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nat-ter · 3 months

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superbat fic idea: Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are dating. Superman and Batman are teammates.

The first time Clark Kent joins the Wayne's for dinner, Bruce's kids realise that Clark Kent is Superman. Surely if they can immediately figure out Superman's civillian identity, World's Greatest Detective probably already did too. It makes sense, Bruce has always talked about Superman this and Superman that so they knew he definitely has a crush on the hero, and it's good that he seems to get his act together and ask Clark out. If anything, the kids are happy for him. And if Bruce knew Clark is Superman, surely he would've already revealed his own alter ego too. The whole "meet the family" was probably also Bruce's way of testing his kids, to see if their extensive training paid off and could see what is right in front of them.

Except. World's Greatest Detective, Batman, The Dark Knight himself, is in the dark about his boyfriend's superhero life. And Clark Kent, investigative journalist with superpowers and supersenses, has no idea he's dating Batman. But far be it from Bruce's kids to ever question the intelligence of Batman or by extension, Superman.

Cue, the Batkids acting overly familiar with Superman much to Superman's confusion; Bruce's children sharing what is supposed to be an inside joke with Clark when Batman or Superman happens to come up in a conversation even though Clark doesn't look like he gets the joke; Batkids greeting Clark Kent like an old pal when he happens to be in a Gotham crime scene; Bruce's children calling for Superman when they need him to do something, which is usually really mundane like "Superman! Superman! I got my baseball stuck on the roof can you please come and take it for me?", but Superman always does come because these are his boyfriend's kids of course he'd do anything for them even if they don't know that Superman is Clark Kent.

Even though they find it weird that Bruce talks as if Clark and Superman are two different people, they just chalk it up to Bruce being Bruce and refusing to mix Batman's business and Bruce Wayne's. And if Bruce refuses to mix their personal life with their professional life, then there's nothing Clark can do but follow Bruce's steps because Bruce is a control freak and Clark seems to be completely smitten with Bruce. Right? It makes perfect sense.

(And Bruce is perplexed. On one hand, his kids seem to adore Clark whenever the man comes over, or even when he doesn't, they would ask about him— Is he coming over this weekend? Can they visit his parents' farm? But on the other, his kids seem to try and set him up with Superman too, if the jokes and innuendos they make were any indication. Should Bruce talk to his kids? Tell them he's serious with Clark? But shouldn't they already know that he is? Is this their way of showing their dislike for Clark? But what is there not to love about Clark? Bruce ended up brooding a lot these days.)

#superbat #superbat fic idea #oh and #i almost forgot:#manman #i just LOVE misunderstanding #and identity reveal #so why not combine both?#ofc alfred knows the truth but he's a little shit (we all know he is)#and decides to let the young ones figure out their own shits #batkids #batfam #superbat fic ideas

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faeriekit · 10 months

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Health and Hybrids (III)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here and this is Part Three 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Boy had a break down, stole a medical cot, took a nap. Bone Appetite. Oh yeah and maybe he made a friend. Maybe

Trigger warnings for: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Sleeping in a puddle of your own fluids gets really gross after a while.

Danny grumbles quietly. Ew. It’s all…blood and plasma and goo and ectoplasm and various other nasty body liquids he doesn’t actually want to identify.

Gross. He’s soaked the mattress some too.

And he wants food. He can feel the empty cavern where his stomach ought to be rumble with wantwantwantwant. It makes his core whine—when his body is too damaged to be human, sometimes it treats itself as if being human is his obsession. He wants, because having human food and water and safety will make him more human again.

…Maybe he can snatch another one of those NastyRibs today. They’ve got meat. Protein.

Danny’s tail lashes as he considers going to the cafeteria again. But what if he gets lost? And loses his cot? It’s a nice cot. Much better than dirt and far superior to the container.

Maybe it is just smarter to go to sleep again? The more he explores, the more likely it is for someone to see him. To find him. To put him back in the container.

Danny presses closer to the cot mattress, his fluids squelching up around him. And what if the one thing finds him?! The thing he couldn’t bite?? That’s not safe! He can’t get picked up by it again! He can’t fight back! What if it crushes his core??

