#sidekick writes stuff

[thatonecrazysidekick]

Local princess bullies brother into attending party, more at five

[menolly5600]

Dick Grayson, Ghost Superhero

👻🦇👻

I just found out and needed to share, that the Injustice version of Dick Grayson died and became a ghost superhero. He took up the Deadman mantle. He has flight, invisibility, intangibility and possession as his powers.

So all the basic Danny Phantom ghost powers.

The Injustice dimension had the Batfamily develop almost identically to the mainline dimension before the Joker broke Superman by killing Lois and his unborn child.

So, you know, it's DC canon there's a nearly mainline ghost Nightwing-Deadman out there being a ghost hero in another dimension.

And the Infinite Realms connect to other dimensions and timelines.

DC is out here writing DP x DC fanfiction for us and not realizing it.

And since this is one of the many alternate versions of Dick Grayson, you can have a fic with him and living Nightwing (and Danny Phantom in the mix) at the same time!

This stuff writes itself!

Tumblr, do your thing. ❤️

[moonsbijou]

i was reborn as the disposable black girlfriend of the male lead but i am taking control of the narrative now

[faytelumos]

Holed Up

I think I had planned on writing more of this, but by now, I have no idea what was next.

@mr-orion, @rfallfish, @tildeathiwillwrite, @thelazywitchphotographer

cw: blood mentions, death mention

---

The door banged loudly, bursting the long-sleeping silence in the house. A second crash, just as loud but somehow more violent, sent the front door flying open. Dust swirled as an umbrella rack clattered to the tiled entryway floor, and Sidekick stumbled in, tripping over the lip of the door and the umbrellas and the rack before falling to their hands and knees. Villain was already on alert, their eyes and hands glowing brightly as if they were molten. Sidekick coughed and clamored to their feet, the awful sound of metal on tile bouncing into the otherwise dark and silent house.

"Are you okay?" Villain uttered, their mouth throwing off yet more hot, yellowed light. But they were already cooling, the darkness swallowing the pair up again. The house smelled old, dusty, and faintly of mildew.

"Oh, don't worry about little ol' me," Sidekick grunted, staggering to their feet. They toed the remains of their impromptu escape room to the side of the foyer as Villain stepped around them and deeper inside. They closed the door as Villain lifted a hand, illuminating the main hallway with their renewed glow. "This place has power," Sidekick said, straightening their clothes. "I can feel it in some of the walls."

"We shouldn't use any lights," Villain said distractedly. The house was cluttered, some boxes and stacks of magazines lining the corners of the hallway floors, making the path narrower. Sidekick caught up to Villain and stuck close to them.

Villain cleared the house in a slightly chaotic pattern. There was no-one here, and there hadn't been for at least a year or two. Once they were sure they were alone, Sidekick went about rummaging in the kitchen while Villain scavenged for tolerable blankets. Most of them smelled too strongly of dust to use. But they found a couple deep in a linen closet that was less crowded with spiderwebs.

Villain brought their findings into the living room. Behind the couch, boxes and bins and books were piled up to waist height, blocking the rear part of the room off and making a safe place to turn their back on. Yet more was piled up onto the couch, and for all of the dust on it, it still looked too unstable to move. So Sidekick had taken the cans and the opener they'd recovered and sat cross-legged on the floor. Villain held two of the blankets between their knees and began unfolding the third to lay on the ground. "Smart," Sidekick said, gathering the cans and standing.

Once the two of them were sitting on the relatively clean blanket, their backs to the couch, a can of beef stew simmering between Villain's faintly glowing palms, everything finally seemed to slow down. It had been almost ten hours since they'd started running. And they knew there was going to be a lot more running ahead of them.

They glanced over at Sidekick. The room was painfully dark without Villain's glow, but street light through broken blinds fell across Sidekick's face. It was almost purplish blue, and it swept downward over their brow, their eyes, and their nose. Across their cheek, down to their lips, over their jaw, to their throat. Sidekick ate efficiently, their eyes darting down to the warmed can in their hands as they spooned up its contents, then back up to the window or hallway, out toward the street as they ate and chewed and swallowed. It all made them look half-feral, the light glimmering off of their sharp, focused gaze, the dark raking its fingers over their cheek and chin. It made them look like a hunter.

Then those sharp eyes snapped to Villain, and a shiver went down their back.

"Eat up," Sidekick said, looking back outside. Their eyes were somehow gleaming despite the impossibly long day they'd both had. "You're going to need your strength."

They looked like Hero right now. Not physically — Hero's hair was angelically fair, and their face was thin, their frame lithe — but… energetically. Sidekick had the same look of unstoppable drive on their face that… that Hero had.

Even now, Villain couldn't scrub the sight from their mind's eye. Hero, blood dripping from the corner of their mouth, the shadow looming over them in the filtered sunlight, looking over their shoulder at Villain —

"Run!"

"Vill."

Villain flinched. They blinked against the darkness in the house. Their ears strained against the silence. Sidekick had stopped moving, just staring at Villain with those intense, focused eyes. Vill. Hero had called them that.

"Talk to me," Sidekick uttered through the dark. The light on their face was almost bright, but it wasn't sunlight. "What's going through your head?"

"What do you think?" Villain breathed. They'd meant to sound angry. To sound cold. But now that they'd stopped moving, the horror was all catching up with them.

"I don't know," Sidekick said. Stubborn. "You tell me."

Villain scowled. They glowered, they sneered. But the heat didn't come, and when they opened their mouth to insult Sidekick, they choked on a sudden lump.

Hero, bathed in afternoon sunlight coming in from the high, high windows, red soaking their white costume, their green eyes going dark.

Villain heard themselves breathing hard as they squeezed the can in their hands. The dark only invited the mental images in all the brighter, like a dimmed movie theater.

Hero's body sliding to the floor, collapsing like a ragdoll before the dark, monstrous creature as it lifted its blood-soaked hand.

Villain flinched, the can and fork clattering sharply, when Sidekick put a hand on their shoulder. "Breathe," Sidekick whispered. "Focus on just breathing."

They were shaking, their breaths coming fast and ragged. Sidekick was up on their knees, and they put both hands on Villain's shoulders. Their touch was heavy, but they didn't hold Villain down or trap them.

"Match me, Vill, match me," Sidekick said, and then they started taking deep, loud breaths. Villain nodded, struggling to breathe along. Sidekick was breathing deep, and slower than Villain was, and it was all Villain could do to match them. Sidekick nodded, breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth, and Villain did what they did. In… out… in… out…. They finally caught down to Sidekick, and they looked up into those half-feral eyes in the dark, sharing their breaths. In… out…. "Better," Sidekick whispered. They sounded perfectly calm. Villain looked down at their half-empty can. Sidekick had eaten almost two. But Villain wasn't even going to be able to finish their first.

"How are you so calm?" Villain whispered. The silence in the house was thick. They didn't want to make it angry.

"I'm trained for this," Sidekick said simply. Then they paused. "My job… is to take care of the person in charge."

Villain shuddered. Sidekick took another set of deep, slow, loud breaths. Villain followed along.

"You're allowed to be in charge," Villain whispered. Sidekick huffed.

"I wouldn't know what to do."

Sidekick sat against Villain's side, their body close, warm, and heavy. Villain kept controlling their breathing. They tried not to get lost in their thoughts. But it was dark, and quiet, and Hero's blood had been lurid across their pale skin —

"How has your wine and painting class been going?"

Villain blinked. They turned and looked at Sidekick's face, the sharply drawn light splashing over their features. They were at the bottom of their second can.

"How…" Villain breathed. Sidekick shrugged, their spoon scraping and scratching loudly as they searched for the last of the food.

