#Jason will always be his little baby infant brother | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

briamichellewrites · 2 years

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Rachel was a happy baby. She could laugh, coo and smile. At three months old, she was out of the newborn stage and was finally an infant. She was growing like a weed and needed new clothes. Brad loved his little girl and he loved being part of the Girl Dad Club, for which Dave was also a member of. She was sleeping more and always woke up with a smile. He was falling more in love with Elisa as he watched her with the two kids.

She loved the attention his band gave her while at the studio. They passed her around, depending on who was needed at the moment. Even Joe and Rob held her. She looked just like Jayde. They couldn’t wait to see what her personality would be. Cody was outgoing and energetic. Would she be the same way or would she be more shy? Mike guessed that she would be outgoing like her brother.

Three months. Jayde was on probation after completing rehab. She had been given twelve months, instead of twenty four because the judge could see she was making an effort to stay sober and was taking it seriously. What was her probation? She could not commit any crime – that included even a minor traffic violation, could not drive with any amount of drugs or alcohol in her system and she could not refuse any test if suspected of DUI. If she failed any of the requirements, she would be looking at prison.

Did she have any questions? No, Your Honor. Thank you. She was serious about turning her life around. Mike and Anna were proud of her for going through rehab. Now, she had to complete her probation. Ava had made up with Adam. He apologized for what he had said about Jayde. Even when he didn’t like everything she did, she was still her mother and he had to respect that.

Ava forgave him and moved back in with him. She reported to Anna that he was making more of an effort to be a good father to her. Good for him. He needed a kick in the ass sometimes.

Jason visited Jayde at home. He told her that he and Rob were dating. Oh. Was she okay with that? Yeah, she was just surprised. He laughed and admitted that he had known he was bisexual for a while and he was finding a way to come out. She didn’t care about his sexuality because it didn’t change who he was. That’s what Rob told him. He just wasn’t ready yet.

Don’t force it. Nobody can make that decision, except himself. What about her? She was getting used to being home after twelve months. Was she going to visit her daughter? Eventually. The adoption was something she was still working through. She was planning on not having any more kids until she was in a stable relationship. That was a good idea. Did she like cats? Like, the animal? He laughed and showed her a picture on his phone.

“That’s Holmes.”

“Oh my god! He’s adorable! I’m usually a dog person but he is so cute!”

“I’ll have to bring him over sometime, so you can meet him.”

Rob was thrilled she had given their relationship the go-ahead. She was one of the biggest supporters of the LGBT+ community and they knew that she would only want them to be happy. It didn’t matter if they were gay, bisexual or whatever. As long as they were happy. That’s what they wanted for her. Genuine happiness, without abuse and without drugs.

Dave jokingly added another condition for her probation. What was it? Not getting pregnant! She put her hands together like she was strangling him. That made them laugh. She was not planning on getting pregnant again until she was in a stable relationship. Good! She was going to go through a mental health screening because the therapist she was seeing in rehab recommended it. Was she at risk of developing anything?

She was at risk of developing PTSD, bipolar and Borderline Personality Disorder because of her trauma and genetics. Her mother had Dissociative Identity Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder and bipolar disorder. Getting diagnosed and starting treatment would help her avoid relapse. They all wanted her to do it. How was her dog? He was the king of the house. They laughed.

“He was spoiled with attention for about twelve months and it went to his head. I actually talked to Jason. I think he’s bringing his cat the next time he’s in LA, so we’ll see how Bruno handles having to share the attention.”

“He’s bringing his cat”, Mike asked.

“He’s a cat dad. It’s adorable. He literally showed me a picture of him on his phone, like ‘You want to see my cat?’”

They laughed. Victoria’s Secret also wanted her to walk the runway for their next live show. Maroon 5 was supposed to be performing. Was she going to do it? She was sorely tempted. Why? Just for fun. Then, she was going back to music.

When Elisa came in with Cody and Rachel, they waited for her reaction to seeing her two kids. She gave her a hug before saying hello to Cody. He said hello to her with a big smile and then ran over to Rob. She then said hello to Rachel, who looked at her for a moment before giving her a smile. Did she want to hold her? Sure. She carefully handed her over and she held her in her arms.

“Wow. She’s gotten so big!”

Rachel waved her arms in happiness and cooed. She put her little head against her chest and yawned. It was nap time. The heat of her body made her tired. She rubbed her eyes before closing them. Jayde rubbed her back. Is she asleep? Yeah, she was. Rachel smiled for a moment. How was holding her? It was different than what she thought it was going to be. She thought she was going to burst into tears. Was she okay? Oh, yeah. She was still working through the emotions but she was better than she had been.

She couldn’t be a mother to her or Cody and she knew that they were both loved. They let her hold her for as long as she needed to. After ten minutes, she gave her back to Elisa. She then gave her another hug and thanked her. You are welcome! She was free to come over anytime and visit. Brad also gave her a hug. Thank you. She started a conversation with Cody. Was he in kindergarten? Yes!

He was going to be seven! They laughed. She thought that was very cool! He nodded then told her that they had a lizard at school! Was it a big lizard or small lizard? It was small and it liked to hide but it had a long tail. The teacher gave it vegetables to eat and bugs.

“Ew.”

He nodded. “Only the teacher feed the lizard but we can say hi to him.”

“What’s his name?”

“Uh.…”

“Bugs”, Brad reminded him.

“Oh, yeah!”

After everyone had left, Rob, Brad and Elisa sat down with Cody and Jayde. He asked his daddies who that woman was. Brad asked him if he remembered how they talked about him being adopted? He nodded. That woman he was talking to earlier was his birth mommy. He looked at Jayde and asked if he was in her tummy. Yes, he was. She loved him so much that she wanted better than what she could give him. The four of them helped answer his questions.

He wiped his tears. Was she still his mommy? If that was what he wanted. He wanted her to be his mommy and he wanted her, he pointed to Elisa, to be his mommy. Two mommies and two daddies. Okay. She could do that. Could she give him a hug? He nodded, so she came over to him and gave him a hug.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @jovichic-bonjovi4ever @borhap-au @beneathashadytree @duffs-shot-glass @geo-winchester @lokolokong-manunulat

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wonderbutch · 2 years

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au where harley and ivy raise dick and jason

- harley and ivy raising toddler dick and baby jason

- just think abt harley carrying toddler dick on her hip as ivy teaches literal infant jason how to plant stuff

- “aw look at ur mama and baby brother”

- she loves her wife and boys so MUCH

- bonus: later on talia, selina and bruce co-raise tim and damian

- dick and jason calling harley “mama harls” or something along those lines at the start of their adoption cause ivy always calls her harls and they’re KIDS AND THEY NEED MOTHERS

- it’s an accidental baby acquisition but two for the price of one. a deal only in gotham

- “now jay, can you say ‘clown princess of crime’?”

*jason, making grabby hands* “mama!”

“….i’ll take it”

- dick is the chaotic kid at school

- jason is well behaved but eats literal rocks

- jason has a connection to the green and the green told ivy where to find baby jason after his parents are killed by two face

- dick is a toddler when his parents die in the circus, harley just so happens to be visiting that day and takes him in

- sometimes a family is two reformed anti heroes w adhd and autism and two chaotic adhd kids and a lot of plants.

- in this au harley and ivy are vigilantes and no longer anti heroes cause batman killed joker years ago so ivy and harley just, changed their lives around.

- selina is also dating ivy and harley. polyamory

- harley and bruce are best friends so they’re all a big family

- so the batkids are basically all raised by bruce, selina, talia, ivy, and harley

- when the boys are older, they babysit tim and damian a lot

- clark, coming to gotham just to check in on something for the league: what the FUCK

the wayne-al ghul-kyle-quinzel-isley family, all sitting at bruce’s giant table for sunday dinner: what?

- anyways this will be a fic SOON, im in the process of writing it.

- ty to @bisteph @konsteph for helping me w this and supporting me w my weird little fic ideas and aus

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current-interest-writings · 3 years

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Bruce Wayne and his daughter HC

Bruce has many children, and he loves them all. Even when they do things he doesn’t agree with.

But he has a special connection with you, it may have to do with you being blood. But more than likely it has to do with the fact he has had you since you were an infant.

He remembers the day your mother dropped you off

You were so small

And pink!

And had the widest doe eyes he had ever seen.

But he quickly had to adjust to having a baby in the manor. All of which included: adjusting patrol, buying baby things.

He was so lost, and so grateful for Alfred at the same time.

“She’s hiccuping is that safe for a baby?!, does she have a fever?! How would I take her temperature?!”

“Master Wayne if you would allow me to speak. She has the hiccups because she’s been crying it’s normal, no she doesn’t have a fever, and I will read you the pamphlet on the baby thermometer”

Bruce had a hard time learning to wrap you up, he felt like he was restricting your movement.

But had to learn that was good for you.

By the time you were three dick came into your lives.

You loved having an older brother, you had swapped office chair time to go color with your brother.

Bruce would miss you being this little forever

But seeing you grow was also a sense of pride.

When it came to school you did well.

You were fairly well liked

But where you excelled and shined was at home.

You had just turned 13 when Bruce no longer saw you as his baby.

But your brothers didn’t agree.

To dick you will always be the little girl who brought coloring books to him, and wanted to spend time with him.

To Jason you were a little girl, didn’t matter how much you aged after his death. You were the girl who would check on him and offer to make him feel at home

To Tim, you were the girl who brought him coffee and sometimes switched it for decaf when he needed sleep.

And Damien well, he’s younger than you but based on his protectiveness no one would guess you’re the older one.

But to Bruce you will always be his baby girl. You still sometimes come into his room at night when you’re scared. Even if he isn’t there you will just curl up on the bed.

And it makes him smile to see it.

#batman x you #batfam x batsis #batfam x reader #batman x reader #batmom #batboys #batman #batfamily and batmom imagine #batsis imagine #batsis #dc headcanon

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

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Phantom Children Ch. 8

What's this? An update! Massive thanks to my betas for helping me get through this chapter <3

In Which: A few answers are given to the family and Danny is rudely awoken

[Side note: If you wanna know the general ages of the batfam, its listed in the AO3 version. I also talk about katanas in the end notes ^-^]

AO3 | Prologue | 7 | [ 8 ] | 9 DAMIAN INFORMED TODD—and Drake when he arrived on his bike sometime later on—that the boy whose face is plastered across the monitor was neither a picture of himself nor of Father.

Drake took one glance at the monitor and sighed, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Just when I thought this day was getting better.”

“What, did that café on 5th finally let customers supersize their drink?”

“God that would be the dream, wouldn’t it?” Drake sighed wistfully. “Nah, but I did get a lead on where some of that stolen Cadmus tech might’ve ended up. I was gonna spend the night following up on it, but I guess we have to deal with,” he gestured to the monitor, “whatever this is.”

Todd leaned against the edge of the computer, arms crossed over the red bat insignia on his chest. “What are we dealing with this time, brat? A clone? An alternate universe counterpart? Magic shenanigans?”

Maybe. Perhaps. All of those were perfectly valid conclusions for the enigma that was Daniel James Fenton. (Why Fenton and not al Ghul? Or even Wayne?)

Damian, too, was a genetic experiment; a ‘test tube baby’ as Drake put it at times. Damian was born for greatness, created to be perfect. The perfect soldier. The perfect assassin. The perfect heir. Was this boy—Daniel—like him as well?

A failed one, then. Perhaps the precursor to Damian’s own existence. But that would not explain why the boy was allowed to exist for so long. His grandfather demanded perfection, especially from those of his own blood. If the boy was a failure, he would have been eliminated immediately, not sent to live with some eccentric scientists in the Midwest.

Damian was not naïve enough to think that his mother and grandfather did not keep secrets from him. On the contrary, he expected it. The League of Shadows dealt in secrets as often as it did in death. Certain information was worth its weight in gold, whether it was given or buried away.

But he could not help the sharp pang in his chest. A lightning strike, quick and electrifying at the notion that they kept secrets about their family from him.

His father’s face flashed in his mind. The shock turned into a slow, dawning horror. That flicker of light, of recognition, as he scrutinized the contents of the flash drive and cross-referenced it with a public database.

And grief.

Damian recognized the grief.

Alfred, too, nearly dropped his tray of fresh-baked cookies when he stepped in front of the monitor. His usual unflappable demeanor was momentarily broken at his father’s whispered “Sixteen years. Alfred— he’s sixteen years old.”

