#everyone but jason knows that he sees the kid as his child

[miniaturesuitgladiator]

Batfam x Neglected Mortal

Kombat reader

Notes: This is part twelve to lucid dreams. The other parts are on my masterlist.

Warnings: death blood grave yard. Grief. Not proofread.

The angels pity humans and their stupidity. But what do the gods think?

Maybe they think your weak, unable to conceal your emotions. Or maybe they love the gift of dying envy your mortality.

Envy dying.

Dying has always been seen as something beautiful .

Your last moments on this earth were supposed to feel peaceful.

Atleast to the person who was dying....but to the person who loved them?

Oh they died just as much that day.

But they still walk the earth just the same the next morning.

Yes, death was probably beautiful to the dead. But to the living it was pain.

You understood dead at an earlier age. Having attended plenty of funerals for people you hardly knew.

People didn't cry at funerals here.

No, that was for the weak. Here funerals were to celebrate their achievements how much they were honored. How great they were!

Maybe angels were right to pity humans for their stupidity.......And you learn that today.

Blood tainted the pure white snow from every angle. The once beautiful oak trees had cold beaten bodies pressed against them.

The air was cold and smoke filled the air. Cuts covered your skin as you fought, fought, fought.

Everyone was fighting. This was it. The war.

Alliances were made brother betrayed brother. While most women with their children afraid to be brought into the war. While other women fought alongside their men just as ambitious to win.

Kids would become orphans and mothers would become widows.

Those who live would be as tainted as the snow was in blood ,but no one cared for that right now.

No, everyone wanted to win.

You don't remember when your vision had gotten so blurry or when you couldn't think straight your body was moving on instinct.

But a voice brings you back into place.

"Sister!"

"Sis!"

No, make that two voices.

The first was kion and you look to your left to find him leaning against a tree. A man double his size smiling wickedly at him. No doubt he was planning on killing your brother.

But before your feet could move you look to your right. And there's Jason. Your Jason.

He's laying down a sword to his neck but he's screaming for you to help him. Injuries cover both of their bodies fear indented into their little child eyes but they only yell for one person.

You.

Who to chose? Your mind doesn't have time to think and you heart breaks at either choice.

By the time you know realize who you chose it's too late. You already killed the man who was going to kill Jason.

You chose Jason. Well, more like your instincts did right?

It's a reasonable decision. Jason was weaker then Kion. He didn't know how to survive here.

Kion was stronger he'd last a little longer then Jason would've right?

Long enough for you to help him to right?

Wrong.

Turning back to where kion was you see him.

He's slumped against a tree sword through his chest ,eyes struggling to stay open.

This was it.

You decided.

You decided that blood wasn't thicker then water.

Your reach him before his head hits the ground and he's in your arms. He doesn't look in pain but the sword in his chest tells you it's just a facade.

Another wall not to look weak.

His face is covered in blood and bruises. His voice a weak tremble compared to his normal tone.

"I lied..... I am afraid to die sister."

So weak. So quiet. So not Kion.

Your breath hitches and your blinking so fast to keep in the tears because you know he hates when you cry.

"It's okay...... your not gonna die." You say but it's not really a sentence, it's more like a prayer.

'Please don't die, please don't die!' Is what you want to say ,but you won't. It'd be selfish.

His last words aren't angry. Aren't selfish. He acts as if he doesn't even care that you chose Jason over him.

Your own brother, your own blood.

"Don't forget me....please?"

Even in his last words he's still begging for your attention.....

His eyes close for the last time before you get to answer. His small chest stops moving and a for a moment so does your own.

If you didn't know any better you'd say someone had snuck behind you and took your heart out from your chest. Because that's what this moment feels like.

You hold him close against your chest feeling his small cold body against yours. All he ever wanted was your approval.....

Warm hands wraps around your stomach pulling you tight. Your quick to push them away but they come back again holding you tighter.

Then you feel it.

The snow isn't as cold..and it doesn't smell like blood anymore....

Your eyes open and your still in your bed Kions still asleep agianst your chest.

Kions still breathing.

The silk sheets beneath you add to your comfort but your hearts still aching.

"You'll never have to fear death kion....." You whisper your voice sounds just like it did in the dream soft like prayer.

Lucid dreams,

They always haunted you nomatter the day. But this was different. It was something you didn't know you feared.

How would you ever chose between Jason or Kion?

In this dream you chose Jason ,but what if you had chosen Kion? Would you still feel the same brutal regret?

As you closed your eyes you prayed for two things. That you wouldn't have any more dreams for the night.

And that you'd never have to choose between your two brothers......

The sun shined brighter the next day.

Almost like an apology gift from the heavens for the bad dream last night.

The pure white snow wasn't covered in blood and the air wasn't as cold.

"Do you ever lose?" Your mentor taunts smiling at you as he circles your stance.

You knew he was referring to your fight with Azrael.

Everyone was impressed without your skills and it seems that includes your mentor as well.

"She's a Hasashi. Winning is in her blood." Your father speaks up ,and your head snaps to him as he stands before you.

He continues speaking and his voice is different....not angry or upset....just confused.

"We saw how she fought without her powers...now let's see how she does with them."

Your mentor nods giving you space as your sparing partner prepares to fight you.

"Don't hold back." Your father says backing away to give you space but close enough so he can watch.

Your sparing partner however looks far to young. Well he's about the same age as you ,but he looks weak.

Though the young boy looked scared he's the first to throw a punch and you easily dodge and manage to throw him on the ground within a second.

"I said use your powers." Your father states commandingly.

"My fire would kill him."

Your words are simple but true. Your fire would easily destroy the young looking boy.

"Doesn't matter. Don't hold back." Your father says stepping forward daring you to disobey him.

The boy doesn't even flinch at your father's words. As if he already knew he was dead.

He tries to keep the a tough face but you see how his form is slightly shaken how his eyes dart around nervously.

"I won't kill someone who doesn't it." You say and voice is strong and it matches perfectly with how your father sounds.

You can tell everyone's amused by what you said. Because since when does a Hasashi not kill?

"Why do you do this? Why do hold back?"

Ah, now you've done it. Your father's angry. You haven't seen or made him angry in years and for a moment you feel just like you did when you were a kid. Scared.

But your not that kid anymore. So you puff out your chest and stand tall showing no sign of fear. But your father begins speaking before you can answer his first question.

"Why don't you hit first in a fight?"

"Does it matter?" You state tilting your head but your voice still carries that strong venom.

"Of course it does!" His voice echo through the whole training area and even other soldiers who were training flinch at the sound of his voice.

All eyes are on you now. Waiting for you to face his wrath like many others have.

Like you have before.

"I don't know how." You state simple but your not backing down. Far from it.

Your father sighs clearly expecting this answer he replies.

"Of course you don't."

"I was taught this way by my grandfather.....it was easier not to hurt my opponent this way."

Your words shock everyone agian. Because everyone here spared like their opponent was the enemy not a friend.

You fought here to survive you understood that. But in gotham you fought to protect.

So your grandfather taught you how to fight softly. Not to say you couldn't fight rough but you chose not too.

"I still fight hard. I just use defense more the offense." But your words do nothing to calm the room or more importantly your father.

"Your a Hasashi. Our whole fighting technique is focused on offense." The older mentor says and you watch your father stare at you in disbelief. As if saying how could you not know this?

"No, it's focused on anger." You say simply.

Your were right of course but no one ever had the guts to say that. And to the king none the less.

"With anger or not. You will learn to fight with our technique ,and she will not stop until she perfects it." Your father says sternly glancing at your mentor as he walks out the training area ,clearly displeased with your technical abilities.

You scoff he really didn't change did he?

"I really am a fool aren't I? I thought you could change." Your words slip past your tongue before your mind has time to stop them from reaching your lips.

Your father freezes mid step and you don't need to look around the training area to see everyones worried faces.

"No, I'd be the fool to let you fight unprepared. I just got you back. I refuse to lose you." He doesn't turn around to face you and you wonder if he really means what he's saying.

But deep down you know he's being sincere your brain just won't let your guard down. Even if he's your father....

He continues walking as if you hadn't spoken at all. And you stand there deciphering his words.

"Let's begin ,princess."

"Yeah....."

The halls of the ancient palace were quiet the beautiful sun lowering beneath the horizon leaving that beautiful glow throughout the palace.

You walk through the halls your hands softly touching the walls of the place you once called home. Still quite not believing your finally back.

You hear steps and you don't need to look behind you to know the person ,because their already beside you before you can.

"Thank you...." He mumbles quietly almost ashamed.

This stops your steps as you turn to look at him puzzled because why would he be thanking you?

"I know you... you could've cut out my eye if you wanted to.... You spared me." Azrael says staring into your confused eyes.

"Well, you spared my eye." He continues.

"You clearly don't know me enough." You say softly. Your head turning to the side you didn't want to look at him. To look at his scare. The scar you gave him.

"I wanted a fair fight."

