#with the singular exception of Damian having green eyes

[cologona]

Willis Todd was one of those faceless tough-guy side characters that made Batman look extra cool when he took down 5 dudes bigger than him simultaneously.

That’s why Jason’s so fucking buff even though he’s what, only 18?

When Jason is drawn with an actual teenager’s body- and not in the weight class of a refrigerator- it’s a universe where the Lazarus waters didn’t heal his stunted growth.

#I like buff Jason Todd #anything to make the Wayne brothers look less like each other dear god #I am NOT dealing with 4 white twinks with black hair and blue eyes #with the singular exception of Damian having green eyes #it’s STUPID #worst character designer worst jail for a 100 years #I love Cass for many reasons but one of them is just that I can tell at a glance who she fucking is #headcanon

[thezestywalru]

Finally, the heart of ice shatters

Warning: angsty af

Damian Wayne was cold. He froze nearly everyone out, only letting a few people in the fortress that was his heart to see the cracks that had been there since he was younger. One of these people was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

They were most definitely opposites in personality. Marinette was sweeter than confectioners sugar, while Damian barely showed the smallest hint of a smile.

They had met in Paris two years before, at age 15, when Marinette had fallen into him, consquently knocking them into the famed Andre’s cart. They’d blustered and blushed as belongings were sorted and blame was laid. He quickly paid the owner of the cart, briskly apologizing in immaculate French.

“Er, em, M-Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” The girl with the sweet blue eyes and doll-like face had extended her hand. Damian feigned ignorance at the time, and pretended he didn’t see the olive branch. Raising a carefully manicured eyebrow- he’d spent over an hour in the bathroom to get them just right- he had offered his arm to her, feeling the seam of the arm pressing into his skin.

“I do believe that you owe me a tour.... Miss Dupain Cheng, was it?” She had blushed again, biting the inside of her cheek and twisting her mouth. Damian checked his watch, noting the time and allotting two hours to spend walking around the city before he had to report back to the base.

Shocked, Damian had looked at the girl who took his arm, blushing madly. Was that all she did? She seemed to fluster easily. Appearing to gather her wits, Miss Dupain-Cheng has dragged him along-he pretended not to eventually enjoy her rambling monologues of what she has experienced at each landmark- and soon, the two hours were gone. Damian kissed her hand, taking malicious glee in the pretty flush that spread over her cheeks. They quickly exchanged contact information, with Marinette promising to be the first to reach out.

And so, the two friends kept in contact through the next two treacherous years. They both finally grew, Marinette peaking at 5’2” and Damian only 5 inches taller at 5’7”. They each made different and new friends, affecting each other in some large and some small ways.

Damian taught Marinette how to advocate for herself, as well as different martial arts that he had learned with the league. Marinette urged her friend to open up more to his siblings, helping Dick as Damian became more experienced with compassion and empathy.

Sure, they never revealed their identities to each other, but they were close nonetheless. Each would have trusted the other with their life.

Slowly but surely, Damian began to gain feelings for his friend. He wasn’t quite sure if Dick’s assumption about him having a crush on her was correct at first, but now he was certain. She was Marinette: bumbling, blushing, beautiful Marinette.

So, two days before her seventeenth birthday, Damian asked his father for permission to visit Paris. Bruce granted it, quite bewildered when all of his sons piled on- though Jason and Tim just wanted Damian out of the mansion, they really had no idea why he wanted to go. So Damian went, excitedly discussing with an oblivious Marinette her plans for her birthday.

Damian pulled up outside of her family’s bakery the day of, grinning larger than he had ever before. They’d videochatted before, but neither had visted Paris or Gotham since they’d met. He had brought a single red rose from a local market, putting up with the plump lady behind the counter pinching his cheek and calling him handsome. It didn’t matter, because he was finally going to tell her.

A crow gave a sorrowful cry above his head, but he ignored the warning. Picking off the thorns from the stem, he rolled the rose around in his fingers, finally gathering his courage- ‘shake it off. You’re a Wayne!’- and so, he entered the bakery. It was quite crowded, so he looked around for any clues as to how he could get upstairs. As he was peering around, a small woman who bore a startling resemblance to the girl who had won his heart tapped on his shoulder.

“Can I help you?”

“My apologizes, madame.” Damian apologized smoothly, nodding his head in a small bow. “I’m a friend of Marinette’s and I was hoping I could wish her a happy birthday.”

Marinette’s mother bit the inside of her cheek, just like her daughter had years before. Looking up the stairs, she twisted her mouth in indecision.

“How do you know her?” She asked finally, though she hesitated.

“I’m Damian. We’re.... pen pals.” She cocked her head.

“She’s never mentioned an American pen pal.” Damian should have taken that as a sign, but he was too excited. Sabine recognized the look in his eye and again, glanced up at the stairs. Turning back to the clearly enthusiastic young American, she gestured up the stairs and moved out of the way.

