hattersrabbit

Latest Posts by hattersrabbit

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader.

Summary: So, he might be going against "bro code". He can't help it, though; his best friend's sibling is just too cute.

A/N: Reader can be imagined as biological/adopted/found family.

DICK GRAYSON & WALLY WEST

How Dick hadn't learnt to not leave his phone unattended was beyond Wally, especially when, for a vigilante, the man had such lax security for his personal phone. Nor should he have ever trusted Wally with the password.

Already drafting his absolute PR nightmare tweet on Dick's account, he's mentally rubbing his evil little hands together when his thumb hits the banner notification that pops up on the top of the screen.

My Heart: Thinking about you, come home soon xo

Alongside the text is a photo, a very suggestive photo of a woman dressed in nothing but one of Dick's hoodies. Wally knows because he bought Dick that hoodie, he's also very familiar with the woman in the photo on account of it being his baby sister.

He shrieks, the phone slipping from his slack with shock grip and landing on his big toe.

He doesn't hear the ringtone over his sudden stream of pained expletives, hopping on one foot, until he hears your voice from the speaker.

"Hey babe! You left your hoodie at - "

"YOU!" Wally screams, blubbering incoherently, pointing an accusing finger at the phone like you can see him.

"Jesus Christ," he can practically see you recoiling away from your phone, "Wally?" You've heard enough of your brother's meltdowns over the years that you can recognise him from just a single word.

"YOU, YOU - YOU HARLOT!" You snort at his words, staying silent until his stream of consciousness is finished.

"You done?" You hum, completely unphased at the tantrum Wally's just thrown for the past seven minutes.

"Am I, am I done? No, I'm not done." He squawks, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" There's a beat of incredulous silence on your end.

"Excuse me? What have I done to you?"

"DEFILED THE SACRED BOND OF BROTHERHOOD IS WHAT YOU'VE DONE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND"

"The sacred bond of brotherhood? I'm your fucking sibling, you're supposed to attack him, not me!" Wally can't help but notice how you don't deny his words.

"Oh, believe me, Dickhead is gonna get what's coming to him."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm hanging up now, tell Dick I'm getting pizza for dinner."

"Don't you dare - " He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before you've followed through.

"Hey Wally, have you seen my ... phone?" Dick trails off as he spots the item he's looking for in his agitated friend's hand.

"You don’t fuck your best friends younger sibling. That’s like the number one rule of bro code!” Wally shrieked, not greeting him like a normal person, and not giving Dick even a second to realise what was happening before he was being grabbed and shaken by his shoulders.

"I love her." No explanation, no apologies, just pure earnestness and the softest look Wally had ever seen on his friend's face.

The declaration takes all the wind out of his sails, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He drags a hand down his face slowly,

Finally, he groaned and dragged both hands down his face. "Ugh. I hate that you’re so genuine. It ruins my ability to stay mad. Barry's not going to be happy you kept this from him though."

The mental image of the Flash going protective uncle giving him the slightest bit of sick satisfaction, until Dick shatters his dreams by casually saying, "he already knows."

"He what?! Am I the last to know?" Dick makes a show of thinking about it before shrugging with an unapologetic grin.

"Kinda, yeah."

"I'M SURROUNDED BY TRAITORS!" Wally yells, sinking to his knees in defeat.

JASON TODD & ROY HARPER

Nobody had ever accused Roy of being a detective. He might not be as smart as the bats (an impossible hurdle in Roy's opinion), but he wasn't completely fucking stupid.

An unfortunate reality for his sister, who he'd caught sneaking into the Titans Tower at the ripe time of 4:47 am, wearing a familiar leather jacket with a bullet hole in the sleeve. A jacket that could only mean one of two things.

You had joined a biker gang.

You were dating Jason Todd, AKA, his best friend, AKA dead fucking meat.

Because while option one terrified him, he'd still prefer it to the option he had a sinking suspicion about was actually correct.

The next afternoon, he finds Jason working out in the Tower's gym, and he grins wickedly. Bastard didn't even have to make Roy track him down.

"Hey, Roy." Jason greets, never once faltering in his reps, entirely unbothered, like he hadn’t committed emotional treason.

Roy thinks he could be forgiven for his following action, he could have done a lot worse than picking up the nearest kettlebell and throwing it at his unsuspecting friend.

"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?" Jason screeched as he dove for cover.

"YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?!"

"Um, what?" He squeaks, before clearing his throat, "I mean... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't try to gaslight me!" Roy jabbed a finger at him, seething. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you went and... and started... canoodling my sister."

Jason’s brows shot up in amusement despite himself. "Canoodling?"

"Don't try and deflect either." Roy flushed as red as his hair.

"I’m not—well. Okay. I am. But in my defense, it wasn’t like I planned to fall for your sister."

"Have you kissed?"

Jason contemplates lying but bites the bullet and nods.

Roy gasped like an old lady hearing someone say cunt. "ON PURPOSE?!"

Jason gave him a flat look. "No, Roy, I tripped and fell. Of course, it was on purpose. More than once, too." He smirks, unable to stop himself from prodding the bear.

Roy spasms.

"Ok, let's not make this weird." Jason huffs.

"Make this weird? It's already weird, we're neck deep in it, NAY!, We're drowning in it!"

"Oh dear god," Jason sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and speaking before he can think better of it, "I love her."

Roy chokes, Jason startles, clearly surprising, even himself, "Oh my god, I love her."

There's a heavy, pained silence before Roy croaks "... Bro"

"I know." Jason tugged at the roots of his hair.

"…BRO." Roy was trying to prevent a panic attack, his panic fuelling Jason's.

"I know."

"You love me?" A slightly giddy voice breathes from the doorway.

Both men groan for different reasons as they spot you bouncing toward them.

"Babe, I -"

"I love you too," you beam, throwing your arms around Jason's neck and kissing him like your life depends on it.

Roy gags, forcing you to pull away. "God, this is gonna ruin every group hang for the rest of my life." He whined.

"Nah. You’ll get used to me kissing your sister in front of you."

"I SWEAR TO GOD —"

TIM DRAKE & CONNER KENT

Conner's knee is jiggling furiously. From across the room, Cassie raises a questioning brow, but Conner makes no effort to stop as he checks the time for the fourth time in less than three minutes.

You're late. So is Tim, but it's not him Conner's worried about. You're never late; you've always been a perpetually early person, and you always get so anxious if you aren't. Conner knows, having been on the receiving end of your time-anxious meltdowns more than once.

"Dude, calm down, they're not even five minutes late yet," Bart says, looking at him as if he's the weird one here, when clearly, something terrible has happened to you.

You've been in a car accident (you don't drive), you've been shot, (you're bulletproof), you've been taken hostage by Lex Luthor (plausible), you've -

"Hi guys, sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm." You laugh bashfully, avoiding Conner's gaze, which narrows in suspicion.

"That never happens." He scowls, his enhanced hearing picking up the slight stutter in your heartbeat.

"Well, it did today." You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit next to Cassie.

Barely two minutes later, a harried-looking Tim scurries through the door, brushing his sweaty hair from his face, and in doing so, accidentally reveals a hickey just beneath the neckline of his shirt.

It's only for a second, but that one second is all he needs to connect the dots.

"No." He says, glaring at Tim as everyone else, including you, watches in confusion.

"No?" Tim repeats.

"NO!" Conner snarls, jumping up from his seat and pulling down the neckline of Tim's shirt to display not one, but three love bites.

"YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?!"

"Technically, there wasn't much sleeping involved - " Tim mutters, with absolutely zero regard for his well-being.

"I trusted you with my life, and you go behind my back to DEFLOWER MY INNOCENT BABY SISTER?!"

"You're the same age?" Tim mumbles at the same time you scoff.

"Deflower? Innocent? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Are you my owner?"

"Stay out of this!" Conner whirls on you, his gaze dangerously red.

"Stay out of my own sex life?" You guffaw, ignoring the way Conner puffs up like an angry cat. "Besides, Tim's hardly my first."

Your words are enough to shock your brother enough that he drops Tim, reeling back with a hand on his chest like he's suffering a heart attack.

You take the opportunity to scoop your partner into your arms, flying away before Kon can recover, until you reach the safety of the bed you've both only just left.

"I think he's actually going to kill me." Tim mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"Hmm, guess you''ll just have to keep me around forever, for protection."

"Sounds perfect." Tim dreamily says, clutching you even tighter in contentment.

BRUCE WAYNE & CLARK KENT

Once, there would have been a time when interviewing Gotham’s Bruce Wayne would have left him an anxious wreck, but now, Clark relished in the opportunity. Giddy that his best friend, no matter how much the man denied it, would turn to him (him! A Metropolis interloper), instead of someone like that tart Vicki Vale.

(That thought has him mentally apologising to his ma for his crudeness, but what she wouldn't know, couldn't hurt her.)

Needless to say, Clark was excited to have been given the chance, and he refused to squander it.

They were in Bruce's "office," a room they both knew he hardly ever even stepped foot inside, but had occupied to keep up the facade.

A brilliant facade it was, Clark thought in amusement, as he watched Brucie Wayne ramble on earnestly. Nobody would ever suspect the man, reaching for his wallet to pull out a picture of his kids in an interview on Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures, to be the fearsome Batman.

Clark, ever affable, just smiles, nodding along until a second picture flutters onto the desk. Bruce freezes, his perfected mask slipping just a fraction, but enough for Clark to notice as the unshakeable man's eyes widen in sheer panic.

