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#tim: yeah in your eyes
icarrymany · 1 day
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the mh comics open up such an interesting narrative for our few surviving characters. to them, what happened in the videos was real, but to everyone else its a cool creative web series. when all of that is viewed as fiction, fans have a freedom to speculate about and invade the lives and privacy of real people. and that would be so uncomfortable and terrifying. imagine someone irl having headcanons about YOU. writing fan fiction about you and your real friends. assuming things about you PUBLICLY ! IN MASS!
wouldnt it be so cool to see a character grapple with that in like a self-reflective way? fans asking questions the muse is too afraid to ask themselves. of course, theyre the only person the answer matters to.
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ragnarokhound · 5 months
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I’ve already left a comment on intricate rituals, but I just realized I forgot an important part. Having experience with toys but not other people is such a fun solution. My fave. Yes he can take it (yes you will be the first). The possessiveness of it all!!
But also from author’s perspective being like. Nah I don’t wanna deal with That. Absolutely valid <3
-🦇🐺
wAUGH THANK YOU!! <33
frank discussion about sex & the porny bits of my fic that got. really long somehow? below:
Hehehe yes - when I was writing, I hadn't necessarily intended that to be read as 'Tim's never bottomed before', but I realized belatedly that even if he's bottomed in the past, he certainly hasn't ever bottomed for an alpha >:3c
a lot of Jason's 'we don't have to, babe 🥺' came from anxiety about pushing for too much too fast as much as it came from the practical sentiment of 'knots are a lot to handle when ur body isn't made to take them' lmao
(because, well. look at his behavior for the entire fic, the boy spent six months gently boiling the frog of their relationship. the kind of wretched anxiety that spawns that behavior doesn't go away after one lousy love confession OTL TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE)
And Jason's been all up in Tim's business, so he KNOWS Tim hasn't been having a lot of sex because uh. He'd be able to smell it for one fjdslafjs and Tim would probably tell him about it for two fdjlafjk they talk about everything ugh they're soooo married in this fic it's disgusting lol
but like! Tim's never been with an alpha before!! of course he's never taken a real knot!! Jason would be the first OwO And it was one more way to shove another possessive omegaverse trope about Jason being jealous over Tim without it actually being awful fufufu
Hearing that Tim would be able to take his knot gave Jason extreme whiplash from 'wait what, how would you know that, who's been touCHING YOU' to 'holy fuck you've been prepping yourself? for me? that's so hot' and I am very here for any opportunity to indulge in possessive tropes with mostly just sexy consequences, especially with these two ;)
On another note, I genuinely think toys are great for testing out what you like, without fear of judgement and without worrying about 'doing well' or whatever. You can focus on yourself! You can see what works for you! You can discover your size kink-
- or lack thereof without it being tangled in complicated feelings or anxieties.
I looove the image of control freak Timothy Drake figuring himself out with toys once he knows that's an option (though imo he also doesn't give a fuck about what other people think enough that he'd be fine exploring with another person djslfa but i digress) and I love the image of control freak Timothy Drake wanting to experiment specifically with his partners to figure out all the ways they experience pleasure @_@ he wants to know how they're compatible, and he wants to know what makes them tick!!
*COUGH* anyway thank you!! I'm so glad you enjoyed the fic, and that you enjoyed that part specifically <33!!
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Dry Your Eyes AU 2?
literally no one is having a good time for most of this one. it's four and a half kids (because one is overseas on a little Grief World Tour) trying to figure out how to function as a family when the one person who MADE them a family is gone. and also the youngest child might be trying to murder the middle child. which does not make things any easier for anyone. there are... a LOT of insecurities dealt with in this one. I think everyone gets their Distinct Insecurity Moment, actually. for Tim it's the feeling that he's not wanted, for Jason it's thinking he's not cut out for either Batman stuff OR sibling stuff, for Damian it's the carefully guarded terror that he has to fight for his place in the family, and Dick's struggle is feeling like he has to raise someone else's kid and also function as an older brother to the other two (and a half; Cass is practicing AvoidanceTM half a world away. there might be another fic in this AU focusing on her, idk yet) and fearing that he's entirely inadequate at all of it. so yeah. hot mess of a family but they're figuring it out.