"I don't fight friends...." He whispers his voice quiet almost unsure of how he wanted to say it but he still says it confidently.

"Were still friends?" You ask tilting your head. Had this world not tainted his heart like the blood tainted his hands?

"When did we ever stop?" He asks copying your actions and tilting his head.

"When I gave you this." You mumble your hands tracing the outline of the scar that crosses his eye.

"This does not define are friendship.... you gave it to me. I'll wear it as a gift." Azrael mutters. His voice holding the kind of sincerity that you don't even need to question.

"Your delusional....." You say but your hand doesn't stop tracing his scar until his hand grabs your wrist gently. Not harsh. Never harsh.

"I prefer...grateful."

His rough but but gentle hands continue holding your wrist just loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted ,but you don't.

"And I prefer foolish."

Kion voice rings all the way from the other side of the long hallway. Your quick to pull your hand away like you touched something you shouldn't have.

Kions by your side before you can think of an excuse.

"Touch my sister agian and it'll be the last thing your hands ever touch." Kion says his eyes already burning with hatred for Azrael.

Azrael on the other hand doesn't even flinch at Kions threat or how Kion is getting in his face.

Between the two it was obvious Azrael was the better fighter even Kion knew that. But that doesn't stop your little brother from trying to nearly kill the boy.

"Kion. Enough." You warn almost embarrassed at your brothers actions.

"No, he doesn't get to touch you."

"And who decides that?" Azrael says his voice obviously teasing your smaller brother.

"Are father." Kion says like the snitch he is. And you roll your eyes at his childish tactics.

But Azrael freezes like a kid who got caught putting their hand in the cookie jar.

"Kion stop this. It's childish." You say groaning throwing a apologizing glance at Azrael.

"Childish or not you will not come near sister." Kion warns as he grabs your hands his eyes only leaving Kion to lead you down the hall..

"That's was unnecessary." You say your face contorted of confusion and irritation.

"No, he doesn't get the privilege of your time. Not after he hurt you." He points to the barely noticeable scar on your arm that's no longer bandage.

"It's a kitten scratch. It's nothing."

"It's not. It symbolizes that he doesn't care to hurt you."

And in this rather uncomfortable moment you realize that nomatter how hard you try and persuade your younger brother that Azrael was rather sweet. Your desperate please would never be heard.

So you stay silent as your brother leads you down the hall until you reach the gardens and he stops at the entrance.

"What are we doing here?" You mumble your eyes staring Intently at the beautiful flowers that the garden was full of.

"Oh...I forgot to tell you. Fathers waiting for you." Kion says sheepishly as he looks at you slightly embarrassed from his lack of memory.

"Oh......" You mumble your eyes no longer staring at the beautiful flowers that the rising moon shine its light on.

But your eyes go over the path that leads through the garden wondering what your father must want.

"I'll see you tonight...." Kion mumbles seeing that you probably aren't even listening to him as you walk down the beautiful flower path.

You don't respond to busy searching for your father as you walk down the path......

The path ends after a while of walking and for a while wonder if Kion took you to the wrong place. But then you see him.

He's not in his normal king attire. No, now he looks normally. Far to normal. To humble.

But you see why.

Seeing where he's standing. The place he plans to take you is nowhere where your clothes matter nor your status.

Because the people you visit here don't care about any of that......

"For a moment I almost thought you wouldn't come," He says his voice quiet almost like he's scared to frighten the people here. Or he's frightened of the people here.

You hum your steps now softer as your father leads you down a more narrow but lavish path.

Your father stops at the place you knew he would. You follow his actions on getting on your knees at the stone infront of you.

"I buried her here....I figured since she was family to you ,she deserved to be buried in the Hasashi grave yard."

He goes silent after that so unlike a king who always has something to say.

"If my grandfather was here....he'd kill you for doing this." You mumble your eyes trained on the sight of your grandmother's grave.

It almost felt like if you stared at it long enough you'd get a glimpse of her.

"Well he's not here. And I'm not seeking his approval. I'm seeking yours."

Your eyes never leave the grave and you barely catch what he's saying. The grave's nicer then what she would've had if she was buried anywhere else.

But you knew she would've preferred to be buried somewhere else. Somewhere she belonged.

"She hated these." You state your hands already clawing at the beautiful tulips planted around your grandmother's grave.

"She isn't here to comment on her grave...."

"She might be." You retort your hands still mindlessly digging up the flowers your grandmother would've never chosen.

"Stop it." Your father demands but your minds not listening as your hands continue working on taking out every flower off her grave.

"I said stop." He repeats his hands grabbing yours to stop your actions.

You blink. Once then twice.

You stay silent your hands still caged by your father's bigger ones.

"She's dead......let her rest."

"She's dead because you killed her."

Your voice doesn't come out as strong as you'd like ,more like a broken whisper ,but their strong enough to hurt your father's pride.

"I told you it was an accident..she was never supposed to be hurt."

"Accidents are meant to be fixed... you can't fix this." Your voice had long lost the venom now every word that past your lips was just...pain.

"I understand your hurt....but I thought-"

"You thought that burying her in a nice place would earn you forgiveness?" You mock your eyes finally meeting his.

"No, I thought you could forgive me....." He whispers his hands bawled into fist just like the are when he fights....

Truly you wish you could forgive him. Wish you could look past his faults and move on but your heart aches the same way it did the day she was killed when you look at her grave.

It's a nice grave but far to forced far to fake for her. She would've wanted something small with meaning......but here she lays with a meaningless grave.

It beaks you.

"You'll never forgive me will you?"

"When she's alive then I'll truly forgive you." You whisper your eyes returning to the grave your grandmother would've never agreed to.

But then again she doesn't have a choice anymore.....

You don't even truly realize the hurtful words that you just spoke. To focused on your own pain to see how much you just hurt your father.

"Do you know why we focus are fighting technique on anger?" Your father finally speaks up trying to ignore the pain on his chest at your cruel words.

"It's the easiest emotion to control...."

You know this but your mind doesn't want to speak. Atleast Not to him. So you stay silent and let him carry on with his meaningless conversation.

"Being anger is better then being sad."

You wish you agreed with his words. You wish you could think how he does. But the pull in your heart doesn't want hatred or anger...it wants peace.

It wants belonging. And right now you don't what you want. Or where you belong.

You don't want to be angry. You don't want to be like him. To become something your not. But something in the back of your mind tells you it'd be easier that way. Less pain. Less regret.

Just like him.

"Control your emotions. Don't let them control you." He says his voice calm but firm. Not harsh or rude.

His hands have let go of yours and your quick to pull them away.

He'll never forget what you said today. But he supposes that that's his punishment for hurting you this way.

"That's why you almost lost against Azrael..... because your emotions. They'll get you killed if your not careful...please be careful."

You hear what he's saying but your to focused on trying to keep your tears from falling to even care.

Your eyes are still focused on the ground so you don't see as he gets on his feet deciding to give you space. But you hear his last whisper before he walks away.

"I love you.."

It's such a quiet whisper your sure you heard him wrong. He obviously doesn't expect you to respond or say it back as he walks away with his head hung low as if you just broke his heart.

Well, you did break his heart.

Your hand begin working on taking out the tulips agian. You never really knew why your grandmother hated tulips they were rather pretty flowers to you.

But she hated them. You wonder if your fatger knew she hated them and he had them planned around her grave just to mock her. Or if it was accidental and the world was mocking you.

You blink fast trying to keep your tears from falling. You know this is ridiculous you should be over her death it's been years. You hardly remember her face....

But somehow that makes it even worse.

How can miss someone you hardly remember?

She hated when you cried, you remember that. Always the first to comfort you. Always.

She had soft brown hair and streaks of Grey from her aging. But she always blamed your grandfather for her Grey hairs saying he stressed her out.

You remember her laugh how sweet it was and how she never raised her voice at you but you feared her wrath just the same as your grandfather's.

She would never hit you. No, she was far to delicate to do that but just her being disappointed in you made you respected her.

You remember how she always did your hair even if it was diffrent from her own she'd learn how to do it.

Now looking back you realized how she was more your mother then the one you left in gotham.

She never got disappointed in you. Always praised you even for your mistakes telling you that mistakes make you better. They guide you to winning.

Being with her was easy you didn't have to seek her approval or beg for attention ,because she gave that to you freely.

You don't have a picture of her or painting but you wish you did. So you'd never forget the women who raised you.

One thing you'll never forget is the way she smelled. She smelled sweet deserts..

Her favorite desert were cakes so the house often was full of them.

She used to tell you when you were small that I'd you were ever lost follow the smell of her cakes. And they'll bring you back to her.

But you can't.

All you can do is stare at a cold stone and hope she's proud of whatever your turning into.

"The smell of your cakes are fading....and I..I don't know what to do."

The blows against your wet cheeks because nomatter how hard you try and fight them off the tears don't stop.

The breeze of the snowy night doesn't faze you ,it never did. But on nights like these where everything was quiet your body would always feel so cold.

