#I know bruce can eat like normal human | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

plethorawrites · 2 months ago

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So we’ve seen all of the batbros as cats but what about the reader? What would happen if they were turned into a cat?

This took forever, sorry! But yes, I totally can!

Bruce: Weary and worried.

• Before all else, he's concerned with making sure you're alright. He calls Zatanna immediately to ensure it's not permanent and then after he knows it's not, he can relax enough to try to comfort you.

• He was never a cat person, only ever owning dogs, so he really has no clue how to take care of a cat. Let alone a cat who's really the love of his life. He tries, though. He gets Alfred to make you dinner, something that's fresh and not gross Tuna or Salmon from a can. He gives you your choice of every throw pillow in the manor to tear up when he sees you get antsy, your claws flicking in and out in stress. And of course, everything poisonous to cats like the peace lilies in the living room are moved far away.

• Bruce still has to go to work, unfortunately and with no idea how to keep you entertained, puts on those "Soothing cat videos" on the big TV in his bedroom for you to watch. A six hour loop of a fishtank is less than ideal but seems to work well enough.

• You're in the same place as when he left you, so he assumes you didn't mind too much. He notices you grooming yourself, not because you want to, but out of some strange instinct you've developed and he can tell you're grossed out by your own actions, so he does his best to clean your fur himself. You might be a cat, but you seem to like water so he puts you in the bathtub and scrubs your fur with your normal soap which makes you pur.

• Until he takes you out of the warm water and you're absolutely freezing, shivering from the cold. He wraps you in a towel and holds you to his chest until you're mostly dry, then, despite the dampness of your fur, let's you curl up under the covers since you're still a bit chilly. It makes his own skin wet, but he doesn't mind since at least you seem a bit happier.

---

Dick: Amused and empathetic.

• He tries not to laugh. He really does. It's just...so much harder than it should be. You look so small, so adorable, so fuzzy. You have a tail, for God's sake. How could it not be hilarious? He only stops chuckling when you swat your paw at him, catching him with sharp claws, cutting him. He doesn't get upset since he knows he deserved it.

• Goes to the pet store with you, letting you sit in the cart and pick out your own things, which, he can tell you dislike but reluctantly comply—otherwise he'd buy you a rat themed toy instead of the feather one you wanted. You gurgle and growl repeatedly when he picks up those stupid cat costumes, but he still buys them anyway.

• And yes, he does force you to wear them. You resisted, at first, of course, but eventually gave up when he gave you those puppy dog eyes. If you thought being a cat was humiliating, you couldn't have prepared for being a cat wearing a sombrero and poncho. "Those are our Christmas cards this year," he tells you, kissing the top of your head while you meow in protest.

• Despite that, he's still sweet to you, apologizing for you having to go through this and swearing he'll fix it. In the meantime, just try to stay positive. He'll say you can rip up the drapes if it makes you feel better. You do and it does. You always hated them and he refused to get rid of them, but now there was a valid reason to.

• He sits on the floor with you, swinging the feather toy around as you chase it, gaining a good amount of height the longer you play. His arm gets tired but you're clearly not, so he sits there until you eventually get sick of it and he sets it down while you crawl into his lap for a nap. He was going to make something to eat, but he supposes he can wait.

---

Jason: Paranoid and terrified.

• His initial response is to reassure you that you'll be fine. He'll do whatever it takes you turn you back into a human, no matter what. His second response, is to freak out. He has no idea how to take care of a cat, let alone his partner who's a cat! What if he hurts you? What if he can't fix it?

• Being a cat, you, unbeknownst to him, sense him apprehension and almost immediately start rubbing against his legs until he hesitantly picks you up, cradling you in his arms as gently as possible. You rub your head against his jaw, trying to soothe him and he takes a few deep breaths, relaxing and nuzzling your fur.

• It takes him a while, and a lot of trial and error to figure out how to take care of you, be it buying food you don't like, to accidentally leaving the window open and panicking that you escaped (you were under the bed, because it was warm and safe) but he eventually calms down once the day is finally over.

• Cuddling with you on the couch, he can barely even feel your claws kneeding on his arms because there's so much scar tissue it's too hard to scratch and hurt. Your purring is what calms him down the most though, after an extremely long, stressful day. You sitting on his lap, his hand resting on your back as he slowly and accidentally falls asleep.

• When he wakes up, you're still a cat, still sleeping on him. He picks you up carefully, taking you to the bedroom so he can sleep in his bed and you aren't left alone in the living room. He has a feeling you'll be yourself soon enough, even if he doesn't know exactly when. He'll keep you safe until then.

---

Tim: Shocked and Frantic

• He immediately starts to panic. You're a cat. A freaking cat. How? Why? What does he need to do to fix it? He has a million questions and no answers. But his stress only adds to your own and he quickly tries to calm down before soothing you: "No, no, no. It's fine. You're gonna be fine. I swear."

• Still, the second he gets you out of the room, convincing you that you'd be more comfortable in the living room than in the batcave, he starts to pace and freak out again. It's actually Damian, of all people, who gets him to snap out of it, literally slapping him across the face and telling him to be there for you instead of worrying about the details.

• He listens, to an extent, going back upstairs to where you were chewing on the fern in the living room, ripping a leaf apart. Pulling you away from it as you meow in protest, he cradles you in his arms, apologizing for fretting and promising he won't leave again.

• And he doesn't. He does, however, keep working on a way to fix you. He tries to be annoyed when you start knocking things off his desk, pushing stuff into a water bowl, jumping into his bottom drawer, laying on his papers, but he can't do it. You're just acting too cute to genuinely be mad. Eventually, he takes a break, closing the drawer you were sitting in and hauling you to his bed.

• He'll admit, he threw you with a little less caution than he probably should have, but you didn't mind, crawling onto him the moment he laid down, eager to close your eyes after being awake for far too long. Aka 5 straight hours, which, for a cat, was a lot. He didn't quite realize that, but notices almost immediately how fast you fall asleep once you lay down, curling into a ball, tucking your nose under your tail to keep it warm.

---

Damian: Is both fascinated and prepared.

• He has over a dozen pets, so when you're turned into a cat, he already knows everything there is to know and gets you anything you could possibly need. A nice cat bed, toys to keep you entertained, a post to scratch so you don't ruin any furniture.

• His others pets want to play or chase you, but he scoops you up before any of them can get even close to you. And he insists you stay close to him and not wander off, because you could get lost, kidnapped, or hurt.

• You always knew his knowledge of animals was extensive but didn't realize how much so until he was petting you, explaining how the hair follicles on cats work, which is why they never like to be pet in certain areas.

• Despite having an extremely nice bed, you'd really rather prefer his and he allows it, reminding you not to scratch the pillows or the sheets. "They're Egyptian silk. Don't ruin them." Still, when he catches you clawing at them in your sleep, unaware you were doing it, he doesn't stop you.

• In the morning, he switches feeds you breakfast, in a human bowl so it's not so degrading and takes you with him while he works on a way to fix you. He quickly gets distracted, though, by how you're looking around at everything like it's the most interesting thing ever.

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wonderjanga · 4 months ago

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Can I Please be Your Friend?

Billy doesn’t have friends. Between being Marvel and working odd jobs, he hasn’t really had the time some. So when he got invited to join the newly formed Justice League. He was ecstatic! Sure, these people were at least a very minimum of 20 years older than him and sure they would probably talk about taxes and stuff, but superhero friends! Meanwhile, the Justice League is like, “wow this guy is so social. I like it!”

Marvel: “You have a lighthouse…?” *sounds so amazed*

Aquaman: “Yeah. My dad was a lighthouse keeper so I got it when he passed.”

Marvel: “That’s so awesome! Can I come over?”

Aquaman: “Oh, okay? Sure?” *a little surprised he asked but eh whatever*

That was how Arthur spent the day showing Cap around the lighthouse. The man was a really good listener and was surprisingly very interested in listening to Arthur talk about how to use the light. You couldn’t even ask Arthur how they both ended up jumping off the railings of the lighthouse of dive into the water. You also couldn’t ask him how they ended up having a water fight, with the Atlantean calling for some sea creatures as back up. You also also couldn’t ask him how shocked a hotdog vendor was when he saw Captain Marvel and Aquaman, both of which who are supposed to be revered heroes, soaked, looking like wet dogs, asking for a couple of hotdogs after they nearly caused a tidal wave.

They got scolded by Batman a little while later for acting like children and almost causing the previously mentioned tidal wave. It was a little funny to see Batman scolding a man a solid two feet taller than him.

Soon after that whole incident, Marvel went to befriend Martian Manhunter next.

Marvel: *staring at J’onn while holding a box of cookies*

MM: *can hear him thinking about how to approach him and looks over to Marvel*

Marvel: *thinks a little too loudly and J’onn hears a nearly deafening “FRIEND”*

MM: *flinches and clutches his head* “Captain. Is something the matter.”

Marvel: “Oh uh…” *walks over and looks between the cookies and J’onn* “I was uh- wondering if you wanted to eat these with me.”

And that’s how J’onn spent the rest of the afternoon eating cookies with Marvel. J’onn had at first thought Marvel was quiet because he was something humans called awkward. But no, every now and then, when J’onn forgot that humans preferred to keep their thoughts private, he’d hear how happy Marvel was that he accepted. He’d also heard a couple other voices which was slightly concerning. He didn’t know if that was normal for humans or not.

Then, the next was Batman. Bruce honestly didn’t even know how they had started talking about this. All he knows is that they were talking about the team’s performance in the field, then that somehow transitioned into talking about superheroes in general, which then somehow led to fictional superheroes, which led to now:

Marvel: “Oh, you like Gray Ghost?”

Batman: “I was… a fan of him when I was a child.” *doesn’t know why he’s telling Marvel this*

Marvel: “Cool! Did you see the movies?”

From there on was a forty minute yapping session about Gray Ghost, his lore, the movies, the comics, the action figures, and so on.

Marvel: “I even had his comics as a kid too.”

Batman: “Really? Reprints or originals?”

Marvel: “I wanna say originals? What do you mean by reprints though?”

Batman: “Reprinting is when they take a comic, and remake it to look a little better, such as brighter colors or slightly tweaked dialogue, so they can sell it again.”

Marvel: “Oh. Then I’d say I probably have originals then.”

Batman: “Interesting. Those are collectors items now. They go for thousands.”

Marvel; “Really?!” *eyes nearly bug out of his skull* “Huh. I had no idea. Which ones did you have?”

Batman: “Mostly reprints. But I do have a couple originals on display.”

So yeah. The two were geeking out and stuff. Bruce honestly has literally no one to talk about this with so he’ll admit he was a little (a lot) happy.

We can’t forget the other JL heroes though.

Flash: “Like, he is so nice, and for what?”

GL: “I know right he let me ramble for like 45 minutes about planes! He was asking questions too!”

Supes: “And he’s always willing to help with anything. I didn’t even get to finish asking if he could cover my monitor shifts before he said yes.” *sounds slightly guiltily (he still feels bad for asking)*

In conclusion, Billy really wants to be friends with these guys, and his methods are definitely working.