His father knew of the boy. He was allowed to know of Daniel when he was not allowed to know about Damian.

------

Grayson returned to the cave with a distinct lack of energy in his step. His mask dangled off the tips of his fingers, chin angled downwards and covered largely by his hand. For a split second, their eyes met. Grayson shifted his gaze away, scratching the back of his neck. Father told him, then. Damian wondered how much Father revealed to his favorite son.

Damian clucked his tongue and buried himself deeper into the chair, arms crossed and pointedly looking away. If it was not for his accursed ankle, he’d have headed out to the training ring to take his frustrations out on the dummies.

“Oh, thank god you’re here, Dickface. Damian’s completely out of it.”

Damian shot him a look. “Shut up, Todd.”

“Leave him alone, Jay. Is Tim back yet?”

Drake emerged from the changing room in a dark green shirt, a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He took one long sip before exhaling. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“O-kay…” He pressed his hands together, mouth thinned into a grim line. “Uh, hey Tim, glad to see you back safe. Bruce is coming down soon to explain some things.” He let out a deep sigh, carding a hand through his hair. “This kind of thing would probably be better with the girls around, but I—god, I don’t know.”

Todd raised an eyebrow. “Don’t know whether to call Steph and Cass in Hong Kong, or don’t know what’s going on?”

“Yes.”

------

When Father arrived, Pennyworth following dutifully behind him, it was with an aching slowness in his gait. His steps measured and precise, preternaturally quiet as he made his way to stand by Damian’s chair. Damian sat up straighter, shoulders squared and back an inch away from the backrest. The rest, even Todd, stood at attention; an ingrained habit among Robins and an amusing instinct even among the senior heroes of the Justice League when it came to facing the Batman.

His father kept a steady hand on Damian’s shoulder, and Damian, shamefully, leaned into the touch; his head inclined towards his father’s hand so much so that he could feel the ends of his hair being pushed up slightly as he brushed against his father’s forearm.

He spoke with his usual monotone, as if he was heading a Justice League meeting as opposed to unveiling the secrets surrounding that boy. He brought forward the few photos they obtained from the flash drive. “A few weeks ago, we were alerted of suspicious movement from the League of Shadows in Amity Park, Illinois. Their objectives are, as of now, unclear, though it appears to be tied to the death of Amity Park resident, Daniel Fenton.”

One photo was a standard ID picture people get for their driver’s license, the lighting deliberately horrible so that any attempt to look decent would always end in failure. Another photo was a little better; a candid scene of him chatting with two others his age, a Caucasian girl in gothic-style clothes and an African-American holding a sleek, but still very outdated PDA. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners, hand reaching up to his face to stifle a laugh. There were other photos like this, some candid, others posed. At the forefront of each, a boy that looked too much like his father, too much like Damian.

His father glanced at the photos. He shut his eyes and when he opened them again, he fixed them on some distant stalactite in the Cave. “Around six months ago, Daniel was pronounced dead in a vehicular accident. A body was present, but according to police reports, he was identified via his driver’s license as opposed to any kind of DNA profiling.” He leaned over Damian’s chair to pull up a profile of Masters. “Our source—Vladimir Masters, mayor of Amity and a friend of the Fenton family—indicated his belief that Daniel is actually alive. I am inclined to agree.”

“He’s your son, isn’t he,” Drake said, more of a statement than a question.

Father gave a curt nod. “I cannot say for certain until I can perform a DNA test, but I highly suspect that to be the case.”

“First the demon spawn, now this. Great.” Todd made a hand motion towards the screen. “You know, Bruce, not knowing you have a kid once might be a coincidence, but twice? How do you do that?”

“As of three hours ago, I was still under the impression that my son never made it to term.”

“What?”

“Over sixteen years ago I was involved in a mission that put Ra’s and I on the same side. During that time, Talia and I entered a relationship that resulted in a pregnancy. Though initially ecstatic, she eventually led me to believe she miscarried the child and pushed me away. For what ends, I do not know, but trust me Jason, if I knew—” He paused, the hand that was not on Damian’s shoulder curled into a tight fist.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why she hid it from me then doesn’t matter. Why Talia wants him back now is important. Judging from Daniel’s records, he was adopted into the Fenton family as an infant and has since lived a seemingly normal life as a civilian. His adoptive parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, are brilliant scientists and engineers focused on the field of paranormal studies. Eccentricities aside, they have zero connections to the League of Assassins or any other concerning parties.”

“So why now?” Dick asked, shifting his concerned gaze from Bruce to the static picture of Danny’s tired smile. “Why, after all this time, decide that now would be the best time to recover him?”

------

Danny’s experienced plenty of rude awakenings before, but waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to avoid his kidnapper-slash-assassin-slash-biological-mom launching a surprise attack takes the fucking cake. He can’t believe he’s saying this, but thank god for all those late night ghost attacks that conditioned him to be a light sleeper. And, of course, the League’s insistence that everyone be in optimal condition regardless of how little sleep you actually got.

Danny kicked Talia off of him, ripping his blanket away before scrambling to his feet. Seriously, if the universe decided to spontaneously give him powers again, he’d really like an upgrade to his ghost senses, please and thank you. Something that works on humans and not just ghosts. Like spidey-senses. He’d really, really like some spidey-senses.

“Your reaction times have improved considerably,” Talia said.

He eyed the katana sheathed beside his bedroll. “Thanks. Who could have guessed that constantly challenging someone to a spar in the unholy hours of morning would make them paranoid to sleep too much? Really, how am I supposed to grow taller at this rate? ” If he could just get it--

She smiled, taking a step forward. “Prepare yourself.”

“Heh.” Danny stepped further away from Talia, keeping his back to the mouth of the cave. One hand stretched in front of him and the other, coated in a green light, was kept hidden behind his back. “Am I actually gonna get some answers today?”

“Let us make it interesting. Last 10 minutes against me and I shall tell you more about your brother.” Talia twirled her blade. “If you happen to draw blood, you may ask any one thing of me.”

“Anything?”

“Within reason.”

His face caught between a grimace and a smile. He’d rather be sleeping right now, but if he had to be awake, then he’d better make the most of it. “Deal.”

Talia’s smile dropped. She veered her body to the right, barely dodging the streak of bright green that whizzed from behind her. The ectoplasmic energy that surrounded the katana bled away as the handle connected with Danny’s outstretched hand.

She quickly glanced back at Danny’s bedding. Beside it lay an empty sheath. “You have telekinesis?”

He shrugged. “It comes and goes.” Yeah, no way was Danny gonna admit that seven-out-of-ten-times he forgot that he had telekinesis. Besides, that shit was hard to do when he wasn’t Phantom.

“A surprise attack from behind is a sound strategy, Daniel. Though it’ll take a lot more than that to harm me.”

Danny pointed to the side of his cheek. “Are you sure about that?”

Talia frowned. She reached up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her cheek and came away with a thin streak of blood.

Danny grinned, pointing his blade at his opponent. “First blood goes to me.”

------

Fact: most fights don’t last long. An average street fight could last anywhere between 25 to 40 seconds, and sword fights rarely last over a minute. Like Talia said, the goal of a fight was to end it with as few injuries to oneself as possible. Humans, even the most skilled ones, can rarely last long in a fight. Prolonged combat is suicide; it makes you tired, makes your muscles heavy. It’s nothing like what Hollywood would have you believe.

Even with Danny’s own enhanced stamina and Talia holding back, he couldn’t last a full ten-minute spar. If Talia didn’t finish him within twenty-five seconds, then he’d fall by his own human limitations.

But the goal wasn’t to spar continuously for ten minutes.

He only had to last that long.

Danny sprinted out of the cave. The sun barely peeked out of the horizon, a thin line of deep orange breaking apart the wide expanse of blue-black sky above. He couldn’t see shit; great news since that meant there’s a good chance Talia couldn’t either, but that doesn’t fix the fact that he can’t see.

Nearly stumbling on the ice, Danny veered to the left. The edges of the lake stopped at towering rocks twice Danny’s height, leaving little room for cover. Though if he remembered correctly, there should be a few crevices here and there to hide in.

“You’ll have to be faster than that, Daniel.”

Shit—

Danny stopped. He brought his sword up to parry Talia’s strike and twisted away, putting distance between them.

Well, so much for just avoiding her for 10 minutes.

He adjusted his grip, keeping his sword steady and eyes trained on Talia as they circled each other. Danny lunged with an overhead strike. Talia used one hand to block the downswing by gripping his wrists. She thrust her sword forward, the tip harshly poking Danny’s abdomen.

“Less than three minutes.” Talia let his wrist go, Danny’s arms slumping to his sides.

He sighed as he sheathed his sword. “Damn, I thought I’d last longer than that.”

“You made a good effort,” Talia assured him. “Putting as much distance between us at the beginning was a good strategy. You recognized the win conditions immediately and attempted a battle of attrition.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I am very proud of you habibi, especially as you managed to draw first blood.”

A warmth grew in Danny’s stomach at the words, heating his cheeks. Sheepishly, he scratched the back of his head. “I wasn’t entirely sure that would work, honestly.”

“It was clever; half a second later and you might have even killed me. You are an al Ghul through and through” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What would you like as your prize, then?”

Danny’s heart clenched. He frowned, dropping his arm to his side. If I was such an al Ghul, then why didn’t you keep me? The question lodged itself in his throat, stifling his thoughts. It was something he’d been wondering for a while, actually, in the moments of solitude he had at the compound. Talia, during their training, would always remark at his potential. How talented he was, how adaptable he was, how much greater he would have been if he had been trained at a younger age.

Well then, why wasn’t he? Why did she give him up?

But each time he tried to ask, his tongue would turn to lead and the moment would pass, the question still left unsaid and simmering at the back of his mind. A Pandora’s Box that held none of the world’s evil but all of Danny’s possible shortcomings.

He could ask the question now.

He could.

He didn’t.

“Why did you take me?”

Talia tilted her head. “It is because you’re my son.”

“No. Not that. It has to be something more than that. You had sixteen years to come back for me—or, hell, you could have just never left me.” His breath hitched, fingers mussing his hair and hiding his eyes. “Why else did you take me?”

“It is true that there was more than one reason why we decided to retrieve you from Amity Park. One of which is because you are my son and an heir of the Demon’s Head.” Talia stilled. The dark skies of dawn made it impossible for him to read her. “The second reason was to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me…to protect me?”

“Knowledge of the ghosts of Amity have spread through the more insidious parts of the world. There are many out there who would pay exorbitant fees to study one of you or to use you.”

Use him? What did she mean by—

Oh.

Ghosts—Amity Park’s brand of ghosts—were a new element that the world had to contend with. Amity Park might have a crime rate of zero but that wasn’t the case everywhere else. Theft, assault, murder; the world was rampant with crimes and criminals clawing their way to the very top. Having ghosts, even ones with the most basic powerset, would be a huge advantage.

“There’s no way that would work,” Danny insisted. “Most ghosts just want to be left alone, and the ones that want to wreak havoc would never work with humans. The only reason they even work with halfas like me at times is because they still consider us as ghosts.”

“If my sources are to be believed, ghosts might not even get a choice.”

Danny’s blood curdled in his veins.

No.

Someone’s found a way to control ghosts.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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cdelphiki · 4 years

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Was re-reading ‘In for a Penny’ when I read this sentence “if we do not rescue Damian today, “Clark said, finally speaking up, “I have a feeling we will one day face him in battle”and thought what if Bruce wasn’t able to find Damian, instead meets him again when he’s ten, how would he feel?What would happen? Damian holding a sword to the father he doesn’t remembers throat, dick finally seeing his brother again. Memories, baby things left untouched in the manor. Would love to hear your thoughts-M

The years since Damian’s kidnapping had not been kind to Bruce.

Dick left him. When he was barely eighteen. Packed up and moved to Bludhaven, where he still lived some six years later.

Bruce couldn’t blame him. Not really. He’d not been much of a father, once Damian went missing.

Then Jason came along, and Bruce had tried really hard for that boy. He’d worked on himself, worked on his availability. Adopted him, right from the start.

It hadn’t mattered.

Because in the end, Jason had left him, too. In the most painful way possible.

At least Damian was out there.

Somewhere.

Growing up, living his life.