Naturally it didn't make sense. Your body was literally fire. It was like the coldness made replaced the loneliness. It was your bodies way of distracting your mind from the pain.

Though you feel like shit and your heart hearts and you've had just about the worst day. The world doesn't stop. The birds still sing the wind still blows and night still passes.

Realizing this you stand wiping your tears, because despite your pain life still moves on.

Your life still moves on.

A little darker and sadder but it still moves on.

Looking up you freeze your wet teary eyes Looking at something strange.

Something that makes your whole world stop.

Your know what it is.

Or more importantly who it is.

You've seen them. Or we'll their eyes plenty of times.

Blue eyes stare deeply into yours unwavering waiting, watching. Trying to see what you'll do.

You don't move or flinch as the snow crunches under their wait as the move.

You just continue to stare at the monster known as Sub-zero.

He's so far away from you behind a tree not giving you a clear view of him, but it's him. You know it. His piercing blue eyes watch your every breathe.

Then just like you saw him. He was gone.

Like a ghost.

Your bodies quicker then your kind and before you know what you're really doing your feet run right were he was.

By the time you get there he's gone. That's to be expected but you don't stop. Not for second your body won't let you. And all your instincts all telling you to stop.

Screaming at you that this a trap.

But your feet still carry you as fast as they can following his foot steps in the snow.

Now if you were in your right mind you'd realize that he would've never left Tracks in the snow ,but sadly your not in your right mind.

So you continue following his tracks that he would've never left if he didn't want you to find him.

Eventually his tracks end and your breathing heavy and you dont quite know where you are.

So far into the snowy words and now it's snowing so heavily that you can barely make out what someones saying.

Then you hear it more clearly.

It's him the same man you once called your uncle.

And he's singing the same song you once loved.

Well he's humming it you'd probably be dead before you hear sub-zero sing.

He's still big and his muscles haven't changed and if you were anyone else you would be terrified of the big man. But surprisingly you arent.

He's calmly sitting in the snow. You see what he's doing. He's trying to make himself appear smaller less harmful. Why?

Your steps are quiet as you approach him blending into the wind. He's staring right at you and as you get closer everything inside you is telling you to run but you don't.

"You've gotten better little dragon."

You swallow your mouth going dry realization finally hitting you full force. This really was him wasn't it?

Looking back you can understand why people feared him so much before you didn't understand because to you he was harmless. He'd teach you how to fought how to kill but he always brought you gifts when he'd visit.

He has Grey hair now but not as much as your father. You suppose he was always more laid back then your father so it made sense.

"Have you gone mute dragon?" He teases his voice soft just like you remember.

Dragon. He always called you that. He's the only one who ever called d you that. It fitted you perfectly or in his eyes it did. So that's what he called since the day you were born.

How can this be the man who killed Kions mother? It didn't make sense but then again it didn't make sense why he's here right either.

"Why are you here?" You ask your voice softer then what you wanted. It didn't make sense you were supposed to hate him. Hate him for what he did....but why isn't he fighting you?

"You know I do everything for a reason ,dragon."

His words are true you they are. He's always one step ahead. And right now it's obvious he has you right where he wants you. Trapped.

You look around trying to hide the fear in your eyes with anger.

"Don't be scared....it's just you and I. You have my word."

"Your word doesn't mean anything anymore. So I'll ask again why are you here?!" You say your voice loud but shaky maybe someone will hear you if you speak loud enough.

But deep down you know your way to far for anyone to help.

"Simple. I wanted to see who's side your on."

Silence. Pure silence fills the air.

"..............what?"

"I said-"

"I heard what you said..... What do to mean?"

Isn't it obvious who's side your on? Shouldn't the whole world know by now? What kind of game is this sick man playing?

"Answer the question." He ask. His eyes never leave yours.

"My fathers."

"Then kill me."

What the hell going on? Your heads practically screaming 'it's a trap, it's a trap, it's it's trap.'

But still you push on.

"Nothings ever that easy."

"It can be....take your sword and kill me. No blood has to shed only mine. Do it."

Your grab your sword and hold it tightly in your hand.

"Do it." He says his voice strong. He's so confident....why?

So many questions fill your head. But only one reamians as you point the sword to his neck.

'Why is this so hard?'

"Why?" You ask your voice so quiet, so soft....and you watch as his blue eyes soften.

You sound just like you did before you left.

Like a child.

"If you truly think I'm guilty of what they say I am. Then kill me."

Your chest hearts the pain from earlier coming back ten times fold.

How can you do this? If you kill him you hurt yourself never knowing the truth. But if you don't kill him you hurt your entire clan ,or more important Kion.

"If not you then who?"

"I don't know...but I'd never hurt your father like this..."

He sounds so honest. But your hand still holds your sword to his neck.

"You'd do it for the throne......"

Your hand unconsciously pushes the sword harder against his neck.

"No I wouldn't..... you know this." He says his eyes so diffrent then what you'd expect from a killer.

They look honest and pleading. Pleading for you to give him a chance.

You sigh and pull your sword away from his neck.

Because despite your last name you can't kill a man who doesn't deserve it....

'Please let this be the truth.' Your thoughts say over and over again until he speaks up agian.

He stands, his voice still soft.

"Thank you...."

"Why would someone do this....."

You ask ,your so worried about everything ,to truly see how grateful he is that you actually believe him.

"If they wanted the throne they would've killed your father..."

"Then what do they want?"

"An empire to fall."

At the palace your father sits in his office calculating the plans for the war when guards knock.

"What is it?"

"We have unexpected guests. They would like to see you." The guard says as he opens the door.

"I don't have time for guest ,tell them to go away."

"My king I think you'll want them to stay."

Your father being fed up and frustrated at everything speaks up.

"Who is it?!"

"The princess's mother.....and her family."

Well this night could possibly get worse....right?

Well maybe the gods were right...dying was better then living.

You'll realize that soon.

Thanks for reading!

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

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[pumkinzee]

DATING JASON GRACE

request: ˋˋ Hey! I love your Jason Grace post sm!! I was wondering if you could maybe do like headcanons for Jason Grace dating a Hades/Pluto kid? Maybe sprinkle in some nsfw if you’re okay with it? if not don’t even worry i will happily take what i can get!! thank you sm!!! ˊˊ

pairing: Jason Grace x gn!Hades!reader

a/n: I said it in the Percy post, PENDEJO ENOUGH TO DELET ACCIDENTLY

⌑ - English isn't my first language so I'm using a translator and my basic knowledge of the language!

𝐑equest 𝐨pens! + 𝐫ules!

The first thing he felt was fear, all his life he was raised to be in control of the situation, and he thought he was slowly getting it when he was with you, he just didn't have it programmed in that he couldn't control his heart rate when you approached, or the way his hands sweated on the handle of his sword when you looked at him, he was being clumsy and that scared him. When he finally realized that being in love was not synonymous with being weak, he started planning how to approach you, every move, learning your expressions, how you reacted, how you fought, how to flirt, he really studied you and planned how to make you his.

I've said it before and I'll keep saying it, this man is too much of a gentleman, for his own good, he pulls your chair up to the table, sits after you, gives you his jacket, helps you jump over mud puddles, puts his hand on the corner of the table when you bend over, walks down the street, pays for all your dinners, there's nothing he won't do for you, I've said it here before

So, you are a child of Hades. Let's start with that he has respect for you, he knows your place and how powerful you are being a child of the big three, since he is one, he knows what it's like to have the pressure of everyone, he gives you your space and his unconditional support, whenever you need him you are guaranteed to have him with open arms.

He's a little scared of your father, we all know what Hades and Zeus' relationship is like, I often think about how he tries to make you feel fantastic not only because of how much he loves you (and that you are literally his world) but to impress your father a little. He doesn't succeed, but at least he means well.

Your styles are quite opposite, especially in clothing, he will wear white sweaters, button down shirts or anything that looks fancy outside of camp, at the same time he gets used to seeing you in leather jackets, boots or black makeup because he thinks you look cool. He confirms this.

He is very patient, more than any of us here are, he is calculating and usually takes things slowly, but he knows how to work under pressure, if you ever need to make a quick decision without time to analyze the environment, I assure you that he is already three steps ahead of you. He likes cuddles, just like anyone else, only he is... complicated. He is very rigid, he is not always ready to hug you back, sometimes spontaneous hugs make him react slightly violent, like a slap or turning around faster than he should, all thanks to his camp, but as soon as he realizes it's you, he softens up. It's hard enough for you to break his shell and he'll let you hug him.

If you are similar to Nico, meaning both in personality and in having lost someone, he is a very good listener, he will take a few seconds to analyze what you said and think of a response, he is not a psychologist, but he knows how to make you feel that you fit in, at least with him.

If your powers leave you constantly exhausted, he is there to hold you up if your legs get weak, sometimes scolding you when you overexert yourself and end up even more exhausted.

