Unpleasant Revelations - DPxDC Ficlet Idea for the Stillborn Au
"Have you met my youngest, Damian, Mr. Masters?"
Its only from twenty years of long, hard experience and practice that Vlad doesn't increase the room temperature from 'borderline uncomfortably cool' to 'unbearably hot' the moment Bruce Wayne pulls his youngest and "only" biological son out in front of him.
He puts only in quotations because twelve year old Damian Wayne looks scarily, uncannily like one Daniel Brown. Jack and Maddie's foster son, second victim of their foolishness, and only other halfa in existence. Second only to him.
It's nauseating how similar they look. From the scowl and terrible glare on the young boy's face, to his brown skin -- which was only a few shades lighter than Daniel's, the shape of his nose, and even the strange winged edge of his eyebrow. Something that Vlad has long since come to find endearing on the child he considered a son of his own. The only difference was that Damian had dark, sharp green eyes.
Daniel's eyes were blue. The same glacier shade as his father's, who stood behind Damian with a proud, oafish smile on his visage.
It was infuriating how similar they look. Vlad might not have rapidly swung the room temperature from one extreme to the other, but he can't stop himself from letting the fury burning within his core from slipping out and raising the temperature up a few degrees.
Because it really only meant one thing.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were related.
Damian Wayne and Daniel Brown were brothers.
Standing in front of him, it was clear as day. He can already picture a phantom image of Daniel standing beside Damian, the same scowl written on his face, the same glare carved into his eyes. The only difference being the dark, exhausted circles beneath them that seemed to be permanently painted onto his skin. The only thing missing being the permanent loneliness and vigilance permeating his being like a scar.
This, if revealed, would be enough to ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation. Or, at the very least, darken it quite a bit. The great philanthropist Bruce Wayne with another secret blood child? One related to his youngest? One that had been put into foster care? Seemingly thrown away?
It would be a firestorm.
One that Vlad is not keen on starting.
It would ruin Bruce Wayne's reputation, yes. But it would hurt Daniel in the process -- the harassment he would face alone might just be enough to break that fragile child completely. That was just not something he could allow. Or, even worse, bring him into his biological father's care and custody -- something Vlad was even less willing to allow.
It's not out of kindness to Wayne that Vlad will keep mum about this.
His grip on his champagne flute tightens, just a bit. He's still aware enough of the world around him to not let it shatter in his hands. His plastered, pleasant smile tightens around the corners, and he forces his focus to slide from Damian to Wayne.
"The resemblance is uncanny, Mister Wayne." He says, slanting his smile to the side slyly. Although he's not talking about the resemblance between Wayne and his son. Rage simmers beneath his skin, burning coal and embers in the core of his chest, nestled between his lungs, as he meets the man's eyes.
Wayne swaggles his head proudly, his ditzy smile widening as he squeezes his son's shoulder affectionately. Bastard, Vlad wants to spit.
He breathes in through his nose, and exhales out through his mouth. The champagne in his hand cools, and stops its unusual bubbling.
The Damian boy scoffs under his breath, his mouth still coiled upward into a scowl. With the revelation of his blood relation to Daniel evident, Vlad's not sure if he should find it endearing or not.
He is not Daniel, so he decides that it's just simply irritating. He decides to ignore it.
"And you said he was your only biological son?" He asks, voice lilting and head tilting. He knows its a suspicious question at worst, insulting at best. But considering Wayne's past proclivities, he can hardly call it an unexpected question.
Damian puffs in great offense, face twisting angrily. It reminds him of Daniel when Vlad insisted that he was wrong about something or other, and for a moment his heart swells, fond.
But this is not his child, and so the feeling quickly crashes and burns, simmering back into rage. This was not Daniel -- this was his replacement. A replacement that Wayne was free to keep.
Wayne chuckles, idiotically, as if he'd said some funny joke. Vlad's other hand, the one gripping his cane -- something he's required ever since he was dispatched from the hospital all those lonely years ago -- tightens instead. He grinds his teeth -- him and Jack Fenton would get along like a house on fire, he hates it.
