#manor house dining table

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

summary :batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

part 1 of die young

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

- since 2015 , school shootings in the U.S has significantly skyrocketed in comparison to every other decade .

- according to the NCES (National Centre for Education Statistics) during 2020 - 21, there was 93 school shootings , resulting in 43 deaths & 50 injuries.

- there was 332 shooting incidents that occurred in k-12 schools in 2024 , this incident resulted in 267 injuries & fatalities.

- active school shootings typically occur in high-school - about 61.8% .

- many parents grieve the lost of their child , many never recover and end up living their life miserably . This is encouragement to help stop school shootings to prevent innocent children from dying.

Bruce stands in the manor's foyer , his face is maimed with bruises and has grime stuck on it . One hand clutches his bat mask tightly as he stared into the darkness encompassing the long hallway before him. His chest plate is battered , its bat symbol is no longer recognizable , his once pristine cape is now tattered with bullet holes .

He looks so dead - and he feels it , he feels the emptiness. He alone went on patrol tonight , his children did argue - offered to join him tonight, but he declined, and some stubbornly disregarded his declination and attempted to go anyways, but Lord thank Alfred stopping them. Only the two of them understood why he had to go tonight.

They shouldn't have to see how brutal he was tonight - none of them should - none of them should have to witness how he practically almost brutalized some goon for pointing a gun at him - that the sight of that oh so familiar gun brought back memories of him cradling your mutilated body that dreaded day. Or the way he threw rational to the wind as he chased after two face like a mad man for an hour only to dump him in front of blackgate like the scum he was.

He trudges through the darkness of the manor - embraces the quietness and darkness as he slums his tired body against the dining table where his cold dinner sat. He feels bile rising in his throat when he realizes it was placed in front of the same chair you used to always eat in.

He falls to his knees - tears brimming as the memory of your happy small self feeding your plushy a cookie in that same seat. He can practically hear your giggles and the familiar sound of the chair wobbling as you swung your little feet back and forth.

He blinks - and the memory is gone - you are gone - no longer in front of him. He shuffles back on his feet frantically, and like a scared man, he runs away because that was too real - it felt too real - it felt like you were there - like you were home again.

He stumbles up the stairs, and his feet carry him down a familiar route . Even now - when his body is in overdrive - in a panic state - his body still takes him back to you . He stands in front of a familiar door . Yours.

It's lower half is covered in sparkly stickers and a doodled portrait of three stick figures holding hands sticks out. His hands practically shake violently as he pushes open your door .

You stand in front of him , you're wearing the same dress from that day , your hair is styled in the same pig tails he put them and your pink backpack is slung on your shoulders the same way Alfred dropped you off in. You look at him and beamed, " Hello daddy !!" You exclaimed as you embraced his legs - too short to reach his waist.

Bruce doesn't hesitate to crouch down and hug you back , arms encasing you like the precious jewel you were . He feels you snuggling into him like you always did . He pulls you in tighter, and the feel of your familiar warmth and the scent of vanilla perfume fills him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he savors everything , " Sweetheart, you're okay !" He exclaims happily as he observes you . He has to force his head to crane back to look at your snuggled up form. Your cute little self turns to him confused , " Why won't I be okay, Daddy ?" You questioned with a tilt of a head as you looked at him.

Bruce blinks and you were gone . He looks down at himself to only reveal his exhausted body slumped to the floor - the same way he did that night when he grieved that night and it's then he starts to choke on his sobs.

How cruel- how dare life torture him like this ? He chokes on his tears even more as he looks around your room - frantically as if to prove to himself you're still here and that was just a nightmare .

It's empty- despite all the stuffed animals , the scattered toys strewn about , the walls filled with your favorite books to pictures and drawings. There , in the middle of your room laid an empty bed - deprived of the usual light of your nightlight you always put on before bed and most important- deprived of your sleepy figure cuddling the mountain of plushies.

Everything is still left untouched since that day they lost you . He feels a drop in the pit of his stomach as he does a once over of your room - you aren't here yet that felt too real - you sounded to real - too alive to be gone .

He forces himself to stand and close your room - he knows Alfred would have his head if he didn't - the old man considers your room as a place of sanctuary - something that had to be preserved and Bruce would never argue with him because he to believes it as sacred himself.

He forces himself to trudge up the hallway towards his own room and open his door . He looks down the hallway one more time - hoping to see you come running after him with your plushy in hand to ask him to read to you or maybe tuck you in.

He waited for a long time, and he was only greeted by cold looming darkness. He wipes away any more brimming tears before he enters his room - only once the door is shut and he collapses on his bed does he allow himself to succumb to his emptiness.

The golden rays adorned the manor angelically , everyone is wide awake and present at the table . Alfred distracts himself from the temptation to drown himself in his own misery with alcohol but chooses to fuss over the children instead.

He feels numb - he feels angry - he feels everything but nothing at the same time . He masks his irritation by choosing to focus on scrambling Bruce's eggs. He won't tell anyone - not even Bruce that the sight of cold dinner sat in front of the chair you used to sit in every morning and evening to eat irked him -

It felt like a sick cruel joke from God as he mocked - no egged him of your absence. He would never tell anyone how he stood there - eyeing that dinner and that chair as he cried his eyes out before he mustered whatever courage he had left to pick it up and throw it promptly in the trash.

He supposed one of the kids innocently placed it there for Bruce last night - something you would definitely do - because you were just that kind and sweet of a person.

Alfred forces himself to breathe when the smell of burnt toast meets his nostrils. He regains his composure and swiftly throws the toast in the bin before restarting.

Bruce enters the dining room - face a bit somber and dull. Bruce has to internally pray that none of his children questions why - he doesn't know what he'd do if he was to be subjected to another interrogation. He slips into his seat , making sure not to eye the familiar , empty seat next to him because he knows if he only does he'd simply break down.

His children immediately filled the sullen air with their happy chatter. He watches in silence, as Jason and Damian fight one another over waffles , Dick and Tim are discussing a movie they want to see , the girls are talking with Duke about some drama with a classmate they knew apparently.

Alfred stands behind him and set his breakfast , "Morning Master Bruce" he greets. " Morning Alfred," he greets back . Bruce detects the lack of 'good' in Alfred's greeting - though Bruce understands why since if it truly were a good morning you would of been here with them.

" Hey B do you want to join us in a shooting range this evening ?" Dick asks - breaking the silence. Bruce felt his world still around him - in the background - you can hear the sound of clattering utensils as Alfred drops whatever he was doing at the sudden inquiry.

Bruce feels himself hyperventilating at the thought of any of his children near that devilish thing called a gun. He's lost too damn much to it - so for the sheer audacity of Dick to suggest this - feels like a cruel joke. He feels the world consuming him as he merely glances at the empty chair next to him and there - a memory of you eating pancakes while singing replays in front of him . This one was the last morning - the last breakfast him and Alfred had with you.

You look at him and flash your innocent smile at him , " Do you want a pancake papa ?" You ask as you held up a pancake towards him. Bruce has to force his eyes to blink before he loses himself and starts to break down.

Your figure disappears once again and then Bruce turns towards Dick , face void of any emotion. Seeing you once again only finalizes his decision , " No and you aren't going there" Bruce says firmly. Everyone at the table stills and looks at him - defiantly. " What the fuck Bruce it's a shooting range it's not that serious" Jason says . " Exactly father if you don't want to join us just say so" Damian says matter of fact.

Bruce feels his blood freeze. " I said no, and not one of you is going " he says firmly - his eyes narrowing as he stares at each one of them. Everyone looks at him - an unspoken defiance and challenge.

" Fine be that way B ," Dick says - fustrated that Bruce had to shut down a family bonding moment. Alfred approaches the table , his face is void of any emotion as well, eyes distant as he pours everyone a class of marmalade .

" I advise you listen to your father young masters" he says finally. Jason practically rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back , " Not when he's being such an asshole Alfred" Jason quips before leaving. The girls and Duke follow him suit - disappointed at the outcome of this morning as they too were excited to go let off steam .

Tim rocks back in his chair before shaking his head in disappointment as he stares at Bruce, him and Dick finally got up and left, storming off elsewhere. Damian was the last to leave - ensuring he glared at his father . Bruce met his glare- equally defiant as he watches his son storm pass him - not before shoving the empty chair back into the table.

Alfred immediately launches forward to brace the chair's impact against the table . Bruce sits there , head hung low as he stared at your chair longingly.

" Oh sweet heart daddy doesn't know what to do anymore "

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thank you for reading hope you have a good day!

Taglist :@itsmossy @sugarrush-blush @shirp-collector-of-fixations @anteroz @cxcilla @shynerdtriumph @amber-content @azulesworld

[beloveds-embrace]

Noona i NEED to yap about this thought I had about the angst Dukedom au so my brain worms will let me sleep. I Imagine a people's princess duchess who spends time with others to fill in for the lack of emotional connection between her and John and people just do not understand why she is out of the house so much. Tea with the ladies? She's there. Charity event for struggling orphans? Duchess is there to help! Church in the middle of the afternoon on a random day? She's in the pew. The house is taken care of, her parties are enjoyable, but why is she gone so often? Duchess just gives a pained smile and says that her husband does not mind her being gone because neither the staff nor him want her there. Why ask her husband for love when he clearly just needed someone to run the duchy?

Hope your sleep went well <3 i nees these men to suffer tbh

The house runs itself.

At least, that is what you tell yourself. The schedules are in place, the staff well-trained, the estate thriving. You have done your duty as Duchess of Price, managing affairs with grace, ensuring that the duchy’s name remains untarnished, that the books are balanced, and the tenants are provided for. You have even done more than what was expected, expanding the duchy’s charitable reach, establishing new programs for the less fortunate, and ensuring the nobility sees the Price name attached to every act of generosity.

And yet, despite all your efforts, there is no warmth in your home.

The staff keep their distance. There are no hushed greetings in the morning, no inquiry into your health when you sit at the long dining table, staring at your untouched, cold meals that are a stark contrast to the others’ steaming dishes.

They serve you as required, but do not linger. They do not ask if you would like another cup of tea, if your shawl is warm enough, if the flowers in your room are to your liking. You don’t need them to do it, but- it’s the emphasized loneliness that hurts the most.

John is no different.

You see him at dinners, always seated across from you, his gaze never lingering, his words few and functional. He speaks to Kyle more than he speaks to you. He shares glances with Simon that you have never been privy to, and when Johnny appears with a dish in hand, John’s expression softens in a way it never does for you.

Meanwhile, you are… tolerated.

And so, you leave.

Your absence from the manor goes unnoticed at first.

The city welcomes you in ways your home never has. Tea with the noble ladies? You never miss an afternoon, sipping floral blends as you listen to idle gossip, smiling where appropriate. A charity event for struggling orphans? You are the first to arrive, personally distributing warm coats and new shoes to children who look at you with something you rarely receive- gratitude.

Church in the middle of the afternoon? You kneel in silent prayer, hands clasped, seeking answers from a God who offers none. And yet the statues and pews are still not as cold towards you as your own husband.

“Duchess, you do so much,” Lady Bethany remarks one afternoon over luncheon, her fan flicking open with an appreciative snap. She’s a pretty thing, recently wed and already draped in the pretty glow of pregnancy. “I swear, I see you more than your own husband must.”

You laugh softly, demure and mindful. “The duchy has many responsibilities.”

“And yet you make time for everything but your home?” Another lady muses, curiosity laced in her tone.

You lower your gaze to your plate, the question hanging in the air. You have learned to navigate this tightrope of expectations, of unspoken truths wrapped in silk and civility.

With a practiced, pained smile, you say: “My husband does not mind my absence.”

You let the words settle before adding, voice barely above a whisper, “Neither he nor the staff particularly miss me.”

The silence that follows is thick.

Lady Bethany’s fan stills, her eyes softening towards you. Another woman fidgets with her gloves. No one speaks, and you take a sip of your tea, the bitterness sharp on your tongue.

Why ask for love when your husband only needed someone to run the duchy?

And the house remains indifferent to your absence- at first.

The staff continue their duties as usual, the butlers maintaining the schedule, the maids ensuring the rooms remain pristine. No one spares a thought for why you are always gone, only that it makes their jobs easier.

Until, one evening, Kyle pauses in the study, glancing at the untouched tea left on a side table. The Duchess usually ensures the staff are well taken care of, he realizes. Who had reminded them today?

No one.

In the kitchens, Johnny frowns when he notices the ledger left open, the list of requested ingredients unusually long. You had always been meticulous, approving the finest quality for the household, ensuring every item was fresh and of the best stock. The kitchen had run smoothly for months, never wanting for anything.

Now, it was as if no one had noticed the difference until the fruits arrived bruised and the meat not quite up to the usual standard.

Simon notices, too. The events you planned, the invitations you managed, the way you always ensured John’s name was spoken with admiration at every gathering- without you, the social scene seemed… quieter. The duchy’s presence less prominent.

And John notices most of all.

At first, he does not think much of it. His wife was always attending some function or another. That was her role, wasn’t it? To manage the estate, to see to the duchy’s reputation?

But then, he starts seeing the effects of your absence the longer you continue to keep to the people and not the duchy.

The reports come in slower. The meetings with city officials, once neatly arranged for his convenience, are now scattered, delayed. The letters from the nobility are fewer, the invitations sparser. The charitable events- ones that bore the Price name- have dwindled in number.

And the house itself… feels empty.

