Vampire Misunderstanding
So! Danny got adopted by Bruce Wayne, but he doesn't know that Bruce is the Batman. He is just supernaturally oblivious to all things Batman related going on in the House.
But he does notice that Bruce leaves home a lot at night, that he doesn't like to go out in the day and often has his parties at night, and once or twice he's caught Bruce with a bit if blood still splattered on his cheek.
So he comes to the only plausible conclusion. Bruce is a Vampire.
He starts trying to hint at the fact that he knows, but doesn't want to just go out and say it. What if Bruce reacts negatively to him knowing? He's dealt with enough Supernatural Beings to know that they don't like other people (and especially other supernatural beings) intruding on their lives.
So Danny decided to subtly hint at it.
He started asking questions like "So hypothetically, how would you deal with having a Garlic Allergy in Gotham?" Or "So if you had very sensitive skin that could sunburn extremely easily, how much cloud cover would you need to go outside?" And "So what's your opinion on a High-Iron Diet?"
Basically just tossing out questions and trying to Guage Bruce's reaction.
He thinks he's doing a good job!
...
Bruce is certain that he has adopted a Vampire.
Danny is a good kid, but he has a few oddities that are hard to ignore.
For one, his skin is constantly Ice Cold, but he never seens to be bothered by it. As if he was an Undead that didn't require Body Heat anymore.
He also seems to like Hanging out in the Graveyard outside, and when asked about it he says that he is comforted by the place. Just like the Vampires he has met in the past, who feel comfortable when surrounded by Death.
And of course the biggest reason for suspicion is the fact that Danny seems to be hinting at it to him.
He keeps asking stuff like "How would you deal with a Garlic Allergy in Gotham?", probably trying to hint that he is a Vampire who can't eat Garlic, or asking about easy to sunburn skin, saying that he is probably not a Daywalker.
Bruce hopes Danny will just come clean about it soon, he doesn't want to intrude upon the kid when he is so obviously nervous about how he will react.
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(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses
Pairing: Geto x reader
Word Count: 1,1k
Synopsis: Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.
Warnings: (y/n) has a really bubbly personality in this, pure fluff and no Geto going berserk
Thank you anon for your cute request 🤍
„Oh, there you are! I searched everywhere for you!”, you shout cheerfully, your steps hollering down the dark alley.
Suguru would recognize that oh so sweet voice out of a million, his heartbeat picking up in an instant. It’s you. You’re really here.
“What are you doing here, (y/n)?”, he questions softly.
“Well, I don’t know. I had to steal myself away since Yaga-sensei strictly forbid me to run after you again while you’re on a mission. He said something about getting hurt or killed…But that doesn’t stop me! I brought you something salty to eat!”, you announce proudly, stretching out your hand with a little package inside it.
“Did you really come all the way here just to give me that? You don’t have to gift me something to eat. And on top, you don’t need to get yourself in danger for something unimportant like that.”
“Oh, but it’s not unimportant! After all, swallowing those curses doesn’t taste good, right?”
His gaze meets yours. Suguru never talked with anyone about the breath-taking disgusting taste these things left in his mouth for hours, how it takes all his strength to not throw them back up in an instant. After all, no one ever asked him about this. It seems like it has always been enough that he was able to absorb them for everyone else.
“Why would you think that?”
But how…how on earth do you know? Even though Suguru talks with you a lot about everything and everyone, he never talked about this with you. Hell, not even with Satoru.
“That face you make afterwards, scrunching your eyes just the tiniest bit while pressing your lips together. And I mean, what would curses taste like? Certainly not like sugar and candy, right? And I guess it’s like garlic: you’ll have the taste in your mouth for hours! But at least garlic tastes good when used right. Man, I really want some garlic noodles right now… Are you in the mood to grab something to eat? I know you’re quite busy, but-”
Suguru can’t help but stare at you, the foul taste left on his tongue pushed into the background. You with your bubbly personality made of pure gold. You, who came all the way here just to give him something to eat. You, the only person walking on this earth who ever took the time to think about how it must feel to swallow a curse.
Just you.
“It’s like eating a vomit-soaked rag. That’s what they taste like.”
Your doe eyes dart towards him, reflecting nothing but compassion. Before he is able to think straight you’re standing right in front of him, hand pressing the little package into his much larger one.
“No one should have to taste something like this on a regular basis. But maybe…Oh, I have an idea! Let’s make a pact.”
“A pact?”, he repeats in disbelief.
What are you up to? And why is your smile suddenly as bright as the sun?
“A pact! I promise to always have something to eat for you when you tell me about your missions in exchange!”, you announce proudly.
“This doesn’t seem fair to me at all. You don’t have to follow after me just to give me something nice to eat.”
It seems so crazy, almost unbelievable to him that another human being would be willing to sacrifice its precious time for him. Don’t you understand that this promise would mean traveling after him every day and night multiple times? Don’t you understand that you are too good for that? Especially you, the ray of sunshine at Jujutsu High. You, the girl everyone talks about, the girl that even Nanami secretly adores. Why would someone like you take special care of him?
“What isn’t fair is that you have to go through something like this every single time. I really admire you, Suguru. Just the smell of something disgusting makes me gag. Just thinking about eating something that tastes so horrible multiple times a day…You really are a hero! And every hero deserves some sweets! Oh wait…Are you actually into sweets? I can bring you something salty as well.”
“Satoru prefers sweets-“
“But I’m not asking about Satoru”, you interrupt him immediately.
“I’m asking about you.”
