thing he didn’t have, patience.

“Hold still,” he whispered, and the flames died down. His seidr fell and retracted into himself. You could only see his face. His bright eyes now glistened with tears. The soot from the fires covered his armor and smudged his face.

You watched him, seeing him for the first time. His deep blue-green eyes. His sharp cheeks and pointed jaw. The intensity and passion on his face. You moved marginally, your hands quivering to hold his face. You wanted to memorize the face of the man that helped you gain your freedom and sacrificed his own.

Loki squeezed your wrist. His fingers sinking deeper into the ground.

“Loki,” Roger’s voice sounded near your head. “I’m sorry Loki.” Loki’s face turned abruptly towards him. His eyes were like daggers affixed to cutting Steve down. He doesn’t get to be sorry, you could almost hear Loki say it.

Loki gracefully stood up. His eyes never left yours as if he could see you. As if he could warn you not to move. He stepped over your body, over what looked like a pile of dust and ash on the ground. He left your path of sight, you wanted to turn to see him go, but you were painfully aware of the Captain kneeling right by your head.

You closed your eyes instead, trying to remember his face. The way his eyes looked at you, and hopefully, it won’t be the last time you see them again.

As soon as the quinjet’s doors shut, you turned your head to see it lift. When it was nothing but a black spot in the distant horizon, was when you finally moved. You didn’t have much time; you knew the clean-up crew would be here soon. “I’m coming for you, Loki.”

The Present. New York.

Loki walked over to the other side of that wall, where only your plaque had been installed. A small stone plate That read your name.

Zephyr Friend and Avenger.

Loki ran his fingers through your name. Whispering it with reverence. He planted the lilies on the canister by your plaque and sat down at the bench behind him.

He took a deep breath in and sighed, reading the last line of your headstone.

Until we meet again.

And Loki smiled.

He smiled because in his breast pocket was the card Matt Murdock handed him a week prior, during your funeral.

You stubborn woman. He told you not to come back here. To wait till everything calmed down. You were always so impatient and reckless.

Just a couple more minutes and the surveillance drone he knew the Falcon had sent after him will go away, leaving him alone to grieve with his thoughts. He left Stark’s car parked outside the cemetery gates and used public transit to make his way to the address written on the card.

He was nervous. He hadn’t seen you in over a month. He told you to stay away. Should he reprimand you? Should he be angry that you didn’t listen to him? Or should he run into your arms and spin you around as an old friend should?

Thoughts of the last time he saw you plagued his mind. His last image of you was of pain and loss. You were in his arms, losing a lot of blood from the gunshot wound in your abdomen. You were so light. So, frail. You both had said a hasty goodbye, changing the plans on you to save your life and to grant you your freedom.

Before he knew it, he was standing in front of a brown-bricked building, housing a patisserie on the lower floors. He looked up, noting the few windows that had their lights on, and wondered which one was yours.

You stood on your balcony looking over the Brooklyn Bridge and its many lights. You were nursing your second glass of wine, taking a deep breath, and blowing out a small squall in your hands.

“Are you sure you should be showing off like that?” Daredevil asked crouching on your ledge.

“Why not? I haven’t been able to practice or use my power in over a month.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want to be used for my power. Not that I didn’t want to use it,” you answered back. Matt laughed. “I never thanked you for helping me. I would never have this life if it weren't for you.”

“Yes, this boring, unassuming life. Devoid of drama and revenge. Don’t you miss it?”

“No,” you laughed. “You look for trouble, Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. I don’t think you could live without it.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna want to come with me on these stakeouts. You must be so bored working in that bakery downstairs. Then coming back up here. Not leaving the building at all.” Matt stilled, a small smile forming on his face as he heard some all-too-familiar footsteps. “Speaking of drama…I better go. I’ll come back with some papers for you to sign for your new identity.”

“Ok. Thanks for stopping by Red,” you smiled, wondering why his behavior was so abrupt all of a sudden. You watched as he ran and jumped onto the building next to yours. “Who’s the showoff now?” you whispered, but you knew he heard you.

You finished the rest of your wine, holding up the empty glass to your eyes. You watched the twinkling lights of New York, not through a glass wall but with your own eyes. Breathing your own air.

Eventually, you turned, making your way inside the small studio apartment to make dinner. The bright white walls contrasted with the one brick façade and a large floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the bridge. You closed the door to the balcony and stood still, hearing a buzz on your intercom. Oh, I didn’t think Matt would be back so soon.