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risuola · 5 months
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I — NOT YET — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN, who is a mob boss
When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.
cw: smut, mafia mob!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words
a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.
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Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm. Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.
“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.
“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.
“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.
“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.
“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.
Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.
“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.
“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.
“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.
You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.
Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.
“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.
“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.
“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”
“Y/n,” you replied.
“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”
“Sure…”
At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.
The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.
In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.
He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.
“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.
“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”
“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.
“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”
Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.
Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.
“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”
“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.
“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.
“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.
“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.
You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.
“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.
“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”
“Yes.”
“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”
You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.
“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s get you naked.”
» PART TWO
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
“Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
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orionremastered · 3 months
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could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep
this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have
Masterlist
Oblivious
Dick Grayson
The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.
Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.
"What are you doing here?"
The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Where is he?"
You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.
"He's grocery shopping."
"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.
Jason Todd
A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.
You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.
"What are you doing in my house?"
The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.
"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."
"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."
Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.
Tim Drake
Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.
After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.
You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.
The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.
In your bathroom.
"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"
"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.
"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."
"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."
"You never told me that," you say.
"It's a recent thing. Sorry."
You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.
Damian Wayne
"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."
Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.
When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.
You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.
Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.
"Oh. Oh."
It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.
It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.
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radicallxser · 3 months
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"Careful", you snag the boy's shirt before he can step into the road. The boy's head snaps away from his phone and towards you.
He looks pissed but you watch his face shift into a blank sort of stare.
"Sorry-", you release the grip on his shirt, shifting the carrier on your hip, "you should pay more attention when you're this close to the road."
You offer him a weak smile and he blinks up at you, then turns and scurries across the road, focused back onto his phone. Sighing, you adjust baby carrier and begin walking again.
The walk isn't a horrible one, ten minutes is nothing on the half hour walk it takes you to get to work. It's just a little more difficult with a awkward sized baby carrier.
Typically you'd take the train, but you need to get to the grocery store before it gets dark. The air is already chilly but the forecast calls for snow and the baby doesn't need that.
-
The store is a little warmer when you step inside and you even manage to snag a buggy.
The store is relatively quiet and you find what you need to...except for the box of baby rice towards the back on a shelf you can't reach.
You groan softly, glancing at the snoozing babe. She loves those...
You stand on your very tiptoes, grabbing at air. Then, a hand reaches up and grabs them. You turn, about to ask them for the box, when the man passes the box to you.
"Here, you looked like you needed help." He holds the box out with one hand, running his fingers through his black hair with the other.
You blink curiously at him, then take the box.
"Thank you so much, hon." You grin, placing the item in your cart and hurrying to check out.
-
The walk is still cold, despite the sun barely starting to set. You shiver, somehow managing to carry the groceries and the baby carrier at the same time.
About half a mile from your apartment, you bump into a chest. Dropping a few bags and praying the eggs aren't in them.
"Sorry about that", a masculine voice mumbles above you. You tilt your head up to meet the eyes of a boy a little younger than the one who helped you before. He tilts his head, a tuft of white hair hanging in his eyes.
"Would you like some help?" He starts grabbing the dropped bags before you can answer. He makes a gesture for you to lead the way.
"I'm Jason, by the way. We live in the same complex."
You swear you've never seen him before, but maybe that's just you.
-
That night, groceries put away and a baby snuggled happily against your chest, you lay in bed.
Oblivious to several pairs of eyes watching you and the bickering from the rooftops above.
"Ummi spoke to me today, with the baby!" Damian speaks.
"Yeah, well I helped ma with her groceries!" Jason gives him a playful shove.
"Well, the baby smiled at me!" Dick jabs a thumb at his chest triumphantly.