Jason’s had been cut short.

After that, Bruce had sworn off kids. He wanted nothing to do with children ever again, because brining a child in his life just meant he’d love that child, and life didn’t let him keep the things he loved.

He wasn’t sure how many more times he could go through that.

Those he loved suffered in the worst ways possible, and how could he do that to another child?

Then Tim came around. Kind of forced his way into Bruce’s life. Reluctantly, and completely against his will, Bruce had come to love Tim, as well. Had adopted him, when the opportunity arose, as tragic as it was.

Talia had made herself scarce in the years since stealing Damian away from him. He’d tried to find them. Many times. But they always evaded him. Were always too well hidden.

He hadn’t… given up.

Per se.

But as Damian grew older, Bruce’s hope dwindled. He’d not even been two yet, when Talia took him away. There was no chance he’d even remember Bruce at five.

Or eight.

Or the ten he was now.

What right would Bruce have to swoop in and steal him away? Rip him away from the only family he remembered?

To him, Bruce was the absent father, living on the opposite side of the planet, and as much as he wanted to see his son, as badly as he wanted to hold his baby in his arms, he was a stranger to Damian.

He had no right over him any more.

All he had left of his little boy were pictures and a stuffed cow.

He’d given away everything else. To Clark, when Lois was expecting Jon.

To Selina. When she was expecting Helena.

Damian was too old for baby things, anyway. And walking past a nursery was painful.

They’d turned that room into Jason’s.

It wasn’t any less painful, now.

Bruce tried not to think about any of it. Tried not to think about Damian.

But it was hard, when Talia al Ghul kidnapped him while he was on mission in England.

Strung him up and got right in his face.

Hers was not a face he wanted to see.

“Talia,” he snarled, flexing his hands, testing his strength against the bat-thing that held him tight.

It would take a remarkable show of strength to free himself. He wasn’t sure he could. Even if he did, there were half a dozen more of the bat-things all around him. He knew himself outnumbered when he saw it.

He was just thankful Tim had taken the weekend off, rather than accompanying him on this trip.

“What do you want, Talia,” he spat, when she came too close, running her fingers across his chest. He had no interest in her. And she should know that by now.

She had killed any chance of there being anything between them eleven years prior.

And then burned it to the ground when she stole their son away from him.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Beloved,” she drawled, pulling away from Bruce and drawing her sword. She toyed with it, staring at the blade in her hand, without saying anything further.

“What. Do. You. Want,” he ground out. Games were also not something he was interested in.

“Hm,” she hummed, still toying with her blade for a moment before finally asking, “You remember our son?”

“How could I forget,” he growled. If she had merely kidnapped him to taunt him…

He might need to call in Clark to hold him back. He pulled at his arms again, and could feel the give in his captors’ hold. Knew, if he pulled his arms in just the right way, kicked his legs back at just the right moment, he’d be able to free himself easily.

“Hm. Yes, well,” she said, waving a hand at him, as if dismissing his anger, “He has grown wild. I can no longer control him.”

His sweet little baby?

Unlikely.

“What did you do to him?” he shouted, seriously contemplating calling in Clark. Because he was not sure he’d be able to control himself if he found out Damian had been mistreated in any way.

And he couldn’t think of a single other explanation for his Damian turning ‘wild.’ Not his sweet little baby who loved animals and was so gentle. So empathetic. So kind.

“Do not be so dramatic,” Talia snapped, “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Happy about what.”

“He needs… taming,” she said, twirling her sword around, a little, before she sheathed it again, “He lacks discipline. I had hoped some time with his father would straighten him out.”

“Time with,” he started, only to fumble over his words.

Was she…

Introducing him to Damian?

Why… why would she… after all these years…?

What was her game?

“You’ll hear from me soon, Beloved, though I’ll imagine you’ll be busy. I intend to hold the whole world hostage.”

Bruce tried to look back up at her, to ask her what the fuck that meant, but his head was pushed forward by one of the man-bats, and the entire world seemed to freeze.

Because a small child had materialized before him.

A… boy.

His boy.

In the eight years since he’d seen Damian, he had changed so much, but at the same time, not at all.

He had the same nose. The same… little button nose he’d had, as a baby. The same bright green eyes.

The same scowl.

“Damian,” he whispered, looking Damian up and down, trying to commit every little detail to memory.

“Father,” Damian responded, pushing his sword forward, almost touching Bruce’s neck, “I imagined you taller.”

“You-“ Bruce started, but had to stop. Because he was overcome with laughter.

The man-bats let go of him, and Bruce slumped to the ground, right to his knees, only keeping himself upright with his hands as his laughter turned a tad hysteric.

His little boy.

His little boy, was standing right in front of him. Was… Was within reach.

Was coming home with him.

“You are the great warrior Mother has told me about?” Damian asked skeptically, his sword now sheathed.

That was enough to pull Bruce back to the moment. He sniffed, and sat back so he could get a good look at his little boy.

“Hi, Damian,” he said, smiling a little, to force the overwhelming urge to weep to go away.

Damian scowled, a little, and shot Bruce as critical look. “How do you know my name?”

“What?”

Out of all the things Damian could ask…

“My name. Mother said you did not know of me. She did not tell you my name just now. How do you know it?”

“I- What?” Bruce repeated.

“You are not as intelligent as Mother claimed. Shame.”

“Damian,” he said, slowly, “You- you lived with me. For almost a year, as an infant.”

“Tt,” he huffed, rolling his eyes dramatically, “Now you are suggesting my mother is a liar. She has done a lot of things, but she has never lied to me.”

“Just, come here,” Bruce said, looping an arm around Damian’s shoulders and tugging him close, “I have missed you so much.”

Damian tensed in Bruce’s arms, but didn’t push him away. That is, not until Bruce started crying.

Bruce didn’t blame him. He’d be uncomfortable, too, if a stranger claiming to know and love him started crying into his hair.

They had so much ground to recover.

- - -

Damian was a massive brat.

Bruce felt like a terrible parent for thinking such a thing about his own son, but Damian was downright horrible.

He did nothing but yell and scream and throw things around. He fought with Alfred. Fought with Bruce.

Hated Tim.

Considering the boy had attempted to push Tim off the top level of the cave, that first night Bruce brought him home, he couldn’t trust Damian anywhere near Tim.

And Tim hated Damian in return.

Or, at least, considered him to be the ‘son of satan’ and avoided him at all costs.

Bruce wasn’t sure how to make his family all mesh together. Wasn’t sure how to get Damian to calm down and give them all a shot.

All those years Bruce had imagined, fantasized with it would be like to get Damian back, never once had he considered he might not like the boy.

He still loved him, of course. Loved him so much it hurt.

His son was finally home, and his home had been thrown into pure chaos.

Handing Damian the cow had been a difficult decision.

For eight years, that cow had been all Bruce had. The only physical reminder he had of the little boy he’d lost.

Damian and Cow had been inseparable, when he was an infant. Bruce had bought three more, the very second he realized how attached to the dumb toy Damian had become. He had four of those cows, and when Talia’s men took Damian, they’d taken none of them.

It’d been a stab in his heart, every time he looked at cow. Knowing how scared Damian would be without it. How upset.

Knowing Damian likely cried for weeks, if not months, for that stupid cow.

And in the eight years since Damian’s kidnapping, Bruce had become a little attached to the cow, himself. It sat on his bed stand. Right next to his favorite photo of Damian. He pat cow’s head every night, as if doing so would be telling his own little boy ‘good night, I love you.’

Just like he’d done every single night Damian lived with him.

Handing Damian that cow was difficult. Because Damian destroyed everything he was given. He was violent. He threw tantrums.

And he was, above all, not a child.

But Cow belonged to Damian, and Bruce was unable to put it off any longer.

“Damian,” he said, knocking on his boy’s door, allowing it to creak open as he did, “I wanted to give you something.”

“What is it now,” Damian started, but paused when he got a look at the toy in Bruce’s hand. Bruce walked over to the bed where Damian was reading and held it out, for Damian to take.

But instead, Damian just said, “That’s… Mr. Cow.”

“Yeah,” Bruce said, laughing a little to cover up the desire to cry.

Because Damian remembered.

“I—“ Bruce started, “He was yours. When you lived here. I’ve— I’ve kept him in my room, ever since you left. To remind me of you. But, he was yours, so I thought I should give him back.”

“Why,” Damian said, slowly, in the least snotty tone Bruce had heard yet, “Why do I remember a stupid toy but I do not remember you?”

Bruce sighed, and sat down on the bed next to his son. He placed Cow down in Damian’s lap, even though Damian made not move to take it.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. He’d been a little distraught when none of the photos had jogged anything.

He hadn’t specifically expected Damian to remember things from when he was 20-months-old, but to have his own boy accuse him of doctoring the photos, just to “get into his head” and “paint his mother as the liar” had hurt.

“You were young. Most people don’t remember much from before the age of three, and you weren’t even two when you left.”

“But I remember the cow.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, placing his arm behind Damian as he leaned back, “You couldn’t sleep without the damn thing. My guess is you cried for it every night for months, after you left. It probably stuck with you because of that.”

“Oh.” Damian placed his hand on cow’s head and stroked. Just once. Before his cheeks flushed and he yanked his hand away sharply.

“I’m really happy you’re back,” Bruce said, moving his hand so it was sitting on Damian’s shoulder. Damian still didn’t let him hug him, but at least he didn’t shrug his hand away. “I hope you know that. I want nothing more than to get to know you.”

“Thank you, Father,” Damian said crisply, then faltered before adding, much less confidently, “I have always wished to… know you.”

Bruce couldn’t help it. He pulled Damian in by the hand on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around. “Well, I’m glad we have this chance, then.”

For once, Damian didn’t fight him. He did fidget, a little, with Cow started to fall, but he caught the little toy and held it a little more securely while Bruce rested his head down on Damian’s hair.

And when Damian didn’t push him away for several minutes, Bruce started to think… maybe Damian wasn’t a hopeless case, after all.

#this is your fault #also it turned a little sweeter than I first thought it would so :)#happy ending #i'll post this to ao3 in a couple days #or maybe tomorrow #idk #wanna put some time between the new chapter and it #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #robin #batfam #batfamily #fanfiction #c writes #pennyverse #sort of alt universe #remember i aged dick up for this fic #Anonymous

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unmeiverse-nextadventures · 3 years

Text

(kinda) New Kids

aka I was unable to control myself and these guys happened. I’m not adding them to my Self-Imposed Challenge but they may get some headshots, I mean Nakhil already has one with his stepbrothers and Audouin may be getting one soonerish.

Just having this post so I can keep track since there’s like...a lot now. They’re more or less listed chronologically from slightly oldest addition (as in i thought of them almost immediately after typing up my challenge) to the most recent. Content in [ ] are specifically my meta thoughts.

EDIT 6/27/2021: Kiyo (formerly Seine)’s info here is now mostly outdated. Also belated but Gina’s info here is also outdated but hers wasnt really set in stone to begin with

Jason & Camille Pensée-Lino

Grant and Viola’s twins

Jason is the older twin, Camille is younger twin. Camille identifies as genderqueer

Kinda typical outgoing-reserved twin dynamic

[Had always been meaning to give Grant (and Viola) children since Siebold and Valerie have kids. Wanted all three of this trio to have kids that hang out and spend time together]

Both of them are more likely to be into artistic stuff, though they need more development in general.

Shank, Amber, and Umi Mizoguchi

Brawly and Roxanne’s children

Shank is the eldest son, his real name “Hagi” is in honor of Old Man Briney who passed away a year before he was born. Amber is their only daughter and her real name is “Kohaku” which is basically just ‘amber’ in Japanese. Umi is their youngest son and kinda happened on accident but they love him.

[Honestly all three of them just suddenly snuck up on me but I am committed, plus always need some more Hoenn kids]

Shank is into water sports but mainly surfing and sailing. Amber works for Devon Corp either during or after becoming the next Rock-type Gym Leader. Both of them probably have ties to the reformed Team Aqua and Team Magma, respectively. I still need to develop what the former villain teams are up to during fankid era

Umi is just baby but that can change if/when I decide to get more invested in this family

Daphné Carnet

Diantha’s adopted daughter

[I wanted a fankid to carry on the “Carnet” surname and didn’t feel like having Ilima and Mina’s kids change theirs and I had always been toying with giving Diantha a daughter]

She has a bit of a backstory already! A super tldr is she was a runaway from a bad household and had befriended Diantha a year or two before getting formally adopted by her. A bit like Emma’s background really.