Walking up to the comms, Loki searched for your new name. Alizeh Ghavi. His allspeak translated your name, Fierce Winds. You’ve come a long way from Y/N Y/L/N, he thought.

Alizeh. He tried your new name on his tongue. Ah-lee-zay…Zay?...Zee. You will always be Zee. He pushed the button, and he was immediately met with static and a loud buzz unlocking the front door. He walked the steps, painfully slow. Up three flights, nervous about what he was going to say or what he was going to do.

When he reached your door, he knocked twice and waited.

“Matt! The door is open, is Foggy with you?” you shouted through the door. Loki was crestfallen. How often did Murdock come here? Did he not say you were expecting him? Why would you think it was Matt Murdock?

Loki opened the door hesitantly, walking his way past your threshold. The air smelled of garlic and tomatoes. Music was playing from a speaker well inside your apartment and there you were in the kitchen, wearing a baby blue skater dress that went down to your knees, barefoot.

“I’m making spaghetti tonight. I hope you guys haven’t already…” that’s when you turned around and saw him.

You were stunned. You weren’t expecting to see the tall handsome god in your entryway. He was dressed in a formal black suit with a green satin handkerchief in his pocket.

“It’s not Murdock, darling.”

“No. No, it’s not.” You stood there biting your lip, taking him all in.

“I can go get him if you…” you ran up to him and threw your arms around his neck. Your lips met his and as soon as he wrapped his arms around your waist, he lifted you up and twirled you around making you laugh.

“I never thought I’d see you so soon,” you whispered in his ear, giving him a tight hug.

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“You told me to stay away. At the very least, I thought you’d be angry with me for not listening to you.”

“You never listen to me,” Loki chuckled. “I didn’t expect you to start now…and at the very most?”

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to come back anyway. You and I…we never really started off on the right foot.”

“No, we didn’t,” Loki smiled as he took you all in. His hands felt full as he ran them up and down your sides. Your cheeks were rich with color and plummy. The sheen on your hair was brighter. And the sparkle in your eyes, the fire in them, wasn’t lost after all.

“How long can you stay?” you asked looking up into his eyes.

“Not long,” he answered back weary, thinking about Stark’s car, transportation, and the watchful eyes of the team. If he hoped to continue to see you, this would have to do for now, until he could arrange something more permanent.

“Ok. Are they still watching you?” you asked. “Yes.” “Are you free?” “More than before.” “Will you come back?” “Try and stop me,” Loki grinned.

One year later. Brooklyn, New York.

Every weekend, for the past year, had been filled with clandestine meetings. Loki would leave early in the morning on Saturdays, under the pretense of visiting your niche at the cemetery. The team had kept an eye on him at first, but eventually, they relaxed their surveillance on Loki, letting him have his weekends to himself as long as there weren’t any pressing missions.

Loki walked into your apartment and set down a bouquet of roses on the kitchen counter. He continued to loosen his tie, not even once, looking up in your direction, as he took off his suit jacket and hung it up on the rack by your front door.

He then turned to the windows as he rolled up his sleeves and there you would be: anxiously waiting for him to turn off his Avenger persona and relax to the role of your secret lover.

He caught sight of you bathed in the sunlight and reflections of glass from the city behind you. Every time he looked at you, his breathing would hitch and the air around him would get hotter. He smiled and opened his arms, “Come here,” he growled biting down his lip.

And each time you would run into his arms as he holds you tightly, squeezing you, stealing your breath with a kiss. The way you always stole his.

⬅️Chapter 4 | Series Masterlist | Complete Masterlist➡️

@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writes @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias @lokixryss @athalialaufeyson @thedistractedagglomeration @theotherspiderlady @holdmytesseract @gigglingtigger

#just breathe #loki fandom #loki fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #loki angst #loki series #mcu #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x OC #Marvel fanfic #MCU fanfic #marvel fanfic

[hanasnx]

-ˏ͛ ꒷꒰ dc comics ⿻ m.list ꒷ˏ͛-

MINORS DNI 18+ ༄

"Athair ar Neamh, Dia liom / Sacramentum eo deo." — Enya. (1995). Pax Deorum.