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #batman #aquaman #arthur curry #bruce wayne #martian manhunter #j’onn j’onzz

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mostly-imagines · 19 days ago

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Damian was unwilling to even consider accepting your presence. He’d been sure that you were a passing source of entertainment for his older brother, who couldn’t possibly hold positive regard towards anyone other than himself.

Jason had brought you to the manor with him while he dropped in to discuss some things with the old man. You’d told him you’d be fine to hang out with Damian until he was done, to which he scoffed and wished you luck.

So you approach the couch tentatively and smile despite the lack of attention on you, “Hi Damian.”

He merely side eyes you and says nothing.

Having expected this from him, you continue, “What are you watching?”

“The Discovery channel.” He says shortly.

You frown, furrowing your eyebrows.

He glances at you, unamused. “What?”

“Why are you watching the Discovery channel?” you ask him.

“It’s educational.” He tells you, like it’s obvious.

You nod slowly, “Yes, but…what else do you watch?”

“The Discovery channel has many different series’,” he tells you with discernable disinterest.

You tilt your head at him, “Don’t you watch shows for kids?”

He glowers hearing that, “Why would I do that?”

“…Because you’re a kid.”

He shakes his head, basically waving you off. “I wouldn’t waste my time.”

You’re not really sure why Damian is the way he is just yet. You know he only came to live with Bruce relatively recently and before that lived with his mother somewhere far. Jason’s mentioned in passing that his upbringing was a bit unorthodox and his mother is a sore subject. You don’t know Bruce well but you can take a guess that his parenting priorities don’t necessarily lie with letting kids be kids.

You shake your head, “It’s not a waste of time. Not if you enjoy it.” You pause. “It’s okay for you to be a kid, Damian.”

He looks at you like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

You sit up more, turning to face him completely. “I can’t imagine pushing yourself so hard all the time is good for your brain. Or your body.”

That gets his attention. “…What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, “I mean a part of normal human development involves fostering happiness through recreation and leisure. Entertainment like that functions as a stress reliever which is necessary for you to operate at your highest capacity. It’s like recharging your body and it’s important to do, especially when you’re young and can burn out quickly.”

He frowns deeply, furrowing his eyebrows, “Oh.”

You nod, thinking. “I can’t imagine your diet is any different than your dads, then.”

His posture straightens, “I eat to make me stronger. That is good for my body.” He says it like it has to be.

Your brow furrows at that as you nod, “Yeah, it is, but do you like it?”

He grimaces, “What does that matter?”

You pull back a bit, blinking at him. “Do you eat snacks, Damian?”

“Snacks are for—” he cuts himself off. “No I do not.”

“What if we watched a movie and made popcorn or something?”

He considers this with an obvious great hesitance, looking you up and down like he’s expecting you to pull out a knife any second.

“You could be wrong,” he says eventually, quiet.

You nod for a moment. “But what if I’m not?”

He eyes the rug on the floor, chin still held up. “What…do you suggest?”

You pucker your lower lip and shake your head, grabbing the remote. “Anything you want,” You flip the screen to the children’s movies, scrolling through the options. “You might like The Rescuers. Or Robin Hood. It’s about someone who steals from the rich and gives the money to the poor.”

You hand him the remote and he slowly moves through the list. You watch him look over the selection, eyes slightly wider than usual.

“What about “Bambi”? It has small animals in the picture.” He points to the little icon on the left of the screen displaying the baby deer and friends.

Your movements stutter. “Oh, uh…I don’t think that’s the movie for you.”

He tilts his head at you, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath and turn your head over your shoulder towards the kitchen. “I’m going to make popcorn, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You smile and nod encouragingly and stand before making your way to the kitchen.

Damian watches you go before thoughtlessly standing himself and trailing slowly after you. By the time he gets to the kitchen door frame you’ve already opened up a packet and are placing it into the microwave. You don’t stop at that, opening up the fridge to pour out a small glass of coke.

The popcorn is nearly done when Jason approaches from the hall, stopping next to Damian and peering into the doorway to see what’s so interesting.

He’s surprised to find that the thing Damian had been staring wide-eyed at was you, making snacks.

He looks again at his little brother, heeding how his gaze was somehow closer to fear than skepticism. But he’d seen that look before, when he’d first come to live at the manor it was the only expression he conveyed for at least two months. That look of shock that he was being treated so kindly, with such thought behind it. Jason hadn’t seen that look in a while, but couldn’t find it in him to be surprised that it was you who brought it back out.

For someone as trained as he is, it takes Damian an embarrassingly long time to register his brother's presence. He tries to play it off as though he’d always known, adjusting his posture to stand taller, chin up. He turns to face Jason, suddenly somber. “She is an adequate choice of a partner.”

Jason’s face contorts, looking him up and down, “…Thanks?”

#jason todd x reader

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invincibledc · 13 days ago

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ꫂৎ𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒/𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐗 𝐖𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂!𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

Genre: headcannons

info!☆ Wynorrific, the word of being visually beautiful.. but being horrific at the same times. But reader is a monster in human form, trying to mimick humans for their/her own amusement. Reader goes by they/she & them/her. Sorry if it’s gets confusing.

☆warning: disturbing descriptions & headcannons, the family ignoring how reader is a red flag, a little of crack into this. You have been warned, viewer discretion.

having man eating fem monster into the family.. is crazy. But that’s just the bat-family who can’t help but obsess over this monster who loves to tear into the flesh of humans. The sweet relief of hearing screams gives her them pleasure. Them taking the pleasure of a beautiful woman, but being an abomination to man kind. But Bruce doesn’t care, as long as they make his sons happy.

reader could eating a person’s body, destroying any features that could make them recognizable, and they’ll be like. “Awww they’re hungry…”

don’t give them an axe, she will tear someone’s head open like a busted can.

Once a low level crook accidentally harmed Jason, and they went livid, immediately tackling the crook down and tearing their neck muscle out. Jason could only chuckle in his red hood outfit, “She’s so protective…” while he shoots a guy down without looking.

reader being the type of person to not care for anyone but themself but is literally loved for no reason. That’s the whole thing with the family.

Damian who’s such a little shit, he literally doesn’t know how to approach such a man eater like them… so he brought a dead body to them. What? Can’t a guy make friends with some random monster on earth?

Reader enjoyed the body anyways, he had gained her blessing to not be killed in his sleep.

tim having to get a improved child leash for her. It’s funny, I swear. But it’s so scary.

“Calm down!” He exclaimed trying to hold the monster from tearing into a minion of a villain. The minion sobbed in terror at this.. shadowed face woman that has rows of sharp teeth. Ready to bite into his head and chew his brain like gum.

“Sorry.. she usually isn’t like this.” Tim says with a chuckle as if this was very normal to him. He darkly look at the minion with a grin that doesn’t reach his face. “You must smell very good for her to want to eat you. Would be a shame if I let go of this leash if you don’t give me any information about your boss.

Chomping at the air with harsh gargling noises, it was a disgusting sound as tim just smiled still. “Better get to talking.” Tim loosens his grip a bit. “She’s hungry.”

reader doesn’t even speak, like they are nonverbal. Only making small clicking and crunching sounds from their body and their mouth. But if they were to mimic human language, then their traps to trap people will be lethal

I sometimes headcannon dick to be an officer/detective for a day job. Just imagine how it feels to have people rushing in about their loved ones that died being mauled by something.

oh no! Your husband’s been ripped apart, limb for limb and only his head was left? Well.. too bad. Wonder who could’ve been the culprit. And the culprit is certainly in their little cage, chewing on raw meat.

Damian can trust this abomination won’t eat his pets, because she has shown disinterest into even looking at them. Titus sniffs their feet before barking lightly at the monster. They could only tilt their head and pet the adorable dog.

reader who sticks by wolf in sheep’s clothing. Loving how her human face makes people forget the terrible things she’s done. The no killing rule? Bruce is minding his business, ignoring the crimes of her victims.

reader almost mauling Jason for pulling her back from chowing down on a carcass is something no one wants to see… or know. Cause Jason man handled the monster before their tendrils came out from their back and pinned him down. Thank god Bruce was there to sedate them.

this monster having the most disgusting true form, that even the most nonphased people may even gag and throw up. It’s unsettling….

reader had once used their high heels to stab a guy’s eye in when he tried to follow them. Only to end up missing.

she only uses her tendrils if she needs to apprehend her victims if they are being to hostile or annoying. But she uses them on Damian when he gets too clingy.

Jason mostly using reader for threatening tactics. And it works. WHO wouldn’t be scared of some crazy looking woman who actually shifts her whole body to look mangled and has insanely amount of teeth.

reader being the family’s secret, and if anyone found out and didn’t accept this. They’ll be your supper for later.

Jason who sees her likes for axes, so he bought her a nice pink axe with the sharpest blade of them all. Literally just gets her weapons for Christmas 24/7. Dick also gets her just white dresses, seeing how she likes them.

once showed up to a gala, dressed so nice and preppy, but so elegant at the same time. Sadly, eating someone’s fingers at the gala is not cute.. the monster was banned from galas and had to stay home in a cage til it was over.

Reader who is literally the queen of man eaters. Figuratively and literally.

and before I go, reader hasn’t eaten the family due to loving the free human meat they get from them. They’re sick, sure. But they’re love sick to keep this monster with them.

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messenger-of-babel · 6 months ago

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Shattered

Summary: Bruce isn't sure how to stop breaking things, or how to stop breaking in the process. (Bruce Wayne x reader)

Word Count: 2.0K

Notes: mention of character death.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You wished you could put the pieces back together; you really did.

You wanted nothing more to be able to put the pieces of his heart back together as easily as putting back his mother's vase, which had been the latest victim to his rage. Alfred came to your side, silent but face apologetic as he helped you dust the shards into the pan.

"I really must apologise for Master Bruce's behaviour-" he had started, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"Its fine, Alfred." you smile softly. "I know he's not mad at me, I just got a little spooked is all."

Alfred crinkles his nose at that. "It still doesn't give him the right. I raised him better, to be a gentleman. I know he'd tear himself to pieces if he hurt you too." he sighs. You can only offer a slight smile to the older man, standing with the pan full of shards in your hand. "And to dear Mistress Martha's vase…" he trails off, eyes softening as he looks at the old Wayne heirloom.

"I'll fix it." you say softly, holding the pieces to your chest. Alfred takes it from you, having to pry your fingers off the handle.

"I will," he says softly, wrestling it from your grip. "Just…there's someone else that needs fixing around here, and he surely won't listen to me. Not since I advocated for master Dick when he left."

You squeeze the old man's shoulder comfortingly. "I'll handle it the best I can." You say softly.

“It’d be much appreciated.” The old butler says, relief flickering in his eyes. “He’ll burn himself to nothing at this rate.” He murmurs in concern before taking his leave, and your mournfully gaze at the vase pieces in his hands. If only it could be that easy.