Also is another reincarnation kid and there’s more relevant drama with the circumstances of her past life.

[The next four boys also have more detailed and unnecessarily drama-filled backstories]

Nakhil Ali-Campwright

Raihan’s son

[I just went wild one night and decided to throw some more drama at Raihan and also kinda wanted a younger sibling for Eric and George.]

He was the result of a one-night stand that Raihan didn’t know resulted in a baby until Nakhil’s mom was arrested and the young infant was found severely neglected. This all caused quite the scandal for Raihan.

[Also he kinda exists to have Milo and Raihan have something to bond over (aka raising a kid solo along w stress of a scandal) while unintentionally also feeding into Eric’s inferiority and guilt complex]

He does end up growing up in a loving family with his fathers and brothers! May need to develop him more but for now he’s fine as sweet baby

Seine Mandragora

Ryuki’s son

[Also another case of a kid that just snuck up on me. Though I can say it was most likely because I saw Ryuki’s actual eyes in the anime and thought it’d be a cute look on a kid of his]

He was the result of a fling/one-night stand sort of thing between Ryuki and a fan of his. Said fan was either engaged or married at the time.

Seine ended up growing up not knowing he wasn’t his dad’s son until at some point in his teens he gets caught in an argument with his parents in which oops its revealed. While the argument and drama does get resolved somehow he still gets curious and decides to meet up with his bio dad, Ryuki.

The two end up bonding like how they do in those films where the main dude suddenly becomes a father/father-figure to a troubled kid, but Seine doesn’t stay with him. They do keep in touch though.

[He doesn’t have much role beyond this little side-story and possibly encountering Astra, Hoshi, and Vivi during their Island Challenge. Possibly also ends up accompanying Chase during one of his travels in another region. Also definitely has strong affinity for Dragon-types so could do something there.]

Momo Ryouji

Lance’s much younger half-brother

[Really a result of me wanting to create a Lance kid but having trouble with the fact I don’t ship him with anyone and just didn’t feel like going the other routes I did with some other characters for this]

The result of an affair Lance’s late father had with a much younger woman, though the rest of the clan find out only after Momo’s mother dies as well. Lance’s mother knew beforehand, having met her while visiting her late husband’s grave. As much as she wanted to raise the boy herself she was also too old already. The other clan members wanted to get rid of him but Lance steps in to be his guardian.

[While a lot of him is still pretty vague and undecided I’m committed to him existing. Very tempted to have him be a sort of mish mash of Red, Green, Gold, and Silver’s traits, given that Lance also had experience being a mentor/father/older brother figure to those four. Plus like Hoenn I need more kids for Kanto and Johto]

Audouin Dulcis

Dulse and Calem’s son

[This ship has always been at the back of my mind because of how events go down in my au wherein they do get to meet and interact while in Alola. Read here for me rambling a bit about them. Anyway talking with @pokemon-legends-and-legacies and @pkmnomegaverse finally made me crack and give them a kid]

Fully taking advantage of the “bizarre alien biology/reproduction” trope for this. Specifically the current scenario is Calem just kisses Dulse’s hand and that is enough to acquire a copy of his DNA.

Dulse ends up having Audouin by himself, but single parenthood is the norm in their homeworld anyway and he’s already had experience raising Zossie (more as a younger sister but still) so he doesn’t really see it necessary to try and reconnect with Calem to tell him about their son.

Audouin takes heavily after Dulse in appearance and personality, albeit more expressive.

[Currently still going through the possible routes aka does Calem meet him or not and all the possible interactions with Calem’s other children, but so far the route appealing to me is where they end up meeting and Audouin and the Narcillard kids get along, in contrast to their not-Calem dads who can’t stand each other lmao. In any case, Dulse still mostly remains a single father but Audouin would drag them to Calem’s world spend time with his half siblings and other parent at least every four years after the initial meeting.]

undercut is the one kid in fankid limbo

Gina (short for Aubergina)

Korrina’s daughter

Mostly Im thinking I need more Aura capable kids and a Korrina kid would be cute, plus the top candidate for her dad atm is Wally but since I have him as Hoenn Champ if he was her dad he’d be a disappeared dad who didn’t even know he was a dad

Kinda really want to go the single mom route for Korrina

I honestly don’t have much reason to be attached or invested in her at all yet, maybe if a good dynamic with some of the other kids comes up or I make a better drama backstory that I would like, idk

#long post #fankid musings #log #unmv jason #unmv camille #unmv shank #unmv amber #unmv umi #unmv daphne #unmv nakhil #unmv kiyo #unmv momo #unmv audouin

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completelypeccable · 4 years

Text

Unfortunately, I thought of a real plot

Can I Have This Dance? (new title)

There’s drama in the Batfam, with a song about dancing somehow worked into each chapter. Something is wrong again, and the family is falling apart. Now, they have to put the pieces back together. But the thing about puzzles is you can only figure out the full picture by coming together.

Chp. 2 We don’t have to dance

The phone was ringing.

Tim was awake, of course. The pale yellow dawn had begun to creep into the apartment, the cozy glow illuminating last night’s exploits. Twin controllers on the floor. Styrofoam takeout boxes that should be in the trash, not on his already messy table. And, his favorite part, his brothers snuggled together on his couch.

He had been perfectly happy to take the chair.

Tim looked at the caller ID. Bruce. His fingers found the power button, sending it to voicemail.

It was the first call since he carried Damian hyperventilating out of the gala seven hours earlier.

If he cares so much about where Damian is, Tim thought bitterly, let him figure it out. Use those big boy detective skills.

Tim turned back to his laptop screen, where he had been editing his report on the recent Teen Titan mission. The past few weeks or so had been a blur. The team foiled a plot to blow up half of São Paulo, culminating in a chase by air which Tim, as a non-super, had probably no business participating in, but inserting himself where he had no business was pretty much his mode of operation. Then, with that finished and the criminals entering international custody, Tim had been planning on a night of video games and report writing when he got the call from Dick.

Tim glanced at the couch and realized he probably would never quite get used to this sight. He spent about an hour staring between the hours of 3 and 4 alone. Curse Dick and his bleeding heart, his was getting infected, too. It was just so cute.

Jason was lying on his back, one arm behind his head, the other hooked all the way around Damian’s little body. His eyebrows were knit together, so he looked concerned and vaguely grumpy- a sleep softened version of Red Hood’s ‘don’t even try it’ look. He was protecting precious cargo.

Damian had wiggled his face into the skin of Jason’s neck and chest, his mouth just open, face completely relaxed in the deep sleep of an exhausted child. An extended panic attack will do that to you, Tim thought. Jason’s hand rested on the skin of the pushed out belly peeking out of his t-shirt. The kid always seemed to gravitate towards skin-to-skin contact, as if he was finally going through the infant stages of emotional development. Which was entirely possible, considering they were the first people he was truly safe around. The thought twisted in Tim’s gut. Convincing Damian the league’s actions were wrong was about as difficult as convincing him they would never be like them: slow going but definitely rewarding. Tim could barely believe there was a time he would have punted the kid out an open window if given the chance. He felt a bit guilty, but he knew they had both changed since then.

Damian was completely pressed up against Jason, but his feet barely reached his mid-thigh. Even though Jason was a big guy, the size comparison was still nothing short of completely adorable, and Dick, Duke, and the girls had been sent multiple pictures already. The baby curls of his soft, short hair poofed up like they did every morning before he tried to gel them into spikes. One hand twisted into the front of Jason’s shirt.

The weighted Robin-themed blanket had fallen off the couch in the middle of the night, and Tim slipped it back up to his brothers’ shoulders gently on his way to the kitchen.

Coffee was the order of the morning. He’d make a pot: four cups for him, one for Jason. If he had to deal with Bruce, he wanted to do it with some semblance of control.

By the time he walked back into the room, Jason was awake, staring at the ceiling as he ran his hand up-down along Damian’s spine.

“Morning,” Tim whispered, sitting next to him in the chair.

“Nerd,” Jason scoffed, smirking.

He choked and spit out his coffee. “Dude!”

“What? You sound like an old man.”

“Why did I let you stay at my place, again?”

“It’s because you love me.”

“I’d love to hit you.”

Jason was entirely too satisfied. “Can’t hit me when I’m holding a baby.”

Tim scowled into his cup. He couldn’t argue, though. Last night, they realized they didn’t have any of Damian’s clothes at the apartment, so Jason gave him an old t-shirt and Tim got him a pair of boxers with ties around the waist. The t shirt alone went to his knees.

He was tiny.

The phone started buzzing again.

“Tell me it’s not-“

“I wish I could.” He declined the call.

Jason shifted up, swearing.

“Hey! Be-“

“He’s sound asleep,” he grumbled, arranging the kid so he was leaning against his chest, blanket curled around him. “Look at this sleepy burrito boy.”

They gazed softly as Damian sucked in a shaky breath, whined, and cuddled in further, gripping Jason’s shirt tighter.

The phone buzzed.

“Mother- Does he not get that we’re ignoring him?”

Tim hit decline call. “He will eventually.”

Damian’s feet twitched, and Jason held him just a bit tighter, one hand at the base of his neck, the other smoothing a circle into his back. His lips and brows ran in parallel lines across his worried face.

“I don’t think he’s going to wake up any time soon,” Tim said, noting the brood session.

Jason grumbled.

“I’m going to text the girls, tell them to postpone their plans.”

“Mm.”

“Let’s do the zoo trip tomorrow. It looks like Damian is wiped out.”

“Mm.”

“Take today to deal with Bruce.”

“Mm.”

“Give zombie boy here time to develop organized speech.”

“M- wait,” Jason broke out of his thousand yard stare. “What did you say you little crap stain?”

Tim cackled, but held the phone steady.

“Do not send that snap, Tim, I swear I’m gonna-“

“Can’t hit me when you’re holding the baby,” Tim sang, scooting backwards, already hitting the contacts for Steph and Cass.

Jason swore.

…

They laid around the apartment for a few more hours, Tim working on his laptop and Jason reading The Outsiders while Damian slept. Jason kept a shelf of old novels at Tim’s place; it wasn’t uncommon for one to spend the night at the other’s. They kept an eye on each other like that, knowing too much time alone tended to do more harm than good.

The silence itself wasn’t uncomfortable, but Tim could have used a distraction from his own thoughts.

This was a big deal. He and Jason were trying to downplay it, keep it together for the kid, but they knew.

They were essentially disowning their dad.

And it wasn’t like this was a sudden decision either, it had been something on the horizon for months, a serious topic of discussion among the older kids for three weeks now. These past few days may have forced their hand, but the hurt was still the same.

Bruce had never been the ideal parent. He was gruff, he usually didn’t have the words, and he literally had a t-shirt that said “Emotions are my enemy”. But he had loved them. At least, Tim hoped. He had made Bruce his life, let his business become his work, held his mission in his hands like a guiding light. He had been so lonely, left neglected in an old, empty house. Bruce got him out, introduced him to a world that never stopped expanding, and gave him access to the tools he needed to change it.

But lately, Bruce seemed… different. Tim thought when he brought him back, everything would be okay. Everything would be understandable and solid again. Tim had felt so sad and confused without his dad. His grief was overwhelming. But Bruce came back, and Tim was so glad, he was sure that would fix it.

Instead, he was even more confused. His dad was unrecognizable in and out of the cowl. Bruce yelled at him over everything, cut off communication and left. Batman… Batman hit him. Tim touched his jaw, trying to control his anxiety.

Dick had found something, videos deleted off the bat computer. He hadn’t recovered all of it, but what he found was evidence enough. Tim wasn’t the only one Batman was getting more violent with.

There were three videos. The Batman beating thugs within an inch of their life. Screaming at Robin. In one, right after throwing a man off the roof, Batman turned with his armed raised and Robin flinched so hard he fell over.

That was bad enough. But there was missing information, hours of footage gone. And that scared them even more. Tim couldn’t stop his mind from running through every single possibility. He could never shut it off.

A stomach growled, and Tim looked up to his brother trying to flip the page with his nose.

Finally, an external stimulus.

“If you’re hungry, Jason, I can get you something to eat.”