彡 ch: bruce wayne 「 � 」

── one shots ┆ OVER 1K.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ mercury: retrograde | SUMMARY: after your failed attempt to recover the last pieces of joker present in the victims of his diseased blood donation, you discover a mystery about the batman in both body and spirit.

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ nineteenyearold!reader ✩ sugar daddy ✩ young!

── headcanons ┆ LIST OR NARRATION.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ kinks

other ¡! ❞

✩ headcanons

彡 ch: dick grayson 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ facial ✩ stretches

彡 ch: terry mcginnis 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ ripped tights ✩ your voice

other ¡! ❞

✩ maybe i should step in

── headcanons ┆ LIST OR NARRATION.

other ¡! ❞

✩ "your voice" headcanons

彡 ch: jason todd 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ baby daddy! part three

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ code mistake ✩ mean ✩ sweet gf ✩ doctor!reader ✩ slapping ✩ thigh fucking ✩ daddy! ✩ dry humping ✩ one night stand ✩ no filter

other ¡! ❞

✩ jacket ✩ baby daddy! part two

── headcanons ┆ LIST OR NARRATION.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ baby daddy!

彡 ch: talon 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ drabble

彡 ch: dr. manhattan 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ drabble

彡 ch: wally west 「 � 」

── headcanons ┆ LIST OR NARRATION.

other ¡! ❞

✩ wayne!reader

彡 ch: reader x bruce wayne x dick grayson x jason todd 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

other ¡! ❞

✩ drabble | part two

彡 ch: nanaue x louise lincoln ��� � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smutty ¡! ❞

✩ drabble

彡 ch: j'onn j'onzz 「 � 」

── drabbles ┆ ABOUT 1K OR LESS.

smut ¡! ❞

✩ shapeshifter

NAVI | M.LIST | RULES | LINKS | ABOUT

#masterlist #indy: series #indy: one shots #indy: drabbles #indy: headcanons #indy: edits #ch: bruce #ch: dick #ch: terry #ch: jason #ch: talon #ch: jon #ch: wally #ch: nanaue x louise #ch: j'onn #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #terry mcginnis smut #terry mcginnis x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #talon smut #talon x reader #dr. manhattan smut #dr. manhattan x reader #wally west x reader #reader x bruce wayne x dick grayson x jason todd #nanaue x louise lincoln

[piedpiperart]

You Could Know Me pt 2

Chapter One

Jason was regretting going to the manor this morning. For one, the whole family was dealing with the League of Assassins again. Unbeknownst to most of them, Ra’s apparently had a pretty big grudge against Tim. Jason was impressed to hear about the whole blowing up all of the league bases, but that isn’t the most important thing here. 

No, the most important thing about this whole thing is that Ra’s was trying to get back at Tim, and Jason had been left with a choice to make. It was Tim, Duke and Jason facing off against an army of highly trained ninjas. Tim was injured, barely able to stand, and the rest of the bats were held up in some sort of trap downtown. Jason never did get the details on that situation. 

No, Jason was too busy trying to keep Tim out of Ra’s hands. Duke, Jason’s new favorite brother, took his advice to get Tim and get out while Jason stayed to take on the ninja horde. At that point, Tim was barely conscious, but Duke was able to use the shadows to sneak away, who wouldn’t have if Tim had been able to make a coherent sentence. Jason hoped they’d gotten to the medbay and were able to figure out a way to save the others before it was too late.

As for Jason, well. He was just now waking up in one of Ra’s’ bases, who knows where, broken ribs on one side and nasty cuts all over. Possibly a concussion too, Jason amended. He took stock of himself, disappointed but not surprised to find most of his equipment gone. No body armor, lockpicks, guns or knives anywhere, much to his discomfort. At least Ra’s couldn’t take away the All Blades, Jason thought wryly. 

Not long after he woke up in the cell, the doors opened. Two assassins stepped into his cell, ordering him to follow. Jason did so, grumbling in displeasure. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it out of there without his weapons. No, for now he needed to play along, gain some information. He needs to know what Ra’s plans are for Tim, and if he’d managed to capture anyone else during his adventure in Gotham. 

“If it isn’t the Red Hood,”Ra’s drawled when Jason came into view. He’d been led to an absolutely massive room, and much to Jason’s terror he caught sight of a green glowing pool not too far away. “I apologize, I was not quite prepared for you.”

Jason grinned,”Upset about Red Robin foiling your plans again?”

