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little-mizz-horror · 3 months

Note

Yello how are you? I hope your doing okay can I please request Michael Myers, Jason, Thomas, Vincent Sinclair, Asa Emory, Billy Loomis, and Stu react to their s/o crying so hard they have a nose bleed

Please and thank you

Thank you so much for the request and for the patience!!! I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I'm excited to finally write it! this is something I sympathize with SO MUCH as someone who gets incredibly frequent nosebleeds... sigh ;w;

I said this with the last request, but I'm only taking four characters from now on. Nothing against you as you submitted this request before I added that, but as such I only picked four characters from your list, so I hope that's okay with you!!! Thank you so much again dear! <3

Slashers with an S/O Who Gets Nosebleeds From Crying

Slashers Included: Jason Voorhees | Asa Emory | Vincent Sinclair | Stu Macher

Warnings: nosebleeds (obviously), mentions of a centipede in Asa's

~~~

JASON VOORHEES

Jason was already offput (lovingly) by the tears and snot running out of your face like a flood. So when that clear snot coming from your left nostril suddenly became a consistent crimson red color, he was beyond panicked.

All you were doing was watching a cheesy romance movie. The TV you had set up in Jason's cabin with your crappy VHS player wasn't even showing a good enough picture through the constantly moving static and tape interference. How were you crying hard enough that you got a nosebleed?

You hadn't even noticed the way you started bleeding until Jason's frazzled grunts and whimpers while shaking your shoulder alerted your attention to it.

"Oh jeez, not again," you simply uttered through your emotional blubbering over your rom-com VHS. You had wiped your face with your sleeve to see what had your boyfriend up in arms about, and were completely unfazed with the smear of wet, slippery blood that now coated your cardigan. You stood nonchalantly and paced to a nearby end table where you kept a dusty tissue box, using the paper towel to wipe the skin of your cupid's bow and lips free from blood and mucus, before pinching your fingers around the bridge of your nose.

If Jason could vocalize better, he'd probably say something like, "What do you mean 'again'?! This happens a lot?!" He simply stared at you.

You chuckled, nasally, as you held your nose closed. You could see the mix of bewilderment and confusion in Jason's eyes through the holes of his hockey mask. "Sorry, Jason, this happens a lot! I haven't had a nosebleed in a few months though, it was about time." You brought the tissue box back to your spot on the dusty couch, flopping next to him again. You removed your fingers from the bridge of your nose to inhale slowly through your nostrils before pinching your bridge again. "I have dry sinuses sometimes, and it causes nosebleeds when there's pressure in my face... like from crying."

The movie was completely forgotten. And honestly, if Jason now knew that crying could give you massive nosebleeds, he'd rather have you watching horror movies instead of rom-coms.

ASA EMORY (THE COLLECTOR)

In this universe, you are scared of bugs. (If you are not actually scared of bugs in the real world, just humor me with this xoxo)

Asa was your knight in shining armor... and frankly, he had to be. You were a simple person with a crazy phobia of anything with more than four legs. Asa being a bug collector, and your beloved boyfriend, came with its fair share of interest conflicts.

Regardless, Asa did make a valuable attempt to keep his profession and hobby away from your eyes. This usually came in quartering off his home laboratory and collection room so you would know with a simple sign to not go near it. Though, you considered yourself level-headed enough to stay within 50 feet of the door leading to his private lab.

Sometimes, however, the occasional creepy crawly would manage to sneak its way out from under the door and into the main home.

It was a centipede today.

Six legs was enough to send shivers down your spine. Eight legs made your heart rate increase. But 30? That sent you into a panic. And they had the potential to grow more.

You were sitting at the kitchen table fiddling away with a craft to keep yourself busy on a cold, rainy day. Your eyes were hyper-focused, tunnel vision keeping you locked on the project in front of you. Movement caught your periphery and you glanced over to your right.

A scream you didn't even think was possible erupted from your throat at the sight of a yellow house centipede skittering over the edge of the table and closer to your working hands. You shot out of your seat, expelling the craft 50 feet in front of you, in any attempt to get as far away from the household pest as you could. The little bug clearly didn't care about your fear. How could it? It just continued on it's merry little way across your wooden kitchen table.

Tears flooded your eyes as you were frozen in fear. You didn't notice the liquid substance that was dripping out of your nose and onto your lips, down your chin, and dripping small droplets onto the collar of your shirt.

Asa's frantic footsteps echoed from his lab coming towards the kitchen where he heard your scream. He threw himself into the space, mask off, eyes wide and alarmed at the noise he heard you make.

"What in the world is wrong?!" he yelled, not angry at you, more terrified than anything. He didn't plan for his own house to be broken into. He thought you were being attacked by someone.

"It's... it's..." was all you could say. Opening your mouth allowed some of the blood from your nosebleed to reach your tongue, and you suddenly realized your situation. Your left hand shot up to grab the bridge of your nose in an attempt to quell the bleeding. Your other hand fearfully pointed at the centipede that had almost finished its grand marathon across the kitchen table.

Asa, your knight in shining armor, simply sighed and smashed the thing with his fist. It took a good amount of force to break through the flat exoskeleton of the centipede, but Asa was strong. The force of his punch made a loud thud echo through the kitchen, and when he lifted his fist, the centipede was squashed thoroughly, never to move again.

A tiny, tiny part of you felt bad for the little guy, but while your nose was gushing blood, you couldn't care less.

Asa looked at you curiously after killing the object of your terror. "Does your nose bleed all the time when you cry?"

You pulled your hand away, observing some of the blood droplets that had collected in your palm. It would take a bit to scrub away the dried blood on your face, but you really didn't care at that moment. You simply took a deep breath and responded to your boyfriend, "Only sometimes. I think I got so scared by that bug that my nose just exploded."

Asa simply sighed, walking around the table towards you and taking your arm, guiding you to the kitchen sink to help you clean up. While your differing preferences about insects would never change, he would always do his best to keep you away from the pests... and to help you clean blood off of your face.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was painting you.

It was his first slow day in what seemed like forever. Able to take in the warm sunshine on a day with comfortable warmth in the desolate town of Ambrose, taking in the smell of blooming spring flowers coming from the woods surrounding the Sinclair property, and getting to paint you, his muse, basking in the light from the sky above.

It really was something straight out of a fairy tale. You were clearly thinking it to.

You were posed on a metal bench in an outfit carefully selected by Vincent to highlight his favorite parts of your body. And you loved it to, never feeling more comfortable in a hand-selected outfit before. You were staring at him while he worked. He was so invested in his canvas that he didn't seem to realize the way your eyes were locked onto his.

The way his hair, newly washed and combed, now drying in the warmth, framed his face with a softness that made him look 10 years younger made your heart flutter. His one eye seen under his mask gazed at his canvas with the determination only a dedicated artist could muster. Vincent was wildly handsome, and you thanked whatever higher power existed every day that you were lucky enough to be able to spend your life with him. Maybe you got a little choked up thinking about it.

Well... maybe "a little" was an understatement.

Thinking about how lucky you felt getting to be with a man like Vincent, who took such good care of you day and night, made you cry.

And that made your nose itch, which lead to a steady trickle of blood to flow out of your right nostril, pooling over your cupid's bow and falling down your quivering lips. You hadn't even noticed.

Vincent finally looked up from his canvas to analyze your image once more, jumping slightly when he took in the sight of blood falling down your face.

He quickly placed his brush on the easel in front of him and darted over to you. Your eyes were foggy with the sentimental tears, and you started to wipe your eyes with a faint whimper before realizing what got Vincent so upset.

"Oh, shoot," you muttered. "Vincent, can I have one of your towels?"

Your man didn't hesitate in giving you the paint towel he had draped over his shoulder for ease of access. You wiped the blood away, Vincent waiting patiently for you to recuperate. He wasn't concerned about getting blood over the outfit he had gifted you. Rather, his primary concern was always about your own health and wellbeing. Seeing you with blood dripping down your chin was jarring for him, to say the least.

You chuckled, awkwardly holding the towel in one hand while you held your nose shut with the other. Your voice was nasally as you said, "I'm sorry, Vincent, sometimes I get nosebleeds when I cry."

Vincent kneeled before you, leaning forward and taking your cheeks in his hands, turning your head left and right to make sure you were truly okay, gazing past your hand that pinched your nose closed. He grumbled something under his mask, something that you couldn't quite understand, but that you knew was concerned, caring, and relieved that you were okay, and that this was just some freak thing.

His painting could wait for his true piece of art to recover.

STU MACHER

With Stu, it wasn't anything romantic or him saving you from your biggest fears. No, never.

With Stu, he scared the living daylights out of you by scaling the side of your house with a wooden ladder and banging his fist on the glass of your bedroom window. You were sitting at your bedroom desk neck-deep in a project, back facing the window. So when your boyfriend appeared in the dead of night, face pressed up against the glass with his tongue sticking out, making a deafening noise, you damn near almost pissed yourself.

But instead of pissing yourself, your nose started bleeding.

"Stu, you prick!" you yelled as you opened the window for him, trying to manage the nosebleed that quickly poured down the lower half of your face. He was laughing as he climbed in, but stopped quickly once he realized the predicament he caused.

"Aw, damn, babe. I'm sorry. Does this happen a lot?" He scanned your bedroom for a box of tissues or anything to help you collected the blood. Thankfully, you had a small roll of paper towels on your desk. He handed them to you when you plopped yourself on the bed, him sitting down right next to you.

You thanked him in a quiet mumble as you took a sheet of paper towel, wiping away the blood on your lips, chin, and hand, and pinching your nose shut to clot the blood. "Ugh, not really," you finally said, answering his initial question. "I haven't had a nosebleed in a while. I think you scaring me just made it pop!" After cleaning yourself up, you finally allowed yourself to laugh, lightly punching Stu in the arm which earned a playful chuckle from him. "You know I get scared easily! Don't do that shit!"

"I can't help it! You look so cute when you're scared!" You stuck your tongue out at his response, which made him grin from ear to ear.

You pulled the tissue away from your face, looking at the blood that had seeped into the cheap fibers. "Would knowing that me being scared gives me bloody noses make you stop?"

Stu mockingly brought his fingers to his chin in a thinking gesture, comically humming in thought, brushing the beard that he couldn't even dream of having. "Maybe. But maybe I think you look cute all bloody like that, too." He pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of your nose, careful to not put pressure on you and make you bleed again.

"You're so gross," you responded. You didn't really mean that, and he knew it. And in his head, he promised he'd stop. Or at least give you a ring the next time he planned on scaling your house at 11PM.

#slasher x reader #slashers x reader #jason voorhees x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #asa emory the collector #vincent sinclair x reader #stu macher x reader #slasher headcanons #slasher x you #anon request

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 7 months

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May I please request some Yandere Peter Parker x reader where she's the youngest maximoff? She also had the same powers as Wanda. After she got assaulted by Peter she was able to escape, she later found out she was pregnant and was able to raise the kid far away from Peter. Her son knew what happened because he would spot some scars on his mother’s skin and he could even see her flinching. He could never forgive what his bastard father did to his mother.

One day, her son of her snuck out to have a party with his friends. He didn’t know the place was held where Spiderman is and (y/n) was able to track her son down.

But they didn’t expect to see a familiar face who just landed in front of them. It was Peter Parker who was very happy to see them both. (Y/n) is very frightened to see him and her son goes forward ready to protect her at all costs. Talk about a horrifying family reunion.

Family Matters

Pairing: Dark Peter Parker x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Implied forced pregnancy and toxic relationship; Attempted kidnapping.

AN: So, I made this a bit longer than what i wanted plus it has a open-ending, so it's up to your imagination how you want it to end cause i really have no idea how to complete this. Hope you enjoy this :)

“No.” Your tone is assertive, leaving no room for discussion.

“Why not? It’s an Avenger’s party, mom! Only superheroes there, it’s not even dangerous or anything.” Jason nags, looking up from his phone and suddenly you’re struck by his face. He looks so much like Peter that it hurts, but then you have to remind yourself that he’s not Peter.

He’s Jason, your son, the light that shines the darkness within you.

The only good thing in your life.

It’s been long since you’ve moved on from Peter, moving away from New York to Boston while erasing all traces of you. You changed your name, your bank account, doing all you could to create a new identity. You even went as far as cutting contact with everyone from your old life, including your older sister Wanda.

You didn’t even use your powers anymore, feeling like they had become somewhat blocked. Now you live your life as an ordinary single-mom but you have your own share of secrets.

Jason knows how he was conceived and how bad things were with Peter, but you never told him that his father is Spiderman. And that’s exactly why you don't want him to go to that party.

“Jason, you can’t go and that’s final.” you declare, returning your attention back to the uncut vegetables for the dinner, completely ignoring Jason’s whines and begging.

You can’t let Peter find out about Jason.

No no no.

This can’t be happening.

Jason’s room is empty, without any sign of him. The window is partially open, a cold breeze entering the room, causing your bones to chill both in cold and fear.

You already know where he must’ve gone. That Avenger’s party.

You search his desk for some clue or indication of where the party is being held. A small post-it has the address and you rush there, panicking over Jason finding Peter or the other way around.

The overwhelming feeling that your life is about to get wrecked doesn’t stop all the way in the cab and you can’t stop overthinking about all the possible scenarios of how the outcome of this horrible night.

You reach the luxurious building ready to beg your way in, but the security guards just allow you to enter, without any questions. It only adds more concern to your mind, has Peter found you already?

The whole room is filled with loud music, people dancing all over the place and you spot a very drunk Tony dancing on top of a table while Steve tries to get him down.

A small pang of nostalgia hits you as you look at them for a moment, remembering the days where you used to be a part of the team, helping them save the world.

You shake your head, trying to focus back on finding Jason. He’s your priority now, you can’t let Peter find him or you. Your eyes carefully scrutinize through the crowd, but there are no signs of Jason nor any of his friends.

You scratch your arm with anxiety, feeling too exposed. Where is he?

Turning around, you meet Peter, who’s right in front of you. Suddenly your whole body freezes as you face Peter, both of you standing in surprise.

For a moment, everything slows down. Peter seems older but still has the boyish features he’s always had. Practically everything about him is the same.

Peter also stares you down, a disbelief look in his face. He opens his mouth but you’re fast to turn around, starting to head towards the exit. You don’t get much far though, as Peter swiftly grabs your arm, pulling you with ease towards one of the corridors. Panic bubbles inside of you, your legs shaking as your body is forced by Peter to keep moving.

Your mind is frozen, your whole body seems to go numb. The only thing that keeps you in place is Peter’s hold in your wrist. You absently notice as he pulls you into a fairly dark room.

Peter doesn’t waste time hugging you, his arms possessively wrapped around your frame. He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your perfume as you go limp in his arms.

“Fuck, it’s been too long. I’ve missed you so much, you know that?” his voice is low, filled with longing and desire. His arms tighten around you, making you flinch as realizations slowly starts to hit you.

