I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt
“Woah. You look like shit."
Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.
The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.
"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."
And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.
The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.
If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.
"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.
"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.
"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.
The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.
He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."
There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.
"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."
Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"
"Daniel? Is that you?"
His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.
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a loving family, an unpalatable desire
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.
imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.
you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.
you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.
really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.
yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.
the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.
but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.
you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.
yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.
you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.
you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.
maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.
and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.
''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.
and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.
you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.
your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—
it's everything a parent wants, needs even.
and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.
so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.
a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.
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“Look At Your Girl….” Prank
“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”
>>warnings: Tsukki -> suggestive, cursing
Kageyama, Tsukishima, Atsumu, Hinata
Kageyama
Kageyama was busy preparing his busy volleyball schedule for the next week
It’s been a while since you’ve spent quality time together
So in order to get his attention, you slump beside him with your phone in hand
Sensing your presence, he places an arm around your waist.
“Hey, baby.” He pecks your cheek.
“Hi.”
Without any warning, you play the audio:
Look at your girl.
He looks at you, then at your phone then back at you, confused.
You see how good she looks?
A blush starts to form on his cheeks and his lips curve up into a smile.
Now imagine another guy enjoying her…
His grin immediately drops at the horrifying thought of someone else being with you
“Hmmph.” Kageyama pouts, hearing the rest of the audio.
His grip on your waist has gotten tighter.
“Get up.” He motions to his lap for you to sit on and you gladly hop on.
You can’t stop smiling at his cute little pout.
It was hard to resist a kiss as you leaned in to give him a peck.
You feel his hand move behind your head, bringing you closer and preventing you from pulling away
The kiss lingers a little longer than you intend it to.
“Tob—” He enters his tongue, shutting you up.
He kisses you as if reminding you how much he loves you.
His hands cradle your face as you tightly wrap your arms around his neck.
After a heated make-out session, Kageyama pulls away with a smirk on his face, feeling satisfied with the dazed look on your face
“Tobio…”
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight. On me. I’ll treat you.”
You giggle and it makes his cheeks flush even more.
At the end of the day, you are his and he is yours. he knows that. just likes to be reminded
Tsukishima
“What is it?” Tsukki asks when you approach him slowly on the bed.
He was busy reading a book. He leaves the book open faced down on top of his broad chest.
He leans against the palm of his hand, elbow bent and muscles bulging.
Of course, it’s a habit for you to lay next to him, placing your head on top of his tricep.
“Listen to this!” You pull up your phone to play the audio and Tsukki remains silent to listen.
Look at your girl. His eyebrow raises, looking sideways at you.
You see how good she looks? He nods, giving an impressed look.
Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore…
His face contorts into disgust.
When the audio ends, he picks his book right back up and adjusts his glasses.
No more words exchanged. Nothing.
“Uh, Kei?” You scoff, rubbing your nose against his arm
he ignores you
“you’re annoying” before getting up to leave.
“Aht. aht. aht. Where do you think you’re going, baby?”
“Finding another guy cuz it seems like I don’t mean sh—.”
“Don’t finish that sentence. It’s far from the truth. You know it.” Tsukki practically throws his book to the side, not caring if he lost the page he was on.
“I do. But…”
“But what?” He moves closer to the edge of the bed where you stood, taking your hands in his and kissing them.
“Tell me,” he says against your skin.
“I— I—” Instead of saying anything, you press your lips against his.
You can feel his smirk against your lips.
“If.” Kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Wanted.” Kiss. “To kiss.” Kiss. “Just tell me, baby.”
His lips move towards your neck and you feel his arms pull you in close before falling against the bed.
“I want a kiss,” you say shyly.
He chuckles, nipping your ear.
“Okay, pretty.” Tsukki turns you both over, so that he’s on top.
Before giving you a kiss, he stares at you.
And your eyes tell him that you were longing for more than a kiss tonight.
He definitely feels the same way.
Atsumu
“hmm?” He asks mid-crunch on some chips he was stuffing into his mouth
you were simply watching some videos on your phone while cuddling atsumu when he overheard the quote
“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”
“who th’ fawk is talkin? what does he know about whats mine?” he says with his mouth full
You giggle
“Who’s that, baby?” He keeps asking
“just some internet guy, love”
Atsumu turns on his side to pull you in closer.
“get off it. n pay attention to me now”
You raise your brow. “I thought you’re watching sports…” you say as the tv continues to play a live soccer game
“It’s not even volleyball. It’s okay baby. C’mon..” He puckers his lips, making you squeal and push him away.
Your actions make him pout.
“Whats up? I dont mean shit to you anymore?” He mocks the person from the video.
You giggle. “You have garlic cheese breath.”
“I’ll brush my teeth if thats what it takes to get a damn kiss from ya” He excitedly hops up from the bed.
You slapping his butt as he gets up from the mattress makes him raise a finger at you (as if he isn’t used to it)
Hinata
“You see how good she looks? Now imagine another guy enjoying her, you not meaning shit to her anymore. Exactly, get your act together.”
“Man…” *Hinata says his voice cracking up. Your playful smile disappears.
“Wouldn’t that be a-awful…”
You look at him apologetically.
“Aw baby…that’ll never happen”
Hinata looks dead at you in the eye
“No. tell me. Am I a good boyfriend? Be honest. I can use any critique I can get!”
You sigh
“You’re the sweetest, most loving boyfriend ever. I don’t wanna trade you for anything or anyone, understand Sho?”
He bites his lip, suppressing himself from crying.
“I-I love you, y/n. I mean it.”
You wrap your arms around his neck tightly.
“Well I love ya forever, my sunshine boy”
He holds you close, breathing you in
There’s nothing that feels as good as hugging this man
“Fuck, let me kiss you” *He whispers lowly, already claiming your lips before you get a chance to comprehend his words
You lose your sense of thinking whenever he kisses you
When a small whimper leaves your lips, he chuckles
“Don’t need anyone to tell me how good my baby looks”
And you’re in for an intense love bombing for the next couple of weeks
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