You knew you could only find him in one of the three spots, places that he seemed to frequent the past few months. The first place you could find him if you were looking was his training area down in the cave, covered in sweat and scars, circling a training dummy until he dropped. Before the incident, you would wolf whistle at him with a smile, calling for him to come eat lunch or take you out on a date. Your eyes could freely roam across his body before jumping up to meet the blue of his gaze and the superstar smile he'd send your way, proving his title as the Prince of Gotham. Back when the soul of Bruce Wayne was easier to pry out from under that cowl.

Now he was always circling, round and round like a shark. His feet placed firmly, and muscles tensed before he struck. Struck with more force than you normally saw him hit even outside of training, striking with cold indifference in his eyes, striking until his knuckles bled. He'd be out of breath and a half step away from collapsing, insisting it wasn’t enough despite your soft, kind calling and attempts at ushering him away from the training mats. He'd brush you off, dripping sweat as he got into stance before the poor training dummy again. You could only look onto him sadly, watching him circle it as if it would come to life and jump him any second. You could see past that though. The dummy was just a human torso, grey and plain, but unbeknownst to him you could also see the shadowy ears and cape that hung off the figure, the black mask that leered at him. You didn't need to be a medium to see the way he fought the ghost of himself. The way he was eating himself from the inside.

Even though he may not be wearing his cowl, you didn’t recognise him. The man staring down the dummy with a raging, cold fire in his eyes and lips quirked downwards with pure vitriol, was definitely not your Bruce.

Neither was he when he poured over the film footage from his suit, head in his hands when he thought no one was watching. The few times you did approach him he had tried to be indifferent, meeting you with angry quips and sarcastic comments. You told him he shouldn't watch; it was only traumatising him over and over again. Watching him be too late, reliving the moment of fear in an endless loop wasn’t healthy. He had snapped at you then, telling you that you didn't understand with his jaw clenched so tightly that you thought it was going to snap. "I need to be better." He had told you, tone firm and heavy. "I will be better."

There was very little you could say in response to that, not when you saw the pain burning brightly behind his eyes. The way their faces were scared into his retinas like ghosts, Thomas and Martha Wayne through the lens of young Bruce now joined by the freshly etched visage of poor Jason Todd. The same face riddled with fear in the grainy playback footage, freezing his last moments in place.

Poor, poor, Jason.

You still remembered the night that Bruce came back, with a bundle held in his arms. You hadn't been one to go into the cave normally, but when Alfred came to solemnly collect you and bring you there, you thought your heart had already thudded to your feet. That was nothing to the shock and horror of seeing Jason all torn up, colourful Robin costume barely clinging to the young boy. Alfred had turned your face into his shoulder as you cried, unaware that the echoing scream in the cave was your own. You were inconsolable, unable to even touch the burnt and beaten skin for fear of him falling apart. The fact that both Alfred and Bruce withheld what he had endured prior to the explosion brought bile to your mouth, head reeling with the worst possible ideas, mind imagining the poor teen in scenarios so sick it stung your eyes and made you dizzy. Alfred had told you that it was horrid to repeat, and it’d only bring more pain. Still, you weren’t sure if the truth could be any worse than your nightmares.

Sure, Jason hadn't been your son, but he felt like it. You had chided him like a mother despite not even being married to Bruce, patching up his scrapes and cuts when he came back from patrol with your partner. He’d just laugh it off and give you a boyish smile while he regaled you with his adventure with Batman that night.

"Thanks, Ma." he'd say, flexing whatever part of him you had patched up.

He isn't blood, but he is your son too.

or was.

When you didn't find him in his usual haunts down in the cave, you found him night in your shared bedroom, only the faint moonlight filtering in to the strewn sheets and the sight of him sitting on the bed. "Bruce?" you call softly, but he doesn’t react as you slip into the room. You knew he hadn't meant to thrown things; mind clouded in grief. He hadn't even registered that you were there, evident by the way he was holing himself up in the room away from everyone and the haze that covered his normally bright sclera. He'd become more frequent to these bouts of grief and rage in the latest week, volatile and pushing everyone away to punish himself. You place a hand on his shoulder, and he visibly flinches, making you retract it instantly. For a full tense second, you aren't sure if you should fill the silence, but he beats you to it.

"Leave."

you shake your head. "I'm not leaving, Bruce. I want to help-"

"No, Leave." he stresses, and you can faintly catch onto the hint in his words. Your eyebrows draw together and your mouth goes dry.

"You don't really mean that, you're just-"

"I'm just what?" he snaps back, standing to his full height, coming around in front of you. His glare makes your voice shrivel in your throat as he stares you down. "You shouldn't be around me." he snaps. "When will you learn? That people around me-" he swallows thickly, blinking harshly as his jaw ticks and he turns away. You can fill in the blanks though.

People around me die. People like Jason.

"Bruce," you say gently but firmly. "I'm fine, you're not- and don't even argue." you huff, frustrated as he goes to open his mouth again. "Bruce please, it hurts me to see you like this." you murmur. "You need to talk to me, to Alfred, please-"

"I'll deal with it myself," he hisses out. "I need to stop the Joker. I need to catch him."

I need to make him pay.

"Bruce-"

"No." he says firmly, and there’s a swirl of madness clouded in his eyes when he looks at you. A kaleidoscope of pain that feels like murky waters as you trawl through them for the Bruce Wayne you know. "You don't understand," he says breath ragged. That sends a pang of hurt through you, and you take step back.

"Jason was my son too." you defend painfully. "Don't you dare-"

"He wasn't my son."

that makes you freeze, breath slowing in your chest. "What?"

"He wasn't my son." Bruce grits out again, eyes screwed up almost as tight as his fists by his sides. "He wasn't my son, he was just a Robin, he was just-" he struggles to get the words out, as if they're choking him from the inside. You aren't sure what is worse, the words he's saying or the way you can seem him breaking down in front of you. Like a shattered mirror, unsure whether to reflect back your Bruce or the broken hero.

"You don't mean that-" you say, trying to stop the way your own voice breaks, hating the tears that burn the back of your eyes. "I know you're hurting Bruce. We all are, but don't say that. don't say that he wasn't your son. He thought of you as a father whether you wanted him to or not."

His eyes seem to burn darker every word you say, the way he's on fire from the inside.

"You're hurting," you try to keep your voice steady. "Let me help."

Your hands ached to hold the pieces of his heart like the smashed vase, but this wasn't something you could fix with a little attention to detail and glue. He shook his head at your plea, sighing through his nose. "Leave." he chokes out again.

"I won't." you say firmly.

"Then I will." he snaps back, he turns to grab his coat from the funeral, thrown over the chair by the vanity. "And you better be gone from this manor by the time I'm back."

The burning in your eyes spills over as he brushes past you like he'd never known you, shoulder cold and biting. "I'll call Alfred to help you collect your things. He'll take you back to your old apartment, I bought it so the deed will be transferred back to your name in the next few days." and then he's gone.

You could only watch the retreating form of his back, lip wobbling as you try to keep it steady. He left so quickly you hadn’t even gotten a chance to properly react, to fight with your relationship. He’d cut it in a single blow, actions swift and efficient.

Not like Bruce. Like Batman.

His words to you cut, but you could sense the pain behind those words. You had known him long enough after all, enough to watch his rise and now his downfall as Batman.

I'll leave you before you leave me.

I'll leave before you get hurt.

Before you end up like Jason.

Because I know you will.

As you sit on the bed, shock settling into your bones, you can’t help but wonder who really was caught in the destruction of the bomb back there, and if you had just watched those last pieces of his heart shatter into dust.

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redflagshipwriter · 9 months ago

Text

Mama Bat 9: Dinner Out

masterpost

After her promise, the bats were a whirlwind of activity. He didn’t know where Uncle D or Alfred went, but Cass and Bruce gently bustled him across the house to plan his ecto dinner like it was an attack on an enemy base.

“I think it was around here,” Danny said uncertainly over the map in Bruce’s study. “I don’t know the names of any of these places. But there was this abandoned-looking theme park that had a lot of what I need.”

He didn’t have to be the world’s smartest ghost to recognize that there was a lot of tension in the air after he said that. That tracked. There were not many pleasant ways for a place in the human realm to accumulate a glut of deathly energy.

“That makes sense,” Bruce said. “Cass, honey, do you think we should ask Dick and Jason?” He folded the map back up along the same lines as before without even looking. Danny wondered at why he had that muscle memory. Did he fold everything in the same pattern?

“Big visible muscle,” Cass agreed. Her phone appeared out of nearly nowhere. “Danny.”

He stood up even straighter.

“Is Amity dangerous?” She pinned him in a look, her soft brown eyes arresting. “Dangerous to Jasmine Fenton?”

“Jazz,” he corrected automatically. Cass nodded. He rolled his ankles around, stimming below their line of sight. “Uh.” Danny faltered. “Um.” He bit his lower lip and tried to feel less like there was a painful hand around his heart.

He hadn’t thought so. But he would never have thought that he and Vlad were in serious danger, either. Now that the GIW and Mom and Dad knew… They would know who to ask for more information.

His parents would never push his friends or Jazz too hard. But the idea of the GIW trying to intimidate his friends and family was almost too upsetting to consider.

“Batdad extracts them?” Cass cocked her head at him to make it even more of a question. It was up to him. Was it a good idea?

Danny licked his lips. His mouth was so dry. He struggled for words. “Maybe.” One shaky inhalation. “If, um.” It sounded like someone else’s voice. It couldn’t be him saying that right now. “If it wouldn’t be too obtrusive… I don’t want to extract them and then, like, they can’t go back if they wanna.”

“We can handle that.” Bruce made eye contact to promise. He looked, Danny thought, like a more responsible, boring version of Jack Fenton. His eyes burned.

“That would be, uh. Cool.” Danny managed to get that out and avert his eyes, but he felt like everyone could see that he was about to cry.

Whatever. He leaned to the left before he consciously knew that Cass was lifting an arm to put over his shoulder. It slotted in place like they’d done it a billion times. Danny tilted his head towards the nails she gently scratched through his hair.

“Batdad, Damibat, Timbird, Stephanie,” Cass listed easily. “Amity.” She jostled Danny a little. “And we get dinner. You only need me. I’m the best. But we bring boys too, Dickbird and Jason.” She blew a raspberry.

Bruce looked exhausted and fond. “She is the best,” he agreed. Danny watched their interplay like it was a pingpong match. “I think you ought to go tonight to get something to eat. Would you recommend that we contact Jazz and your friends in the daytime, or should we leave as soon as possible?”

…They all had school in the day. Even Jazz was still in high school. Danny eyed Bruce doubtfully. He did know about school, right? “Night is probably better.”

“I’ll make a few calls.” Bruce sat back and seemed to flip a switch into planning mode.

“Text!” Cass said, disagreeing strongly. She rolled her eyes, but it wasn’t too mean. “Grandfather Bat.”

“Oh!” Danny startled. “Um, I should contact Sam and Tucker. So that they know to expect you.”

Bruce balked. “We don't normally contact civilians about ongoing investigations…” He looked constipated about it.