He isn’t able to respond. No, Suguru is absolutely captivated by your kind smile and the way you still hold onto his hand, the package in his palm feeling sweaty just by one look into your innocent eyes.
You…you really noticed. And not only that, you really do care about him.
“Go ahead, take a bite! I wonder what you think. I was never really a fan of salty snacks, but these ones are really good”, you explain all too excited.
Hesitantly, he rips open the package and allows himself to get a taste. Oh, this feels like heaven on earth, the saltiness of what seems like crackers hunting away the stinging taste of vomit in his mouth. But what intrigues him the most is you. How you stand in front of him, swaying back and forth in excitement while your eyes follow every move of his mouth, literally glowing in joy.
“These are really good”, he finally confesses.
“Thank you, (y/n). Now everything just tastes good.”
And so it did every following mission. Instead of feeling disgusted by only the sight of a curse, Suguru somehow feel…excitement. Excitement because swallowing a curse means meeting you afterwards. Excitement because he’ll get to taste a new sort of candy or sweets almost every single day. Excitement because slowly but surely, he fell head over heels for your striking sight.
“Those are a speciality around here! I heard some of the others talk about that shop yesterday and thought you might want to try it as well.”
The candy melts on his tongue right away, making him wonder what you taste like while your pretty mouth happily keeps on telling him everything about that shop. It is so easy to get lost in your sight, lost in your talking, last in your personality.
“(y/n).”
He takes a step forward, putting the other piece of candy you handed him over in his pocket. Your eyes widen in the most delicate way, cheeks turning rosy just by one glimpse into the chocolate brown ocean of his eyes.
You always loved the taste of sweets on your tongue, how your nerves began to tingle just the slightest bit. But in this moment, you realized that tasting Suguru Geto was way better than that. He wraps his arms around you gently, pressing his lips against yours ever so slightly. You feel like fainting, flying, giggling. What a precious man he is, how long you imagined how it must feel to kiss your secret crush. But oh, the reality is so much better.
“I love you more than any candy on this planet.”
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Mama Munson cannot cook.
She cannot bake.
She can barely make a grilled cheese without burning it.
But Wayne can cook.
He can bake.
He makes grilled cheese with tomatoes and garlic butter.
Eddie is raised with Wayne’s superior cooking and baking skills, and until he’s a teenager and goes to other friend’s houses, thinks that the “men of the family” are responsible for cooking and baking.
Wayne’s gotten aprons, and cooking utensils, and baking pans for Christmas and his birthday as long as Eddie’s lived with him.
Up until he’s too old according to his friends, he helps him in the kitchen.
Mama Munson watches the shift, but her and Wayne agree not to push.
They watch his diet do what most teenage boy diets do: turn to cereal and sandwiches at all hours of the day and night, some pizza sprinkled in when money allows.
Wayne still cooks, but his shifts turn into overtime hours, and then doubles, and he spends most of his time at home sleeping.
Eddie doesn’t seem to care, or at least not visibly.
His lunchbox is never stuffed with any food anyway, his mama isn’t dumb enough to not notice what he’s doing after school two or three days a week.
And then she almost loses him because the town turns upside down, almost literally, and everyone shuns them even more than they already did.
Not Steve Harrington, though.
He shows up every day after his volunteer shift with a grocery bag or two of fresh produce and jars and boxes and gets busy cooking. Nothing is ever that lavish, but there’s always a pop of flavors coming through even in the most simple dish.
She pretends she doesn’t see the way Eddie’s eyes widen after the first bite of whatever dish Steve’s made, reminiscent of when Wayne used to be able to cook for them almost every night. She pretends not to see the way Steve watches, waits for Eddie to show he likes it, relaxing into his chair and taking his own bite only after Eddie takes a second one.
She looks at Wayne, who’s pretending the same thing, but not hiding it well behind a knowing smirk.
Eddie starts spending more time in the kitchen with Steve, helping cut up vegetables and stirring as they talk, like he did with Wayne when he was younger.
Wayne goes back to work, but Steve always has a lunch packed for him with the leftovers so he doesn’t feel completely left out, blushes when Wayne hugs him on his way out the door. Eddie watches with a fond smile, and Mama Munson doesn’t say anything even though she should.
She’s seen what happens to boys who like straight boys firsthand, can’t be completely certain Steve’s a safe bet yet, even with the looks he throws and the care he gives. She thinks maybe he’s just a nice kid who loves his people.
But she wakes up one morning to whispering in the kitchen, and she knows Wayne isn’t home yet from his shift, so it has to be Eddie and someone else.
She sneaks out of her bedroom to see Eddie sitting on the counter, sweatpants on without a shirt, and Steve standing between his legs, cupping his face in his hands.
She’s certain that Steve left last night after she went to bed, she heard the front door open and close. But she looks closer and sees Steve’s wearing one of Eddie’s band shirts and the Christmas flannel pants Eddie got last year in his stocking.
So Steve didn’t leave, maybe wouldn’t leave ever if she was reading their faces right.
She decided not to interrupt them, sneaking back into her room and getting ready for work.
There’d be plenty of time for her to question Eddie about it, about Steve, about his feelings and if he was happy.
When she did finally go out to the kitchen, Steve was frying bacon and flipping an omelet in a pan while Eddie was sipping on a cup of coffee.
She kissed the top of Eddie’s head, then pulled Steve down to her level so she could kiss the top of his.
“Guess it’s about time we try your breakfast since you’ve been spoilin’ us with dinner for so long.”
Steve and Eddie’s matching red faces told her everything she needed to know.
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