"It's Hero's business to know your business," they said. "And it's my business to know Hero's business." Villain watched them as they stuck the old spoon in their mouth and sucked it clean. They had moved closer, so the light coming in from the street had shifted now to curve over their large chest and busy hands. Villain looked back down to their own can.

"It, uh…." Villain frowned. Did this mean that Sidekick had studied Villain? In the back of their head, Villain knew Hero had dug into their life. Hero always seemed to know when Villain was having a bad day, or when they were going to be violent, even before the two of them got to the fighting. Before they sat down at the cafe. Before….

"Get out of here!"

Villain swallowed thickly.

"It's been, uh, good." They narrowed their eyes. What was the last thing they did in their night class? "We painted… an arctic lake." They nodded, looking down at the can in their hands through the darkness. "We weren't allowed to use white paint."

"But the canvasses are white, right?" Sidekick asked. Villain nodded. "I like that rule," Sidekick said, setting their can down. "Forces you to think about your goal differently. To adapt." Villain scoffed.

"It's just painting," they whispered, spooning another bite of stew up and then into their mouth.

Sidekick kept them talking for… hours, it seemed. About nothing, mostly. Everything. Asking things about their life that were just barely invasive. How their cat was doing and if their roommate would be okay watching them. If they were planning on selling any of the paintings they made. If the new used car search was going well.

Villain talked, and at some point, they stopped hearing what they were saying. They were caught looking over at Sidekick where they leaned back against the dusty couch, warm and heavy against Villain. Comforting. Inquisitive and gentle and stubborn.

Like Hero.

Villain's spoon scraped against empty tin. Sidekick nodded and reached out, taking the can.

"Room for one more?" Sidekick asked, reaching for another can. Villain shook their head.

"I don't think so." They had no appetite. They were surprised they finished that one at all; they hadn't even realized they were still eating. Sidekick nodded and set the food back down.

"You should try to get some rest," they said. "I'll take first watch." Villain sighed.

"I don't think I can sleep right now," they whispered. Sidekick hummed sympathetically.

"You should at least try," they said. "Rest your body, at least. I'll be here." Villain sighed and moved to lay down across the blanket, pulling the one in their lap up over their body.

They stayed close to Sidekick. Close enough to touch, to feel their heat. They shivered against the dark, stale air of the house. Sidekick moved, and Villain's eyes fluttered closed when they began carding their soft fingers through Villain's hair.

But in the dark, they couldn't avoid it. The flashes from the afternoon. When Villain had run in to get Hero, to escape, to finally take them away. And Hero, the sunlight gleaming on their hair and glittering over their suit, had looked at them in horror.

Because that thing had crawled out of the shadow behind them.

Villain flinched sharply when Sidekick's hand snagged on a tangle.

"Sorry," they whispered. "Are you tender-headed?"

"What was that thing?" Villain gasped. Sidekick stilled, but kept their warm hand on Villain's head.

"That… was Superhero," Sidekick whispered. Villain looked into the dark with wide eyes. "And by now," Sidekick uttered, slowly smoothing their hand over Villain's hair, "they've told everyone that you killed Hero, and that I helped you escape."

[em-writes-stuff]

"you weren't meant to be there"

day 22 of @febuwhump

sidekick and hero

694 words

warnings: gunfire, shot in the leg, cursing

~

Sidekick stumbles out of the building, hands held against her ears. The gunfire in the building is drowned out by ringing in her ears and she leans heavily against a wall. She pants, trying to catch her breath. Shakily, she stands up straight and makes her way to her car. 

She turns the key and turns her phone on and calls Hero. 

“Hello?” he says. 

“Hey, Hero. It’s me. I need you to come pick me up, I��m out of gas.” 

“For sure!” He says. “Where are you?” 

“Turn the news on? Behind the building.” she says, looking out of the window nervously. 

“What buildi-” Hero starts to ask before cutting himself off. “What are you doing there? I told you to stay home today, Sidekick.” 

“You…knew this was going to happen?” Sidekick asks. “How could you know?” 

“That…doesn’t matter right now. I’ll explain everything when I come to get you. Just…stay put and I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t move.” he hangs up and Sidekick stares at the screen of her phone. 

She turns the phone off and sets it on the passenger seat. The gunfire still echoes from the building and she puts her hands to her ears again, hoping that it blocks the sound. She squeezes her eyes shut and pulls her legs to her chest. 

A sharp pain shoots through her leg. She grunts in pain and opens her eyes. There’s a bloody hole in her pants. 

“Shit.” she curses. 

There’s not a lot of blood, but it’s enough for Sidekick to feel faint. She takes a deep breath and holds both of her hands over the wound. Blood trickles from around her hand and she looks up at the sky, “Please hurry, Hero.” 

There’s a knock on her window and Sidekick opens the door. 

“Took you long enough.” she says, trying to mask the fear in her voice. 

Hero forces a smile and hooks his arm around her waist. “Let’s get to my car before you berate me?” 

“Careful of my leg, I was shot.” she says, hobbling alongside him. 

“You were shot?!” He says, panic leaching into his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that on the phone?” 

She opens the car door and slides onto the seat, “I hadn’t noticed yet. Just…help me out of this damn car.” 

Slowly, the pair makes their way to Hero’s car and he sets Sidekick in the passenger seat as gently as he can. She hisses in pain and pulls her leg up to her chest, putting her foot on the dashboard. 

Hero slides into his seat and looks at her, “Come on, really? On the dashboard?”

“It’ll slow the bleeding.” Sidekick snaps back. “Idiot.” 

Hero huffs and drives away, leaving the smoking building behind. 

“How did you know?” Sidekick asks, turning to look at Hero. 

He stares ahead, swerving around news trucks and police cars. Sidekick stares at him, eyes boring into his head. 

“Why were you there? You weren’t meant to be there.” Hero says after a minute. “I told you to stay away today.” 

“Right. Because I always have to listen to you.” she retorts. “How’d you know?”

“I planned it. Villain has always met with everyone who supports him on the same day, same place, same time. The plan was to listen in, nobody was supposed to get hurt.” 

“Thank goodness for those guns they brought then, huh?” she snaps. 

Hero parks the car in the driveway and gets out. He opens the passenger door and helps Sidekick out of the car. “Those were just in case. Nobody was supposed-”

“To get hurt. Yeah, yeah. You said that already.” Sidekick interrupts. “Doesn’t change the fact that dozens of people were killed today.” 

Hero helps her sit down on the couch and calls Medic into the living room. Sidekick props her leg up on the coffee table and pulls a pillow over her stomach. 

Medic flies out of his room and plants himself next to Sidekick. 

“If you’ve got this covered,” Hero says, already turning down the hallway. “I’ll be in my room.”

Medic looks at Sidekick quizzically and she shrugs. “I’ll tell you later.” 

[snaillamp]

JOD - Day 19 - Stay with Me

We had fluff on day 18, so day 19 is the complete opposite. >:)

**************************************************************

Masterlist

Day 19: “I’m not going anywhere” | Wound cleaning | Guilt | Chair |

Right-hand limped out of the forest, pulling someone behind them. Slung over their shoulder was the arm of Leader, who was barely able to walk. Right-hand  whimpered as they sank to the ground, Leader heavily dropping to the ground next to them.

Right-hand was breathing heavily as they rolled onto their back, staring up at the stars, they were still heading in the right direction. ‘We are so close to the bunker… we have to be. We have to keep going.’ they thought.

In the darkness, they looked over at Leader, who was lying still. They turned and shook them, “Leader?” waiting anxiously as they felt Leader’s chest rise and fall, barely. They felt cold. 

Right-hand pushed themself to their feet, pulling Leader’s arm back over their shoulder. Leader groaned, lifting their head slightly. “Right-hand?” “I’m right here Leader. Stay with me, we’re nearly there.” 

