Family Dinners - dpxdc
"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.
The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.
"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.
"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.
"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."
"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."
Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.
Ancients, that's so weird!
The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.
Wait. Family dinners?
He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.
"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.
"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.
From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.
"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"
"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"
"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."
"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."
The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.
Come on, Danny, recover!
"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."
"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?
"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."
"Costume? What do you mean?"
Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.
"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!
"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.
"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.
His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.
"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.
Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.
"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"
"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"
"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."
"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.
It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.
It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.
Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.
"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."
Once again, the whole table falls into silence.
"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"
"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"
"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."
Danny's grin freezes in place.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."
"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"
Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.
"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.
"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."
An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.
"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.
"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."
"What did happen?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."
"How long in the future was it?"
"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.
Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"
"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."
"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."
"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"
"What?"
"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."
Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.
"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.
"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."
"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"
"Damian, stop—"
"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."
"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."
"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.
"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."
"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."
"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."
"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."
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You thought this motherfucker couldn’t get any worse? Think again, bitch.
YANDERE! WHITNEY
asher is at it again.
I promise I’d do it and im not one to break promises. You already know how it goes.
cw! dub-con/non-con, mentions of violence and murder, stalking, kidnapping, blood, typical yandere shit, whitney is warning enough on its own.
whitney and pc are gender neutral as always unless explicitly stated otherwise
“I’m going to fuck you. Right here. Everyone will see and know you’re mine.”
yandere type : sadistic, possessive, impulsive, violent
Purposefully irritates you in every way possible that they can, demanding for your attention. Nudging at your knees beneath the desk, blowing in your ear, elbows knocking against each other. Cmon, you must find them annoying now, right? Good. That’s what Whitney wants, ingraining themselves right into your mind, doesn’t matter how, they’re making sure you’re looking their way always.
Constantly stalks around the school gates, back casually pressed against the wall with their cronies surrounding them, eyes flitting back and forth as if they’re not waiting for you. It’s not like that really, muscled frame hidden in the shadows as they expect your arrival, in the alleyways near the orphanage. It’s just a coincidence that your encounters with the bully are getting increasingly frequent, running into them every single time, finding yourself on your knees once more. Must be faith as they call it, huh? Or whatever cheesy bullshit reason there is for that.
As I’ve stated before, they’re forcing a collar around your neck and no, you don’t get to take it off, bitch. What? Why do you feel all warm and tingly all of a sudden? Whoops, forgot to mention that it’s not just any regular collar, it’s a shock collar. Of course, the bully isn’t letting you prance around like a slut whenever you want, you gotta work for it too. Huge grin on their face as they watch the way you squirm on your chair in class, breath all shaky and heavy, squeezing your thighs together under the table in attempt to ease the shockwaves coursing through your body. Need to say the magic word if you wanna cum : “I’m yours, Whitney.”
Fucking you in public takes on a whole new different meaning. They need to show off who you really belong to after all, but the delinquent is in a dilemma. Can’t have any filthy bitch or bastard’s eyes on your naked form, can they? Having to restrain themselves from gauging the spectators eyes out. Well, the solution is simple, they’re fucking you/getting fucked by you regardless. On the park bench, bent over the desk in math class, hell, even in Robin’s goddamn bed, makes the orphan watch too. Only difference is they’re beating the living shit out of anyone who got the slightest glimpse of your bare skin right after. Oh, and no tapes or recordings allowed, only Whitney gets to keep that sight of you to themselves.
Needs you to be near them at all times. Oh, you got an English class to catch to with the freak this morning? That’s too bad, you’re skipping with them, whore. Firm arm wrapped around your shoulder, dragging you to god knows where, probably some cheap pub to fuck and flaunt their slut in front of everyone ‘watching’. Forcing you to stay by their side 24/7, bodies pressed unnecessarily close together, hot breath down your neck. Ignore the twirling of your hair between their fingers, they just like having you close by..
Insists on lending you their clothes, no, scratch that. They’re demanding you to wear it. Whose jacket is that? Oh, it’s Whitney’s. And that scarf? Whitney’s again. Marking you with their smell, familiar scent of vanilla and cigarettes subtly filling up your lungs, getting you all light-headed. Wants you to think of them whenever you wear it, small smirk playing on their lips as you begrudgingly give it back when they ask for it, visible flush on your cheeks. Filthy slut, you touched yourself to them while sniffing at that jacket, didn’t you? That’s what they want, get you all riled up from their presence alone. Classic Pavlovian conditioning.