“I looked around, I searched for you so much. I never stopped looking out for you even after all these years. Even Wanda didn’t know where you were, all she told me was that you had a son. Our son.” he says, pulling away from the hug. His eyes are practically glinting with happiness while yours are filled with horror.

Something inside you snaps as he mentions your son. Your son. Not his, but yours.

Suddenly you push Peter hard, causing him to step back.

"Leave me alone. Leave us alone. We don't want anything to do with you." you scream, seeing a brief look of fury fill his face before turning your back on him.

You move towards the door but as soon as your hand touches the handle, two arms attach themselves to your body, pulling you away from the door.

"You're not going anywhere, don't think you're going to run away from me again." he roars. You struggle in his embrace but he doesn't weaken his iron embrace, if anything he gains more strength, starting to pull you further away from the door.

It makes you panic even more, air starting to get scarce to breathe but you still manage to scream, hoping someone would help you.

The door kicks open and a young man appears on the door, without breath.

“Please, help me!” you yell. Just as you look at him, you realize it’s Jason. Your son looks shocked to see you there, but he doesn’t hesitate to jump in to your aid. Peter’s hold on you falters for a brief moment, but he doesn’t relent as he and Jason wrestle to get you.

“Hey, get off my mom!” Jason yells, his hand coming to twist Peter’s wrist, successfully forcing him to release you.

You take the chance to get away from Peter, rushing to your son’s side. Peter and Jason stand in front of each other, a practically exact copy of each other with only a few differences. Hard not to realize that they are father and son.

You hide behind Jason, taking a small scared peek towards Peter only to regret it. He looks furious, probably because the warm and happy family reunion he expected didn’t happen. Jason’s body irradiates hatred, acknowledging his father for the first time in his life.

“You can't keep her away from me, son.” Peter slowly declares, his fist clenching hard.

“You’re not getting anywhere near her, know that, dad.” Jason scoffs, ignoring the way Peter’s eyes flash with utter anger.

Neither of them move, standing like cold statues. None of them will give up on you, you’re sure of that.

One hell of a family reunion.

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere avengers #dark marvel #yandere marvel #yandere peter parker #dark peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter parker #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere!peter parker #dark!peter parker x reader

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kissland69 · 8 months

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“meanest girl in school”

robin buckley x f!reader

*if there’s any mistakes, typos or errors please ignore them. mean reader (not towards robin), mild language*

“Y/N L/N?! YOU LIKE Y/N L/N?” yelled a surprised steve while pausing the movie him and robin decided to watch “can you be any louder idiot?” said robin with an irritated tone, throwing one of his couch pillows at him “i’m just surprised you decided to have a crush on the girl who would tear you apart even with a look, she’s the meanest girl in school” said steve, arms folded against his chest “oh come on, she isn’t that mean” robin said defensively “not that mean?? are you going crazy robin?” steve said dramatically “shut up, you never even spoke to her” robin said, rolling her eyes to the male “YEAH CAUSE I’M SCARED OF HER!” steve yelled with wide eyes “you’re scared of everything, remember the time you thought you ran out of hairspray and started panicking and freaking out?” robin said causing the male to roll his eyes “that was one time okay, anyways, back to you liking y/n l/n…do you not remember what she did last week to jason carver?” steve said with both arms crossed against his chest. last week friday y/n l/n sat at a vacant lunch table while wearing her headphones like she normally did, the song blasting out of her headphones while she moved her fingers to the beat of the song, jason carver thought it was such a great idea to disturb y/n’s peace by throwing a rough paper ball at her “HEY L/N! being all by yourself makes you look like a freak, maybe you should stop being a bitch to everyone and actually care about your reputation” said jason, loud laughs coming from all directions of the table he was sitting at, y/n calmly placed her headphone’s around her neck and walked up to jason who had a smug smirk on his lips “what do you want sweetheart? tired of being a fuckin-“ jason said but got cut off by a lunch tray forcefully hitting his mouth “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” yelled jason through his palm, blood seeping through the crack of his fingers “maybe you shouldn’t bother people who minds their business, you think you can talk badly to people because you’re a lowlife jock” y/n said, tossing the beige tray on the lunch table and walking out of the cafeteria with an irritated expression. “okay to be fair he started with her, he should’ve left her alone when she was just peacefully listening to music” robin defended “oh that’s not the only shit she’s done, one time y/n made a boy cry because he said red looked better on her than pink and not to mention that one time she threw a boy into a trash can because he stepped on her foot AND the time she threw a football so hard at micheal miller that left him with a bruised up eye because he didn’t say excuse me” steve said with a laugh, robin just rolled her eyes while grabbing a hand full of popcorn “i’m just saying, if she verbally insults you because you looked at her wrong i’m not giving you a shoulder to cry on” steve said with a shrug “whatever harrington, play the damn movie already” robin said with rolling eyes, the sound of the horror movie playing again on steve’s living room tv.

it was tuesday afternoon, the teens of hawkins high got dismissed for the day, rushing through the doors and letting the cold november air hit their faces. robin threw her beat up bookbag over her shoulders and made her way to her bike with a tired sigh “i really need to save up some money for a car, riding this bike is making my muscles hurt” robin said to herself while pedaling out of hawkins parking lot and to her house. while robin biked home she spotted y/n walking into her house “she is so pretty” robin said softly, y/n turned around and smiled at the freckled teen which caught robin by surprised “OH SHIT!” robin yelled with her bike bumping into a large crack into the pavement, robin landed on the sidewalk roughly “ow..well this shit is embarrassing…” robin said to herself, knees, palms and elbows covered in fresh cuts “hey! are you okay!?” yelled a worried y/n while running up to the short haired girl “u-uh yeah, i think..” robin said shyly “you’re bleeding, i can clean your cuts up if you want”’y/n said, placing her right hand on robin’s right shoulder with a soft squeeze ”i don’t want to bother you, you just came from school and you must be tired” robin said with red cheeks “no it’s fine, those cuts need to get cleaned and i have a first-aid kit at home, come on.” y/n said, standing up and handing robin a hand with a smile “so she isn’t mean like everyone says” robin thought to herself while grabbing her bike with one hand and holding y/n’s hand in the other. robin placed her bike outside of y/n’s house and walked into the girl’s home “it’s so warm in here” robin said with a comforting sigh “i hope it isn’t too hot, it just gets super cold if the heat is off for too long” said y/n with a smile “no no it’s fine, it feels good” robin said, awkwardly standing at the entrance of y/n’s house “that’s good to hear, well let’s to the bathroom to clean those cuts” y/n said while walking to her bathroom with robin following behind “you know you didn’t have to do this, thank you” robin said, sitting her lanky figure onto the sink counter “it’s nothing, can’t leave you all cut up” y/n said while grabbing a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol soaked into it “you know..i can’t believe i’m getting patched up by y/n l/n herself” robin said with a airy laugh “well i can’t believe i’m patching up robin buckley herself, it’s an accomplished” y/n said with a grin “i wasn’t expected you to be so clusmy buckley, it’s cute” y/n said while cleaning up the dried blood off of robin’s elbow “w-well i try not to be but i got distracted by something so pretty and ended up all cut up and bloody” robin said with a smile while playing with the belt loop of her washed out blue jeans “something pretty huh? wasn’t i the last thing you seen before falling?” asked y/n with a smirk “y-yeah..you’re really pretty to me and falling in front of you has to be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me” robin said while avoiding eye contact, y/n inched closer to the teen’s face with a smile “well if it makes you feel any better i think you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen and you clumsily falling off your bike was the cutest sight” y/n said, holding robin’s chin softly “would it be ill-mannered if i kissed you?” robin suddenly asked, eyes glued on y/n’s lips “not at all buckley” y/n said with a smirk, robin immediately smashed her lips onto y/n’s, hands firmly rested on y/n’s hips “who knew embarrassingly falling off my bike would have me kissing you?” said robin, voice laced with admiration and eyes clouded with lust “who knew” y/n said with a smile, lips slightly swollen from the rushed kiss “my lips are kinda lonely right now” robin said playfully, voice raspy and scratchy “clusmy and corny, what a combination” y/n said with a laugh “well is my charm working?” asked robin with a goofy grin “absolutely” y/n replied, leaning into the short haired girl, placing a softer and calmer kiss onto robin’s pink lips.

“you really kissed y/n without having a heart attack? you’re improving buckley, i’m proud” steve said with a grin “yeah yeah harrington, just tell me which outfit i should wear and hurry because i’ll be late for my date” robin said with a irritated tone “i’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter what you’ll wear, it’d be on y/n’s floor by the end of the date” steve said with a shrug “shut up dingus! pick a damn outfit!” yelled a flustered robin “okay okay! no need to get all defensive” steve said with a laugh “you’re lucky my main priority is y/n and not punching you idiot” robin said with rolling eyes “wow buckley, i’m hurt” steve said dramatically, robin just rolled her blue eyes and headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready for her date “i’m not dealing with your stupidity right now” robin said from the bathroom with a smile “yeah but if it was y/n-“ steve said but got cut by a loud “SHUT UP IDIOT!” from the freckled teen causing steve to let out an amusing laugh.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #steve harrington x reader platonic #stranger things #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fluff #stranger things s3 #robin buckley imagine

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thisishellfire · 8 months

Text

Special Treats | Eddie Munson x F!Reader x Steve Harrington

Synopsis: A small pit stop at Eddie's trailer was suppose to be an okay moment - Steve and yourself lounging around as you wait for Eddie to grab his guitar and amp. But Steve grows curious with the smell of fresh baked brownies on the counter, offering you one. If only you two knew...

Warnings: Drug Use, Edibles in the Form of Brownies, Being High, Giggles, Eddie Being Hella Concerned, Reader Gets Horny When High, A Lot of Touches to Steve and Eddie, Slightly Sexual, Bi!Eddie,

Rating: M - NO MINORS

Author's Note: Based on true events.

Word Count: 4.5k

-----

Who was the one who thought of the idea? Who was the wone who decided putting drugs in food, was smart? Certainly at the time the person thought they were a genius - one some ways, yes. Easier to consume, easier to dose yourself without going overboard. In a way it's a good idea, but only if you're careful. Do you think the person who did this, understood the effects of accidental ingestion? Definitely not, but that's what the human race is for - right? Performing all of these experiments to see what works, and what doesn't, in order to make a bang for their buck. Though, if there is one thing someone could do to lessen the burden, it would be to label them. You bake pot into cookies, brownies, what have you - then there should be a specialized flag, or even a tub with DO NOT EAT put across it. In fact, that would have solved this entire problem, Eddie wouldn't be panicking as much as now, but you - well you're making it worth his eyes.

Eddie Munson was known around Hawkins as a freak, someone who practiced satanism because he played Dungeons & Dragons - a simple fantasy game. No one got the gist of how it was like every other board game; Strategy, action, even some loot thrown in there. People saw the dragons, the swords, the creatures of the night. All judgement was based off of what the papers, news and magazines were saying - to promote death, sacrifice and sodomy. You hated to see him get tormented for it, but loved when he bit back. Jason Carver was his biggest instigator, but Eddie was always fifteen steps ahead. Any time he would be called out during lunch, Eddie always swung back with the Hellfire Club, always showing the horns and tongue out like to logo. It didn't bother him to be called freak, or weirdo, because he knew he was - yet that's what made him so unique. It's what made you stay around him, to befriend him, to learn the ways of Eddie Munson. A simple conversation about games, a pitch for the club - then boom, you were in. Five years of watching Eddie be his unapologetic self, caused you to fall deep. Though, he would never know. Now, was not the right time.

Life had been stressful lately - being kicked into high gear with three randomized deaths strewn about Hawkins. The lingering essence of evil, one of which people are pointing back at Eddie Munson - your best friend. It killed you to see how he was getting the shit end of the stick, how people saw him for a monster and not a human. You knew, since Chrissy's death that Eddie could never do that. Sure, he was strong but, not strong enough to do that. Out of everyone that could have possibly gave him shelter, you were his first call. He knew about Reefer Rick's place, but he also knew that you would be there to housesit while he was in prison. It was almost like a match made in heaven; Eddie would get to spend more time with you, and maybe get to act on his feelings finally. But at the same time, he was nervous you wouldn't want to be around him, to help him, or even to chat. It's been a few days since he last saw anyone, booking it away from the scene as fast as humanly possible - all he wanted in this moment, was you.

Having its perfect way of bringing the two of you back together, the universe decided to throw Eddie a bone. As he hid out in the boathouse, watching out the little window at every sound that came to be, he noticed the cream colored car starting to roll down the long driveway. The crunch of gravel making his heart pound, the broken beer bottle in hand to brace himself. Although as the car got closer, the more he started to relax. The sweet melodic sounds of Blondie coming through the stereo made him quirk a smile, a blush radiating across the apples of his cheeks. It was you, you had come for him. Placing the bottle down onto the tool cabinet, Eddie moved swiftly over to the door of the boathouse, taking a deep breath before he opened the door. "Steve shut up, Eddie is just scared - he didn't do anything," Eddie heard your voice echo, pointed and stern towards your other friend. "Steve?" Eddie questioned, feeling his palms growing clammy over the thought of Harrington being here. It was no secret to you, he worshipped Steve worse than Rob Halford.

Whilst the banter between you and Steve was going strong, Eddie took the opportunity to move to the boathouse door, slowly pulling it back. The creak of the wood made your head swivel, seeing how Eddie's tall, broad frame peeked out from the small sliver. In an instant your heart stopped, a smile tugging upon your lips instinctively. Pushing the bags into Steve's arms you sprinted towards the boathouse door, pushing it open wider along the way. Eddie was so happy to see you, to see you reciprocate the feelings as well - even if they were more of a friend manner. You launched yourself into Eddie's arms as you both stumbled back into the boathouse, his back hitting the wooden pillar holding up the motorized boat. "I missed you," quietly you admit, wrapping your arms around Eddie's torso as best you could, wanting to envelop him in so much love, appreciation and serenity. "I keep having this nightmare where you're gone and I just-" you began to ramble, causing your heart to plummet at the thought of losing Eddie, which only caused his grip to tighten. "I'm right here, you're not getting rid of me that easily." Eddie laughed, hoping to bring you some peace.

"Yeah, I guess I'll unpack the car!" Steve's yell echoed through the boathouse, causing both you and Eddie to snicker. Your hands came to rub up and down Eddie's sides, hoping to bring him some sense of comfort, some sense of serenity and peace after all that has happened this weekend. "We made sure to get all your favorite foods, and drinks so, you'll be set now." The softness of your smile caused Eddie's heart to erupt with passion, wishing so much he could kiss you - hold you forever in this moment. Eddie wanted to make you feel special, help you feel good after everything you've done for him - he needed you, wanted you, and yet was too shy to say it. "Thank you, you guys do too much for me," Eddie shrugged, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek sweetly. As his thumb ran across your bottom lip, you let your head sink right into his grip, humming softly at the warm contact. Both of your hands rested on his hips, rubbing at the studs on his belt, mentally trying to coax him just a bit closer. Just a little bit more and, his lips would be flush to yours. The mix of tobacco, beer, and spaghetti-o's flushing your senses, grounding you to this moment; Only the two of you.