Danny crossed his arms. He wanted to think it was stubbornness more than self comfort. “You're not going to like, creep up on my friends. If they want to go, they need some time to get ready.”

“Preparing could give away the plan to observers.”

“Is Amity Park Batman's domicile?” Cass asked archly. “Batdad.” She put both her hands on his desk and leaned forward to give her father an unimpressed look. “Mayor of Amity Park?”

Bruce snorted and then covered his mouth guiltily. “Point taken.” He cleared his throat, trying to retain some dignity. “Danny, do you need help to contact your friends?”

He shrugged. “Just a computer.” Danny fiddled with the strings on his hoodie. Tucker's hoodie. “I know you gave me a phone, but we thought -”

“That communications might be intercepted,” Bruce said, nodding as if that kind of paranoia was commonplace. “It's the first thing I would do if I expected a person of interest to contact a friend. What's your workaround?”

Danny bit his lip. It sounded stupid when he said it aloud.

Ten minutes later, Damian joined Cass in her perch on the back of the sofa and watched with morbid curiosity as Danny joined Doomed chatroom after chatroom, scanning for Sam's username. “She’ll leave it running whenever she's home in case I ping her,” Danny defended weakly. He left another chatroom.

Damian hummed, two pitches that came off incredibly doubtful. He had a gift for that.

“No, really, this- yes!” Danny pumped a fist and sent a HEY ITS YA BOI message.

It took seconds for Sam to get to it and add his temporary account as a friend. She sent a DM before he could and then ignored his response to start a voice chat.

Once he'd confirmed to her satisfaction that he was himself and that he hadn't gotten any deader in Gotham, he passed on the information that the friggin Batman was going to stop by Amity and wanted to check in. “But don’t worry, he’s kinda cool,” Danny added. “I gotta go. I am starving.”

Sam said all the rude words that she knew in quick succession. Damian looked sort of impressed. “Fine,” she said, obviously annoyed about it. “I’ll meet with Batman, but only because I hate the GIW more.”

“You hate Batman?” Damian asked. It was hard to tell from his tone if he had any feelings about that.

“That’s Damian,” Danny introduced. “He’s cool.”

“Hey,” Sam said shortly. “Yeah, he’s basically a cop. You have a problem with that?” Her voice went a little too aggressive.

“Just so you know, Damian is a child,” Danny said warily.

Sam scoffed. “You said he’s cool. I respect him enough to fight him if he’s wrong.”

“Batman may be improved by your feedback,” Damian said idly, as if he wasn’t making trouble for his father on purpose. “You should be certain to give it to him as soon as you see him. Do you have time to prepare a presentation?”

Danny sniggered into his hand.

“I can reuse the posterboard from Current Events class, yeah.” Sam mused. “Good idea. Alright, thanks for the heads up. It’s really good to hear from you. We were starting to get worried here. You missed a check in, you know.” She was trying to sound tough, but there was a hint of strain.

Danny flushed. “Yeah, I had logistical difficulties,” he said, which sounded less pathetic than “I got robbed while I was sleeping outside and had no money to use to access a computer.”

He ignored the thoughtful look he knew he was getting from Cass and signed off. He avoided making eye contact with anyone as he stretched, hands over his head. Then Danny put his hands on his hips and kind of stretched by rotating his back around. “Well, that’s done. Have fun with Sam, Uncle D.”

Damian made a hum in the back of his throat, eyes lost in thought. “I think I will.” Then he stalked away without a proper goodbye. Just a big housecat, that kid.

“Do you think Jason and Dick will be here soon?” Don’t ask, don’t ask, Danny silently hoped.

Cass looked at him for a long moment, silently weighing options and odds behind her dark eyes. Then she nodded. She turned on her heel and left, obviously expecting him to follow.

Danny jogged to keep up. How did she move so fast without running? She had short legs, too. He was still busy pondering when they rounded a hallway corner and heard male voices from the entryway.

“Wait.” Cass shoved him the last step with a gentle palm press to the shoulder and then flitted back down the hallway.

“Hey, buddy,” Dick said.

Danny managed a nod in return. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket and tried not to look like he was hiding.

Jason all but oozed reassurance at him, without ever looking at him. As far as the eye could tell, the blonde was barely aware that Danny was present. But under the surface of his skin, his masses of ectoplasm were roiling with a sort of proprietary indulgence.

It was a kindness, probably, that the two men continued their conversation as if they were still alone. Danny didn’t really pay attention, thoughts consumed with a mixture of nerves about his worlds colliding and sobbing relief that he might get really, genuinely full for the first time since he had to run away from Amity Park. He edged a little closer to Jason without thinking about it consciously.

Cass arrived silently. Danny looked up as she entered the room only because he could sense her steady presence. “Time to go,” he said.

Jason startled with a very small jump. His expression instantly changed to exhausted resignation.

“Haha,” Cass said, pointing at him.

“Poor scared little guy,” Dick cooed. “You can’t sneak up on him like that.”

“Too scary,” Cass said, nowhere near as convincing as Dick at empathy.

Jason scowled. “Shut up,” he complained. He zipped up his jacket and yanked the door open. The sound of early crickets immediately cut into the house along with a fresh, cool breeze. “You both suck.”

Danny felt a faint smile pull at his face. He ducked his head and fell in, following at Jason’s heels. He didn’t look back to see who shut the door.

Dick drove them all. They parked a few blocks away and made it across the barren, creepy fairgrounds in utter silence. Danny followed his instincts and the source that he’d sensed from kilometers away in the city center but had been too worn down to even try to trek to without at least feeding his human body.

“So, what now?” Dick turned a cautious circle. “I didn’t exactly expect to see a physical object for you to eat, but I did sort of expect something.”

Danny made a face. “If I had the right tech I could filter and extract it out of the air, condense it into a really dense, liquid form. But, uh.” He turned a little to the side to avoid eye contact and hunched into his hoodie. “I sort of need to just hang out and…filter feed.” He grimaced. He sounded like a dumb fish.

“Inefficient,” Cass observed.

He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m really drained, so I need to be around a high concentration to get a jumpstart. If I needed less, I could probably just…” Danny made a circle gesture and sort of pointed at Jason. “Hang around him, I guess.”

Cass hummed in the back of her throat. “Perimeter.” Then she ran directly at a wall and hefted herself up onto the roof of the derelict funhouse. She was out of sight in seconds, which was impressive athleticism. Danny watched her go with raised eyebrows.

Dick huffed and shuffled even closer to Jason, clearly wary of Cass. “You can’t be the favorite uncle,” he lamented. “That should be me.” Danny choked down a laugh and pretended to be very busy filter feeding.

“You’re just crabby because you aren’t full of delicious ghost juice,” Jason muttered into Dick’s ear at a volume that he clearly thought Danny wouldn’t hear. The banter didn’t stop him from making periodic glances around the area. He caught an elbow to the gut from Dick for the comment and the inattention. Danny took a step further away from jabbing range.

“We aren’t here to hear you brag about how juicy you are,” Dick said out of the side of his mouth.

EW. But Danny felt smug satisfaction in Jason’s aura at that answer, so apparently it wasn’t as nasty sounding to him as it was to Danny. He made a blegh face, scraping his tongue against his teeth.

‘Maybe I should tell them at some point that I have better than human hearing.’ He pointedly wandered a few steps further away and pretended to be occupied with sniffing out the highest concentration of ectoplasm.

Jason grinned unpleasantly. “No, I usually have that conversation with all of your exes- oof.” Jason bent over and tried to breathe through the hit to his diaphragm.

Danny did his best to ignore the commentary from the peanut gallery. He took deep breaths and tried to keep an eye on all the shadows.

Amusement Mile wasn’t saturated with high quality ectoplasm like Amity Park, but nothing ever should be. Danny licked his lips and tried to stay alert. There could be any number of distressed or territorial dead around a place like this. It was eerily still.

“This place is just plain creepy.” Danny hid a shudder. “What happened here?”

Jason huffed a laugh with absolutely no joy in it. “It’s more like what keeps happening here.” Danny glanced over at just the right angle to realize that Jason had a gun in his pocket. Holy shit. A gun. His eyes went wide.

“But nothing should happen tonight,” Dick cut in. His eyes looked tight and tense in a way that his breezy tone didn’t hint at. “The person who likes to use this area as a staging ground is currently in lockup. We double checked before we came out here.”

All three of them tensed when Cass jumped back down off the same building she’d climbed earlier. “Suspicious,” she said flatly.

Dick and Jason instantly lost their facades of ease. Danny realized, a bit late, that this place was really fucking concerning even to the living. “What’s wrong?” Dick snapped out. His posture changed and somehow his shoulders looked broader. Alarmed, Danny glanced between the adults.

“Someone was here.” Cass held up a very familiar piece of tech. “Inside vent.”

Danny felt the blood drain out of his face. Cass zeroed in on the expression. “GIW,” he said. “Uh, that measures… that senses ghosts.” He licked his lips. “I think we should go.”

“Are you- are you going to be hungry?” Jason’s brow furrowed fiercely. “You think they might have an alert that you came out here?”

“We are more capable than we look.” Dick promised. And his serious voice was pretty reassuring, actually, all things considered. But Danny still felt like he was going to be sick.

Tires screeched. It was too late to get out of here.

#red mama bat #dp x dc #dc x dp

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lazycats-stuff · 8 months ago

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Hi, I wanted to ask if you could make a batbro who is a clone of batman and supermam and the batfamily and the superfamily fight over who will get him (you can also make him a few months younger than damian and jon and also a cute moment with families please)

Sure, of course I can. They would totally fight. Absolutely everyone. I'm running out of gif ideas... I don't know what to do anymore... Also, this is under Clark kent masterlist, just to let everyone know... I the batfam list is getting too long... I don't know what to do anymore.

Summary: (Y/N) is a clone of Superman and Batman. Fighting ensues.

Warnings: none really, just a (Y/N) clone, nothing graphic or anything in that matter.

Superman and Batman has found that that Lex Luthor has been making clones, yet again. However, Lex has decided to spice the situation up. How, I might hear you asking? With Conner, Lex only used Bruce's DNA. Aka Batman's. Turns out that the boy was growing up like a normal child, in terms of development. However...

That doesn't mean that his childhood was anything but normal. Bring prodded, examined... Being taught how to use his powers to be a weapon. He wasn't being treated like a normal person, a human, should be treated. The fact that (Y/N) grew up physically like a child, meant that they had more time to manipulate (Y/N).

Bruce was appalled at the news of having a clone made from his own DNA and Clark, however, he was livid when he saw that (Y/N) was growing like a normal child, physically, so that would mean he is young.

Younger then Damian and Jon... Bruce nearly exploded with anger once he saw (Y/N), so young, so afraid... Damian was older by a couple of months. Superman was disgusted by Lex Luthor and has vowed to bring him down somehow. No matter what it took. And it tugged at his heart too. Jon was also a few months older than (Y/N).

Both fathers saw red. Pure and utter red. Clones are still human beings... Seeing (Y/N) so afraid, utterly terrified of them... Bruce, despite his code, wanted to rip Lex's throat out. He really wanted to. Clark was no better either.