"I can understand why you'd ask that, Mister Masters," Wayne says, squeezing Damian's shoulder again, "but yes, Damian is my only biological son. Although that doesn't mean I don't love my other children any less."
Bastard.
For all his posturing and flouncing about caring for his city and his children, Vlad never would have thought the Prince of Gotham capable of abandoning one of them.
But, well.
They all have their dark secrets.
And what one man throws away, another man picks up. If Bruce Wayne didn't want the treasure child that was Daniel Brown, then Vlad Masters was more than happy to take him instead.
"I see."
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( @nitro502-the-sequel‘s tags on this post made me ugly laugh and then I had to write something, I hope that’s okay??)
Wait, no, this is hilarious, hold on
Steve drops Eddie off at home later that night, where Wayne is awake and puttering around in the kitchen making what might possibly be lunch (he tends to keep overnight hours even on his days off, so as not to completely fuck his sleep schedule, but hell if Eddie can keep track of what time of “day” it is for him).
Wayne gives Eddie a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to the pan he’s stirring on the stove. “How was your–”
“HE CROCHETED ME A SCARF.”
This was a little louder than Eddie had meant to be, but Wayne, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to look at where Eddie is standing in the middle of the living area, clutching the ends of the aforementioned scarf like it’s a towel at the end of the world.
“Who did?”
“Steve.”
“Huh,” is all Wayne says. “Is crocheting the thing with the…?” He holds his fists out in front of him, rotating them at the wrists like he’s rowing a very tiny boat.
“No, that’s knitting. Apparently, they’re different,” Eddie says, brows raised and hands held up in front of him, like he can fend off the ghost of Steve’s surprisingly enthusiastic lecture on the subject. “Crocheting is with a hook, like–” Eddie holds out one curled fist, trying to demonstrate, but it mostly just looks like he’s either stabbing something or failing to pick up some invisible spaghetti. He gives up and flutters his hands in front of himself, clearing the image. “He showed me – never mind, it’s – you’re missing the point!”
“And I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what that is,” Wayne says, turning back to the stove before the beans (Eddie’s pretty sure it’s beans he’s smelling) start to burn.
“Steve crocheted me a scarf,” Eddie enunciates, because putting the proper emphasis on certain words will definitely solve the problem.
Wayne just hums. “Well, that was nice of him. Lord knows I can never get you to wear anything warm.”
Eddie groans, clutching at this scalp and then running his hands through his hair. He’s at least seventy-five percent certain Wayne is being obtuse on purpose.
“But what am I supposed to do about it?” he laments.
“Wear it, I’d say,” Wayne replies. “Can I see it?”
Eddie hesitates for a second, because it’s his scarf and Steve made it for him, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to it when he hasn’t even had it for twenty-four hours, but then he decides he’s being ridiculous, because if he can trust anyone with his stuff, it’s Wayne. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and passes it over.
Wayne’s brows go up as he looks over the close, even stitches, running his fingers over the little ridges Steve somehow made with yarn. He nods appraisingly. “It’s nice,” he says, handing it back.
“Right?” Eddie tosses it back around his neck with a sigh.
“Did you say thank you?”
“Yes,” Eddie says, before thinking back over the moment when Steve had told him that the scarf was for him. “…more or less.”
Wayne shakes his head, turning back to his food with some unfavorable mutter about Eddie’s manners.
“Okay, but I think you’re still not seeing the problem here,” Eddie insists.
“Looks like the problem is that you’re having a conniption over a scarf in the middle of the damn living room,” Wayne shoots back.
“No, that’s– well I mean– no,” Eddie sputters. “Okay, look, what would you do if a girl made a scarf for you?”
Wayne pauses, and Eddie loves his uncle with his whole shriveled heart, but it is always funny watching him try to shift gears when he realizes they’re talking about gay things now.