Jason scoffed, finding his nose a bit too large to be useful. “What do you have, pickles and mustard?”

“Ha, ha,” Tim closed his laptop. “You only get the mayonnaise now.”

“Good thing that wasn’t my stomach.”

Another gurgle, and Damian’s face scrunched up.

Tim paused on his way to the fridge and blinked for a minute, not sure if they should let him sleep or wake him up, but by the time he made a decision, the kid’s eyelashes fluttered apart on their own.

His green eyes crossed and uncrossed in narrow slits. When they focused, they found Jason’s chin, and he scrambled to sit up.

“Woah there, squirt,” Jason tugged him back down, going back to rubbing his back. Damian grumbled and frowned, but let his head fall back down.

“Just take a minute, remember where you are and all that fun stuff.”

Tim cleared some room to sit, moving aside paperwork on the table next to the couch.

Damian’s face twisted for a beat before he pushed himself up again with a huff. Tim had to hand it to him for not immediately falling down.

“Alright, Todd. I remember now. Unhand me and I’ll return to Father’s soon.”

“Ha! Nope.” Jason sat up and yanked him onto his lap.

Damian scowled and threw his head back dramatically.

“Do not suffer me this injustice, Todd.”

Tim smirked. Damian was very clearly not yet awake, what with the slightly unfocused eyes and leaning into Jason’s chest. “Suffer”, he said.

“Sorry, baby bat. You’re not going back to the manor.”

That seemed to wake him up more. He jerked around to look at Jason’s nose, then his eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not going back to the manor.”

“Oh,” he said, a blank look on his face. “I am staying here today?”

“Mm.”

“Zombie boy.”

“Shut UP, Tim!”

Tim laughed. Damian still hadn’t gotten off Jason’s lap, hadn’t leaned away from the hand on his back.

“Is Father away again?” He asked instead, clearly confused. Tim would bet his last jar of peanut butter that Damian was still fuzzy on why exactly he woke up on Jason in this apartment.

“Something like that.”

“Father has left me home many times, Todd. Pennyworth is usually around, unless he is with Father.”

Jason didn’t react, but looked at Tim over the kid’s head.

“What do you mean by that?”

Damian fiddled with the blanket, pinching it up and poking it back down.

“It’s just that, he is busy. He’s home when he can be.”

Tim didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t like the sound of his voice, the hollow loneliness. He suddenly felt pissed.

“Damian,” Tim said evenly. “When was the last time you talked to Bruce.”

“Batman and I-“

Jason tapped his nose, and he crossed his eyes to follow it. “No, Damian. Just Bruce.”

Damian looked at one brother, then the other. They could see the way he was reaching back in his still foggy memory, trying to figure out the answer they wanted to hear.

“No bullshit, kid,” Jason warned.

Damian looked to the side, schooled his face into a blank expression, and looked Tim in the eyes.

“It has been a while. Father is often… upset with Robin.”

Jason rubbed his back again.

“Alright,” Tim said. He was going to kill Bruce. “You’re staying with me this week, anyways.”

“What?”

“You,” Tim shifted to poke Damian’s nose. His eyes crossed, and Jason grinned. “You are gonna stay with me.”

“For an entire week?”

“Yup.”

“And I am not going back to Father’s?”

“Nope.”

“I… do not have clothes.”

“I grabbed a bag when I visited yesterday.”

“You probably missed-“

“Alfred packed it.”

“Oh,” he blinked, glancing back and forth at them. “And Todd?”

“Does what he wants, thank you,” Jason tickled his side. Damian swatted at his face, falling off his lap. Tim caught him by the armpits and helped him back on the couch.

“Don’t make him hit his head. I really don’t want to make an ER visit outside the mask.”

Jason rolled his eyes, then turned, trapping Damian with his legs.

“Get off me, you massive troll!”

“Just when I thought you loved me.”

“Careful, Jason, he’s hangry, remember?”

“I am not!” Damian’s stomach protested the statement, and he looked down betrayed.

Laughing hard enough to rock forward, Tim hit his head on Jason’s knee.

“Now who needs an ER visit?”

“Ugh, you two are the worst.”

“We did not cause you to become an uncoordinated hyena.”

“Harsh words from a chipmunk.”

“Hey!”

“Children, please,” Jason smiled. “We have to feed the wildlife. It pisses off the government.”

Tim stared at Jason for a good long while.

“Okay, I’m not gonna… Who wants breakfast?”

Jason made to stand up, but fell back on Damian, who yelped before being squashed.

“Todd! What are you-“

“Damian,” he whined. “I am so hurt. You called this weirdo over here Timothy last night. Timothy!”

“What?!”

“And you only call me Todd.”

“Get off-“

“Not until you call me Jason!” He met Tim’s incredulous look and raised his eyebrows convincingly.

“Todd, I will stab your kidneys.”

“Will you call me Jason after?”

“Not likely.”

“Boo!”

Damian began to squirm, but Jason leaned more of his weight on him and he growled in frustration.

Tim sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “Jason, it’s too early for-“

“Shush.”

“No,” Damian grunted. “Listen to Timothy!”

Jason leaned his face directly into his field of vision. “Bruh.”

“No.”

“Jason”

“No.”

“Jay?”

“No.”

“Big Jay?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Dames,” he whined. “I wanna be your favorite.”

“That’s Richard,” he smirked.

Jason grinned at Tim, who started to back away waving his hands.

“Oh, no. I don’t want any part in this, whatever this is.”

The wicked look in Jason’s eye grew worse. He flipped off the kid, just to jab his fingers into his armpit.

Damian immediately began to thrash.

“No!” He kicked the man’s stomach. “Stop!”

“Call me Jason!”

“No,” he choked, “never!”

“I can do this all day, kid!”

Damian fell off the couch, and Jason trapped him between his knees on the floor. He would have hit him again if his arms weren’t trying to protect himself from the attack.

“You have,” he gasped, “no-“ a squeal. “Mercy!”

Jason laughed then. “All you gotta do is say my name!”

“Todd!”

“Nope,” Jason moved on to his belly.

“No!” He giggled, “Stop, I!”

Jason made a goofy face and tickled harder.

“Jason!” He gasped, belly laughing.“ Jason, I yield!”

Jason opened his legs, and he shot out, scrambling onto the arm of the couch.

Jason whooped and held up his arms in victory.

Damian glared at Tim.

“Traitor,” he grumbled.

Tim laughed and held up three spoons and a jar of peanut butter.

“If you losers are done, I have peanut butter and pretzels for breakfast.”

“It’s nearly noon.”

“And we are breaking the fast. Ergo breakfast.”

“Fine,” Damian flopped onto the cushions, hiding his smile. “I will extract my vengeance at a later time for this injustice.”

“Oh, Timmy, the chipmunk just chirped at me!”

“Aw, Jay Jay, he’s so cute!”

“I can kill you eight different ways with that spoon.”

“Do you want us to feed you? With the choo choo train?”

Jason caught the pillow before it hit his face.

“I can and will use lethal force, Todd!”

“Jason.”

“Jason Todd.”

“Baby steps,” he chuckled.

Tim smiled as he scooped his own portion of peanut butter. The sirens in his head were easier to ignore. He watched Jason wiggle his fingers menacingly, then take a pillow to the face

He plopped the bag of pretzels on the table, inserting himself between the two. “Eat your shut up peanut butter.”

Jason stuck out his tongue, but grabbed a spoon.

“And after this, we’re cleaning my apartment.”

Jason looked horrified.

Tim felt no remorse. “If you guys are going to be staying here, we need to clean it. I’ve barely been here the last two months, and I do not trust my own cleanliness.”

Damian raised his eyebrow, “If the pizza under your bed has gained sentience again, I am not touching it.”

“Eat,” Tim glared, “your shut up pretzels, veggie boy.”

“Gladly.”

…

Damian stood and joined his hands together behind his back in a fair imitation of Alfred, if Alfred wore a Gotham Knight’s muumuu.

“I shall put on music, so that the arduous task of tidying this hovel is mildly less gruesome.”

“If you think,” Jason closed one eye and pointed his spoon, “that I’m gonna let you put on a classical music playlist, you are crazier than a bag full of cats.”

“A bag of cats sounds quite enjoyable, actually.”

“Metaphor, Dames.”

“I am aware.”

“And it means?”

“… I am very crazy?”

Jason held up his hand, and Damian returned the high five.

“Alright, ladies. Cleaning time.” Tim stood and took the spoons on his way to the kitchen.

Jason made a show of selecting his playlist titled ‘I Wanna Commit A Crime’ (we’re vigilantes Tim, it’s in our job description). Apparently, emo rock music was the ideal cleaning soundtrack.

Tim laughed at Damian’s concerned frown over Jason’s head banging as he washed the dishes.

He was just finishing up when Jason came in, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

“If you have time to lean, you have time to clean,” he grinned.

He turned around, planning on flicking water at him, but stopped at the serious look on Jason’s face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you want a list?”

“Jason, don’t do this to me. I have anxiety.”

Jason shrugged, chewing on the inside of his lip.

“I just want to make sure you’re doing okay with all this.”

Tim really didn’t want to deal with this conversation yet. He didn’t want to deal with any conversation.

“I’m fine.”

Jason’s brows became a shelf again. He scuffed his foot.

“You keep doing the finger thing.”

“The finger thing.”

“You know,” Jason huffed. “The thing you do when you twitch your fingers and start tapping out random- I don’t know how to use words, okay? English wasn’t my first language, you butt. Just- You’re upset.”

Tim leaned against the sink. “I mean, I think we all are.”

An ambulance passed by the window, and they watched the lights pass by several floors below.

“I’m glad you came by,” Tim finally said. “You really helped Damian last night.”

Jason pushed off the wall and pulled him into a one armed hug. “I came for you both, you know.”

Tim closed his eyes, leaning his head against his brother’s shoulder. The buzz in his chest felt a little less overwhelming.

A car honked, and a thud came from the other room. Muffled complaining followed. Jason laughed, ruffling Tim’s hair as he made his way to the door.

No rest for the weary, Tim smiled and tied off the garbage. It was starting to really smell.

“Be right back!” He yelled as he stepped out the door, locking it behind him.

He did feel better, knowing that Jason was there. Once Dick came, they could really talk everything over, and Tim would relax then. But he was content at the moment. He would just ignore it for now. He was content. It was fine. It was-

He sent the bag down the chute.

Actually, this whole situation was garbage.

Who did Bruce think he was? When did he ever become the type to hit his own kids? It was wrong, it was so wrong. Red Robin wanted to punch him in the face, especially when he heard him over the comms from countries away scolding Damian for things he told him to do.

And he didn’t care what was going to happen. He didn’t care if he got screamed at, or fired, or- or- he didn’t know! He didn’t care! Tim was not giving Damian back to anyone. Bruce didn’t deserve that kid. He was stubborn sometimes, and prickly, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like that. He had been through more than any of them knew, and he needed someone that loved him unconditionally. Bruce wasn’t that. Bruce was acting like a huge jerk-

He slammed open the door to his floor to be confronted with a man’s back, hand raised to knock.

Speak of the damned devil.

“What do you want,” Tim spat.

Calm down.

He clenched his jaw, because as much as he wanted to fly off the handle, that would probably make things worse.

Bruce turned around slowly. He looked him up and down before putting his hands in his pockets. His smile was easy and so Brucie stupid.

Tim wanted to hit him back.

“You took Damian home last night.”

“Yep.”

“I came to take him home.”

“Yeah,” Tim glared. “No.”

Bruce quirked one brow. He let the silence hang for a beat.

His thumb tapped frantically against his fist. If he doesn’t leave, I am going to do something I’m gonna regret.

“You’re angry.”

“Great job, detective.”

“That’s… fair.”

Bruce shrugged, still smug and unaffected. Tim just glared. He didn’t want to do this.

“I’m-“

“You should go, Bruce.”

Surprise flashed briefly through his eyes before it was replaced by annoyance.

“Look, Tim, you know how Damian gets-“

“Kay.”

“I’m just here to-”

“Nope.”

An exhale.

“I’m just here to take him back home and talk to him.”

“Oh,” the cold in his tone hurt him as he spoke, but it was too late to stop. “Now you’re going to talk to your own kid?”

Bruce stared. Tim stepped forward, the picture of casual.

“Not last night. Not last week apparently. Maybe all month. You’ve been too busy to deal with your own kid, but you’re ready now.”