Bruce was composed. He was always in control, a master of self-control. Bruce was unflappable, he had a plan for everything.

Bruce, evidently, did not have a plan, beyond freezing in horror, for when an intimate Polaroid of his girlfriend, Clark's sister, landed face up on the table between them.

You're wearing one of his button-up shirts, seated sideways across Bruce's lap, the man's large hand clasped over your thigh, as you stare up at him like he's your whole world.

Clark paused, staring at the photo on the desk like it was a live grenade.

Bruce, very carefully, snuck a hand out to retrieve it. Only to be thwarted by Clark's superspeed. He holds it between his thumb and his index finger like it might bite him, the blinding grin never once fading from his face.

Bruce thinks it's the most terrifying Clark has ever looked.

There's a long pause, with Bruce mentally calculating how long it will take before he has some Kryptonite on his hands and whetehr or not Clark will flatten him before then.

"Oh my god," Clark said.

Bruce grimaced. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you're dating my sister."

"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like, but—" He cuts off once more as Clark speaks with surprising giddiness.

"You carry her around in your wallet. Like a real boyfriend, it's sickeningly sweet."

Bruce opened his mouth, closing it and opening it again repeatedly like a stunned fish as he blushed a brilliant red.

Clark wasn’t finished; if anything, he looked like Christmas had come early.

"Is there more?" Bruce stiffens, "There is! Do you have a shrine? I bet you have a shrine!"

"Clark."

"Is it in the batcave?"

"Clark."

"What about a scrapbook? Is she on the manor walls yet?"

"Clark."

"Do your kids know? Wait, am I the last to know?!" He seemed genuinely hurt by that thought.

Bruce looked up at the ceiling like it could save him from the confrontation; he thinks he'd rather fight than... whatever the hell, it is Clark's doing.

TREAT YOU BETTER

curly x reader | sfw

CW! gn reader, more platonic leaning but can be seen as romantic if you want, hurt comfort, j#mmy bashing, friends to best friends, pre-game

Summary! Simple, convince Curly that Jimmy isn’t good for him, and that he’s an asshole.

You stilled watching Jimmy talking to Curly.

Furrowed brows tightening when seeing how uncomfortable and stiff Curly had become when Jimmy started to expressing a certain amount of anger.

Too much anger.

“Jim, God- please-“

“No, it’s you that needs to do this! For me, or I’ll end up somewhere worse, and so will you.”

You grimaced at the language. You watched as Curly stepped back experimentally. Nervous and anxious around the angry man in front of him.

"God you know what! Fuck you Curly!"

Your eyes blinked rapidly as Jimmy walked away. It left Curly standing there with an opened mouth. Shaking clenched fists and clear incoming tears he chose to push down.

Softly, "Curly."

His body shook as he found you staring at him. Slowly you took his hands and led you to somewhere else in the mall. "Let it all out."

You pulled the man into an embrace. Curly's sobs were gut wrenching. Piled upon piles of repressed feelings were let out.

Softly you rubbed his back as he sobbed his loving heart out.

Curly was a man that cared too much, and didn't like conflict. Caring way too much about Jimmy who was horrible to him.

Curly was too good for that piece of shit.

Curly let that love affect everything. All to not upset the angry and manipulative Jimmy. You scowled at the thought of that man.

"Don't listen to that piece of shit, Curly. He's wrong." You whispered into the blondes ear.

"But-"

"Sshh. Don't talk." Hand goes up to his curls and ran a hand through them. Too far, maybe but it soothed the man in your arms.

"He's wrong. About you, Curly. You're not too much and it's him who is guilty. He's grown man that needed to take responsibility for his own actions."

Slowly, you pulled away. Your hands cupping the man's face firmly. Curly's eyes were puffy with red nose. Tears rolling down his cheeks as he stared at you.

"It is him who'll fall and only him. He's doing it to make it seem like it's your fault because he's dependent on you, Curly."

Curly didn't speak. He listened.

The screws were turning in his head as he listened to your words.

"Making you feel responsible for him then you'll fall for this little fuckery he's casting." You smiled. A laugh followed, "You're too kind and conflict avoiding, Curly."

You removed your hands from Curly's face. Still and frozen he watched you smile gently at him but firmness stayed.

"Don't settle for a piece of shit like him. No man treats his friend like that. Not like luggage, and clearly manipulating you like everything's your fault when it's his."

Curly nodded. He wiped his tears and snot away with his sleeve. "He's bad. To me?" A question and not a statement.

"Yes, he's bad for you. An asshole, Curly."

You squinted your eyes and saw how Curly was fighting himself in his head. "God, just what has Jimmy done to you, Curly."

You had a sneaking suspicion that if this continued then something would happen. Something terrible and Jimmy would do something terrible.

Something terrible to someone else, and Curly.

Curly wouldn't know how to help and it would be too late. It was best to put an end to this now, or else.

"That position at Pony's Express. Curly." Your voice was firm. Eyes practically glaring at Curly who froze up.

"I don't mean to be forceful but you can't allow Jimmy to be with you or on a ship with you or anyone honestly. I'd prefer it that way but if you do get him a job then make sure he's far away from you." You set a hand on Curly's shoulder.

"Or make sure he's set low on the ladder. He's gonna hurt people. He's gonna hurt you, Curly. So please." You begged.

"Okay...I see how he's...What he's done to me..." Curly spoke quietly. Still sniffling and tears still falling from his face.

He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Okay." He picked his head up.

Firmly.

Like a captain.

You smiled. Like a captain.

Can you do a request for Kitana x Faerie Reader?

When Kitana meets a very tiny Faerie from the Hanging Garden of Outworld. That the Faerie is come from the woods

WONDROUS

kitana x faerie! reader | sfw

CW! gn reader, kitana being cute, fluffy, ambiguous ending, mild angst, referenced purging of said faerie race

Summary! It was a known fact that faeries were extinct in Outworld, but as luck would have it Kitana has seemed to find one alive

thank you for the request!

Kitana’s eyes were wide when she saw the sight of a tiny little thing with wings. Glitter like in the color of gold surrounding them.

A faerie right in front of her.

Wonder filled her eyes. That same child like wonder a younger Edenian would have. Stories that Sindel, her mother would tell her. The stories of creatures in Outworld called Faeries.

Long ago they ruled the Living Forest once. Guarding it, but it merchants wanted a piece. They were powerful despite the small size.

They were captured like butterflies, like in Earth Realm, and harvested for their wings. A pretty penny was sought after if you came with a faerie, and an even bigger amount of money would be given if it was a live one.

It was only until that Lord Liu Kang and her father got a stop to the purging. Unfortunately it was too late as it looked the last of the Faeries were slaughtered.

It was story that always brought tears to Kitana and her sister, Mileena. Always questioning why such cruelty was brought to such a beautiful and powerful race. A race that only wanted peace and to live.

Sindel didn’t know why, and only saying that Outworld was a cruel world before her husband and Liu Kang changed everything.

And now Kitana was looking at Faerie right in front of her after thinking the entire race was wiped out.

It was before long she realized that you were staring right at her. Tilting your tiny head in curiosity.

“Hello?” Kitana mumbled out cautiously. Everyone of every race took part in the carnage, and no doubt she didn’t want to scare you away.

It was always her dream to one day meet one, and believed it would never happen. It was her chance. Fulfill her childhood wonder because a Faerie was right in front of her.

Only a bell sound came from you.

She remembered that faeries sounded like bells to all Outworlders. "I'm Kitana. Princess of Outworld." She bowed to you. She pulled down her mask to reveal her lips to you.

You; came down from your porch. A hanging flower from the garden in the palace. Never did Kitana expect to find a faerie alive, and no less in her garden.

A bell came from you.

Holding out a finger you stepped and sat on it. Kitana's face came close and found a smile on your face. One hopeful and bright.

Hope that she was a kind person who wouldn't kill you for a penny.

"Sister! Where are you!?" Mileena's voice called out from somewhere else in the garden.

You jumped at the sound of her sister. Hiding in Kitana's hair with a shaken body. Slowly Kitana lifted her finger and petted your tiny head.

Soft hair and soft flowers touching the palm of her index finger. "It's okay, my friend. Just my sister, beloved empress."

Your face expressed something different. "I promise." A gentle smile was sent your way from the princess.

Your brows raised and a soft smile crossed your lips. You spoke and a bell followed. Cheerful and not at all doubtful.

A wonderful beginning to a wonderful friendship.

Perhaps there were more faeries living like you. Maybe then the world would be able to meet a race that was deemed extinct.

Kitana giggled as you nuzzled into your cheeks for comfort as Mileena's call for Kitana got louder.

Kitana felt good about the greatness of Outworld this day.

wasn't gonna post any of my art but I decided why not

So here's a sketch of a possible hero/vigilante costume for my DC OC; Dolly Moonin or AkA "The Nymph" :)

"They’re not collateral damage — they are being targeted."

The image you see is not from a war movie. It's a real X-ray of a Palestinian child. A sniper's bullet pierced her skull. This was not an accident. It was a calculated shot — to the head. How many children must bleed before the world opens its eyes?

I see this, and I tremble. Because I, too, am a mother. My own child is injured. He cries every night from pain. He needs urgent medical care — but we are trapped under siege, under fear, under silence.

How long before my son becomes another X-ray? Another hashtag? Another number?

If you're reading this, you have power — power to share, power to donate, power to care.