“Well,” Wayne says slowly, “pretty sure I’m a little too old to have any girl knitting me a scarf.”
“Oh my god,” Eddie groans. “Fine! A mature woman, then. Work with me here!”
Eddie gets a raised eyebrow at the mature woman comment, but Wayne lets it slide. He tilts his head consideringly as he spoons some beans out onto a plate by the stove, where he’s already got toast waiting. He tilts the pan at Eddie, wordlessly offering, and Eddie shakes his head.
“I suppose I’d have to get her something in return,” Wayne finally says. “Or make her something, if I was the creative type.”
Eddie gets another pointed look at those last two words, and he groans again, letting his head fall back in defeat, because he’d been afraid that would be the answer.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to make. It’s not like I can make him warm clothes or do anything useful,” Eddie says, so caught up in the sudden and dramatic realization that all of his hobbies are entirely useless that he doesn’t manage to duck in time when Wayne gives him a not-entirely-gentle smack on the back of the head as he passes by into the living room.
“Stop that. The things you make are just fine. It doesn’t have to be useful, it just has to be thoughtful,” Wayne says, settling into his chair. “So quit standing around whining and go come up with something you can make to woo your boy.”
“Oh my god.” Eddie covers his face, even though Wayne will definitely already know he’s gone red. “You’re actually the worst. I don’t know why I talk to you.”
“You’re welcome for the advice,” Wayne drawls.
“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him, but the quick “thanks” he throws out afterwards is entirely sincere.
He retreats to his room after that; apparently, he has some thinking to do.
[Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]
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If godot has a million haters, then I am one of them. If godot has ten haters, then I am one of them. If godot has only one hater then that is me. If godot has no haters, then that means I am no longer on earth. If the world is against hating godot, then I am against the world.
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Something really great about the persona 2 cast is that they all individually fucking SUCK to talk to casually. Every single one of them. They are all infuriating. We have:
Tatsuya, who will stare at you blankly if you try to initiate conversation (IS) and will dip without saying a word afterward (EP)
Batsuya, who will scoff and brush you off/otherwise act dismissive
Eikichi, who might honestly be the best to talk to in the IS crew and that is not saying much, who WILL talk extremely loudly over you (probably not on purpose?) and will not be paying particularly close attention to the conversation beyond whatever he wants to say (gets points for talking about his gf. gets points taken away for constantly talking about his gf)
Lisa, who will automatically assume bad faith and will be rude to you the entire conversation unless you manage to defuse her temper (good luck)
Jun, who is uncommunicative at BEST and requires an encyclopedic knowledge of flowers, metaphor and body language just to get a HINT on what he’s thinking, and who will be extremely polite but completely unhelpful. If you tried asking him what he wants for dinner I guarantee it will be the longest 30 minutes of your life as he goes “oh I have no opinion :) whatever you want. :))” EXCEPT HE DOES HAVE OPINIONS. He has SO MANY OPINIONS. He is Expecting you to be able to pick up on his “obvious” clues. He will be passive aggressive if you don’t. (Jun babygirl you suck so bad I love u)
Maya, who is a delight but will very quickly become grating if you try to talk to her about anything serious as she hits you with the white suburban mom's "how to live a happy, healthy life" lifecoach slogans. You can’t even mention, like, stepping in a puddle or something without her hitting you with the positivity beam.
Yukino is great actually. 10/10. She’s fabulous we love her. Incredible conversationalist, chill and fun and easy to get along with. But she’s from Persona One, she doesn’t Count.
Ulala, who WILL bring up her relationship problems in every conversation within 10 minutes at least once. Any longer and she will start talking about Maya.
Do I even need to explain Baofu. Have you seen him.
And finally, Katsuya, who is a cop and a kiss ass and Very Obvious about these things. Also he can't talk to women. He can barely talk to men. Help Him.