Ra’s didn’t take the bait, instead continued. “It is of no matter. Plans can always be changed.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t sure what Ra’s was playing at, but knew he wouldn’t like it one bit. Looking around, he noticed a few guards around the Lazarus Pits, but looked away to avoid the green glow in his vision. 

“You see, I had wanted Timothy to meet a special someone, and yet, I find myself thinking that you might be a better fit for my plans,”Ra’s said chillingly, tilting his head towards the Pits. 

Meet someone? Jason thought wildly, mind running through all the people closest to Ra’s. “I doubt Tim would be more willing to play your games than me,”Jason scowled. 

“And yet, he is the smarter of the bunch,”Ra’s sighed wistfully in a way that made Jason want to gag,”You see, years ago, around when Timothy was born, there was another child born that caught my attention,”Before Jason could ask where the fuck this story was going, the creepy bastard continued,”I had been surveilling the Bat, as I’m sure you’re aware, when I came across information of a woman leaving a certain Gala. I thought nothing of it at the time, but nine months later she’d given birth to a small child.”

Jason’s mind raced with the possibility of another of Bruce’s bio kids, Ra’s next words made him freeze up,”Imagine my surprise when the child was not of the Bats, but of the birds.” Ra’s dropped, and Jason could barely breathe. 

“You see, Miss Mary Parker had attended the gala and had a bit of a fling with the young Grayson. You know, young love is so fleeting, it was no wonder that the two were horribly intoxicated when they conceived the child. And yet, when her parents found out they had planned to use the child to blackmail billionaire Brucie Wayne.”

“For money?” Jason whispered, in complete shock that Dick had had a whole child as a teen, and the poor girl who was caught between such shitty options. And if the kid was already Tims age that meant Dick was only 16 at most when it happened. Jason felt sick. 

“Naturally, I couldn’t let the Bat become distracted with this matter, at least not yet,”Ra’s smirked, catching Jason’s eye. Jason didn’t even care if he was showing his emotions on his face, this shit was horrible. He hadn’t known Dick had… Jason shook his head. He had to figure out what Ra’s game was. Freak out could come later. “So I had her and her parents killed.”

“The baby went to Miss Parker’s brother and his wife for the time being. The boy was to grow up with his aunt and uncle until I had a use for him,”Ra’s said, beginning to let out a more sadistic grin. “All the more reason for you to be here, I suppose.”

“What do you mean?” Jason drawled carefully. None of this made sense to him, especially when he was still reeling from the shock of the whole thing. 

Ra’s tsked. “You had been changed by the pits, angry, destructive,”The assassin listed. “Imagine your family’s surprise when yet another family member has the same affliction.”

Jason blanched, watching as Ra’s made some sort of signal to a guard, who left the room. “You want to put the kid in the pits? And what, send him to kill his own dad?” 

Ra’s looked at him with a glint in his eye. “I assure you, I have much bigger plans for the boy. For starters, I can’t allow you to leave now that you know about the boy. I can’t imagine they’d cope well with the boy’s backstory, not to mention his current situation. I bet you’d understand quite well how badly that can go, hm?”

Jason gritted his teeth. “And what? You put the kid in the pits and hope he doesn’t go insane?  What’s your plan here, and why would you need me at all?”

Ra’s seemed in the mood to indulge him, and merely answered,”You’re merely here to witness the rebirth of Red Hood’s origin,”He grinned sickly, and Jason lunged for the man, only to be stopped by a total of four assassins holding him back. 

At the same time, the doors at the far wall opened to reveal a small form being dragged between other assassins. Jason watched with horror as he recognized it as a kid, no older than 15 and dressed in torn and bloody civilian clothes and familiar curls on dark brown hair in between the assassins. The kid didn’t move or react at all to being dragged towards the pits, and Jason wanted to rage and run and pull the kid to safety all at once. 

“Young Peter Parker was raised by his aunt and uncle, until his Uncle died by gunshot right in front of him. Quite the coincidence, no? That the Bat’s own parents succumbed to the same fate. Of course, when we retrieved him, his aunt was still protective of the boy, so she had to go as well,”Ra’s stated calmly, like he was talking about the weather. It only made Jason more angry. 