Thankfully, karma has hit Lex. Bruce and Clark woke up in their respective cities on morning, when the breaking news hit. Bruce was confused. Crime in Gotham happen during the night. Rarely during the day. Only if it's something that involves the Justice League.

So, Bruce was curious and decided to watch the news.

Tax invasion. Damn tax evasion. And a whole lot more of financial crimes. Bruce had to sit down in the living room, on his arm chair.

" Who would have thought... The bastard is also greedy. " Jason mutter from the kitchen, sipping some coffee to fully wake up.

" Deja vu of Al Capone. Couldn't get Lex on meta human trafficking and what not, but on finances. " Tim said and Dick chuckled at the comparison. Al Capone, a big mafia boss, brought down by the all mighty IRS. And now Lex too.

" It seems so. These are nice news, " Damian said as he sipped his tea.

" I agree Damian. This is a nice way to actually start your morning... Did Titus eat? " Bruce asked, bringing his mug up to sip his coffee.

" Yup. He is now out and about playing with Pennyworth, " Damian said, referencing the cat, not the person.

" Okay. " Bruce then stood up, cracking his neck. " I'm going to the League, I need to check on (Y/N) and how he is doing. And don't worry, we are having our movie night. " Bruce reassured everyone as he finished his coffee and put it in the sink for Alfred.

" How is he doing anyway? " Jason asked and Bruce shrugged his shoulders.

" We are trying our best, but he is still scared. " Bruce explained and everyone nodded.

" That's no surprise. " Damian said as he finished up his tea. Bruce nodded, getting ready to leave the room.

" Please don't fight. Any of you. " Bruce said before he left the room, making everyone chuckle.

" (Y/N) is staying with us Bruce! End of the discussion! " Clark raised his voice, making Bruce scoff. It's been a few weeks since Lex Luthor was arrested and (Y/N) has been doing much better, so much so that there was a big difference. And it was noticeable. (Y/N) talked more, tried to smile more...

Everyone stepped up for him and tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Once (Y/N) got better in every aspect of that word, talks about where he would live after he was stable enough to be released. At first it started objectively, but as time passed, both families have gotten attached.

And that's why this argument was going on.

On one side, you have Clark and his 'Superfamily' on one side and you have Batman and his 'Batfamily.' Both patriarchs of the families argued with everything in them, trying to keep (Y/N) with them. Conner and Jon were ready toe to toe with the bat boys and vice versa.

" What can you do to help him? And if you bring up Conner as experience in clones, I'm going to use Kryptonite on you and make sure you can't get out of bed for the next 10 years! I know all of your weak spots! " Bruce threatened making Clark scoff.

" Oh please, I know all of your weak spots too! (Y/N) would benefit more in Metropolis than Gotham! More so on in our household! Your boys fight every chance they get! "

Bruce and Clark continued to bicker, both of them standing their grounds. The 'bat boys' glared at Clark and Damian was ready to fight with Jon. The other 3 were ready to take Conner on.

" What's going on? " (Y/N) asked as he came in, hearing all the commotion, even from the hall. Everyone froze and started acted friendlier, not as if they were just arguing like cats and dogs.

" Nothing, we are just talking about where you should live. " Bruce explained and (Y/N) nodded.

" Do you have a preference? About where you want to live? With me or Bruce? " Clark asked and (Y/N) tilted his head, clearly thinking about it.

(Y/N) loved them both equally. He was not really sure with whom he wanted to live with.

" What about I spend some time with one and some time with another? " (Y/N) proposed and everyone stopped for a second to think.

That isn't a bad idea.

" Paired with his online schooling once he starts... I like it. " Clark said and Bruce nodded, also agreeing with this idea.

" Good thinking (Y/N). " Bruce said. Clark and Bruce could work around this. The best option would be 6 months with Clark and 6 months with Bruce.

" How about a group hug? " (Y/N) suggested, making everyone jump in, ready to hug it out. Bruce and Clark joined last, hugging their boys too.

" Why didn't we think of this idea? " Clark asked and Bruce chuckled.

" Because we are idiots apparently. " Bruce answered and both chuckled.

" I guess we are. " Clark confirmed.

" Yeah, you are. " (Y/N) chimed in, making everyone laugh. " You could have just asked me what I preferred. " (Y/N) said and everyone nodded.

" I guess we should have. " Bruce said, reaching to pat (Y/N)'s head.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader #superman x male reader #clark kent x male reader

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aurumacadicus · 4 days ago

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Lol. Lmao even.

"So, what does a typical Avengers meals look like?" the interviewer asks, smile wide and mean.

Steve hates these types of questions. Everyone knows he and Thor eat like horses. There are pictures of them with their own table laden with food after really strenuous battles while the rest of the team sit at a different one floating all over the internet. Sometimes Bruce joins them, if he'd been Hulked out for a long time.

It's a question to shame Natasha and Tony. It always is, no matter how sincerely the interviewer smiles or insists it's just to see that they're real people. No one gives Steve side-eye when he talks about eating three bagels smothered in lox and cream cheese, but if Natasha mentions ice cream, there are half a dozen articles about how that ice cream goes straight to her thighs. Tony gets pitying looks for trying to keep up with a literal god and the peak of human perfection as he's told he's looking great--for a man his age.

Clint seemed to fly under the radar. He used to gloat, until Bruce had snapped that it was probably because there was a webpage dedicated to pictures of him crawling out of dumpsters during battle after a particularly vicious interviewer had asked Tony if he worried about getting too fat for his suit, and left Natasha visibly rattled when asked if she was taking steroids to stay in shape. He'd apologized immediately after, but Clint had stopped taking joy in being the disaster Avenger when Natasha and Tony started glancing at watches with smiles growing more plastic by the second.

Steve has half a mind to tell the interviewer they all eat protein-filled gruel designed by SHIELD just to get her attention away from them, but Natasha had scowled at him the last time he'd tried to stage a rescue in front of cameras, and he'd taken it as the warning to back off that it was.

"I've gotten real into smoothies," Tony answers, and he actually sounds enthused. "And Natasha's my willing guinea pig. These heathens," he adds, waving at the rest of them. "Wouldn't know a good flavor profile if their lives depend on it."

"He's figured out a chocolate and almond butter recipe with coconut water that tastes just like an Almond Joy," Natasha adds approvingly.

Steve watches the interviewer's face twist with fake sympathy as she winces and hisses through her teeth, hand clenching into a fist on his thigh. He just has to let this happen, he reminds himself. Then they can go home and he can remind Tony and Natasha that they are probably the healthiest normal people in all of SHIELD. Maybe Tony will make that protein-packed smoothie that tastes just like caramel apple pie for him that is probably supposed to embarrass him but he actually really likes.

"Ooh," the interviewer says with another wince. "But aren't smoothies just full of sugar? Wouldn't it be better to eat whole fruit?"

Natasha raises an eyebrow. She opens her mouth, but closes it again when she notices that Tony is openly gawking at the woman like she's personally reached over and slapped him. She leans back in her seat, brows furrowing together as she clearly tries to puzzle out why he looks so shocked.

Tony blinks, once, hard, before he says, "I used to do cocaine, Christine. I think a little sugar from fruit juice is fine."

There's a brief pause as the words sink in, and then Clint spews the water he'd been nervously gulping, and Bruce starts howling with laughter, and it pretty effectively ends the interview there, because no one has heard Bruce laugh that hard outside of the tower and Natasha looks seconds away from guffawing as well.

#ideas #team as family #tw: drugs #they go home and tony makes smoothies for everyone while still somewhat bewildered #he is genuinely confused as to how him drinking fruit smoothies is any worse than doing cocaine for 15 years #like yeah his body is falling apart but not because he enjoys a glass of fruit juice and pulverized ice

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astermagnolia · 11 days ago

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My Stalkers and Cryptids Soulmate Au headcanons

Timothy Drake-Wayne

• hes half-vietnam on his mothers side (based on that one fanart of Vietnamese Tim cause the artist is Vietnamese. I cant find it though :(( )

- unfortunately, because his parents traveled a lot and didn't stick around for very long either, Tim isn't super connected to his culture and traditions.

- he does try learning on his own through the Internet but its not the same. He does learn the language though! Its the very first language he learns.

• hes bisexual and demiboy and goes by he/they

• he was not in any sports but did sign up for self defense classes and learned how to skateboard

• Bernard convinces Tim to go to college so hes majoring in business and minoring in photography

- he told Bruce what he was doing and Bruce was absolutely ecstatic to hear that. He was worried for Tim not having a life outside the vigilante stuff so he happily took control over wayne enterprises again if it meant that Tim would go to college/University

• tim is 5'6 making him the shortest out of all of them (wes is 6'0, danny is 6'3, and Bernard is 5'9)

• he is very much touch starved and it took a while for him to get used to all the hugging, touches, and just generally being so close to another person.

- once he does get used to all of that, he ends up being the little spoon. And by that i mean he just starfishes on the bed and lets whoever fets to the bed first to cuddle up to him.

- He definitely does have a time limit for how long they can hug him though. But if he initiated the hug then it can last a long while

• obviously Tim can stay up for hours if not days for cases and other things (he practically lives off coffee, something Bernard has been trying to stop) but he also has the ability to just... sleep anywhere. And i mean anywhere. He once fell asleep on a freaking rollercoaster

• hes a monster fucker.

- no i will not clarify.

• he has trackers on all his partners and a special tracker for danny since they dont really work around him

- he absolutely asked before hand and had a whole ass presentation as to why he should be able to track them and their vitals (at the end it said that it was completely fine if they didnt want to go along with it)

- Bernard understood. Hes lived in Gotham so he understands. (He was also kidnapped by a cult once. Once was enough)

- Wes was excited that he wasn't the only "stalker" in the relationship.

- Danny–i was already stalked once by a soulmate who was trying to out me as a half ghost vigilante–F̶e̶n̶t̶o̶n̶ Nightingale: yeah sure. It's happened before. I think its kinda romantic now

• he will set loose his partners if it means he gets to fuck with people. Danny being the future ghost king while Wes being extremely liminal means he has above human strength, slightly glowing eyes, and is far more silent than a normal person should (both also have an "off putting aura" that sort of freaks people out). Bernard just freaks people out by knowing things he shouldn't (thanks to his partners)

• he adores the nicknames from his partners. He got 'birdy' from Bernard, 'timmy' (and other versions of tim) from Wes, and ducky/darling/starlight from danny

• his romance language is knowing every single little thing about his partners. Like he has a binder each for his partners.

• Forgets to eat and drink unless something is placed directly in front of him by Bernard or Wes

• Has a special mug that he drinks his coffee out of that was given to him by Bernard when they were friends in highschool, any other mug is wrong

• once it's out that Danny is half ghost and can travel through portals, Tim begs Danny to portal him anywhere just cause.

- it got to a point that Danny made/found a ring that can create portals and gave it to Tim

• definitely, 100%, doesn't have plans for world domination, whaaaat?