And yet they all work wonderfully as a group. They are so annoying I love them
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yumehara and kuboyasu both write in a diary but yumeharas is lovingly and carefully decorated with adorable stickers and she writes in beautiful frilly handwriting with glitter pens (her handwriting actually sucks but she spends hours making this diary look pretty) while kuboyasus is filled with messy vent writing, ripped pages, and messy doodles, and the cover is fingerpainted on
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hey remember that caramel-carmel Fake Script i was writing? yeah it's technically not done but i'm tired of tinkering with it so here it is! we'll just say it's a uhhhh uncovered partial script or somethin
this is not in any way official! it's a 100% unaffiliated fanwork & i am Just Fucking Around for Funsies
~
BARNABY: oh, I love carmul!
FRANK: [long, disgusted pause] …what?
BARNABY: Carmul! You know, those tasty little treats you’re holdin’!
FRANK: You mean caramel?
BARNABY: That’s what I said.
FRANK: [scoffs] No, you didn’t. You said carmul.
BARNABY: We’re sayin’ the same thing here.
FRANK: We absolutely are not!
JULIE: [giggles] You really aren’t.
BARNABY: Carmul, caramel, tomato, tomahto! What does it matter!
FRANK: [flustered, stammering] It - it matters! Julie, you agree with me, don’t you?
JULIE: Well… I don’t know, Frank! I think both are fun!
FRANK: You’re both wrong, then! Wally, you agree with me, don’t you?
WALLY: [hesitant] …I say carmul.
FRANK: No! Not you too! How could you poison him like this, Barnaby?
BARNABY: Don’t look at me! I’m innocent, honest!
FRANK: Ha! So you admit that carmul is the wrong pronunciation!
BARNABY: [groans] ah, geez… throw a dog a bone!
FRANK: I’d be delighted to if you’d just-
[distant yelp as Eddie trips off-screen]
FRANK: Eddie! Thank goodness, finally someone who can put an end to this debate!
EDDIE: [nervous laugh] Oh no, what did I stumble into this time?
BARNABY: Hold on a tic, Frank. Hey Ed, take this. What do you call that tasty treat?
EDDIE: [with a tinge of fear] A… caramel?
FRANK: [triumphant] a-HA!
SALLY: [approaching] Did someone mention carmul?
FRANK: AGH!
BARNABY: [delighted] Perfect timing, Sally!
SALLY: What, for a delicious morsel? Hand it over, thank you!
FRANK: You’re all wrong, and I’ll prove it! We’re going to go around the neighborhood and - wait. [under his breath] One two three four - [returns to normal volume] we’re taking this to Poppy’s!
BARNABY: Then Home, then Howdy, yeah yeah - might as well ask the daisies, too.
JULIE: Oooh, and the butterflies!
SALLY: While we’re at it, we should phone everyone in the book, just to get the widest audience input.
FRANK: [unamused] You all think you’re so funny.
EDDIE: Well, you gotta admit it’s… it’s…
[brief, tense pause. Eddie clears his throat]
EDDIE: It’s perfectly sensible!
[Frank makes an affronted noise]
FRANK: Poppy will see sense.
-
POPPY: I’d be delighted to have a cah-mehl, but I’m afraid it-
FRANK: [aghast, truly astonished] You’re joking. You have to be joking. CAH-MEHL? Does no one in this town have sense?! Besides Eddie, of course. And Julie - on a technicality.
EDDIE: [oddly pleased] Why thank you.
POPPY: My goodness, did- did I say it wrong?
BARNABY: [gleeful] Not in the least, Pops!
SALLY: As far as I’m concerned, you added an extra layer of… pizazz to the word. In fact, I may adjust my own pronunciation accordingly!
POPPY: [flustered] Oh, well, I didn’t - don’t change on my account -
SALLY: Take the compliment, Poppy.
POPPY: [meekly] Thank you.
[Sally wanders from the group, practicing the slightly adjusted pronunciation]
WALLY: I’m not sure I understand. What’s wrong with carmul or… care… mul… carmel…
POPPY: Don’t strain yourself dear, you’ll get a migraine.