I write this thinking of Hades and not Pluto (although you can consider him as outside) so he likes you to be in his cabin, he likes to be with you cuddled up in your cold cabin if it wasn't for Nico, so when Nico is, you're usually in various places but not your cabin, too cold and gloomy, almost looks like depression factory.

The military badges with your initials, when he trains, jingle against his sweaty chest and he remembers that, even when he is exhausted training, he knows you are there.

His protective instinct is very high, he doesn't want anything to happen to you, he is always on the lookout for you, like a police dog that gets upset when he hears a branch break near where you are.

nsfw cut!

He is careful, let's put it that way. I have mentioned this section before, but he almost always knows what he is doing, he is careful and delicate, he memorizes every part of your body before even laying a hand on you, he would take his time to find out what you like and what you don't like.

Limits are the most important thing to him, even when he gets lost in pleasure, he is aware of what you like and what you don't, your pleasure is his priority.

I'm not good at doing sex fics, BUT, I'm not going to let it go unnoticed that this man has a huge dick. Son of the big three, huh, son of Zeus. My gods.

His hands are always either on your waist or on your wrists, holding them above your head, he only does this when he's desperate and having a hard time being a gentleman. He digs his nails into the flesh of your waist, leaving bruises he'd apologize for and take care of, but in the moment, he's lost, hitting you hard enough to leave you with a sore hip the next day.

He spreads his legs and sits you on his thigh, his hands on your waist, under your shirt, leaning down and devouring your neck, whispering to you everything from the most romantic to the dirtiest things that even I can't think of. He leaves you a kiss on the back of your neck and lets you go, because he's busy.

Sex in public? Dream on. He wants to do things right, public sex equals quickies, and he's conflicted about this.

He puts his hand between your thighs when they're in public, he doesn't go past that, he takes it upon himself to move it up to your intimate part and throw little sparks with his fingers. Don't wait any longer.

©pumkinzee

[ghostly-bat]

I keep thinking about the Gotham gazette whos the hottest Wayne poll au bc there had to be a significant number of publicly known adult Wayne’s for the first one to make sense

I think the first one happened the year cass became public

Bruce is in his 30s, dick is 27ish, cass is 20-21, Jason is dead for all the public and the batfam know, and Tim is 17

Bruce tries to sue the gazette on the grounds that tim is a minor but loses the case because he’s not Tim’s legal guardian (it’s the fake uncle) and tim won’t sue on behalf of himself bc he thinks it funny

Cass wins Bruce and dick are tied for second and Tim losses by a large margin because the lawsuit made people uncomfortable with voting for him

after this the four of them cycle through winning each year until Jason becomes publicly revived (for insert whatever reason here) and he wins

Bruce 41-39,Dick 33, Cass 27, Jason 26, Tim 23, and Duke is 19 but not including in the poll bc he was Bruce ward when he was 17 but in current comics his mom got better and he lives with her now so the gazette doesn’t include him bc the public doesn’t consider him a Wayne (the bats will always think of him as family but this is based off Gotham public opinion and let’s be honest there probably some racism involved with them not seeing duke as a Wayne and also accepting Tim as a Wayne when Bruce wasn’t even Tim’s guardian yet) and Damian is 16 so obviously not included in the poll (duke and Damian are both very glad to not be included)

Which makes Damian really upset when next year damian is included in the roster bc the gazette got away with Tim being in the running at 17 but they forgot that Bruce can successfully sue them bc (that’s his baby) he is Damians legal guardian and the results of the lawsuit is Damian is taken off the roster and they aren’t allowed to put him on the roster until hes 20 (much to Damian’s relief)

At 20 damian wins bc the newest shiniest Wayne always wins when they’re added

This whole thing was just an excuse for me to write Bruce going all protective mamma bear on the gazette and the public for daring to sexualize his baby’s

I feel this so deeply lol I should have also probably emphasized that they were all adults when I made that post, I need to get into the habit of doing that cus not everyone lives inside my brain but I love this nonetheless!

I think Dick and Damian rotate being first on the poll because Dick is the all around pretty boy that just gets better looking with age and Damian has an ethereal beauty to him thanks to his mom. They both could honestly careless but curiosity always gets the better of Dick so he's looking at those results every year and whenever it's Damian on the top of the results he whispers quietly to himself "that's a child..." Damian's 23 going on 24 at this point lol.

But there are years where Bruce ends up on the top of the list and that's when all the kids celebrate with a "You still got it old man 😌"

[aingeal98]

Her deaths being unknown to everyone makes me so sad but her first one especially because she just doesn’t care to think twice about having died of course she wouldn’t divulge to anyone else

RIGHT like in canon Babs is aware of her first death and tells Steph who reacts with appropriate wtf ness. My theory is that when Cass came back from her fight with Shiva she gave the most detached mission report she could, which Babs later listened to in horror. Babs then makes the decision not to tell Bruce the full story, because he's been doing a shit job at parenting recently and is at the point of his spiral where he's only going to get worse. So as far as the others are aware, Cass fought Shiva and won. That's all they need to know.

Her second death she wouldn't even tell Babs about. Not because of the death, but because of the shame she feels at what came directly after. Shiva can joke about that part, Cass feels like she deserves the brand of killer whenever her mother chooses to mention it. But no one can find out about the death that happened right before it. They can't see her as a victim, not when she ended that day by killing her mother. She fought Shiva and won. Again. That's all they need to know.

Sometimes I wonder if she gets tempted to talk with Steph and Damian and even Jason about their experiences in the afterlife. Because from what she gleaned it was different for each of them, and she wonders how it would compare to hers, if she could figure out the pattern of what certain people experience.

(Why Damian got trapped in hell at one point and she felt peace every time she died. That's not fair. No one should be in hell but if someone is, then Cass should be burning right alongside with them. How could the universe get that key fact so wrong?)

Bruce talking to her one night, when he's very tired and the painkillers are getting to him after a rough and fruitless fight, about all the ways he failed the children he was responsible for. Jason's death, Steph's death, Damian's death. None of them deserved it, and he knows he can never make up for the failures. He was supposed to protect them.

Cass listens and nods along and never once thinks to bring up her own deaths. She wasn't a child, stopped being one at the age of eight. It wasn't his responsibility, Bruce is supposed to protect the kids but Cass is supposed to protect everyone. It's not even about sparing him the additional guilt, she simply doesn't think he has anything to be guilty for and it doesn't cross her mind that he would think differently. He knows Cass isn't like the others, knows she's trying to be good instead of born with it. It's just different. Her deaths don't matter, not like the actual children.

[rosestorms02]

so i’m reading this batfam fanfic where Jason takes in an orphaned kid off the streets, and everyone is all freakin out like “omg what is the red hood doing around this child this is so out of character for him” and ??? i absolutely headcannon Jason is the best with kids. everyone thinks it’d be Dick cuz he’s all sunshine and kind smiles but if you grew up in the streets of Gotham i’d seriously doubt his outgoing and overwhelming personality will do any good at all (not to mention we really wasn’t good with Jason himself when they were younger).

Jason would absolutely be that patient guardian presence a lot of traumatized kids would need, because he was them once upon a time. prodding for answers and drowning them with assurances isn’t what a lot of those kids need at that point, and i think he’d know that and would just know what they need.

so yeah i can absolutely see Jason Todd taking in or being called up to calm down traumatized or scared children, i need more people to write about it.

[undertheredhood]

as much as i love reading aus where jason becomes a parent, i think there’s a lot of untapped comedic potential in him becoming a dad by complete accident.

[donnatroyyyy]

Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.

[ailithnight]

Then when he lost diplomatic immunity, B left him to die in a helicopter crash he(Joker) caused by shooting his own pilot. The fucker came back anyway.

world war 3 was on the line, jason

[prlssprfctn]

Magic is a fickle thing, so when the things go down the hill for the Batfamily, and they accidentally (temporarily) regain a copy of little Jason in his Robin era, they both delighted and confused.

Naturally, no one really minds getting Jaybin for a day - Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Barbara all circle around the lost child, talking, offering anything and everything, hugging and kissing his freckled cheeks. Those family members who didn't know him before are no less enamoured. He is polite, nothing like a brash boy they always imagined him to be. He listens to Tim curiously, legs tucked under his chin, happily calls Cass and Steph his big sisters, helps Damian with taking care of animals, and endlessly giggles at Duke's jokes.

Everything is so... nice. What they are worried about, is their Jason's reaction. For the most of it, they expect him to be mad. Offended. Maybe frustrated.

When Jason stumbles inside the Batcave, freezing on the doorstep at the sight of himself, much younger and bubblier, everyone is silent. Dick coughs awkwardly, almost imagining what could happen, and tries to soften a blow:

"Little Wing--"

But there is no need for that. Not really.

Because their Jason stares at little Robin with delight. In awe, even. His whole face softens, and he slowly steps closer, reaching out for a kid.

"Hey, kiddo."

The sheer vulnerability in his voice, confuses others even more.