•definitely, 100%, doesn't like to be pampered by his partners and just his partners. You're absolutely insane to think that. Crazy talk

#dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #dpxdc #danny fenton #tim drake #bernard dowd #wes weston #stalkers and cryptids #bisexual #demiboy #tim drake x bernard dowd #tim drake x wes weston #tim drake x danny fenton #headcanon #tim drake headcanon

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smilesheartshugs · 5 months ago

Text

Halloween AU pt.2

A continuation of:

Tim centric

It’s been four months since his parents were last home. About a month since he ran out of food. Three days ago the water faucets stopped working. Good news! His parents should be home soon! They promised they’d be home for his birthday! It’s his birthday tomorrow so his parents must be home soon! Until then he’ll wait in his safe spot. Years ago he had found a hollowed out section of wall in his closet. He can hear everything in the house from that spot. It’s also the warmest spot in the house. Especially when he moves the boxes to block the draft from entering his little budding spot. With the heater broken durning the unusually cold weather, the isolation of the walls keep his little hiddy hole warm. With nothing else to distract himself from his thirst and hunger, he might as well take a nap until his parents return home.

When Tim wakes up he’s face to face with his own body. Fear and confusion runs through him. What is he going to do when his parents get home?

He fazes through everything instead of touching it. At least he doesn’t feel hungry any more.

It’s another two months before his parents return home. With that time was able to practice picking things up and interact with the tangible world. If he didn’t know he was dead he would think he was still apart of the living.

After helping his parents unpack the first thing he says is “I died while you where away”

“Don’t be ridiculous Timothy you’re just fine. Obviously you’re standing right here” his mother responds

“No im a ghost!” Tim insisted

“There’s no such thing as ghost sport cease this game at once” his father answers

“No really my body is in my closet!”

The family argues back and forth for a bit which Jack and Janet believing Tim to be playing a game. They angrily look in his closet only to not see his body. After all it’s in the hidden hiddy hole in the very back behind some of the boxes. His parents leave before time could move the boxes out of the way. His body is certainly worse for wear. Areas have puffed up in some spots while other areas of flesh has melted away. When he first woke up after dieing his body only looked like it was asleep, now it looks like it belongs in a zombie movie.

Three years later

Jack and Janet are disappointed that Tim hasn’t grown any, he makes a shrimp ten year old. Tim has stopped insisting that he’s dead. The creative punishment his parents dish out has long made him stop wanting to prove his death.

Tim still checks on what’s left of his body, it’s mostly bone now, but it’s proof he’s not crazy and that he really did die. He watched as his flesh slowly rotted away.

He’s made friends with the Waynes, they think he’s a normal human boy, all be it a bit small. He learns that other undead creatures exist, as well as other hunting beings. Jason is another undead, though he got to keep his original body. He was murdered by a clown about a year after Bruce took him in. No one has seen the clown since then though. Tim suspects that the clown may have been one of the goul’s first meals that the werbat provided. That would explain why Jason was so quick to forgive Bruce and why the clown hasn’t been seen again.

Jason brings a lot of raw meat for his school lunches, usually beef or lamb. Though recently it’s been a lot more lamb than cow, Tim wonders why that’s the case.

One day Jason drags Tim back to Wayne manor under the guise of studying for their upcoming test together. Tim was quick to bond with the rest of the family. He’s felt more at home here than he’s ever felt back in drake manner. It doesn’t take long until Tim becomes a regular guest at Wayne manor.

Even though he doesn’t need to eat, Tim never turns down a meal. In fact, he’s almost always snacking on something. Even on those cardboard cookies no one likes. Well it might be more accurate to say he doesn’t physically need to eat. He gets anxious if he hasn’t had any thing to eat for a while. It’s nice of the Wayne’s to bring him all these extra snacks though!

Two years later

Tim is a regular fixture in Wayne manor. After finding out how often his parents are away they insisted that he’d stay with them.

This brings us to the current problem. Cass needs to cast a protection charm on the manner, a ward agent an evil cult. Unfortunately there’s one ingredient that Cass can’t get her hands on.

“A bone of an unburied one freely given.”

What this means is that she needs a bone of someone who hasn’t had a funeral, which means she can’t just buy one off of a donated body. Stupid old spells with stupid specific unwritten rules that make more sense or the time period it was written in and not modern day. She also can’t look for lost hikers in the woods because they can’t give consent to being in the spell.

But Tim could help! He’s never had a funeral, and he’s here to give his consent for using his bones! It’s a win win!

While the older Wayne’s were trying to figure out how the spell would work with some from if substitute Tim convinces Jason to come help him get something from his bedroom back in drake manor.

“So what are we grabbing baby bird?” Jason asks Tim

“You’ll see when we get there” Tim replies. He’s learned that he can’t convince people he’s dead. He learned that the hard way.

“Okay okay but why am I bringing a box again?”

“My boxes are all stained”

Tim brings Jason to his closet where he moves those old boxes out of the way.

“Baby bird what is this?” Jason asks a little freak out about the skeleton in the closet.

“The missing ingredient for cass’s spell!” Tim answers cheerfully.

“Tim, we can’t use this with out their permission, why do you have a corps in your closet?” Jason is freaking out that there’s a dead person in the baby bird’s closet and he doesn’t know how it got there.

“No im giving you permission to use it!”

“Tim you can’t give permission for someone else’s body”

“No! Jason you don’t understand! I’m giving you permission to use it!” Tim has frustration tears in his eyes.

That’s how Jason found out that his baby bird was dead, be the looks of it he’s been dead for a while.

“Now help me bring it to Cass?”

#batfam #batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #damian wayne #tim drake angst #angst #Tim angst #Bruce Wayne #Robin #dc robin #dc Red Robin #Red Robin #bat man fanfiction #batman fanfiction #fanfiction

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 11 months ago

Text

V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. “Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

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ultimate-marysue · 4 months ago

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My personal body headcanons for the Batfam

Bruce: He is a tank made of pure muscle. Like many other users have put forward (recommend especially @frownyalfred posts on the matter), that's not an easy feat to pull off. It is a testament to Bruce's willpower and dedication to Batman that he's even able to maintain it. Also, I think he took really good care of his scars in the beginning so they would be as inconspicuous as possible when sleeping around as Brucie. Once he gets older and leans more into the father persona he stops caring as much for anything that's going to be covered by his suits and shirts.

Barbara: I hated the fact that her disability got completely erased, so that's the first difference. If you want to have her be Batgirl again, you should do what Gotham Knights did and make it so there are lasting effects and limitations. I'm sorry, but it feels so cheap to me that they just erased disability rep cause they didn't know how to write a strong disabled woman. Skill issue. Also Barbara is built like a brick in my heart of hearts, she's a rectangle with the density of a neutron star. I also think she has one of the healthiest and normal diets of the Bats, mainly cause the physical requirements of Oracle aren't nearly as demanding.

Dick Grayson: I'm not going to reinvent the wheel here by saying Dick Grayson has the perfect acrobat's body. My headcanon is that he gets it naturally. Not that he can just do whatever you want, sadly with their line of work you need to meet a series of requirements. I mean it in the sense of 1) proportions 2) really high metabolism from constant exercise since he was a child, probably the fastest tied with Cass 3) he doesn't need to work out as much outside patrol as the rest to keep his body mass. Every single robin after him low-key hates him for creating a fighting style that only he can do effortlessly.

Cassandra Cain: like mother like daughter, my girl is thick. None of that waifish, delicate ballerina shit. She's short and she has muscles most humans haven't heard of. Average goon tries to knock this 5 feet nothing girl only to be met by an unmovable object. Also, probably contender for top most scarred bat of all. She just looks like she could fuck your shit up without breaking a sweat and that's probably because she could. Also I think she has short legs, giving her an even lower center of gravity. She's just a brick wall.

Jason Todd: my man is one of the few bitches in this family with a normal, healthy, percentage of body fat. He's built like a strong man instead of a body builder, and the fact that he can be sneaky with all that mass is terrifying. I think for a minute there he wondered what he was doing wrong and why he didn't look as lean as Bruce. Then he figured what Bruce had to do to keep Batman's body in line and Jason said "fuck that, I'm not doing all that". In his villain self destructive era that waist was snatched, but the second he started taking actual care of his body it did what body's do. Considering how he mixes so many fighting techniques I can see him building his fighting style around his needs instead of the other way around.

Steph: she's the curviest of the Batgirls, which is why she favors so much the "indistinct blob" silhouette. As any woman with a boobs size above an B cup will tell you: people get disgusting really quick. I think part of her struggles with Robin was trying to wrangle her developing body into a fighting style designed for a very naturally lean boy. Balancing is harder when you have a large set of bazonkers, they don't tell you this in the comics but it is the truth. She also lacks the super fast metabolism other Bats have, and I can see her trying really hard to fit in the mold only to realize as she grows older that she can do her own thing.

Tim: I think Tim, growing up as society kid and then forcing himself into the Robin role, never learned what eating healthy is. I headcanon him having some sort of ED (I think he would evolve through a few of them as he grew up), not because I like throwing angst at characters (though I do) but because it makes sense to me giving his background and personality. EDs are not only about "looking thin", but also about feeling in control. Also, Tim hanging onto the Robin title reminds me of child actors trying to force their developing body's to stop at a kid size so they can keep playing their character. I could write a whole post about it, but for what's relevant, the ED headcanon doesn't mean Tim is just super thin. I think his body is fluctuates the most out of any of the Bats, depending on where he's at mentally and age wise.

Duke Thomas: my boy is built for parkour. He's got the longest limbs in the family, he's got the reach. He keeps waiting for puberty to hit him like a train and give him Jason/Bruce levels of muscle mass, but he's just too tall. Like, yes, he can bench press Jason, but proportionally he's so much taller than all of them by then he just looks noodly. When he puts on the body armor though he makes Batman look like a Barbie doll. Anytime he's looming about, Jason accuses him of overcompensating. Duke just pretends to not be able to hear him from up above. Also pls DC give him long hair that floats around him in the same way Batman's cape does?? Pls, just give him magic girl hair that defies gravity.

Damian: I've said this before but this poor child grew up being told he'd one day be as huge as his dad but grows up to be Talia 2.0. I think he does inherit Bruce's height, but is distraught to never be hulking mountain of muscle like OG Batman. Little does he know Bruce isn't naturally that big either, and it's only through frankly unhealthy means he maintained that body. Everyone else agrees to never tell Damian about it so he won't even think to try it, and instead focus on reassuring him he's more than strong enough to inherit the title if that's what's bothering him. It ends up playing in his favor, Cass is proof that you don't need to be huge to instill the fear of God into people. And the way he moves, like a panther stalking his prey, is more than enough to make the rogues quake.

#batfam #batfamily #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #Cassandra Cain #duke thomas

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in1-nutshell · 8 months ago

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I know I just made a request that is similar but Can I request a scenerio where the batfamily have the buddy with the symbiote living at Wayne manor basically becoming adopted by Bruce? They do their best to protect the innocent and somehow become well acquainted with some of the roughs like harley quinn, poison ivy, and even killer croc.