Jason tuned out everything else Ra’s was saying as he struggled, gritting his teeth and watching this poor teenager get stabbed through the chest with a sword and unceremoniously tossed into the pit of glowing green water. Jason couldn’t breathe as he stared at the pools of green, surface still moving from the splash the kid made. Ra’s was going to pay for this, Jason promised himself, over and over for what seemed like hours until a scrawny pale hand breached the surface frantically. 

Letting out a breath of relief and trepidation, Jason shouted at Ra’s as the small boy dragged himself out of the pool of green, coughing and sputtering. His arms were shaking from the strain of holding himself up as he retched onto the ground. Moments later, assassins grabbed hold of him again and he saw the boy go limp in their arms. Jason continued to shout at Ra’s until he was hoarse, not even comprehending what he was saying. 

The rest passed in a daze of anger and fear and past memories as Jason was tossed back in the room disguised as a cell. He paced, yelling and banging on his door. He just wanted to see the kid. Peter. Dick’s son. He needed to make sure the kid was alright, to tell him none of it was his fault, to make sure he wasn’t alone when he woke up. 

Jason sat against the wall with his head between his knees, trying to calm his breathing. He needed to think. If he could get out and get to Peter… He cursed, mind racing with all the stupid shit his family’s been put through and what they’d ended up putting this kid through. 

Jason just hoped the kid would be okay. If he knew his family, they’d make sure of it, one way or another. 

Chapter 3

#jason todd #you could know me #spider-man #batman #dc #dc crossover

[counttashtag]

Marinette Jor-El Wayne Ch 1

just cross posting a fic - https://archiveofourown.org/works/24869410/chapters/60167491

There are over 3000 known comets in our solar system, and scientists believe there to up to a billion total, but this comet was not one of them. How did Batman know this?

First of all because he is Batman, paranoia comes with the cowl.

Second because he has been watching the incoming meteorites approach for the better part of a week. At first it was simply just for the interest of Dick, his young ward, after the bat computer first alerted them to the incoming shower. Then Dick used the bat computer hack a satellite for pictures.

Bruce wasn’t entirely sure whether this behaviour deserved punishment or not. Dick managed to get away unscathed as Bruce notice that one of the poorly imaged comments had no tail. Red flags were raised by that.

Piece of rock hurdling through space were supposed to break down and leave an iconic tail behind. This had started the relatively short-lived crusade of comet chasing. It had peaked the Bat’s interest even further when the tailless meteorite would be flying over Gotham, the concern being that the meteor could actually cause his city damage. Another sleepless night showed that no, none of the comets would not crush in the city nor land just within their city limits, read territory, enough to warrant investigation of anything that could potential survive the harshness of impact with the earth’s surface.

That was precisely how Batman found himself looking through binoculars for shooting stars dancing across the sky with his sidekick Robin hopping excitedly from foot to foot beside him. In broad daylight. Yeah Batman didn’t do daylight, but the aforementioned paranoia didn’t do sleep either apparently.

Alfred was back at the cave assuring the young boy.

‘Yes, it is exciting Master Dick’, ‘No I don’t believe they be quite like fireworks Master Dick’ and the reoccurring ‘It is a meteor not a space craft Master Dick, there will not be any aliens Master Dick’.

Bruce had honestly tunned it out some time ago standing vigilante atop the edge of his city.

Dick was in the middle of another comment about not being able to prove alien didn’t exist when it started. Crimson and amber streak burning across the already bright sky.

A quick glanced showed Bruce that Dick stood amazed at the sight, wholly captivated by the bright flashes. Soon too was the stoic Batman ensnared by the splendour.

So ensnared that he almost missed the one tailless meteor swerve. Keyword almost. The Batman snapped out of his stupor immediately, falling to the batmobile park on the streets below. Waiting only until Robin drops into the seat beside him to case after the prized object.

Of course, the comet had the advantage of speed as even the batmobile could not reach the awesome speed of 60km/s. They also had the disadvantage of having no idea where the comet was headed, past the cardinal point.

The drive to the crash site was silent both vigilantes silently puzzling out the situation.

Bruce was trying to figure out what had caused the meteorite to change course and land several kilometres within the city limits.

Dick was trying to figure out how to speak with the potential alien who would probably not know Romani any better than English.

The crash site itself held more questions then answers. They had lost sight of the comet some time ago, but Alfred had traced its impact point to an old non-developed farming area just on the edge of Gotham.