His curtain pulls back with a sharp skkkhsk of metal rings on metal bars. Danny bares his teeth and hisses, and—

—Oh. It’s the buzzing human again. Danny slowly lets his damaged muscles relax. It purrs in a language Danny can’t hear (did he lose his tiny ear bones??) very quickly and very pleased as it chats about something. Whatever. It’s not a threat and it’s a good distraction. Danny rolls onto his side so he can watch.

It makes a sad noise. Danny perks up. Why is it sad? Why would it—? BAGEL! Actually it doesn’t matter why the human is sad because it gives him a bagel. With cream cheese. Untoasted!!

Carbs go down sooooo smoothly. He doesn’t even get any crumbs stuck between his mostly-present teeth. It’s good. So good.

The buzzing human buzzes away, leaving Danny in a cloud of agitated air and a vague sense of concern. Concern? Did something happen?

The immature human voices come back. Danny perks up. They sound familiar, but they lack the vibrational quality of the buzzy human. It will be harder to tell what they want and where they are.

A face pokes past the curtain. Danny’s sight is too poor. He can’t recognize it. He hisses.

The buzzing child slides back in with a hvmmmmvm to put itself between Danny and the new face. Good. Bad, if the human gets hurt, but good that it doesn’t want Danny to get hurt either.

The new face doesn’t attack them either. It makes a long, drawn-out noise that Danny is mostly sure is a complaint or three, but the buzzing kid hops around, free and light, and zips off and zips back.

Danny peeks from under his arm.

Oooh. The new human has clean blankets. He does want those. Maybe they’ll sop up the fluids he’s sitting in. Now…will they offer them? Will Danny have to fight them for it?

His tail flickers. If they’re more like ghosts, he’ll have to fight. Danny doesn’t want to. They’re young humans. He might injure them without realizing. But he really wants those sheets. Maybe he could steal them very quickly…?

Danny doesn’t have much time to wonder though because he is snatched off the mattress??

He almost bites the buzzing human before he recognizes the buzzingbuzzingbuzzing under the skin of the human holding him in its grip. Why is he being held?! Is this a threat??

Is he going back to the container??

There are more young humans here suddenly, taking his bed and—hey! Taking his cot! They pull off the mattress, drag it off somewhere, and Danny won’t bite but he will phase through the arms of the small human and leave.

So he does.

It’s not comfortable to find another empty conference room and to hide there. But young humans are impatient.

They’ll leave Danny alone.

…eventually.

For now, though he’ll just hide his core under the table. It’s scratchy carpeting and hard wood on his sensitive core and he’s cranky and tired and he misses his cot.

If that red and blue thing tries to pick him up again, he’s going to bite him.

The hand that wakes him up is not the blue and red human this time.

Danny thinks it is, at first, and bites it as soon as he reforms. But this human yells and drops him, so it is not! Fantastic. Danny slides through the wall—

—And the human tugs him back into the conference room by his tail. Hello?! What?? Ow??????

Danny barely has time to bare his teeth before the whole world is spinning and moving fastfastfast and—

He plops onto his cot. Or. Danny is plopped onto his cot. He’s. On his cot?

The hell?

It’s. Danny sniffs. Pokes the mattress. There are new sheets on it. One layer underneath feels bouncy and tense, like it’s rubberized. But it’s his cot. Undoubtedly. It still sort of smells like all his juices rotting.

The buzzing human zips into the curtain that hides Danny’s cot. It and the new adult human start arguing. And then the adult starts buzzing.

Danny’s back is all tense and he doesn’t understand. Weird. Weird. Weird. Weeeird.

The adult goes away. Then Danny’s left with the younger buzzing human, and three strangers.

They’re so blurry. At least the humans that vibrate endlessly are red. The rest are a random mystery to him—splotches of warm reds and yellows on black, which is just dark enough to screw with his recently lacking depth perception. Fantastic.

Danny presses his face into the pillow.

His more-familiar-human buzzes off and is back in a flash—this time with a half-dozen different fancy breads.

They smell nice.