John returns from meetings to silence. Dinners are quiet, even when the others join him. There is no soft rustling of skirts as you pass through the halls, no gentle murmur of your voice as you speak to the staff.

One evening, he enters his study to find a stack of correspondence on his desk- letters you had handled, decisions you had made.

You had been doing so much.

Too much.

And no one had noticed.

When he finally seeks you out, it is not in your chambers.

John finds you in the drawing room, seated by the window, your hands resting idly in your lap. Your gaze is distant, unfocused, the usual light in your eyes dimmed. Winter was drawing nearer, and so gatherings dwindled in number and as a result, you had to spend more time in this cold, unfeeling house.

For the first time in months, he hesitates.

“…You’ve been busy.” He says at last.

You turn your head slightly, but you do not smile. Or at least, put no effort in making your smile appear genuine. “As have you, my lord.”

He swallows, uncertain. “You have done a fine job with the duchy, wife. The duchy is in good standing.”

You inhale, waiting for the unspoken ‘but.’

“But…” He hesitates. “Some matters are not quite as well-managed as before.”

Your lips curl in a faint, humorless smile. “Did it take you long to notice?”

John exhales slowly. He had not noticed, not until things started slipping. But now, looking at you- at the exhaustion in your frame, the emptiness in your eyes- he realizes you had been holding up far more than he had ever given you credit for.

“… You aren’t here anymore much.” His voice is quiet now, almost careful. As if he is speaking to an animal that will bite him if he misspeaks.

You laugh softly, but there is no joy in it. “Would you want to spend your days in a house where you are not wanted? That aside, I assumed you would prefer not to see me at all.

“I never said you weren’t wanted. Nor have I told you I’d prefer it if you were away.”

“You didn’t need to.”

The realization strikes down much like a hammer, and all that’s left in its wake is silence.

John had always assumed you knew- knew that your marriage was one of convenience, that his affections lay elsewhere, that you were never meant to be part of the life he had built with his men.

But looking at you now, he realizes he had mistaken your silence for understanding. Had mistaken your silence for acceptance, for agreement that you were complete fine with this cruel treatmeant.

He had thought you accepted it, that you preferred the distance.

But had you?

Or had you simply endured it because… there was nothing else to do?

You sigh, bowing your head to avoid his gaze. Your voice is quiet when you speak next, bereft of any hope, any warmth.

“…I shall return to my duties in the morning, and I will keep out of everyone’s way, my lord. Goodnight.”

[sushibuild]

GREYSTONE MANOR

This is a modern classic luxury home, beautifully designed in black, white, and accented with gold. It features spacious areas, with the highlight being a Christmas tree placed in the open two-story staircase hall, perfectly ready for the upcoming holiday season. The home offers a variety of amenities, including a swimming pool, tennis court, guest house, barbecue area, outdoor dining table, bar area, and so much more. Celebrate the holidays and everyday living in unparalleled luxury!✨

Home Tour HERE

More info and Download link HERE

40 x 40 Lot in Brindleton Bay

Fully Furnished

4 Bedrooms (Master bedroom - Walk-in closet- Master bathroom , 1 kids room , 1 Teenager room , 1 Guest room ) & 4 Bathrooms

2 Living Room

Guest House

Dining room , Breakfast Area, Home office , Home Gym , Laundry room,

Outdoor Pool , Outdoor Cooking, and Living spaces

Tennis court only deco

Butler’s room

2 Car Garage

Fully play tested

Explore my collection to see all the builds I've released HERE

♡A huge thanks to the talented creators whose amazing CC transformed this house into a stunning space!♡

*Do not re-upload my builds and claim them as your own. Do not use my builds as a base to create another and upload them*

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[megwritesriddles]

Tightening the Knot ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Reader is captured at the end of the war as the Death Eater's celebrate their victory. She is told she is to marry Tom Riddle, but can't figure out why he'd want her or why she isn't trying harder to escape…

Tags: Forced marriage, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, DarkLord!Tom Riddle, Set after a vague Wizarding War, Not canon or timeline compliant, Voldemort wins, Reader is a member of the Black family, Enemies to lovers (?), Imprisonment, Implied age gap (but i was thinking of it as like 10 years at most, again, not timeline compliant).

Word count: 2.6k

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: This was based on a request that I changed a bit to make myself more comfortable writing it (e.g. making the age gap smaller but vague enough so you can imagine whatever you like while you read it). Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It wasn’t what you would picture as a prison. The plush furnishings, grand windows and monumental bookcases suggested an atmosphere of comfort and luxury, but make no mistake, this palatial room was your holding cell. The order had fallen, and the writing had been on the wall for some time now, however, there was no giving up in the fight against evil, so they fought until the bitter end. You were one of the lucky few still alive after the battle on the grounds of Hogwarts, although you hardly felt lucky given the circumstances. You stared at the ridiculously ornate, but admittedly beautiful, wedding dress hung in the small walk-in-wardrobe across from your bed, wishing it would light on fire from the anger in your gaze alone. But of course, it doesn’t. You have been stripped of your magic, your wand is who knows where and your room is enchanted to allow no magic inside it, all to prevent your escape.

Why he chose you, you can’t understand. Sure, you were from a well-established pureblood family with a deep history as he’d explained to you the one time you’d seen him since your capture, but there were many girls like that for him to have his pick of. You were angry and defiant, you didn’t wish to bend to him, you spoke back and you lashed out when he tried to touch you. Why would he choose that over, say, your relative Bellatrix, who seemed to constantly be vying for his affection and shared your heritage? Throughout the war, you had constantly found yourself facing against him. He had even commented on occasion that it was always you in his way. Perhaps, this was merely his final revenge.

“I don’t even like you!” you’d protested, sitting across from him at the grand dining table of the Malfoy or Nott or Lestrange manor, whichever of his snivelling followers house this was, shackled to the tall-backed, velvet upholstered chair.

“You do,” he’d smiled smoothly, sipping his red wine, eyes drinking you in with something like amusement. “You think I’m handsome, you can’t deny that,” he added with a smirk. Your cheeks bloomed red and you scoffed, looking down at your shackled hand, the other free to allow you to eat. He’s right, you can’t deny it, you’re aware of his skill at legilimency and you’re sure he has watched a few of the dreams you’d had since you’d got here and been told you were to marry him a few weeks ago. Filthy dreams about what your wedding night might look like, how rough he might be with you or how gentle. Later that night, a dream of him bending you over this very dining table, unaware of how close he had been to really doing so. Avoiding his eye, you continued.

“That is hardly enough to base a marriage on,”

“I have known marriages based on less,” he mused. “You will like it more than you think,” The smile that followed those words stirred your stomach in a way you don’t wish to try to interpret.

The wedding is a few days later. The decor in the manor is much darker than the decor for a usual wedding might be, feeling more mournful than anything else. It fits your mood, although from what you gather it’s merely an aesthetic consideration for the death eaters that put the event together. Your dress is beaded in intricate designs, black beads twisting around a white silk base, painting a design of thorns and roses across the fabric that almost reminds you of chains. Beautiful chains. How very fitting. Your veil is black, as is the bouquet of roses you are given to carry down the aisle. You wonder who designed everything, it was beautiful, presumably one of the death eater’s wives who had an otherwise unused eye for aesthetics. Bellatrix, the only relative you have around, is the one to walk you down the aisle, holding your arm oppressively the whole way. She is clearly bitter that she is not in your shoes, but still eager to please Riddle, who waits, standing tall and proud in front of all his death eaters in a pressed, pitch-black suit.

When you reach him, he slides his arm around your back and holds you tight, making sure you couldn’t possibly leave if you tried. He’s never touched you before, his hand is cold, large and imposing, making you want to lean in and away all at once. You are not asked to recite any vows or to say ‘I do’, the decision has been made for you. Once Riddle has agreed that he will take you as his wife, he turns you toward him by your waist and lifts your veil carefully, tutting at your unhappy expression underneath. He cups your chin and tilts your face up, leaning down to kiss you to seal your marriage. The kiss is forceful and possessive, but despite yourself, you lean in just a little, heat shooting through your veins as his lips press to yours. He is handsome and powerful, and as much as you want to resist, as much as you hate all he stands for, your body is weak. His fingers tighten into your dress, gripping the small of your back. You know what it means. You’re his now. 

Riddle keeps you held captive at his side throughout the reception as he talks and drinks with his followers. You can tell from the way they glance at you at his side, that they are as confused as you are about why he chose you to be his bride and not one of the many willing girls and women amongst his followers, but have clearly been told not to dare question his decision. Trying your best to distract yourself, you play with the wedding ring on your finger. A thin serpentine silver band winding around your ring finger, inset with emeralds and black star sapphire. Once again, you wonder who might have picked it out for you. Surely, not Riddle himself? To your surprise, Riddle also wears a wedding band. A plain one with a subtle carving of a serpent, complimenting yours without being anywhere near as ostentatious. It’s a surprise that he would want to advertise himself as being married, you hadn’t expected it, but you aren’t sure what to make of it, so you don’t dwell. At least the food at the beginning of the reception had been delicious, and the cake your favourite flavour, decorated with the same thorny patterns as your dress. 

You find yourself incredibly annoyed to stand around and listen to these men talk and laugh, wanting to retreat to your room, despite knowing what will follow. It’s your wedding night, and Riddle made it clear that he expects you to comply with traditional wedding night activities with him. At first, you were angry and disgusted, but now you just feel like you want to get to it as soon as possible, only to get it over and done with. His ever-present hand on your waist or lower back doesn’t help this feeling. Finally, once he is also sick of listening to his followers' drivel, he guides you out of the hall in which the wedding was held and up the stairs, not towards your quarters, but his own. You’re tense as you walk, knowing what is drawing ever closer and closer. His hand softly rubs your waist as he escorts you, presumably trying to ease a little of your tension, not wanting your apprehension to ruin his wedding night. 

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, which was somehow even larger than the one in the room you’d been staying in, you watch him loosen the tie at his neck, pouring himself a little champagne. 

“Want any, darling?” he smirks, sipping the drink, his eyes roaming the flattering figure your dress gave you. Part of you wondered whether you should drink to numb the experience, but all the same, you wanted your faculties about you. You shake your head silently and he shrugs. “Later then,” Once his drink is finished, he comes to sit beside you. You stiffen as his cold hands gather up your hair and move it out of the way, fingertips brushing the bare skin of your back. He waits a moment before popping the first clasp on your back. Goosebumps erupt across your skin and your muscles tighten, drawing in a breath. “You’re surprisingly willing, I told you that you’d like this more than you thought,” he ponders aloud with a hint of teasing, continuing to pop the clasps down your back. “I almost miss the fight,” he slips the sleeve of the dress off of your shoulder and bites down gently on the bare flesh. “Almost,”

The feeling of the cold air of the room meeting your skin sends a fit of shivers through you, the fabric of the dress pooling at your waist and baring your breasts to the air, your nipples hardening to peaks in an instant. Riddle hums, watching like a hawk over your shoulder, his hands caressing your skin just beneath your breasts, drawing yet another shiver from you. He slowly bites up and down your shoulder, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp, to leave behind small possessive marks. His warm chest presses to your bare back, the soft fabric of his dress shirt brushing against your skin, his suit jacket shed much earlier in the evening. 

“What has you so willing now, darling? You were so… incensed before,” he taunts, just gently brushing his thumbs on the underside of your breasts, his breath tickling your neck. 

“I just want to get it over with,” you mumble, observing as his large hands move across your skin. He chuckles.

“I’m sure,” he hums, clearly not believing you. You wouldn’t believe you either. “Be a good girl and stand for me,” Very hesitantly, and fighting against several tonnes of pride, you rise to your feet, jolting as he gently eases your dress down over your hips, taking caution not to rip the dress or damage the beading. Once it passes the swell of your hips, it falls easily to the ground, leaving you in only a pair of panties. You remain facing away from him, too sheepish to turn. His fingertips trace the edge of the material on your hips, down to your rear. You twitch away from his touch and he tuts. “Come now, you’re only prolonging this,” he gently grips your hips, guiding you back toward the bed, his hands skimming over you as he twists you around and lays you down against the pillows. Staring up at him, you notice a disconcerting predatory look in his eyes, despite the otherwise uncharacteristic softness in his expression. Even more bothersome is the way your stomach flips upon seeing it. He crawls up the bed to loom over you, a smirk decorating his handsome face. “Such a pretty picture you are, my beautiful bride,” he husks, leaning down to nip at your pulse point. You close your eyes. Bride. You couldn’t believe that word was real. This time, you feel the bite of his teeth and you know he’s leaving a proper mark. A whimper leaves your throat despite your reservations and you feel him grin against your skin, pleased to have evidence of your enjoyment of this, despite your performative protestations.

You keep your eyes closed as you feel him withdraw from you, hearing the rustle of fabric as he removes his dress shirt and the clank of metal as he reaches for his belt. Your thighs clench as the reality of what’s coming washes over you properly. Despite everything that you know should have you running for the hills, you are curious, too curious for your own good. So curious that when you feel his fingers hooking into the fabric of your underwear and beginning to softly tug downward, you wordlessly lift your hips and allow him to bare you to his gaze. He growls softly, presumably noticing the arousal that has gathered as he spreads your legs. 

“You don’t like me, darling?” he scoffs, repeating your words from a few days before.

“No,” you murmur. He brushes his thumb against your lower lip, which makes you part them obediently and clench around nothing. He notices your reaction instantly and gives a smug laugh.