"Alright, come on love birds before someone sees us," Steve groaned as he rolled his eyes, grabbing the last of the bags to bring inside. A heat rose across your cheeks at Harrington's words - Eddie was adorning a similar feat. Nodding to Eddie you were the first to slip out of the boathouse, moving rather quickly to put some space between the two of you. Steve noticed how erratic you were acting with your movements; Arms swinging a bit wider than usual, eyes dilated and steady puffs of your breath releasing from your mouth - causing you to waver. Confusion wracked the brain of Steve, wondering why all of a sudden something switched - you were more erratic than normal. Of course he brushed it off as quick as Eddie emerged, looking around the yard to see if anyone was out. "You're fine Munson, no one else is here." Steve could be nice when he wanted, he did have quite the redemption arc back in '83; No longer the douchebag, but instead the mom of the group. All Eddie could do was nod at the insinuation in Steve's voice, swallowing down the nervousness in his throat before he started to make his move.

Thankfully walking a bit quicker than them let you into the house first, a breath of relief coming out as you stood in the kitchen alone. The simple action of Eddie touching you made your body vibrate, your panties soaked beyond belief. A stutter came from your hips as you collected yourself, imagining what it would feel like if Eddie were to just touch you - rake his long, skilled fingers across your mound like a man starved, teasing you further than you could ever anticipate. Eddie was amazing on the guitar, considering he had been playing since he was small. His calloused, talented fingers could pull the sweetest sounds from you, like his axe after all. A whimper of a sigh released from your lips at the thought, standing over the kitchen sink you dip your head between your shoulders, gripping the basin like it was steel. Hands began to shake from the intensity. Never has a man made you feel this feral, you needed the edge taken off. Maybe its the fact that you may lose Eddie, but in actuality - it's because he was showing the same feelings as you.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw a red Tupperware container, the ridges of the top making you smile. It was one of the things you had pulled from Eddie's trailer, along with clothes and his guitar. Humming as you leaned across the counter to grab the container, you could feel the heft of the plastic. Curiosity got the best of you when you started to pull the cover back, revealing a hefty aroma of chocolate, with a kick of cinnamon. It was almost instant how your mouth watered, ready to sink your tastebuds into the chocolatey goodness of the brownies. Eddie's uncle Wayne always made the best kind, and you were ready to curb that craving. Grabbing the top square out, you took a decent bite of the confection, feeling how the soft, spongey consistency melted against your taste buds. A sigh of pure bliss slipped passed your lips as you swallowed your first bite, popping the rest of it into your mouth. Between the richness of the chocolate, the kick of cinnamon, and the crunch of walnuts it made you happy, bringing you to your happy place.

Before closing the container up, you nabbed a second one, holding half in your mouth as you pressed the cover down. Right as you started to chew the second brownie, the front door swung open to reveal both Steve and Eddie; Steve was carrying in the paper bag of chips - whilst Eddie was holding two twelve packs of beer. His head was kept down, not daring to make eye contact with anyone as he pushed through the kitchen, stopping at the fridge. As you popped the last of your treat into your mouth, Steve cocked his brow at you, almost as if to silently ask where you got it. Nodding to the red container next to you, Steve wasted no time diving in - grabbing three out instantly and closing the container back up. Eddie was finding a spot for his beer in the fridge as you worked to unpack some of the paper bags. Chips, popcorn, granola bars and cookies were placed int he cabinets next to the sink. While the plastic bag at your feet had some frozen dinners, you began to unpack them onto the counter - watching out the corner of your eye at Eddie, wondering why he was still screwing around with the fridge. "You should tell him you like him," Steve spoke low while finishing his first brownie.

Your eyes instantly shot wide open as you looked at Steve, mimicking the I will kill you face he had given you many times before. Shrugging his shoulders as if to act offended, that's when you heard Eddie clear his throat. You spun your body slightly to see Eddie's doe eyes looking at you, his cheeks red under the curtains of his hair. He was shy, closed off from you in this moment as he braced against the fridge, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a thick, gnawing tension that slipped through the cracks of the home. Each time you would glance at Eddie the glare was equally as intense, only making for a more awkward moment. Steve's incessant chewing of his third and final brownie broke through the silence, making you feel a bit woozy. What? You tried to shake your head to fight off the wave cascading over your body, but instead only causing it to intensify. Looking up into Eddie's eyes, you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat - eyeing his plush, red lips. The dilation in your eyes caused for Eddie's face to be all you could see.

Worry grew instant on his body as he moved closer to you, trying to look deep within your eyes. He couldn't see any red of your sclera, nor could he smell anything on you. Right as he was about to move away, he caught the glimpse of Tupperware right next to Steve, currently licking his fingers clean of the chocolate. "Where did you get that?" Eddie asked Steve cautiously, pointing to the container to his left. Steve glanced over his shoulder quickly to see what Eddie was talking about, shrugging as he turned back to face you. "She grabbed it from the trailer," Steve began, swallowing down harshly as he grabbed the counter behind him. Eddie's eyes went wide as he heard Steve speak, knowing what exactly you both ate. "Sweetheart, how many of those did you eat?" Eddie asked you softly, holding the container in his hand so no one else could touch it. Focusing your unfixed gaze upon Eddie, you let a lazy smile fall upon your lips, a string of giggles leaving your mouth. "Two, Steve had three." Your response made Eddie's stomach drop - his mind wavering over what you had ingested, never knowing if you were use to dosing yourself so much.

"Those, were my special brownies. That entire batch was two ounces of pot," Eddie began, scrubbing his hands down his face at the realization of how much weed both you and Steve had consumed. "I had Wayne add cinnamon to throw off the dope smell, and the taste." Silently Eddie was cursing himself for leaving them out in the open; It was his secret stash for when he was in class, he couldn't get through algebra without being stoned. It explained why it kicked in so quick, plus having not eaten anything all day your stomach managed to metabolize the sweet treat quicker than anticipated. Shifting on your legs uncomfortably, you managed to move away from the countertop with a squeak, snorting to yourself as you moved freely through the kitchen. "I'm going to go lie down for a bit," you let out, swaying from side to side as you passed into the living room. Eddie was the first to be by your side, holding your waist and arm to guide you, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. Each step you took felt heavier than the last, like cinderblocks were weighing you down. You felt as if you were swimming through a vat of Jell-O, the high was intense.

As you made it to the grand staircase of Reefer Rick's house, you took each step one at a time, in order to help keep yourself leveled. Eddie didn't stop holding you as you started to move, scared that you would hurt yourself if he let go. Of course you had other ideas in mind. The second Eddie lessened his grip slightly, you booked it up the rest of the steps, giggling maniacally. His gasp lit up the entire room with how loud it was, chasing right on after you. A perfect game of cat and mouse was what it most reminded you of, causing the laughter to bubble over like it was nothing. Eddie on the other hand was not for this, he was not a happy camper knowing you were high out of your mind, running around a dangerous man's home - with him and Steve Harrington. Eddie was right on your ass as you ascending the steps, almost tripping on the last stair as you booked it across the banister.

Upstairs in Reefer Rick's house was four total rooms - two on each side of the stairs. Of course you took shelter at the last door on the left, being the furthest away from everyone - if they were to investigate. Sprinting across the bannister to head towards your room, Eddie was hot on your tail - his body tripping over itself to keep up with you. "God damn it!" He managed to yell, slamming his hand against the railing. You quickly jumped and spun around at the loud crack, making your mouth drop. A frustrated, sweaty and down right sexy Eddie Munson was stalking towards you, slightly out of breath as he caught up with you. It would be a mean game if you ran again so, you opted to go into your room, keeping the door open so Eddie could come in. Your first instinct was not to sit on the bed, but stand at the window. You were lucky to have chosen this room, the view of Lover's Lake was too perfect to pass up. It's when the door behind you shut that you knew, it was just you and Eddie. Finally, after so long.

"I'm going to tell you this now because my sober brain won't say it." You started, not daring to turn back. Eddie on the other hand felt his heart start to speed once more, hands growing clammy as he sat on the corner of the bed, admiring the gentle touch of yourself you put with the purple sheets. "I want you, Eddie." The words came tumbling out like livewire's, unable to stop yourself from revealing all. When you would get high with Eddie before, you were known to have your filter blur. Eddie never anticipated in this way though - wondering from the amount of THC you did consume, if it made you delirious. "You want me?" His tone was one of disbelief. Eddie never thought he could be the center of someone's affection, nor did he think he was one of sex appeal. But little did he know, in your eyes, he was a walking fucking god. Rough around the edges, yet a complete softie when it was the two of you. Eddie Munson made it very easy to fall in love with him. "Mhm, in so many ways." The inflection in your voice gave so much away, causing Eddie's hands to tremble against his thighs.

Standing from his position on the bed, he made his way to the little book nook across from your bed, examining all of the literary classics Rick had placed here a while ago. "H-How do you want me?" Eddie stuttered, perching one hand on his hip as the other was placed against the wall. Dark eyes watching you from across the room. Turning against the bay window, you bit on your lower lip, mewling as you took in his stature. The small bench built into the bottom of the window was the perfect place for you, easy to spread your legs, the skirt of your dress flowing softly around your body like it was water. Eddie's eyes tried so hard to look at your face, to stare into your eyes, and not make contact with your clothed cunt. "In my mouth, between my legs." The bluntness of your words made Eddie's cock strain against his tight jeans, the outline of his bulge causing your eyes to dilate further, the darkness of your pupils taking over the color of your irises. Eddie shifted on his feet to try and relieve some of the pressure; It didn't work out for him. Your words were not done though, no, you were only just getting started.

"But really, I want to kiss you. Been thinking about that since I first saw you spew your shit at Jason." It was true, the first time you had ever saw Eddie Munson was when he was verbally arguing with Jason a few years back - making the little shit stain almost cry with how evil he was. In that moment, you realized how attracted to Eddie you were. Someone who could be evil to those who deserve it, and loving to those who made his life better. You, were his golden ticket. It was always you, he found himself falling for. Yet, never had the courage to ask you out. He knew you deserved better, deserved a life not near a delinquent. But in actuality, Eddie was the best thing to ever happen to you. Rising up from your seated position at the window, you slowly started to make your way towards Eddie, letting the silence draw out for a moment longer. "Do you understand how fucking hot you are, Eddie?" The question was dripping with lust, oozing with desire, and bursting at the seams with affection. Eddie couldn't hold it back any longer, his moan had a mind of its own as it slipped passed his parted lips.

"Shit; Sweetheart you cannot say shit like that when you're high," Eddie retorted, gripping his hip harshly as he pushed back against the bookshelf. Eddie wanted to kiss you, deeply kiss you until you couldn't breathe - until you couldn't stand on your own. He wanted to swallow you whole and envelop you in all the feelings he currently was going through. Wanted you to feel how badly you were affecting him. How someone as perfect as you fell for him was a mystery, but he promised himself - he would never give you up. "Why not?" An adorable pout came across your lips, causing Eddie to stir. You were confused as to why he was saying no, but his body was clearly saying something else. Slowly starting to walk over to Eddie, you let your hips sway with the motions of the breeze, keeping a respectful distance between you and Eddie, just in case the situation was read wrong. "You're going to regret it when you're sober." Eddie was quick to shoot that back at you, causing your heart to sting.

The defense started to come out before your brain could properly compute the situation, your mouth being the fire to light it up. "No I won't, because this has been five years in the making of telling you, Edward." It was your snark, mixed with the absolution that caused Eddie's eyes to roll back, whimpering out a bit louder than last as he realized you weren't just saying it. There was still a gleam of you in your eyes, not the high he let you embark on. "Fuck, really?" That was Eddie's only response, no clue as to why he was giving in towards the temptation; You were making him run hot. Maybe it's the fact that Eddie didn't think he deserved sweet, soft, pretty things like yourself. He saw himself as rotten, someone who no one could be proud of, living how he wanted to instead of what most wanted for him. You saw Eddie for himself, not the freak Hawkins made him out to be. He had been in love with you for years, never did he think you would feel the same, give him the same energy - want the same need from him. "Yes. I wasn't just giving you bedroom eyes for the hell of it, Munson. I want you, so bad."

The lilt in your voice upon the last two words snapped Eddie, breaking the tether of sanity he was riding. Surging forth Eddie rushed quickly to your front, holding your cheeks in both hands. His lips met yours with haste - pressed against your pillowy flesh to try and keep himself here, in the moment. Lips started to work in tandem, your bottom lip slotted between his as he suckled, groaning deep within your mouth as you licked across his lips. Your ass had been pressed against the wooden walls of the room, one leg riding up on Eddie's hip as he grinded against you. The thickness of his erection straining, and the dampness from your panties, caused the glide to be sickly sweet - perfect for what you both needed. Eddie was the first to break the kiss, not that he wanted but, the realization you two weren't necessarily alone. "Think Steve will mind?" Eddie chuckled, looking at how swollen he made your lips. Snorting at his comment, you began to lace your fingers in the nape of his neck, feeling his soft strands of hair weave through your fingers. "Please, that goon is probably just going to watch cartoons and laugh. We got time."

The tug you placed to Eddie's hair had him sighing aloud, eyes turned to obsidian. A snarl released across his mouth as he captured your lips once more for a damning kiss, using his free hand to rub up along the side of your thigh, hitching his calloused fingertips into the waistband of your panties. "Maybe he can join us, if you're okay with it." It was more of a silent whisper than anything, but you had caught it just in time. Eddie's cheeks were bright red at the insinuation - causing you to bite your lower lip. It was sexy to you, that Eddie wanted Steve to come too; After all Eddie wasn't afraid of his bisexuality. He flaunted his flirting with Harrington like it was second nature. "Aw, my little Eddie does have a crush on Harrington after all." You grinned evilly, making Eddie kiss you rougher this time around. Little did you know, you were in for a real wet weekend with Eddie Munson, and Steve Harrington.

-----

Everything Taglist: @slvdsjjk @ccosmic-illusion @stevesmixtape @crybabyfangirl @carrot-shavings @karebearxo @magicalchocolatecheesecake @bratcamgal @fastandfeminist @sunflowerfive @bunniesofsteel @marauderssworld @loversjoy @lovesthunder @ayrusss @barryswifey @munsontrash @mel119g @gmoney3513 @little-moonbeam-666 @practicalghost @sadbitchfangirl @wallflower0694 @bumbleboxwrites @imagine-all-the-imagines @sunflowerharrington @lindzaylove @omlwhatamidoinghere @trickersep8

Steve Harrington Taglist: @StevesSecretLove @dwightkschrutelovesbeets @st-ls @tiaamberxx

Eddie Munson Taglist: @marygut1407 @Viczvaporub @simpforbuckyb @paola-carter @sweet-creature98 @ah-finally @thexhostess @druigswh0ree @freyafriggafrey @conductinq-blog @parasadic-blog @erasercats @hoennislands @elvirabelle

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seth-kia · 2 months

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alfred absolutely takes care of the batfam when they're sick: a headcanon

him waking up in the middle of the night with the Parental Instinct that “one of my kids is sick. Must take care of sick child.”