They adjusted their grip on Leader’s arm before continuing. Leader spoke again, their voice ragged, “What happened?” Right-hand felt gooebumps erupt over their skin, Leader sounded terrible. “I got us out of there. We’re-” Right-hand’s sentence was cut off as pain ripped through their leg. “We’re nearly there.” They panted, practically dragging their leg behind them. Leader moaned quietly, before slumping against them, sending them both staggering off course. Right-hand righted themself before grunting, pulling the arm of the unconscious Leader over their shoulder a little more, trying to carry their dead weight.

The trees sighed as they broke into the clearing, Right-hand collapsing again. They looked up at the sky, now clouded over, the light of the stars no longer a comfort to them. At least they didn’t need them to navigate anymore.

Leaning Leader against a tree, they limped out into the small clearing, uncovering the bunker door, hidden in the dirt and leaves, pulling it open. They hobbled back to Leader, picking them up under their arms and dragging them along the ground. Slowly, they managed to get them both down the bunker entrance, one agonising step at a time, before slamming the door shut behind them, plunging them into darkness.

They felt the cold, brick wall, pressing the light switch when their fingers brushed it. A dull yellow light flickered on, buzzing as Right-hand looked around. There were many bunkers scattered around the country for teams like them, secret places to remain safe until they were picked up by an evacuation team, a team that couldn’t come soon enough.

Right-hand felt the blood begin dripping down their leg again, swearing as they noticed. They lay Leader on the ground, before stumbling to a shelf and fumbling through the supplies. Finding what they needed, they bandaged their wound tightly, hoping it would be enough to keep them going. They popped out a couple of pills from a box and forced themself to swallow them, gagging at the taste of the chalky tablets.

Turning to Leader, they knelt down and checked them over. There was a large wound on their head and dried blood was all through their hair and down their face. Feeling their chest for breathing, Right-hand could tell that Leader had some badly broken ribs and their breathing was shallow as they took quiet, uneven breaths.

Right-hand grabbed more bandages, wrapping a large stab wound on Leader’s arm and a long gash on their stomach. Leader suddenly woke, hissing in pain as Right-hand brushed their hand against the raw skin accidentally. They let out a cry, scraping their fingernails along the concrete floor as Right-hand quickly tried to wrap the rest of the bandage. “Leader, I gotta fix you up, then we can sort your pain out.” Securing the bandage, Right-hand managed to lift Leader from the floor and move them to a small, low camping stretcher. They were both soaked in blood, not all their own, as Right-hand lowered Leader onto it.

Leader gripped their stomach, fighting back tears in their eyes as waves of pain and nausea washed over them.

Right-hand grabbed a wound cleaning kit and sat by their side, before leaning back and resting their head beside Leader’s shaking shoulders. Opening the kit they swore, trust the people who kept these stocked to cheap out and buy shit antiseptic. They pulled up their sleeves, giving their own wounds a clean until Leader’s shaking subsided. The antiseptic burned as they winced through clenched teeth.

When Leader’s breath became calmer, Right-hand began to clean their wounds. This caused Leader’s body to spasm and they bit back scream as Right-hand cleaned a particularly deep wound. Their eyes grew slightly distant as they gasped in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Stay with me.” Right-hand was concentrating on causing the least amount of pain as their leader writhed in the stretcher.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Leader grunted through gritted teeth, trying to keep a scream back unsuccessfully when Right-hand dabbed a cut. Right-hand stopped as Leader’s breathing grew faster, their body drenched in sweat. Leader looked up at them, eyes unfocused, “They aren’t coming… Are they?” shaking their head Right-hand kept dabbing, “They will. They have to.” They had to right? Surely they would be found and get out of here?

Right-hand used some more antiseptic to wipe the dried blood off their bodies. The scent was overpowering, smelling like fake pine trees. Leader coughed as they accidentally breathed it in. “Don’t do that.” Right-hand smiled gently, removing the small gauze pad they were using to clean. “The fumes will make you drunk.” Leader let out a pained laugh, “Honestly, wouldn’t mind that right now. Better than this.” They shuddered in pain again.

Nausea ripped through Leader’s body, making them feel like they were on a ship in a storm. They felt the cool sensation of the antiseptic drying on their arm as Right-hand wiped a new gauze pad all over it. “I’d rather you be sober for this one.” Right-hand’s voice sounded slightly muffled. Another wave of nausea washed over Leader, making them groan as the room began to swirl around them, as a jolt of pain ripped through their body, white hot and agonising. Leader’s body arched as the pain ripped through their entire being, before their eyes rolled back and they landed heavily on the stretcher. “Leader?”Right-hand cried out, shaking them to no avail.

Right-hand felt their mind beginning to swirl too. They must have been exposed to the toxin at the facility they infiltrated. That was the whole mission, to blow up a lab that they had received intel on. It was supposed to be manufacturing a new, fast acting, painful toxin that could be used by anyone to interrogate any information out of them, without causing them too much physical harm. No physical injuries? No suspicion. Absolute agony.

Pain began to rip through Right-hand’s body too, soon enough. They were on the lying ground, writhing in pain when they heard a weak voice through the fog… “Right-hand… Stay with me.” Scared, Right-hand flailed towards the sound, “Lie down… You’re with me… I’m not going anywhere.” Right-hand’s mouth was dry, “Neither.” they found their hand being weakly squeezed by another cold, shaky one.

They lay together, sprawled on the ground, drifting in and out until a light broke through the darkness and brain fog. Muffled sounds echoed around them ad the barely conscious Right-hand felt themself being lifted up. The cold, limp hand of Leader dropped from their grip and they groaned, reaching for it again. They promised they wouldn’t leave them alone.

“It’s alright, Right-hand.” The sound of the extrication team around them began to become clear. “Leader…” They mumbled, reaching for them again. “Leader’s right here, they’re fine.” The disembodied voice comforted them. “We got here just in time. A signal went off saying that the bunker had been opened and it’s a good thing it did. You’re both quite lucky.” Right-hand couldn’t make words form in their head as they were carried to a large, black helicopter.

Leader was already being loaded in, wrapped up on a stretcher. Right-hand realised they were lying on one too, as they admired the soft, warm colours of the rising sun.

Once on the chopper, their hand fell from the edge of the stretcher, brushing Leader’s, who’s eyes opened slowly. They looked at each other, too tired and in pain to move, but they weakly smiled. They would get through this together, they weren’t going anywhere.

[writingpromptsworld]

Prompt #53

By @writingpromptsworld

A forming of thoughts seethed into the hero’s head, whilst he watched the villain flirt with their sidekick. Perhaps, a feeling that he wasn't quite ready to name it yet. An emotion that he so long ago buried inside of him that was menacing to rise again. He watched as his sidekick blushed, hearing the villain's words. What words, the hero didn't want to know.

When he first arrived at the location, he didn't expect their sidekick to be with the villain. But now what? The sidekick is with the villain, what was he to make of that? Was the sidekick betraying him? He shook his head, trying to get it out of his head, even though he failed to do so miserably. He was hiding behind a building, watching the villain and the sidekick still talking about something without a care in the world. He decided to slowly move out from where he was hiding, and just face him.

The villain and the sidekick didn't notice the hero until he was literally in front of them, with a gun in his hand pointed at them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" The hero sneered. The sidekick's eyes widened, as the villain looked between them.

"Listen, it's not as it seems, okay?" The sidekick attempted to say, the hero advanced towards him, slowly. Almost like a predator.

"Oh, yeah? I knew you'd betray the company. That you'd betray me-"

"I was just-", The villain cut him off, as he too, daringly walked to the hero.