“You are a terrible liar,” he purrs, placing his thumb on your tongue. “I think you like me very much,” he watches, enraptured, as you suckle on his thumb for the briefest of moments before you collect yourself once more. 

“I do not,” you protest weakly, finally opening your eyes to look up at him again, but you know you aren’t remotely convincing. “There is a difference between liking and lusting,” you huff. He rolls his eyes, though he looks amused.

“I suppose that is true, I’ll give you that,” he hums, using his now moist thumb to come down and begin gently circling your clit, drawing a ragged gasp from you. “You don’t like me, but right now, I reckon all that matters is lust, don’t you, darling?” Your head falls to the side as you avoid his knowing gaze, breaths coming short as he continues his intoxicating circles, the sensation enhanced by how worked up he has you. Your hips squirm lightly and he just seems to find it entertaining. You hear the rustle of fabric once more but pay it no mind, eyes fluttering shut at the syrupy pleasure he’s providing you.

You shoot up in surprise when you feel him prodding softly at your entrance, your eyes flying open to meet his. He shushes you gently, pushing you back down to lie and despite yourself, you go. His thumb never stops circling, making you more compliant than usual. He’s hot and hard against you and it makes you moan. It’s awful to realise just how badly you want him to press inside.

“You knew it was coming, just relax, we don’t want it to hurt, do we?” he soothes with his slightly patronising tone, but you just give a shaky nod. “There we go, you can be so good when you want to be,” he coos. After a few more calming circles on your clit, he’s pressing inside of you slowly. Your eyes roll back and your lips part, your walls fluttering as you do your best to accommodate him. He shifts, looming over you even more, propping his hand at the side of your head to support his weight. 

His eyes are dark as he stares down at you, growling in pleasure, finally inside of you like he has wished to be for so long. All those years of your infuriating scheming and fighting, only to end up a whimpering mess beneath him in your marital bed. The grin that graces his lips is downright devilish. He has you where he wants you, completely, rocking his hips a few times to draw those rousing mewls from your lips once more. Your hand grips his arm, the cool metal of your wedding band digging into his skin. Finally, he has you here and you’re willing, no matter what you assert. The sinful pleasure he’s giving you feels like sweet revenge as he begins to fuck into you properly, hips slamming into yours, slick sounds filling the room, claiming you entirely, consummating your marriage. The marriage you had claimed not to want, but never once tried to disrupt as it happened.

“You know what I think, darling?” he grunts, you don’t answer with anything other than a cry of pleasure as he angles himself to thrust even deeper inside you. “I think you do like me, and you will forever, whether you want to or not,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

[niwaart]

Hiii i really love your writings can you please give us more of the doctor reader pleaaase🙏🙏🙏🙏

Doctor! Male! Reader X Batfam

[Part1 - Part2 - Part3 - Part4 - part5]

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Bruce has a severe headache, and the family dinner turns into a family war. Damian and Tim try to kill each other, Dick passes out on the floor, Jason and Stephanie die laughing while filming Tim and Damian fighting and filming an unconscious Dick, Cass helps Alfred gather edible food before Tim and Damian destroy it while Duke tries to talk them out of the fight, and Y/N tries to salvage the remaining food (cake) and puts it in her bag. How did this all start?

It all started when Y/N arrived at Wayne Manor, before pressing the bell button he made sure he packed everything he would need today in his bag. What did he pack? He packed several things, first the pepper spray, why? Because what if they accused him of stealing? Or decided to lock him up inside the creepy mansion?... Well he knows he's exaggerating and the reason is because of the series he watches but there's no time for regrets. Second he packed papers proving that he's an adult and can live on his own and has a good salary and job, and third he has lollipops, why? Because he's sure his father is evil to the point that he won't serve candy and cakes early... So Y/N is ready, he was going to take the hospital scalpel but Sammy stopped him and beat him up for that idea... But that's okay.

Y/N took a deep breath, pressed the bell button and waited for someone to open the door, as he expected and saw in his TV series the butler opened the door!... He should really expect from watching those TV series... "Welcome Mr. Y/N, please come in, Mr. Bruce is waiting for you." Alfred stepped aside to let Y/N in, Y/N entered with closed eyes... Why is the house glowing from the inside? Did they buy the sun or something?... Y/N made a note to himself to take sunglasses with him next time... He was sure that if he got out of here alive that meant there would be a next time... Y/N followed Alfred into the dining room, as he walked behind the butler Y/N was looking at the paintings, Bruce and his children... Why are they all wearing black in the pictures? Y/N didn't think much about it, all he wanted was cake... The world is hard sometimes.

When they arrived at the dining room, Bruce greeted them in a formal suit and a bright smile with a model's pose... Y/N wanted to leave now. Bruce approached him with the same smile "Hello son, glad you came." Y/N nodded "Yes, hello, Mr. Wayne." Bruce frowned at Y/N's formal response "You can call me dad you know, no one here but family..." Y/N ignored Bruce's words and sat down in one of the chairs before they forced him to sit next to Bruce. Bruce sighed and sat down in his chair at the head of the table "Well, that's okay, maybe later. Now I want you to meet your siblings, not everyone is here yet but they will be soon." Y/N looked around the table, there were only two people who hadn't arrived... "First off, this is my son Damian." Bruce pointed at Damian, Y/N remembered all the pictures taken of Damian and Bruce, Damian didn't smile once... Creepy. "And this is Timothy." Bruce then pointed to Tim who nodded in greeting and said, "You can call me Tim." Y/N nodded and Bruce continued, "And this is my daughter, Cassandra." Cassandra waved and Y/N did the same. "And this is Duke" Bruce pointed to Duke who smiled shyly at Y/N and Y/N smiled back at Duke. Bruce then pointed to Stephanie who introduced herself before Bruce could. "Hi!! Oh my god, nice to finally meet you!! I'm Stephanie, you can call me Steph." Stephanie extended her hand to shake Y/N's who laughed at her enthusiasm and then shook hers in return. Bruce smiled as he watched his son integrate so seamlessly into the family. Timothy's plan to bring Y/N here via cupcakes was genius.

Maybe bringing chili pepper was a bit much, the family seemed pretty normal… except for the kid, he still looked scary to Y/N, if looks could kill, Y/N would be dead. “Well, time to serve dinner.” Alfred said as he brought the plates with Cassandra’s help. “Cake?!” Y/N said excitedly as he looked at the plates Alfred was holding. Alfred laughed and said, “No, dessert is after dinner, Mr. Y/N.” Y/N’s smile faded, he knew they would keep the cakes late… that’s why he brought the lollipops… He pulled one out of his bag and it caught Damian’s attention. “Aren’t you going to eat Alfred’s food?” Those were Damian’s first words to Y/N and he felt the tone was familiar… Y/N didn’t think much of it, the point was to answer the kid before he choked him. “I came for the cake, so I’d rather keep my stomach empty for dessert.” Y/N said as he put the lollipop in his mouth.

Damian raised an eyebrow at Y/N's words and everyone at the table turned their attention to Y/N who felt like he was in exam class. "We know you love cake but we didn't expect it to be this bad." Stephanie said with a playful smile and Cassandra nodded at her words. Y/N said nothing as he looked at his plate, his pasta... well it looked delicious... but he still wanted cake first. So he pushed the plate away from him. "Can't I have cake now?" Y/N looked at Alfred sadly. But Alfred has strict rules, no dessert unless you eat the main course first. Y/N sighed and looked at his father... then a brilliant idea came to him.

“Dad… can you help me with my plate?” Bruce who was about to choke when Y/N called him dad, looked up from his food to Y/N… Y/N was looking at Bruce with big sad eyes. Bruce was confused… he didn’t know what to do, because his children had never looked at Bruce that way before… in fact no one had… he wasn’t trained to handle this “Okay, I’ll eat your plate.” Bruce sighed in defeat and took Y/N’s plate. Stephanie, Duke, and Tim laughed at Y/N and Bruce’s actions. “Oh man, I can’t believe you made B do what you ordered!” Duke said looking at Bruce who now had two plates and Y/N who was smiling proudly at his great accomplishment. Damian was watching Bruce in shock. Had his father just given in to the demands of someone who had come to the mansion for the first time in his life? No way... Then Damian looked up at Y/N... He should be careful of him in the future, he wouldn't let him take the Robin suit.

While everyone was asking Y/N about himself and his job, he heard the door open, Y/N turned to the door to see two people… oh Bruce’s sons. “Sir Jason, Sir Richard, you’re late, please sit down so I can serve you dinner.” Alfred said who immediately went to the kitchen. “Thank you Alfred. Sorry for being late, but Jason is not an easy person to bring here.” Richard said smiling cheerfully as Jason sighed as he sat down lazily in his chair. “I didn’t want to waste Alfred’s food, that’s why I came.” Jason said aggressively, Jason was sitting next to Y/N who was now terrified. Jason was huge… to his right was Damian who was terrifying enough… and now to his left sat a huge man who could crush him in seconds… reminding him of Red Hood whom he had met before…

Richard had been excited all morning to meet his big brother, finally he wasn't the big one anymore, he could be pampered... Richard approached Y/N from behind while Y/N was distracted by Jason and hugged him from behind which startled Y/N who screamed in horror and hit Richard's head hard, Richard fell unconscious from the headbutt and at the same moment Y/N accidentally pushed Damian's arm causing Damian to throw his spoon in Tim's face... Tim got angry and threw his spoon at Damian who decided to wage war on Tim, he was angry enough that day. Jason and Stephanie burst out laughing and took out their phones. Alfred had already set out a few plates of cupcakes. Y/N wasn't focusing on the trouble he caused, he was focusing on the cupcakes... He had to take the cupcakes, he got away from Damian and Tim who decided to wrestle on the table, Y/N moved to the other side of the table, where the cupcakes were. And he started to collect the plates, since no one was sitting now, Stephanie and Jason were filming Tim and Damian, documenting Richard who was lying on the floor unconscious while Duke was trying to separate Damian and Tim from each other, Y/N asked Alfred for cupcake containers for the cupcakes, Alfred didn’t hesitate to get them, Y/N immediately took the containers and started to grab the cupcakes so he could leave quickly, Cassandra was helping Y/N collect the cupcakes and keep the food away from Damian and Tim. Bruce stood up to stop Damian and Tim who were literally about to kill each other and Duke who gave up and left them while Y/N collected all the cupcakes, but he still needed to apologize to Richard, so he took the lollipop out of his bag and put it in Richard’s pocket then ran out of the dining room as fast as he could with a bag full of cupcakes. He did it! He left alive!

Bruce sighed as he looked at Y/N out the window, then turned to Damian and Tim angrily while Alfred was cleaning the table and Cassandra was trying to wake Richard up, Stephanie and Jason were sharing pictures of Barbara who couldn't come and editing the videos to make them funnier. "That ended badly tonight." Bruce said in frustration... "But it's okay, there's definitely next time." Jason laughed at Bruce's words and replied sarcastically, "Oh yeah, next time will be more fun."

Bruce sighed again and sat back in the chair thinking of a new plan to bring his son here, and keep him here forever this time.

@roxy776699 @missmannequin @theultimatezazasniffer @chericia @mybones537 @thegothamsiren

[ohisms]

↪     𝑺𝑬𝑻𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺 , HISTORICAL 〳 FANTASY edition !   (  a  collection  of  25  settings  based upon the period 〳 fantasy genres ; meant  to  inspire  drabbles  or  be  used  as  prompts . WILL be updated .   )

001. the interior of an elegant carriage .

002. seated at a large dining table set with an elaborate meal .

003. the shadowy corner of a lively tavern .

004. the top of a light house during a raging storm .

005. along the dimly lit corridor of a large manor .

006. the damp , dark brig of a pirate ship .

007. the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time .

008. a theater hall brimming with attendees .

009. the bustling streets of a market town .

010. a sun - drenched vineyard .

011. along a boardwalk overlooking the sea .

012. a moonlit cemetery full of weathered graves .

013. on horseback , deep in the woods .

014. a luxurious drawing room smelling of tea .

015. a sprawling dragon roost , hidden atop craggy mountain peaks .

016. a war - torn battlefield .

017. a beautiful cathedral bustling with churchgoers .

018. within a crammed opera box during a performance .

019. an elegant tearoom serving afternoon refreshments .

020. a lakeside pavilion on an especially hot day .

021. a sprawling network of underground catacombs .

022. a hidden glade in the middle of the woods .

023. the deep , dark dungeon of a castle .

024. a market square full of fruit and fineries .

025. a baker's shop smelling of wonderful pastries .

026. the quiet stables of a large estate .

027. on the outskirts of a magnificent water fountain .

028. in a dimly lit library , hidden amongst the books .

029. among the high walls of a hedge maze .

030. at the front desk of a warm , homey inn .

031. under the protection of a gazebo as it rains .

032. on the landing of a busy train station .

033. a gambling hall alight with raucous laughter and drink .

034. a pristine infirmary , mostly empty .

035. on board a huge ship making a long voyage .

+   20  more  setting  prompts :    6 / 01 / 2024

036. in a sunlit garden adorned with blooming flowers .

037. at the edge of a serene forest lake under a starry sky.

038. within a quiet corridor of a castle during a lavish ball .

039. in a bustling blacksmith's forge , sparks flying .

040. on a rocky cliffside overlooking a vast ocean .

041. in a quaint village square during a festival .