"All of you hush!" Tim speaks up, crouched next to Duke, eyes focused on a familiar window.
Bruce looms nearby, caught up his daydream where he's the sweater wrapped so tightly around you. Someday.
Someday sooner than you think.
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mostly-imagines · 10 days
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Guard Dog
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods
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Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.
He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.
And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.
With other people though, he has…different methods.
You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.
You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.
His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.
“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.
A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.
Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.
Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.
Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.
“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.
Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.
“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.
The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”
“Mhm.” He grumbles.
The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.
“Jay?”
His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”
You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.
“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.
He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.
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You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.
His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.
You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.
Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.
He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.
Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.
“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.
Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”
“Thank God.”
Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.
His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.
“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”
Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).
You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.
Fuck he loves you.
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Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist and yours resting on his thighs as you tell him about your hectic day.
He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.
You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.
You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.
“Hey there.”
You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.
"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."
Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.
"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"
"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.
Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.
With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.
"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.
“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”
You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.
Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.
Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.
But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.
"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."
“She—”
“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”
The guy hesitates.
“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.
That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”
Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.
He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.
“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.
“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.
You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”
He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.
“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”
He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.
“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.
You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.
“Jaybird!”
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Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.
You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.
So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.
You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.
You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”
"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.
He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.
You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.
Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.
You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.
You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.
"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.
Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.
“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.
He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.
If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.
He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.
You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.
So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.
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artemismoorea03 · 8 months
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DPxDC Prompt: Who's Child Is This?
Inspired by an ICarly Clip. "Mr. Wayne, we have your son here."
Bruce blinked, then checked the number on the phone. It was from the police station. He then looked around the table which had fallen silent when Alfred had brought him the phone.
Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke, and Damian were all accounted for. Even Jon was there so they couldn't have misidentified him as his kid.
"Which one?" Bruce chose to ask.
"Tim Drake."
Bruce looked at Tim specifically as he tilted his head confused. "Are you sure?"
"Oh yeah, Mr. Wayne, we know your boys by now."
"Right... alright, I'll be there in a couple of minutes. Can I ask on why Tim has been taken into custody?"
Tim tilted his head even further while some of the others around the table started chuckling.
"He was found trespassing near the new Axion Labs at the edge of the city. The owner chose not to press charges so we're sending him home in your custody."
"I see, I'll be there soon. Thank you for the call."
"Of course, Mr. Wayne, we'll see you soon."
Bruce ended the call then looked at his kids. "Apparently, Tim has been arrested for trespassing near the Axion Labs construction site."
"And you didn't even invite me?" Dick chuckled at Tim, "We could have had so much fun together."
Tim scrunched his nose at the idea. "No way, that whole area is an OSHA violation. If I went there it wouldn't be out of costume, whoever that kid is was risking his life just walking within a block of it."
"Well, I'm going to go down there and see what 'Tim' was thinking." Bruce got out of his seat, "I'll be back soon."
"New brother?" Cass asked as Damian growled.
"We're going to assume no for now, but we may have another for dinner depending on what's going on."
"I will prepare another seat while you are gone, Master Bruce."
"Thanks, Alfred. I'll be back soon."
-
When Bruce walked into the police station he immediately noticed 'Tim' sitting in front of one of the officers desks. It was a newer officer and it was clear that neither Detective Montoya or Commissioner Gordon were in or somebody would have noticed that this kid definitely wasn't Tim.
Yes, the kid had black hair which was on the shorter side but his hair fell in front of his face more than Tim would wear it, and his eyes were unnaturally blue. He was pale in an old hoodie, blue jeans, and red shoes. The biggest difference though was that this kid looked like he was only pushing 15, not 17. Yes, he looked quite a bit like Tim but anybody who had spent more than five minutes with Tim Drake would know they weren't the same person.
"Mr. Wayne." The officer called as Bruce walked over, looking at the kid.
He was thin and pale, which a tired look on his face. He also shrunk away from Bruce when he walked over.