Jason stares at a kid as if he sees something so dear and lost, and it is strangely baffling. His smiles grow wider when the Second Robin shyly waves at him.

"Come here," Jason encourages him. Once the kid climbs in his arms, he whispers in the crown of his head: "Welcome home, little hero."

And suddenly, it all makes sense.

Because, of course, Jason loves and loved this child.

After all, it is the same one, who he spent protecting from the evil tongues of his own family for years.

[timmydraker]

Tim accidently referring to the Joker as Dad but those who know about Joker Jr aren’t present and so everyone is left with the ‘realisation’ that Tim is the son of the biggest nightmare to their family.

It’s probably Jason and Steph, her there to bother Tim but Jason went to the manor for food and the two naturally started arguing. Maybe Jason tells Tim to stop costing on his case and prove a point be made against blonde, but Tim just offhandedly goes, “Later, I think my dad broke out of Arkham again but the guards aren’t doing anything. Maybe they’re in on it…”

The two present naturally look at each other with confusion and for the first time stop bickering to peak over his shoulder and see what his case is because, holy shit Tim had a villain for a dad and didn’t tell us? Only to see numerous photos of the Joker in his cell and many reports over the last week of how he’s been behaving and Jason…

Steph pushes the man out of the room when she sees his face go from frozen fear to anger, thinking it’s towards Tim and his secrecy and, while she totally gets that, now isn’t the time.

Though when they get into the Jason starts a rant about how Bruce and Dick should have told him that the monster had a child, even if that child wasn’t Tim! Jason protects kids! Did they think he’d hurt him just because of who his father is?

No!

If anything, he’d become the kids full time body guard to stop that mad man from making Tim into another version of himself!

The two naturally go to tell the others, pulling Damian, Cass and Duke into a mostly unused room and telling them what they discovered, all while Tim stays in the library working on his case.

Cass is beyond worried but also confused because he doesn’t seem to have any physical characteristics of the Joker or Harley, but maybe the mother is different? Perhaps it’s still Janet and either she had a fling with the Joker or something far worse, which makes the young girl enraged on the woman’s behalf.

Damian makes a comment about him killing Tim, not in a serious manner but more as an option, but Duke shuts it down, saying that having a villain for a parent doesn’t mean anything about who you will be. He points out those in the family of that nature and other heroes like Superboy.

When asked why they didn’t get Dick or Babs involved, Jason says they defiantly know and lied about it.

It’s only after another three hours of working that Tim catches himself referring to the Joker as dad and shuts his laptop, making his way to Bruce’s room to hide under the older man’s bed like he usually does when that happens, only to overhear what his siblings are saying.

Tim presses his ear against the door to hear better.

“If that maniac had a kid, surely he’d have told everyone he had an heir or something.” That’s Steph’s voice, filled with worry that only he and Cass could detect as she hides it under a whiney tone.

Jason is next to respond, “maybe he doesn’t know? I mean, did Tim ever even interacted with him before he became Robin?”

It doesn’t take much more than that for Tim to realise that he must have been talking aloud again or absently answered someone earlier and misspoke in front of them.

Panic fills him as he avoids telling Bruce when he gets bad, even if it’s just a small thing, because the older man will start of being a concerned parent then go into Batman mode and only just stop himself from putting Tim in the confinement cell. Sure Tim came up with the idea of the cell so he wouldn’t hurt anyone if his conditioning got too bad, but he’s learnt the signs. He’s not a mindless drone, he still knows who he is and doesn’t hear someone talking to him or anything like that.

He just… sometimes forgets the Joker hurt him.

It’s not Tim’s fault that memories of watching TV with him and Harley, tucked between them with a big bowl of ice cream felt better than most memories of his real parents.

But he knows it’s wrong, always comes back to calling the Joker his enemy.

Bruce just doesn’t get that.

Tim hears them talk a bit more, theories about who his mother might be, if Tim is safe at the manor, if Joker knows he has a son…

Opening the door, Tim stands there and stares at them as all eyes snap to him in alarm.

He doesn’t let anybody speak, cutting them all off quickly, “He’s not my dad. Go the cave and search for file number 26557933301-JJ and put in the code AGELAST, all caps.”

With that he turns and leaves, walking at first before running to Bruce’s room to hide.

He goes to family dinner and pretends not to notice the quietness or how Jason is still there, eating his food quietly and waiting for the ball to drop.

Naturally, Damian is the one to say what he wants first, “So why is okay that Tim shot the joker but I got in trouble for stabbing Bane?”

Everyone groans.

[ditzybat]

okay i know that everyone has tim get hit with deaging powers in fics or headcanons, but i would like to see one where a tiny ittybitty damian pops up from his discarded robin costume on the floor and the family has to deal with a baby demon child.

tim in his red robin suit holding up a one year old damian wrapped in his robin cape: uh, i don’t really like babies very much, we need to get you to agent a

damian imprinting on the first vaguely parental shaped figure he sees:…ummi?

tim getting that mama bear sense of ‘lifting a car for your baby’ maternal love: i will kill everyone and then myself if you were to ever get hurt habibi

and i think it’ll just be hilarious to see damian’s interactions with everyone else because they’ve never had to deal with him so vulnerable and vaguely friend shaped.

dick on the verge of tears: he screamed when he saw me and ran to tim, to tim, then tim glared at me and told me to never touch his baby again - HIS BABY JASON

jason: you poor thing??

and an awkward bruce, who’s never actually dealt with babies despite being a father of (vaguely) nine kids, trying to interact with this chubby little toddler.

bruce: hello chum

damian throwing a knife at him giving the biggest cutest belly laugh when bruce catches it:

tim smooshing his chubby baby cheeks: isn’t he such a cutie patootie ?

[abcdfghjklmpqrobin]

Superman is left in the batcave on Robin-sitting duty for the day.

The batkids, (Let's say they're all fairly young and close to age for the sake of this) start to get restless pretty quickly so Clark proposes playing a game.

Hide and seek seem harmless enough. Not too physical, they can't get out of the batcave unauthorized and Clark can just locate them with his super powers if needed.

The first problem is that Cass and Damian don't know how to play. Clark tries to answer their questions 'Is it like a tressure hunt?' 'What are we hiding?' but the other kids start trying to explain and soon everyone is just shouting. Clark raises his voice and goes "Listen! The only rule is you hide and don't let me find you, okay?"

The kids all turn to look at Superman with huge glinting eyes. He ask if there's any questions and they all shake their heads no, and so Clark finally turns around and starts counting down from 100...

The first thing the kids do is grab some Kryptonite along with lead reinforced clothes. Hacking the doors and getting out of the cave is child's play. By the time Clark gets to "Cero! Ready or not here I come!" half of them already left the manor.

Tim and Cass decide to stay close to the enemy, hiding in the air conducts and old passages of the manor. They get to watch the exact moment Clark realizes, 30 minutes in, that he can't find them.

Jason and Stephanie go the disguises route. They stay in Gotham where they're already familiar with life in the streets, blending in and disappearing.

Duke and Damian take Goliath and fly to Dinosaur Island. Mostly because Duke has never been and is exited about the dinosaurs, and Damian likes animals. Also the dinosaurs will distract Superman if he comes too close.

Dick goes... Well he doesn't know where to go. Honestly, after the first 3 hours of walking around he gets pretty bored. Clark has been flying from one side of the country to the other for ages and hasn't even come close to finding him once.

So Dick goes looking for Bruce instead. He's not doing anything, he might as well help Batman kick some.

That's how Batman turns around mid-fight expecting to find another goon only to see his 9 year old son who was supposed to be at the other side of the planet with his siblings. As an explanation Dick says "Superman is Superbad at hide and seek".

Clark never babysits again.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Damian's (not) real friend

Based on the results of this poll post.

Bruce knew kids made imaginary friends as part of their development. He had done plenty of research on the topic long before taking in Dick. Over the years, as his children grew in numbers, so did his research on proper developmental milestones.

Typically, children create imaginary friends from the ages of six to nine. But that did not mean they had to give them up even if they were in their teens.

So yes, he knew kids could have imaginary friends of any age, but seeing Damian develop one was slightly shocking. It might have been due to his upbringing that Damian hadn't had one or had chosen not to speak of his buddy until he knew he was safe.

Knowing his son felt secure enough in his household to do so filled his heart with joy. Bruce kept an eye on Damian since he brought up his new friend, Daniel. He was glad his son had finally made a friend in his school that it took a few days to notice Damian never brought up Daniel unless someone else did.

When Tim asked him about his friend- claiming to have spotted Damian sitting by himself at lunchtime after his youngest had told everyone he had lunched with Daniel- the boy had waved his concerns away.

That's when Bruce learned Daniel was not a little kid at Damian's school but rather an imaginary friend.

More specifically, he learned that Daniel could not be photographed or recorded. He simply would not appear on cameras or in auto recordings. Damian didn't seem to find any of that odd, nor take into account that, as Batman and Co., they had the means to pick up some trace of something being there.