"He's here on my request." The villain murmured, his voice deep. The hero hated himself for shuddering at it. He kept his hands steady around the gun, but he didn't know if he could do it much longer, because the way the villain was watching closely while walking toward him, made him want to go weak on his knees. A beast awakening inside of him, wanting more. His breath halted, when the villain took the gun out of his hand, tossing it aside, carelessly. "You're not as mighty as you think, hero."

The sidekick stood where he was, stunned.

The villain's scent was so strong, the hero had to move his face away. The other continued, "You know, your sidekick is too loyal to you, he deserves more appreciation rather than your doubt. He'd never betray you, from what I've learned over the past few years fighting you both."

"You don't know him." The hero willed himself to say.

"Well, clearly, you don't either." The villain threw back, arching an eyebrow at the hero.

"It doesn't matter. He-,"

"Look, he came on my request to the superhero. You can ask him, to confirm it. Now, be a good boy and apologize to the sidekick, yeah?" The hero stubbornly glanced away, silent. If someone needed to apologize, it was the sidekick, not him. He should've told the hero about this beforehand, shouldn't he? He scoffed, shuffling his feet to the sidekick.

"You don't have to. It was kind of my fault, too. Should've informed you about this." The sidekick muttered, a little sheepishly. The hero exhaled.

"I'm sorry, still. Sorry for doubting you." The hero said, the sidekick smiled a little and ruffled his hair. The hero bit his lip, shy all of a sudden. The sidekick knew just the right buttons to push to make the hero all coy and whatnot. The villain stood there, smiling.

The real reason the villain had summoned the sidekick was to discuss the hero's birthday party, which the villain planned to throw at his house, but the hero didn't need to know that. At least, not before his birthday.

[jitteryjive]

writing blu’s transition from an antagonist to a protagonist is genuinely so funny to me. oh they’re not an emotionally unstable terrorist anymore they just needed therapy and for ruth to reasonably listen to them

[thatonecrazysidekick]

I made another one. Dawn's character sheet led to me making more. Behold, Aurora-Legend!

(Don't worry, I have actually put a little time into the actual story outlines as well!)

[missdynamighttt]

hehehe sooo.. pro hero, husband! katsuki not being able to spend time with you took a toll on his agency, so someone said... you two needed to bone.

it had been weeks since katsuki had a proper night at home. pro hero work never let up but lately, it felt like it was eating him—late nights at the agency, barely any sleep, reports, patrols, meetings.

you understood. it was his job, his responsibility, but his stress showed in the way he snapped at people more often, his fuse shorter than usual.

and today? he was especially pissed.

the whole office refused to confront dynamight about it, until some dumbass sidekick, probably sick of his rage-fueled outbursts, muttered under his breath, “tch. man just needs to go home and bone his wife.”

the room went silent.

dead silent.

katsuki stopped mid-step, shoulders going rigid. his head turned slowly toward him, eyes burning like he was about to set the entire building on fire.

"the fuck did you just say?"

the sidekick, to his credit, had the audacity to look innocent. "i mean, you’re obviously tense, and i'm sure she’s—"

he lunged at him. it took three other sidekicks to hold him back as he damn near flipped his desk over.

“YOU'RE FUCKIN' DEAD! BONE?!” katsuki roared, struggling against his coworkers like a wild animal. "say that shit again, i dare you! you think i’m pissed ‘cause i ain’t fucking my wife enough?!”

the whole agency floor collectively held its breath.

the poor sidekick scrambled for an excuse. “n-no! i-i just meant—uh, stress relief! yeah! y’know, intimacy is good for—”

katsuki grabbed a random clipboard and hurled it across him. he missed by a centimeter. “you think i don’t wanna fuckin' go home to her?! huh?!”

“sir—”

“i wanna go home so bad! i wanna see her, i wanna kiss her, i wanna lay on her tits and sleep for the whole fuckin’ day,” he ranted, voice cracking from pure frustration. “BUT NOOO! i’m stuck here writing reports and dealing with dumbasses like you!”

the office was dead silent.

it took a solid ten minutes for him to cool down, grumbling and seething as he rubbed his temples.

but his mind did wander.

to you. to the way he missed your voice. to how fucking long it had been since he held you properly.

to the way he always found you asleep by the time he got home, curled up on his side of the bed, waiting for him.

… fuck. maybe the sidekick did have a point.

katsuki inhaled sharply. then, with wild determination, he grabbed his his stuff, and stormed toward the exit. the agency could handle itself for the night. he had better things to do.

“fuck this. i'm goin' home to my wife."

meanwhile, you had barely settled on the couch, ready to enjoy a quiet evening alone, when the front door slammed open. you jolted, turning toward the entrance just in time to see katsuki storming in—looking like a man on a mission.

“katsu—” you barely got his name out before his mouth crashed onto yours, hot and urgent, like he’d been starving for this. you gripped his shirt as he pulled you impossibly close, practically lifting you off the floor.

you gasped against his lips as his hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head as he deepened the kiss, pressing his body against yours.

strong hands cupped your face, rough but desperate. his lips were everywhere—your cheeks, your nose, your jaw, the corner of your lips—like he was making up for lost time.

and when he finally let you breathe, his forehead pressed against yours, panting slightly, his hands still gripping your waist like he was afraid you’d disappear.

you were breathless, blinking up at him in shock. “what the hell?”

katsuki exhaled sharply, his forehead resting against yours. “i missed you.”

your brows furrowed. “you left for work this morning.”

“exactly,” his lips brushed against yours again, softer this time. “should’ve come home sooner.”

it was then you realized—he was home way earlier than usual. normally, he'd get caught up in work, buried in reports or dealing with patrols, but tonight…

“wait, why are you home so early?” you asked, still dazed.

katsuki huffed. his fingers slid down to your waist, gripping you tightly. “tch. dumbass sidekick at work said i just needed to fuck my wife to fix my attitude.”

your jaw dropped. “excuse me?”

his lips brushed yours again, softer this time. “so i left early to prove ‘em right.”

your face burned. “katsuki!”

but he was already leaning in again, smirking against your lips. “better get comfortable, sweets. i’m makin’ up for lost time.”

and when katsuki stepped into the office that morning, something was… off.

for the first time in weeks, he didn’t stomp in with a permanent scowl, barking at everyone the second he crossed the threshold. his usual sharp glare was dulled, his shoulders weren’t tense as tense.

instead, katsuki looked, dare they say it—relaxed. his jaw wasn’t clenched, his brows weren’t furrowed, and the usual aggressive boom of his steps was noticeably tamer.

hell, the man even had a post-nut glow so obvious. skin clear, posture loose, and zero unnecessary shouting.

no explosions. no immediate death threats. no one getting yelled at for breathing too loud.

everyone noticed.

by the time he made it to his desk, his coworkers were already exchanging looks, whispering amongst themselves like they’d just seen a miracle.

"uh…" one of his sidekicks was the first to cautiously approach. “sir. you good?”

katsuki just grunted, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck. “feelin’ great, actually.”

and that’s when it clicked. a murmur spread through the office as realization slammed into them.

“you boned last night,” he stated, like it was the discovery of the century.

katsuki just smirked, grabbing some files off his desk. “what’s it to ya?”

the room erupted.

“holy shit, i forgot he could be normal—”

“i haven’t known peace in months.”

“oh my god, mrs bakugo katsuki, if you can hear this—thank you for your service!”

someone started clapping.

then, the entire office cheered.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ i think y'all know where this is inspired from but js in case, its from a sitcom named brooklyn 99 where this girl tells her boss he needs to bone his husband lmao😭 hope yall enjoyed!!

[jon-mcbrine-author]

Hey, how cool is this? My novella “The Supervillain’s Oath” is in the top 50 on Amazon Teen & Young Adult Sci-Fi Mystery eBooks

[etoiline]

WIP Folder Game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

I was tagged by my Senior Star @iwishtocountthestars and I feel like I might actually have enough WIPs now that are being actively worked on so.