gently poking his head into each room until he lands upon jason, feverish and shaking while wrapped in a thousand blankets. alfred drapes a cold cloth over his forehead and whispers soothing words when he comes to from fever dreams angry and dazed, deescalating, helping him sip some tea and running his hands through his hair until he falls back asleep.

damian’s coughing and coughing and coughing, curled into a ball miserably and unable to sleep, angry because he shouldn’t be sick, this is terrible, and alfred comes in with a spoonful of honey and starts the humidifier, and when damian wakes after a fitful hour of sleep clutching his chest cause he can’t breathe, alfred’s there to calm him down and keep him grounded.

when tim’s attacked by the flu and he can’t stop puking for more than a couple seconds, his insides are on fire and he’s choking on bile, alfred rubs his back and holds his hair and helps him sip warm broth. he’ll stay up day and night until tim has something in his stomach and he’s resting and on his way to healing.

dick getting a severe cold and feeling so dizzy he can’t see, stumbling his way to alfred’s room and nearly collapsing when alfred catches him and leads him to the settee, holding him upright and checking him over furiously. he makes him eat, gives him some decongestant and makes him lay down, massages his temples and forehead, and while dick mumbles incoherently out of fear of the intense vertigo that won’t leave him alone, he takes his hand and holds it in silent insistence he won't go.

duke retiring early due to an oncoming migraine and waking up half blind and unable to think through the pain, nigh hyperventilating. alfred hears his panicked breathing from the other room and enters swiftly with a furtive once over, ensuring him that he's alright, keeping a cool hand on his forehead and his voice low but soothing until the ache ebbs enough and he slips into sleep. upon waking, he finds advil, a glass of water, crackers, and a note excusing him from school.

he finds Cass curled in a ball beside her bed, eyes wide with fear and the words "hurts to move" balanced on her tongue, and he lifts her oh-so-carefully back on the blankets and offers a gentle massage, lifting his hands each time her breath hitches until she relaxes again, giving her ibuprofen and water and a heat pack for the worst of the aches.

steph calls, once, in the middle of the night, apologizing with a shaky voice that she didn't mean to, pressed the wrong number, her hands were trembling so much and she misdialed, i'm so sorry, and in seconds alfred is at her door with a thermometer settling her in bed and making her tea. he refusing her breathy apologies with a retort about how she looks like death warmed over. "think nothing of it," he says the next morning. "you can always call."

when Bruce, living in a house of children with germs and sicknesses and all sorts of illness finally comes down with a nasty head cold, Alfred is there like always, with gentle and firm hands pushing him back into his pillows and a bowl of the chicken soup recipe he made each time he was sick. he can protest all he wants, but alfred settles him in bed with an order to simply call for him when necessary. "Sleep well, Master Wayne," he whispers, closing the door softly, and leaving bruce feeling like he was eight again.

#batfam #batman #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #tw vomit #vomit mention #duke thomas #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #sickfic #headcanon #batfam headcanons #tim drake

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envysparkler · 4 months

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I'm curious about this Uno reverse batfamily adoption fic idea. What is it going to be about? All the batkids parents are alive and try to coparents Bruce and the robins?

The story starts when a newly minted Batman goes to a circus. He runs into a panicking baby Dick before the show starts, who claims that there's a bad man doing something to the ropes. Bruce rushes off to stop him, gets lightly stabbed, and decides to buy Haly's Circus so this kind of thing doesn't happen again.

The Grayson family happily adopt him. No amount of persuading will convince Dick Grayson that Bruce is not his new older brother. Alfred is happy to have more people looking out for Bruce. Bruce is defeated and resignedly accepts his new parental figures, since it appears that Haly's Circus is going to stay in Gotham.

[you can insert subplot about court of owls here or not.]

Bruce Wayne is in Crime Alley on the anniversary of his parents' death. He gets mugged, which causes a flashback and a panic attack, and a kind passerby coaches him through it while her son scowls at him the whole time. Catherine Todd invites him up for a cup of tea and Bruce meets her husband. He can see where Jason gets the scowl from. Willis gives back Bruce's wallet and keys without saying where he got them from. The car's tires, however, are a lost cause.

[honestly the dramatic tension here from Batman running into Willis as one of Two-Face's lackeys would be delicious. also feat Willis finally revealing Catherine's medical issues which of course leads to Bruce paying for treatment and Jason starting to trust him.]

This Batman has no Robin. This does not stop little Timmy's fascination with nighttime photography, which Janet encourages. Children need to spend time outside, she can brag about her baby's talent, and honestly all the traveling means she's up at odd hours when she's in Gotham anyway. But all that Bat-watching gets Janet thinking and she figures out that Bruce is Batman in a couple of months. Tim is his mother's son, after all. Janet, previously very annoyed with Brucie Wayne, now realizes the whole thing is an act, and is very amused. She can use this to troll Gotham's snooty high society and get a good laugh out of those stuffy galas. Jack is always game to go along with a good joke.

[The Drakes, frequent visitors to the circus ever since little Dick Grayson picked up baby Timmy and proclaimed that he'd do a special flip just for him, find out that the Graysons also know Bruce. They meet the Todds on another trip. If Bruce knew that there were three different sets of Gotham parents conspiring about him, he'd probably flee permanently to the Watchtower.]

Talia...well, it would be a bit awkward for Talia to adopt Bruce. But you don't have to change much to have Ra's be the kind of father that's obsessed with that One Boyfriend you brought for dinner five years ago and won't stop asking when he's coming back.

[Why, yes, Ra's does join the monthly meetings of the Bruce Wayne Protection Squad. If only to weigh in on the "who should Bruce date" debate. They're going to be his future in-law after all.]

Batman runs into David Cain and Lady Shiva on two separate missions, both of which end in injuries for Bruce, but a little girl sticks bandaids with colorful print on him so he guesses it's okay. Her parents have split custody of Cass and now apparently Bruce too, if the way they grouse at him about the proper way to take on assassins is any indication.

Batman ends up in the hospital and Crystal Brown is the nurse that's assigned to his care. The only thing that stops a delirious Batman from trying to get out of bed is Stephanie Brown's detailed stories. Some time later, Cluemaster kidnaps Batman--not to unmask his identity, but to interrogate him on his postoperative care because his wife and daughter were worrying.

Gordon's already pretty much adopted him, so nothing has to change there.

Bonus: Bruce is a fantastic babysitter. He's attentive and careful. Also, all the kids think he's super cool because he's Batman, which is very flattering. And whenever one of them starts making noises about joining him in fighting crime, he can drop them back off at their parents.

#envy answers #fic ideas #batfam #reverse uno adoption #bruce is adopted by all the parents #kidnapping #mugging #panic attacks #stabbing #unconventional adoption

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luffyrose · 4 months

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I have fallen down the ultimate spiral. Usually falling into fandoms are ones that I know well or that I will know well because I just found an interest in them. This time, this time I've fallen into the whole dc x dp. I have no idea how or why the crossover is a thing, BUT I LOVE IT.

I'm not that big a DC fan in general, mainly because I do not have the attention span to understand what is happening (ignore the fact I've watched all of One Piece-) but I have watched all of Danny Phantom at one point or another so like, halfway there kdjnshdf

N E WAY! I was reading lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood real good, go read it https://archiveofourown.org/works/40263192 BUT THEN I SAW A POST, as I casually skim through it when bored, ABOUT JASON AND DANNY MEETING PROMPT/MINI-FIC ON HERE AND I WAS SO IN LOVE WITH IT

So now, my brain as it usually does, wants to write a fic on it. this is why I have so many notes/docs, someone please remind me to organize fdksjnfj but yeah- I might write some of it, I might not- I don't know, but I will absolutely dumb random thoughts I've had about it on you all.

Okay! So I don't see much if anything about it, but I love the idea that Danny is like, a baby in ghost terms. Like no one thought about it much because it was the equivalent of the "BABY HAS A GUN" meme and because the ghosts just wanted to cause some mayhem and have fun, it took them like 2-3 years to look at the overpowered ghost and go; "That's a child-".

Keep in mind, Danny is already technically the King of the Infinite realms via defeating Pariah Dark as well, so all the ghosts are like "a child....OUR CHILD" and now panicking over the fact that this lil ghost has not had a parent(Madie and Jack DO NOT in fact count as parents to the ghosts, or Danny's core for that matter, but it's not because they're human, like, the ghosts are more concerned about the fact that his parents aren't ACTUALLY his parents.)

Either way, Danny now has to avoid Clockwork, who knows he is a baby in ghost terms but almost adult in human terms so still 100% making him king, the ancient is kind enough to alleviate most of the jobs a king has to do at least......for now-

So most of Danny's 16, going to turn 17 soon, year old life is now school, dealing with the few ghosts who still cause him trouble even if he's a baby ghost to them, he does keep in mind how they are MUCH gentler now and tend to "give up" pretty easily instead of fighting him, and 'running' from Clockwork trying to coronate him.

Clockwork knows where he is when he 'hides' but his own ghost core, ancient as it is, can't help but humor the child.

Things go wonk as soon as his parents find out about him being a ghost, surprise surprise. His dad was shoot first, ask questions later as always, but his mom was more...mentally traumatizing my child by claiming they'll fix him and telling him how they would just have to cut him open a little to see what's wrong.

Danny gets hit by one of the shots and goes tumbling into the ghost zone, another shot hitting the portal itself and breaking it as he went through. Some ghost find him and are like "THE BABY!!!!"

Personally- my brain it's Kitty and Johnny finding him because they're more like friends now then much else. Kitty being like an older sister while Johnny is the friend he probably would have dated at some point given the situation since they're both around his age in general, being younger ghosts as well.

Either way, they panic, call Clockwork, since the whole Infinite Realms knows that they're Danny's guardian. Clockwork shows up, and is like "wuh oh" and decides this child needs a parent. BUT INSTEAD OF SENDING HIM TO SOMEONE CONVENTIONAL HE'S JUST LIKE WOOPPSSYYYYY *Throws a very injured and not that conscious Danny at Lex Luthor*

Lex is, despite telling himself he's not, already this random meta-adjacent kid's dad. He's sold. Be it the obvious parental neglect/abuse like he had or the fact that he didn't know he had enough of a heart not to abandoned a hurt child who knows-

Also just as a tangent, Danny 100% talks about clones one times and the two have a long talk about the sentience of clones, because like, Lex didn't think about it in a way that Clones, albeit creations of science more so, are still very sentient beings unlike other scientific creations. And depending on the type of clone, they are much much more human. Cue Lex having a mental breakdown in his bedroom later because oh fuCK HE LEFT A CHILD WITH SO LITTLE KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD WITHOUT A PARENT- you can't convince me Lex wouldn't be a good dad solely to spite his own.

Danny's adopted and Lex is concerned for sure about this, apparently ghost as he quickly learned, kid that wakes up screaming sometimes. Boy is he glad to have built his whole place around keeping prying meta's out amongst other things- He's trying his best, and Danny is confused as hell about having a good parent. Even more confused because he's rich.

Lex is like "I'm totally doing this to ask about his capabilities" before panicking over Danny getting kidnapped despite knowing the kid could float through a wall if in real danger-

Cue many arguments about if Danny can go do things in general. Lex is very much stubborn about it even though he knows Danny is part ghost. This IS partially thanks to the few weeks it even took for Danny to heal from the blast he took from his parents. Either way, Danny won that argument in the end by saying he'd just float through the walls and go if he couldn't. They settled that if going as a ghost he just had to be careful about heroes and not changing in sight if at all, and if as Danny, he had to take a few bodyguards, though they could be discreet.

Either way, once Lex actually shows the world his kid, and he is so proud to call Danny his kid, Danny gets kidnapped. This is exactly why LEX SAID NO DANNY!!! Either way he gets saved by some Metropolis hero, superman or not, and he's instantly a little shit tm to them. More so because they asked a question about Lex, maybe even implying he was a bad dad, and even if Danny doesn't see him as a dad quite yet, there is no way he's standing for that!

In the end, it's a while before Danny actually goes much further than Metropolis, thank you very much Lex, this halfa knows how to do a thing or two!

Except he runs into trouble right away, that trouble being that uh oh- his underlying health issues he'd been ignoring up until now cuz they haven't messed up since his death- ignore the fact he learn that corrupted ectoplasm makes him basically have heart attacks if in human form because hey! doesn't happen if he's a ghost and he'll just switch before it happens- yeah that suddenly acts up when he runs, in human form because he wanted some coffee, straight into Red Hood. How fun.

Jason is confused because of the pit's usual anger and call for violence, upon seeing this random teen that literally ran into him, fall over in pain. Jason is worried as well obviously like this kid is definitely sick or something, but wHAT?!

He does the only logical thing obviously! taking him to one of his hideouts and not telling anyone-

Danny wakes up, sore, confused, and hella tired. Jason is equally as confused and tired, staring at the kid as he wakes up. The icky ecto doesn't actually hurt Danny from being near it, it's more like his body is thrown into cold water suddenly and it just has a violent initial reaction. So now Danny is trying to figure out why this person, ghost?, he can't tell, has the GROSSEST ecto he's ever seen, and if he's even aware of it. Let alone how the heck he's gonna help this random ghost, because by damn he's still technically the ghost king and his obsession isn't protection for nothing-

Now we have Danny, who's been unconscious for hours might I add, sitting with a very confused Jason. Danny wants to help the ghost person, he might just start calling him a halfa, but he was wrong about Vlad being a halfa, he's actually more of an ecto-possessed person, really confusing. Jason wants to know WHY this kid is making his pit rage not only calm, but worried, so he's having a time, actually having a clear head for once outside of his concern for this random child, that he's only just realizing he technically kidnaped....and definitely has forgotten to tell anyone about- Welp, he's not telling them now, his oddly comforting child now.

I have more ideas from this but I have been writing this for a while now so like- I'll tell ya more if ya want but only then- If I ever do write this it will 100% be more angsty than my blabbering here kjfsdnjkf

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp au #dp x dc au #dp/dc #danny phantom #dcmultiverse #jason todd #red hood #lex luthor #danny fenton #ghost king danny #we got the whole squad #and most of them have trauma v( ´∀｀*v)

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mysadcorner · 9 months

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Batboys x HighPainTolerance!Reader

- Credit to every gifs owner - Requests open -

Tag list: @simligul - Comment/DM to be part of the tag list for certain fandoms (please be specific)

Dick Grayson

Dick would be worried about you constantly, since he knew that because of your high pain tolerance you were less likely to seek medical attention when he thought you needed it.

He would always drop subtle hints such as “are you alright?” Or “don’t you think you should get that checked?” But if that doesn’t work, he’ll pull you aside to some place private and directly tell you to get the wound seen to. If it’s potentially life threatening, however, he will drag you to seek medical attention straight away no matter how much you protest and fight back.