After all, they had machines that could indicate a Speedster messing with the timeline! But no, Damian insisted that Daniel simply could not be recorded.

Apparently, Damian checked.

Now Bruce knew that an imaginary friend only became a concern when the child seemed frightened by it; it encourages harmful or destructive behavior; it rapidly changes the child's typical behavior, and the child blames it for all harmful or dangerous behavior or if it disrupts the child's ability to socially interact with others.

Daniel didn't seem to frighten Damian, nor did it encourage bad behavior in his son. But it certainly got in the way of Damian making real friends, and his son's behavior changed, even if he grumbled good naturally about it.

Daniel pestered Damian to join him in exploring Gotham to find, and Bruce quotes, "Secret spots for getting down in funky town."

Damian had videos of himself break dancing in abandoned subways, ballroom dancing with the air in an abandoned firehouse, and the oddest of all, disco in an underpass where he seemed to be making faces at the area around his left shoulder. He never posted them, claiming that Daniel just wanted them for themselves.

Bruce was mildly alarmed. He brought it up with the rest of his children, who all reported similar tales of Daniel.

Tim had noticed Damian recording songs in his room- his son had inherited the Wayne vocal cords. They were all blessed singers- claiming that Daniel had written and composed the music but had wanted Damian to record it since he couldn't. They would be using it in one of their videos.

Jason brought up the fact he had seen Damian make a collage covered in nothing but pictures of himself and the Gotham landscapes. Damian had spent nearly seven hours cutting, gluing, and organizing the postal board that he hung up.

Dick's report, however, was the most alarming. He had seen a photo booth strip Damian carried at all times. It supposedly held Daniel, but all he saw was an empty booth. This, coupled with the heart-shaped frame of some underpass, of an empty wall that Damian lovingly placed on his desk, could only mean one thing.

"Damian is infatuated with his imaginary friend." He said, voice heavy in concern as his children gave each other wary looks. "Damian is fully convinced Daniel is real and, likely, is treating him as a boyfriend rather than a best friend."

"Want me to talk to him? I can get him to agree to introduce me to his....boyfriend." Steph volunteers while stepping forward. "There were some cases at the homeless shelter Duke and I volunteer at where I needed to convince some kids to introduce me to their imaginary friends."

"That could work. Besides Dick, you have the closest relationship with Damian," Duke agrees. He is staring at the videos of Damian dipping someone that wasn't there, jaw tense. It likely reminded him of his parents. "It is better to send you in just because Damian may not be ready to talk to Dick about crushes."

"I'll set up some closer monitoring around Damian," Babs offers, nodding at Tim, who was already hacking into the boy's school cameras. She had sent him a private message to get started on that the second she heard Dick's report. She was busy hacking into the city's system of Damian's usual routes when going into the city. "If someone caused him to develop Daniel, I want to be sure we stop it."

"And I'll be sure to make them pay," Jason hissed, punching his fist as Cass twirled a blade at his side, nodding in agreement. She hasn't said much, but everyone could see the anger and concern for the youngest in her eyes. Apparently, she had been able to tell through Damian's body language he had developed a crush on Daniel but had not picked up on the fact he wasn't real.

To Damian, he was, so when she read his body language, she thought he was, too.

Alfred speaks up, his voice even despite the slight tremble in his folded hands on the conference table. "We also have to consider the possibility of instituting Damian. Something like this does not dub well for Master Damian's ability in the field. Civilian or Cape."

His words send a cold chill down everyone's backs. It was like the air itself was holding its breath as they turned to look at Bruce, waiting for his call. Bruce had his face in his hands, shoulders shaking in silent tears, but he nodded. "Dami needs help"

Dick stumbled back into his chair, looking like his father had just punched him in the gut. Tim's fingers paused over the keys, eyes hazy and lips tight. Cass' knife stabbed the table, grip knuckle white while Jason swore up a storm, slamming a fist down.

Steph, Duke, and Babs remained in their spot, but their faces had angry frowns. Bitter that they could do no more as they glared into the air around them. The three had always been more silent rage than the rest, the kind that forced the air around them when the rest of the Bats burned in it.

"We have to-" Bruce's words get cut off by the Cave communication bell. The camera on the Batcomputer turns on, displaying Damian in a rather fetching streetwear outfit.

"Hello, Father." He said calmly, aiming the camera so they could see he was inside a stale bathroom. "I am calling to ask permission to invite Daniel to dinner at the Manor. We were going to get some pizza after our latest dancing video, but the one Daniel adores was closed for construction, and it's getting rather late for other places. Daniel lives in the bad side of town, so his sister would rather he not be out too late."

Oh gods, Daniel had a sister now? One that limited Damian's movements?

"Of course, son," Bruce heard himself say. A heavy lump developed in his throat as a broad, pleased smile spread across his child's face. Bruce is no stranger to heartbreak, but he felt it cracking as Damian reminded him that Daniel was a civilian, so they needed to ensure that vigilante things were out of sight. "That sounds fine, Dami. We will be waiting for you both."

"We?"

"Your siblings want to meet Daniel." Bruce clarifies, looking around the table of his children, who look back at Damian with pity. "Don't you?"

Dick presses a hand against his mouth, nodding his head. "We sure do. Heard so much about Daniel, it would be a shame not to."

"Very well." Damian yields after some thought. "We shall be home in an hour. Alfred, could you make some meat lasagna? That's Daniel's favorite food."

"It's making him ask for meat." Jason curses under her breath "on top of everything else?"

Thankfully, it's too soft for Damian to hear, so Alfred speaks up. "Of course,e Master Damian."

"Replace the béchamel sauce with layers of cheese, please." Damian requests, smile turning a bit soft and gooey. "Daniel prefers it that way."

"Right away, sir."

The call ends, and the cave erupts into noise. Bruce springs to his feet, shouting out orders. They will think of what to do now that Damian has introduced them to Daniel.

Multiple JusticeLeague-approved therapists are called, Black Carnary is on speed dial for any help they may need, and the kids brush up on their mental illness assistant packages. They don't plan on confronting Damian tonight about it, but they will carefully prob to see what exactly Daniel and his sister make Damian do.

____________________________________________________________

Alfred's face spams an hour late as he watches the front gate security cameras. Master Damian arrives in an Uber, holding the door open and offering his hand to the air as if attempting to help someone get out of the vehicle. The boy waves away the driver, then keeps his hand wrapped around nothing as he strides to the Manor in sure steps.

Alfred doesn't have the auto on, but he can tell by the movement of Master Damian's lips that he is speaking to it.

Alfred moves to the front door, fixing his vest to gather courage before opening the door, a calm Welcome home, Master Damian on his lips.

Only to choke on his spite at the sight of another young boy the same age as Master Damian standing right where Daniel should be. He even has his fingers interlocked with Master Damian.

"Alfred, this is Daniel Fenton. Daniel, this is my family butler, Alfred Pennyworth."

"You're real," Alfred breathes, staring wide-eyed at the boy who offers him a wave. It's such a whiplash from the emotional turmoil of this afternoon that he forgets himself and his manners as he gawks at the child.

"Um, I sure am?" Daniel, for his part, looks a little uneasy, which prompts Master Damian to step in front of him, shielding him with his body. His green eyes are blazing with slight protective rage.

"I did not see you in the camera...." He hears himself say as if that was justification for his reaction.

Master Domain's shoulders relax. "Yes, Daniel does not appear on any form of record. It happens. Come, Daniel, I'll show you my room while dinner is made."

"Cool. Can we practice some new moves, too? I really want to get the choreography for our new song down."

"Of course."

Alfred steps back, allowing the children to walk inside, climb up the stairs, and vanish from sight. He fumbles for his phone, knowing he has to report this before Master Bruce and the other children make fools of themselves.

Goodness, he didn't even start on the meat lasagna. He didn't think he was actually going to feed someone.

[deadsetobsessions]

Bruce “Sad Wet Cat of a Man” Wayne meets Danny “Sad Wet Cat of a Teenager” and immediately adopts him. A prompt? A fic starter?

——

This was pathetic, Bruce groused, wringing his cape under the mostly effective shelter of an awning. Amity’s rain was somehow more potent than that of Gotham and it managed to soak the waterproof fabric of his cape. This was not scientifically possible.

Bruce refrained from giving into the urge of slamming his head backwards into the wall.

“You’re new in town, aren’t ya?”

Bruce subtly startled, head swiveling over to the presence he somehow hadn’t detected. His heart gave a little squeeze- and, uh oh, that’s the squeeze he got when he adopted his kids. Bruce was self aware enough to see where this was going, but as usual, he was helpless to stop it.

Batman slightly dipped his head. How did the child know?

Like he read his mind, the teenager nodded. “You look like it. We know everyone in Amity. And you’re new. Tourists.” He chuckled, brushing the weird rain out of his hair. “And, you’re soaked.”

“This is waterproof,” Batman growled.