Help me get my son out. Help save him before it’s too late. Gaza’s children are not targets. They are lives. They are futures. Please don’t look away

Please Donate now:👇👇 👇

gofundme.com

Donate to Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Family from War in Gaza, organized by Ghazal Naseer

‎‏Dear friends, ‎‏My name is Ghazal Naseer, from pales… Ghazal Naseer needs your support for Join Us in Our Struggle: Save Our Famil

✅️My campaign is vetted by el-shab-hussein& Nabulsi's, my number verified on the list is ( #355)✅️ 👇

Google Docs

Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List

i think there's something really wrong with me

Absolute Martian Manhunter #2 has a strong visual style, and John yells at a baby.

A chaotic, lighter, and more visual start going into an incredibly dark and thoughtful ending.

I have been reading about weaving and cheese making in the middle ages, so my brain was not super interested in switching to reading this incredible comic despite looking forward to it for a month.

My brain wants to read about sheep farmers but it was worth forcing myself to stop the deep dive and read my comic, because this had dopamine too!

in case you were wondering what the blocked poster says i revealed it for you, that is definitely 100% what it says.

I was not expecting to be getting a buddy cop story. I love how the entity is a freaky dude who wants to be "roomates" and is apparently kinda silly.

Or it was silly for a second before he went through THAT

So now I'm thinking about all the implications of this comic and I can't get back into my history deep dive. If I started saving now for the Absolute Omnibus, I would only have to put aside like 5 dollars a week to buy it the day it comes out. Just sayin.

He’s just a lil guy

- Absolute Martian Manhunter (2025) #2

My name is mahmoud mohammed jaafar jaafar i studied computer engineering and graduated from university in 2023 i worked as a software engineer in a local company here in gaza unit the war started, then the company got destroyed and became unemployed and our house is destroyed partially and became inhabitant to live in but nevertheless we stayed in it because we do not else to go i currently live in north gaza where is a scarcity of food and i have 3 brothers and 4 sister one of them died while he was trying to find food for the family so i am the eldest in my family now i have to provide a living for them

Any amount you give me will help me a lot in supporting my family in Gaza in light of the fear and lack of food, medicine and drink

Chuffed

Help Mahmoud Support His Family

My name is Mahmoud Mohammed Jaafar Jaafar. I studied computer engineering and graduated from university in 2023 i worked as a software engin

Any amount you give me will help me a lot, even if it is $10.

🕊️ Please Take a Moment to Read Nadin’s Story

My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.

I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.

My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.

I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.

This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.

If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.

Chuffed

Help Nadin Keep Her Life Stitched Together

My name is Nadin I’m a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on — to hope, to our families, to any piece

I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.

Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

CW! male reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, toxic behavior, overprotective avengers, obsessive behavior, golden retriever! reader, ambiguous ending

Summary! at some point something fell from earth and crashed into earth. A new hero rises up in the city of Metropolis and catches the eye of Earth’s Mightiest Defenders, and it ends up getting a bit too far.

Part 2 (Coming Soon!)

don’t ask about the timeline or anything call it an au where endgame doesn’t happen :D

Somewhere in Kansas a space shuttle fell to earth. It was never found, but the couple said to be incapable of having children had a child, and a dog too.

A child that was above from normal. That being you. An alien from the planet Krypton that had died. You and your dog, Krypto being the only one of your kind.

The last surviving Kryptonians.

Your new parents were a joy to have. You loved them and they raised you very protectively, and in return you cared for them.

With your strength, and Krypto you helped save your city Metropolis for the first time. The massive billionaire Lex Luthor caused massive damage and almost killed a bunch of people if not for you.

Dressed in blue and red you were a symbol of hope. The S across your chest being a family crest. One of the last of your parents own existence.

The people loved you, and you find the world was interested in you. A hero that came out of nowhere.

And certainly you were loved. Nick Fury couldn’t deny the need to get you on the team of train wrecks.

In fact, it could all be seen all the way to a Spider Boy who could only look at the footage in awe. The hero was someone who Peter Parker aimed to be.

Beside him was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch who looked on with awe in her eyes as well. As a woman who’s gone after bad thing after bad thing she couldn’t help but want goodness.

You were goodness. She could feel it, even if it was through a video.

Tony was apprehensive but even so he never seen someone so good. It was like you never faced horror ever. Your kindness and not a hint of showing off, or playing around while fighting.

Determination.

Captain America; Steve Rogers saw himself in you. Goodness that he could never achieve. One that smiled despite it all, while somberness swallowed him into a boastful mouth.

Bucky would have to agree. He was smiling once back then, and you were literal sunshine. A smile on those lips with such natural strength, and treating civilians with such kindness.

Thor found you adorable, and could feel that you were worthy of his hammer. Even through videos of you he felt like you were worthy. Absolutely beautiful he also thought. What man could fly through the air so gracefully like that. Without a care, and just as quick.

Natasha and Clint admired you. Albeit maybe it was a sense of something they never got. A man who hadn’t ever killed in his life, and was smiling. A sense of light they never got, and there you were.

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

Bruce felt wary but you were strong. No anger seemed to be in your body. Surely yes you seemed angry at Lex Luthor but that was for obvious reasons. You weren’t always angry like him. Angry only when necessary, unlike him.

Control of yourself is what you had.

A semblance of this world is that it was corrupt. A source of true good like you, and while you weren’t of them you believed in good.

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

So when you’re recruited they aimed to make sure you’d ease into that reality. When offered the chance you jumped at it.

Imagine the surprise when Krypto arrived by your side. The avengers were no less taken aback and flustered.

You smiled big and wide. Nothing to hide and kind to them all.

Unbeknownst to you the immediate thought of you changed. A being that was good and needed to be protected. This group had been through terrible things, and it brought them down.

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

Peter remembered the days when people knew of him, and how in those last moments back then he almost committed true murder.

They hid it well.

Steve would greet you with open arms and a welcoming smile, “Welcome to the team!” He would pat you on the shoulder. He would blink when it felt like metal.

You would laugh brightly, and saying a lot of people said that. Although it wasn’t like you were gonna say you were an alien. Not yet anyway.

They would find out anyway. Thanking Wanda for that, for she read your mind.

Imagine the wonder Peter had when he talked to you. Over the years now that he was Spider-Man he had lost his once happy attitude in being a hero.

You a little older than him was still hopeful, and hadn’t started as a teenager. You were hopeful and Peter couldn’t help but admire you. That smile; the one he lost and you still had it.

You can’t blame him when he stole one of your notebooks. The pages had tons of notes of your perceived faults and self-hatred. Don’t blame him when he shows Steve and Tony.

Don’t mind the confusion when the entire team is praising you more than usual. Any time you lift something instead of the Hulk Bruce smiles. His anger dismissed and he’s praising you despite his shy nature.

Don’t be surprised when you get hurt and spit blood that you get tested by the scientist. Tony even going as far as tweaking your suit to make sure you’re more protected. It was sweet, but useless venture to say you didn’t need it.

Of course you needed it. You were young, and even had fewer experience than Peter. You had no idea what you were talking about. Bruce and Tony were older.

They knew better, and told you that.

Naively, you shrugged it off. Krypto would only tilt his head at the them, and albeit he became much more close to you.

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

Once or twice Krypto would stare at her. ‘Try it.’ The dog was protective and a nuisance. He could feel the darkness. The woman was more susceptible to the darkness. The obsession of getting you to herself.

The others so far, Bruce and Tony already got hands on you when you got injured. Although never really seemed to look into your mind. What if you got brain damage?

She could fix it. Her magic would change it from affecting you. Peter had too much time with you. She was more your age, so you should be with her.

In a way you reminded her of Vision. Kind and understanding. Normalcy that she begged for and clung to.

Maybe she could change the dog but you would notice. It would make you sad, and she didn’t want that. Surely she was wanting you to herself, but your happiness also mattered.

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

The two who have killed before were floored with the kindness. With the protectiveness you gave them.

In act of almost being killed you rang over them with your huge size and protecting them in the blast. Your scream of pain was loud in their ears.

Thor heard it loud and clear. The enemy was on the floor in seconds. Too brutal for normal, and you questioned Thor.

The god gave an excuse that you completely fell for. Too sweet and naive for this world. A sheltered kid in the Midwest fields, with protective parents.

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

Thor couldn’t tell you that he almost aimed to kill the attacker.

Natasha would share a look with him.

They knew. Murder was out of the question, but when you screamed like that they knew that maybe maiming was the move. Clint would talk to you as the two discussed what to do with the assailant.

Hearing the news Bucky would want to check over your wounds. There were none but it didn't stop him from getting those mental fingers on your bare skin.

You would shiver. Cold against your warm skin. Shining like the sun Bucky would think. Steve would look too.

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

Kryptonite was horrible. Lex Luthor's laugh haunted them. You on the floor and holding your chest. Blood flowing from your mouth and a bullet in your chest.

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

And so when you awake from your slumber don't ask about the disappearance of Lex Luthor. Don't ask why you can't hear his distinct heat beat.

Don't ask your still on bed rest, and Krypto is so much more hostile towards everyone now. Wary of Wanda and her glares to your dog.

Don't ask why Bruce's lingering touch stayed.

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

Don't bother with the protective members who've been known to kill before to be so close to you.

Don’t tell Peter to leave your side. Don't ask Steve to stop defending your city, Metropolis.

All the avengers ask of you is to keep that smile on your face no matter how confused you are.

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.

Delusional Yandere Elf

Quick colored sketch to show his colors

/neutral

Shout out to this man in particular

FAMILIARITY

absolute trinity x reader | sfw

CW! gn! reader, slight angst, character x reader romantically involved, multiverse shenanigans, drabbles, spoilers for absolute comics

Summary! Absolute Trinity meeting their s/o from the mainstream universe

BATMAN

"Bruce..."