FRANK: What’s wrong is that it’s ENTIRELY incorrect! It! Is! Pronounced! Caramel!
JULIE: Aww, Frank, I’m sure Home and Howdy will agree with us! Team Caramel, WOOO!
BARNABY: [barely restrained disbelief] Boy, won’t they!
POPPY: I’m not sure what the fuss is about… there isn’t much of a difference, is there?
[Frank makes a high pitched, frustrated noise and stomps off. He can be heard calling Home’s name in the background]
JULIE: Oop, there he goes!
POPPY: Oh - oh dear. I didn’t mean to rile him up.
BARNABY: Don’t twist your beak about it - Frank’s just bein’ Frank. Now if you’ll excuse us, I wanna see how it goes with Home.
WALLY: [quietly, thoughtful] But Home doesn’t talk like us…
POPPY: If you’re sure… Do let me know how it goes.
SALLY: [swaying back to the group] I’ll phone you post-haste! Or even better, I can come by for one of your delicious muffins and regale you with the whole escapade, in detail.
POPPY: [audibly pleased] That sounds - well that sounds like a wonderful idea! I have some fresh from this morning-
BARNABY: Sounds great! See you around, Poppy.
-
FRANK: Home, I have an important question to ask you. Is the correct pronunciation for this candy ‘carmul’, or ‘caramel’? One creak for caramel, two for the incorrect carmul.
BARNABY: Talk about a bias…
[Home stays silent. Sally yawns.]
FRANK: One creak for caramel, two-
[Home slowly shuts their curtains]
FRANK: Hmph! The nerve… well, I suppose a house that can’t speak shouldn’t have a say, anyway.
WALLY: Home can speak. He just does it differently.
BARNABY: And I’m pretty sure they just agreed with me, Walls, an’ Sally.
JULIE: They did not!
BARNABY: Looked like it to me!
SALLY: I have to agree with Julie. Home just declared itself a neutral party, and so the vote can’t be counted either way. On to Howardson!
JULIE: Yes! Howdy! Our last hope!
FRANK: He may have terrible taste in company, but he’s a sensible businessman. Poppy and Home have let me-
JULIE: Us!
FRANK: -us down, but surely Howdy will back us up.
BARNABY: [faux-serious tone, knows something they don’t] Absolutely. Without a doubt.
-
[store bell chimes]
HOWDY: Howdy-do - [brief pause, a tinge of surprise] everyone! My my, what brings the entire neighborhood to my bountiful bodega? Finally decided to clean me out for good?
BARNABY: [snorts] With how fast you restock? I think I’d break my funnybone!
FRANK: We have important business.
HOWDY: [mildly curious] Do we? That’s news to me! But I’m letting you know now that I don’t deal in bugs, Frankly. It’d be hypocritical.
FRANK: Believe me, I wish I were here to talk insects. Unfortunately, I need to settle a score. Mr. Dear, if you would?
EDDIE: If I would what?
SALLY: [stage-whisper] Barnabello gave you the, ah, parcel earlier?
EDDIE: The…? Oh! Oh, right - I have it right here, just… give me a second… which pocket…? There we go.
[sound of a small, hard candy placed on the countertop]
HOWDY: A carmul all for me? You shouldn’t have! No, really, you shouldn’t have. I’m on the clock.
BARNABY: [loud bark of laughter] I knew I could count on you, pal! So what’s the tally, Frankie?
[Frank mutters something inaudible]
BARNABY: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of me bein’ right!
FRANK: [explosive] You’re all wrong! The correct pronunciation is caramel, CARAMEL! You’re all - you’re all just - heathens! Heathens, I say! I’m taking my company elsewhere!
EDDIE: Mr. Frankly…
JULIE: [overlapping, following] Aw, c’mon Frank!
[the door jingles. Julie and Frank’s hushed arguing in the doorway underlies the dialogue]
HOWDY: It sounds like I missed quite the context! Mind filling me in?
