I Just Wanted a Hug, Why Is Everyone Suddenly a Busty Mommy Now?!
Damien Vale is sixteen, chronically underfed, and has never once in his life been told “I’m proud of you” by someone who meant it.
When the Joker corners him in Crime Alley and death feels like the only thing waiting for him, Damien’s terrified heart makes one desperate, childish wish:
“Please… I just want someone to love me like a mom is supposed to.”
Reality listens.
Reality over-delivers.
In the space between one heartbeat and the next, the Joker is rewritten into “Mommy Joki”: a six-foot-four, platinum-blonde, hyper-curvy bimbo whose entire universe now orbits around cuddling, feeding, bathing, and absolutely worshipping her “sweet baby boy.” She is clingy, over-protective, embarrassingly affectionate in public, and very, very hands-on with her love.
Damien’s power only triggers when he feels strong emotion: fear, loneliness, arousal, or that aching, hollow need for affection he’s carried since he was six. Every time it flares, another woman in Gotham hears the wish and changes, hero, villain, civilian, it doesn’t matter. Their bodies inflate into exaggerated, fertility-goddess proportions, their minds soften into bubbly, air-headed devotion, and every single one of them decides Damien is the most precious thing that has ever existed and that being his personal big-titted, doting “Mommy” (or occasionally “Big Sis-Mommy”) is their ultimate purpose.
Catwoman becomes a purring lap-cat who demands cuddles and cream.
Harley turns into an excitable golden-retriever-energy sister-mommy who wants to play doctor.
Poison Ivy decides plants aren’t nearly as cute as her baby’s smile.
Even Power Girl and Wonder Woman eventually show up at his door with freshly-baked cookies and outfits that lose structural integrity the moment they see him blush.
Damien doesn’t want to rule the world.
He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.
He’s just a painfully shy, easily flustered teenage boy who keeps stammering “Th-this is too much…!” while being smothered in perfume-scented hugs by an ever-growing army of giggling, dripping, impossibly busty mommies who all insist on tucking him in, giving him bubble baths, and competing over who gets to hold him tonight.
He spends half his time blushing like an anime protagonist who accidentally walked into an onsen full of busty onee-sans, and the other half crying happy tears because for the first time in his life he is surrounded by people who genuinely, obsessively, unconditionally love him.
Batman is still out there, trying to “save” everyone from what he believes is a cosmic horror.
Damien just wants to know if it’s okay to let eight different mommies braid his hair at once while Power Girl feeds him cookies and Joki threatens to spank anyone who makes her baby sad.
This is the story of the sweetest, most wholesome apocalypse Gotham has ever seen:
A lonely boy who accidentally turned the DC Universe into one giant cuddle-puddle of over-affectionate, hyper-sexualized maternal figures…
and slowly, shyly, learns that maybe he deserves all this love after all.
(Features: endless flustered blushing, accidental harem escalation, wholesome corruption, lactation as comfort, pregnancy as cuddling, and the most emotionally constipated Bat-family ever trying to process the fact that the Joker now knits booties and calls Damien “angel-cake” without irony.)