Jedi Fallen Order/Survivor spyscrapper fic:

Anniversary calkestisweek Drunk on the past Haunted Tanalorr Inquisitor Cal Tanalorr II The Possessioning wingfic

Horizon Forbidden West Kotaloy:

Paint

Survivor/HFW:

Spotallo

I guess I can make this weird by letting you pick a number from 1-20 and I'll give you the title and a snip (if it exists, because a bunch of the manuscripts are locked up on a drive I can't access) from the NaNoWriMo novel of that year. I'm not actually working on any of those atm since fanfic has taken over my creativity, but I'm definitely maybe going to finish some of them someday...

Not gonna be that person who tags folks who were already tagged, so if you see this, feel free to send an ask and give a nerd some social interaction ;)

[faydingrain]

I know I'm working on so many goddamn things but! I've been thinking about Steam Train and it's gonna get a bit of an overhaul~ ✨

[solelifauna]

So this NOT to imply the writing is bad

But so far the Batfam fic as me genuinely shaking in anger , the fact that dick is convinced that y/n as to prove herself to be "worthy" genuinely got to me to the point I need a pallete cleanser

Could we please get a small drabble of reader growing close with one of the "outside" batfam members?

Like maybe Kate(batwoman) and Luke (batwing) because they are under used

Or hell, maybe to really grind the family gears, reader gets close to azrael

(you know Bruce would've able to do shit if reader got close with Kate, she would fucking eat him alive)

Hey, You're all good bro! I also just want to put out that my fic is based on an au! The portrayals of any characters in my fic are based off of their canon and fanon counterparts, just with my own twist. Since this is a darker universe/au, the Bats along with other heroes are going to be a lot more brutal and jaded.

Also love your idea bro. But, I'll do you one better. Constantine. Bruce absolutely can't stand him and the reader being friends with/getting along with him? Oh, that's bound to grind Bruce's gears. It would also be easier to meet Constantine too.

Let's just say one day the reader gets caught up in some Justice League Dark stuff that Constantine is trying to solve. She gets kidnapped by a cult that wants to use her as a sacrifice. I mean, she is a pretty huge target, being the daughter of a Billionaire after all. Anyways, shes kidnapped, nobody is coming to get her, not from her family at least. Long story short, Constantine arrives too late to stop the ritual, but things don't go according to plan for the cultists anyway. Turns out that the person sacrificed wouldn't be killed, but would instead become a vessel.

Great, now you have some old, eldrich being living rent-free in your mind. The being is old, donning the title "Keeper of Hell", but you'll just call it (they? him? her?), Adam. Yeah, Adam wasn't too happy with the name. When Constantine arrives, however, hes pleasantly surprised to find you alive. When he realizes that you, a 15-year-old, now carry the presence and power of an eldritch being older than Gotham itself, he groans while lighting up a cigarette. Looks like he'd have to deal with you now.

He checks over you making sure you have no internal and external injuries before explaining your situation. He feels a little sorry for you, but he is in no condition to train you. He asks around to other JL dark members, hoping to see if anyone is willing to help you control your new powers. He sighs again when nobody steps up to the plate, too busy with their own sidekicks and quests.

Reluctantly, he tells you he'd help you figure stuff out. And there begins the blossoming of the amazing "Grumpy old man and kid they didn't ask for" troupe. When you tell Constantine your name, he blanks, because of course he gets stuck with one of the bat's kids. However, based on your tone of voice when discussing your family (and the way you begged him not to let Bruce/Batman know of your predicament), he's guessing things aren't all too great between you all. Well, thats not his problem, his only job was to train you and make sure you don't end up accidentally killing someone.

Yeah...like that thought process is going to last. Training sessions start out bleak and professional, he's only doing a job. Then as time continues, he finds himself enjoying your company, your enthusiasm to learn and your rambunctious/sarcastic comebacks always have him fighting off a smile. It's been a while since he's had company like this. Soon, you're both going out on missions, and then ice cream breaks afterward. He lets you fall asleep on his shoulder, drooling all over his trench coat after particularly difficult missions and he can't bring himself to mind.

He's fond of you, although he never admits it out loud. It's okay though, because even though he's never said it out loud, his actions speak louder than words. You could feel his love and pride for you. Although he wasn't exactly your dad per se, he was still something to you, maybe the wine uncle? You don't know, and you don't particularly care to put a label on what Constantine was to you, you're just glad that he's there.

Shit hits the fan, however, when one day you decide to go on a solo mission. It's nothing crazy, just getting rid of some poltergeists and low-level demons and shades. Now, were you given permission to go on this mission alone? No, but in a normal teenage manner, you decide to go anyway. Everything was fine, you got rid of all the poltergeists in the area and even some of the shades too! It's all going well until you realize that the demon mentioned before was not as weak as you were told. You gulped when its blood red eyes turned to you.

"Well shit." Constantine was going to kill you.

It immediately lunges at you, you barely rolling out of its sharp claws. You hit it with a couple of spells, causing the demon to roar out in pain, burn marks now littering its side. Its tail whips at you, colliding with your stomach as you fly into a wall with a loud thud. You groan as you pick yourself up, clutching your ribs, each breath a jagged pain that ripples through your chest. Your arm is slick with blood, the gashes from the demon's claws burning as if its very essence were trying to sear your flesh. You grit your teeth and weave another spell, calling on Adam’s power to knock the demon back. This time, a burst of raw energy slams into it, shattering its leg with a sickening crack.

For a brief moment, you think it's over, ready to strike the final blow. But the demon’s leg snaps back into place, bone and flesh knitting together as if the injury had never happened.

“Of course,” you mutter under your breath. “Why would this be easy?”

The demon lunges again, and you’re just a split second too slow. Burning pain flares through your right arm as its claws tear into you, ripping through your flesh like paper. You scream, the sound involuntary, but you push through the pain, refusing to go down without a fight.

Drawing back, you unleash another spell, a sharp projectile of energy aimed at its neck. The demon flinches, letting out a low growl. That reaction—panic—gives you the first glimmer of hope. Its neck. That's its weak spot.

With renewed determination, you gather every ounce of strength you have left. The cuts across your body throb, and your arm feels like it’s on fire, but you push it all aside. You can do this. You have to do this.

You unleash a volley of cutting spells, each one aimed at the demon’s throat. It fights back viciously, throwing you around the room with a strength that makes your vision blur. Every hit you take feels like your bones are splintering, but you keep going. You keep attacking.

Finally, one of your spells strikes true.

The demon lets out a gurgling screech as your spell cuts deep into its neck. Blood—thick and dark—pours from the wound, and it claws at its own throat, choking. Its body spasms violently, and then, as if collapsing in on itself, it begins to disintegrate. In a few seconds, all that’s left is dust.

You stand there, panting, barely able to process the fact that you did it. You won. A grin spreads across your face, and despite the pain radiating from every part of your body, you let out a weak cheer.

But the celebration is short-lived.

Pain cuts through you like a knife, sharp and sudden, reminding you of just how battered you are. Blood is still oozing from the various gashes across your body, and your arm feels like it’s hanging by a thread. You stumble, nearly falling, but catch yourself at the last second.

“Crap… I’m bleeding out,” you mumble, wincing. “Whoops.”

With what little energy you have left, you remember the spell Constantine taught you, the one that would tether you to him no matter where you were. He warned you not to use it unless it was an emergency—and bleeding out from demon-inflicted wounds definitely qualifies.

You lift your shaking hand and cast the spell, a sluggish flick of your wrist sending out a ripple of energy. A portal forms, shimmering and unstable, but functional enough. Without much grace, you stumble through it, disappearing from the demon’s lair.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Constantine was currently in a Justice League meeting.