Bruce knew what a kid in trouble looked like. So he smiled down at the kid. "You know, Tim, when I said you could go to the lab to do your science homework I didn't expect you to go all the way to Axion Labs."
The kid looked at him, surprised then seemed to quickly catch on. "What can I say, I had to see what terrible science looked like. Sorry for making you come down here."
"It's fine, but are you okay?"
"Y-yeah, totally." He said, his hand subconsciously moving to his ribs as though he was hurt.
"Alright then you are grounded."
"What?!" 'Tim' squeaked, "Come on-"
"Nope. You are ground... for... 'til... college."
"FOR 'TIL COLLEGE?!"
"For 'til college!"
The officer cleared his throat then held out a clipboard. "If you sign the red x's you can take your son and leave, Mr. Wayne."
Bruce took the papers, quickly looking over it and signing it. It was strange to see that all of the handwriting on the paperwork was adult writing. Had they even asked this kid his name? Once everything was signed he passed it back over to the officer who nodded.
"Looks good. Thanks Mr. Wayne and you stay out of trouble. The whole city knows your face. You're just lucky Mr. Masters didn't want to press charges."
"Yeah, so lucky." The kid rolled his eyes, then stood up and looked up at Bruce. "Can we go now?"
"Sure thing, chum. Come on." Bruce said, leading the kid out of the station and to the car. The kid seemed hesitant as he looked around, his eyes narrowing when they landed on a gentlemen with silver hair in a ponytail, only when the man smiled at 'Tim' did the kid speak up again.
"Come on, Dad, let's get out of here before the stalkers find us." He said, climbing in the front seat and closing the door, much to the annoyance of the silver haired man.
Bruce climbed in the front seat, buckling in and driving away from the station. "So... 'not Tim' what's your name?"
"Danny. Just Danny... sorry about all of that Mr. Wayne. That guy took one look at me and started calling me 'Tim' and when I tried to explain that I wasn't 'Tim' hey called me a liar. But if I gave them my real name then... somebody else was going to come collect me and I didn't want that. So... I let them call me Tim. I'm sorry, I hope it didn't put you out..."
"Not at all. But... are you okay? Why were you at Axion Labs?"
Danny seemed hesitant, "I... it sounds crazy."
"It's Gotham, kid. Crazy things happen all the time..."
"Right... well um... I-I was kidnapped from my home and taken to Axion Labs. I-I escaped and when I was trying to leave the grounds the police saw me and thought I was trespassing. Since the cops were I decided to play along with it..."
Bruce frowned, "Kidnapped? Is... is there somebody I can call?"
Danny shook his head. "I have an older sister who is probably going crazy looking for me but other than her and a couple of friends there wouldn't be anybody. My parents... they were kind of involved. They... they found out something about me and tried to hurt me, I ran to somebody I knew I couldn't trust because I thought maybe he would get his head out of his ass but I was just being an idiot." Danny hugged himself. "You can drop me off anywhere though, you don't have to bother yourself with me or my shit."
Bruce pulled to a stoplight and reached over to the kid who flinched, Bruce waited until he relaxed before Bruce patted his head. "I'm not going to just leave you on the street. Besides, it's late and by now my butler has already dished you some dinner. So at least for tonight you're welcome to stay with me and my kids. We'll get some food in your belly, make sure you're not wounded, let you call your sister, and find a way to get you home. Sound good?" He asked, moving his hand away.
Danny looked at Bruce, seeming a bit untrusting for a moment before he glanced at something near Bruce and relaxed. There was nothing with Bruce, he wasn't carrying anything, but whatever Danny was seeing was enough to put his mind at ease. "Okay... but if anybody tries anything be warned, I bite."
Bruce chuckled, "So do most of the others. You'll fit right in."
'But just what the hell is going on with this kid? Does it have anything to do with that man outside the police station? I've got to get to the bottom of this before this kid leaves, especially if he's still a target.'