“Merci, Madame.” Damian quickly walked up the stairs, cradling the head of the rose like a flute of champagne. Finally, he reached the trapdoor that she had described so many times. Slowly, he pushed up against the door, hearing it creak as the old wood groaned at his touch.

“Papá!” He heard Marinette’s voice cry. “We’re busy!” He poked his head up with a grin that was as sharp as a knife.

“Happy b-“ Damian ceased moving, ceased loving, ceased living as he took in the scene before him. There was a boy next to her. No, not next to her. Almost on top. She had a hand in his blond hair, with swollen lips and wild eyes that seemed to accuse him of intruding in a private moment.

Clearly, the blond was Adrien Agreste, Marinette’s formerly unrequited love. Damian felt his heart shatter in his throat, his face turn white, and the pounding of blood filling his ears as he tuned everything out, so he threw the rose into her room and retreated. The trapdoor closed behind him.

“Who was that, Princess?” He heard the boy say.

“My friend Damian from America!” She sounded worried. Why? He wasn’t worth it.

“He can wait.” There was a small bit of giggling before they continued. Damian ran down the stairs, feeling the burn of tears pricking his eyes. Nodding sadly to her mother, he tore out of the shoppe.

As he walked back to his hotel, Damian tried not to blame himself. Of course she would choose Adrien. He was a model, able to commiserate about the hardships of the fashion world. Agreste was perfect for her- they would compliment each other well.

He was just a mess, a lowly demon, just like his brothers always said. How could he compare to Adrien Agreste, blond supermodel with a gorgeous Mediterranean tan and warmer green eyes than Damian could ever hope for.

Damian glanced behind him, not daring to hope that she was running behind him to accept his rose and his declaration of love. How could he have thought that a singular small rose would be more than what Adrien could give her? She deserved the world.

Entering the ‘Le Grand Paris’ elevator, he glumly picked his phone out of his pocket, looking for any messages he might have missed, but found an empty screen and message box.

He didn’t matter, he realised. He didn’t matter to the person who mattered to him. Inhaling deeply, Damian rebuilt his walls of eyes and snow, opening the contact of the person he quite possibly loved the most and deleting it.

When Damian left that elevator, he was broken once more. However, on the outside, he appeared indifferent except for a singular tear that glistened in his right eye.

———————————————————————

Marinette giggling to herself as she blushed, tracing a finger over the photo of her and Adrien in a heart. This had quite possibly been the best birthday ever.

Her class had organized a small celebration, during which Adrien had taken her aside and blessed her with her first real kiss. They had decided to come back to her room so he could give her his gift in person and they might have gotten a bit carried away.

On top of that, her American best friend, Damian, was in Paris as well! She decided then and there to call him to ask when they could meet. The rose landed on her keyboard as Tikki sat down on the lip of her laptop screen and glared at her holder.

“What?” Marinette dreamily giggled, thinking of three kids and a hamster.

“Do you know what that means?”

“What?”

“A red rose means love and passion.” Tikki’s voice was flat and toneless.

“Don’t be silly! He just wanted to wish me a happy birthday!” She sniffed the flowery aroma before she pushed it into the vase that contained the flowers that Adrien had given her only a few hours before. (The sunflowers classed horribly with the red rose)

Marinette eagerly selected Damian’s contact and pressed the dial image. It rang a few times before leaving her with the harsh and monotone voicemail.

“You’ve reached the cell phone of Damian Wayne. Please state your name and leave a brisk message at the tone.”

“Hey, Dami!” She called. “I’m so sorry! Adrien and I just got caught up with each other. My friends set up a birthday party for me and I was really excited because they’d been working on it for a while! It was a surprise party too.” She blushed at the thought.

“Anyway, I was wondering how long you’re in Paris and if you’d like to grab lunch tomorrow? Please let me know! Bye!”

Picking up the rose, Marinette waited for an hour for him to respond. No messages, no calls, nothing. Two hours passed and she began pulling the petals off the rose.

Three hours passed, so she began tearing the discarded petals to shreds. Why wasn’t he responding? Taking a needle from her kit, Marinette began to hack at the stem.

Four hours passed and she began to yawn, her eyes drooping. Marinette fell asleep in the desk chair, waiting for a call from a broken hearted boy that would never come.

Tags:

@ozmav @g-arya @maribat-archive @maribat-central @maribat @damianette-is-life @artxyra @frownyalfred @department-of-depression @justcourttee @izzybellepenguin @nobodyfamousposts

#maribat #maribat au #damianette #damian wayne #damimari #angst #lmao oof #i live for the angst #good luck

[agentfrostbite]

I Read Too Much BatCat Today And Am A Writer, So Here We Go

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS MY OWN DC TIMELINE UNIVERSE THING BECAUSE DC IS mostly MADE UP OF COWARDS WHO DON’T WANT TO WRITE THE BATFAM THAT WE ALL WANT TO SEE. This is your only warning.