His name was soft off your lips. The heat was hot on her skin as you looked up at the tank of a mine in front of you. The Batman from your home was less big, actually a lot.

"You know me...?" His voice felt hostile. Albeit it wasn't your Bruce it was him. He was big and still handsome. "You’re different from where I know you." You smiled at him.

He was still confused it seemed.

"You can take off your mask, Bruce." You asked hesitantly.

"How can I trust you?" His lips morphed into a scowl.

You faltered but you raised your head, “I’m not sure what’ll make you trust me, but I do know your parents would be very proud of you. I know that, and my version of you knows that. Even if he doubts it.”

Bruce stared at you blankly. His giant hand raised to bull down his cowl to reveal a very young man with still some wonder in those eyes. Short black hair and baggy eyes.

You stepped forward and cradling his face between you hands. Bruce didn’t know why but he allowed you himself to lean down for you.

“You’ve been working hard.” You smiled quite sadly, “Things never change do they.” You said it like it was a fact instead of question.

He titled his head with narrowing eyes. “The other you is rich, but also just as sad. He works so hard and is always blaming himself. Doing everything to make sure Gotham thrives. Things never change.”

He nodded. His blue eyes blanking as they stared at you. Only seeing love in those eyes of yours. No matter what he’s done, or perhaps violent, whether it was him or the other him you’d love him.

“He treats you good?”

“Always. He cares too much, so much it’ll kill him if he’d ever to lose me or anyone else he cares about.” You reassured.

Bruce found himself thinking that when he met his world’s you he’d protect you too. If this was you and your original then he’d protect you too.

Yeah, he couldn’t lose anyone else otherwise he’d lose it too.

WONDER WOMAN

“Woah you’re so tall and pretty!” You giggled when looking up at the woman with flowing dark hair, blue eyes, and red tattoos.

Diana, but not your Diana. Someone who belonged to the darkness, but good. She was intimidating but she was warm like the sun. Just like your Diana.

“Why thank you.” It was her, definitely. “You’re not from here. You came through with magic. May I ask how that happened?” She mused with a tiny laugh as you got a look at her prosthetic arm.

“A man named Savage made a device that sent people to different universes. It broke in the fight and I got sucked in.”

You played with the parts of your hero costume as you stared up at her tall stature. “My Diana, she tried to save me but couldn’t reach me.” You thought of your Wonder Women.

Just as beautiful and dressed in blue,yellow, red, and white. Flowing black hair and her blue eyes. She looked like a goddess and looked like light.

“My Diana? Another version of me, good [ ]?”

“Yes, my Diana is a lot less dressed in darkness and born in Paradise Island, a land full of women called Amazons.” You noted how she froze when she heard you speak.

You wavered over her expression. “You aren’t from Themyscira. From Hell maybe?”

“How did you figure it?” Diana’s brows were up to her forehead as you giggled. “You’re whole getup kinda screams hell. But you’re still my Diana. I can see that.”

Diana hadn’t met you in her reality. She hoped you existed here, and was just as kind as you.

A smile that made you shine like the sun. A sun that Diana only experienced when she arrived her on Earth.

“I see. Well I’m glad your perception is of me being evil.” She summed up. Her arms bulking as she crossed her arms. Your eyes glittered in excitement as she did so.

“Of course, because no matter how my Diana looks I’ll always love her.” The heat from your cheeks were loud. Diana couldn’t deny the flush of her cheeks.

Truly you were the birth of the Gods. A treasure she would protect; in every universe and any version of you.

SUPERMAN

Clark, or Kal-El floating in the air with blue eyes that were haunting. He didn’t give off that golden retriever aura like you were so used to.

He wasn’t all that huge, and this Superman was lean yet fit. Those eyes weren’t all that calming but haunting. Bright gold was shining off of his suit. Long hair and fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw.

He was distant.

So unlike your Kal-El. In fact there was no Clark Kent. Simply the his Kyrptonian identity.

If was it was there then it was nonexistent.

Suddenly you felt a red cape surround you. Kal-El coming down and wrapping it around you. Your clothes were ripped. How you got here, but all you knew is that a machine by Gorilla Grodd broke and here you were.

That last memory being Clark being too late in saving you. Tears flowing from his eyes as you escaped into a blue light, and here you were.

“Kal-El…”. You shakily spoke.

“You know me?” He spoke. His voice still as he stared at you blankly. His mind twisting in gears. “Yes, but not mine. I can see that. I’m not from here.” You looked around to see the torn down buildings.

“You’re so much different from my Kal-El. My Superman is much more smiley, but I can see there’s goodness in you.” You looked hopeful into your eyes.

“This world is ugly. Some of these humans are ugly.”

His words made you still. Kal-El looked at you when he felt you falter. Shock in your eyes. That expression fatally fell to a sad smile.

“This world has been cruel to you.” Your hand drifted to his face. He didn’t know why but he allowed himself to melt into your touch. “But you still want to help. Humans are horrible but still fighting will make a difference.”

His expression seemed somewhere else. Like he was hearing someone else’s voice. Blue eyes flickering everywhere for anyone around you two. They came back to you and looking your eyes, locking eyeballs.

A hopeful look in them, “In your world, is it good?”

“Yes, and evil. But we do our best because even the tiniest effort can make the difference, Kal-El.” You gave him a smile. Cupping his face to which he melted.

A loud explosion was heard from elsewhere. Immediately you found yourself in his chest. His suit feeling different, and not made out of cloth like your Superman.

Kal-El made up his mind. Until you could return back to your universe he would protect you. Your world needed your goodness, and so did his other version.

After all it was true. Even if his suit said otherwise. Because maybe a world can be saved from themselves.

Just one step at a time.

Hello! Idk if the request is open but I have some idea if you'd like to write, Liu Kang x goddess! Reader? While Liu Kang protects the earth, the reader protects the galaxy and barely visit earth to the point that she forgot that she haven't visit Liu Kang for more than just 1 year :D

(I'm sorry for the bad English) 💔💔💔

FOR EVERMORE

liu kang x reader | sfw

CW! female reader, romantic leaning, distant relationship, light angst but fluff galore

Summary! In events of the Mortal Kombat in Outworld you visit Earth. Only then do you realize just how much you’ve missed out, especially with Liu Kang, who’s missed you dearly

thank you for the request!

From your peak as a Omni Present being you saw everything. From where you were you could see that the age of Mortal Kombat was to begin.

Unfortunately from here you could never view it close. Your job was to watch over and not really interact.

However, still you made contact with them.

Across every timeline you were alone, and then he created a new universe; Liu Kang. The man was the guardian of Earth Realm.

He showed you knew things, and even let you create how the world was shaped.

You’re existence of goddess that has lived since ancient times and watching over everything he allowed your input.

Then throughout that time of building a universe you became close. Something more brewed in your hearts, and suddenly a bind between god and goodness was made.

Unfortunately duty calls so you took your place as the galaxy’s protector while he protected his humans, his friends.

Only then had you realized you missed him a lot. And was looking for some excitement. As a goddess of the galaxy you were lonely. So down you went to earth, to Earth Realm.

Arriving in a gown yet also fit for fighting. Looking like a true goddess amongst all the recruits.

People looking at you.

Four you recognized making with Liu Kang. Johnny Cage, ever the flirt. You enjoyed sculpting him.

Kenshi Takahashi, for he was a sad case. Perhaps the loss of his eyes would be lessened.

Raiden, a god previously that you had quite a good relationship with. It killed you that you were held back from helping and not losing his godhood.

Unfortunately things like that happened and couldn’t be taken back. Kronika warped it so that you couldn’t help.

You were glad someone like Liu Kang was Lord of this world. Glad he allowed you to help and hope something like that would never become again.

Then Kung Lao; the poor thing. You wondered just how sad Liu Kang felt every time he looked at him. It wasn’t his best friend but it was.

“Who’s that hot babe?”

“Johnny!”

You giggled hearing the exchange between Johnny and Kenshi. Kung Lao and Raiden stood still watching in awe.

“She’s like a goddess.” Kung Lao sung dumbfounded.

“Indeed I am, Kung Lao.” You patted his shoulder. His face erupted in red seeing you were in front of him right now.

“You know him?” Raiden asked. Kenshi and Johnny now looking at you with just as wide eyes.

“I know all of your. Goddess of the Universe and Galaxy, [ ] at your service.” You giggled seeing their expressions. It’s not everyday you meet a god with such powerful abilities.

Your name was loudly expressed from somewhere else. Turning you saw Liu Kang looking at you.

“Hello my love. Long time no see?” A wave you gave him. “Continue as you were.” You bowed to the students and up to Liu Kang.

He took her hand and pulled you away into the temple, away from everyone that could possibly see you.

“You’re here.” Liu Kang whispered when he turned to you. His hands holding yours increasingly tight. As if you’d go away if he let go.

“Liu Kang? What’s wrong? I’m not going anywhere?”

So easy of you. As a goddess of the universe you were able to read people extremely well. Liu Kang sighed with a soft smile.

“My dear I’m trying to relish this time with you. I’m afraid that it’ll be a long time before I see you ever again.” Sadness was true in your voice.

In confusion you tilt your head. “Huh?”

His brows went up at your reaction. That sadness was mixed with admiration. “Silly you. Your sense of time is different from mine, isn’t it?”

