Chapter 116 - My SI Stash #16 - Stranglevine by Timthecarp (Young Justice) (1/2)

-Recently published, SI as the son of Poison Ivy and Batman. Also Joker as a babysitter~

*NSFW SI Young Justice fic on QQ, you'll have to make an account to get access to the story!

Sypnosis: ???

Rated: M

Words: 13K

Posted on: forum.questionablequesting.com/threads/stranglevine-young-justice-si.11081/page-7#post-3063086 (Timthecarp)

PS: If you're not able to copy/paste the link, you have everything in here to find it, by simply searching the author and the story title. It sucks that you can't copy links on mobile (´ー｀)

-I'll be putting the chapter ones of all the fanfics mentioned, to give you guys a sample if you wan't more please do go to the website and support the author! (And maybe even convince them to start uploading chapters in here as well!)

Chapter 1+2 (exceptional)

Have you ever had a bad day? Rain ruining a barbeque, some jackass keys your car, your dog runs away, hell maybe your wife leaves you and never comes back. Broken bones, moldy bread, not getting sleep, hard tests, and a friend who stabs you in the back and twists the knife only because they can.

And you think about it, you sit and put your hands into your hair and really think about it and come to the only conclusion that someone who lives for long enough could have ever made. Of course you've had bad days, but like everyone else struggling along on this ball of shit and piss that is the earth you move on and live your life. Because what else could you do? Life isn't a game where your home town gets destroyed by the big bad you'll then have to go on an epic journey to defeat. Not a grand comic book origin story where that one event defines you for the rest of your life, where it pushes you to cripple criminals after your parents get murdered in front of you. Maybe things would be simpler if it was.

Life is a series of good and bad days, but all it takes is one bad day to ruin everything you've ever worked to achieve. One exceptionally bad day where a log falls off a big a_s_s truck and destroys your upper torso, like in Final Destination. Or maybe you get covered in some weird pseudoscience chemical that turns your skin green and gives you legs that just don't quit.

Well, that last one seems more like a positive, but whatever. I never said the analogy was perfect. It's hard to come up with something clever as your guts spill out into the street, I'm sure you wouldn't be able to do any better.

Anyway, this is my 'One Bad Day'. Stomach cut open by a pathetic fedora wearing, neckbeard having, weeb incel NEET wielding the dumbest katana ever devised by man. For God's sake, the pommel and hilt were pink and yellow and the blade had some anime dragon bullshit engraved into it. Such an embarrassing way to die, and so so pointless. I don't know why he thought that going on a rampage in rural Texas with a katana was a good idea, even now as my hearing dulls and the world loses color I can hear the faint bangs and pops of weaponry. Then the meaty thump of his fat lardass smacking against the pavement as he's presumably riddled with lead.

Good, at least I was avenged in the end.

Some faint screaming and crying hits my senses, the pounding of boots on pavement, the feeling of someone trying to shove my guts back into my abdominal cavity. All so pointless, by this point I've lost so much blood. Some wet drops hit my face, drawing me out of my monologue and into the real world. Some random woman yelling at me, yelling something I can't really understand. Probably to stay awake or some cliché shit like that.

Let me tell you some advice, people in my head. Telling someone to stay awake doesn't really help when most of their blood is painting the sidewalk like a 5th grader's abstract art project.

Ah... shit... what was I talking about again? Oh well. I need a blanket or something.

”It's s-so c-cold. Someone k-kick Jack Frost's a_s_s, he's t-too chill.”

And then the sun dims and goes out, and all I knew were dreams.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Whatever insane nonsensical dream I'm in now, I can at least thank God that it's calm and relatively inoffensive. I mean sure, there's an ever present 'thu-thump-thu-thump' noise that's pretty annoying, and it's kinda gross feeling in here, and I can't really move my limbs, and I can't breathe, and-

Well I'm sure you head-people get the picture, but at least I have limbs, at least I can feel things, and I don't have to watch a Turkey-man get blasted up the a_s_s with a baster filled with a white liquid. And that's one of the ones that wasn't even that bad compared to the soul raping noise of a few dreams that momentarily made me insane. But it's all fine! I just had to go insane enough that I went right back around the bend.