BARNABY: That was pretty much it; a real potato potahto argument.
HOWDY: If you say so, Barn. Speaking of potahtos-
[the background argument abruptly cuts off, the door jingles again as it's closed]
FRANK: [rapidly rejoining the group] Hold it! You don’t really say potahto, do you?
BARNABY: [under breath] Here we go again…
SALLY: [deeply amused] Where on Earth did you pick up such a butchered pronunciation? I must have missed the sign on my tour down from the heavens.
EDDIE: [baffled, underlying the dialogue] I’ve never heard anyone say it that way.
JULIE: Oh! Is it a joke? Like, Barnaby says potato-potahto, and then you jokingly say potahto to make us laugh?
HOWDY: It’s not a joke. That’s how it’s said.
FRANK: [genuinely disturbed] No - no one says that. It’s potato.
HOWDY: Well I say potahto, thank you very much! And if you ever want one from my store again, you’d do well to accept that.
[Various grumbles of reluctant acceptance]
HOWDY: Good. Now, can I get any of you a refreshing drink after such a squall? You must be parched!
WALLY: I wouldn’t mind a glass of mulk.
[Horrified silence. A pin drop would be deafening]
[Sudden uproarious and overlapping argument]
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Hey remember when I said that this was the most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer?
Yeah I was wrong.
The most frustrating thing about being a Helluva Boss enjoyer is explicitly stating multiple times that I like show and then get called an anti and homophobic and media illiterate when I complain about the direction it has taken.
I LIKE the comedy
I LIKE the animation and artstyle
I LIKE the more serious plotlines like the government agents plot and the Cherubs plot
I LIKE the themes of friendship and found family
I even like most of the songs!
And ofc the voice cast slays every time
But just because your show has angst and tears and drama and sad music doesn't automatically make it "good".
Just because your characters are queer doesn't automatically make them good or well written characters
This fandom is so frustrating to deal with when you want to express your more nuanced takes of it
This is probably gonna be the last post I make about this subject and about Helluva Boss in general, this shit is too stupid to deal with
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‘Is there a point to any of this or do you just want to see how much more I can take?’ snaps Crassus.
‘Oh, I knew there was still some bite left in you,’ says Cethegus, thrilled.
Cethegus teaches Crassus the art of politics and the ways of business. Sulla is not a fan.
Sulla: the Last Republican, Arthur Keaveney
Crassus, Catilina, and the Vestal Virgins, Ronald Syme
Sulla: the Last Republican, Arthur Keaveney
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I can't wait for this to come back!!! >>> when is this coming back?
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for the ask game (1)
au where bruce is attracted to his robins and batgirls. he tries not to think about it or act on it, but it's getting more difficult with every new member of his team he acquires. does anyone know? do the robins and batgirls notice his weird behavior? what do they do about it? do they ever find out the truth? who would think it's terrible and who would find it strangely hot/comforting/nice? does bruce ever act on his feelings?
for the ask game!
oh my GOD do i have thoughts for AUs like this, i love this shit so dearly, dirtybadwrong Bruce who's trying to keep a lid on it my beloved.
i think the fun of this AU is if characters would notice Bruce lusting for themselves vs would they notice Bruce lusting for a different Robin/Batgirl. like does Dick pick up on it when it's just him and Bruce? no, because it's just. him and Bruce. he and Bruce are weird and complicated and hold endless bounds of nuance. that's just How Bruce Is, and Dick is the "test run", in a sense. he knows Bruce is new to this whole sidekick/family thing and is giving Bruce grace for being rough around the edges. but when Bruce starts looking at Jason or Tim or Cass that way, that's when Dick starts to notice. it's never enough of a suspicion he feels justified to bring it up, but the thought lingers. he's hyperaware and grows less and less comfortable with leaving them alone with Bruce. it's a weird game of chicken, Dick and Bruce staring each other down when Bruce's touch lingers too long. each waiting for the other to say something first. if Bruce ever broke and actually acted on his feelings, Dick would be eaten alive by the guilt of knowing something was up, but never saying something until it was too late.