“All that time alone in the universe rolls differently than here.”

Then everything clicked for you.

Hesitantly you asked; “How long has it been since you last saw me?” Your head going down slightly and looking up at him. Your own hands tightening on his.

“About 50 years my dear.”

You gasped. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed your worries away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Your job is very important, and your sense of time is different too.”

You looked at him with hopeful eyes, “You mean it?”

“Yes, my love.” Liu Kang pulled you into a hug. Your robes and gown flowing like waterfall against his own clothing. Skin against skin that hadn’t touched for years.

“I’ll try to visit more.” You promised, determined.

“Yes, but don’t ignore your work.” Liu Kang said amused.

“I won’t!” You said quite proudly.

You two never did remove from the embrace right now. Forever trying to partake in this moment. Savor it until its fullest because again, when would he see you again. When would you see him again.

Only time could tell and right now this moment mattered.

Bruce: *putting superman to shame with his workout routine*

Clark: Hey Bruce, is everything okay? Did Bane get out again?

Bruce, without pausing: I tried to pick Jason up last week but I ended up dropping him. I need to get stronger so I can carry all of my kids >:(

South Peanuts

(It’s also my first time drawing Sparky! :D)

ALONE WITH ME

anya x reader | sfw

CW! gn reader, referenced s@, jimmy bashing, hurt comfort, ambiguous ending, pre-crash, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, Drabble

Summary! instead of coming to curly with what happened anya confides in you about what happened to her.

“Can I talk to you.”

Anya asked you with a blank stare. You blinked and nodded with a smile, “Sure what is it?”

You noticed her eyes flicker to Jimmy who was talking with Captain Curly. There was something in Anya’s eyes but then dismissed it and grabbed your hand.

“Anya?” You said a little louder than normal, and it caught the attention of Curly and Jimmy. Anya spared nothing and sped you guys to the medbay.

You were surprised to see her close and lock the door.

“Anya? What’s going on?” You asked hesitantly. Fiddling with the sleeve of your uniform you watched her body language. Anya was figidty and struggled to meet your eyes.

She looked closed to tears.

“Hey it’s okay… Can I touch you?”

She shivered at your words. Her eyes looking up at you and nodded. Slowly you held her hands and staring at her with soft eyes. “It’s okay. What is it, Anya?”

Her voice trembled, “uh…night before something happened to me.”

Her body was tense and trembling as she continued to articulate what she was gonna say.

“Jimmy, he came into my room and…”

Your gasp cut her off. Immediate anger filled you and then sadness. “Oh Anya.” Your hands tightened on to hers. “A hug?”

She immediately took your offer. You two held each other in an embrace. On the bed you held her. Anya’s head on your chest as she cried her loving heart.

“We can talk to Curly, and we’ll see what we can do about that asshole.” You subtly growled saying the monster’s name.

“What if Curly doesn’t do anything? He and Jimmy are friends.” She whimpered.

“The birthday party; you saw how Jimmy was…” You titled your head to see her becoming more teary eyed.

“I’m pregnant.”

Your eyes went wide. “Mother fucker.” You cursed lowly. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll beat that fucker, or maybe throw him out into space.”

Your hands went through her black locks. “It’ll be okay. We’ll convince Captain Curly, even tell Daisuke and Swansea, and we can deal with him.”

Your hands cupped her face, “it’ll be okay. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you again. If no one does anything then I’ll be the one to kill the bastard…”

“Even without Captain Curly’s permission.”

❝DOCTOR I CAN’T TELL IF I’M NOT ME.❞

-   ͙۪۪̥˚┊BATFAM X NEGLECTED!HEALER!READER ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 

There is only one thing you ever truly wished for in this life: a purpose.

Something that would justify your existence, that would give meaning to every breath, every wound, every sleepless night.

And you found it. Not in an empty promise or in the affection of others. You found it in your own power.

A selfish desire, yes, but undeniably yours. A purpose born not out of love, but out of need.

From that strange power growing inside you, the one that forced you to look at others’ suffering with cold, almost cynical eyes. As if every wound were a problem only you could solve. As if every scream of pain were a prayer meant solely for you.

You clung to that.

To the idea that your worth existed only in your abilities.

The ability to stop someone from dying in front of you. To rip death from their body with your own hands. To stitch broken flesh with threads that hurt, yes, but worked. That was the only thing that ever made you feel alive. The only thing that ever made you feel alive, needed.

For a while, it was enough.

For a long while, you were selfish.

It didn’t matter if they used you. It didn’t matter if it hurt. If every healing left another scar on you. If every salvation cost you a little more of the little you had left.

As long as you could keep doing it—healing, fixing, protecting— the price didn’t matter.

Because at the end of the day, you could lie down on that mattress of emptiness and tell yourself: “Today, I made it worth it.”

Your existence and your power meant something.

Of course, you didn’t have a mother to share secrets with, nor guardians who offered you love. Only faces that came and went, and the bitter understanding that you were just another burden in a broken system.

Until, by some twisted stroke of fate, you had the “pleasure” of meeting your biological father.

Bruce Wayne.

Billionaire. Philanthropist. Playboy.

Batman.

Even so, none of that really mattered to you. What truly hit you was learning that you had to leave everything behind and go to Gotham.

That cursed city, that concrete jungle drowned in darkness and crime. Where dreams go to die and bodies, if they’re lucky, go to sleep.

Gotham wasn’t a home. It was a prison for someone like you. A place where meta-humans like you were enemies, threats, problems to be contained.

Your power, your only purpose, was stripped away with nothing more than a change of zip code.

And that was the cruelest part of all.

Not being able to use it.

Not being able to save.

Not being able to be useful.

Your existence, reduced to ashes, like the bodies of those you didn’t reach in time.

It must be poetic, right? The healer who cannot heal. The savior without faith.

They hate you. You've felt it. That visceral resentment from those who survived because of you, but still blame you for what you couldn’t stop. Screams, stares, choked pleas— all of them pierced your soul deeper than any weapon ever could.

For someone who once swore to save lives, it’s only natural that those you vowed and wanted to save now express their utter disgust and despair toward the false, horrific salvation you once offered them.

And now? Now you live among strangers.

An immense mansion full of absences. With brothers who seemingly don’t recognize you, and a father who doesn’t see you.

Your arrival in Gotham wasn’t exactly ideal, at least, that’s how you think you remember it.

It’s hard for you to remember that moment. You don’t hold on to unnecessary memories… none of it will make you feel alive again.

Apparently, your new father figure has several children. Some of them are already adults. With lives of their own far from the mansion, you don’t know much about them, they were almost always too busy to say anything to you.

You can’t understand them, can’t they come up with better excuses? You don’t want these people’s attention.

These people can’t help you with your abilities. They can’t make you believe you’re still allowed to use them freely.

No, these people are just strangers who stumbled into your life overnight and want nothing to do with the problem. Not even your new father had the decency or responsibility to try forming a bond with you.

Bruce Wayne was an absent father. Not in the way someone leaves and disappears completely, but in the kind of absence that feels stronger the closer the person is. A hollow physical presence, like a ghost made of flesh and bone. One who could look you in the eyes and still not see you.

He struggled to communicate, to make time for you, to even remember that there was now one more occupied room in that massive mansion of his.

He doesn’t know how to deal with you, and you don’t know how to deal with him either. At first, you wondered if the problem was you. If you had done something wrong. If the way you talked, walked—even breathed, was so bothersome that he’d rather bury himself in work than give you an hour of his time.

But soon, you realized something even crueler: You don’t need a father. You’re not looking for one. You’re not waiting for one.

What you need is a patient. Someone you can heal. Someone who needs you.

Because that’s what you’ve always done. Heal. And Bruce… Bruce simply refuses to be healed.

But he doesn’t understand.

When you approach him, when you seek him out, when you try to speak to him, all he does is throw up a wall made of cold words, as practical and impersonal as that damn business suit of his.

“I’m busy.”

“Not now.”

“We’ll talk later.”

“It’s for work.”

Always the same. Always excuses with the bitter taste of indifference.

Is this what having a father is supposed to feel like? Because if it is, then it doesn’t feel any different from your days in foster care.

At least there, you knew you were alone. Here, they make you believe you’re not… but you are, more than ever.

You’ve learned to observe the details, as always. It’s one of the few things you’re good at, aside from using your power.

You notice the tired look in his eyes, the dark circles underneath, the way his fingers tense around his pen like he’s trying to crush it. The stack of papers on his desk never gets smaller, it’s like it multiplies just to keep you at a distance.

And the subtle changes… that lower tone in his voice when he sees you, like he can’t even be bothered to raise it for you. The way his eyebrows furrow, not out of anger, just… annoyance. Irritation.

That’s what hurt the most.

So you stopped trying. Because if you kept going, you were only going to be reprimanded by the one you were supposed to please. You convinced yourself that you don’t need his approval. That you don’t need his love. That you’re better off without him.

But then, why is it that every time you walk past his office, you pause for a second, hoping that door opens, just once, without you knocking first?

Why do you still need him to see you?

Richard Grayson is the eldest. The first adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Everyone sees him as a beacon of hope, the moral compass of this family made of shadows and scars. And it makes sense. He has that bright smile, that genuine warmth the others can barely fake. He gives out hugs without being asked, listens patiently, laughs easily, and has that absurd gift of making anyone feel seen, at least, if you’re one of his.

Because with you, it was always different.

From the beginning, Richard seemed kind. Seemed. But between that warmth and you, there was always a distance, like someone had drawn a curtain between the two of you. You heard his apologies more than you heard his actual voice.