042. within a secret chamber hidden behind a bookshelf .

043. in the grand atrium of a luxurious hotel .

044. along a narrow brick alleyway in a crowded town .

045. within a busy marketplace in a desert town .

046. on a tranquil beach at sunrise .

047. in a cozy cottage with a crackling fireplace .

048. at the helm of a majestic airship soaring through the clouds .

049. in a grand library filled with ancient tomes .

050. on a bustling harbor dock as ships come and go .

051. within a magical forest where the trees glow softly .

052. in an apothecary's shop filled with herbs and potion .

053. at a secluded cabin by a dangerously quick river .

054. within the opulent throne room of a powerful ruler .

055. in an enchanted glade where fairies dance in the moonlight .

[milkbobatyun]

the brief taste of freedom

pairing: yandere!il capitano x reader

genre: angstober, events, yandere

summary: as the captain's wife, others thought the title brought power, fame and money. yet, it was weighed down by the chains of confinement. your yearning to escape had been caught by the captain. would you be able to escape, unscathed?

word count: 1k

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, slight manipulation (?)

a/n: and with that, this fic marks the conclusion of angstober. i hope everyone reads them has enjoyed the fics as much as i have enjoyed writing them (though some were quite rushed LMAO) here where i live, it's already october 31st, so for those who celebrate halloween, happy halloween and have fun trick or treating !! (mini fun fact: this year, i did a home-made cosplay of choso and offered candy/scared children hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

as a child, you had dreamed that love and marriage meant chaste kisses, long vows filled with love and adoration. you relished in the mirages of stunning dresses, chiming wedding bells and petals falling from heaven. but your hopes and fantasies were dashed when you were offered like a prize to the first harbinger, il capitano.

he was a quiet, stoic man of little words. it was no surprise that the wedding ceremony was subdued, a simple signing of a contract, the scratching of pen on paper replacing the chimes of wedding bells.

you should’ve expected this from a harbinger. he held total control over what you could do. your name as il capitano’s wife was merely a façade.

the weight of your title was a mockery. it was supposed to symbolise power, pride, even admiration from the nobles of snezhnaya, but it only brough you confinement and solitude. you had to ask his permission to leave the house, so you stuck to the shadows of the mansion, a wife in name only.

there were no late-night conversations, endearing glances, romantic dinners under candlelight. in fact, you spent most of your time dining alone, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic beats the only sound in the silence.

sometimes, you sat at your window, hearing the maids gossiping about a new festival in town, their laughter and chatter striking a pang of longing within your yearning heart.

he allowed you material things, but outings were out of the question. with every refusal, every permission denied, the fire in you grew stronger. you wanted to escape this frigid prison and experience life.

he knew of how you would sneak into the warmth of the greenhouse at night, peering up at the night sky of snezhnaya, relishing in the display of lights every night.

but recently, he had noticed footprints in the snow, ones that trailed from beneath your window. his butler informed him of how the madame would often retire early in the night, silence engulfing her quarters, with orders to not disturb her until the morning.

il capitano didn’t think there would be a day when he caught you, sneaking away under the watchful gaze of the stars.

il capitano stood by the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the gardens like a silent guardian. in the distance, he could see the warm glow of festival lights, the people bustling like ants.

nursing a glass of wine in his hand, il capitano watched the people mill about.

suddenly, in the shadows of the garden, he caught sight of a huddled figure, wrapped in the silken sheets of your blankets. they clung to the shadows, feet treading carefully in the ice cold, white powder.

anger seized him in its ugly grip. how dare you sneak out of the manor, when he provided you everything you could ask for. his clawed hand tightened against the wine glass, almost crushing the fragile object in his grasp.

silently, he abandoned the cracked glass on the nearest table, his furred cloak settled around his shoulders as he stalked towards the door, footsteps echoing with the intent to confront the one who dared to escape from his grasp.

you were so close to the hole in the garden wall, freedom just a mere few steps away.

your movements are stilled as a cold, clawed hand crushes your wrist in its wrathful grasp, fear coursing down your spine, turning you into an icy statue.

“where,” his voice growled, a threatening edge to his voice. “do you think you’re going?” the cold, no, fear rendered you speechless, your teeth chattering against each other.

“the…the festival,” you manage to whimper out, face grimacing at the force of his grasp on your wrist. you were certain it would be turning tender purple and blue the next morning. your breath was caught in your throat, the last warm puff of air suspended in the air, as though it was holding its breath, waiting to see what the captain would say.

“your little games, it ends here, tonight, in this very garden,” il capitano hisses, his grip unrelenting. under his armour, he could feel how your pulse raced, its rhythm erratic and feeble.

with your remaining hand, you clutched the blanket tighter around you. il capitano could see, underneath, you had donned the plain clothes of commoners.

fury consumed him like a flame. he gave you premium silks from liyue, commissioning the famous lady chiori to design your outfits based on the latest trends. and yet, you lower yourself to the level of those lowly ants and don their filthy clothes.

a muscle twitched in il capitano’s jaw, but your view is obscured by his heavy helmet.

il capitano weighed his choices carefully.

forbid you from leaving and lose your favour or let you go to the festival and risk you running away.

neither seemed favourable to his calculating mind, so he chose to compromise. he would sacrifice his precious time to accompany you to the commoner’s festival.

with a heavy sigh, il capitano relented.

“if you are so intent on mingling with the commoners,” he sighed, voice edged with disdain, “then i will accompany you.”

lit only by the faint moonlight, he watched as astonishment and joy settled into your features, your brows raised in surprise. il capitano, the feared harbinger, would spare a morsel of his time to accompany his wife to a festival hosted by ordinary snezhnaya citizens?

that was unheard of, unprecedented. who knew what rumours the nobles, with an abundance of free time on their hands, would gossip.

the il capitano, going soft for his wife. utterly scandalous.

“but…” the words had barely escaped your lips before you hastily shut your mouth, intent that no more words fell from your lips, lest it cause him to change his mind.

“enough.” his tone was final, leaving no space for argument. “you will have your night, however, you will be under my watch and,” he continued, voice laced with disgust. “you will change out of those filthy clothes before you leave.”

it wasn’t a statement you had wanted, for you didn’t desire to draw attention to yourself when you attended such events, however, something in his voice held a glimmer of a sharp, hidden weapon, a clear warning: this fantasy of escaping would end here, he would not be lenient.

for tonight, your freedom had been granted. you could only pray to the archons that il capitano would feel good humoured enough to accompany you once more, at another time.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[breannasfluff]

Etiquette Lessons

@writingmask Hope you enjoy your gift!

Alfred Pennyworth has a lot of jobs in the Wayne Manor—some stranger than others. One that falls to him with each new addition in the house: etiquette training. As a butler, this shouldn’t be a difficult lesson. Because this is Wayne’s brood, it is an…experience.

“Master Richard, flipping off the stairs to make an entrance is not acceptable at a Gala. Nor is using the chandeliers as a trapeze; you are not the dinner entertainment.”

“Master Jason, kindly return the silverware to the table instead of your pocket. I am happy to find you something else to…hold on to rather than my silver dining set.”

“Master Timothy, this is an informal event. While proper manners are a sign of good breeding, the formality is laying it on a bit thick.”

“Master Damian, knives are for cutting your food. You will not need to assassinate your dinner partner.”

“Master Duke, simply ignore anything else your family does at the dinner table and you will do just fine.”

And now there’s a new teen sitting at the dining table, being instructed on etiquette for formal events.

“Master Danny, you do not need to spear your meatloaf as if this is a jousting match. Try adjusting your hold to wrap around the handle like so, instead.” Alfred holds up his own utensil to demonstrate.

Danny Fenton, the most recent addition hanging around Wayne Manor, does not look convinced.

“It is not going to come alive and bite you,” Alfred tries again.

“Shows what you know.”

The grumble is low enough he’s not supposed to hear it, so Alfred lets it pass. It’s certainly not the worst thing grumbled at him during family lessons.

Danny stabs his meatloaf with the correct grip while massacring it with the accompanying knife.

Read the rest here!

[rheya28]

The Oasis Restaurant ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Welcome to The Oasis, where the desert oasis meets tropical charm. Nestled in the heart of Oasis Springs, this restaurant features lush greenery, cascading water features, and earthy tones that will transport you to a tranquil oasis amidst the desert sands.

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Build Notes

● I used alot of foliage on the ceiling for photo taking purposes, and it can be difficult to see inside when playing. Feel free to delete some/all! ● I also used table settings on the table. Please delete them if you're using this for gameplay as the food will not show up if you dont.

➽ Important Notes:

●Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ Lot Details

Lot Name: The Oasis Lot type: Restaurant Lot size: 30 x 20 Location: Oasis Spring

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi

➽ CC List

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Around the Sims 4 ● Shop sign - Music, front Bbygyal123 ● Abstract Prints Blueteas ● Samara Dining FelixAndre ● Chateau pt [2] ● Colonila pt [1][2][3] ● Florence pt [1][4] ● Shop the look 2 ● Grove pt [1] Harrie ● Brutalist ● Klean pt [2][3] ● Kwatei pt [1] ● Octave pt [2] ● Shop the look 2 ● Spoons pt [2][3] ● Orjanic House of Harlix ● Jardane Max20 ● Cozy Backyard Lilaccreative ● Jewelry store Sign LittleDica ● Rise & Grind My cup of cc ● Maple Manor the Modernist Peacemaker ● Creta Kitchen ● Elsie bedroom ● GentrlyDraping Pierisim ● Domaine Du Clos pt [3] ● MCM pt [1][3] ● Pantry Party ● Winter Garden pt [2] ● Woodland Rach pt [1] Sixam ● Small spaces pantry Syboulette ● Advent 2022 [ceiling lamp] Taurus Design ● Lilith Chilling Areas Tuds ● Cross ● Ind Rustic Sims ● Mexicbeach

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[toast-on-dandelioms]

__Just Another Neglected Story__

This is the part 2 of this

Years passed and you were now 16, almost mute but with a few friends from school, the only place where no one knew you were a Wayne since you refused to take his surname.

You wanted your mother's surname, you refused to let go of that small part that you still had of her. You refused to let go of that and be replaced by a surname from a person that hated you.

You still had some dignity.

You were happy, you finally had your small place where no one could ruin it and you didn't even care that your supposed family didn't even know who you were.

But everything changed when you went to that damn interview to a scientist lab in a big corporation, you needed money for yourself and knowledge to better your inventions and the corporation you went to was better than any Wayne industry.

You were accepted obviously and after a few months you were on a good position as a part timer and helped with experiments with rats and spiders.

What those experiments were? You didn't know and honestly from what you saw when you were allowed to spectate an experiment in process, the animals almost never died and if they did then they would be honored with a small photo on a wall, to thank them for their help.

You were taking a few subjects to their enclosures and while letting a spider inside its little cage, the little legs of it running down your hand and making you shiver a bit but you did a mistake that all your superiors told uou to never make.

You accidentally moved while trying not to drop another animal that was on the table since it kept moving closer to the edge, scaring the spider and making you get bit by it in the process, the sting of the bite making you almost fall down but not before putting the spider in its cage and closing it.

Then you allowed yourself to fall down and hold the injured hand on the chest as you held back the tears by biting your lips and repeating a mantra you had so that you wouldn't seem weak.

You stayed on the ground for a few minutes, waiting for the sting on your hand to stop hurting so much.

You did notice the spider was a venomous one but that only paralyzed the prey making you scared, not wanting to be found paralyzed and get fired after making a stupid mistake.

You kept on reading the file and thanked whatever god was out there that the venom wasn't strong enough to paralyze a human but just making them a bit dizzy, explaining why you felt so dizzy like you drank five bottles of beer.

You finally got up after the bite stopped stinging and pulsing, making you wobble a bit and check the reports about the spider but it didn't said anything about any experiments made on the animal but you were a bit suspicious about it.

You went to the small lab you shared with a few other interns, starting a few tests on yourself to make sure you wouldn't die or have something horrible happen to your body because of some weird mutation.

You checked every test you ran on yourself, making sure to not have missed anything but it didn't showed any changes so you decided to wait until the new day to see if it was a delayed response from the bite.

You decided to go back to the Manor since it's been days and you couldn't sleep at another friend house again, not wanting to bother them with your 'family' problems.

You managed to get there safely enough by taking the bus, entering silently by the front door and just passing by the kitchen while ignoring the loud noises from the dining hall, knowing that they're probably celebrating something and didn't even try to invite you.

You finally arrive to your room, smiling softly at the plate on your desk filled with food and silently thanking Alfred in your mind since you just realised you didn't eat much that day.

You quickly sit down and eat everything with a big smile, making sure to clean the plate and leaving it on a table next to your door outside of your room to thank Alfred, not wanting to do the trip to the kitchen and risk being seen and seeing all of them look at you with confusion as to why you were there.

Like they didn't even remember that you lived there and were surprised that you were there. You hated whenever they looked at you like that.

You finally plop down in bed, face first and fall asleep in a few seconds, not even bothering to change or take a shower since you were exhausted.

You woke up the next day and as you got up you noticed that something changed in your body.

Not something noticeable like a new set of eyes or a new pair of arms like Stitch from Lilo and Stitch, but you felt more flexible.

Like, you were already pretty good at moving your body thanks to the dance lessons you used to take but now you could move your body in positions you never thought were possible.

Your eyesight was also incredibly better and more enhanced, like you could see from pretty far away without having to squint to see it.