Dick will personally patch you up himself, he’s helped Alfred enough times in the past to know how to stitch you up and prevent an infection, but after he’s done so he will constantly hover around you - even as you sleep. Or if you ended up in hospital because the wound was so bad he would hover around there too. This is simply because he always wants to be on hand to help you, and the idea of being away from you while you’re injured just makes him feel uncomfortable and incompetent in the situation.

Sometimes his protectiveness can be overbearing and the amount of guilt he feels that comes with it too. There have been many times that he has refused you coming out on patrol or on missions with him, but in his defence, it was all for your protection. So when you do get injured, he feels constantly guilty as if the wound was caused by himself, all because he failed to prevent it. This causes you to just sit down with him sometimes and enveloping him in a hug to let him know that it wasn’t his fault - and that you aren’t in as much pain as he thinks you are.

Jason Todd

Jason knows how to pick up on the little things about you, especially when no one else can. So when he sees even the slightest hint of discomfort or anything remotely wrong with you he immediately becomes concerned.

On the outside he’ll keep a calm and collected persona to make sure he doesn’t startle you, but on the inside he’s absolutely panicking about your injury. You’re acting fine and don’t seem to bothered by it, but that only concerns him more. He knows what trauma can do to a person, so when he sees your limited reaction he just thinks it’s due to the shock.

You having a high pain tolerance calms him quite a lot - the thought of knowing that you aren’t in as much pain and struggling through it as much as you could have been comes as a big relief - one that he becomes very thankful for. But that doesn’t stop him from letting his fuse go and shout at you a little for scaring him so much.

When you get hurt, he lets his vulnerabilities come to light as well as his emotions which shocks everyone that gets to see them. He often needs to be comforted in a subtle way by his brothers because of the distress he’s in and how bad he feels for not doing enough to protect you. But he knows that deep down he’d never let you die, and takes your injury as an opportunity to learn by his past mistakes or lack of attention to his surroundings. It also doesn’t take him long to get back to his previous self after you’ve recovered.

Tim Drake

Tim is a very passionate and sensitive man, so it doesn’t matter how high your pain tolerance is - he will always be concerned when he sees that you’re potentially hurt.

There are times that he gets quite emotional about it, as he only wants you to take care of yourself, so expect him to sit you down and share his concerns to you on quite a few occasions.

He’ll personally patch you up or help you get assistance even if you push him away, he’s not the type to let you sit and suffer - even if it isn’t causing you much of a problem. It’s almost as if he feels guilty for not taking part in fixing you up as it’s his job to check in on you and make sure you’re always alright.

There are many times that you’ll need to give him reassurance of you being okay, it’s not that he wants to pester you, but he just needs to know that there isn’t anything more that he could possibly do for you that he hasn’t already done. Even just sitting by you or holding his hand is good enough for him, and seeing you in little pain compared to the situation eases his mind about you having to deal with the pain in dangerous and wounding situations.

Tim will sit with you until you’re fully healed and will help you get around, even if you can walk perfectly fine. He likes to dote on you and feels bad not helping you out, but that can be overbearing every once and a while. But deep down he really is sweet about the situation - no matter how dramatic he may be when he sees you being hurt.

Damian Wayne

Damian probably wouldn’t notice you being hurt at first, but once he does he wouldn’t pay too much attention to it unless you were defenceless or it was a serious injury. He has a lot of faith in you and knows that you can carry yourself pretty well against someone that needs taken down.

If the injury is extremely serious he will try to get the both of you out of the situation you were both currently in, and force you to show him the injury no matter how much you tell him it’s not that bad. If it’s not too deep or serious he’ll temporarily patch you up until you can see some proper medical attention; but if it’s serious, he will absolutely rush around to get you seen you as quickly as possible.

While you’re injured and recovering, he can be very hostile to other who around to keep you company. He doesn’t like the idea of you pushing through your pain in order to accommodate other peoples want for attention or to push yourself more than you should. No matter how much you tell him you’re fine, he won’t let this go until you are fully recovered.

He does worry about you sometimes in random moments, in the back of his mind. He knows that he can be a very sarcastic and unwelcoming person a lot of the time, but he would hate the idea of you not telling him about the pain you were in because you didn’t feel safe or comfortable enough to no matter how much tolerance you have.

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the-fanfic-sideblog · 26 days

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Bat Situation part 2

Oh hi y'all..I'm reposting this on a sideblog because I don't want to spam my followers.

For some reason, the second part I posted didn't get nearly as much response as the first one.

While that could be because people didn't like it, I think maybe it didn't show up in the tags due to a Lonk.

Thank you so much for your enthusiastic support of my first part. (:

Anyway.

Have some bat shenanigans.

Have an obligatory bat pic, as a reminder of what Danny looks like right now.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire and vigilante, was having an excellent morning, as far as mornings went.

His patrols last night had been uneventful -everyone was staying locked up in Arkham, and he only had to scare off a few muggers.

Alfred prepared a large breakfast spread (one he'd actually indulge in instead of a smoothie), and miracle of all miracles, most of his children were present and, most importantly, NOT arguing about the latest topic.

He could almost pinch himself.

Of course, as soon as he thought about how pleasant his day was starting, Damian burst in, Bartok cradled gently in his hands, and declared, without a single thought to how much chaos he would cause,

"Father, I believe Bartok is a meta."

Bartok, once calm, screeched and chittered in panic, launching himself off of Damian's hands.

The way bats fly is very interesting. You see, instead of taking off from the ground like birds, bats have to drop from a certain height to gain the amount of lift necessary to fly.

This drop is generally around two to three feet, which, incidentally, is just beyond the vertical distance from Damian's hands to Bruce's pancakes.

Instead of swooping dramatically to freedom, Bartok landed face first in the aforementioned pancakes.

One thing that many people didn't know was that Bruce Wayne, billionaire and vigilante by the name of Batman, was scared of bats.

He pushed back from the table and jumped to his feet with a strangled shout, heart racing from the sudden scare.

Tim choked on his coffee, Duke patting him on the back to dislodge any liquid in his lungs.

Jason- who hadn't even planned on coming, as he told everyone - was curled over,one hand braced on Dick's shoulder, laughing so hard his face turned red.

Dick wasn't fairing much better, head down on the table, shoulders shaking.

He was thankful neither Stephanie nor Cassandra were present, but he was sure the Batchat™️ would catch them up to his embarrassing moment faster than he could beg for mercy.

He sighed and rubbed his temples, looking at Damian.

Damian was staring in something approaching horror at the bat, who was chomping on the spread of pancakes, bacons and eggs ravenously.

Alfred cleared his throat.

"..Perhaps we should return to the Batcave."

Damian nodded, scooped up Bartok- only wincing slightly at the sticky syrup covering his fur-, and led the charge, the rest of the family following after.

--------

In his defense, mealworms were kinda gross.

They probably weren't gross to the bat, who'd been eating bugs all his life, but to Danny, Ghost King and College Student, they ranked only slightly above the ecto contaminated hotdogs in his family's fridge.

His only meal for a week was mealworms, and while they were the highest quality Damian could find, the highest quality mealworm was still a mealworm.

While he hadn't intended on landing on the pancakes, as a starving college student with a ghost king enhanced appetite, who was he to turn down such a fortuitous turn of events?

It was totally worth it, he thought dreamily, licking little bits of bacon from tiny, sharp teeth.

He barely protested as hands gently scooped him up from the pancake pile. His enhanced metabolism would protect Bartok from the impromptu pancake feast, and truth be told, he hadn't felt so full in ages.

With a content yawn, he drifted off into sleep.

---------

Damian was not panicking.

Panicking was below him.

No, he was simply… walking with greater efficiency than usual towards the Batcave.

Sure, Bartok seemed fine- and was probably a meta- but even meta bats are insectivorous! Probably. This was an unknown situation with way too many variables.

He took a deep breath and walked towards the sink.

After he placed the sleeping (not dead, he checked) bat on a small towel, he ran some water, got a soft microfiber cloth, and began gently scrubbing Bartok as his family discussed the bat in the background.

"The rule is no metahumans in Gotham, he's a bat. It doesn't count." Drake started, a laugh still audible in his voice.

"I don't have a problem with metahumans, I just-" Father returned, exasperated, when Todd interrupted with a snarky,

"Yeah, Bruce is a control freak, not a bigot, get it right."

Damian's shoulders tensed, and he ached to jump to his father's defense, but he had a bat to clean. He gently stretched his wing and rubbed it with a wet cotton swab as the conversation continued.

"- can't just let him free, how will we guarantee his safety? We can't relocate him either, this is his colony. " One wing done. He patted it dry and stretched the other out.

"I vote we keep him. He's obviously got some form of advanced intelligence."

Bartok was nice and clean now. He still smelled faintly of maple syrup, but all stickiness had been washed away. Now he was drying in a freshly warmed towel.

"That's another thing. What if he's a human turned into a bat?"

Damian paused. Father had a good point.

"You think someone turned either themselves or someone else into a bat, ostensibly to infiltrate the Batcave, just to throw it all away in the face of pancakes?" Thomas's rejoinder made quite a lot of sense, and he relaxed. There's no way this bat was secretly a human.

"In his defense, Alfred does make the best pancakes." Drake joked.

Damian turned around, bat safely tucked away inside a soft carrier, and walked to his father's side.

"We need to evaluate his power set if he's going to remain with us. " Father said, placing one hand on Damian's shoulder.

"So far we have possible human intelligence, advanced healing… have you noticed anything else, Damian?"

Damian thought for a minute. " I have not. He has mostly been in a carrier, healing. "

"We'll have to test him, then."

"We have to figure out a method of communication first. He may be sentient, we can't just test him without consent." Interjected Thomas.

Damian nodded in agreement. "Perhaps when he wakes up we can assess him."

-----

Enough was enough.

Danny woke up gradually, and decided today was the day to leave. The family had been nice, but he quite frankly didn't want to be someone's pet.

Break would be over soon, after all, and he needed to let someone know that he hadn't been kidnapped.

He tried to unpossess the bat.

It didn't work. That wasn't too surprising, considering how hard overshadowing was. He was still getting the hang of it, especially with his recent boost in power.

He tried again. He could feel something shifting, but he snapped right back into the bat's body.

It's ok. Third time's the charm. He tried again- thought intensely about how he was, in fact, not actually a bat, how his ectoplasm was normally shaped, how having opposable thumbs felt, the college dorm he lived in-

But…nothing happened.

He was beginning to panic a little bit.

He tried again, and again, and again- sometimes going intangible, sometimes invisible, once accidentally cloning his bat form, even shooting the tiniest blast of ectoplasm out of his mouth.

No matter what he did, he was stuck in the bat.

It no longer felt like a vacation. The walls of the carrier seemed to close in on him and he panicked, turning intangible and falling straight through the table, landing on the concrete below with a soft thump. He screeched in frustration, hopping along the floor until warm hands scooped him up, lifting him to eye level.

Instinctively, he bit, and whoever was holding him cursed, dropping him.

He spread his wings and flew away, dodging hands and capes trying to catch him with an instinctive fluidity.

He had to find Jazz, his parents, somebody-anybody- that could help him.

#dp x dc au #dp x dc fic #dp x dc crossover #batpham #dp x dc writing prompt #dp x dc fanfic #second try #sorry if it did actually show up and im just being a dork

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an-entity-i-think · 6 months

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Okay so you know the drill,, there's a gala! Wow Bruce Wayne is so dreamy 😍 he's a whore 🥵 he's a dad 🥰 he's a- oh shit he's a hostage 😳

Everyone looks around frantic and scared but also... not really... cause ya know... this happens like every Wayne gala? Like they had to sign a slip saying that Wayne Inc isn't liable for any injuries during a possible takeover cause the Board was tired of people sneaking in just to sue after being shot by Ozzie's umbrella gun (it was just a graze 🙄) (Bruce pays for them all anyway)

But! This time Damian was in his arms when he was taken hostage! Extra collateral! How tragic! He's just a poor boy ;(

The corners have shadows of course and next thing you know- through a series of odd instances that are totally irrelevant to the story (oh his other children must be so scared! Must have hid under the tables since no one saw them,, how terribly sad) -a few of Gotham's vigilantes show up to save the day! (Is it 9 already?)

Alas! a goon (he's new, he's blue, he'll shoot himself in the shoe 🎶) gets startled and almost shoots poor defenseless Damian Wayne and oh Bruce becomes a real papa bear and slams his fist into the goons face-

"No." He practically growls- which uh Brucie can growl? A spattering of confusion goes around the room before a laughing Red Hood can be heard after checking on the goon-

"Damn! Good job papi!"

Everyone in the room pauses.

Did the Red Hood... just call Brucie Wayne Papi? The Red Hood, the anti-hero of unknown age who just recently obtained the praise of the city for taking down the recent baddie with the Gotham sirens when all the other bats seemed to be out of town?

A million ideas pass through the thoughts of the elite in attendance.

A million thoughts pass through Jason who just realized what he said after seeing that Goon Lagoon lost his front teeth.

He looks to Nightwing and in state of panic they speak to each other in a way that only panicking siblings who can't speak can share-

'You done fucked up,' Dick seems to say with a twitch of his eyebrow.

'Obviously, you stupid idiot, but how do I fix it,' Jason responds practically psychically with a tilt of his head.

Dick just looks at him in pity, and with a shake of his head, he stares into his little brother's soul with the plan

-of course nobody else hears this conversation,, everyone in the room just watches the two vigilantes stare at each other weirdly for a few seconds (theyre on complete opposite sides of the room? There is not a single shred of subtle about them having a mental conversation even if nobody knows what it's about) before a look a pure absolute disgust reveals itself across Red Hood's masked face (he threw his helmet for fun earlier in the battle not important) before settling into a neutral stiffness.

Solemnly devastated, like he's about to go off to war and his Beau will be left behind to be cared for by his evil brother who will no doubt try to take advantage of his estate,,

or like a teenager being told by an acquaintance that they found their old elementary school YouTube account with videos of them role-playing with their Littlest Pet Shop animals,,

or like when a mother writes a 12k story for her fandom during her toddlers nap time only for the child not only to wake up before expected but also somehow spill applejuice all over her laptop (the one she's had since she was a teen) shorting it and deleting the story because she didn't press save on top of being morbidly tired from lack of sleep-

He looks up and says with clarity in his voice even if it's also filled with the verbal equivalent of eating 4 lemons raw and slow- peel and all,

"That's what I call him in bed."

Everyone in The Know takes psychic damage.

The elite in the crowd do little more than nod before moving on.

Bruce just smiles big and fake and pretends like he doesn't want to die.

Red Hood looks at his gun with wistfullness, while Nightwing does an unnecessary amount of acrobatics along the chandeliers above them just to land next to him and pat him on the shoulder.