“Sorry, I have to head out right now.”

“Sorry, I was already on my way to Blüdhaven.”

“Next time, I promise.”

He was always rushing. Always busy. Always somewhere else. And you… you’re not someone who believes in empty promises.

At first, you thought it was just bad luck. That maybe if you insisted a little, if you found an excuse, if you caught him in the kitchen, he might stay for five minutes. Just five. But those minutes never came. And you started to notice a pattern. How his demeanor shifted the moment you walked into the room. How his smile became more diplomatic. More rehearsed. How his footsteps sped up when he thought you weren’t watching.

You didn’t want to admit it at first, but something inside you began to whisper an uncomfortable truth; He was avoiding you.

And then you understood. If Richard Grayson, the kindest, the most human, the most "big brother" of them all, couldn’t be around you, then what was the point of trying with the others? What could you possibly expect from Jason, who barely speaks to you? From Tim, who seems more invested in his computer than in actual people? From Damian, who can barely tolerate his own shadow?

So you did the same. You avoided them. One by one. You decided it wasn’t worth it. That if you weren’t going to be a real part of this family, you weren’t going to pretend.

It’s easier that way. It doesn’t hurt as much if you’re the one walking away first.

But sometimes, when you see them laughing together from the staircase, or hear Richard speaking so fondly of the others, a part of you wonders if it was ever really your choice to walk away, or if they’d been leaving you behind from the very beginning.

Your suspicions didn’t take long to confirm. All it took was talking to a few of your supposed brothers to realize the pattern repeated itself.

Jason, Tim, Damian…

Each one was a story unto themselves. Each one was a maze of traumas, masks, and poorly calibrated emotional responses. But if you had to describe them in one word, it would be: inaccessible.

The second of your brothers was Jason, and from what little you could gather, because no one seemed eager to talk about it much, Jason had died. And then he came back. It wasn’t a metaphor. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He had been buried, and now he was not. That simple statement was enough to provoke a morbid curiosity, almost scientific. What had changed in his body? Did he suffer from partial necrosis? Brain damage? Did his muscles regenerate? What residual effects did resurrection have on human physiology? Everything in you screamed to investigate. To dissect. To understand.

It was a dangerous thought. You knew that. You repeated it to yourself like a mantra: too tempting for your own good.

But what confused you the most wasn’t his condition, it was his behavior toward you. Jason had this aura of latent violence, like dynamite that could explode with the wrong spark. But that wasn’t what kept you away. Not entirely. It was his inexplicable rejection.

You didn’t understand it. You didn’t provoke him. You didn’t talk to him, you didn’t interfere, you didn’t cross the line. And yet, his gaze was always sharp. As if your mere presence triggered something in him. Irritation. Annoyance. Maybe even disdain.

You wondered if it was your fault. If the way you were, the way you spoke, the way you were, simply bothered him. But you couldn’t find an answer. And though you wanted to, you knew that getting closer would be too risky.

Because you’ve seen the broken walls. The misaligned doors. The tables split in two like they were made of paper. You’ve felt the tension in the air when Jason enters a room and isn’t in the mood. And you know, without needing confirmation, that his punches aren’t soft. That his rage doesn’t distinguish between the guilty and the witnesses.

So, you avoid him.

Not out of fear exactly, but out of caution. Self-preservation. You don’t want to be the next crack in the walls of this house.

Tim was a different kind of strange. More than Jason, though in a completely different way. His oddity didn’t stem from aggression or visible trauma. It was more subtle. More internal.

Almost clinical.

You observed him, like you observe everything. With that gaze of yours that searches for patterns, inconsistencies, vulnerabilities. And in him, you found many.

Surprisingly, Tim was brilliant. Not just "smart for his age," but one of those cases where the brain moves faster than the body. Too fast. So much so, that sometimes it seemed like his body gave up halfway through.

The dark circles under his eyes were a constant. His responses were slow, as if they had to pass through a filter of a thousand thoughts before being verbalized. He walked like his mind was too heavy for his spine to carry. A shadow carrying ideas. You were surprised he hadn’t fainted yet from the combination of insomnia, chronic stress, and mild malnutrition.

No one asked you.

No one thanked you.

But still, you started leaving him food. Food that could sustain him without causing a stomach collapse. Nothing too obvious, of course. A yogurt here. Cut fruits there.

Something easy to eat between keystrokes. You allied yourself with Alfred in that small act of silent intervention. The old butler seemed to notice, but he never mentioned it. And you never confirmed it.

Tim would probably assume it was all Alfred’s doing. In fact, you counted on it.

Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you knew that if he suspected you were behind something so... "thoughtful," it would only make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to respond to care, to the intention behind such detail. Tim doesn’t know how to handle it if that sincere gesture comes from you.

Just like you would if any of them ever tried it with you.

Alfred... Alfred is a different matter.

Of all the people in the house, he’s the only one who acts like your existence isn’t a miscalculation. But he doesn’t fool himself. He doesn’t offer you love, or tenderness. He offers you structure. Routine. Measured phrases and cups of tea.

It’s not affection between you. It’s a sort of tacit alliance. Two functional people in the middle of a broken ecosystem.

You know he tries. But you also know it’s not enough for you.

You’ve seen children like you. In hospitals. In refugee camps. In temporary homes. Children who cling to an adult figure as if their life depended on it, and are then destroyed when that figure leaves. Or worse, when they stay but stop looking.

You don’t want that for yourself.

You convince yourself this is better. A working relationship. A dynamic where each one fulfills their role and no one crosses the line into the personal. Because if you get attached, if you let yourself believe this could mean something...

You know how that ends. They can’t give you what you’re looking for.

They can’t give you purpose.

They can’t return what was taken from you when you understood that your value only exists if you can heal, if you can serve, if you can be useful.

You still don’t know who you are when you’re none of that.

Back to the subject of your "family," the last on the list of who your siblings were, was Damian.

The youngest of the group. The second biological son of Bruce Wayne.

You said it out loud once, casually: "Ah, so he is the real one."

No one found it funny.

Unlike the others, Damian didn’t need time to show you that you weren’t welcome. He didn’t bother to fake courtesy or neutrality. From the beginning, he made it clear that your existence was expendable.

Maybe it was your silence. Maybe it was your lack of reaction to his provocations. Maybe he just didn’t like you. But he pointed his katana at you the first month you arrived.

The blade against your neck wasn’t a metaphor. It was real, cold, intimidating contact. You felt a thread of power activate instinctively in your body, a reflex of defense, of desperation. If you had let it go, well, you wouldn’t be here, mentally recalling this account.

You didn’t. Not for him. For you.

Because it wasn’t worth it. Because using your power on someone in your “family” would mean admitting they were important enough to hurt you.

They weren’t. Not yet.

You can’t risk being discovered. No one can know that you actually have this power. None of them can know.

Bruce appeared just in time to prevent the confrontation from escalating. Did he protect you? Not exactly. He simply said something like, “Damian has a complicated history,” as if that justified a death threat in the family kitchen.

Is it common in Gotham to justify a child’s homicidal impulses if they've had a difficult childhood?

That was your question. You didn’t ask it out loud. No one would have liked the answer.

It was also that day you found out that Damian was Bruce’s biological son. And you couldn’t help but think about the irony of it all.

The same Bruce Wayne who, in the public eye, was a scandalous figure, a charming, charismatic playboy billionaire with endless parties, had exactly one biological child. One. Not five. Not a legion of illegitimate children scattered across the world. Just one.

That kid turned out to be a ticking time bomb with a traditional sword.

Everything fit so perfectly wrong that it almost seemed planned.

With the girls, it's complicated. Maybe even more so because, deep down, a part of you thought they could be different.

Stephanie. She was like a female version of Richard, a constant smile, a vibrant energy that everyone seemed to adore, except you.

She greeted you with empty enthusiasm, one that never went beyond the surface. It was easy to see that behind her good mood, there was a locked door she wasn’t going to open for you.

And you understood. Because you'd seen it before.

People who act as if everyone is welcome, except you.

Stephanie was just another confirmation that no matter how hard you tried to fit in, this home was already full. You weren’t in the original plan. You never were.

Barbara, on the other hand, was simpler. She was hardly ever at the mansion. You’d see her sporadically, a red ghost in the shadows of fleeting visits. And still, in that limited time, she always found a way to smile at others, share a joke, a quick conversation, a knowing glance… Never with you.

Not once.

It was as if your presence went by unnoticed, not even worth including out of courtesy.

Cassandra was the most honest, in a way. She didn’t pretend. She didn’t smile. She didn’t speak.

She ignored your attempts to help with almost admirable efficiency. You could attribute it to her trauma, her history, her way of seeing the world… but that excuse starts to wear thin when it’s the only one left to justify everything.

Maybe you’re just not interesting. Maybe you don’t even stand out enough to be actively rejected.

Or is it because you don’t even deserve her attention?

It was easier to believe that they all had a reason not to see you.

Easier than admitting that maybe, you weren’t that hard to ignore.

What was dangerous about this family wasn’t the weapons, nor the katanas, nor the fists that had broken ribs more than once.

It was the mask.

It took you time to understand it. First, it was a hunch. Then a suspicion. Finally, a certainty: they were all vigilantes. Heroes of Gotham. The same ones who make your hands tremble when you try to use your power. The ones who make your gift feel useless. As if it were a mistake rather than a blessing.

The irony is so perfect it could almost make you laugh.