You immediately thought of the spider and its bite so you checked the wound but there was nothing, just two small moles (the small black spots) where the bite was supposed to be.

You quickly went to school, deciding to do a few more tests when you would get to the lab to make sure you didn't have anything dangerous in your body.

The day seemed more slow than usual, making you skip school just after an hour in there and quickly go to the corporation you worked at, using the excuse that school was closed because of a sudden villain attack.

No one even questioned it, they just let you in and went on with their day, not even bothering to check since you were in Gotham so that was normal.

You quickly walked to your lab, immediately starting a few more tests on yourself and sighing in defeat when all the results were the same.

Your blood was mixed with the spider on and you were now half spider. You sighed and worked before clocking in early, slowly going to an abandoned park to check what you now had to just learn to live with it.

You ran a few tests on the field, wanting to see what you now had with the DNA of the spider in your body.

You already checked the sight and flexible factor in a small notebook, adding super strenght, weirdly precise reflexes that also helped you when you were in danger.

You just now needed to see if you could walk on walls like spiders, really hoping you could since you wanted to see how that felt like.

You walked up to a deserted building and took off your shoes and socks before setting one foot on the wall, noticing that you couldn't really take it off.

You tried with the other foot and now you were standing sideways on the wall, making you laugh in glee since it was so freaking cool.

You quickly ran around the building walls before getting to the roof and sitting down on the edge since you were tired.

You thought to yourself to just live with these newfound powers, if you can call them that but then noticed many people walking around and being scared.

You noticed how, even though Batman and everyone else kept the streets clean from super villains, small time thieves and other bad people still ran around even after being caught and brought to jail.

You knew you weren't strong enough before but you now had a small advantage over them and decided to help people, make the streets a bit cleaner.

You would never go and fight big villains but small ones were easy so you quickly went to the manor to start your training, wanting to help others.

You first started by creating the costume, making sure to hide your face pretty well since you refused to let anyone know who you were, even though you were a nobody that not even the media knew about.

You then started to create your own vigilante, giving yourself the name of 'Spider', like the hero Spider-Man from the comics you used to read.

Hey, you got bit by a spider and decided to follow that theme, no judgement on that.

You created the web fuel and used a grappling hook that was lying around to create a web shooter, making sure to make it hidden on your wrists.

Then you started to train in the abandoned park that no one ever walked by, using the trees around it and the buildings as a way to learn how to swing around.

You also learned how to fight by spying your "family", recording how they fought and their weak and strong points to also learn from it.

In 2 months you officially became 'Spider', the new spider vigilante that helped the people from small thieves so no one had to be scared to walk on the streets.

You also used a taser if you couldn't fight against someone stronger and you didn't want to kill them with your super strenght, and the taser was the best move.

You didn't even notice but you started to become famous amongst the city, especially after helping a bus from falling off a brige and stopping a well known rapist after the police did nothing.

You just kept going, happy to help and thinking no one even noticed, not noticing that your "family" also started to notice the new vigilante and was starting to ask questions about who it was behind the mask.

But their curiosity may never be satisfied.

Part 3 here!

Tag List

@victoria1676 @cattioo @gaozorous-rex-blog @mylittlediarys-stuff @simpingfor-wakasa @mamapucket

[diamond-rozie]

prompt 02: tim’s birthday present

Tim sat in his empty house at the empty dining table. The table was actually quite large; it had enough seats to sit at least 15 people. But there was just Tim there. 

His parents had promised and sworn up and down that they would come back in time for his birthday. He had everything planned out. He picked out the birthday cake, put on the candles, decorated, ordered his parents' favorite foods, his parents' favorite movie for movie night, popcorn the likes. But that morning, just when Tim was double checking to make sure everything was ready for the most perfect birthday ever, his parents had called to tell him that something really important had come up, and they wouldn’t be able to make it. Tim figured it was better than last year, at least they called this time. 

Tim stared down at the cake, the candles lit. He had heard online that people would make wishes on their birthday cake and blow it out. Tim thought that was a weird thing to do, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

What should he wish for? It would have to be something special that he doesn’t already have. Tim thought for a long moment, the candles bleeding into the frosting of the cake. 

A brother. 

Tim closed his eyes and put his hands together like he’s seen the other children to do in the cartoons. And Tim wished for a big brother. When he finally wished hard enough (whatever that meant) he opened his eyes and blew out what was left of the candles. 

Tim waited. What exactly was he supposed to do now? In the cartoons, everyone would celebrate and cheer and the birthday boy would open his presents. There wasn’t anyone to cheer for Tim, or any presents for him to open. 

Suddenly the house shook, and the loud sound of a crash sound came from the backyard. Quickly, Tim did the sensible thing and go check out what the noise was. That's what the characters always did in horror movies. 

In Tim’s backyard, there was what looked like a weird space ship that had crashed into his backyard. There wasn’t any fire or anything, but the spaceship looked pretty wrecked. Getting closer, Tim could vaguely make out that someone was inside the spaceship. Looking around, he saw what looked like maybe the handle. Tim couldn’t really tell. 

When Tim put his hand on it and tried to open it, something poked out mechanically and pricked his finger. He flinched back instinctively, caressing his finger tip.

“Recognized: Danny Fenton. System Override.” A robotic lady spoke. Who is Danny Fenton? As if to answer him, the space ship opened its hatch, and inside was an unconscious black haired teenager. “System Malfunctioning. Please Assis-” The robotic voice spoke again, before getting cut off as if the power had died. 

Suddenly, Tim remembered his wish. A big brother. 

This was Danny Fenton, and he was supposed to be Tim’s big brother

----

When Danny woke up, he found himself in a very soft plush something. Something that definitely wasn’t the Spector Speeder. Alarmed, he sat up quickly to find that he didn’t recognize where he was at all. He also didn’t recognize the weird kid that was staging at him from two feet away. 

“Hi, I’m Tim. Timothy Drake.” The boy introduced himself almost business like. 

“Uh, hi Tim.” Danny responded awkwardly. “You got any idea where I am?” Danny sat up properly, moving the blanket (?) off of him and turned to face the weird and kinda creepy kid. 

“You’re in Drake Manor. Which is where I live.” He answered again. 

“Ok…ay” Danny nodded thoughtfully. “Any idea how I got here?” Truthfully, Danny hadn’t really been expecting an answer, but he still got one. 

“Because I made a birthday wish to have a big brother.” He answered in the same way he had answered the other question, very matter-of-factly. 

“Ok- Wait. What?” Danny asked, doing a double take at Tim. 

“You’re supposed to be my big brother, right?” Tim was starting to look a little hesitant, and as weirded out as Danny felt he couldn’t help but feel bad about the whole situation. 

“Where are your parents, Tim?” 

“There not home, because they had really important things to do for work.” 

Danny nodded. “Do you know when they’ll be back?” 

Tim shook his head. “They were supposed to come back today, because it’s my birthday. But they said they couldn’t make it.” 

Well, shit. Didn’t that sound awfully like Danny’s birthdays before he had given up on his parents showing up. At least he had Jazz. This kid looked like he was alone. 

Not liking the silence, Tim started fidgeting again. “So, are you gonna be my brother, then?” 

And what was Danny supposed to say, No? Besides, if he was really causing problems being in this random universe, then Clockwork would figure it out. 

Bonus: 

Danny sat at Tim’s dinner table, the kid looking at him radiating in excitement, each with a plate of stupid expensive pasta in front of them. “You said your name was Tim, right?” Danny started thoughtfully. Tim nodded, drinking up everything Danny said. “Well, first course of action as you, big brother. I need to give you a nickname.” 

Tim’s eyes sparkled at the prospect. “Like what?”

Danny tapped his chin exaggeratedly, “Hm… Tim, Tim.” Turing the name around while he absentmindedly twirled his fork between his fingers, Danny wondered what he should come up with. Suddenly, in a misplaced strength, Danny’s fork flew out of his hand. 

Before Danny could even say anything, “I’ll get you a new one!” Tim offered quickly. Getting up from his chair, his foot got tangled behind the leg of the chair and Tim fell quietly on the floor with an oof. 

Danny laughed at him. “You okay, Timbers?” He asked, getting up to check on the boy. 

“Yeah, I like Timbers.” Tim said, a bright smile on his face despite the blossoming bruise on his arm.

------------

table of contents

[blood-smiles]

@missjenniferhardy hey there!! Sorry I couldn’t get back to you asap, my brain thought up something, I’m sorry if it seems messy but I wrote this while I was woozy 😵‍💫

🌶️ UNDER THE CUT!!

Alejandro had long discarded his wife, he wished he could say that he had gotten rid of her completely but still he would find small cameras around his home, hidden in places no one would even think to check,

It seemed like not even a divorce could send Ume away, maybe the next step was to take matters into his own hands and execute some more.. Extreme procedures.

On the bright side of things he had finally started a relationship with his darling! He had longed for domesticity with you for so long.. He decided to take a leave from the office and stay home to make sure everything was to perfection!

..Today you had work, he begged and pleaded for you to stay home with him and that he would pay for all you needed and wanted, but when he said that you just gave him the sweetest puppy eyes—

And so he relented to your request, leaving him home alone for a few hours, he found solace in doing acts of service for you,

He knew that you enjoyed finding water by your bed, he knew exactly how much spice or salt you enjoyed in your food, what exact temperature you bathed in and actually enjoyed, he knew how and which way you liked your clothes ironed— He was a natural at this house husband thing, a bonus was that he enjoyed it!

But he was awfully missing you.. He looked out the window, bouncing his leg anxiously, waiting. Yearning for you to come home.

He waited a while, but after seeing that you weren’t coming home just yet he decided to occupy himself with something else! 

Like cleaning!

He cleared everything off the dining hall table, bending over the long furniture to dust everything off,

He stopped for a moment, a dirty thought snaking into his brain as he bent over the table.. What if you were here? Would you hit from behind..?

He didn’t want to force you into anything like Ume, he was going to initiate intimacy with you only if you approved of it and actually wanted it, he loved you too much, he would never forgive a single soul if he let anyone (including himself) take advantage of your kind heart.

He rested his hands on the smooth wooden banquet table, your hands have touched this table.. You had blessed it with your touch..

He couldn’t help but sit in top of the refectory furniture, leaning his face to rest on the cool surface of the table, his back arched and ass in the air,

He panted as his hands slowly rubbed down his body, gripping his chest and sliding down to his waist,

He didn’t know when it happened but his clothes had been discarded and gathered on the clean carpet,

His nude body exposed to the biting cold air in the room, his hips gently bucked against the table, smearing clear slime on the once pristine table,

He shuddered at the contrasting cold against his burning hot erection, his hands groped his own chest, fingers squeezing his sensitive nipples,

Tears gathered in his eyes from the mix of searing pain and overbearing pleasure, he had a few clothespins earlier.. Maybe those could make do for some clamps,

His manor was far off, acres away from other mansions, so he could let the windows uncovered and no one would see him,

Unfiltered sun rays bled into the dining hall, covering Alejandro in a golden lighting, his soft skin sheening with sweat,

His legs spread as his slim fingers entered his eager hole, finger pads prodded inside his gummy walls, lewd squelching sounds loud and clear,

He moaned loudly, if the house wasn’t vacant and actually had any habitants, he would be sure everyone would hear his sounds,

He imagined that instead of his own fingers they would be yours, kissing his prostate with the tips when you flexed your joints,

“Mmmmghh!” His back arched lifting itself from the cold table,

Not fair, it was not fair, this wasn’t enough, he hated it, why wouldn’t his fingers please him as well as you did? 

He wanted you, he needed you inside him, thrusting into him so hard that his guts would remember the shape of your fingers, so hard that you could re-arrange his insides,

He bit his lips, hard. Small droplets of scarlet dying the inside of his mouth red, the same liquid starting to drip down his chin,

Then he came, unsatisfyingly so, it was the most unpleasant orgasm he has ever experienced, it was always like this when you were away.. Only you were able to trigger pleasure in him,

Warm cum dirtied his lower stomach, he was still twitching and having spasms in his body, his hands shook as he brought his digits into his mouth, his tongue lapping up his own juices greedily,

He missed you, he missed you so so much..

He whined as he cleaned up his mess, getting off the table slowly, his legs still trembling from his recent high,

He slowly dragged himself to the living room, holding onto the walls and door ways,

He took in every single detail of the living room, book cases, small coffee tables, your chair— wait.. Your chair!

He limped towards the stuffed furniture, his erection coming back quickly and painfully, he breathed out small puffs of air,

He stumbled onto his knees, gently gripping the armrest of the small cushions, his nails dug into the soft material as he hoisted himself up,

Sitting on the armrest, the rough texture of the couch like chair being pleasurably painful against the tip of his cock,

He lazily grinder against the cushion, being careful not to hurt himself with the chair’s uncomfortable material,

He would hump your lap like a desperate dog, nothing but praises and thankful mutters being audible, his mind could only come up with images of your face and how your hands would rest on his hips so perfectly, scratching at the protruding bones of his iliac crest,

The intensity of speed drastically increased as he chased his high, his teeth chipping at the scab forming on his lip from earlier,

“Ah!— Ah! Aaa~”

He gasped and whimpered as he came for a second time, this time around being slightly better than the last,

He had scraped the scab off his lip, fresh stream of blood painting his lips a bright rouge, only if you were there you could lick his blood off his lips..