More Venom Buddy!

Hope you enjoy!

Bat Buddy with Symbiote with Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, and Killer Croc

SFW, Platonic, Slight Familial, Human reader

BATFAMILY

Buddy was adopted by Bruce before they bonded with Venom.

They had been training to be a hero with Batman before a certain field trip left them with a friend for life.

Well, it didn’t start that way with the side effect of the bond showing first.

It took the combined efforts of Dick, Barabra, Jason, Tim, Stephanie, Duke and Damian for Bruce to realize something was wrong with Buddy.

When Bruce got out a needle to take a blood sample, Venom mistook this as an act of violence and ‘defended’ his host.

After a lot of screaming and yelling later, Buddy is explaining how they got bonded with Venom.

The symbiote perched on their shoulder giving Bruce the stink eye.

It took time for the Batfamily to get used to the new normal with Buddy, yet they knew that they would still be a bit of an outlier amongst them.

Thankfully they found friends in unlikely places.

Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy

The three of them had a pretty good relationship before they had bonded with the symbiote.

Buddy liked hanging out with the pair after patrol if they promised not to create big disturbances.

The pair was probably one of the first to notice Buddy’s body changes when they were first bonded with Venom.

Harley cupping Buddy’s face: “Geez hun, you look sick.” Buddy gently pushing her hands off their face: “Its fine Harley.” Harley: “Maybe take some meds, get some sun and eat a bit more.” Harley looks at Buddy worriedly: “You’re growing a bit too thin Bud, your still growing!” Ivy handing Buddy a couple of fruits: “Eat these now. Then we talk about your diet, I can smell the tater tots and chocolate from your jacket.” Buddy stuffing their face with an orange: “Not my fault they taste so good…”

It was a little while later that Buddy decided to trust the antihero duo with Venom’s secret and new alias.

Yes, they were freaked out a bit.

Yes, Harley threatens Venom if he ever hurts their favorite Bat.

Ivy wanted to find out a safe way to get Venom and Buddy separated without killing the other.

A week later the four of them are having a movie night, face masks, popcorn bowls, face masks (yes, they somehow managed to get one on Venom), LOADS of chocolate, and fluffy blankets and matching PJ’s.

Buddy sandwich between Harley and Ivy while Venom’s head was happily getting fed chocolate by Harley

He denies any purring.

If Venom heard that the pair was in trouble, he would immediately take over and come to their rescue, not that Buddy would have much to say about it.

Killer Croc

Waylon was a special case.

Buddy had a ‘bad habit’ as their siblings would say, of visiting some of the asylum patients by themselves.

Venom would later agree with them once he found out about this habit.

They had made it their mission to make sure that the villains were getting proper treatment and the help they needed.

Croc was one of the harder patients to crack.

But they made sure to always visit him whenever they had the chance to go into the asylum.

Croc soon began to look forward to their little meetings.

Knew right off the bat that something was wrong with Buddy when they first came to him after bonded with Venom.

Killer croc looking at a pale and exhausted Buddy. Killer croc: “You okay kid? You look dead.” Buddy nervously laughing: “I’ve been worse Waylon. I’m fine.” Killer croc: “You look anything but fine. You sure that you don’t have a parasite--” Venom coming from Buddy’s shoulder: “PARASITE!?” Killer croc jumping a few feet back: “GEEZ!” Buddy rubbing their head: “Here we go again…”

After a lot of talking, persuasion and promises of another 2 boxes of chocolate, Venom calmed down enough to explain with Buddy their new relationship.

Croc was worried about Buddy even more now.

What if their family found out?

What if some scientist did?

Or the government?

Or worse… Amanda Waller finding out.

He lets them know right off the bat that if they ever needed a place to lay low that to come to him no matter what was after them.

While also threatening Venom and making him promise to keep them safe.

There was a lot of hostility between Croc and Venom for a while, until the two started talking.

They could agree on two things.

Humans and heroes sucked sometimes.

And they needed to protect Buddy.

#dc #dc comics #venom #batfamily x reader #batfamily #harley quinn x platonic reader #poison ivy x platonic reader #killer croc x platonic reader

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theomencometh · 9 months ago

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okay i've had this scene from an au stuck in my head recently so here's 3k of timkon identity shenanigans where kon has been recently taken in by luthor for nefarious reasons and is forced to attend a gala where tim and bruce show up. robin hasn't revealed his identity to the team yet even though they've been friends for years. canon/timeline has been put in a blender and liquified.

Kon takes a deep breath in through his nose, holding it for a few seconds before slowly letting it out of his mouth. It’s a technique that Robin taught the team when he was trying desperately to get them on a more bat-approved training regime, including meditation and an acrobatics routine that Nightwing allegedly used on the Teen Titans years ago. Kon is fully aware that he’s got weird stuff going on with his body’s organs and systems compared to humans, but the slow, rhythmic breathing still brings comfort and helps center him, slowing everything down enough so he no longer feels like he’s going to accidentally fry someone with his heat vision.

He tugs at the collar of his dress shirt, gulping and taking a deep breath again. The shirt and tie feels so much more restrictive than his Superboy uniform, tightening like a noose around his neck, and the inflexibility of the suit coat makes him feel like a stiff, awkward mannequin.

“Stop that,” Luthor says, putting a heavy hand on his shoulder. Kon immediately stills, straightening and trying to relax at the same time.

“These people are vultures,” Lex says, voice low. Kon tries to focus his super hearing on him, rather than the woman with the loud laugh across the ballroom or the clink of glasses down the hall where the staff is continuously loading and unloading equipment. He can hear the steady beat of Lex’s heart, the rhythmic whoosh of air traveling in his lungs, the slight gurgle of his stomach (gross!). Kon decides he doesn’t like listening to Lex Luthor very much.

“Remember what I told you,” Lex is still saying. “Be on your best behavior. Today is about getting your name and your face out there. Be polite, but not a pushover. Never let them see weakness.”

Kon forcibly bites back the retort that his only weakness is kryptonite and makes himself nod instead.

Luthor leads him over to a group of people with his hand still clamped on Connor’s shoulder like a shackle. From there, it’s an exhausting parade of schmoozing with millionaires and billionaires, shaking hands firmly (but not too firmly!), laughing at unfunny jokes, and pretending that he loves dear old Dad instead of wanting to punt him through the nearest wall.

Kon is charming. He knows this. It’s something that he’s known since he freshly came out of a test tube, and it’s something that he’s perfected with smiles and body language and a well-placed word or phrase. Kon can get most people eating out of his hand with barely any effort, but it’s usually normal people a little closer to his age, not rich, egotistical, out-of-touch old people who want to pinch his cheeks but absolutely cannot be allowed to due to his invulnerable skin. Kon forgets everyone’s name almost as soon as he hears it, clutching his flute of sparkling cider like a lifeline (but not hard enough to shatter).

Kon doesn’t know how long he gets paraded around as Luthor’s newest pet, but it feels like forever. Everyone talks around where he’s been for the past 17 years of his life (nonexistent and then in a lab and then gallivanting around with superheroes and then, finally, as of two month ago a little farm in Kansas until Lex Luthor uprooted everything with a few well-placed threats), and Kon lets Lex tell the cover story about how he didn’t find out about Connor until recently, but he’s happy to be reunited with his son now.

Son. Connor isn’t anyone’s son. He was maybe getting to be a family member to the Kents finally, but Luthor threw a wrench into all of that.

Connor had a room at the farm. He had a chore list to do and homemade meals to eat, and Clark has finally stopped flinching when he sees him. Clark grinned at him the other day, not his public smile or a small, polite thing, but an actual, honest to goodness grin. Connor bets he can kiss that goodbye now, just like he can kiss goodbye ever knowing Robin’s real identity, because there’s no way that Batman will let him tell Kon now that Kon is semi-legally under the guardianship of a supervillain, and just like there’s no way that Kon can have anything remotely resembling a normal teenage experience as the ward of a billionaire and forced showpony, and just like–

“I’ll be damned,” Lex breathes next to him, interrupting Kon’s spiral. Kon follows his gaze to the entrance of the ballroom, ears picking up the loud, boisterous laugh of Bruce Wayne clapping someone on the back a little too forcefully. Kon has never seen Bruce Wayne in person, but he’s difficult to miss in the papers, especially with how often he finds himself in trouble. Robin has told him of a few instances when he or one of the other Gotham vigilantes has had to rescue him, and Kon knows that Lois interviewed him once and Clark has informally run into him at a gala such as this.

Clark says he tried really hard to be the journalist from the Planet here tonight once Lex demanded that Connor be there, but it was too late notice. Neither Clark nor Lois are among the reporters clustered in the corner. Kon is alone.

“He didn’t RSVP,” Lex says, miffed. Kon immediately likes Bruce Wayne significantly more because of it. “Oh, and he brought a friend.”

Kon peers around the crowd that has quickly amassed around Gotham’s favorite billionaire and finally spots the person Bruce Wayne has a hand on the shoulder of. It’s a teenage boy, dressed in a dark suit with dark hair parted in the middle to keep it out of his eyes. He’s slight, but not skinny, and he’s not overly tall, probably closer to Robin or Bart’s height than Connor’s. He doesn’t show any signs of discomfort at the press of adults around him, offering polite handshakes and letting the women kiss his cheeks the way some of them have tried with Kon. Bruce doesn’t stray far, taking the boy with him when they finally finish with the crowd near the door and head to the bar. The boy doesn’t seem to mind the attention. Kon, however, does not appreciate the tone of voice that Lex used when he said friend. He’s ready to do some superheroing if he needs to.

“Let’s go,” Lex says, putting his hand on Connor’s shoulder again to steer him through the crowd. “Let me handle Bruce Wayne. The kid is Timothy Drake. He recently became the head of his parent’s company when his father died. This is the first time he’s been seen at an event since the death. Bruce is almost certainly going to adopt him. Timothy stayed with him when Jack Drake was in a coma, plus he has the dark hair and light eyes and Brucie favors in his kids. He’s your focus for the rest of the night. Forget about everyone else.”

“Lex! I didn’t know you’d be here, you old dog!” Bruce calls before Connor has time to process all of that, slinging an arm around Luthor’s shoulders and seemingly crushing all of the air out of him in less than a second.

“It’s my party,” Lex wheezes.

“Good thing I’m here to liven it up, eh?” Bruce asks, elbowing Luthor in the ribs.

Kon really hopes that Bruce Wayne’s obsession with dark haired, light eyed boys is an innocent coincidence, because he doesn’t want to apprehend him for being a pedophile when he’s pissing Lex off so easily.

“Hello, Timothy,” Luthor greets, holding out his hand. Bruce pouts at being ignored while Timothy shakes politely. “May I just say, it’s refreshing to see you out and about. I’m sure running your parent’s company is stressful all by yourself.”

Timothy tilts his head, reminding Connor vaguely of a bird.

“I’m happy to do it,” he says, polite but firm. “It’s what my parents would have wanted, and they left things well organized for me.”

“And I suppose Bruce here has been giving you advice?”