Admittedly, my definition of sane might be a teeny tiny bit different from yours. But you're head-people, your opinion doesn't matter! Still, I don't know what I'd do without you head-people. You're my bestest fwiends fowever~!

...the Silent Treatment huh? How typical of you, your passive aggressive silence almost makes me miss that whatever place I'm in now is getting really cramped. Oh shit! Oh f_u_c_k gross gross gross gross-

The slimy walls of the room flex and ripple, pulling me forwards towards a blindingly bright light. Then moments later I'm free, held in the hands of what feels like a giant before I'm promptly turned over and smacked on the a_s_s with their giant meaty hand. Then I start to cry like a f_u_c_k_i_n_g baby, because f_u_c_k_i_n_g oes as a surprise when I feel my right cheek hit n_i_p_p_l_e.

Oh, he handed me over.

Then Ivy slowly rocks me back and fourth, then starts to speak in that voice parents use around infants.

”Oooh, what's the matter? It's alright, momma's right here, everything's going to be alright. Are you hungry? Here you go~”

And then she shoves her n_i_p_p_l_e into my mouth. I then promptly stop crying and start s_u_c_k_i_n_g, because holy f_u_c_k this is the opportunity of a lifetime and I'm not wasting it by being a little bitch. Things go like this for a few minutes, I suck, she coos and makes baby noises while the brainwashed guy stands blankly in the corner of the room made of plants. You know, nothing out of the ordinary here, no sir just a normal every day birth.

Then, and follow me here, a female clown stripper strides into the room. Blonde hair, twintails dyed red and blue, a shirt with a boob window, a skirt that's probably too short and some fishnet stockings ending in black high heeled boots, white facepaint and glossy red lipstick on puffy d_i_c_k s_u_c_k_i_n_g lips. The usual clown stripper attire.

”Ya done in here Red? I wanna see the baby already, you've been screaming for hours!”

Ivy flinches, muttering something about bats, c_o_n_d_o_ms, and 'never again' before brightly smiling at the clown person.

”Here he is Harley, isn't he adorable!? Look at his cheeks, his hair, his eyes. Isn't he absolutely perfect!?”

”Sure, he's pretty cute I guess. I don't really see the appe-”

Her harsh words are cut off by me unlatching from Ivy's n_i_p_p_l_e and giving out a tiny burp. Harley's previously unexcited face suddenly lights up at my spontaneous cuteness. You could almost see her pupils turn into hearts! Her resulting squeal could probably be heard all the way to Mars!

”EEEEeee! He's so cute! Who's a widdle baby? That's right, it's you! Let auntie Harls pinch your itty bitty widdle cheek~”

Yeeeeeesssss, ALL SHALL BOW TO MY CUTENESS! MUHUHAHAHAHA-ow! Quitit!

My smug reign of cute baby terror was cut short by her reaching out and pinching my cheek just hard enough to be uncomfortable. Still pinching my cheek, she turns her head to look at Mo-Ivy.

”I can't believe B-man helped make something so precious!”

Ivy grimaces again. ”Ugh, I know. I can't believe it either. I guess it's my fault for not bringing my own contraceptives, but why didn't he bring bat-c_o_n_d_o_ms or something!?”

Oh shit, my dad is Bruce Wayne. My dad is Batman.

That lucky f_u_c_k! He did it raw! I want to do it raw! I bet he doesn't even pay bat-child support! Why can't I pay bat-child support!?

They talk back and fourth, complaining about batman and how he punched Joker in the face hard enough to make him lose a tooth. I mutely follow along for a while before I notice a head poke through the doorway. The Joker and I lock eyes and stare at each other for what feels like minutes before he grins at me in the way only a lunatic can, winks at me, and then walks away.

Well, that was a thing.