The first thing you feel is a sudden drop, like the ground beneath you has vanished. You barely register the sensation of falling before you crash, hard, onto something solid. Groaning, you blink through the haze of pain and find yourself sprawled across a massive table.

You can hear voices—muffled, alarmed—but the world is spinning too much for you to focus. All you know is that you're lying on something cold and hard, and you’re absolutely drenched in blood.

Forcing your eyes open, you see several figures standing around you, staring in shock. Your vision is blurry, but you can make out Superman’s cape and Wonder Woman’s armor. You try to process what's happening, but the pain in your arm and ribs keeps pulling you under.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow. Fuckkkk." You cry out.

Suddenly, the scent of smoke fills the air. You don't even have to look to know who it is. Constantine’s familiar trench coat brushes against your arm as he crouches beside you, cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His eyes flicker with a dangerous mix of exasperation and barely concealed anger.

“What in the bloody fuck, kid?” he snaps, his tone harsher than usual, but the concern underlies his words.

You wince, the situation hitting you all at once. Crap. Now I've got to deal with this.

You muster a weak, sheepish grin, wincing as you turn your head to face him. “Heyyy Constantine, how are ya?”

His brow furrows deeper, and he’s clearly not amused. “What did you do?”

You swallow hard, trying to think of how to explain yourself without getting ripped to shreds—verbally or otherwise. “I—well, promise you won’t get mad?”

“Too late for that, kid. I’m already halfway there,” he growls, his eyes narrowing as he looks over your wounds. “Now get to it.”

You bite your lip, trying to find the least disastrous way to explain. “So… I sorta… mighta… gone on a solo demon-hunting mission,” you blurt out quickly, hoping he’d just move past it.

The way Constantine’s eyes widen, and the immediate twitch in his jaw tell you that he’s definitely not going to move past it.

“You did what?!” His voice rises as he stands up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Oh bloody— I thought I specifically told you not to go by yourself! And this is what happens!”

“Hey, well, I’m alive, aren’t I?” you say, grinning nervously, trying to play it off.

“That’s besides the point!” He throws his arms up, pacing as he takes a long drag from his cigarette. “Bloody hell, I should’ve known better with you kids. I swear, this is why I never—”

Just then, a dark, grim voice cuts through the chaos, and your heart nearly stops.

“Constantine,” Batman’s tone is low, authoritative. “Why is my daughter bleeding on our table?”

Oh no. No, no, no. Not now.

You freeze, your mind going blank as you feel the weight of Batman’s presence at the end of the table. You slowly, painfully turn your head to see him standing there, cape draped over his shoulders, his gaze icy and locked onto you. His usual stoic expression somehow looks even more intense.

“Ah… shit,” you mutter under your breath, groaning inwardly as you realize you’ve just landed yourself in the absolute worst situation imaginable. “I completely forgot he was still here.” Wait, did you say that out loud?

Constantine gives you a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, kid, you did. And now we’ve got more than just your wounds to worry about, don’t we?” He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, already anticipating the fallout.

Batman’s eyes narrow, arms crossed as he takes a step closer to you, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain yourself?”

You’re still bleeding, your head is pounding, and you’re pretty sure at least a few bones are broken, but none of that compares to the fear creeping up your spine as you look up at your father. Your mind races for an answer, but every excuse you can think of feels flimsy at best.

Constantine clears his throat, sensing the rising tension in the room. “Right. Let’s get her fixed up before this turns into an interrogation, yeah? Kid’s bleeding all over the place, and she’s already taken a beating. We’ll save the lecture for later.” He waves his hand, muttering something under his breath as he kneels beside you again.

The tension between Constantine and Batman lingers in the air, thick and heavy, but Batman finally relents. His eyes soften—slightly—as he watches Constantine work to stabilize your injuries with magic.

You can feel yourself growing weaker, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the pain becomes unbearable. Constantine mutters a healing spell, one that slows the bleeding and knits some of the less serious cuts together. It's not perfect, but it’s enough for now.

“I think it’s time to get you all fixed up, huh?” Constantine says softly, his earlier anger tempered by concern as he helps you sit up, his hand firm on your back to support you.

You nod weakly, not daring to meet Batman’s eyes again. You’re in deep trouble, but for now, at least, you’re still breathing. As Constantine gets ready to teleport you to a safer place to heal, you hear Batman’s voice, calm but steely.

“We’re not done here.”

And with that ominous promise hanging in the air, Constantine picks you up, and the world around you shifts once again.

Constantine gently carries you through the halls toward the Justice League’s med bay, muttering curses under his breath with every step. You could feel his frustration radiating off him, and now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, guilt begins to settle in your chest. The adrenaline from the battle has worn off, and now you're left with the consequences of your reckless actions.

“Hey, Constantine… I—I’m sorry for not listening to you. I really am,” you say, your voice soft and heavy with regret.

He sighs, not looking at you, but his tone is stern. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not mad at you, kid. You didn’t just ignore my warnings—you put yourself in danger. There are rules for a reason. What if you got seriously hurt and couldn’t cast a spell back to me? Even worse, what if you died or got possessed?”

His words hit you hard, and you wither under the weight of them. You know he’s right. All those rules and restrictions aren’t just him being overprotective or controlling, they’re because he cares. He’s seen the kind of darkness that can swallow people whole, and the thought of that happening to you terrifies him, even if he’ll never say it out loud.

By the time you reach the med bay, the guilt feels like it’s pressing down on you as much as the pain in your ribs. Constantine lowers you onto a cot, tucking you in with a gruff gentleness that only he could pull off. He sits down on the side of the bed, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it with a quick flick of his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What I’m trying to say, kid,” he starts, exhaling a cloud of smoke, “is that I care. I care about you, I care about what happens to you. I don’t want—” He pauses, his voice softening. “I don’t want to ever have to find your body one day. So please, from now on, let me know before you do something stupid like this.”

His words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered. You nod, trying to process it all, and then something clicks in your mind. Wait… did he just say let him know?

“Let you know? Does this mean—” Your eyes widen as realization hits you. “Does this mean I can go on solo missions?”

Constantine lets out a resigned sigh. “Yes, yes, you can start going on solo missions—”

“Hell yeah!” you exclaim, sitting up a little too quickly. Pain shoots through your ribs, but you can’t help the excitement bubbling inside you.

“—but, only the ones I sanction and authorize,” Constantine finishes, cutting through your excitement with a stern look. You deflate a little at his words, but it’s still a victory in your book.

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain it causes in your ribs. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise I won’t let you down!”

He chuckles, patting your back awkwardly before pulling away. “Yeah, yeah, I know you won’t. Now, lay back down and get some rest. You still have dark and brooding to deal with.” He gestures toward the direction of the meeting room, clearly dreading the inevitable confrontation with Batman. “And by extension, I do too,” he adds with a heavy sigh.

You groan, sinking back into the cot, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. “I don’t know why he even cares. If he did, he would’ve figured this out ages ago.”

Constantine glances at you, his expression softening for a moment. He takes a long drag of his cigarette before speaking. “He cares, kid. He just… doesn’t always show it the way you want him to. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel it.”

You scoff, though part of you knows he’s right. “Yeah, well, doesn’t feel like it.”

Constantine stands, taking one last drag of his cigarette before flicking it into a nearby ashtray. “Doesn’t matter how it feels right now. The Bat’s going to want answers, and if I know him, he’s going to want to have a very long talk with you. You’re not out of the woods yet.”

You wince at the thought of the upcoming conversation, knowing that Batman’s interrogation will be thorough and far less forgiving than Constantine’s.

“Great,” you mutter, closing your eyes and sinking deeper into the cot. “Just what I need.”