Later, an anonymous commenter spoke about hearing Damian Wayne whisper to himself, "I hate this fucking family," as Timothy Drake-Wayne (who appeared miraculously safe and sound) gave him a nod of agreement.

#brucie wayne #jason todd #red hood #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #desperate times call for desperate measures #cass couldnt stop laughing #shes been on the chandalier for two hours #steph cried that she missed it #the boys mourn #all those batman and robin jokes for this?#bruce and jason look at each other for one (1) moment before ignoring each other for 3 weeks #after they pretend it never happened to the point that tim and damian discuss magical influence #babs knows for a fact they spoke with zatanna #zatanna said no tho #entity writes dc

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stealingyourbones · 6 months

Note

Hello, first I would like to greatly apologize for any spam of likes I have sent your way because my brain decided to obsess randomly with Dp x Dc crossovers for the past few days. I'm not even into Dc comics, and I only watch Danny Phantom when I randomly it exists and the fandom pulls me back into its clutches until I'm able to finally escape only to be pulled back in a few months later. I write this to you at 1:30 am with a bag of shittily made popcorn with my cat accompanying me because my mind has decided to fall in love with Danny being taken care of by the Bat family and it's mostly you're fault. I hope you're happy. I want to kiss you so bad you have no idea. I've come up with so many scenarios and have the balls to share them with you cause I really like the way you write and since I'm not a writer I have no idea what I'm doing but here I go:

Danny and Dani are basically travelling the world, Danny would call it running from the cops but that doesn't have as nice a ring to it. (Situation can be up to you, bad reaction from parents, was framed, anything for Danny and Dani on the run with Danny having protective older brother vibes)

They end up in Gotham for a few nights to rest easily and its snowing cause I said so and theyre starving at this point. Danny's like "We need to hide and need shelter" and Dani's like "Dude look over there at that creepy mansion :D" And they have no idea that its not only very much inhabited, but a bunch of rich people live there (And the Bat family but who cares about that part)

Danny is obviously on the fence cause 1. He doesn't have a good history with rich people so why their houses and 2. They dont know whats in there what if a bunch of weirdos are staying there but they decide they're cold and need a place to rest so they fly in and luckily land in the kitchen.

The lights are off and they're to focused on finding food to notice two figures standing in the middle of the kitchen just watching them.

Dani pulls out a box of the shittiest cereal you can think that shouldn't be counted as cereal all happy "Danny, they have my favorite cereal!" And poor Danny's horrified, "Have you even ever had cereal before?"

They start rambling and then someone turns on the light its Alfred he was in the middle of boiling midnight tea for him and Tim.

And there's just 2 GLOWING awkward teens FLOATING, one's holding Bruce's 'cereal' clearly not assesing the situation and the other has a horrified expression on their face, and looks like on the verge of passing out.

Tim is way to sleep deprived thinking they're hallucinations and sits down, also on the verge of passing out, while Alfred just keeps boiling his tea.

Danny is sweating trying to figure out how hes gonna get them out if this situation and Danis just, munching on dry crappy cereal.

Albert like the God he is just fucking opens the fridge, looks Dani in the eye and asks "Would you like some milk with that, my lady?" And thats all I got out of me FOR THAT SCENARIO.

The other is I fucking forgot I took 30 mins to write all this I forgot what else I had Im so sleep deprived OH FUCK I REMEMBER IT WAS ABOUT DRUGS

Ok so tw for drugs (weed):

Ok so Danny's a teen he's stupid right, knowing him in the show he'd be the kid to decline drugs but then take a hit when his crush says "i KnEw YoU wEreNt coOl" yknow? Delicious social pressure.

Well he's like pretty much adopted by the Wayne's at this point so he's just chilling on the couch about to light a joint and Jason being the noble man he is snatches it out of Danny's hand like "Nono, bad small child dont do drugs" half joking and smokes it instead.

Danny's now panicking, silently following Jason to make sure he's alright and not dead or reacting badly to it.

"Yeah why wouldn't I be fine?" And the high kicks in.

The thing is is that it was ghost weed. And Jason for once feels completely calm, he doesn't feel a single bit of the pit its silent.

He's crying and Danny's like "Omg are you ok???" Thinking he poisoned his family/lover/whatever the fuck they are.

And Jason's just "This is some real good shit" silently sobbing, not even thinking about where Danny got it or why its doing this he's just happy.

And you can turn this into extreme angst by making him codependent or a comedy by him making high jokes

Ok thats it again I'm so sorry I just really had to tell someone this

Homie you, me, behind the Bat Burger; We shall marry at dawn. Man, it makes me so happy that you enjoy the stuff I write that much I’m really proud that I could bring you that much joy! Be sure to give your kitty some pets for me :).

Oh also, “not a writer”?! You spin a web of lies. This is incredible!! Sure it’s rambly, but that’s because you’re writing in a way that’s unsure of yourself. (It’s also very much so how I write so I feel you homie.) I still feel like my writing is equivalent to a middle schooler's but I do my best to shake that off. I don’t write fics because I’m bad at dialogue, I’m workin on it though! You simply just have to try and believe in yourself. You’ll reread it later and go, “Damn, did I just write that?!” And feel proud of what you accomplished. You absolutely have unique and brilliant ideas so take a shot at writing some stuff! I’m sure you’ll do great! :D

Also bro your: "what was I talking about? oH YEAH DRUGS!" was so unexpected. it made me laugh so hard so thank you for that :)

———

Danny and Dani are fucking floored that this stoic-ass old British man just rolled with seeing the two. Dani's eyes light up as she accepts the milk from the British guy. Snatching the fancy glass milk container, she haphazardly pours the milk into her bowl causing bits of cereal to ricochet the milk out of the bowl and flying absolutely everywhere.

Tim just stands still and stares at the two very much so Not Human entities that are currently in his house. The tired vigilante rummages around in his pocket for his phone and takes a quick photo of the scene in front of him.

Tim double takes glancing between the kitchen and his phone. At first he assumed they were hallucinations because no figures were present in the photograph… the floating bowl of cereal and spoon says otherwise.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dc comics #writing prompts #bones replies #anon #genuinely dude your writing is fascinating! sorry it took me so long to get to your ask because this is INCREDIBLE

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batsandbugs · 7 months

Text

Bruce Wayne’s Headache Classification System Chapter 3

IKEA Verse

A/N: The author shows up a month and a half late, with Starbucks: S'up, here's 7500 words of pure chaos. Feast! Y'all are the best, thank you for the amazing comments in the last chapter. I love seeing your excitement for this crazy little world I've created. I have a new fic that I'll be adding eventually, called: "The Stalking of Daminette: A Treatise by Steph and Cass" it's still in its baby stage, so we'll see how long that grows before I post. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it because I have not started on the next part and I'm moving in less than a month, so maybe the next chapter will be out sometime in October, but I'm not making any promises. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Bruce narrows his eyes and pins his children with an unimpressed stare. “What did you do?

“He was totally willing!” Dick insists with an innocent grin.

“Coercion.”

“Manhandling.”

Dick’s grin disappears evilly side-eyeing his brothers. “Both of you suck at being back up.”

“He didn’t want to at first,” confesses Tim. “But they held my computer hostage to convince me to agree.” Tim rubs a hand over the top of his laptop in a soothing manner. “So, I stole all his knives so he couldn’t stab us, while Jason and Dick wrangled him into the car.”

“Little demon was spittin’ nails, but we persuaded him not to throw himself out the car, so he was trapped.”

“By the time we arrived, I convinced them how a game of hide-and-seek would be a fun, non-disastrous way to spend time together,” says Dick, his face one of ruined hopes and dreams.

“Mostly through bribes, blackmail, and calls to our innate competitiveness,” says Tim.

“Dickie kept the keys so none of us could leave, and declared himself seeker first,” Jason continues. “He found me-"

"In the food court," says Dick.

"Then Replacement-"

"At the Starbucks."

"Didn't even get to have that coffee," grumbles Tim.

"So we joined forces and decided to search for Damian together. We spent an hour chasing him in circles. Swear I almost caught him too.”

Tim scoffs, “Yeah no, he had us good. We had no clue where he was.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh, shut up Tim.”

“You shut up,” Tim shoots back.

“Boys…” warns Bruce, already regretting bringing all three of them into this sitrep.

“Okay, so he evades us long enough to team up with a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng-” starts Tim.

Jason growls a bit. “Lying bitch.”

“Jason…” Dick sighs but doesn’t refute the insult. This only serves to deepen Bruce’s headache which now strongly veers out of the I-am-not-mentally-or-emotionally-prepared-for-this category and straight into Ongoing-dumpster-fire territory.

This was fine.

Jason slams a fist on the table. “She lied to my face multiple times! She said she was hired to poison Tim and Damian in order to steal Tim’s phone and if I didn’t find them in time, they were gonna die from brain damage!”

Bruce blinks. Did he hear that right? “Sorry, what?”

Tim sighs. “Okay, rewind, so Damian evading us like the little assassin he trained to be, hooks up with Marinette, who, as far as my research shows, is a civilian-”

“Yeah right, girlie ain’t a civilian. No way, not in a million years.”

“Shut up Jason, let Tim talk,” snaps Dick.

“She lied to Jason about where Damian was, and between her initial meeting with Jason and the incident in the food court, about an hour passed. Then she appeared in the cafeteria with Damian’s card, how we tracked her there in the first place. She panicked when she saw us and used her magic on the shelves in the warehouse to cause a diversion-”

“She crushed a fucking forklift, and we got blamed and billed for it.”

‘How?’ Bruce thinks in despair. Not over the money, of course. They had more than enough to cover costs, just in the general sense of incredulity. One would think, after being Batman this long, it would inoculate Bruce from bewilderment at all types of situations.

It has not.

Tim shakes his head. “No, I proved we had nothing to do with that."

‘Oh well isn’t that grand?’

"Didn’t manage to pin anything on her either considering how much electrical interference occurred whenever she performed magic, but we don’t have to pay.”

“Magic doesn’t cause electrical interference,” Bruce reminds them. “Not unless it completely breaks the system in the process.” All three boys – men really, his kids all grown up now, even if they pulled stupid shit like this – turn to him. Identical expressions of contemplation played over their faces.

“Shit, you’re right,” mutters Dick.

“Well, her magic does,” counters Tim, his brow creasing heavily, grasping past the sleepy, foggy haze that comes with being awake for three days straight. Grabbing a notepad he jots down the observation. “Her magic doesn’t obey any rules we know to be true.”

“It’s magic, dumbass,” Jason sneers. “It doesn’t have to make sense. I’m still on the fence about whether she enchanted Damian though. On one hand, demon-spawn shouldn’t be capable of smiling that much, and he defended her, deferred to her, fucking used her first name without blinking an eye. That ain’t natural for him. On the other hand, she’s the same brand of demented as he is, and maybe they want to be horrible little demons together.”

“I…” starts Dick before trailing off, his face flickers through a series of emotions. Mostly fragile hope, pragmatic disbelief, and good heaping of uncertainty.

“See, Golden Boy, even you can’t say this is a good thing!”

“He made a friend?” Dick offers with a pained wince.

“She’s a psychopath!”

Bruce cuts off the argument. As much as he would love to hear more in-depth detail about Damian’s newest… acquaintance, he wants a clearer picture of what happened at the store before he judges the situation. “Boys, behave. Tim, please continue.”

Tim nods. “Okay, so Marinette escapes the warehouse, and we track her back to their entry point into the vent system. We split up to cover more ground, I take the warehouse and keep myself from the worker’s sight but close enough to the vent I could spot them exiting. About forty-five minutes later they set me on fire-”

“Wait,” interrupts Bruce. “Fire? FIRE?”

Tim looks at him like he’s being particularly slow. “Uh, yeah, I said that a time or two now, keep up. To be fair, the fire was more around me. But I did end up singed.” He shows his arm sleeve again, and the singeing on the sleeve takes on a whole new meaning.

“I wasn’t sure what happened at the time, I expected to catch the little twerps, not engage in guerilla warfare. So, understandably, I’m off my game. The security guard dragged me into the office, and I’m ready to call for backup, only to find my phone missing. I talk down the manager in the warehouse, but then he yells at these poor workers. And Bruce, they were kids, couldn’t be more than fifteen, working in this busy warehouse with no clue about any rights they had, and then after the manager became… distracted I conversed with the other workers, and-”

Tim’s one-breath ramble was swiftly cut off by Jason. “Yeah, yeah you caused a worker’s strike through the power of charisma and rhetoric. So original. No one else in the world’s history has ever done that. Can we get back to the French bitch tricking me?”

Tim huffs, crossing his arms. “You can continue then because I wasn’t part of that.”

“Cool, I will. So, there I wait at my post, and it’s been like an hour and a half at this point. Timmy finally calls, but it’s not actually him it’s the French girl. She’s actin’ like a paid assassin slash company spy, and says she poisoned Tim and Damian through tricking them into eatin’ poisoned coffee and shit.”

“And you believed that?” Bruce asks. Jason glares at him with piercing green-blue eyes, and although his second son puts off an air of anger and annoyance, it’s a mask for a deep-seated fear that his brothers were genuinely in danger. That he would be too slow, too late to save them, like what happened to-

Jason flippantly shrugs his shoulders, years of practiced reticence covering his care. “With our craptastic luck, I sure as hell wasn’t going to take any chances. So, I go chasin’ and-”

“~It’s a trap~,” Tim gloats in a sing-songy voice, his grin wide and eyes unfocused. He’s going to crash soon, it’s just a matter of time.

“Shut up, you ended up set on fire and pickpocketed. You have no leg to stand on.” Tim rolls his eyes but slouches back in his chair. “So, it’s a trap, and demon-spawn is waitin’ there with one of those tricked-out trip wires Timmy made. He and Frenchie wrapped me up good, taunted me, and stripped me taking my wallet and phone. Bitch also took my knife. I insult the brat, and he fires back, but before he does anything else Marinette pulls him back and tells him to simmer down and he does.” Jason’s wide eyes drip with incredulity and, quite frankly, a little awe.

“I see,” Bruce says, a fake calm surrounding his words. He really didn’t. They were talking about Damian. Bruce loves his only biological son, he truly does. He loves Damian’s sketches, and care for animals, he loves his dedication to sword mastery and sly humor. The way his son has the same wrinkle crease between his eyes Bruce gets, and that Thomas did before them. The similarity soothes a small part of Bruce’s aching soul. He’s ridiculously proud of all the work and effort Damian went through, put himself through, to become a better person. To overcome the trauma his upbringing caused and come out stronger.

That being said, Damian was still arrogant, stubborn, and quick-tempered. He considered his opinions and plans more highly than others, and unless one could give a quick and compelling explanation as to an alternative option, he would be proceeding with his plan with efficiency; damn anything else standing in his way. Damian spared no sympathy to the average person and even less for fools.

This behavior was extremely out of character for him.

Which made the entire situation ring with alarm.