You can’t feel useful, can’t do the one thing you know how to do perfectly, because you’re surrounded by those who fight so that people and beings like you are neither necessary nor welcome.

And yet, you prefer them this way.

Cold. Distant. Detached. Unknown. Because connections are dangerous. Because memories weigh. Because at some point, someone taught you that affection is the hook that precedes the pain.

Because you know it better than anyone. When you get attached to someone, it’s not just pain that you feel when you lose them. It’s as if a part of you dies too. Not because you lose them, but because without your power, without that “usefulness,” you feel like you never deserved to have them in the first place.

In Gotham, you can’t do anything.

You can't heal.

You can't save.

You can't be useful.

You can't be loved. Or at least, that’s what they taught you to believe.

Here, you have no parts left that you can afford to lose. Not while you're trapped in this city that doesn’t need what you can give. A family that doesn't know what to do with you. You don’t know what to do with yourself either.

They can’t give you a purpose.

They never could.

They didn’t even try.

You expected so little, that not even that surprised you.

Until you found him.

The only living person who not only recognized your power, but accepted it for what you wanted it to be:

A miracle.

He called himself Doctor Masashi. A kind voice, a serene figure. But behind that calmness was surgical precision. He knew exactly how to shape you. How to rebuild you, only to destroy you again with elegance.

He was the only one who never lied to you about what you were:

A weapon.

A tool.

A precious jewel that only shines when it bleeds for others.

A perfect puppet.

And you, grateful for the strings.

He gave you direction when all you had was guilt.

He gave you structure when all you had was emptiness.

He gave you… meaning. A cruel meaning. A conditioned meaning. But still, you took it.

It can't be that bad, right?

Clinging to that.

Clinging to him.

Clinging to something that tells you that you can still be "something."

Because if someone, even just one person, can look at you and say that you are good for something, then you're not broken.

Then you're not alone. Then everything that hurt was worth it.

Even if guilt drowns you every night.

Even if the nightmares never rest.

Even if the hands you tried to save still drag you from their graves, begging for a second death.

It doesn't matter. As long as someone believes that keeping you alive makes sense... then that’s enough.

Right?

Maybe you're a weapon.

Maybe you're selfish.

Maybe you did it all just out of fear of disappearing, for that unbearable need to feel alive.

The need to feel that you matter. To have a place to fit in.

But at least you're something. In this shattered world, that's already more than many have.

But how much more can you take before you truly break? How much longer before you completely crumble, like so many times you did on the inside? How much will the price of his greed cost… and your desperate desire to remain useful?

Because in the end, it wasn't Bruce.

Nor your brothers.

Nor your sisters.

None of them ever knew who you were.

None of them understood.

Only him. Only Masashi.

That’s what scares you the most. Because if even he can make you believe that’s all you’re worth. If even he manages to make you cling to that idea, then maybe, you were never more than that.

Maybe you were never more than your power, and in Gotham, where you can no longer use it...

Not even that belongs to you.

When the reclusive billionaire finally enters the spotlight you bet journalists Clark Kent wants to know what pushed him.

This is loosely inspired from the battinson and corenswet’s superman, a possible scene in the batman 2 perhaps? 👀

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL ?

summary : in which Tim's brothers find out he not only has a girlfriend but she's actually real and attractive and idk dating HIM of all people ???

Tim Drake is a busy man , his family knew that I meant come on ?? The kid is Red Robin, juggling Wayne Enterprises , solving cases, and not mention he attends college.

Not in a million years would they guess he of all of them would have a girlfriend and that he of all of them would have a functional relationship before any if them.

It started subtle at first - he'd finish patrol early , not really a big deal since they'd all assume he was busy with school and just had to go home.

Well truns out he was going home just not to do work just to simply have dinner with you.

The next sign was that he had a picture of you at the back of his phone - it's encased safely behind the clear casing . Dick saw it at first and shrugged it off, thinking it was a kpop idol or some model Tim liked alot - nope it was just him being in love with you and just showing it off.

Tim unironically smells better ? Damian doesn't know how to place it - its not that Tim ever smelled bad or had bad hygiene it's just that he's been particularly very into it as of late - he literally even has a skin care routine now but Damian writes it off as Tim being curious or weird.

Tim also starts dressing classier too like he wears good slacks or nice baggy jeans with fitted tops - showing off his slim but muscular figure as of late - he even asked Jason to borrow one of his old leather jackets and hey - Jason didn't mind lending his brother one - he just thought Tim was getting into the grunge style like him. Nope, it turns out Tim overheard you saying guys in leather jackets were hot, so of course, he had to get the real thing.

Flash forward to like a year and a half down the line and one day all three of them were talking about how Tim was glowing up and getting himself in shape .

Dick : " you know Tim's been idk dressing up as of late ".

Damian : " smh it's like he's pathetically trying to impress someone "

Jason : " I thought he was just idk changing his style ?"

Dick : " you think ? Plus he's been ending patrol early lately"

Damian : " he's a nerd Grayson , knowing him he gets home earlier to study or what not ".

Jason : *cackling* " and he wonders why he can't get a girlfriend "

*Tim who just walked in and overheard jason* : " I literally have a girlfriend. What do you mean ?"

Pin drop silence . Everyone stares at him, eye wide and then they burst out cackling.

Jason : " Timmy boy a blow up sex doll doesn't count a girlfriend"

Dick : *laughing* " Tim the day you get a girlfriend is the day the world would end"

Damian : " Timothy, that's the best joke you have ever uttered."

Tim scowls at them , " I LITERALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHES A REAL PERSON"

Damian *still laughing* : " Alright Timothy, let's meet your so-called very real girlfriend."

Flash forward to two hours later and they're at a local Lego shop at the mall , the batboys are all confused .

Jason : " Tim, when we said a real girl, we didn't mean a Lego woman figure"

Tim just rolled his eyes - annoyed because he can't fathom why they didn't think he can't have a girlfriend .

Not even two minutes passed, and you bolted out of the store and engulfed Tim in a big hug and began kissing him all over his face. Tim wore a big , smug smile as he wrapped his hand around your waist and pressed you a forehead kiss.

Dick's mouth is too the floor , Jason's eyes just widen so big you'd swear his eyes will roll out and Damian looks like he's gonna hurl.

Damian : " I think - I think I going to die "

Jason *still in shock* : " There is no way this is real - literally no way I've got to be imagining shit "

Dick : " Someone pinch me " *Damian pinches him hard* " OUCH WHAT THE FUCK"

Jason points at you and then at Tim , " Miss is he holding you hostage -"

Tim rolls his eyes , " SHES MY GIRLFRIEND"

Damian tuts , " She's too hot to be with the likes of you she should date someone better "

Dick : " Like me -"

Shutting him down immediately, Tim : " Fuck no"

You awkwardly laughing , " So you're Tim's brothers ?"

Jason : " unfortunately ". *dick nudges him hard* " OW WTF"

You : " It's nice to meet you all I'm Tim's girlfriend "

Dick : " yeah that's the part we are all processing"

Damian : " Are you sure you're not talking about another tim?"

Tim , scowling : " Shut the fuck up demon she said she's my girlfriend so can yall stop being so annoying now "

You : " They didn't think you'd have a girlfriend ?"

Tim : " no and I don't know why especially since they themselves don't have one either "

Jason : " in my offense I died -"

Dick : " Pack it up. It's been 4 years since you came back. You got no excuse "

Jason : " I know the man who has fumbled every relationship he touches is not talking "

Damian : " This is all pointless. Love is stupid and worthless"

As the both continue to bicker back and forth, you turn to Tim with a wide grin , " Who do you think is worse ?"

Tim , pulling you in closer , : " Definitely Bruce "

*in a very far distance*

You laugh as you grab his hand and left him off somewhere , " Let's go get milkshakes".

Bruce *sneezes* : " Someone is trash talking me "

ty for reading !!!

HER PRINCESS

absolute wonder woman x reader | nsfw

CW! fem reader, top diana, magical genitalia, vaginal fingering, girls kissing, soft sex, use of rope, drabble, soft diana, implied future diana/steve trevor/reader

more self indulgent posts bc why not :)

The way she grabbed your thighs so easily and with her strength she pulled you to her. A smile on her lips.

You could see the flashing of red in her normally blue eyes. Diana, a beautiful princess who was the daughter of Circe and the Princess of Hell.

You wondered how you got so lucky.

“Pay attention.”

You listened immediately as her cock made from magic was pressed against you in an experimental way.

It her first time doing this.

The ropes around your wrists stung as you moved in response.

“It’s alright dear.” Her delicate fingers trailed up your opening and in they went. Her ghostly touch was heavenly as she pushed against your walls.

You squealed in response. Calling her name as she readied you. Opening and stretching you wide even with your scrambling legs.

“You’ll injure yourself. Be careful. The rope may hurt you.” She whispered with a smile. You were nodding as you panted. Her fingers still taking every thing you were worth.

You made a small noise as she pulled out her fingers. Those same fingers trailing up your thigh and pulling it out further. Her lips kissed your abdomen.

You easily took her into your arms, and her head resting on your chest. Feeling her naked chest on your stomach as she entered you slowly. Coming up to your face, and her hair tickling your nose.

“Breathe my love. Steve will be coming home soon, and he’d love have you coherent.” She laughed as you whimpered.

She caught your lips as the world dwelled into something beautiful and pleasurable.

Paradise.

Jason and Bruce had an intense fight, which somehow led to an even more intense heart-to-heart

——

Jason: … *feeling awkward since he spilled his guts on how Willis still affects him*

Bruce: … *wringing his hands* I called Alfred Dad once… when I was younger…

Jason: *turns to Bruce* ?