obviously, Cass would know. there's no world where Cass *doesn't* know, the nature of who and what she is would immediately clock it. but the issue is, Cass doesn't have a good framework of what family looks like. she doesn't really understand familial vs romantic love bc she has no firsthand experience of what a parent's love should even look like. so she never calls it out. she just watches. i'm a fan of Cass believing this is normal and believing she too can express and act on attraction that's vaguely incestuous. maybe it's with Babs, maybe it's with Dick or Tim or Bruce himself. but she recognizes this as Normal and Accepted within the Batfamily, so it severely fucks up her understanding of familial love and i just. man it's my favorite thing about Cass in Batcest honestly, is how you can play with her lack of experience with love, boundaries, and sexuality.
Tim is the fun one for me. because my favorite flavor of BruTim is when Tim knows, as he agrees to be Robin, that there's a non-zero chance that Bruce is going to be Weird and agrees anyway because he's decided it's an acceptable risk. so Tim knows from the get-go because he's expecting it. if Bruce acts on his attraction, i think it's either with Tim or Cass first, because they're the most likely to confront him about it in a way that isn't entirely negative. Tim has accepted it's a possibility and Cass just seeks being loved and touched so. it leads to the first time someone's ever confronted Bruce about it. and the thing is, Bruce really doesn't like confrontation about his flaws. the first time Tim tries to imply he's okay with it, Bruce would lash out at the idea, tell Tim how inappropriate that is and benches Tim for a week. it'd probably take a united front from Cass and Tim to get Bruce to even *admit* to the attraction. still Bruce wouldn't allow it to happen and he brushes them off until finally, the dam breaks. it's fun if there's a cause like sex pollen, but i think it's *more* fun if it's just. a random fucking Tuesday and finally Bruce is at his limit. he has no real reason, there's nothing particularly different about that day's routine. he just sees Tim or Cass striping armor and sighs and gives in.
i don't think Steph, Jason, or Babs would notice until anything substantial happened. not because they're not wicked smart, but just because none of them were looking for it. Jason put Bruce on a pedestal when he was alive, and when he came back from the dead he wasn't close enough to be noticing Bruce's interpersonal dynamics outside of his narrow scope. Steph has no real framework for what healthy fatherhood looks like, so if Bruce's touches linger, if he stares too long, she just shrugs and assumes it's how it is. and Babs was just never quite close enough to Bruce to notice. if and when she notices, is when actual sexual things start to happen between Cass and Bruce. because Cass would see no reason to hide it. Babs would be pissed, but it'd be tricky to navigate. Cass would be an adult, even if she's only 18/19, so technically, she's old enough to be consenting. if nothing else, Bruce is a careful man. even when he breaks and gives in to his desires, he covers his tracks well. he makes sure he has enthusiastic consent and there's no legal recourse that could be taken. age of consent and all that. there's not much Babs can *do* other than try to tell Cass (and/or Tim) that this isn't normal or okay. not that it gets her anywhere, but god would she try.
by the time Duke comes along (if we venture out of the pre-Flashpoint era) i think it's a sort of. open secret, in the Batfamily. talked about in nothing but hushed whispers and knowing glances. at some point, they've all had sex with Bruce, caving all for different reasons. some more than others. Tim sees it as a duty, Cass sees it as a way of seeking comfort, Steph sees it as getting Bruce's approval for once, etc. it's never forced on them, but eventually, they all come to Bruce sooner or later. and that's the fun irony of it, i think. they try to convince the others not to, but would go to Bruce on their own well. because complicated reasons they can't put into words. sometimes, Bruce is just a messy man who doesn't realize how prized his Attention to for the rest of the Batfamily. that weird duality of not liking him, but also wanting desperately for him to like you. all of them have dealt with it, at some point. so for Duke, it takes a while for him to understand this... whole dynamic. it's Cass who tries to explain it to him, and he's a little horrified, a lot confused. especially when Bruce starts staring at him a little too long as well. i think he'd only want to watch first but well. they all cave eventually.