“Yeah, in other places of the world, maybe,” At Bruce’s questioning look (not that anyone other than liminal could have figured out his friendly intentions via the scary glare he had on), the kid elaborated further. “but you didn’t get Amity-made textiles. They’re made to last in any weather.”

“This is rain.”

“Ecto-contaminated rain, yeah.” The kid sighed, one hand absently fluffing up his hair and getting rid of stray green-tinged water droplets. “I’m Danny. I guess I’m your Amity tour guide today.”

Well, Bruce wasn’t the type to turn down an advantage. If this was a trap one of his enemies made for him to stumble into, Bruce had to admit it was well made and well researched. He never could turn away kids, especially ones that had that edge of work weary exhaustion to them like Danny did.

Danny, as expected, tried to fill in the silence. Alfred's technique always worked. Even on Bruce himself.

"This is the mall, by the way. It's dead right now because you're here on a Wednesday during school hours." Danny smirked to himself.

"Why are you not in school then?"

"It's called skipping. Or, for you, I guess it'd be 'playing hooky,'" Danny sassed, making quotation marks with his hands. He was exactly like Dick.

Bruce felt his heart melt. Oh no. Alfred was going to be mad again. But... it was for a good cause! And besides, what are the chances that Danny'd be a crime fighting vigilante? Can't be that high, right? (Bruce conveniently avoided the fact that statistically, the chances of him adopting baby vigilantes were pretty much at a hundred percent success rate.)

"Hng." He grunted. Danny rolled his eyes. Like Jason and Damian and Stephanie. "Where are your parents?"

He had to get the important stuff squared away first.

Danny shrugged. "Come on. There's a fabric store that way. We'll make you a rain guard first so your stuff doesn't get wet."

Ah, classic avoidance. Danny sure reminded him of Tim. Bruce inclined his head. "Lead the way."

[haveihitanerve]

Dad How Do I but with Bruce Wayne.

Bruce who teaches life advice- showing kids how to tie a tie, how to tie their shoes, braid their hair, teaching young adults to do taxes, to surf, the best lawyers to hire when in trouble, how to avoid scams, he educates the less fortunate on the best places to get free food, where to go in Wayne Enterprises for a hot shower and some toiletries, how to eat at formal functions so the higher elite have one less thing to criticize them on. He teaches people how to do card tricks and make your niece laugh by pulling out a quarter from behind her ear, teaches moms how to rock their baby to sleep properly, teaches teens to do front flips and cartwheels and calculus, educates them on how to write job applications and two weeks notice letters. He teaches people to sew, to cook(alfred helps) to assemble an IKEA shelf, how to work a lawn mower, and all sorts of different things. And when his son dies… Bruce uses his account to share his grief, his story, shares everything about Jason, what a delight he was, how awesome he was, how much he loved to read and school… and then one day, he gets Batman to join a video. And the hero is stiff and everyone can see the exhaustion, the anger and sadness in his joints, his movements, radiating off him. But he sits down heavily into the chair Bruce Wayne had previously vacated… and begins to speak. He tells the story of Robin, his young child sidekick, who just like Jason Wayne, was murdered by the Joker. He tells everyone how his little boy tried to save Jason Todd, and how they both perished in the aftermath. He tells people about his grief, his anger, and why Batman is suddenly harsher and hurts more. “Because I hurt more.” he confesses quietly, and the people finally get to meet the man behind the mask (figuratively) and truly get to see who their hero really is. The account’s popularity skyrockets, and soon Batman is a lot more common to be seen, teaching people how to defend themselves and handle the Batarangs he knows they collect after he fights. Nightwing shows up too sometimes, teaching more elegant flips and tricks and they demonstrate their workout together, and a few months later, Batman shyly introduces his new Robin, same messy black hair as the one before, but slightly smaller, and theres something… more behind those lenses in his mask. But the kid is soon a fan favorite, making sarcastic comments and countering Nightwings witty remarks, and the people get to see a new side of Batman, get to watch as he rolls his eyes at them, as he uses them to teach people how to disguise themselves, ways to use clothes to stem blood, tie tourniquets. 

Then Red Hood returns. And a kid in Crime Alley catches him cursing at his jacket because a button fell off and he cant get it back on. “Um! Mr. Red Hood sir?” the kid pipes anxiously. Red Hood turns to him, angry, but the kid doesn't back down and just goes “You should watch ‘Mr. Wayne How Do I: Sewing’ it'll help.” and then he scampers off. And Jason is pissed and even more angry because of course while he was dead Bruce decides to become a father to everyone in Gotham. But he watches the video. And it helps. And… well, its one of the older videos. And Jason finds another old video. The one about… the one about his death. It shouldn't make his anger lessen, shouldn't make him cry, shouldn't bring him to Bruce’s doorstep where he reveals himself and they hug and cry and catch up and cry some more… but it does. 

Gothamites are a little surprised when their local Crime Lord appears on the channel, standing right next to Batman. Surprised, but pleased. Because Batman looks happy in a way he hasn't in a long time and well… Red Hood watched out for them too. And now their two protectors are working together.

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 3

Finally getting a tiny bit of Bruce's monologue!! And uh oh, looks like you've gotta clock in!

As the car began to move, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of panic. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. You tried your best to focus on anything but the Waynes, your mind desperately attempting to process what just happened in the parking lot. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. It was then that Damian decided to break the awkward silence.

“Father, what is the meaning of bringing her along with us?” Damian spoke curtly, disdain marring his voice when mentioning you.

As much as you disliked him as well, he had a point. Why the hell are you sitting here with them?

Bruce glanced at Damian. Truth be told, he didn't quite know why. While you were his child, one out of the only two biological children he had, he had never really had the time or care to acknowledge you. You coming into his life abruptly disturbed everything, so he paid you no mind. He’ll admit, it wasn't fair of him to do so, but he had bigger things to worry about. He was tired, and a child that wasn't involved with his night business, who did not understand what his life of vigilantism took out of him, would never understand the sacrifices that he's had to make. It wasn't until seeing you on the football field, happy, talking to your friends and acting in a way he'd never seen you do, he'd begun to realize what he missed. 

When did you get so tall? He could have sworn you were no taller than his waist. And when did you join the cheerleading team? And who was that girl throwing her arm around you? Who was that boy? Gods, just how much has he missed? 

But he couldn't say all of that. So instead he just replied, “She's a part of this family, Damian and she needed a ride back home.”

He could feel Cassandra’s knowing stare, she could read him better than anybody and she knew the inner turmoil brewing in his heart. That's coupled with Stephanie’s smirk and Dick’s predatory grin. Jason grunted in response, clearly not pleased with the arrangement. Lastly, he could see the disbelief on your face, as if you couldn't believe you'd even be considered part of this family. And he’s mostly to blame. 

He internally sighed. He'd have to work on that. You were his daughter. His. It was his job to keep you safe and happy. It was his job to make sure you felt loved. And right now? He was no better than Jannet and Jack Drake leaving poor Tim to fend for himself. But that would all soon change, starting with himself and his children.

You on the other hand were still reeling from Bruce’s words. “Family”? Is he fucking kidding or what?

Dick, always the one to break the tension with his charm, spoke up next. "Hey, (Y/n), when did you become a cheerleader? I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff." Dick said with that condescending tone.

Your eyes twitched. You did not like his tone.

“That's none of your business Dick.” You shot back before you could even think.

Everyone looked your way. Whoops, that was your bad. 

It was Jasons turn to get upset, “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growled, ever possessive over his older brother.

You immediately froze up, offering a quick and quiet apology before retreating into your own head. Jason–Jason scared you more than any of the others. You knew about his pit rage, you knew about the bloody and beaten bodies he's left in the wake of his rage. You knew he’d never dream of hurting his family, the pit often aiding in his possessive tendencies over the rest of the bats but– you weren't family. And you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Jason’s wrath.

If anyone had continued talking to you, you wouldn’t know. The sound around you was muffled like your head was filled with cotton and you could feel yourself shaking. You wanted out. Now. Thankfully, the rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Sure, everyone would occasionally turn their eyes towards you, making you shrink further in on yourself, but you were almost at the manor. The vehicle barely came to a stop before you were throwing yourself out the door and into the manor. You bid Alfred a quick “goodbye” and “thank you” before bolting up the stairs and into your room. 

You locked the door, not that anyone would bother coming up to your room, but still it gave you security nonetheless. You stripped and hopped into the shower, the soreness in your body now making itself known. God it was gonna suck tomorrow. Why? Because it was Friday today, that meant tomorrow would be Saturday, and that meant that you'd have to go to work at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. Plus, you didn't even have your bike, so you’d have to rely on Alfred to take you and bring you back. Great.

So with a heavy heart and heavy limbs, you tucked yourself into bed ready for the worst sleep of your life. 