They look nice. Probably. Danny inches closer. There’s some spots of red, of blue. There’s probably fruits in them. Sugars, carbs—if there’s a lot of oils in them, that’s good for fats as well. Danny really needs the extra calories at the moment.

He almost goes for them. He does. But he doesn’t want to encourage that stupid picking-him-up behavior, so he leaves them be and pretends they’re not there, in the hopes that the young humans go away before he starts showing off his teeth about it.

The red human inches closer, and makes cunning little Don’t You Want It? noises. Danny’s neither a baby nor an idiot. He keeps a narrowed, half-formed eye out.

The buzzy human buzzes closer.

Danny stretches out his claws. A little twitch of pain and they solidify nice and sharp in the yellow light.

The buzzing human wisely takes a step back. And leaves the breads on the end of the cot.

Smart.

Danny doesn’t touch them until all four humans are long gone, their voices lost to the base. After that, though? Each pastry is gone in one bite.

Danny makes himself invisible, wishes for darkness, and he rests.

There’s more food on the end of his cot when Danny wakes up the next morning.

Granola bars. Dried fruits.

…Oatmeal.

It takes forever and makes his back and tail ache like crazy, but Danny swaps his cot with one of the other little cots in this large, medical wing. His aura flares in the hopes that he’ll cut out cameras, but who knows if it will actually works.

Of course, it would work on another ghost, hopefully, and warn them to Stay Away! I’m mean! if they wandered into his territory. But otherwise, who knows? Maybe Danny’s too sick to actually be scary.

Danny sleeps behind a new curtain that night.

He doesn’t like that things that remind him of the container are chasing him.

The red human buzzzzes back into his old cot space the next day. When it sees that Danny is gone, it cries.

Danny carefully makes himself invisible. Just in case.

The human buzzzzzes away and doesn’t come back for a moment, until it does, bringing back one of the darker human-shaped blobs. One talks, and then the other, their voices as chattery and annoying as when birds get upset with other birds.

More whining. More noise.

Danny rolls over, puts the pillow over his head, and pretends he doesn’t exist.

He doesn’t hear any footsteps. He doesn’t see the curtain jiggle. Danny thinks he sees feet poking out from behind his curtain, just the once, but he doesn’t—

Something touches his invisible form. Danny flinches back into visibility, and—shit. Shit. Shit. They’re touching him. They’re touching him on purpose.

He tries to go intangible. The hands slip through him, but it’s not enough; they know he’s hiding here now, and now something is going to come get him.

A hand brushes his core. Danny whines.

The hand. Stops. Pulls back. Something— it’s flesh-colored and soft and is held out for Danny to investigate.

Brown-black tears plop out of Danny’s sockets without warning.

…Oh. It’s a band-aid.

It’s. It’s so simple in its familiarity. It’s soft. It’s rubbery between his fingers. The little paper peel. The—its—

…It’s probably fine. If. If they’re bringing him a band-aid.

Everything still hurts, but the background ache is easiest to bear when he sleeps it off, hour after hour of praying his body knits itself back together. He tries not to think about the things he’s lost. The physical, tangible flesh he’s lost. The brain matter. The organs. The…hopefully he hasn’t lost a limb, but he has a feeling chancing a transformation to look isn’t going to go well for his overall health and wellbeing.

Danny’s core keens. He wants Frostbite. He wants Mom and Dad. He wants Jazz. He wants someone to put him into a safe bed with ice packs and to bring him soft foods and to lay beside his core and purr and he wants someone to take care of him.

He wants someone to take care of him.

Danny needs someone to take care of him so badly.

…Danny drops his intangibility. Some of his body becomes borderline corporeal, even. He has no idea what he looks like or how bad the damage is exactly, but he hears a muffled gasp and an acute intensification in the buzzing, sharp and high and scared.

That’s not a proud, smug response. That’s not a mean, gleeful response.

Okay.

Maybe…Maybe Danny is actually safe here. Maybe this won’t hurt too.

Danny doesn’t remember everything, but he does end his session slathered in clear cream, wrapped in cloth bandages as well as two young humans can manage, and with a band-aid stuck against some cavernous hole in his forehead.

He’s even awarded a blueberry muffin for his bravery.

(Good for him.)

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