He stared at the floor, it had been a few hours.. four? Maybe five.. He can’t tell, he has no idea how he made it this long without you, well— without you physically, because you were always in his brain, 

It was like you had your own section of brain in his head, always chipping away at his thoughts, not that he cared or was bothered by it.

He didn’t know what else’s to do when you weren’t home, his world revolved around you, he had been wandering around his whole life- Until he found you.

He found his clothes and slowly put them on, maybe making dinner would help him distract himself from the void in his chest,

He finished chopping the vegetables, gently sliding the knife into the knife block again,

He cherishes that specific knife, it was the first thing that made him snap, or like he preferred to call it, a wake up call, it was what helped him realize that Ume would never satisfy him,

He took extra care of that knife.

He walked up the steps of the stair case, his hand smoothing over the wooden railing, he had debated a few times to push Ume over that same railing, he could have said that it was an accident and that she snapped her neck because of the fall,

He chuckled darkly at the image of her neck twisted into an unnatural position, her eyes wide and full of one emotion, betrayal.

He sighed happily at the idea of murdering her, maybe one day, he wouldn’t want you to find out about his homicidal thoughts, you would become scared of him if you were aware of what truly went on inside his head when he wasn’t thinking of you.

You exhaled tiredly, knocking on the large front door a few times, you tapped your shoe against the stone floor as you waited for the door to open and for your lovely boyfriend to greet you,

You waited and waited, soon coming to a realization that no one would come, 

Your heart squeezed in worry and doubt, had something happened and Alejandro was hurt?

You started to panic, shoving your hand into your messenger bag you dug around in the contents, trying to feel for your keys,

You put the key in the lock and twisted it frantically, pushing the door open you walked into the first place you thought he could be in,

The kitchen.

You left your things hung on a hook as you kicked off your shoes and started running towards the kitchen, stopping at the diner table when you saw that it was vacant,

As soon as your hand landed on the wood you touched something wet, you flinched at the strange sensation and instinctively stuck your hand to your side,

You pressed your fingers together then proceeded to separate them, what seemed to be clear slime lathered the tips of your fingers, a thin string connecting the viscous substance,

You raised a brow at it and cleaned it up with a napkin, throwing it away before starting to venture throughout the manor,

You ran through the house, seeing that Alejandro wasn’t in any of the rooms on the first floor, you had begun to worry, had he gone out and didn’t tell you?

You rushed up the stairs, missing a step and almost bashing your head into the wood, you got up from your knees and made your way up the stairs,

You reached the top of the stair case, holding the railing you couldn’t help but look down, your stomach doing a barrel roll inside your body,

You blinked a few times, trying to focus yourself on your actual goal, finding where Alejandro was.

You walked into the first room you saw, being your shared bedroom, your hand rested on the door knob,

Just as you were about to twist the metal you could hear muffled buzzing from the inside of the room, the bed creaking inside the room.

What the hell is going on? 

You opened the door expecting the worst, your eyes widened as you finally found your boyfriend, a flush spreading across your face, heat burning up your cheeks and ears,

Alejandro sat on the bed, sprawled prettily over the messy sheets, a wet spot forming under him, you could see the slick that clung onto his thighs, his cheeks heated, rivaling the reddest of roses,

His sharp eyes looked crazed, gazing lovingly at you from under his long eyelashes, he looked so perfect, even while being disheveled and sweaty he still looked unreal, his long dark lavender hair shining under the setting sun,

Your eyes just had to wander down further, your eyes widened further at what he was wearing, red lingerie—Female lingerie,

the lace barely covered anything up, leaving most of his body to little to no imagination, Alejandro was slim and tall, yet he looked so good.. Your mouth hung ajar as you stared at him, your suit case thumped against the ground as your fingers unfurled from the handle,

The bralette highlighted the slight curve of his chest perfectly, the metal armature wires helping his tits seem rounder and fuller,

Your mouth watered at the thought of fondling and sucking on them, you pulled at your collar shyly when he noticed your gaze, his hand slowly pulled the bralette down, giving you a full view of his chest, his nipples were perky and swollen, you could tell he was touching himself.

You had come to see that red really was his color.

The buzzing had been blocked out completely by how distracted you had been, you kept looking farther down.. Are those red lace Panties? Where did he get that?

the buzzing was coming from a vibrator pressed against his crotch, again, where did he get that?

“Love.. Join me-Hngh! Wi-Will you?~” he opened his legs for you, welcoming you into the bed and into his legs,

He took off the red undergarments painfully slow, teasing you so cruelly,

you didn’t know when, but your body acted in its own, and you found yourself eating him out like he was your last meal.

It seems that the lingerie Ume left behind suites him better than it ever suited her,

Alejandro couldn’t even think, his brain was overloaded with you, he couldn’t think anything else more but that he loved you, he wanted to be consumed by you,

The next morning his voice was hoarse and strained, he didn’t know that making llover with you would feel so good.

He gently put a cover over your form, his eyes soft and caring, he kissed your lips gently, swiping his tongue over your lips, he laughed softly, not even bothering to cover the maniac undertones to his laughter,

Everything is perfect, he loves you and you love him, he may love you too much to be normal, but he never felt love until you arrived,

And no one would take you away from him now.♡

[vi1223]

"Have you got everything you need?"

"Yes, Alfred...."

"Good."

Bruce walked towards the front door and was about to leave when he thought of something. He looked back into the house.

"Alfred?"

Alfred turned around in confusion.

"Yes, Master Bruce?"

"Would you.... Would you like to go with me this time?"

Alfred was shell-shocked.

"Are you.... Are you sure, Master Bruce?"

Bruce smiled and nodded.

"Yes, it's.... it's what my father would have wanted."

Alfred smiled.

"I'll go pack my things."

----

3 years later

Bruce sat at the dining table reading his newspaper when Alfred approached him."

"I noticed you haven't packed for the annual camping trip, Master Bruce. You haven't forgotten, have u?"

Alfred said as he set Bruce’s coffee on the table. Dick stops midway through his breakfast.

"What camping trip?"

Dick asked in confusion.

"No, Alfred, I haven't forgotten. I've just been too busy. And with Dick around, I think we should just skip it this year."

Bruce answered Alfred, ignoring Dick's confused glances.

"Why Master Bruce, you haven't missed a day, I don't think you should start now?"

Dick was getting increasingly annoyed, understandable as a 6-year-old.

"Missed what? What's going on?"

Bruce sighed.

"I'm busy. Besides, I can't exactly leave Dick alone in the manor. And before you suggest staying behind, you know I'm not letting you do that."

"Actually, I was going to suggest you bring the boy along this year."

Alfred nodded towards an excited Dick Grayson.

Before Bruce could protest, Dick jumped out of his seat in excitement.

"Yeah, camping trip!"

Dick exclaimed as he began jumping up and down.

Bruce frowned.

"I don't know...."

"It would be a good bonding experience for you and young master Richard."

Bruce looked thoughtful and sighed.

"Alright."

----

"Are you sure you don't want to come, Alfred?"

"No no, I have far too many chores to do. You boys enjoy yourselves."

Dick was excited. It was his first time going on a trip with Bruce since moving into the mansion. Bruce was so busy with work, they seldom had time to hang out and it often made Dick wonder why Bruce fostered him in the first place.

"So what exactly are we doing again?"

Dick asked, as they headed out.

Bruce sighed.

"When I was little, my dad would take me to hiking in the forest just north of the manor. We would camp the night and watch the sunrise in the morning."

Dick grinned.

"Sounds cool. I've never been camping before."

Bruce smiled fondly at the boy.

"When my parents died, I invited Alfred along with me. And it kind of became a tradition for me and Alfred."

Dick nodded. Bruce had told him a little about his parents' death, but he knew it was still a touchy subject.

"My dad promised to take me camping once."

Dick piped up.

Bruce looked at him with interest.

"But Haley's circus was always moving. We never even had a chance to visit the woods."

Bruce listened with interest. He patted the boy on his head. Alfred was right, this would be good for him and the boy.

Bruce suddenly stopped abruptly. Dick frowned in confusion.

"Why did we stop?"

But Bruce did not answer. Instead, he picked a pebble from the gravel floor. Dick looked on with interest.

"Choose a nice stone. You're gonna need it later."

Dick nodded and grabbed a pebble that caught his eye.

They continued on their hike and finally found a nice clearing. 

"We're here. This is the campsite."

"Yes!"

Dick placed down his things. Bruce did the same, then took the pebble from his pocket and walked over to a corner where a pile of stones were gathered.

Dick followed him curiously.

Bruce took it a marker and handed it to him.

"Write your initials and place down the stone."

He placed down his own rock on a little pile of rocks labeled 'B.W.'

"Each time we come here, we place a rock until we make a little rock mountain. This is mine."

Then he pointed to a smaller stack beside his own labeled 'A.P.'

"This is Alfred's."

Then he gestured to the largest stack labeled 'T.W.'

"And this is my dad's."

Dick did as he was told and admired the other rock structures.

"Whoa. That's tall. Your dad must've come here often."

Bruce smiled.

"He used to come here all the time with his dad. N now I come here with you."

Dick registered the information, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Thanks, Bruce."

"Anytime, son."

----

"Come on, Cass. You should come with us this year! It'll be fun!"

Duke persuaded.

Cass shook her head, stubbornly.

It was the annual camping trip. Bruce and the boys were all packed and ready to go. It was extra exciting, as it was Duke’s first trip with the family.

Steph placed an arm around Cass.

"Yeah, you're never going to convince her to come to your little 'Boy's trip'."

Dick chuckled.

"They're right, you know. We all tried."

Babs walked in.

"Plus, with the boys out of the house. Alfred lets us throw a little girls' night."

Duke looked at them, impressed.

"How'd you make Alfred agree to that?"

Steph shrugged.

"As long as we clean up after ourselves and keep the guest list to a minimum, Alfred sometimes even joins us for mani-pedis"

Dick grinned.

"Fair enough. Come on, let's make sure Tim isn't over-packing. Again."

Duke looked concerned.

"Again?"

Jason nodded.

"Yeah, last year he tried to bring 10 packs of instant coffee. Alfred caught him just in time."

Duke laughed at that. At the corner of his eye, he noticed Damian arguing with Bruce on bringing his pets along on the trip.

----

Duke felt a little silly carrying a pebble in his pocket, but the rest just gave him mysterious grins and said he'd find out later.

Finally, they reached a clearing. Duke began unpacking his things when he noticed the others gathered in a corner.

"What are you guys... doing?"

That's when he noticed the little rock structures with each of their initials. The boys grinned as they added a new rock to their structures.

Duke was still watching in amazement when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to see Bruce smiling at him and handing him a marker.

"It's your turn, son."

Duke smiled and took the marker. He wrote 'D.T.' on his pebble and set it beside Damian's.

"Hey, Bruce! Your pile is almost high as your dad's!"

Jason commented, ruining the perfect moment.

-----

Note: I wrote this a while ago. It was inspired by something, I think it's a comic page. If anybody knows, please help. Thx.

[coldilikeit]

Yandere Batfam x Camp half-blood (Neglected reader)

DC x Pjo

Part 2

______________

"why can't my parent just claim me? My human parent doesn't like me, and now you're telling me there's a chance my godly parent might not even care about me at all?" You huff kicking a rock while walking to the dining pavilion

Annabeth's eyes fill with sympathy "You never know, maybe they're just busy"

"busy my ass... I've heard that excuse so many times before" you sit down at the Hermes table, where all the unwanted children sit

"So (Name), are you going to be a year round student or just for the summer, because we're gonna need Mr.D to sign you in" Travis Stoll one of the head counselors says to you

You think about it for a while, you saw how other children treated each other like family, how there was a director who loves the children as his own, you could find your place here, it doesn't matter if you have parents, you could find your family, just as everyone else in this camp did

"I-" then you stop, you mind going back to the Manor, how you left the hallways burning, and now you're missing, are they worried? Do they want to find you? What if they think you set the house on fire? Would you even have a home to return to?

It's not like you were as loved as Jason who could just die and come back

This set your decision, you are never going back to that cold mansion, you are never going to sleep in a silent room, here, you could build a life for yourself

"I'd like to stay year round" you say

"well that settles it, I'll explain the rules to you later 'kay?" He says

The infamous Mr.D seemingly groaned, you're pretty sure you heard him mumbling "another fucking kid"

___________________

Two days have passed, you feel like the happiest kid on earth

Annabeth is doing this thing where she's trying to help you find your godly parent, you couldn't care less(or could you?), but listen-

Yesterday you just shot 25 consecutive bullseyes and you've never felt so amazing, everyone was clapping their hands and we're praising you, and everyone was saying you were a natural at farming, sword fighting was one you enjoyed, you know a thing or two about combat so you gained respect from the other campers

But even after all those achievements, no one came to claim you

Now you're trying blacksmithing, you loved all the things you did but... The weapons were kinda ugly, every sword in the weaponry looked the same, only special kids get customized swords, so you were kinda hoping to make your own custom weapons and stuff, I mean no parent is gonna give it to you

"Hello!" You smile at the busy forgers, they acknowledge and some nod and some smile back

____________________

Tim looks at CCTV cameras, his eyes wide and in disbelief

A random woman, who somehow broke into the Manor, with a flamethrower, burned a hallway down

He saw this kid, well his little sibling, but I don't think it's appropriate to call you that, you ran crying for help- well you weren't crying for help exactly but you were screaming, you were seen running for your life away from this madwoman

whom he'll safely assume is one of his father's ex lovers or some villain that decided to get back at him

The problem was you.