You wake up to the grating sound of your iphone alarm, as you groggily get up to brush your teeth, shower and get ready for the long day ahead. Making your way down for a cup of coffee, sleep still in your eyes, you fail to notice the looming figure of Tim Drake already sipping his own coffee. It was dark downstairs and you were still fighting off exhaustion from the day before, so who could blame you for not seeing the corner of the cabinet. Before you knew it, you were hunched over on the floor grabbing your pinkie toe in pain. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurt! Holy shit, kill yourself, kill yourself! Who the fuck puts a cabinet there, oh my god.” You wailed in pain, cursing at the damn cabinet. You’d blame it on delirium and exhaustion. Honestly, it was an expected crashout.

You laid pathetically on the floor for a couple of more seconds before you heard a monotone, disinterested voice make itself known.

“Are you done now?” Tim says from behind you.

You yelp in surprise, before clumsily scrambling up and turning around. And there he was, sitting at the counter, coffee in hand and an almost (dare you say) amused look on his face. You blanche. Shit, how long has he been sitting there? Oh god, please don't say he’s witnessed the entirety of your embarrassing crashout? 

And as if reading your mind, he cryptically answers, “Yes, I've been here this entire time.” All while sipping his coffee as his calculating eyes scarily bore into your figure.

You don't know what to say, embarrassed out of your mind, so you just apologize. 

“Right–um, sorry about that. I’m just tryna get some coffee. I'll be out your way.” You hastily say before turning, tail tucked back towards the coffee pot. 

You could still feel the weight of Tim’s stare on you but you're too tired and embarrassed to care. You pour yourself a big cup of straight up black coffee and proceed to chug it while walking towards the sink. After finishing it, you proceeded to gag for a few seconds, the bitter taste still permeating your mouth. God you hated the taste of black coffee, but you’d do whatever it takes to not fall asleep on the job. You discard your cup into the sink before you decide to find Alfred, it was 4:37 am and you needed to clock in by 5:00 am or else your ass was grass. You conveniently ignore Tim who has watched all of your misfortune happen this morning. He doesn't say anything when you leave the dining/kitchen area, just eerily watches. 

God, he made you nervous.

Anyways, your quest to find Alfred was short lived as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, Damian in tow (you could feel the scar on your face burning). Great, was everyone up at this ungodly hour or was it just them two? You avoided the heat of Damian’s glare as you relayed to Alfred your predicament, apologizing profusely since you did ask him last minute. He simply smiled at you, letting you know that “it is never a hindrance when you need something Master (Y/n).” You smiled back in relief, thanking him once more as Alfred got ready to drop you off.

But of course, Damian just had to break the silence. 

“What could you possibly need to do at this hour? Alfred has better things to do other than encouraging your galavanting.” Damian spoke sharply.

You just sighed, “Not that it's any of your business, but I have work.”You don't offer any more information as your hand unknowingly caresses the scarred tissue on your face. 

Damian’s eyes draw to your face at the movement, seemingly fixated on the scar he left on you. He doesn’t think much of it, but sometimes, something green and dangerous purrs inside of him. Yes, his mark. It was his mark on your face. As much as he hated you, you were his only other blood-sibling no matter how weak and useless you were. He had bested you, and usually would pay you no mind, you knew your place and would typically remain docile. But recently you’ve been showing a new abrasive side, one he is not particularly fond of.

He’d have to talk to father about it.

Silence permeates the air as he doesnt bother to dignify your disrespect with a response. You’re saved when Alfred comes back with keys, both you and him rushing to whatever vehicle he's pulled out from the large, large selection of coveted cars Bruce owns. Looks like it's a BMW today. You practically throw yourself in, as Alfred speeds away to the cafe you work at. You arrive at work in record speed, bidding Alfred a “goodbye” before rushing to throw your apron on and clock in. 

You’re greeted by the one other person working your shift, Matheo. He’s a sweet boy, very soft-spoken and mostly sticks in the back near the kitchen to bake the pastries while you work the register. Of course he comes and helps with drink orders when it's particularly busy, he’s too kind to leave you to fend for yourself. Regardless, you have a pretty straight forward agreement, which is what spells your doom. It was a regular Saturday shift, with the pilate moms coming in, middle schoolers loitering, and the occasional customer with an attitude. Everything was fine and dandy till three familiar faces walk in.

You were ever the busy body, finishing one last drink before yelling out a quick “I’ll help y’all shortly!”, to whoever just walked in. You quickly rush over to the register, not even bothering to look up from the register.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait! Now what can I get you?” You said in your regular customer service voice.

“Well, well, well, turns out you were right Dami, she does work here.” A chillingly familiar voice jests.

You freeze, slowly looking up only to be met with Dick smiling at you. It was not a kind smile, no, there was something dangerous about it. Behind him, you could see the familiar figures of Cassandra and Damian. What the hell are they doing here? God, you should have never mentioned anything to Damian, now you had to deal with this.

“R–right, what can I get you?” You shakily say, putting back on your customer service persona. 

Dick’s smile grows, his teeth now visible, almost as if he was baring his teeth. Danger. Something inside you screamed.

“I’ll just have a vanilla cold brew, extra cold foam. Dami, Cass, what do you want?” Dick grinns.

“Tch, I don't want anything from this place.” Damian says, uninterested.

“Cass?” Dick asks, looking at her.

She comes up to the register, giving Dick a one-off-glance. Worryingly, her eyes seem to be fixated on you. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, holding immensely uncomfortable eye contact with you before relaying her order.

“Just a caramel latte.” Cass says, still looking down at you.

You frantically fill in their orders on the register.

“Will that be all?” You ask. You hoped that was all, you didn't want them spending another minute talking to you.

Dick says a quick cheerful “no” before you ring them up and get started with the two drinks. It doesn't take too much time before you’re calling out their names to come get their drinks. You hope they leave right after. But of course, nothing goes according to your wishes as they grab their drinks and seat themselves at a table. Great.

The minutes after result in further disaster. After a couple of more customers, a lady comes up to you, face already molded into a scowl with a half empty drink in her hand. Oh great, a “karen”.

“Hello ma’am, how can I help you?” You kindly say.

“You! I need a refund. Right. Now!” The lady booms, wagging her finger in your face.

“A refund, right, is there a reason you’re requesting a refund?” 

“A reason!? You made my drink wrong and I want my money back!”

“Please correct me if i'm wrong, but I believe you ordered a double mocha cappuccino, correct?” You ask slowly.

“Yes, that's what I ordered! Why are you asking me all these questions?!”

“Sorry ma’am, but that is the drink I gave you. Is there something specifically wrong with the drink?”

“The drink that you gave me is wrong, you made it wrong! It doesn't taste anything like regular coffee!”

“Oh, well sometimes different cafes use different recipes for the same drink, i think maybe that's why–”

“–Well I don't care! I want a refund!”

You could feel eyes on you as the other patrons start to notice the commotion brewing.

“Ma’am, i'm so sorry but i can't give you a refund, you’ve already drank half the drink. If you would have let me know sooner, I could've remade it for you, but–I'm sorry ma’am I can't give you that refund.”

“Are you serious! Why I never!? It's always bitches like you who try scamming people out of their money!”

“Ma'am, I'm really sorry, it's the company policy. I just work here–” You gently say, trying to calm her down.

“–Go to hell you bitch!” Is all you hear before you’re doused in the face with warm coffee. 

You just stand there is shock, blinking through the coffee. There's no way that just happened. Theo, comes out having heard the commotion (albeit a little too late), only to be met with the sight of you covered in coffee.

“Oh my gosh (Y/n)! I should have come sooner, are you okay?”

“Peachy.” You say, voice audibly watery and cracking.

“I'll take care of everything up here, you go take some time in the back. Clean up or honestly if you don't feel like it, just rest in the back–”

“–It's okay Theo, I–I just need a couple of minutes. I'm fine.”

He gives you a quizzical stare.

“I'm fine. I promise.” You smile, although you could feel your eyes starting to water. 

You hastily walk off to the break room and proceed to cry for a good 2 minutes before deciding to start cleaning yourself up. You do your best to get the coffee that's dried into hair out while wiping down your now sicky arms and face. Changing your apron gets rid of most of the mess, but your shirt underneath still has a couple of large patches of coffee. Sighing, you tidy yourself up as much as possible before heading back to the counter, Theo worriedly waiting for you. You just shoot him a thumbs up and let him know that it’s okay for him to retreat back to the kitchen; he lingers for a moment, hesitant to leave you alone, but drudges back regardless.

There are eyes on you. You look up perturbed, only to find Dick, Cass, and Damian still sitting at their table, sharp stares pinned on your figure. They saw all that happen, didn't they? You mentally cringed. 

Checking your watch, you realize that there are still four more hours left on your shift. Great, that's great–just another four more hours, which is technically thirty minutes eight times, which is technically fifteen minutes sixteen times–and you’ve lost it. Jesus you were losing your mind, which was understandable (honestly you're surprised it hasn't happened sooner) during one of the worst shifts of your life.

It’s fine. You got this. Just four more hours, and you can have your “Mental Breakdown Part Ⅱ™”.

Tag-list!!:

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