“Tim, I-“

“No, just shut up, actually. How long did it take you to realize he wasn’t even in the same building as you anymore? Did you even care?”

“Of course I-“

“Shut- Ugh! I’m not doing this for you, B. This wasn’t a babysitting job. I don’t care what you think. You’re not taking Damian back. Me and Dick and the rest of them talked it over. You don’t deserve that kid.”

The flip switched, and Bruce was angry. His shirt pulled tight across his shoulders.

Tim widened his stance.

“And you do, of course.”

“I care about him more than you do.”

“I do care!”

“Could have fooled me!”

Bruce was tense from his shoulder to his fist. Tim belatedly notice he had gotten in his face.

“You don’t-“

Tim threw up his hands and walked past. “Have to talk to you.”

“What? Listen-“

“I don’t have to talk to you. I’m keeping the kid, so-“

Bruce grabbed his shoulder hard, “Actually, Timothy, I have custody, so-“

Huh. Tim turned and smiled, cold and clinical. Just like Janet, they liked to say. Bruce looked unnerved for one satisfying moment and dropped his hand.

Tim stepped close, his nose inches from Bruce’s chin, devastatingly sharp.

“But you don’t, actually.”

“What the hell are you-”

“You supposedly died, remember?” Tim rolled his eyes. “Everyone thought so. Did you think we could just leave Damian in the custody of a dead man?”

“But I-“

“Came back, obviously. But we didn’t change the paperwork. Just in case.”

Bruce looked wonderfully, furiously constipated.

Tim turned his back on him and slowly pulled his keys from his pocket. “So, no, I don’t have to do this with you. You’ve changed, Bruce. And who you are now, you don’t belong raising a kid as emotionally fragile as Damian. I don’t have to pretend to be okay with it, and I don’t even have to like you. Because you have no right to be here.”

“I am his father, Tim.”

“And sometimes fathers are neglectful and abusive.”

The space behind him stayed silent. Bruce didn’t even move. Tim flicked through the key ring.

“And as far as the state and the press is concerned, Damian is adopted. Showed up at age 10, clearly not white. You had adoption papers filed, Bruce.”

“Tim, you can’t be-“

“I am, and you should go.”

“Tim-“

“It’s been so nice to see you Bruce. Let’s not talk again soon.”

Bruce stood a moment longer before turning sharply and storming down the hall. The doors slammed shut, but Tim stood there gripping the keys and shaking. He wanted to scream.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, feeling the cool air travel into his nostrils, down his throat, past his vocal cords, trachea, bronchi, bronchioles, and down to his alveoli. Left lung, right lung, into the blood stream the oxygen diffuses. He thought of Jason tickling Damian, and the kid calling him Timothy as he held him against his chest. He breathed out the waste.

He looked down at his shaking hands, where his grip on the keys drew blood, and wiped them on his pants before turning the lock and opening the door to-

“Timothy!” Damian ran forward, “Timothy you love this song!”

Tim really looked at him, the way his hair stuck up in three different places, the dust streak on his cheek. His eyes danced just like they always did when he was trying so hard to make one of them happy. His hands were out to the side, and that grin. He really was Timothy now. Huh.

He was worth it. This kid was worth it.

Jason danced out of the bathroom just as the chorus hit, singing loudly and mildly off key.

We don’t have to talk

We don’t have to dance

Damian grabbed his arm, dragging away from Jason.

We don’t have to smile

We don’t have to make friends

Jason chased them, sing-screaming along.

It’s so nice to meet you,

Let’s never meet again!

We don’t have to talk

We don’t have to dance!

We don’t have to dance

The song was at least an understandable statement, Tim thought. It was kind of a dance, or a stand off. He knew as soon as he took Dick’s side that he was cutting the last of the ties between him and the man who adopted him.

He was fatherless again.

He watched as Jason tried to get Damian to do the Macarena, only to get a towel to the butt.

He would make it through this.

Jason chased Damian around the kitchen, insisting he try the snorkel, the shopping cart, no the sprinkler!

Tim laughed, even knowing all that he did. That his nighttime gig would definitely change, that he would have to quit his day job.

It will be okay, he thought, when Damian rolled his eyes and tisked at Jason long enough for him to be swung over his shoulders as he jumped around the kitchen.

It might be better than okay, he thought as he opened up his laptop to hit send on one more application, which he had written as Damian slept.

Jason called for help, and Tim let the tension leave his body, exhaled it out in one breath, and joined them. He grabbed Damian from Jason’s arms and was spinning him around the living room by the next chorus.

#batfam #family drama #Damian Wayne #jason todd #Tim Drake #they're good boys #jason is into conspiracy theories #but like #only to mess with the others

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stusbunker · 5 years

Text

The Wife She Was Never Meant To Be

For Better or Worst: Chapter Eleven

Featuring: Sam x Emery Simmons-Winchester (OFC)

Other Characters: Mary Winchester, Jack Kline, Dumah, Bandit (OC), neighbors Jason, Trudy and Dylan (OCs)

Season 14 AU

Word Count: 2121

Summary: Jack is confronted about his extracurricular activities. A pointed flashback. Sam and Emery babysit.

Series Masterlist

^*^*^

Dumah inhaled with sheer satisfaction, her vessel’s dark eyes alight with the task at hand. She approached the diner alone, pant suit pristine as she scanned the civilians in her way. With a short nod at the waitress at the counter, she took a sharp turn toward the back of the dining area, stopping at the last booth on the right.

Mary stopped midsentence and turned to face her, hand sliding instinctively to the weapon at the small at of her back. “Can we help you?”

Dumah shook her head. “Don’t need your help. But Jackie here, well, he’s needed on some official business.” Mary’s face fell as Dumah shined with her smugness.

“Is it--- did something happen?” Jack crawled from his side of the booth, staring into the angel for some sense of honesty.

“Jack, I don’t think—,” Mary tried to reason with him, seeing the urgency overtake his entire body.

“I can’t say, but you need to come with me. Now, Jack,” Dumah finished sternly, seeing the warning in the older woman’s eyes before the Nephil squared his shoulders and walked out of the diner. Mary grabbed the angel’s arm as she turned to follow Jack outside.

“Look, I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m coming with. You’re not taking Jack too,” Mary warned under her breath.

“He’s coming willingly. Maybe you should accept that you aren’t cut out to play grandma either,” Dumah said in true mean girl fashion, leaving Mary dumbstruck with a conniving smirk. Mary tossed some cash onto the table and ran to catch up with them outside, but it was too late, they were gone.

^*^*^

The sound pierced through the cavernous walls like an alarm, a long unnatural wail, sadder and more primal than any pitch they had heard before on the protected airwaves. Naomi’s mind raced at what or who could be in such anguish. Anyone with access was accounted for, where was this misery coming from? As quickly as it started, it cut off, leaving the dwindling angels murmuring in speculation.

A week later, Naomi knew she had the right flat, simply by the demons lining the perimeter of the block. Slowly, she made her way through Hell’s foot soldiers, without so much as a misplaced strand of hair. She approached the third floor with caution, uncertain why the demons hadn’t stormed in and taken her for themselves. She reached the door at the top of the stairs, no landing beyond the final step on which Naomi shuffled her feet over the threadbare carpeting.

Before she could knock a weak voice called out, “if you’re going to kill me, you can do it from there.”

Naomi surprised at the timidity of the creature that somehow subverted both Heaven and Hell’s lines of communication. Naomi leaned in until she could hear shuffling footsteps beyond the hollow plywood door. “I’ve come to help you, Emery. Can I come in?”

With very little ceremony the door opened to reveal a grief-stricken mother in such a state that Naomi would have felt indecent entering her home, had she, herself, been human.

“How can you help me?” Emery demanded.

Naomi, confused by the spikes of energy the woman emitted as they each tried to read each other, stepped inside the repurposed attic. A dog lingered beside her, protective yet silent.

“I understand that you have lost your son recently. Now, I may not be able to remedy that situation, but I may be able to ease your conscience and help you towards some absolution.”

Emery stiffened at the dangling carrot. “Why help me? Why not smite me like you did all those demons who were too chicken shit to come up here? I’m no better than they are.”

Naomi tilted her head to the side and sighed. “You truly believe that, don’t you? That you’re no better than those that prey upon the weak?”

Emery shrugged, folding her arms over her stomach as she looked into the angel’s piercing blue eyes. “Sooner or later, I’ll become exactly what they were.”

“Emery, you’re not damned. There is still time for you,” Naomi started to see the guilt and anguish that had been piled over her grief. This woman could barely stand with the weight of her emotional pain. Emery let out a single mirthless chuckle, head shaking as she glared through glistening eyes.

“I don’t deserve time or forgiveness. I’ve done the unspeakable,” Emery whispered, closing her eyes against her confession.

“And yet, somehow an angel has come to you offering you a path toward salvation,” Naomi replied, kinder than she expected to sound.

“I don’t want salvation. Not for myself,” Emery spat, anger surfacing at the selfishness implied by such an offer. Naomi considered what she meant, seeing everything standing in their way and without missing a beat, sold with everything she had.

“Let us help you free your son,” Naomi went big.

“Why would you--?” Emery gaped.

“There are things happening all over the world, yet I came here today. For you. The Bible is filled with people who, at their lowest, were set on the path to righteousness. You are no different, Emery.” Naomi saw the instant her hope ignited, the flames of regret and loss dimming in comparison. This woman held immense psychic power and though it had only extrapolated after her recent tragedy, Naomi couldn’t let her uncover her true potential. There was so much more at risk if she remained unchecked, than a single immortal soul.

“If not for yourself, do it for him. Come with me, let us free you from your burdens while you help protect us Heaven and Earth,” Naomi brushed Emery’s bangs from her forehead, like an older sister soothing a lost sibling. Emery gave into the whirlwind, faith and loss, guilt and new possibilities overwhelming her tired mind and weakened body. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept. Yet, here stood the most ethereal being she had ever seen, offering her hope beyond dreams. This is what her pastor meant that they’d be surprised with who they saw in Heaven, when their time came. Salvation wasn’t just offered to the pious, it was granted to those who sought it; who worked for it.

And even though everything told Emery she wasn’t worthy of such an opportunity, she clung to it, the first solid steppingstone on the cracking path she climbed.

“What do you need me to do?” Emery whispered, eyes closed and heart open.

^*^*^

Emery knew Sam was telling her the truth, obvious, provable things had happened which lined up too perfectly to be coincidence. But it was so all encompassing that she had taken days to process his history. Oddly, Sam seemed more relaxed the more she knew about him. Perhaps it was the relief of knowing what had been happening between them and putting an end to its influence. Maybe it was just easier than living a lie. Either way, she took the tiny victory, grateful for the trust he gave her by sharing his and his brother’s lifelong struggle against evil.

Sam mentioned that there were books floating on the internet, a new gospel, penned by God himself. Though he wasn’t eager to share the gory details, he told her if she needed more in-depth answers, they were available. Like a true academic, she did her research. She checked dates and locations and even weather reports. It was all there, just below the surface of the major headlines, but sprinkled throughout the trashy newspapers that had become bad chain emails or misguided social media panics along the way. Monsters had always been real for Emery, but apocalyptic destinies were beyond the scope of her time as a sunroom psychic and single mother. His perseverance floored her.

Sam came home Wednesday night to the shrill wail of a newborn and two extra barking voices. Jason and Trudy were hovering at the front door, dropping off the baby (and dogs) for their first night out since becoming parents. Emery rocked pudgy Dylan against her shoulder, hand lightly cupping his tiny head when Sam stole over the dogs’ attention as he came in the back. Suddenly three excited boys hurdled over each other across the hardwood floors.

��Hey, guys!” Sam waved from beyond the wall of fur. Amusingly, Jason was the one who was insistent on the baby’s schedule, lingering over his son as Trudy stood on the wide front porch rolling her eyes. When their neighbors were finally on their way to a quick dinner downtown, Sam started reheating leftovers for Emery and himself to eat around keeping their wards content. Within an hour, the dogs had settled, and Dylan was back asleep after a quick change.

“You’re really good at that,” Sam admired, watching Emery settle the infant back into his carrier.

“This is an easy stage, feed, change, rock, repeat,” Emery shrugged off the compliment, giggling when she saw the express disbelief on Sam’s face. “It’s just a baby, Sam.”