Constantine gives you a small, almost affectionate smile before turning to leave. “Get some rest, kid. You’ve earned it. I’ll deal with the big bad Bat for now.”

And with that, he walks out, leaving you alone in the med bay. As much as you’re dreading what’s to come, you can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite the pain and the mistakes you made, you know that Constantine’s got your back. And, maybe, just maybe, Batman does too, even if it’s buried under a mountain of brooding and silence.

For now, though, you let the exhaustion pull you under, trusting that everything else can wait until tomorrow.

-

As you rest, your body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, your breathing evens out and your mind drifts into sleep. The med bay is quiet, sterile, but the tension in the air lingers, waiting for the inevitable. Eventually, a dark, caped figure glides into the room silently, his form casting long shadows across the walls.

Batman—no, Bruce—stands over you, his sharp eyes tracing every bruise, every cut that mars your face. His jaw clenches as a million thoughts swirl in his head, none of them offering any comfort.

What the hell happened to you? Why are you and Constantine so close? How did you even know Constantine? How much had he missed—how little attention had he been paying—to not notice any of this?

Bruce sighs, a deep and frustrated sound. He removes his cowl, setting it on the side table with a weary hand. Without it, he seems less intimidating, less imposing. He stares down at you, seeing the cuts and bruises marking your skin, but what hits him harder is the way your face, in sleep, is still so achingly young. You're his daughter, and yet it feels like you're a stranger to him now.

How did you get so far away?

He knows the answer. The fault lies with him, with the choices he made, the excuses he repeated to himself—telling himself he was too busy, telling himself he would check in later. Later never came, though, and the space between you widened, until it wasn't just him you were drifting away from, but your brothers too.

Bruce noticed the way your brothers treated you, the harsh words, the cold shoulders. He saw the distance, but he justified it, telling himself it was sibling rivalry or something that would pass. He didn't step in. And now, as he looks at you lying there, bruised and battered from a fight he wasn’t even aware of, the reality sinks in: he has no excuse.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce reaches out, his rough but careful hand carding gently through your hair. The gesture is tender, hesitant, as if he's not sure whether he has the right to touch you like this anymore. But as his fingers comb through your hair, you stir in your sleep, a quiet murmur escaping your lips as you unconsciously lean into his touch. It's such a sweet, innocent moment, and for a brief second, Bruce allows himself to feel the warmth of it.

But the moment is fleeting.

He feels the presence before he sees it, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke filling the room. His jaw tightens as his hand stills. He doesn’t turn right away, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Constantine,” Bruce says, his tone gruff even without the cowl to disguise it.

Constantine steps into the room more fully, leaning against the wall, a half-smoked cigarette between his lips. He regards Bruce with that same nonchalance he carries everywhere, though there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something more cautious.

"Thought you’d still be brooding over in the corner," Constantine says, taking a drag of his cigarette. His eyes drift to you, lying peacefully on the cot. “Didn’t expect to see this version of you.”

Bruce doesn’t respond right away. He pulls his hand back from your hair, his gaze hardening. "What happened?" The question is direct, but underneath it, Constantine can hear the concern, the frustration Bruce doesn't voice aloud.

"She went off on her own," Constantine mutters, taking another drag before blowing out a cloud of smoke. "Went after a demon. Got roughed up pretty bad, but she handled it in the end. Strong kid. Stubborn too. Wonder where she gets that from, eh?"

Bruce's eyes narrow. "And you let her?"

"Let her?" Constantine laughs, a short, sharp sound. "Mate, I didn’t let her. She went behind my back, just like she’s gone behind yours for who knows how long. Difference is, I’m the one she actually came back to.”

That lands like a punch to Bruce's gut. He doesn’t react visibly, but Constantine can see the tension in his posture.

"I didn't know she was…" Bruce starts, then stops, shaking his head. The words feel inadequate. "I didn't know she was involved with this stuff, i didn't even know she was a meta. Or that she knew you."

"Yeah, well, she found her way to me," Constantine says with a shrug, stubbing out his cigarette on the wall. “And she's not a meta by the way, she's a vessel for some eldritch being"

A vague expression of surprise appears on Bruce's face.

"I don't blame you, mate. I was surprised to find her alive afterwards. Not just anyone survives that kind of transformation, she's strong.”

Bruce crosses his arms, his gaze flickering between you and Constantine. “I know she’s strong.”

“Do you?” Constantine raises an eyebrow, the challenge clear in his tone. “Because she’s been running herself ragged trying to prove it. To you. To herself. And, hell, maybe to me too, but at least I see it.”

There’s silence for a moment. Bruce clenches his jaw, turning to look at you again, sleeping soundly despite the tension in the room. He knew Constantine was right. You'd been pushing yourself, fighting to show that you didn’t need them—that you were strong enough on your own. And he had let you. He'd let you because he didn't even care to notice.

Constantine sighs, sensing the weight of the silence. “Look, I didn’t come here to throw stones. But you’ve got to get your shit together with her. She’s tough, but she’s still a kid, and she’s your kid. She needs you.”

Bruce doesn’t answer, but his silence speaks volumes. He watches you, the soft rise and fall of your chest, and feels the regret gnawing at him.

“I’ll handle it,” Bruce finally says, though the words feel hollow.

Constantine gives him a long look, then nods. “You better. Because if you don’t, she’ll be right back with me..”

With that, Constantine pushes off the wall, flicking away the last of his cigarette. “I’ll check in on her later. Try not to fuck this up, mate.” And with one last glance at you, Constantine leaves, the tension in the room ebbing with him.

Bruce remains, standing over you, his mind a whirlwind of regret, guilt, and the desire to fix what’s been broken for far too long. He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead—something he hasn’t done in what feels like years—before stepping back, pulling the chair beside your bed to sit vigil over you.

He’s still not sure how to bridge the gap, but for now, he stays. It’s a start.

Well, thats all folks! I really enjoyed writing this au, so thanks for the idea! Maybe ill even make a pt. 2 to this? Who knows? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it.

[kissedcupid]

Cute moments when you first talked and met Damian as Jason’s sidekick. Ironically there will be another part to this im just really tired , the one that comes out later will be a bit longer I just wanted to get the stuff out. This is also an au , not a series so I won’t frequently write for this.

Damian Wayne x reader ⨾ Emails I can’t send - Sabrina Carpenter 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘴 , 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 , 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 , 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘳 , 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘸/ 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 , 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 , 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 , 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘰𝘸𝘴 , 𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘹 𝘧! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘤 , 𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘞𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦 𝘹 𝘧! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 , 𝘩𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 , 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘯

𝜗𝜚 ꒱ wc. 1.811⋮ bookshelf !

notes : dividers made by anitalenia , I bended a lot of stuff in here so at some point it may not follow a lot of the plot..

0.1 › MEETING FOR THE FIRST TIME ⋮ Being Jason’s daughter he adopted on the street was kind of awkward to say the least. He took you in when you were ten , he didn’t ever really want to adopt you in fears of causing you harm or trouble but when he did he was kind of glad. You were like a mini him , and you enjoyed being being around him almost seeming like a father figure.

❝No I’m not doing that , why would I do that❞

✶ it was going to be the absolute first time you meet Jason’s family , it was a bit rocky since all you’ve ever known was Jason. It was hard enough to trust him what makes him think you could trust them. He didn’t really care for you meeting his dad , he really he just wanted you to meet Damian. You had no friends outside of healing Jason , learning how to cook , and everything else. He wanted you to have a life , he wanted you to see another person your age ; not because he got caught by Bruce and now there’s a family dinner , nope not at all.

✶ so when he told you to get ready because you’re going to a family dinner you wanted to die. Praying that they would be on you and stick to intrusive questions.