They arrived to see a still mostly intact field. The only proof of the abnormal was a streak thought the grass, of a fire burned out, leading to a charred object in the centre of the field.

Leaving the bat car unattended for the second time that night, the vigilantes did the much-warned action of walking towards the strange object recently fallen from the sky.

Certain details became clearer on their approach;

Firstly, the object, they were pretty sure it wasn’t a normal comet at this point, had ‘survived’ the crash, though it seemed as the thing had nearly been torn in two. Secondly, the whole thing seemed smooth, very much unlike the uneven chunk of rock they were expecting. Third, it was metal, maybe, Batman wasn’t sure, a rare occurrence for the man.

“Cool, spaceship”, spoke Dick breaking the silence as he marvelled at the object, keeping distance only because the heat radiating to his face was already making him sweat at the distance he was at already.

Fourth, the object quite literally had no better description, it was all too alien.

A whimper brought the two males from their outlandish thoughts, thoughts becoming all far too plausible.

A gloved hand reached out attentively to touch to pod. The Bat recoiled at the heat and Dick at his soft hiss of pain.

Whatever mechanics had survived the crash whirred into motion.

Batman being the taller of the two, Dick only turned 13 a few months ago, leaned over the . . . capsule as he identified it to be. Nothing could have possible prepared him for what he saw.

A child, perhaps 2, lay bundled in a deep red blanket. Her dark hair surprisingly tame from her journey. Her eyes remained closed as she whimpered again, curling further in on herself in the process.

Bruce’s heart broke for the girl in that moment. A curious Dick had peaked from up on his toes.

“Can we keep her!?”

#dc batman #fanfic #maribat #ao3 fanfic #Kryptonian Marinette

[luvly-writer]

“But oh..cara mia”

Ch. 1: So what did i miss?

———————————————————

Dick Grayson x Latina! Reader

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: none

Author’s Note: Seeing as “You are my sunshine” is ending, I published the first chapter to get you guys as excited as I am for this story.  Warnings, in this story, heavy amounts of character trauma will be discussed. Therefore, heavy amounts of angst will be shown. Worry not though, fluff and feels will also be a part of it. Enjoy the first chapter and if you’d like to be part of the tag list, don’t be afraid to send me an ask, reply on the chapters, or send me a message. Feedback is always positively welcomed and loved. Love you all!

Taglist:  @lorosette @nanas-teatime @prettyacademia00

Series Masterlist:

———————————————————

It had been a quiet night on patrol. Nothing big had happened, just a few thugs here and there. Everyone had retired for the night and decided to crash at Wayne Manor. First arrived Babs, Steph, and Cass, they had been the group closest to the manor. Then came, Tim, Jason, and Duke. Dick, Damian, and Bruce arrived last.  They had all entered and headed directly to the changing rooms, too busy with the chatter and banter to even pay attention to the batcomputer.  Funny enough, for a group of vigilantes and the world’s greatest detectives, no one noticed the figure next to Alfred, smirking at them from the seat of the batcomputer. “They really are hopeless sometimes” the young girl laughed at Alfred who nodded along with a soft smile. Finally, everyone had returned and noticed someone had been sitting waiting for them. 

“Well, i’ll be fucking dammned,” said Jason with a laugh as the girl jogged towards them. “Hello strangers!” she giggled as Cass, Stephanie and Barbara went to hug her. Next was Tim and Jason who couldn’t help but tease her for leaving them for two whole years. Duke then smiled as the young girl jumped in his arms and hugged him tightly whilst screaming that God-awful nickname she knew he hated but secretly loved, “Duckie!” Finally, she turned to the last three, first giving a hug to Bruce, the man who had come to love her as one of his own. Then she turned to Dick, and Damian swore the cave turned tense for a second. He looked at both of them, who were standing face to face, looking at each other dead in the eye. Damian looked around, confused at the anxious faces of everyone around. Even his father was looking at them wearily. “Richard,” she said dryly, to which her counterpart responded just as drily with a nod, “YN”. They kept eye contact for a few moments and when she broke it off to look at Damian, everyone let out a sigh of relief. “Bruce! YOU GOT ANOTHER ONE!” she said looking at him bewildered. She turns to the man and says, “Ok, that’s it, you definitely have a problem, Bruce. You can’t keep exchanging therapy for adopting orphans. I thought we were past that!” making the rest laugh. It wasn’t Yn if she isn’t berating Bruce on something. Bruce at least had the decency to look bashful and Damian spoke up before he could open his mouth, “I am not an orphan, I’m his son. THE blood son”. Yn eyes widened and she looked at Bruce who confirmed his claims. “I leave for two years and come back to find you have a biological kid! Bruce! You could have at least sent an email of precaution!” she says and Bruce shoots back, “I would have if you hadn’t been traveling constantly or in Themyscira” to which the girl smiled bashfully. “You said I needed a break, so I took it.” making the rest laugh. It was good to have her back. Before long, they had migrated to one of the living rooms where she told them all about her adventures and gave them little souvenirs. Throughout this entire time, Damian observed her carefully. She was open with everyone else, yet guarded with Grayson. There were times he would find them looking at each other when the other wasn’t paying attention. A strange fondness could be found in their eyes.