“I know, he’s probably the smallest one I’ve ever seen,” Sam shrugged.

“He’s actually really big for a month, but unsurprising with his genetics,” Emery sighed, dropping onto the couch close, but not too close to Sam.

“How tall were your parents?” Emery asked, getting comfortable asking Sam about himself more and more.

Sam tilted his head back, “Uh, Dad was six-one, six-two--- somewhere in there. Mom’s tiny in comparison, but she’s doesn’t seem like it. Too tough, you know?”

“I forget your mom’s alive,” Emery apologized.

“Yeah,” Sam chuckled. “Still confuses the hell out of people.”

The mood settled into a subdued quiet, reflective, but comfortable. Emery thought about how brave Sam was to stick beside her, to keep up his end of the deal. She knew he loved his brother more than anyone or anything, and though she benefitted from that loyalty in unspecified terms, it warmed her heart to know that kind of fraternity still existed in the world. A world filled with more monsters than the supernatural kinds, and somehow, she had been granted a man who worked to stay human against all odds.

“Sam?” Emery turned to face him; knees pulled to her chest. “I want you to know that I have been honest with you. And I’ll keep being honest with you. I know this hasn’t been easy, especially given everything you have gone through. And I appreciate you explaining yourself to me.”

Sam nodded, though a constricting sort of anticipation burned along his neck and he scratched the lower reaches of his beard to try and keep from flinching away from her.

“Do you--- do you think you could trust me again?” Emery exhaled the plea, rushing the words out of her mouth towards Sam, giving him their weight to handle. Sam swallowed against the strain, her eyes adding the undercurrent of intimate trust to the bundle of her words.

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Sam replied, brow wrinkled in levels of consideration. “But I’m still here and you’re still here, and damnit, I really hope that’s enough for this thing to end well.”

“So—” Emery inched forward. “What does that mean, for us?”

Sam exhaled, drawing it out as his hands fell to his thighs, sweaty and twitching. “I am comfortable being in this—partnership, with you Emery. But I don’t think I can go back to being your husband, in that way.”

God, she was good at putting on a mask when she needed to. Sam saw it flicker in her eyes, the rise and deliberate hiding of her pain. His rejection stung them both, but he needed to be sure. She deserved that clarification, his truth. He wasn’t going to be the drunk asshole he once was, but he wasn’t going to be falling into bed with her that night either.

“Okay,” Emery shrugged.

“Okay?” Sam countered.

“Yeah, Sam. If that’s what you need--- I’m not going to--- that’s not how I work. Like I said, if I had known you weren’t actually interested I—”

Sam cut her off, “hey, it’s not that. Alright? This is my shit to process, please, understand that. I need to be sure here. I can be your friend, Emery. Hell, I want to be—I just. Can we just do that? First? Or finally? Or whatever?”

Emery nodded, biting both her lips to keep from saying too much. Sam felt like she was shrinking away, the couch enveloping her, a shield against his words that carved into the tendrils of hope that had sprouted from her new understanding of him. Their relationship never made sense, in definition or routine. Why did this turn feel like such an impasse?

^*^*^

Read On Chapter Twelve: The Stuff of Souls

#for better or worst series #sam winchester fanfiction #sam fanfic series #sam/emery #sam angst #simwin #spn fanfic #spn fanfic series #character death

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lookwhatbeewrote · 5 years

Note

Slashers with their kids who are basically their mini clones?

I feel like I might have deviated slightly from the question here but I had fun so here it is~

Michael Myers

Michael stares down at the angelic blonde child and tilts his head slightly. She’s sweet enough but there’s something behind her wide baby blues that would send a cold shiver down the spine of anyone who dared to look close enough. He leaves the care of the child to their mother but takes a curious interest in the little one from time to time. He struggles to relate to them in any meaningful way but his ferocious protectiveness rivals the Shape vying for dominance in his mind.

Jason Voorhees

After bloodily dispatching a young couple trying to repair their broken down van within the boundaries of his territory, Jason hears a child stirring in the back seat. He pops the door open and stares at the two little bundles dozing there; a little girl in a booster seat no older than three and a squirming infant. The infant boy blinks up at him. As they grow, his new daughter learns to hunt and and patrol the vast woodland by Crystal Lake. Jason’s son is a dreamy-eyed soul who prefers to spend his days in the cabin, caring for home and hearth.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba always knew that once he found a little lady of his own, their brood would be large and wild. Sons aplenty to help him and his brothers with the running of the family business and a few daughters to dote upon. His eldest son is large with a crooked, shy smile and dark hair. They become constant companions. Bubba watches his children with fierce pride; each of them is a reason to maintain the family secret and eliminate any risk of their exposure.

Bo Sinclair

Bo has always dreamed of a big family. A wife, barefoot and pregnant and cooking dinner for their ever-increasing pack of unruly children. It’s an outdated idyll but, God damn it, he’s never had aspirations beyond love and stability. His sons are dark-haired and smile wolfishly. They will be heartbreakers, every one of them. His daughters are fierce in their own right and thankfully they all take after their mother when it comes to aiming a shotgun.

Vincent Sinclair

The fear that his progeny will be born like him plagues Vincent’s mind from the moment his lover’s belly swells. But when a squirming, mewling baby daughter is placed in his arms for the first time, he realises that she is perfect in every way. She has been sculpted by loving hands and will continue to be so; Vincent silently rocks her to sleep and vows to continue to shape her life with love. As she grows, he teaches her the arts. She becomes particularly adept at sculpture. Vincent ruffles her hair. The legacy of the Sinclairs’ House of Wax will endure.

Brahms Heelshire

He’s skeptical at first. A baby? A challenger for the affections of those he loves? Brahms in unsure. However, his son becomes the precious focus of his days and often his nights. He is a caring father and tends to his son at all hours. The responsibility of it brings him pride. He looks to his lover for guidance when disciplining the child. His son has inherited the famous Heelshire temper and has an ion will stretching back to his earliest days. Brahms has met his match but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#michael myers #the shape #halloween (1978)#halloween (2018)#jason voorhees #friday the 13th #f13 #bubba sawyer #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #house of wax (2005)#brahms heelshire #the boy (2016)

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creamywater13 · 5 years

Text

Bats Not Included #1

Written by @creamywater13

“Ah, to be young again. To not have to bear the burden that is public education.” Richard leaned around his seat to face his little siblings behind him, “Consider yourselves lucky.”

“I like school,” said Jason.

“Okay, nerd.”

“Is there nothing for you to look forward to, Master Richard,” Alfred, butler and chauffeur asked, “Will none of your old friends be attending the same middle school?”

“It’s not really a middle school, Alfred. It’s a fancy-pants academy that none of my friends got into, and you know what they say about first impressions! I’m a goner already, I know it.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll at least make drama club.”

Richard slumped in his seat as Jason sat up in his, practically flattened against his window. “Alfred, are we almost there?” He inquired eagerly.

“That we are, Master Jason.” Jason gathered up his book bag and removed his seatbelt.

“Can I come with him?” Richard groaned.

“Are you going to find your friends still in elementary?”

“No.”

“Then please remain seated.” Alfred pulled up to the school, and got out of the car with Jason and Cassandra. Tim piped up from the back seat.

“Byeee!”

“Can I come to preschool with you, Timmy?” Richard turned back around.

“No!”

“Aww, why not?”

“You’re too big!”

“Yeah, you’re right. You will have to go without me.”

Alfred joined them back in the car, “I trust your seatbelt is still on, Master Richard?”

“Roger. Can I start riding in the front seat now that I’m in middle school and all? Don’t you have to be at least twelve?”

“If that’s what you would like, I suggest you consult your father.”

“He’ll say no…”

“Then I must do so as well.”

This is when Richard was finally quiet. That is, until reaching Gotham Academy.

“I do believe this is your stop, sir?”

“Yes. Thanks, Alfred. Love you, bye!” And with that, young Master Richard Thomas Wayne leapt into the brand new world that was the seventh grade. His little brother Jason Alfred Wayne was probably just as anxious about joining the second grade, but in a different way altogether. Timothy Lucius Wayne was becoming adjusted to preschool by now, and would do just fine. His sister Cassandra Martha Wayne would now begin kindergarten, finally an official elementary student. Damian Ibn al Xu'ffasch Wayne was still but an infant, and to remain at home with his mother.

***

Much to his surprise, there was somebody in Richard’s first class that he recognized. It was the pretty redhead girl he had mingled with at his father’s galas and other charity events-- the commissioner’s daughter. What was it? B… Barbara, maybe? Gordon, Barbara Gordon. He slid into the seat next to her.

“Hey, remember me? We’ve met before at--”

“Alright, class, the bell is going to ring in just a minute here, and then we’ll get started. I hope you’re ready.” Thanks a lot for the interruption, teach.

“We’ve met before at charity galas.”

“There was one just last month, of course I remember,” Barbara said, “You’re Bruce Wayne’s son, our parents make us talk all the time.”

“I know. But nobody’s forcing us to talk to each other now. Maybe if we try doing it for fun, we’ll end up liking it.”

“You’d better not be hitting on me, Wayne.” This caused Richard to lean away a little. He hadn’t even realized how close he’d gotten to her.

“What? No way, I just don’t know anybody else here. I’ve never been to a school like this.”

“Me neither.”

“See? We have something in common, we’re bonding already. Have you listened to Under My Skin? It just came out a few months ago.” This finally got Barbara to return a smile.

“Some of it.”

“Dude.”

Now the bell would ring and allow class to begin. Though he had finally said something that Barbara seemed to care for, Richard couldn’t help but to worry just a little. What if this was what it was like all day? What if he had to go home for break at the end of the week and had to tell his family that he hadn’t successfully made any friends. He caught himself thinking at one point; “I just miss my dad.”

***

“Okay, class, for this question I’d like to see if anyone other than Jason knows the answer. Got it?”

Jason dropped his aching arm and slumped in his seat. If anyone else cared to answer, wouldn’t they have volunteered already?

“Remember, it’s only the first day, this is just a review, you don’t need to worry about getting it wrong. In fact, if you share your thoughts, you might just find you’ve earned yourself a treat by the time it’s recess.” A few more hands finally made their way toward the ceiling. Jason hadn’t been promised a treat, but he didn’t need one, either. That’s not to say he wouldn’t like a treat, but the experience of learning alone was fun for him. In fact, he wasn’t even particularly looking forward to recess. According to the class schedule written on the board, the getting-to-know-you activities would begin after recess. Jason felt that the handful of students he knew from last year was plenty.

Alfred always encouraged Jason to be friendly with his fellow students, and his father had developed a habit of asking him to at least try and make friends. It never really worked out all that well for Jason. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the other kids, it’s just that making friends wasn’t what got him in the classroom. He wanted an education, he wanted to learn, he didn’t want to play outside with children that spent their lunchtime talking about how much money he had. He looked forward to the day that he’d be able to see Cass at combined lunchtimes and sit with her instead. Just because a butler made his pb and j instead of an older sibling or tired parent didn’t mean that he felt any different from the other children.

Jason remembered how Richard had asked to come with him to second grade earlier that morning. Jason wished it was the other way around, and he could follow his big brother to Gotham Academy. Everyone there was more like them. Nerd or not, was it too much to ask for Jason to feel like he was seen as normal? Bruce knew Jason was normal, but also acknowledged what made him special. Jason couldn’t help but to find himself thinking, “I just miss my dad.”

***

Kindergarten wasn’t all that bad at first. After all, it wasn’t very different from the preschool Cassandra had just graduated from. There was a little more order built into the function of the classroom, but it wasn’t even noticeable to her. The other difference, however, made things a little difficult. In this kindergarten class, there was nowhere near as much one on one time with instructors. For a child as intelligent as Cassandra to be so quiet was frustrating for the teacher. Mrs. Sandoval knew that little Miss Wayne would be one of her smartest students and was excited to have her in class, but upon discovering that Cassie wasn’t really one to share her thoughts and ideas out loud, she was a little disappointed. An entire room for learning set aside only to be filled with adorable little monkeys and a terrifically shy prodigy.