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noxtivagus · 1 year
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hdalkfjsldf i miss my friends :c
#🌙.rambles#sometimes i. hmm. usually actually i may be too busy or too shy to say it outright#but i miss when we'd talk. i miss when we'd call; i miss the sound of your voice n the way you laugh n smile#sorry . i just. really write like that. hdfkasdjfd i love the ppl in my life v much :c#i know the way my eyes turn when i see you online. or the way i notice the songs you play. or when you have a new playlist#n always i still find there's so much more i want to say. n when you appear too in my dreams—how could i ever forget?#oh these tags r just gna be for several ppl so i won't be too obvious about it#i miss when i was less busy n we'd exchange. asks? texts? yeah. & when we'd play tgther n i rmb how i'd always look forward to the next tim#i miss the days when. i used to write about you being in them. bcs i write down.. mostly everything so that i can remember.#i miss when we were kids n us four wld hang out in the library. i miss those days so much#i miss in lower school when we'd run around the field.. imagining scenarios. hehe#i rmb writing stories tgther w some other friends. having my friends read what i write too#yeah. i miss when we'd be able to see n talk w each other nearly every day. whether irl or online.#i do find myself missing when my sleep sched was fucked up bcs i used to talk to ppl quite a lot in those times#i miss. so much but we're all getting busier in our own lives. n i wish. i think. i cld be more in each of them. like. mutually?#but yeah yk as we age there's so much more to manage :c but i can't help but dream. i'll never stop.#n. i think this is combined w a lot of ppl lately like. those i haven't talked w as much. which is. nearly everyone actually#but like yk like w.. my friend grp rn yh n. a lot of other stuff combined. i just. i think i just wish we cld all be more sincere w#each other. now i see even more clearly why people drift apart as they age. we all get busy w each our own lives yk?#n i'm busy w my own too but. just like how i still remember n love everyone dearly. i think. i just need reassurance that.#yk. you feel the same way too. n personally i wish i cld hesitate less but i'm afraid of unintentionally adding more to the burden#n other times i just. really lack the energy. idk there's so much to write n in so many aspects.. just so many left unfinished.#but. i know well how. closure is. hard to get by. i'm very well acquainted w that feeling of lack of closure.#hmm. being insatiable is so bittersweetly part of human nature. we can be happy n satisfied but.. yeah honestly i think#it's just. really in life's nature to never ever be quite enough. so changing mindset is. really important but. still. it aches.#n i know i miss a lot. n i know i wish i did more n i cld do more even now. but we're all busy n#no it's. it's fine. i think what's best is for all of us to do what we can with our own selves so that we can do more w the rest of the#world too. n i'm sure i'll find a way that works for me. i know what i want; & i'll just promise to never let go. never forget.#n that wld be enough rn. theres only so little time in the world n it feels like it goes by far too fast but. i for one has never forgotten#n. i'll always be here. BUT YEAH WAIT I'M ACTUALLY BUSY TOO I SHLD DO MY ASSIGNMENTS TMRRW BCS I WNA REST 😭😭
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DPXDC prompt: Haunted Manor
Nightwing: And meet Tim, our main brain cell. He works on pure rage and caffeine but often gets too carried away and forgets to sleep. Phantom: Well, for a ghost his age it’s okay to focus on the obsession of his core. He’ll grow out of it. "Ghost?" Tim takes eyes off screen and tries to find his pulse."Uh-oh…" Phantom: You…didn’t notice that you died? Red Robin: Well, I sometimes lose consciousness at work. Maybe I just didn’t notice that at one of these times side effects were more permanent. But in recent months, there have been so many difficult cases to investigate, and Bruce was lost and I had to find evidence that he was alive and … Red Hood: What the hell, Timmy?! I thought cameraman never dies. Signal *in horror*: What should we tell Alfred? Tim *drinks more coffee*: Yeah, that's a problem. Damian: What are you doing? Stop drinking this sh- drink and go to bed. Your routine literally killed you. Red Robin: Come on. Obviously, I can’t get any worse from an overdose. But wait, wait..does it mean that now I have an ability to work non-stop 'cause I'm ghost? Ha! No RIP for me, I’m entering a whole new level of productivity, guys, hear me out.. ~~~~ Nightwing is silent. If Tim died at the time he was looking for Bruce, and it was Dick who didn’t believe him that Batman was still alive, does that mean it was all his fault?