also fun bonus if we venture into the Dark Knight Returns universe for my bestest girl Carrie Kelley: there's such a like, "i'm fucking around and i'm finding out" vibe to Carrie. like Tim, she's very proactive in just. deciding she's going to be Robin and she's ready for whatever that entails. (IMO canon Carrie is closer to fanon Tim than canon Tim is but *that* deserves its own post-) like she takes one look at the old man that is Batman and goes yup. he's never fucking getting rid of me now. if Bruce started having weird feelings about her, i think she'd have *fun* with it. she's decided she's in it for the long haul and for whatever being Robin means so. she's almost teasing about it, seeing how hard she can push before Bruce snaps. since it's an older, gruffer Bruce, i think he'd express open annoyance at it first, almost a sort of banter about how Carrie behave. but of course he caves and Carrie leans into it, because there's a fun in having all of Bruce's attention to herself. in the main timeline, Bruce is pretty split with so many Robins and Batgirls, but during their era, it's *just* her and him and she's very proud she's got him all to herself.
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can i ask for J - “Jealousy? You think this is simple jealousy? I wish it was that simple! You stole my heart and now you have to take responsibility.” with aemond please?
Sometimes you forgot how unforgiving your husband actually was, it was easy to forget when he was nothing but kind towards you, the loving husband.
But, as he pulled you along with harsh tugs towards your shared room, you remembered his nature.
"I am your husband! Not that-" Aemond grit his teeth at the memory of you dancing and laughing with Jace.
"Not that bastard Strong!" Aemond's jaw twitched as he slammed the door open, tugging you inside and slamming the door.
It seemed to all click for you and a part of you cursed your forgetfulness. "Wait, are you... jealous?" You were hesitant to ask this but it had come out anyways.
"Jealousy? You think this is simple jealousy?" Aemond scoffed as he let go of your wrist and backed you into the wall. "I wish it was that simple! You stole my heart and now you have to take responsibility!" He hissed at you as his hand came up and gripped your jaw.
"If I see him near you ever again, I'll rip his eyes out and gift them to you, dearest." The look in his eyes was downright murderous as he claimed your lips in a kiss so passionate that it almost burned you.
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Oh look. Reverse!Robins.
Bruce: “No murder.”
Damian: “No murder.”
Cass: “No murder.”
Tim: “No murder.”
Jason: “No murder for babies.”
Duke: “No murder until you can write me a researched & cited essay on why it is necessary for the greater good. Five page minimum.”
Dick: “I’m gonna murder.”
Red Hood!Steph: “I LIKE THIS ONE!”
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what i appreciated the most in season 3 about them showing us Colin getting some from prostitutes is where they highlighted the most important thing about Colin is just how dismally bad he is at being a whore. He's not a free-for-all bitch. He's a one woman man, always has been, even when he didn't know what fucking woman his ass belongs to. one kiss from the right girl and he was acting like a mf fool descending into absolute fucking madness, completely batshit, full on Beyonce Crazy in Love level insanity, boy couldn't even concentrate enough to walk in straight lines anymore. fucking fantastic meltdown.
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no one tell my bosses they’re paying me to write wolfstar smut instead of do my job.
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i'm not really a big pet whump guy but i am currently fixated on this idea of a pet whumpee gifted to a struggling caretaker (chronically/mentally ill, an addict, something like that) and caretaker does find the whole idea kind of disturbing and whumpee is very trained to repress all of their own emotions and thoughts to prioritise their owner's which is concerning but at the same time... whumpee is kind of comforting and nice to have around... and more dependable than any of caretaker's friends... and yeah whumpee deserves to try to be a person again but caretaker kind of selfishly wants them to stay like this because at least it means someone prioritises and cares about caretaker above all else
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ode to the drowned rat. who’s hiding under there??
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