Refocusing back on to Ivy and Harley I idly reach back for Ivy's tit. I am still kinda hungry, and whatever weird plant milk coming from her b_r_e_a_s_ts tastes pretty nice. Suckling on her boob, I feel like everything is going to turn out okay.

Oh dammnit I jinxed myse-

Chapter 2

My new life went how you would generally expect for a newborn baby, you know the deal. Eat, sleep, drink, shit, and piss. Utterly boring and tedious in the extreme, the only thing that occasionally saved me from the usual monotony were visits from Aunt Harley and Uncle Jay. They'd come in on random days, at random hours, occasionally looking like they'd just come from a life threatening confrontation, clothes damaged in some way, bodies littered with another injury or another. But no matter their condition they were all smiles and laughter, a source of such eternal enduring joy it was almost pathetically easy for me to forget that they were crazy mass murdering lunatics. Somehow the thought of people getting hurt didn't bother me in the slightest.

With my mom things were… not so great. Sometimes there would be weeks where she didn't leave my side for anything, and then she'd completely vanish into the ether on others. During these long periods of absence I would be babysat by Auntie, with some special occasions with Joker taking the wheel.

Now, I know what you're thinking.

”Oh god what did he do to you!?”

Well head-people, I am happy to say that he did absolutely nothing to me. No bad words, no errant slaps, as a babysitter his only 'bad' quality would be his constant insistence on teaching me things. How to mix certain chemicals to make Smilex, how to assemble gag props, how to best psychologically tear down your opponents (that one had a puppet show!), generally it was all mostly practical knowledge with a fun twist to keep my attention.

Harley on the other tiny baby hand was a source of general entertainment with a few life lessons thrown into the mix. When it's okay to break a rude minion's kneecaps (It's always okay to do that, duh), Sock puppet shows usually ending with batman getting beaten up into a pulp by cute sock versions of all his rogues, how to best pop an arm or leg back into place, and so on.

My first few months of life consisted of this constant cycle of overbearing love-filled smothering, and then absence. Though I really had no idea what on earth she was doing during these 'trips', I could guess that it probably involved super-villainy and getting punched in the face by a gimp with a fetish for bats, and his child assistant. And while I didn't exactly appreciate that my mom was getting hurt constantly, it's not like there was anything I could really do about it other than sit in my plant crib and shit myself.

So I sit and drink the same shit I drink everyday, from the tit or from the bottle. That's right, it's f_u_c_k_i_n_g plant b_r_e_a_s_t milk, and let me tell you something, it tastes pretty alright. Now while it tastes good, it sure as shit isn't normal milk. I've tasted normal milk, you've probably tasted normal milk, this shit tastes like fruit juice except I can't tell from what kind of fruit. Now if it was only the taste I wouldn't care that much about the difference, but I swear this has something in it that shouldn't be in it. Why do I think it has some kind of pseudoscience bullshit chemical in it? Well, it's the fact that I look like a f_u_c_k_i_n_g goddamn eight year old kid when it's only been four months. So it's either the milk that's making me m_a_t_u_r_e faster, or it's the fact that I'm a freaky plant person. Maybe even both, I don't know.

Part of me wants to eat something else, anything else, but when I ask mom all I get is ”It's good for you, you don't need anything else!” and when I ask Auntie and Uncle they just give each other a look and refuse with some weak excuse littered with even weaker apologies. So that's… something mildly worrying at the very least. Though I noticed the flavor change every so often, so I suppose my complaint was taken into account. Ah, oh well. I suppose that I'll have to be a big boy and just deal with it.

I'm thrown out of my bi-weekly report to the College of Head-people when mommy walks into the room, some of her newest mind controlled servants following meekly behind her as she approaches my kingdom of wooden toys. She bends down and gives me a hug, putting my head between her bodacious b_r_e_a_s_ts, then smiling warmly, she starts to deliver the same bad news as six weeks ago.

”Sweety? Mommy needs to go on a… trip again. Your aunt and uncle will come by sometime today, just play with your toys until they come by, alright?”

Snuggling up to her, I pout a little.