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qcomicsy · 1 year
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Phrases I bet were said on the batfamily patrols without context.
Tim in his comm: No. he's not dead- *casually checks Jason's pulse* yeah there's nothing to worry about.
--
Jason nudging a mugger with his feet: He'll live.
--
Dick: No one tells any of this to Batman
Batman, behind him: No one tells what to Batman
Dick:
--
Robin: You said Redhood should stop killing do I look like Redhood to you?
--
Jason: This * shows a pair off rubber bullets to the renchman * were not letal, now this * shows them a pair of real bullets* are.
*reloads*
Jason: Start running.
--
Dick at the comm: What do you mean next to the Batsburguer? I am literally-- Hood. Hood. Jason. sto- STOP SCREAMING AT ME- I am literally- SHUT UP! Jason- I swear to god, I will hang up on you... WE ARE LITERALLY IN FRONT OF THE BATSBURGUER,... What do you mean "what car" what do you think? We're... We're next to - sorry - Next to the old lady behind the drive thru... fuck sake You know what? Just send us your location- Just- Yeah...
Damian, looking at his phone with the location:..... Dumbass you're in the wrong Batsburguer.
--
The signal, making eye contact with the other batkids: I do not know them.
--
Damian Robin: What are you doing in here?
Tim in his civil clothes: Are you serious? This is literally my rooftop. I live in this house.
--
Literally everyone to Oracle: Do NOT call Batman
--
Oracle: I'm calling batman.
--
Batman, clearly lost, lying through his teeth while gripping the batmobile's steering wheel: This is my city, we do not need a map.
--
Jason: Oh my god, you two are such drama queens the kid just dislocated his arm. Hey. Hey Robin. Do that thing you did last time- He's going to be okay. Robin do that thing.
Dick: D-Robin do not-
Batman, at the same time: Robin do not
Damian currently running towards a wall to relocate his arm: *crack.* There. Let's go.
--
Steph: Technically he ran in front of my van so if we're being fair-
--
Robin squinting: ...Is that Harley Quinn in a Batman suit?
--
Harley: This is so unfair! Why he always send the interns to fight me!
Robin Damian, done with her shit: Maybe because you fight like a little boy
--
Spoiler: Yo mama
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Nightwing: Let's do the flying Robin-
Robin Jason: What do you mean flying Robin? *Nightwing grabs him* WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. NIGHTWING- NIGHTWING YOU MOTHERF-
Nightwing: YEET
--
Redhood:
Nighwing: What?
Redhood: Let's do the flying Robin.
Nighwing: ⁿᵒ⁻
--
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ew-selfish-art · 7 months
Text
DCxDP AU: Danny and Damian are actually twins but were never raised together- Talia would divide her time between bases, spending time with them separately (but spending more time with Damian). Jason technically only met Danny in his time with the LoA.
It still a very tenuous truce that Jason has with his family when he finally joins them for breakfast after a late night of busting a drug ring. And sue him, he's never cared to look at the little one that closely when he's not pointing a knife in his direction. But then the little Bat Brat turned his face towards the ray of light streaming into the family room of the Manor and Jason caught a closer look to the… green color. Huh.
“Hey demon, when you died did you come back with those green eyes?” Jason calls out, and perhaps it’s a little antagonistic but something deeply unsettles the crime lord about this.
“Tt. I’ve always had green eyes Todd. Your observation skills remain dulled-“ Damian begins to berate him but Jason’s scowl deepens and he interrupts.