Jason shook his head. “I don’t think you do,” he says, calling Bruce’s lie out. “You’re gonna need to see it to really understand. Anyway, they leave me there for the police to find me, and the wire’s wound on tight, so I’m still struggling to get them off when security finds me ten minutes later.” Jason smirks. “Now those idiots had no clue who they were dealing with, and they loosened the wire round my legs, cause they sure as hell couldn’t carry me. By the time we reached the car I was out of the bonds and knocked one out and escaped from the other. Fat-ass bastard.”

“Language,” Bruce reminds him. Jason flips him off.

“Fine, the heavy-set bastard. Better?”

Bruce sighs. “Not really.”

“I scale the building, figuring the store entrances would be monitored. They had a nice handy dandy human-sized ventilation shaft up there - no wonder with the place’s fucking size - so, I shimmy down-”

“Like Santa,” Tim giggles, well past bordering on a manic state, and instead moved well into the capital of it.

The comment doesn’t appear to have fazed Jason though, who takes another long sip of his alcohol-soda mixture. “And like Santa, I have a knack for toys. I emerge out of a vent in the children’s toy area and snag myself a nerf gun.”

Sharp pain blooms on the side of Bruce’s neck. He doesn’t let it show on his face though. “Why?”

“Seemed like a good at the time, ya know?”

Bruce mentally counts to ten, takes a deep breath, and says, “Sure.”

“So, I head towards the play area to find Dick, because obviously, Replacement was a lost cause.”

“Geeze thanks, Jason.”

“But before I can get there, I spot Demon Spawn constructin’ a wacky ass Rube Goldberg contraption-”

Dick winces. “I saw the remains when I chased after Marinette. It was initially meant for me.”

“You were chasing the girl?”

Dick pouts. “She stole my phone!”

“Wait, so a civilian pickpocketed all of you?”

“She was quick,” mutters Tim.

Jason raises a finger. “She didn’t technically pickpocket me, she frisked me after tying me up. I was fully aware of the stealing.”

Bruce reminds himself that he can’t strangle his children. He. Can’t. Strangle. His. Children. “I plan to make all of you go through awareness training, again. A civilian!?”

“Still not convinced,” Jason mutters, crossing his arms.

“I don’t care she certainly hasn’t trained with assassins and spent half her life mastering stealth and deception. I expect better from you all.” All three men mutter in acquiescence, to the extent that they would do better. “Continue.”

Jason’s demureness fades to be replaced with a gleeful grin. “Yeah, there wasn’t much left of the trap after I jumped the little bastard. I started shooting-”

“Jason…” Bruce’s headaches gain a specific twinge of exhaustion whenever Jason becomes involved. It’s a talent he possessed since the day Bruce found him hi-jacking the Batmobile’s tires.

Jason’s hands go up in defense. “With the nerf gun, chill Bruce I ain’t trying to contribute to America’s public shooting crisis. I wouldn’t take a loaded gun into a shopin’ center unless crazies were already causin’ chaos.”

“I’d prefer you not to use guns at all.” It’s a pointless request, but maybe one day Jason would cede to it.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, you’re still gunna lose that one pops. I got a rep to maintain.”

Bruce reigns in a sigh. Expected.

“Anyway, everythin’ was fine, I’d managed to dismantle their little trap for ya, you’re welcome,” he says with a pointed glance at Dick.

His eldest crosses his arms, and with a total deadpan stare, replies, “Thanks, Jason.”

“But then a security guard interfered after I knocked down a display or two.”

“So, you strung him up and gagged him?” Dick asks voice rising into the hysterical range.

Bruce now understands why Tim looks exhausted, dealing with the fallout from a situation this unhinged for the past forty-eight hours.

“No, I didn’t do that. Demon spawn already set the rig, waitin’ for you. The guard tripped it.” He pauses, cheese-covered chip in hand. “Although I did add the gag, he was shoutin’ too much and grabbin’ attention. It only took a second, but by the time I turned back, Damian had shot off like a rocket.”

“Don’t take your eyes off the target,” chides Tim, with a smug little grin.

Jason’s eyes flash a brighter shade of green. “Fire.”

“Shut up.”

“Boys…” Bruce warns.

“Fine, fine,” Jason mutters, as he takes another sip of his drink. “I chase him through the store and he’s barely keepin’ ahead of me. I keep shootin’ at him. Newer nerf guns have a range and a surprising amount of ammo. Bastard didn't even look inconvenienced; he takes a fucking phone call at one point.”

“That was when I was chasing Marinette and we found the remains of their plan,” Dick interrupts. “She panicked with the sprung trap and called someone, but I couldn’t hear a word.”

“Yeah, he jumps off the call when I manage a shot at his head, and I’m close enough to have him in reach. Unfortunately, he ducked into the employee-only entrance. We weave through security rooms and offices and shit, and of course, causin’ chaos there.”

“He was right there, and yet somehow, we’re the only ones banned,” mutters Tim.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Pretty sure I saw him dump a pot of coffee on-” Tim groans in frazzled distress. “Bad Timbo, you can’t have any more caffeine until you take a goddamn nap!”

Tim slouches into the solid wood dining chair. “You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my dad.”

“Tim you can’t have any more caffeine until you sleep,” Bruce says.

Jason grins, sticking his tongue out at Tim, while Tim only glares and mutters something under his breath about ‘killjoys’ and ‘he’ll show them tired’ and Bruce really doesn’t want to see the result of that decision. This needs to wrap up soon. For both Tim’s sake, and his own as his headache has moved from Hassles-have-evolved-into-ongoing-dumpster-fires to Information-overload-caused by-dumbass-decisions-please-reboot-system.

“I get tangled in an office jam – literally, there were cords involved and by the time I scramble out of it, Damian’s already through a door and down a hallway. I haven’t a clue which way he’s gone, so I pick a direction and gun it because security is on my tail and there ain’t time to waste. I head down a hallway and lock the doors behind me to give me a second of breathing room. Then I spot the intercom system.”

“I wondered how you got close enough to use that,” Dick muses.

“I wondered what they did to piss you off so bad,” Tim adds.

Dick nods. “Same.”

“Yeah, so I call out Demon Spawn and French Bitch over the intercom, and I know they both must have panicked, but the guards broke through the locked doors, so I split. Now here’s the fucking miracle.” Jason leans forward, grinning. “I find the door that’ll take me back to the showroom area, the guards bearing down on me from all four sides. I don’t have a chance in hell, when the lights go off.”

“Blackout?” questions Bruce.

“Magic,” Dick says flatly. “It was Marinette.”

Jason slaps the table, snarling, “Damnit! Now I have to give credit to her.”

“She knocked out electricity to the whole store,” says Tim.

“And caused a display to collapse in front of me. I tripped,” admits Dick.

“You have fought off assassins while poisoned, and executed advanced acrobatic maneuvers with broken bones, and you tripped over a toppled Swedish store display because of the dark?” Bruce knows he’s trained his children better. Why in the world did this go so sideways on them?

Dick braces his arms against the table and roughly slides his fingers through his hair. ”I know. I know. I was right there. Any other day and I wouldn’t have blinked about jumping right over it, but this time it felt… off. Bad day?”

“You’re getting old Golden Boy.” Jason takes a sip of his drink, doing nothing to hide his shit-eating grin as he teases his older brother. “I guess it’s all downhill from here ain’t it.”

Dick flips him off.

Jason sticks out his tongue.

Bruce’s headache takes on a twinge of my-children-are-immature-brats feeling (generally categorized by a sharp sting right at his temple) and holds in an exasperated sigh.

“So, after magic girl shuts the lights off with her mind or whatever, I escape the security guards by an inch. One emergency exit later, and I’m back in the store proper. People are freakin’ the fuck out about the lights. By the time they turn on again, I’ve lost Damian for good, and now I just try to stay off security’s radar. I settle in a nice little blind spot right outside the children’s toy area and keep myself out of any trouble.” Jason looks over at Dick, fighting to keep a smug grin off his face. “Course I did see a woman go off on a poor employee. I kept my nose clean of it ‘cause it wasn’t my business.”

“Oh, ha, ha very funny. That woman was a menace,” groans Dick.

“Woman?” Bruce questions, almost scared to ask.

“Jessica Merope-Laverne, fifty-five, resident of Pleasantville. Married twice, has two children, a restraining order, and a police file with multiple notes about disturbing the peace,” Tim rattles off. “Thoroughly unpleasant.”

“That’s an understatement,” mutters Dick.

“Practically dragged Dickie Bird away by the ear.”

“Right as I was about to nab Marinette too. She’d hidden in one of the wardrobes in the room, and I was this close-” Dick positions his fingers scant centimeters apart from each other, “-to cornering her, and I got dragged away.”

“Shit, would have loved to know that,” mutters Jason. “Anyway, I stood around, making sure nobody was on my tail, soon I heard rumors about a ruckus in the atrium-”

“That would be me,” Tim admits with a grin.

“Well, I didn’t know that. I was hoping demon spawn and Frenchie were involved somehow, so I headed over, and then-”

“Oh, I know what happened from there. I saw the video.” Bruce pins Tim and Jason with a stare. “I respect both of you have opinions-”

“Opinions? Opinions? I have justified grounds for calling out his revolutionary bullshit! His entire life embodies nothing but the anthesis of systemic poverty, and he argues for class cooperation!” shouts Jason. Bruce always marvels at how eloquent Jason becomes when angry.

“Violence isn’t the answer,” counters Tim. “You would harm the very people you try to uplift in the process.”

“Sure, it is! It’s the natural response to a gluttonous, greedy, overburdened, bureaucratic system that’s leeching off the populous and perpetuating its own supremacy.”

Tim slams a hand against the table, raising to his feet, exhaustion clearing from his eyes. “It’s an option, not the option. We can do better than violence if we work at the cause's root problem without pulling out a fucking guillotine.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Oh of course you would argue for that, you’ve never had less than six figures in your bank account in your life.”

“So says the self-proclaimed drug lord!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“A bag of heads on the steps of the GCPD!”

“Oh, get over it!”

“If it matters,” interjects Dick. “Probably doesn’t, systemic economic issues are hard to fix when we have bigger problems like an actively insane criminal population that likes destroying important city infrastructure on a monthly basis.”

“Which Wayne Enterprises does its best to counter,” adds Bruce, not bothering to chide his children back on track. This particular topic turned them into a bunch of unherdable cats.

“Funneling more money into the one percent’s hands!” Jason’s bordering on manic at this point.

“We are the one percent, Jason!” counters Tim. “And we stay that way, despite the copious amount of infrastructure projects, that we hire Gotham citizens for, and pay at least a living wage to all of them. Not to mention every other single employee we hire who also are paid a living wage, with benefits, and support. I know I am privileged. I am trying here.” The last sentence came out as a distraught cry, as he collapses back into his chair.

“Are… are you okay?” Dick asks tentatively, ready to cross the table to comfort his brother.

Tim shoves his hands into his hair and mutters, “I need an espresso.”

“No, you need sleep,” says Bruce, mentally calculating where all the caffeine in the house is so he can hide it. “Can we return to the recap, so your brother can go to bed?”

“My side of things is much shorter in comparison to Jason’s,” says Dick. “As long as nobody interrupts.” Casting a pointed glare in Jason’s direction. Jason shrugs casually and crosses his arms.

“I waited at the children’s play area. Now, a man my age would attract attention without a need to be there, so I’d ducked into the employee-only area, and grabbed a shirt to disguise myself. I hung out in the Starbucks for a good forty-five minutes trying to look like I was on break while observing the play area. Although I couldn’t tell where the vent entrance was, I figured two adults Damian and Marinette’s size would be easy to spot coming out of an area meant for children.

“When an hour and a half passed by, I’m nervous, because neither Jason nor Tim has sent any word. I called them both. They didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, 'cause the French phone napper took our phones,” mutters Jason.

“So, I decided to do some reconnaissance. The lady at the front desk looked bored enough, and so I went over to… chat.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You mean flirt.”

Dick glares. “Shut up. So, I hang around the front desk for half an hour at most, before the kids went crazy. Like plastic balls being thrown everywhere, kids shrieking, this one little girl, later we learn her name is Abby, she’s doing this whole speech about a revolution-”

“Tim…”

“Not me, I’m not here at this point.”

“I stand there in shock, wondering what the heck set it all off. This one little girl runs up to the daycare worker, Melinda? Melody? Something. I don’t remember. And the little girl’s nose was bleeding, so there immediately goes my peaceful cover. I back up into the crowd, which at this point has gathered around pretty thick.”

“You know I wondered why there were so many people hanging around in that front lobby area,” says Tim.

“I’m almost sure the commotion has something to do with Marinette and Damian, so I keep my eyes peeled waiting for any adult-sized figures to emerge from the play area.” Dick sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. “I was right of course, but I missed Marinette slipping out, and she approached me from behind.”

“This is where you get pickpocketed too!” crows Jason.

“Really, Richard?” asks Bruce with a raised brow. This is ridiculous.

“Okay, look, I was distracted, off my game, there was a ton of screeching, and it had been a long day. And she was very good. The technique was flawless, minus a bit of overacting and a touch of obviousness. Which was her goal because-”

“~It was a trap~” Jason and Tim sing together.

“It was bait,” Dick corrects. “Leading me to a trap, that didn’t even work. So really, I did the best between the three of us.”

“You all will complete remedial awareness training, so a situation like this never happens again.” Bruce massages the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh. “Just… just please continue.”

“I can’t full-out chase her or anything, but she keeps out of reach through the store, until we reach the place where they set the trap. Obviously, Jason already tripped it, so she turned face and ran in the opposite direction. I followed, trying to convince her to stop and talk. But at this point, she’s full-on outpacing me and doing well too. I’m hesitant to say trained, but she had practice.”

“She’s gotta be a spy, or maybe she’s working for the League?” muses Jason.

“Damian would see right through that,” interrupts Bruce. He knows his youngest son has an instinct when sniffing out undercover League members. Talia certainly sent enough of them over the years.

“Maybe she’s just that good?” says Tim. “I certainly can’t find a damn thing on her, and being a League plant would explain that.”

Dick shrugs. “We’ll figure out her deal later. She calls Damian, and they talk briefly, but I couldn’t hear the conversation. Soon after Jason does his whole intercom takeover Marinette pulls out her little magic electro bursts and short circuits the electricity to the entire store.”

“And then caused you to trip.”

Dick wearily nods. “And then caused me to trip. By the time I detangle myself, she’s long gone. The lights come back on, and I’m stuck wondering where the hell she’s gone. I try to avoid getting clocked by security, so I keep to blind spots, which is how I eventually spot her doing the same.”

“Suspicious,” mutters Tim. “More evidence for the ‘League plant’ theory.”

“Or she could know security is looking for a woman of her description and she’s smart, either way, I tail her and corner her in a display room, no idea why she chose that one, but when I walk in it’s empty.”