No sign of you at all

Batman had everyone patrolling, Bruce Wayne reported you missing, a prize reward given to the one who'll find you dead or alive (alive hopefully)

There was this image he couldn't get out of his mind

In the middle of trying to salvage what could be saved in that fire... He spotted a family picture, a picture where everyone was still visible- and only your face had been burned off

He tried to help with the search, thinking about where you could go, what you could do, but he couldn't

He didn't know how you acted or how you'd decide

He knew nothing about you, and so did the others, it was like you were already dead before it was even confirmed

Damian walked in the room "you're still here? Dad already got the JL to help with search, quit trying to show them up"

"I just don't get it, she ran to the garden, but she wasn't there- could there be other villains waiting in the garden and took her? I don't know-"

The demon spawn scoffed "Anyways dad wants you to send the CCTV footage to JL, they said they'll analyze it or something"

Tim was doubtful, it's not like anyone there could spot what he couldn't, he was very observant (of everyone but (name) apparently)

____________________

Sorry it took a long time for me to update 😞, it was pt week and I had a lot of projects

But I wonder who could possibly be (name)'s godly parent?and who could spot what Tim couldn't?

@bat1212 @jisnothere @erikasurfer @nathaly36

[okasuka]

Damian wayne x reader - breakfast!

A Night in Wayne Manor

The drive back to Wayne Manor was quiet but charged with unspoken tension. Y/N could feel Damian’s hand brushing hers on the center console, his occasional glances in her direction enough to make her cheeks warm. By the time they arrived, her pulse was racing, and she wondered if he felt the same.

As the two of them entered the grand manor, the imposing silence of the house seemed to amplify the sound of their footsteps on the marble floor. The rest of the family appeared to be elsewhere, leaving them blissfully alone.

“Want to come up?” Damian asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “To your room?”

He gave her a pointed look. “Unless you’d rather chat with Alfred about proper table settings.”

She smirked, following him up the sweeping staircase. “I’ll take my chances with you.”

Damian led her to his room—a surprisingly minimalist space, considering the grandeur of the rest of the manor. The walls were painted a deep green, accented with black furniture and shelves filled with books, weapons, and the occasional keepsake. A large window overlooked the estate grounds, and a simple bed with crisp black sheets dominated the room.

Y/N took a moment to take it all in before turning to Damian, who had already removed his jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He looked at her expectantly, his gaze softening.

“You can sit, you know,” he said, gesturing to the bed.

She nodded, perching on the edge of the mattress. “So… nice place. Very… you.”

Damian smirked, sitting beside her. “Thanks. I try.”

The room fell quiet again, the weight of the moment settling over them. Y/N fiddled with the hem of her shirt, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Y/N,” Damian said, his voice softer now.

She looked up, meeting his gaze. He leaned in slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back if she wanted to. But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened.

Damian shifted closer, one hand finding her waist while the other cradled the back of her head. Y/N’s hands slid up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. The kiss grew more urgent, their breaths mingling as the world outside the room faded away.

He pulled her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her as their kisses became more fervent. Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair, and she couldn’t help but smile against his lips as he let out a quiet, involuntary sigh.

“Damian,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” he replied, his lips moving to her jaw, trailing soft, deliberate kisses down to her neck.

“This is… new,” she managed, her mind spinning.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Y/N nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Yeah. It’s just… you’re full of surprises, Wayne.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You have no idea.”

The two of them continued for what felt like hours, their movements a careful balance of exploration and restraint. Damian’s hands never strayed too far, and Y/N felt safe in the cocoon of his warmth. Eventually, though, they pulled apart, both of them breathless and smiling.

“We should probably stop,” Damian said, though his tone was reluctant.

Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against his. “Yeah. Before Dick shows up again.”

Damian groaned. “Don’t even joke about that.”

She laughed, sliding off his lap and settling back onto the bed beside him. They stayed like that for a while, their hands entwined as they talked quietly about everything and nothing, the tension between them replaced by a comfortable intimacy.

The Morning After

The smell of coffee and fresh pastries drifted through the air as Y/N made her way down to the manor’s dining room the next morning. She’d woken up in the guest room Damian had insisted she use, her heart still fluttering from the previous night.

As she entered the room, she was greeted by the sight of the entire Bat-family seated around the table. Alfred was setting down a tray of food, while Bruce sipped his coffee, reading the morning paper. Dick and Jason were bickering over a stack of pancakes, their voices carrying across the room.

Damian was already seated, his usual stoic expression softening as he glanced up and saw her.

“Morning,” Y/N said, sliding into the seat beside him.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N,” Alfred said warmly. “I trust you slept well?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, smiling at the older man.

Jason leaned back in his chair, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, look who’s finally joined us. Have a good night, Y/N?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat as she caught the knowing look in Jason’s eyes. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

Dick chimed in, his grin matching Jason’s. “And how’s our little Damian this morning? Feeling… relaxed?”

Damian shot them both a warning glare. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Dick asked innocently. “I’m just making conversation.”

“Sure you are,” Damian muttered, stabbing a piece of fruit with unnecessary force.

Bruce lowered his newspaper, glancing between his sons with a raised eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“No,” Damian said quickly.

“Yes,” Jason and Dick said in unison, their grins widening.

“Boys,” Alfred interrupted, his tone firm but amused. “Perhaps we should let Master Damian and Miss Y/N enjoy their breakfast in peace.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jason quipped, grabbing another pancake.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite her embarrassment. “I see teasing runs in the family.”

“You have no idea,” Damian muttered, earning a round of laughter from the table.

The rest of the meal passed with a mix of playful banter and light conversation. Y/N found herself feeling surprisingly at ease, even as Dick and Jason continued to throw the occasional teasing comment her way.

As they finished eating, Dick leaned across the table, a sly smile on his face. “So, Y/N, any plans for today? Or are you and Damian going to… hang out?”

Damian groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Grayson—”

“What?” Dick said, feigning innocence. “I’m just asking.”

Jason chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “You’re not gonna let him live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Dick said, grinning.

Bruce sighed, setting down his coffee. “And this is why I don’t invite people over for breakfast.”

Y/N laughed, her heart light as she glanced at Damian. Despite the teasing, she couldn’t help but feel grateful for the chaotic warmth of the Wayne family—and for the boy beside her, who made it all worthwhile.

A Morning Full of Blushes

After breakfast, the Wayne family dispersed—Jason disappearing to the garage, Dick heading to the training room, and Bruce retreating to his study. Damian and Y/N lingered in the dining room, savoring the rare moment of quiet.

Y/N glanced at Damian, her cheeks still warm from the teasing she’d endured. “Is it always like this here?”

Damian sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Unfortunately, yes. Grayson and Todd have made it their life’s mission to annoy me.”

“Seems like they enjoy it,” she teased, her lips twitching into a smile.

“They do,” Damian said, his tone deadpan. “It’s infuriating.”

Y/N laughed, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. “I think it’s kind of sweet. In their own weird way, they’re just looking out for you.”

Damian glanced down at her hand, the corners of his mouth softening. “They have a strange way of showing it.”

The moment stretched between them, warm and quiet. Y/N realized her hand was still on his arm and quickly pulled it back, her cheeks heating.

“I—uh, sorry,” she stammered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be,” Damian said, his voice quieter now. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked up at him. “Damian?”

“I meant what I said last night,” he said, his green eyes steady on hers. “Being with you… it’s new for me. But it feels right.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, her fingers curling around his. “It feels right for me too.”

They sat like that for a while, their hands intertwined, before Damian finally stood. “Come on,” he said, tugging her to her feet. “I want to show you something.”

The Manor Grounds

Damian led her outside to the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. The morning sun cast a golden glow over the manicured gardens and rolling hills, the air crisp and fresh.

“This place is beautiful,” Y/N said, her gaze sweeping over the landscape.

“It’s peaceful,” Damian said, his voice quieter now. “I come out here when I need to think.”

They walked side by side along a gravel path, the silence between them comfortable. Damian’s hand brushed against hers as they walked, and after a moment of hesitation, he laced his fingers with hers.

Y/N glanced up at him, her cheeks warm. “You’re full of surprises today.”

Damian smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You bring it out of me.”

They reached a small gazebo nestled among the trees, and Damian led her inside. He leaned against one of the wooden pillars, watching as Y/N explored the space.

“This is amazing,” she said, running her fingers along the intricate carvings on the railing.

“It’s one of the few places in the manor that feels… personal,” Damian admitted.

Y/N turned to face him, her expression softening. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

He shrugged, but there was a hint of color in his cheeks. “I wanted you to see it.”

She stepped closer, her heart pounding as she looked up at him. “Damian… thank you. For everything.”

He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to thank me.”

Y/N smiled, and before she could overthink it, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. Damian stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but then his arms came around her, holding her close.

The warmth of his embrace was steadying, and Y/N felt herself relax against him. “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be,” she teased, her voice muffled against his chest.

“And you’re braver than you let on,” he replied, his voice soft.

They stayed like that for a while, neither of them wanting to pull away. When they finally did, Damian’s cheeks were faintly pink, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“What?” he asked, his tone defensive.

“Nothing,” she said, biting back a laugh. “You’re just cute when you’re flustered.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “You’re impossible.”

Back Inside the Manor

Later that day, the two of them found themselves in the manor’s massive library. Y/N was browsing the shelves, marveling at the sheer number of books, while Damian sat in one of the armchairs, watching her with an amused expression.

“You’re staring,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Am I not allowed to admire my girlfriend?” he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.

The word made Y/N pause, her cheeks warming. She turned to face him, clutching the book in her hands. “Girlfriend, huh?”

Damian arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” she said quickly, her heart racing. “I just… wasn’t expecting you to say it.”

He stood, walking over to her with an easy confidence that made her stomach flip. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N swallowed hard, her gaze flicking to his lips. “Damian…”

Before she could finish, he leaned down and kissed her, his hands resting gently on her waist. It was a soft, lingering kiss, and when he pulled back, Y/N felt like the ground had shifted beneath her.

“You’re full of surprises today,” she whispered, her voice shaky.

“Get used to it,” he replied, smirking.

Evening Teasing

As the day wound down, Y/N and Damian found themselves back in the dining room for dinner. The rest of the Bat-family joined them, and the teasing picked up right where it had left off that morning.

“So,” Jason said, leaning back in his chair. “How was your little tour of the grounds, Y/N?”

“Beautiful,” Y/N said, smiling despite the heat rising in her cheeks.

“I bet,” Dick said, winking at Damian. “Did you show her the gazebo?”

Damian shot him a glare. “Stay out of it, Grayson.”

“Oh, come on,” Dick said, laughing. “It’s cute!”

Bruce cleared his throat, glancing at Damian. “As long as you’re being respectful—”

“Of course I am,” Damian said quickly, his ears turning red.

“Relax, kid,” Jason said, smirking. “We’re just messing with you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Dick said. “I’m genuinely interested in the romance blossoming before our very eyes.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, despite her embarrassment. She glanced at Damian, who looked like he was about to throttle both of his brothers.

“Don’t worry,” she said, placing a hand on his arm.

A Sparring Session in the Training Room

After dinner, Damian suggested they head to the training room—a vast space equipped with every piece of workout and combat gear imaginable.

Y/N followed him, her curiosity piqued. “Do you really train here every day?”

“Most days,” Damian said, holding the door open for her. “If you’re going to be around the Wayne family, you should probably know how to throw a punch.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You do remember I punched out that girl on my first day at Gotham Academy, right?”

He smirked. “True. But I doubt she knew how to counter it. I won’t go easy on you.”

“Oh, is that a challenge?” she teased, stepping into the room.

Damian’s eyes gleamed. “Absolutely.”

Y/N glanced around, taking in the padded mats, punching bags, and an assortment of weapons lining the walls. She stretched her arms and adjusted her stance. “All right, Wayne. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Damian pulled off his hoodie, revealing his toned arms and the black training gear underneath. Y/N’s cheeks warmed, but she quickly shook it off, focusing on the task at hand.

He stepped onto the mat, motioning for her to join him. “We’ll start with basic strikes. Come at me.”

Y/N squared her shoulders, throwing a quick jab toward his midsection. Damian dodged easily, his movements fluid and precise.

“Too slow,” he said, smirking.

She huffed, trying again. This time, she added a feint before aiming for his shoulder, but Damian blocked her effortlessly.

“Better,” he admitted, his tone begrudging.

Y/N grinned, a spark of determination lighting in her eyes. “You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

They continued sparring, the room filling with the sound of their movements and the occasional sharp exhale. Y/N managed to land a few hits, but Damian was clearly holding back, his grin growing wider every time he countered one of her moves.

Finally, she saw her opening. Damian shifted his weight slightly to the left, leaving his side exposed. Y/N lunged forward, catching him off guard as she grabbed his wrist and twisted it behind his back.

“Got you!” she exclaimed triumphantly, her face inches from his.

Damian’s eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “Not bad,” he said, his voice quieter now.

Y/N suddenly realized how close they were, her breath hitching as their eyes met. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, and for a moment, neither of them moved.

But then Damian smirked, his confidence returning. “You let your guard down.”

Before Y/N could react, Damian shifted his weight, trying to reverse their positions. However, his foot slipped on the mat, and they both went tumbling to the ground.