“No, they were definitely Bruce’s color blue when I met you with Talia- I punched your lights out because of it remember?” Jason supplies, looking perturbed and having a small child look equally perturbed back at him.
“You never met me in Nanda Parbat. And mother would have never allowed you to attack above your station and live.”
“Kid I literally have the scars from my punishment. My memory from that time after the pit might not be great or even good but I know, I know I punched your lights out.”
“No doubt you have been fooled by a clone then-“ Damian says but he looks upset.
“Talia called you Dami then, you’ve never let us call you that.” Jason supplies further, he was certain that Talia had introduced him as her son.
“I was never called such an informal name.” But Damian looks disturbed more than he looks like he wants to fight.
Eventually, after combing through their collective memory of Talia's where abouts and Damian's lack of interaction with Todd, it’s decided that they have to talk to Drake who was there the most recently. Neither wants to add the fact that he's also the most knowledgeable family member when it comes to the LoA now.
“Huh? Yeah, it looks like Talia kept ledgers dividing her time between two places- the journal reads like there is Dami as Damian but… maybe it’s Dami AND Damian…” Tim reviews the books he robbed them of with a fine tooth comb and suddenly this pattern of using the “nickname” and the “full name” start to show a “first child” and a “second child”.
Damian was clearly the favorite. The ‘Dami’ kid was sent away on a suicide mission pretty early in their lives, he would have left right after Todd did at the age of 8-ish. They all groaned at the cold trail following this assignment he failed to return from- it meant that they had to involve Bruce with a DNA search of the local areas the kid had been sent to across the globe. One of which, weirdly enough, was in Illinois.
“My name isn’t Daniel” Danny sighs at yet another event the Mansons brought him to with Vlad looking over his shoulder every five minutes.
Then the weird skinny kid who’s the big talk of the town approaches him with some guy built like a tank and says: “It’s Damian, isn’t it?”
Danny literally sinks through the floors, but in his attempts to run out the back door he’s stopped- By a guy that has Danny's own face and a very sharp looking knife pressed to Danny's throat.
In short- Danny introduced himself to the Fentons as “Dami” but they misheard him and called him Danny and fuck it, it’s close enough.
Now it turns out that their mother only planned on one surviving the artificial womb and gave them very different amounts of her time- so she just gave them the same name and reported it like she only had one child.
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incorrectbatfam · 2 months
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What are the batfam's culture shocks when they go to England with Alfred?
Alfred: Here we are!
Bruce: *hyperventilating over people driving on the wrong side*
Steph: These portion sizes aren't nearly enough.
Bette: At least they got your order right. I asked for fish and chips but they gave me fries instead.
Damian: *struggling with the chasm between the train and the platform*
Barbara: Ugh, why are the sidewalks so narrow?
Harper: What, no countdown voice at crosswalks? Rude.
Duke: *puts ice in his tea*
Tim: Bernard hung up on me because apparently "it's 4 AM in Gotham."
Carrie: Hey, that cop forgot his gun.
Dick: What's a Tesco?
Kate: I gotta admit, the chocolate here is a step up.
Selina: I should move here. These houses look stupid easy to break into.
Cullen: *downloading a VPN for American Netflix*
Luke: So you use miles for distance but kilograms for weight? Make it make sense.
Jason: Casual swearing, fuck yeah!
Helena: *trying to pronounce "Leicester"*
Cass: *getting rained on*
Alfred, eye twitching: Home sweet home.
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deadsetobsessions · 3 months
Text
He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.
“Uh.”
“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”
Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.
Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”
Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.
“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”
“Nope!”
“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”
Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.
“Deal.”
“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.
“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.
“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”
“What, you don’t have to do that.”
“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”
“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.
“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”
“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.
When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.
——
“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.
“Cass! What’s up?”
“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.
What…?
Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.
“Huh.”
“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.
“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”
“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.
“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.
“Woah!”
Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.
“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.
“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.