Finally, everyone started to retire to their bedrooms, but before he did, Yn called him out. They were left alone in the living room, with Damian looking at her curiously. “Heard you are half Arab,” she said looking at him softly. She was kind, that he could tell. “He answered quickly, wanting to know what she wanted from him, “Yes, I was raised at the League of Assasins by my mother and Grandfather.” She nodded, “Ras Al Ghul and Talia Al Ghul, damn, another traumatized kid to the bunch. How’d that happen with B?” she said not expecting an answer but Damian cleared it up for her, “She drugged him. Doesn’t take a genius to know it”. She hummed in response and pulled something out of her bag. It was an elephant figurine, beautiful in all aspects. It was jade with golden accents. Truly a remarkable piece. She extended her hand towards him and presented it to him. “Here, a small present. As a welcome to the family. I got it when I visited Arabia. Elephants are my favorite animals, thought you’d like it,” she said and smiled when he took it. He felt a warm sensation in his chest, one he wasn’t used to. Giving her a nod, he thanked her and left for his room. She could see the small smile he was trying to suppress. Once in his room, Damian placed the figurine on his bedside table. Admiring it a little, his thoughts were full of the observations he made of today. Yn Ln. First, he identified what was known. Everyone in the family seemed to be quite fond of her except Grayson, which was out of character seeing as he was normally the warmest. She was kind, and he would understand the fondness of everyone else. She seemed to know all of them quite well, meaning her presence in the family must go way back. And finally, things between Grayson and her were NOT good. Now to what he didn’t know. What exactly was her part in this family? Why does she have such influence over everyone? And his biggest doubt, what the hell happened between Grayson and her that caused everyone to tense up at a mere staredown between the two. That night, as he went to sleep, he assigned himself a new mission. Find out who is Yn Ln and what went wrong between her and Grayson. 

#batfam #batfamily #batman #tim drake #cassandra cain #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x latina! reader #nightwing #nightwing x y/n #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #dc robin #robin x reader #robin x y/n #robin x you #dc nightwing #dc batman #dc universe #dc dick grayson #dc x reader #barbara gordon

[hailkingphantom]

Dp x dc

Gremlin of caos

Batman was in a case, in a strange case

People of all the world starting see a unknow figure what always let caos where ever is saw.

He begun collecting news.

'Superman chase a unknow entity who steal the golden globe and use it as a ball'

'A giant green dog is sight wander in Star City'

'A unknow entity is sight in the cameras of the zoo'

'Misterious dissaparition of chickens'

'Unknow entity write "you'll never catch me flying furrys" in the principal office of WE'

He broke his cup.

"Moderate, master bruce"

"Sorry Alfred, this case is estressing me more than should" and that entity was annoying

Then he hear a 'crack'

"Danny, auch-ch, okay sorry i won't do it again!" a young female voice said

"You said that before and here we are!" Another young voice said, male this time

"This time will be different! So just let go my ear off!" Said the girl, pushing away the other kid who sigh

"What were you planning ?" The boy asks raising a brow

"Just a little prank, I was going to let some real bats in the batcave and paint there 'We are for our dad', apart you like pranks too why are you so mad?! "

" First, you were in international news and let me handle Jazz alone. ALONE. Second, YOU WERE GOING TO PRANK BATMAN WITHOUT ME!" The boy yell, the girl look at the boy and apologise before dissapear of the sight.

If he found Damian claiming parental rights above some little bats after, well, at least he know where they come from

#danny phantom #dp x dc #bruce wayne #damian wayne #danielle