“No I’m not doing that , why would I do that.” You paced around the room already ready just in case , Jason’s didn’t want to go either but what choice did either of you have. “You have to do it , I don’t want to either but it’ll be worth it. You get to meet one of my brother’s , Damian he’s the youngest and the same age as you.”

Rolling your eyes showing that you knew that didn’t make a difference. “Don’t roll your eyes at me half pint , I may not be able to see from here but that doesn’t I could sense it.” Scoffing you had sat down on the carpet putting your hands on your face partially forgetting about your makeup. “Fine , I give up old man.” You chuckled slightly knowing it pissed him off a bit ; as you dusted yourself you had gotten up from your position. He hit your shoulder being annoyed at you.

As you two had arrived and dinner was ready all that was left to find seats. You didn’t want to sit next to someone you didn’t know , so you sat next to Jason very closely. “I can’t do this.” You were slightly pacing in your head , “what if they ask about my life story , or where I came from—” “No we aren’t doing this , you can do this half pint , you can survive.”

He then awkwardly patted your back as a sign of comfort. As everyone was seated , to your right was who you thought of as Damian and left was Jason. As everyone started eating the dinner was almost dead silent for ten minutes until the big man spoke up. “I’m Bruce , Bruce Wayne. And I suppose you are Jason’s…” he had let his sentence trail off to let you finish. You knew you had to have some kind of confidence and you needed to find it.

“I’m his side kick , kind of like a helper off field , and my name is __.” He looked skeptical almost as if you hadn’t told the truth. Then another person people up , “So , how old are you , and how much do you know about Jason ?” He was referring to how Jason was Red Hood and how he came back and shit. “I’m seventeen , I know that you all are you know. I’ve known for a while.” You really didn’t feel like speaking now , or even acknowledging this. “So you’re the same age as me ? Do you train as well alongside him ?”

You shook your head no , “I don’t train with him I know the basics and shit but like all I really do is medical stuff such as stitching and clean wounds.” You answered the person to your right , now confirming it was Damian. You didn’t know how to feel about Damian , you answered his question as if he was someone you knew for a while , you were disgusted by your own comfort around him.

He was a bit offended at your lack of respect with his the curse word. “You’re like a mini Jason to say the least.” Now it was just a conversation between you two. “I get that a lot..” you were a bit pissed off at how you weren’t recognized for your own identity as you were ions far from Jason , kind of. As the conversation started rising a tad bit the attention drifted away from you to Jason and why he adopted you.

You were still engaging with Damian. “So you live with him ?” Nodding your head a simple yes a response. You didn’t want to eat much so you gave the rest to the big back on your left. “Yeah which reminds me .. Jay , tomorrow can we go grocery shopping?” As he had finished a very aggravated conversation he turned to you , “Sorry half pint I can’t , you can though I have to do something. And remember no brands.” He was talking to you sternly like when you were younger.

Then nodding your head and turning to an indifferent Damian. “Grocery shopping ? Why would you need to do that ?” You could tell he has common sense , but like since he was rich you couldn’t tell if he’s ever been to a grocery store. “Oh we ran out of food since this bitch here doesn’t want to share his snacks , so I have to shop .. your voice stopped do you want to come ?”

Damian had no time for silly affairs and stupid stuff , and for some reason you’re naturally opening up. You could slightly feel a glare shooting at Damian from Jason , more of a dad glare. “I have no time for matters such as these , but sure. I might as well need to know you if you’re Jason’s sidekick.” He wasn’t there to be friends yet to simply just have leverage but that didn’t end anything , right ? So tomorrow was set , you’re going to the store at seven with Damian.

0.2 › GROCERY SHOPPING ⋮

Going to the store would be fun , it was late at night so not a lot of people would be there. Getting all you need would be pretty simple and easy.

But you realized you were never going to really get everything since Jay didn’t make a list. Walking down the isles with Damian on the side as you were pushing the cart , basically just getting a bunch of things. “I can pay for it.”

Did you hear these words right? “You , pay for this ?” You almost were impulsed to buy a bunch of things after hearing that. He nodded his head a short yes.

You pulled out your phone to text jay that you would be getting more than needed and that you didn’t need his money. As you started getting a bunch of stuff Damian started directing to you the check out isle.

As you reached the end , the worker there looked at least thirty , or potentially that one dude from the dinner , Dick maybe ? But like in a mustache. “Are you two a couple maybe ?” That was a weird way to start small talk. Damian spoke up for you , “she’s not my girlfriend.”

Dick looked annoyed he was really hoping to get drama. “Soo you’re using a black card for your "not girlfriend"?” Twirling the ends of his mustache he lowkey looked like inspector gadget but like jacked. “Whats that to you ?” “It’s just interesting..” As you two had finishing checking out you then headed home.

0.3 › ICE CREAM ⋮ “You are not sitting on my side of the couch , get off.” You weren’t afraid to be aggressive because he would just give it right back. “No , why would I ?” You scoffed , tired of how you thought you could actually get a long , and maybe you were right.

Fortunately for him you just accepted fate and sat on the other side. You had eaten chocolate ice cream , it was a tradition between you and Jason yet unfortunately he wasn’t there. Damian was glad he didn’t have to fight you over it so he simply has a lifted expression , in return he was watching you eat your ice cream next to him.

“Oh do you want a bite ?” You weren’t chocolate obsessed but the days you had it were amazing. “No its—” shoving the spoon in his mouth full of ice cream you made sure to clean the spoon before you had spoon fed him. Watching him swallow , he had gave you a hard glare. But you couldn’t resist to look at how his Adam’s apple bobbed , it was interesting how it looks so.. “You want more ?” He shook his head no as you then ate a bit of ice cream cleaning the spoon before.

“I’ve been told by my father to get more people in my life who are my age.” You mentally needed to take note of that , losses and hits on your path may be caused by this and you can’t afford to go through this again. “What are you trying to imply ?” “Us being friends , or something , it’ll get my dad off my back.” You laughed just a bit more quietly , “So all I’m hearing is you want to use whatever this is to get your dad to shut up ?”

Damian looked confused as to why you would want to reinstate something pretty clear , “shorter words , what do I get out of this ?” His ears perked up as if you had yet to realize how rich he is , “I could get you a cat , or you could meet my cat.” How did he know you liked cats , or animals in general ?

“Wait , wait , actually never mind sure let’s do it. But , on one condition, we become actual friends I can’t do this fake stuff anymore. With how many friendships and relationships I’ve been through I can’t handle a fake one that leads me to believe we are friends.” Damian nodded his head , simply in a thinking matter. “Fine.”

BONUS : in the future..

© kissedcupid , all work belongs to me, if you want to translate my work please dm me and ask me before hand.

[suzukiblu]

I kinda wanna write a cryptid!Batman AU where Clark has explained to Kon that the Batman is a terrifying eldritch horror given human(-ish) form, actually, and Kon is therefore under the impression that Robin is going to be into weird shit like being brought damning evidence and deadly criminals and dangerous problems to solve and also will appreciate being occasionally stalked by a half-alien clone. The bat-cryptids stalk EVERYBODY, right? So it's fine, it's like their love language, Kon figures as he's collecting a bunch of random shiny trinkets to leave out for Robin like he thinks he's a fucking magpie or a crow or something, and maybe also some nice pebbles to cover the penguin angle just in case. Just, like, stuff he might like to decorate the cryptid-nest Kon is assuming he has with.

Kon is fully correct about Robin appreciating the weird shit and shiny trinkets and being reciprocally stalked, actually, although now TIM has to figure out how to explain to Superboy that he is actually just a normal human teenager who just decided that his local protection spirit needed an emotional support sidekick before it could get corrupted into a local VENGEANCE spirit. Though he does like the shinies, please don't assume this means he doesn't like the shinies or wants a normal relationship with, god forbid, boundaries about not stalking each other or whatever.