She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”
“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”
“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”
“Master Danny!”
Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”
Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.
But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?
Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.
Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.
——
“Cass? Why’d you call us?”
“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”
Cass paces.
“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.
“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”
“What.”
“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.
“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”
Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”
“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.
In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.
——
“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”
“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.
“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”
“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.
Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.
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woodland-gremlin · 19 days
Text
Fruitloops
“We’re home!” Conner bellows, posing like he just won the Super Bowl, with Tim behind him looking exasperated.
“Welcome home,” Danny says from the kitchen. “I’m just finishing up the Fudge.”
Hearing the word Fudge Conner cheers before running to the kitchen door. “I call licking the spoon!”
Tim freezes before rushing to catch up with Conner. Danny’s Phantom Fudge was legendary and there was no way he was going to give up the right to lick the spoon without a fight. Conner may have super powers and a head start but he didn’t free Bruce from being stuck in the time stream with his boyfriends by just his good looks, though they certainly helped.
He looks around to see what can give him an advantage in his quest for legendary Fudge when he sees something that causes his heart to drop. League of Assassins garb peeking out through the hallways closet.
His mind began to work in overtime trying to figure out what this could mean. While it seems like one of the League’s assassins is for some reason hiding in his closet, that also makes very little sense. If one were here they would never make such a mistake. It could be one of Danny or Conner’s souvenirs that they liberated from the League when the three of them blew up a bunch of their bases. But that doesn’t explain why they would be in one of their apartment closets, they keep that stuff in the Nest with the rest of the stuff connected to their alter-egos. Though Danny does like to bring some of his inventions here to fiddle with sometimes, he usually phases them into things to hide them when he isn’t working on them.
As Tim prepares for a fight while trying to figure out the assassin grab Danny phases his head through the kitchen wall. “Tim want some Fudge?” he asks before looking at what caught Tim’s interest. “Why are you looking at where I tied up the Cultist Fruitloop?”
Tim’s eyes widen before turning to where Danny’s head was poking through the wall. “Ras?!” Tim squeaks. This catches attention from where he was gorging himself with Fudge. “Ra’s here?!” he asks while rushing towards them, getting ready to fight.
Danny phases through the rest of the wall before shrugging like he didn’t just say there was an immortal leader of a cult of assassins tied up in their closet.
“Well, he kind of just showed up and started ranting about how he would make you,” Danny says while gesturing towards Tim, “his, so I knocked him out with the anti-creep stick and tied him up before shoving him in the closet.”
Tim wanted to bang his head against the wall and from the look of it Conner wasn’t that far behind him in that thought. This was Ras for Ancients sake and here Danny was acting like he was some common thug.
“You don’t seem very concerned,” Conner said, stating the obvious.
Danny shrugs again, “Well yeah, I phased his weapons into me and tied him up. Plus the Original Fruitloop does stuff like this all the time. Doesn’t yours do it too?”
And that, that made sense. It wasn’t that Danny wasn’t taking it seriously, it was that he was used to it. They all were. Each of them had some older Creep that was obsessed with them. He had Ras to deal with, Conner had Luthor, and Danny had been dealing with Masters for years. Honestly, if Masters or Luthor showed up and acted like Ras did he would have tied them up and stuffed them in the closet too.
“Just tell us sooner next time,” Tim sighs.
Danny chuckles nervously while rubbing the back of his head., “Yeah, will do. I just kind of forgot since he showed up in the middle of me making the Fudge.”
Conner gasps, leaning against the wall like he had just heard the most sacrilegious of news. “He interrupted the sacred ritual that is the making of Fudge?!?!” Conner then continues with his hand on his heart, “The audacity.”
Danny snorts while Tim facepalms. It’s moments like this that made him wonder why he loves these two idiots.
“Why is he tied up like a pig?” Conner asks after opening the closet, looking at Ras.
“Because he is one,” Danny absentmindedly replied.
And then it was moments like this that he remembers why.
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