I cannot tell you my love for the whole ‘Bruce adopts everything’ meme/joke/thingy. And I’d bet that Selina teases him mercilessly about it.

But I’d ALSO bet that she does it, too, just somewhat unknowingly. Harley’s down on her luck after finally ditching the Joker? “Here, come stay at my place. No rent required, try not to leave your laundry on the floor, and we’re trading off on the dishes.” Ivy got her most recent greenhouse hideout smashed by Bats? “Apartment 404, that one complex on the corner with the busted streetlamp that Robin Number 1 fell off of once. The key’s under the mat, Harley may hit you with her mallet when you come in the door.” Hood had another knock-down drag-out fight with Batman (because I love this man, and yes, they will reconcile, but healing is slow)? “Shocker; curfew’s at 3, don’t wake me up if you come in afterward, clean the blood out of the carpets once you can actually do it - no, Jay, I don’t mean the morning after; nobody who comes in here is gonna ask questions - and no weapons in the bathroom or fridge.”

But if Bruce even TRIES to bring it up, she fixes him with the BatGlare™ (which he finds amusing). Like, she can tease him about his literal army of actual children, but if she thinks he’s even attempting to bring up the Apartment Gang (the name’s changed at least three times by now, and will change several more after, if a singular name is ever actually chosen), she’ll do one of those Extra™ Backflip Off A Roof flip-kicks and refuse to talk to him for a week.

(The strange bit is that he can tease her about mom-ing the heck out of HIS kids, and she’s totally fine with that. ‘Maybe it’s got to do with her commitment issues?‘ he thinks aloud as Dick swings by - on a grapple line that he is definitely NOT supposed to use in the house, aside from emergencies - laughing at Bruce for his lack of ability to acknowledge his own romantic commitment issues.)

Fast forward to after the BatCat wedding (which, in my AU timeline, DID happen because I’m NOT A COWARD), and now Bruce’s army of kids becomes her army of step-kids (including Jay, after red-and-black-checkered 'persons unknown' got annoyed enough about the whole refusal to actually talk things out and strapped Hoodie and Bats to a chair until they had their heart-to-heart), and the teasing doesn’t stop. Except now they can both tease each other.

“Darling, go tell your kids to keep the volume down; I’m planning how to break into the Smithsonian next week.” “Well, honey, they’re your kids, too.” “Yes, but I didn’t adopt them.”

(They go back and forth all the time. Tim’s got a running tally of the ‘fights’ he knows about, and so far, Bruce has won 58% of them, probably cause he had to live with Jay and Damian and the man could argue that the sky is green and aliens don’t exist.)

But at the same time, Selina notices - begrudgingly, slowly, with far more resistance than anyone sensible ought to put up - that she’s starting to lean a little further into the ‘adopt everything’ territory. It doesn't start as “Hey, that kid needs a home; let’s turn them into a crime fighter!” It’s more a “If you talk to my stepkids that way again, I’ll sic Harley Quinn on you, and she’s been really bored this week, which I know because I have a friend who knows somebody who knows her and not because I’m secretly Catwoman and took the girl into my apartment for four years.”

Then, of course, she finds out that Captain Marvel is actually a 12 YEAR OLD BOY, WTF BRUCE, YOU’RE LETTING A KID DO WHAT NOW?!?” and she stays up for a whole hour that night, tossing and turning and thinking up ways to discreetly adopt the kid before attempting to ignore that she’s slowly turning into her husband (on this matter and this matter alone).

It only gets worse as time goes on, and before she knows it, she goes from “I’m not like you, B, I don’t adopt every sad stray I see” to “This kid has no home, no family, and I’m not gonna let them do the superhero/vigilante/low-tier villain thing all by themselves.”

Bruce just about dies laughing every time she tries to make the argument of why they should take this one in (as if they don’t already have a horde, even if most of them, at this point, already have other homes/apartments and are slowly building families of their own.

(She does finally get Colin adopted, even thought it’s almost completely behind everyone’s backs, and Damian definitely did not have tears in his eyes, and he most definitely did NOT forget himself for a moment and hug Kyle, insinuate that he did one more time, and he’ll shove a Batarang down your throat.)

TL;DR, Selina turns into just as big a ‘adopt everything’-er as Bruce does, albeit with more kicking, screaming, and denial.

#bruce wayne #bruce is a good dad #selina kyle #selina kyle would be an awesome mom #batman #catwoman #my post #i have headcanons #and no self control #if you don't like it #fight me irl #army of tags #batcat #how did i forget that tag