“She teleported, or vanished like a ninja,” gasps Tim, eyes wide, pupils smaller than pinpricks. Bruce is now counting the seconds until he passes out.

Dick shakes his head. “No, she hid in the fucking closet. Tim, you need sleep.” Tim sticks out his tongue.

“I was this-” Dick places his fingers centimeters away from each other “-close to nabbing her, and then the whole Jessica situation happened.” He rubs a hand through already messed up, fly-away hair. “She drags me away screeching about lawyers and customer service, and it had been a very long day, so the second her back was turned I bolted. I couldn’t risk heading back to the display room, although if I were Marinette I’d be long gone, so I backtracked to where I stuffed my actual clothes and headed towards the atrium.”

“Yes, I saw your arrival as well,” Bruce confirms with an exasperated drawl. The videos spread out across multiple platforms gave an all-around idea of what happened in the atrium. “You all know better than to escalate things in public. We have an image to maintain after all." The boys nod, cowed and guilty. "That being said, things wrapped up rather neatly.” He eyes the boys with a paranoid weariness. “Too neatly.”

All three sag into their seats and gaze at each other with sheepish grimaces.

“Yeah, B, we noticed that too,” says Jason. “But at the time…” he trails off.

Tim continues, his speech sluggish. “It felt normal, to accept what was going on. The fight, the crazy lady, the little kid with the ball pit balls, her uncle being Dick’s old friend, and the store manager, and they let us go. It was easy to go along with it.” Grimacing, he gestures to his assorted piles of papers. “You know, besides for all the work I have now.” Crossing his arms on the table he lays his head in the middle. “Too many people, so little sense.”

“Damian hasn’t said a word about any of it.” Dick slouches lower in his chair.

“Kid was all smirks when he and the little liar approached us after we left the store,” grumbles Jason. "Had fuckin' ice cream and everything." He spins the almost empty bottle of alcohol coke on the table. “Of course, they made us wait, because after we left and booked it to the car, Dickie realizes his keys are gone too. So there we are standin' in the parking lot, Timmy doesn't have his shoes, and all we got between us is one nerf gun, no phones, no keys, and no fucks left to give.” Bruce, too tired from the absolute rollercoaster of emotions and information his children just sent him on, can do nothing but muster up a stern and disappointed glare. He trained them all better than to let a civilian pull one over on not just one of them, but all of them.

“Yeah, yeah, I know situational awareness. We’ll work on-” Dick breaks off his sentence, and sighs softly. A small soft smile overtakes his face, and he raises a single finger to his mouth. He nods in Tim’s direction.

Tim’s head, previously cradled in his arms, now lolls to the side. Neon blue light from his laptop highlighted his closed eyes, and the purplish bags underneath.

“Finally,” Jason mutters. “I swear he has the survival instincts of a wet paper bag. He’s been up for way too long.”

Bruce is just grateful he won't need to physically drag Tim off to bed and force him to get some desperately needed sleep. “Now we just need to get him to his room.” He would have done it himself if his ribs didn’t spasm the second he thought of the idea.

“Not it,” Dick whispers so quickly it’s practically a rush of air.

“Not it,” says Jason, barely a millisecond behind.

“Ha!” Dick impishly grins. “You do it.”

“But-”

“Nope, I said it first. You got to carry him.”

Jason turns his head towards Bruce, big bluish-green eyes looking for support.

Bruce doesn’t get himself involved in the decision-making games his children play. “He said it first.”

Jason’s hopeful glance turns into a disgruntled snarl. “I hate both of you,” he spits.

“Love ya too, Jay.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, wrinkling his nose. Jason pushes back his chair, and although he’s annoyed, the solid wood chair doesn’t scrape against the floor, so he can’t be too mad. Despite drinking his entire liter of mystery-alcohol-diet-coke mixture, his footsteps pace steady and strong. “Come here, ya little coffee-addicted gremlin.” Jason slips his arms around Tim’s body. It’s a testament to how exhausted his son must be, that Tim only flutters his eyes and protests incoherently at being lifted out of his chair.

“Quiet down, Replacement,” Jason murmurs, his voice soft as he speaks to his sleep-deprived brother. “All your calls and research will be there when you return from the land of nod.”

“But…”

“You can go willingly, or I can grab sedatives from the med bay and forcefully put your ass to sleep. I’ll put a bet on who’ll win that brawl.” Jason stands a good six inches taller than Tim, who looks like little more than a bedraggled rag doll in his older brother’s arms. Bruce knew who would win that fight too. Tim sighs and relaxes another inch into Jason’s arms. “There ya go. You can go back to bein’ insufferable once you’ve had some fucking sleep.”

“Hmm…” Tim's eyes fully flutter shut. Jason shakes his head and rolls his eyes, but softly traverses the room so as to not jostle him. Looking back over his shoulder one last time to shoot an I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this look at Bruce and Dick, before walking out of the room.

Silence overtakes the grand dining room as the last of Jason’s footsteps fades into the echoing halls of Wayne Manor. A light rain drizzles outside, the faintest patter hitting the tall arched windows letting in a soft grey light.

Dicks groans, pulling himself out of his slouch gracefully and into more of a respectable position. “I’m getting too old for that.”

“If you’re old, I must be ancient,” Bruce responds. He’s not, really. Only forty-seven to Dick’s thirty-two. What he’d been thinking taking in a ten-year-old at twenty-five, he couldn’t really quite say. The only thing that mattered at the time was the aching echo of loneliness reflected in the eyes of a child who had just lost their parents.

Now, look at them, all these years later.

“Nah, you’re not ancient, B. We’ve just been through enough shit in our lives to age a person twenty times over.”

Bruce gives him a look of high disappointment. “Stunts like this do not help, Richard.”

Dick has the decency to look properly ashamed. “I really didn’t mean for the situation to get so out of hand,” Dick insists in a soft, quiet tone. Bruce doesn’t quite believe it. His sons thrive off of chaos. Even if they didn’t mean for things to get out of hand, they tended to actively encourage it once in the middle of the undertow. “I know, I know, but how was I supposed to anticipate Damian teaming up with a… witch? Magician? Whatever she is.” Dick mutters the last sentence, but Bruce hears it clearly.

His sons certainly think the young woman is dangerous. Tim is thoroughly confused and stressed by her existence, although deciphering his third son’s emotions through his fog of exhaustion is a vexing endeavor Bruce still isn’t sure he accomplishes all the time. Jason clearly hates her or at least is holding a very large, very deep grudge against her. He wonders what exactly the content of the conversation was when she threatened Tim and Damian. He wonders if she knew the effect it would have on Jason.

Flickering light from the chandelier above pierces his eyes like a particularly vicious game of stab-the-vigilante, but this conversation is important, so, despite the full body ache accompanying his you’ve-pushed-too-far-and-now-you’ll-suffer-the-consequences migraine, he pushes through to ask, “What do we actually know about her?”

Dick sighs heavily, rubbing a hand across his face, and suddenly he looks every inch of his thirty-two years. “To be honest? Only a little. Tim wasn’t the only one to look her up. I did my searching too.”

“And?”

“Practically nothing. Basic info, but school records sealed tighter than Fort Knox, and firewalls grow tighter every time I try to hack ‘em. School activities, online media presence, and even pictures; all of it is whisps in the wind. Every time I try to look deeper, something...” Dick shudders as if shaking away a bad feeling. “I come up short and I can’t find a reason why. Even trying to think about Paris as a whole feels off and I can’t put my finger on it.”

“I can see if there’s anything in the League’s database about the city the past few years. It was Diana’s home base for decades until…” Bruce trails off, his mind an unexpected blank. Diana moved to the US from Paris eventually. Sometime within the last decade, but he can’t quite remember why. Surely, she must have told him at some point.

“She’s a fashion designer, I know that much. She has a website but it’s very bare bones. Commission work only. And her current course of study at Gotham U is Fashion and Business Management. But-” Dick’s hands flail into the air. “She’s from Paris! What on earth possessed her from moving from one of the fashion capitals of the world to here, to study fashion is beyond me.”

“Hmmm…” Bruce’s brain whirls at a million miles a minute. Connections forming and rearranging on his mind’s case board. The incongruency is so stark, there must be a reason. They haven’t found it yet.

“As for her magic…” Dick shrugs. “She said her powers mostly affected situational outcomes, and from the incidents I saw, she told the truth. But I’ve never seen magic like that before. Magic that just… happens. She didn’t say words, she didn’t make hand gestures. She used tiny little - I want to call them mechanized balls, but we never came close enough to tell – to kickstart the magic.”

“A techno-mage then?”

Dick contemplates the idea for a moment before saying, “Could be. But it felt more than that. As soon as she became involved the whole day felt… left of normal. Which I suppose aligns with situational outcome manipulation. The day certainly went their way…” Dick shrugs. “I just don’t know.”

Bruce hums, finally asking the question that had swirled in his mind since the girl was brought up. “Do you think she’s a danger?”

Dick leans back in the chair, his face an avalanche of flickering emotions. Wind lightly howled outside the dining hall filling the intervening silence. Finally, he sighs and says, “No, I don’t think so. She was chaotic sure but genuinely enjoyed the game for what it was. Damian probably encouraged the more unhinged ideas. And yes, she has magic, but so do a ton of other, far more obviously dangerous people. Our system is tricked out for all types of magic users, and even if she can bypass them due to her own unique magic, we’d at least receive a warning. And as for our identities…” Dick half-smiles. “She didn’t even know we were the ‘Waynes’ until we were just about to leave, and she didn’t appear particularly star-struck. I doubt she’d make the jump from chaotic billionaire’s kids to vigilantes.”

“As for Damian…?” Bruce hardly knows what to make of his youngest’s out-of-character reaction and hopes to receive some cohesive read on the situation from his eldest.

Dick, being quite unhelpful, shrugs. “I think you should talk to him. Get his side of the story. Things may have been chaotic on our end, but he did genuinely have fun. And, yes, he’s acting out of the norm.” Dick pauses. “Way, way, out of the norm for him, but I don’t think he’s enchanted. I think he just has a crush.”

Bruce blinks. Isn’t that a hell of a thought?

Damian.

With a crush.

He doesn’t have the bandwidth to deal with these kinds of realities. Reflexively he massages his temple with the tips of his fingers trying to relieve the paining, aching pressure.

“Headache again?” asks Dick with sympathy. After twenty years his son knows his tells well, and Bruce has always had headaches, although his reasons for having them have certainly increased over the years.

“Yeah, is what it is though. We’ll keep an eye on Damian, have you run him through the influence-affected protocols?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Dick shrugs. “Nothing, it’s mostly why I think he’s fine. She may be a danger, or powerful, but I don’t think she’s doing anything to Damian. Besides making him run up the data plan on his phone. He really hasn’t stopped texting the past two days.”

They’ve spent plenty of time talking about Damian, but Bruce hasn’t seen a glimpse of him since he woke up this morning. “Where is he?”

Dick pulls out his phone. “On a date, according to Stephanie.” Pulling up a photo that’s taken in a long-distance setting. Damian is pictured, seated at a cafe table, drinking out of a white coffee cup. Across from him sits a girl, Asiatic features, black hair, clad in a colorful sundress. They’re both smiling at each other.

It’s normal and adorable. And slightly worrying. Damian doesn’t smile like that unless looking at a fluffy four-legged creature.

“Stephanie trailed him?”

Dick flips the phone away. “Actually, she and Cass both followed him when he left this afternoon. Not sure what they planned, but they’ve sent some nice pictures.” He pauses for a moment and smiles fondly. “If she’s not a danger, or a League plant, this could be really good for him.”

Bruce hums, unsure, and hating himself for that unsurety. He’ll make a call when he has more information, and less of a migraine. “Go wash up and grab some sleep. I’m out until my ribs heal, so I’ll need you to take point on patrol.”

Rising from his chair, Dick stretches and shoots him a grin. “It took you twenty-five years, but damn, you’ve finally learned to call it quits when you need a break. Proud of you B.”

Bruce doesn’t bother to disguise his roll of the eyes. Dick would know he did it regardless. “Get on.”

Dick shoots him a lazy salute. “Sir, yes, sir.” He ambles to the door, and Bruce calls out again before he’s gone.

“And next time, Dick, please try to keep the antics out of the paper, and off the internet.”

The shit-eating grin betrays Dick’s real thoughts when he says, “Of course Bruce, won’t happen again.”

Liar.

Bruce shakes his head in reluctant bemusement – should he honestly have expected anything else – and Dick ducks out of the door without another word. Finally, the dining room is quiet, except for the pitter-patter of rain on the window panes, and the soft hum of Tim’s computer.

Carefully, Bruce rises from the chair, his side twinging, head throbbing in what is now a full-on migraine.

He should have stayed in bed.

Ah, well, he’s suffered worse, and now he has a good idea of what happened with his sons that caused a headache so insistent he felt it halfway across the galaxy.

Gently closing Tim’s laptop, he doesn’t bother to touch the articles and paper, knowing his son’s organizational system may appear a mess to outsiders – even him on occasion – but that it has meaning for him. He observes the rest of the room; collecting Tim’s coffee mugs, and Jason’s empty plate and coke bottle – no need to have Alfred do it if he was right here – and ambles slowly to the kitchen taking care not to drop the dishes or disturb his ribs.

Placing the dishes away, Bruce leans heavily on the counter. Mind whirling, analyzing, and connecting the information as he has always done, however, it battles for dominance over the present, persistent, migraine. His body screams for more rest, and as much as he wishes to dig to the bottom of these problems right now, he trusts Dick has given him an accurate read of the situation. Later he can pry information from the girls, maybe they’ll have a less biased view of Damian’s… friend than his sons do.

He flicks the lights off in the kitchen, for now though, he’s heading back to sleep.

-line break-

A nap, a full meal, and hours later, the pitch black of the night concealed a heavier storm than the light drizzle which draped over the manor earlier in the day. Bruce, knowing damn well he wasn’t fit for patrol, sat in his office, a bottle of forty-year whisky perched next to a crystalline tumbler and a box of chocolates. A minor indulgence, especially as he should stay far away from alcohol at the moment. But if he hadn’t died from insane nutcases, aliens, or his children’s antics, mixing medicine and alcohol probably wouldn’t kill him.

Bruce snapshots a picture of the newspaper Alfred gave him this morning.

The front-page cover contains enough of the story to showcase the significant amount of drama his children had caused.

He texts the images to both Diana and Clark.

All he adds is, ‘I always know, and I’m always right.’

He pours another finger of the amber liquid into his glass and swirls it around as the computer turns on. Just because he wasn’t out and about, didn’t mean he intended to take the night off. Bruce stretches his fingers and opens up a blank case file template.

Time to find out who exactly is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

#maribat #damian x marinette #maridami #mlb crossover #daminette #damimari #marinette dupain cheng x damian wayne #ml x dc #marinette dupain-cheng x damian wayne #damientte #damianette #mlb x dc #the ikea verse #ikea verse #headache classification system #the great ikea game

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