Y/N landed flat on her back, and Damian fell on top of her, his hands braced on either side of her head. Her glasses flew off, sliding across the mat.

“Ow,” she muttered, her cheeks flaming as she realized the position they were in.

Damian’s face was just inches from hers, his green eyes wide and his breath warm against her skin. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice unusually soft.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, her heart pounding.

Neither of them moved. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of them, their faces so close that Y/N could count the faint freckles dusting Damian’s cheeks.

“Damian,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze flicking to her lips.

“I think you’re blushing.”

He let out a quiet laugh, his own cheeks tinged pink. “So are you.”

Y/N bit her lip, her eyes searching his. “Are you going to kiss me or just keep staring?”

Damian’s breath caught, but then he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was tentative at first, but as Y/N’s hands slid up to his shoulders, it deepened.

The kiss was warm and electrifying, sending shivers down Y/N’s spine. She could feel Damian’s heart racing in sync with her own as they lost themselves in the moment.

Finally, they pulled apart, both of them breathless and blushing furiously.

“Well,” Damian said, his voice slightly hoarse. “That wasn’t part of the training session.”

Y/N laughed, her cheeks still warm. “I think I preferred it to getting thrown on the mat.”

He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re not bad, though. For a rookie.”

“Rookie?” she exclaimed, swatting his arm playfully. “I had you pinned!”

“Briefly,” he countered, his tone teasing.

Y/N rolled her eyes, sitting up and looking around. “Great. Now I can’t see anything.”

Damian followed her gaze, spotting her glasses on the other side of the mat. He retrieved them and handed them back to her, his expression soft.

“Thanks,” she said, sliding them on.

He nodded, his fingers brushing hers as he let go. “Anytime.”

Cooling Down

After the sparring session, the two of them sat on the edge of the mat, sipping water and catching their breath.

“So,” Y/N said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “Was that kiss… a one-time thing, or…?”

Damian looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he smirked. “Do you want it to be?”

Her cheeks turned red. “No. I mean, if you don’t—”

“I don’t,” he said quickly, his voice firm.

Y/N smiled, a warm feeling blooming in her chest. “Good.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the tension between them replaced by a quiet sense of understanding.

“You know,” Damian said, breaking the silence. “You’re the first person who’s ever managed to pin me.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he said, his tone serious. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

She laughed, leaning her shoulder against his. “Too late.”

The Next Morning

The following morning, Y/N woke up feeling sore but happy. She replayed the events of the previous night in her mind, a smile tugging at her lips as she remembered the kiss.

After getting dressed, she made her way down to the dining room, where the rest of the family was already gathered.

“Morning, Y/N!” Dick called, grinning at her as she entered. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing at Damian, who was already seated.

Jason smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Did you and Damian have another training session last night?”

Y/N’s cheeks turned red as she quickly took a seat. “Maybe.”

Dick’s grin widened. “You know, you’ve been spending a lot of time together lately. Should we be worried?”

“Worried about what?” Damian asked, his tone clipped.

“Worried that you’re finally going soft,” Jason teased.

Damian glared at him. “I’ll show you soft, Todd.”

“Relax, Damian,” Y/N said, placing a hand on his arm. “They’re just teasing.”

Bruce cleared his throat, glancing between his sons. “As long as you’re both focused on your responsibilities, I don’t see an issue.”

“Thanks, Bruce,” Y/N said, smiling.

Dick leaned closer, his grin mischievous. “So, Y/N, how was the gazebo?”

Y/N choked on her coffee, while Damian shot him a murderous glare.

Jason laughed, slapping the table. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Despite the teasing, Y/N felt a warmth in her chest as she glanced at Damian. He met her gaze, his expression softening.

For the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged.

[babiestbubbles]

Talia and Dick Drabble

Only thought, Talia al Ghul and Dick Grayson having their casual hatred for each other. Like, she moves in and she's a silly w/ Jason and Damian but she and Dick just have this :squints:  :squintsfurther: dynamic 

and they don't like, actively hate each other or are cruel, but there's this kind of underlying disdain 

And then one day, Dick has like, a horrid day

I'm talking, fucked up on patrol last night, got benched from patrol tonight, bombed a test in school, and got hit with like 4 quips about his dead parents for no reason other than Middle school cruelty 

So he's like, guttered in the trenches of hell and Bruce, well meaning and loving as he may be, has no idea how to handle it. Dick is like, lashing out every time anyone approaches. He's isolating, cooped up. And this spans for like 3 days.

By the third day they've learned to leave him alone, to not engage, because if they so much as stare at him for too long, he'll bolt, even if it means sacrificing a meal in the process.

He doesn't eat any of the food left outside his door either. 

Everyone's concerned. No one knows what to do. Bruce is at wit's end.

And then Talia, in all her motherly understanding glory, tells him to take the boys out. To get out of the house, give Alfred errands to run. Empty the manor sans her and Dick for the day.

And Bruce looks at her like she's asked him to hold a knife to her throat. He's painfully confused how sticking a moody dick with his least favorite person in the world, will at all work in her favor.

But she begs him to trust her, and he does.

And to his credit, he more than obliges to her request. Quickly fabricating a 3-day "necessary" outing across the country. Clad with two eager tag-alongs and a knowing Alfred. He worries his lip, concerned that Dick will take this as further rejection, carefully studying his blank expression as he and Talia stand beside the Jet. Poised to wish them a farewell.

But it's Talia who picks up the almost imperceptible exhale of relief when the doors shut. Effectively sealing off Dick from the one source of insufferable monitoring he'd been suffocating in for 3 days now.

The result is instant. By the time an hour has passed since Bruce's departure, Dick seems practically back to himself. Wandering around the manor, though uncharacteristically wordless, with a spring in his step and a passion that had been long missed.

But Talia knew better than to get excited in the face of progress. She had to remain calm, unbothered. Let Dick come to her. Or at least settle into his new space with her alone. 

This was the first time the two had been entirely alone, so she had to upkeep her façade of normalcy. She made it a point to remain in open spaces all of the time. Doing paperwork at the grand dining table, rather than cooped up in Bruce's office. Preparing food loudly in the kitchen. Allowing for the clattering of pots and pans, the whoosh of a running tap Alfred never let carry on for more than a minute drag on for ten, fifteen.

The manor may have been empty, but Talia made it a point to fill the house with life.

And Dick, ever the victim of curiosity, hardly let her efforts go to waste. She'd spot him, like a shadow, peeking behind walls and pillars, watching her. Observing. 

He'd seen her do all of these things before of course.  But that had been for Jason and Damian. For her children. The ones she wanted. The ones she loved.

He supposed it was only natural that she'd keep up her actions, even in temporary absence of her kin. But there was a strange pang in his chest as he observed her. 

A mother in her element. Carefully preparing dinner, even in her lonesome. Her every move dripping with love and passion, intent. She moved with intent.

It was the same way B moved in the field. He never wandered. Never hesitated. He walked like he was going somewhere. 

And she worked as if she had someone to attend to. A hungry child eagerly awaiting their dinner. 

A heavy twisted emotion reverberated in Dick's chest and he had no idea why. 

He retreated back to his room that night. Only daring to inch his way back to the kitchen when he was certain she was asleep.

He found the kitchen spotless when he returned, and it twist something awful in his chest. Of course she hadn't left anything for him. He wasn't her son and he hadn't even had the courtesy to come down and eat with her. He didn't deserve whatever it is she had made, no matter how good it smelled. 

He tried to bite back the sliver of hope in his chest as he opened the fridge. A tiny piece of him holding out hope that she'd at least had the fleeting pity to leave him some leftovers. But any spark of hope he'd had was quickly crushed as he stared back at nothing but produce and other staples. Not a hint of cooked food in sight.

He sighed, biting back the wretched unwanted tears welling up and resigned himself to whatever he could muster in the next 15 minutes, before his appetite was thoroughly purged by disappointment and self pity.

He picked up some 2 day old leftovers Bruce has messily shoved into the back of the fridge, just out of Alfred's sight, and retreated to the microwave. Not caring enough to even take whatever it was out of the container. 

When he opened the microwave, Dick nearly dropped the stupid container. 

Sitting there, innocently wrapped in a lining of plastic wrap, was a plate of food. 

Dick of course, wasn't stupid enough to assume it was for him, and picked it up, trying to squish down the spark of hope that had returned to his chest. It was only as he turned to place it in the fridge, that he noticed the bright green sticky note placed on top of it.

In pretty scrawled cursive it read.

"I thought you might get hungry so I left this for you."

It didn't mean anything, Dick told himself. It was the bare minimum. Common curtesy, the very same that he'd lacked the effort to extend to her earlier. 

That was all it was. It was hardly a heavy task to set aside a plate of food for the only other person in the house. He begged his chest not to swell with desire. With hope, that he may be extended the same luxuries as Jason and Damian. 

The one thing Bruce was never able to buy him. Never able to *give* him.

The gift of being a child. The luxury of being loved and cared for, in that intimate suffocating, insufferable way that only a mother could provide. 

Dick didn't want that anyways. Bruce was a helicopter parent enough. He didn't need Talia and her ever present questions on top of that.

He'd seen the way she interrogated Jason.  Every time he came home. Incessantly badgering him with questions. Everything from "How was school" to "Do you have any homework" and "Did you like the lunch i packed you?"

Dick didn't want that. He liked his freedom, enjoyed his independence. All Talia's care would do it chain him down.

So he warmed up the food. Shoving down the way it tasted painfully familar. The paprika, allspice, and cinnamon dredging up was Dick was certain were unwanted memories. Sarma, and Christmas. Horko jabuka and chilly Gotham nights. 

…

Masali thud and his mother, after the boys he'd been practicing with laughed in his face.

Dick hadn't realized he was crying until he was hiccuping between bites. 

*Dick missed his mother.*

He hadn't realized it a first. Genuinely. He'd been convinced his temperament was bitterness over being banned from patrol and annoyance at middle schooler’s petty attempts at insults. But it wasn't the things that hurt him that had left Dick moody and incapacitated.

It was the lack of comfort. The absence of soft warm arms to lick his wounds in. The hollow emptiness of Bruce's shallow attempts of comfort and the freezing chill of he empty room. *That* is what had torn Dick apart.

That is what had left him miserable and hostile. Desperate to reject a world that had clearly rejected him.

Dick harshly scrubbed at the tears dripping down his face and glance down at his plate. Surprised to find it empty and unsure of how long ago he'd finished his food.

He shakily deposited it in the sink. Grabbing a glass of water and preparing himself for the miserable journey back to his dark empty room.

Yet, as Dick stood in the hallway, not two steps from his destination, he noticed something.  The door, to Bruce and Talia's room, was ajar. It wasn't wide open, no neither Dick nor Talia was stupid enough to think that would be effective, but it was definitely ajar. At least 3 or 4 inches lay between the door and it's frame. 

To anyone else, anyone not raised by the world’s greatest detective and worst paranoiac, it would've been nothing. 

But Dick saw it for what it was. An Invitation.

He was no stranger to climbing into Bruce's bed after nightmares. Blindly wandering through the very same hallway with ghosts of tears in his eyes, just like now. But he hadn't done that in years. Since long before Talia moved in. 

On any other night, Dick would've stared the invitation in the face and declined. He would have strode into his room in disgust, appalled at Talia's audacity to try and reach out the child she clearly despised.

But something about tonight, something about Dick's brokenness, and the cinnamon and clove still wrapped around his teeth, drew him to the door.

Dick took slow shaky steps toward it. Ready to bolt at the sight of life. But it never came

Either Talia was truly asleep, or she was a hell of an actor, because as Dick approached the door not only did he fail to hear so much as a shift in the covers, but his carefully attuned ears also heard her soft even breaths.

As he neared the door, hand still too afraid to reach for the handle, his heart stopped.

He hadn't seen it from so far down the hallway, but now that he was close enough to peer inside the room, it was clear as day. Talia has left the nightstand lamp on.

It was meaningless. Tears pooled in Dicks eyes and sniffled, frustrated at his body's lack of cooperation.

It didn't mean anything. She left the door open on accident and forgot to turn off the light. She must've been really tired, she did a lot of paperwork today.

But Dick couldn’t bring himself to believe his pitiful lie for even a moment.

He was just too scared to entertain the truth.

Bruce slept with the light off every night. He couldn't sleep with lights on in his room, it's part of the reason Dick started sleeping in his own room actually. Dick was the exact opposite. Dick was terrified of the dark.

It was a bit ironic. Night stalking, crime fighting, fearless vigilante Robin, was afraid of the dark. But he couldn't help it. There was something about that pitch black emptiness. The unknowing aspect of darkness, that terrified him. 

Dick had never told a soul. He told Bruce he just preferred his own room, told Alfred the night light was a saftey measure, to ward off emergency intruders. Told Talia nothing at all, he didn't owe her an explanation and he'd rather die that willingly admit weakness to her.

But she'd noticed. Despite his bitterness, and his distance, and his childish effort to conceal his phobia, she had noticed. The blinding lights left on in the kitchen and the hallway, hell the entire rest of the manor, could be disregarded. She'd left them on knowing someone else was in the house to turn them off, and knowing if he didn't, they's shut off on their own eventually.

But to leave on *her* bedside Lamp?

In *her* room?

It was a sign. Another invitation. The final tug Dick needed to yank open the door and stumble his way into the room. Hiccuping with harsh, painful sobs.

(Different from my usual content but I love them, lmk if i should make this into a fic)