Student looks your way a few too many times in class? Don’t ask around as to why they’re not there the next day, probably huddled in bed at the hospital or even worse, six feet under the dirt you use to plant your flowers with. Won’t hesitate to make a scene either if they’re feeling a little too hot-headed, grasping at that motherfucker’s collar who even dared to steal a second glance at your behind while you were standing right next to Whitney themselves. Will drag you to the bathroom after that, claiming they need to vent. Now they’re taking it out on you, your soft gasps and moans slowly filling up the confined space as they fuck you raw with their cock/strap-on.
“Only I get to kidnap you.. Got it?” Yeah? You thought that line was a joke? Stupid slut, don’t get too surprised once they corner you in an alleyway one day, snarling about how this is your fault, for being too slutty and tempting, ‘forced’ to do this, they say. Shoving a damp cloth to your face, consciousness fading only to awaken and find yourself chained up to the bully’s bed. Whitney isn’t one to kid around, they mean every goddamn word they say and this is no different. Gentle hand placed atop your head, comfortably settled between their thighs and sucking away as they lean back against the headboard. Favorite part of their day is coming back to you, their personal sex toy that the delinquent can seek out whenever they want to if they’re feeling a little pent-up.
Fighting back too? You’re just egging them on, aren’t you? Doing this on purpose, huh? Stupid little face that they wanna fuck dumb, all bruised up from their punches and kicks. Shit, don’t you know how hard/wet it gets them to see you like this? Next thing you know, Whitney’s tackling you to the ground, breath hot and heavy against the shell of your ear, arousal soaking right through the fabric of their jeans/skirt. Ruffled blond strands of hair messily falling over their face, eyeing your frame beneath them with hunger and pink tongue darting out to lick away at the bloodied mess you left on their knuckles. Fuck, you’re in for it now, slut.
Coming up next, Yandere! Harper, the silly little doctor that cums all over your fucking face while you’re under anesthesia!
I mean, let’s say, hypothetically speaking if some hot blonde chick who happened to be my bully suddenly kidnapped me and tied me up in her basement, forced me to be her sex slave, turned me into her personal dildo — I would not be complai—
[END OF POST]
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Will the most beloved headcanons part 3: Byler edition! (AKA Mike being a simp headcanons)
Mike doesn’t like people touching his face. Like he’ll nope away from someone just trying to poke his cheek. But with Will? Complete opposite. Will can pinch his cheeks, trace his jaw, feel his forehead for fever - anything and everything
Same goes for hair touching, too. Nobody gets to play with his hair but Will
Mike is particular about his D&D character design and he only accepts changes or suggestions from Will
Mike likes to trade Halloween candy with Will and Will only (because Dustin, Lucas, Max, and El are quite judicial about trading candy lmao)
Mike sits still for nothing except when Will is painting him
When Mike gets his driver’s license, Will is his passenger princess for life and no one else can even dare to dream of taking shotgun
Similarly, when it’s raining, only Will gets to share umbrella space with him (like, come on, Dustin and Lucas can just deal with it)
Will is Mike’s dedicated beta reader for his novels
On that note, Will is the only other soul who’s seen all of Mike’s self-proclaimed embarrassing short stories and Star Wars fanfics
Also on that note, Mike only writes poetry for Will (duh)
Mike hates carrying big heavy things but when he and Will move into their place together, you better believe he did all the heavy lifting and made sure that Will didn’t to avoid Will getting hurt (even at the expense of himself, rip)
Okay so I headcanon that both Mike and Will are afraid of stray bugs in the house, but Mike will step up and kill or evacuate bugs for Will anyway
Mike thinks that sitting on someone’s lap? Someone sitting on his lap? Way too much body heat, way too close for comfort, get off me, dude. But he and Will splay over each other all the time because it’s Will, and Will is cozy :)
Similarly, doing footsies is so stupid. But with Will it’s adorable and Mike’s a giggly mess
Random but Mike only likes how Will makes eggs out of everyone in the Party (and he won’t eat it if it’s not Will’s lmao)
Now, Mike does readily lend things - paper, pencils, erasers - to other people in class, but he’s not too keen on it. But if Will needs something? He’s giving it with a bona fide smile
Mike also sometimes doesn’t like lending his time for that matter. Trying to help people with homework is exhausting, especially after being a tutor for Holly sometimes but if Will’s struggling with some homework Mike may as well have his doctorate in education
Mike thinks that it’s funny if someone has food on their face and he might not mention it but for Will he’ll go out of his way to remove it
Over the years of being together, Will has learned to beware mentioning that he likes or wants something, because Mike is buying/obtaining it plus a million different versions and styles
Mike doesn’t like singing or playing guitar in front of anyone but he’ll make an exception…
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