Jason: I mean… yeah? Isn’t he basically your Dad and everything?

Bruce: *chuckles softly* Yeah, now. But definitely not back then.

Bruce: He got so… *closes eyes as he searches for the word* mad at me.

Jason: *in disbelief* Mad??? He got mad??

Bruce: Maybe that’s not the right word, but that's what it felt like. He wouldn’t talk to me for two weeks. And even after, he was… distant.

Jason: That’s so fucking cruel! Why would Alfred…? *Jason scowls but relaxes slightly as Bruce throws an arm over his shoulder and snuggles with him*

Bruce: I wasn’t allowed to go outside yet. It was still too fresh from my parents' death, and being swarmed by the media would be… bad. I was stuck alone in the manor with the only person I could talk to giving me the worst silent treatment of my life.

Bruce: Honestly, some of the things I had to go through in my childhood... I don't know why Alfred did the things that he did, or why I had to go through it. But... it happened.

——

Bruce can feel Jason get angry before he can see or hear it. He can feel how his son’s body tenses up, as if he were moments away from jumping off the couch and storming the manor to search for the old butler.

Bruce squeezed him closer and ran his fingers through Jason’s hair, wincing as he snagged a few unbrushed knots in the tangled mess.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Bruce murmured, unable to suppress the small smile that crept up on his face from the grunt Jason let out, incredibly reminiscent of when Jason was barely up to his waist.

“It’s not,” Jason argued, turning slightly and pushing his face into the crook of Bruce’s neck. “It’s not. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bruce knows that Jason doesn’t mean the questions to sound like accusations, but he winces at the tone anyway. None of his kids can handle being left out of information, even if Bruce deemed it unimportant, like his history with Alfred.

“Alfred was put in a very… difficult position,” Bruce said slowly, tugging gently on one of Jason’s curls. “I’m surprised he kept me. I’m not the easiest person to take care of. You know how I am.”

“That shouldn’t matter if you’re a child.” Jason snapped. “It didn’t matter for you when it was me!” Jason huffed, then paused. “Right? It didn’t matter, did it?”

“I’d go back a trillion and one times to take care of you over and over again. You and all of your siblings.” Bruce chuckled. “But… I wanted you. Wanted all of you. I had a choice. I… I took that away from Alfred.”

Jason grimaces and squeezes Bruce’s hand, pulling his Dad away from the dark thoughts he was bound to fall into.

“Alfred was forced to take care of a traumatized problem child when he only signed up to be a butler. He most likely figured that my parents would shift my custody over to another branch of the family if it came down to it.” Bruce’s fingers twitched with the urge to scratch at his skin, give him something to control, unlike his emotions. “He wasn’t prepared. Who would want to take care of their dead employers' child?”

“But-“

“Alfred is only human, Jay, even if he acts like he’s not,” Bruce said firmly, tilting Jason’s head so he could look into his son’s beautiful green eyes, filled with the determination and need to defend his Dad. “I forgive him. For every mistake that he’s ever made. For all the mistakes he will continue to make. I… I love him, nothing will change that.”

Jason was silent, staring off into the distance as Bruce continued to play with his hair. He turned over what Bruce said in his mind. He could tell that Bruce still hadn’t told him everything, and maybe he never would.

“I forgive you, too.”

“You don’t have to.”

“… yeah. I know.”

As a someone from the Midwest this is true ☝️

I desperately need more fics exploring the fact that Clark was born and raised in the rural midwest, and Bruce was a Jersey rich boy.

Give me Clark taking his shoes off when entering a house, and bringing something to dinner

Give me Bruce being absolutely confused because "what the hell is a potluck"

Give me Clark doing a proper midwest goodbye and Bruce being confused why he hasn't left when he said he was going to go 30 minutes ago and their still talking

(Even better if when Clark first says he's going to go Kon and Jon make no move to leave because they know it's going to be a while)

I think he did it just right

guys i think he overdid it

Can you do Kenshi Takahashi x reader who is a kitsune (a nine-tailed fox which can change shape into human and fox forms)?

WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?

kenshi takahashi x kitsune! reader | sfw

CW! gn reader, can be seen as either romantic or platonic, headcannons, mk1 styled intros

thank you for the request! <3

You: It’s a ponderous thought that you can see despite the setback.

Kenshi: Sento made the difference and helped me regain what I lost.

—

I believe Kenshi would probably dislike you in the beginning, as he did Johnny Cage.

Kitsune are known to be playful and mischievous creatures, and you and Johnny fit that bill. But also wise.

Your very wisdom may entice him into your arms. Even your very cuteness as a fox may do so as well.

In the act of Mortal Kombat you proved useful in stopping Shang Tsung. Your trickery was to be challenged.

He admired that about you, and how you willingly challenged Shang Tsung, and scolded the sorcerer of his treatment of Syzoth.

Your illusions against enemies and mind control truly made things easy for them, especially when Kenshi was still loss

Kitsune were mischievous creatures but they were compassionate. They could ward off evil, and you did that for Kenshi

Somehow he didn’t lie in self pity and loathing his situation; Johnny gave him his sword and took care of him, and you provided him emotional support

-

Kenshi: You’ve been alive for thousands of years.

You: Am I lonely? That’s what you’re thinking isn’t it.

-

Kenshi has felt trapped in his family history, and the Yakuza. You two are the same in some regard.

Your kind in some ways is seemed as troublesome, but you were only protecting yourselves.

Someone who’s lived thousands of years and has been lonely; not knowing who to trust, so you remained by yourself

With this new revelation there’s a new understanding of each other. Learned and have changed since the defeat of Titan Shang Tsung

Developing a close relationship which involves much cute aggression

Your fluffy exterior is perfect for Kenshi’s sense of touch, even with Sento showing him sight he still likes when you use your tails to help him get around

Your sweet like that, and always pout when he doesn’t fall for your sneak attacks anymore

The two of you always are great partners when fighting, because after all a cute little thing with multiple tails and ears, and a blind swordsman

Any individual dumb enough to not hear of your won’t expect much, and it’ll end in their death (probably)

You two are friends, and might as well be a trio with Johnny. Two silly beings that like to mess with Johnny

And Kenshi found that he would have it no other way

This is the story of a wounded Palestinian woman, a reflection of so many of us living in Gaza. Her hijab soaked in blood could be mine—her pain is mine. I am an oppressed and weak woman in Gaza, and I carry unbearable grief. My baby, Qais, was injured in the war, and the hospital refused to treat him because we don’t have the money. I am begging you with all that’s left in me—please help us. Your donation could be the difference between life and death for Qais. He needs urgent care and medicine that we simply cannot afford.

Life in Gaza crushes us every single day:

1. I wait in line for two hours to bring back food to our tent—food that’s barely enough to keep us going.

2. I clean the shoes of strangers in the street—just to earn a little money to buy Qais the medicine he needs.

3. We were turned away from the hospital—they told us no money means no treatment, even for a two-year-old child.

I carry this burden in silence, but I can’t keep going alone. I’m doing everything in my power to save my child, just as countless mothers here are doing for theirs. Without help, I’m afraid I will lose him. Please, donate anything you can—even the smallest amount could buy Qais a dose of medicine, a warm meal, or another chance to live. Share our story. Stand with us. Help me keep my son alive.

Please donate here

Note: Vetted by @gazavetters , my number verified on the list is ( #64 )🍉🇵🇸

My Journey to Escape the War in Gaza

My name is Abdelmajed. I never imagined I’d be sharing my story like this, but life in Gaza has become unbearable. I am a survivor of the war here, and in the blink of an eye, everything I once knew—my home, my safety, my community—was ripped away from me.

The war has transformed Gaza into a graveyard of broken dreams. The buildings that once stood as symbols of life and resilience are now piles of rubble. Every corner is filled with the echoes of explosions. Every moment is shrouded in uncertainty. There is no security. There is no stability. There is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Basic needs have become luxuries. Food is scarce. Clean water is even scarcer. Hospitals are overwhelmed and under-resourced, and there is almost no medical care to be found. Every night, families go to bed hungry, praying they’ll wake up to see another day. The cost of basic necessities has skyrocketed, and it’s become a daily battle just to survive.

I’ve seen things I never thought possible—standing in long lines for a piece of bread, rationing every drop of water, and watching my people suffer in silence. I have lost everything—my home, my safety, my dignity.

Escape from Gaza is my only hope, but it’s almost impossible without financial help. The cost of evacuation is far beyond my means, and without support, I’m trapped in a warzone with no way out.

I’m reaching out to you now, in the hopes that someone, anyone, can help. I am not asking for luxury. I am asking for a chance—just a chance—to live. A chance to escape this never-ending cycle of fear, destruction, and loss. A chance to rebuild my life somewhere safe, where I can begin again, where I can find hope once more.

Chuffed

Help Abdelmajed Escape Gaza and Rebuild His Life

My name is Abdelmajed, and I am a survivor of the war in Gaza. Everything I once knew has been taken away—my home, my safety, and the people

Any amount you can give will help me get closer to safety. Even the smallest donation will make a difference—it could be the lifeline I need to survive. If you are unable to donate, please share my story. The more people who hear it, the better the chance that I can find the support I desperately need.

Your kindness and support mean the world to me. You’re not just helping me escape a war; you’re giving me a chance to live, to rebuild, to breathe again.

Thank you for listening. Thank you for caring.

Vetted by @gazavetters