“Now Lex,” Bruce says, wagging his finger at him, “you know that’d be a conflict of interest. Besides, Tim could run circles around me. I should be asking him for advice!”

Connor feels his eyes start to glaze over as Luthor and Bruce volley back and forth, seemingly forgetting that he’s even there. Having Lex’s attention off of him and on someone else is a much needed break, so he’s not about to complain, but it’s also really fucking rude. Connor hasn’t even been introduced to these two.

Timothy catches his eye, sweeping his gaze over to Luthor and Bruce and rolling his eyes. Connor smirks. Timothy raises an eyebrow and Connor mirrors him, just a slight quirk.

Timothy looks pretty nice, up close. His eyes are the promised light blue, but his dark eyelashes are long and thick, framing them beautifully. He’s pale, almost reflective in the glittering chandelier light, and he carries himself with a self-assuredness that Connor envies in this environment. The suit fits him really nicely, hugging his shoulders and accenting his trim waist and long legs. When he raises his flute to take a sip of the drink inside, Kon finds himself tracking the liquid as it disappears past his pale pink lips, his throat flexing as he swallows.

He’s not bad to look at. He could easily turn out to be dull as a brick or a total douchebag, but so far first impressions are good.

“And who is this young man?” Bruce asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Luthor puts a hand on his back to push him forward a step, and Kon doesn’t have to move, but Lex is going to be mad if he doesn’t and the situation is delicate.

“This is my son, Connor,” Luthor introduces. Kon offers his hand with his most charming smile.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking first Bruce’s hand (better grip than he expected) and then Timothy’s (rougher than he thought it’d be, skin warm).

“Son, eh? He must take after his mother!” Bruce laughs. Lex’s face pinches, but Connor doesn’t have a chance to relish in it before Bruce is sweeping Luthor away with another arm around his shoulder, talking loudly about secret children and parenting hacks. Luthor tries to protest, but it’s quickly drowned out by Bruce, and he doesn’t have a chance to so much as glance back at Connor before they’re swallowed by the crowd.

Kon blinks.

“Bruce will keep him busy for a while, sorry,” Timothy says, not sounding very sorry. He takes another sip from his glass, then leans in. Cologne tickles Connor’s nose.

“Hold your drink by the stem, not the glass,” he says quietly. “It’s supposed to keep your drink from getting warm, an old etiquette thing. It’s small, but it’ll help you blend in a little more.”

Kon looks around the room, taking in the people with flutes like him and where they’re holding it. The majority are holding the stem, and the ones that aren’t are people that Luthor hasn’t bothered to introduce him to yet. Kon adjusts his grip accordingly, off-balance and embarrassed.

“Thanks,” he says. Timothy tilts his head.

“You want to get some air? There’s a balcony over there. Your father will be able to find you easily once Bruce releases him.”

“Yes,” Kon agrees immediately. He’s used to not fitting in, but having the eyes of so many judgy rich people on him when he’s pretending to be Lex Luthor’s human son has been exhausting. No one has been too rude so far, but the weight of Lex’s hand on his shoulder is heavy, and this complicated set of social rules that he still doesn’t understand puts him on edge.

Normally he’d say fuck the rules and do what he wants, but the situation is too delicate for that. Clarke and Robin both told him that he needs to be careful and think twice about every move he makes, and for once neither of them sounded condescending about it. He could tell that they don’t like the situation, either, worry and sympathy clear in their faces.

“Come on,” Timothy says, heading towards a set of double doors. He doesn’t glance back, trusting Connor to follow him, and Connor does, stepping in his footsteps as he expertly weaves through the crowd, deflecting anyone trying to stop to speak to them with smooth excuses and a well-placed smile. In no time at all he’s pushing open the large french doors, releasing them from the ballroom and into the cool night air.

Kon tilts his head up, blinking at the night sky above him. It’s cloudy, obscuring what few stars manage to make their way through the light pollution to reach Metropolis. Connor wishes he could fly up there, feel the dampness of early rain on his face, burst into the dark and escape everything. For now, he keeps his feet on the ground, instead joining Timothy by the railing.

“So, how often do you come to these things, Timothy?” Connor asks, leaning back on his elbows. The other boy perches with a hip pressed against the railing, arms crossed over his chest.

“Tim, please,” he says. “Timothy makes me feel like I’m in trouble or you’re trying to swindle me out of a business deal.”

“Okay. How often do you come to these things, Tim?” Connor corrects, testing the feel of it in his mouth. Tim relaxes at the sound.

“Decently often, but I usually stick to Gotham,” he says. “I’ll have to start coming to more now that I’m in charge of Drake Industries, but I grew up going to galas. Is this your first one since Luthor found you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Connor asks. Tim smirks, but shakes his head.

“I think I’d remember if I’d seen you at one of these before.”

Connor flashes him a charming smile.

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Tim’s cheeks turn pink, his blush noticeable against his pale skin even with the limited light out here. Kon takes a sip of his sparkling cider, satisfaction making it taste sweeter on his tongue.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re probably the only people under thirty in the whole building besides some of the catering staff,” Tim says.

“You missed the toddler earlier,” Connor hums. “She was throwing a tantrum. I very much sympathized.”

“Did I really?” Tim asks dryly. “What a pity. Oh no. How unfortunate that Bruce likes being fashionably late to everything.”

Connor snorts.

“Bruce Wayne, huh?” he says. “How’d you two meet?”

Tim shifts so he’s leaning back against the railing like Kon. Kon takes a moment to drink in his profile, tracing the sharp jut of his nose, the hair shielding his eyes from him at this angle.

“He’s my neighbor,” Tim says. “I’ve kind of always known him, but our families weren’t really close until a few years ago. When my dad was in a coma, Bruce took me in. My uncle was supposed to get custody of me now, but…”

Tim trails off, searching for words. Eventually, he shrugs.

“He’s fostering me right now. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Do you want to stay with him?” Kon asks. Tim considers his words carefully. Connor’s mouth is always running away with him, but Tim seems to have the opposite approach. Everything is measured and careful, cold and tactical. It reminds Kon of Robin in the middle of missions, keeping his reactions even and methodical to counteract the impulsiveness of the rest of the team. Kon wonders if Tim is the type of person to let himself be stupid and emotional around friends like Robin is, or if he always keeps everything bottled up.

“Yeah, I do,” Tim breathes eventually. “But it’s complicated.”

“What do you mean?”

Another pause. Kon does Robin’s breathing exercise, staying patient. Some people need time to talk, and Kon can’t help if he doesn’t know what’s wrong.

“I guess I don’t want him to adopt me because he feels obligated,” Tim says. “He has a family. There’s–It’s a long story, too long to explain now. Sorry, this is a weird first impression, huh? But enough about me! What about you? Where were you before Luthor found you?”

“Uh,” Connor says, still recovering from the whiplash of topics and searching for Luthor’s cover story. “Kansas.”

“Kansas?” Tim prompts.

“Yeah, Kansas. I was in the foster system for a while, then I got adopted by this nice old couple who live on a farm in Smallville, which is just as small as it sounds. I didn’t know anything about my birth parents until Lex showed up.”

“Wow,” Tim says. “This has to be a big adjustment, then.”

Connor scratches the back of his neck.

“Yeah, kinda.”

Kon’s whole life feels like a big adjustment, from adjusting to existing and Clark’s negative feelings towards him, to adjusting to working for Camdus and living in Hawaii, to adjusting to Young Justice and Teen Titans, to finally trying to adjust to Smallville, only to be ripped away from that and forced into Metropolis high society.

“Do you miss them?” Tim asks. “The old couple who adopted you?”

Kon swallows against the unexpected pang that rolls through him. He can almost taste Martha’s pancakes on his tongue and hear the crinkle of the newspaper as Jonathan hands him the cartoons.

“I wasn’t with them very long. Only a few months.”

Tim tilts his head.

“That doesn’t answer the question.”

Connor shrugs. He doesn’t know what the right answer is here. Martha and Jonathan are the closest thing he’s ever had to parents, but part of him never expected to stay with them. When Luthor ripped him away from them, there was a part of Kon that wasn’t surprised at all, even if a bigger part was in agony.

Martha kissed his forehead when he left the farm and gave him a sad smile.

“You can always come back here, okay? This is your home, no matter what Lex Luthor has to say about it.”

“If they formally adopted you, Lex Luthor’s claim as your biological father isn’t enough to force cut contact,” Tim says, pushing off the railing and taking a few steps closer. “Trust me. I researched this stuff when my dad came out of his coma.”

Kon frowns.

“He didn’t like Bruce?”

Tim wavers.

“It’s complicated,” he offers. Kon snorts.

“Yeah, I get that.”

Tim’s mouth quirks up, giving Connor the shadow of a smile again.

“It’s not really a first meeting story.”

“Guess we need a second meeting, then,” Connor says.

“Yeah?” Tim asks. “My weird family dynamic really captivated you, huh?”

“It was your eyes first, actually,” Connor says. Tim opens his mouth, then closes it again, eyes wide. Kon holds his breath. He says flirty things all the time, both to his friends and to people he rescues who seem like they need a pick-me-up, but it’s been a while since he sincerely flirted with someone he plans to see again. He almost never does it with someone who only knows him as Connor rather than Superboy, much less a boy.

If this goes badly and Tim tells the entire Metropolis elite that Lex’s son is a homosexual, maybe the scandal will be enough for Luthor to send him back to Smallville. If it goes well…

“You have… very nice eyes, too,” Tim says eventually. Connor beams, then beams even more at the sharp inhale Tim draws in response. Tim shifts.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” he asks. “There’s a decent ice cream place open late a few blocks away. We can be there and back before anyone misses us.”

Connor glances towards Luthor in the ballroom. He’s still talking to Bruce Wayne, and they’ve amassed a small crowd around them.

“Bruce will keep Lex busy for a while. He likes to talk. Besides, you can always tell him that you were networking,” Tim offers.

Luthor said that Tim should be his focus for the rest of the night. He never said that they had to stay at the gala.

“Lead the way,” he says, gesturing grandly towards the French doors. Tim blinks once, then again, then smiles. His eyes light up with it, and Kon suddenly understands why Tim had to inhale before.

“Come on,” Tim says, leading the way. Kon follows just as closely as he did before, trailing him until they spill out into the Metropolis night and he can stand next to him, almost close enough for their arms to brush.

Maybe living with Lex Luthor won’t be so bad if comes with seeing Tim Drake, too.

#my writing #timkon #timkon fanfic #i feel like i'm not going to have the focus to actually make this the full fic it deserves #the plot would be a bear to figure out even though i have inklings #but i love the idea of kon being forced into this situation where he has no allies and is blackmailed into helping lex #and tim and bruce manage to show up and help him as civilians #because there's no way tim would abandon him with a supervillain and a bunch of rich people #buy back the secrets has inspired a deep appreciation for identity fics so! here we are #anyway. this is my first ever timkon piece of writing and i'm scared! but we're vibing #i might put this on ao3 but i don't want to until i'm certain i won't expand on it and make it a full fic

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