The truth was, Cassie loved her father. Being the man that raised her, played with her, taught her the basics, he was an absolute role model to her. It would be more than fair to say that she was trying to cope with a bit of attachment anxiety. She didn’t want to talk to her teacher, Mrs. Sandoval didn’t understand her. She wanted her dad, someone who did understand. Cassie had had a similar issue when beginning preschool, but eventually adjusted due to being able to learn one on one with instructors. This was different. This was a whole class with one shared subject at a time, and she didn’t really care for it. Of course she would do her best to carry on and participate, but the thought crossing her mind more than any other, was “I miss my dad.”

***

Although Timmy had been at preschool since the summer began, he was still adjusting. He didn’t really listen to the instructors when they were talking to each other, so he didn’t know that they were considering moving him up a class level. They hadn’t gone through with it yet, as Tim was still only three, and the pacing of a three year old’s development are very important.They were now discussing whether to leave Mr. Wayne an email about it, but what would the point be if Timmy actually was too young? They proceeded with their everyday assessment as usual in hopes to reach a consensus.

Tim also carried on with his usual daily activities, participating in simple crafts and games, having little conversations with instructors and so forth. His older brothers and sisters were all at school now, and it was a little different not having Cassie around during the day. It was his sister that he’d chatter to the most, but now that she was gone, he was quieter. He was playing by himself again now, which was a little worrying to a couple of the instructors. Timmy loved his sister and hadn’t really bothered with learning to connect with the other children his age. He missed having Cass around, but also missed being at home with his family. He could learn from his dad just fine at the manor. He didn’t entirely recognize what he was feeling, but little Tim missed his dad.

***

“Are you positively sure about this, Mistress Talia?”

“Have a little faith in me, Alfred. Just watch.”

…

“See? I told you. He’s fine. He’s extraordinary.”

“Yes, well, I must admit that I would appreciate you explaining to me what exactly is going on before you begin tossing infants in the pool next time.”

“If I had actually ‘tossed’ him, he would still be fine. A small child must be taught to swim, but babies at Damian’s age can manage already. It’s not just that either, but my son is an outstanding child. Born for greatness.”

“Yes, I, ah, believe you have mentioned as much, and I must once again concur. All of your children have shown to be fine examples and I couldn’t be more proud.”

Talia didn’t respond.

“Well, then. If I need not be worried, then I shall make my way to the kitchen to put a lunch together.”

“Very well.”

What a strange woman. The mother of Bruce Wayne’s children, Talia Al Ghul Wayne had not gone through this procedure with the other babies. Cassandra was only just improving her beginning swimming level, and Bruce himself may not have approved of this method. However, Bruce’s concerns could not stop Talia. Her only concerns were for Damian, her newest baby. It was clear to see from anyone’s perspective that he was special to her. Perhaps it was because he looked more like her than any of the other children? Maybe because her peculiar old father also had some sort of fixation on him. Damian’s siblings figured it was because he was the baby in the family. They couldn’t remember or process being that young, so they didn’t know any better. Those who were old enough did pick up on the fact that their mother was a little distant with them, even more so than their father, and tried not to let it bother them. If she would be like that with them anyways, why blame the innocent baby? It was easier to get along with dad anyway. Oh how his children missed their father, and how he missed them.

***

They’re already getting so big, Bruce thought, looking into that same strange glass as he did every night. Richard was in middle school now, and Cassie in kindergarten. How fast it all flew by. If he could only keep each and every one of them by his side forever. But the way things were going with Talia and her treatment of Damian, it seemed that Bruce would not quite earn that pleasure in the way that he was hoping for.

“Again, Bruce? Please come to bed, you have work tomorrow.”

“Wait.”

“For what, beloved?”

Bruce didn’t give her an answer. He simply stood there and watched the seconds ticking by on the old grandfather clock. Before Bruce could once again ask himself the question that had been plaguing him for years now, Talia beat him to it.

“What is it about that old clock, anyway? Has it not always been there?”

“I believe it has.”

“Then what is it we are waiting for?”

Bruce tried to remember. He came back here every night, staring that same face down from 10:30 to… Something. He was waiting for a specific minute, but he could never remember which one or why. 10:45 became 10:46 and the deja vu only grew stronger. All the other times that he had come down here and done this, he’d become satisfied upon seeing a certain minute pass and go to bed, but he didn’t ever know what it was until he saw it. 10:47… 10:48. There it was. Bedtime.

“Alright. I’m done now.” Bruce turned to his wife and gave her a soft smile.

“Finally. You need sleep.” She led him upstairs and they called it a night. As Bruce was drifting off, he came to the brutal realization that he couldn’t remember what number he had just waited for, and would surely end up waiting for again. Sometime after 10:30, but… The thought was gone, and slumber arrived in its place.

Elsewhere inside the manor, Richard thought to himself about the people he had met that day. The first day of seventh grade hadn’t been such a failure after all. If he could only keep it up and find a way to cope with several classes a day, he’d be just fine. He had gotten himself into an esteemed academy, after all. He wondered what his dad had done that day. Probably nothing as exciting. It seemed to Richard that the most exciting part of his dad’s daily schedule was that weird clock thing he would stay up to do some nights. Richard didn’t understand why he did it, but figured that he would know if it really mattered. Then his mind drifted and he thought maybe the family would go out for ice cream or something that weekend to celebrate going back to school. After all, they’d be able to afford it. Richard was then swept away into sleep as he dreamt of his frozen sweet treats.

Jason was having a hard time falling asleep that night. He was perfectly comfortable in his bed like always, but there would be a beginning of the year assessment in a week or so at school, new vocab and spelling words taught to the class the next day, not to mention the math facts routine. It was all a lot, and part of Jason wanted to do all of it that very second, but what he probably most looked forward to about being back at school was all of the reading time. He loved to allow himself to become engrossed in any sort of book he picked up and challenge his mind to adapt to new information. He got his imagination working, thinking about favorite stories of his, and let it all fade away into dreams.

Cass wasn’t struggling with sleep quite as much. At first, she didn’t feel very sleepy at all, she just felt anxious about going to school, but as everything came back to her, it all began to tire her out. She remembered what it was like when she learned things from playing with her dad, and how much she loved that time. Memories like this eased her mind and put her to rest.

Although Tim’s day had been a little tougher than average, this also only effectively tired him out more and he was right to sleep with dreams he wouldn’t ever be able to remember.

***

Richard’s 3rd period class had a seating chart, and although whoever sat to his left hadn’t attended the day before, he was here now. He answered to the name “Harper, Roy” during role call. Richard knew he had to introduce himself.

“Hi. Richard Wayne.” He extended a hand.

“Roy Harper.” Roy shook the hand.

“Is all this new to you too?”

“Pretty sure middle school’s new to everyone in this class.”

“I mean the fancy academy scene.”

“Oh, for sure. Bruce Wayne didn’t have you in a place like this for elementary?”

“No. He thought it would be a bit much for such a young child, but that I should start getting a little more ambitious at this age.”

“Fair enough.”

“You?”

“Was adopted into it. Oliver Queen.”

“Really? Have I seen you at any charity galas?”

“Probably not. Ollie doesn’t make me go.”

“Lucky.”

Day two didn’t seem like it would be so bad at all. Richard was already making new friends. He learned throughout 3rd and 4th period that Roy Harper was a loud, sort of cocky kid, but it was a nice change compared to the uptight quiet at home. Richard found Barbara Gordon again and shared lunch with her. She was still sarcastic with him, but it felt more like friendly banter than outright rejection. Barbara had finally listened to Avril Lavigne’s Under The Skin, which instantly got an excited conversation going. Barbara’s new friend Pam joined in the conversation and the warmth and comfort Richard felt surrounded by these fresh faces was something he hadn’t gotten in some time. He hadn’t even noticed how lonely it was at home, but the contrast was hard to miss.

***

Jason elected to spend another recess alone, reading in a corner against the school. It was incredibly hot outside, but the intense sunshine made it easier to see the words under the shade. Jason had found the perfect balance of light in his little hiding spot, and dreaded the ringing of the bell. Usually he didn’t care about recess coming to an end, but this chapter had captured his full attention and interest. The last thing he wanted was for his immersion to be interrupted. However, he heard someone approaching nearby, and looked up to see one of the recess aides eyeing him. What did she want? Did even the grown-ups here think Jason was weird? Could he not escape the prying eyes of criticism even at recess? He did his best to turn his focus back to his story, but couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes on him. Not until the bell finally rang.

***

Cassie and Tim both still missed their families, but were also still having their brains put to the test. Cassie couldn’t go quite as fast as was natural for her, thanks to being stuck at the same pace as the rest of the class, and remained the quiet kid. Timmy was still given slightly more challenging puzzles and activities, and took to them relatively well. Their father would be proud of both of them, though he’d also try and encourage them to cheer up. If Richard could only be with them, they probably wouldn’t get bored at lunch and naptime as they did, as he always had something to say. Alfred understood the two better than anyone else did, and they both preferred his teaching methods. They did their best to learn and grow and participate, but they still just wanted to go home.

***

At home, behind the scenes of all the others’ lives, Talia wasn’t quite as nurturing with Damian as everyone thought she was. Sure, she spent a lot of time babying and coddling him, but she also continued to challenge him. Damian was still but an infant, but to Talia, it was best to start shaping him for his future as early as possible. To Alfred, it seemed that it wasn’t possible to get a baby to be what she wanted, but there was something special about Damian. He hardly ever failed to surprise Alfred. Of course, the other Wayne children were all very fast developers, but none of them had been tested quite this early. Damian clearly meant more to Talia than anything, but more than her other children? Why? Would she continue to behave this way if Bruce was home? Were the other children aware of this special treatment, and how would they feel about it if they were? Alfred couldn’t help his concern. Of course he loved and believed in Damian, but he felt that way with every child. They were blossoming into individuals of their own, as Alfred was well aware of, but all of Damian’s blossoming seemed to come at Talia’s pace rather than his own.

“Ah, Mistress Talia…?”

“Yes, Alfred?”

“You have spent so much time with dear Damian, which I must admire you for, but might I also suggest that you take a break? Parenting is no easy task and you have been at it without rest for such a long time. Perhaps you deserve a day off?”

“I appreciate it, Alfred, but if I was interested in a day off, I would have taken it already. I enjoy nothing more than spending time with my baby.”

“Of course. I shall remind Master Bruce of this for you should he ever consider a date night.”

“Alfred.”

“My apologies.”

“I know you have served for this family for a very long time, Alfred. But that doesn’t make you family. You have no ties by blood. This child is mine, not yours.”

“Of course. If you’ll excuse me.”

“You are excused.”

“Thank you.”

***

10:40, 41, 42… What are you waiting for, Bruce? It’s just a clock, it’s always been there.

“What’s with the clock again?”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Richard?”

“I just wanna know.” So do I, thought Bruce.

“Well, see, it’s 10:43 now, which means it’s well past time for you to be in bed, falling asleep. Would you like some warm milk or something?”

“I’m not a baby anymore, dad. I wanna know what you’re doing.”

“Waiting for the right time, I suppose.”

“For what?”

“The right time to go on a hunt for any little nuisances out of bed and destroy them.”

“Oh no.” Sarcasm.

“Oh, yes. Any minute now… 30 seconds to get back in bed or else.”

“Or else you’ll destroy me?”

“27 seconds, 26, 25…” Bruce began wiggling his fingers slowly and menacingly.

“What are you doing?”

“22, 21, 20…”

“My room is all the way upstairs, down the hall…”

“Then you’d better start running before I get to ten.”

“Daaaaaaadd.”

“9, 8, 7…”

“No fair!”

“You’re only safe in your bed now, Richard.” Richard finally took off towards his room. “Not too loud, Richard. The little ones are sleeping.” Bruce pursued carefully, quietly, quickly. Richard leapt over a couple of stairs, only to fall to his knees.

“No!”

“Shhhh.”

“Ah!” He scrambled back to his feet and kept running, as quietly as he could manage. He darted into his room and shut the door. Bruce followed and tried the handle. Richard was holding it from the other side, but Bruce was stronger.

“You’re only safe if you’re in bed.”

“No! No…” After a moment or so, the doorknob went loose and Bruce opened it. Richard pulled the covers over his head.

“Goodnight, Richard.”

Richard peeked out from under the blankets. “Goodnight, dad.”

“I love you, son.”

“Love you too, dad.”

“Get a good sleep tonight.”

“Okay, dad.”

And with that, Bruce left the room, carefully and quietly, and went to bed. Richard giggled to himself as he pulled the blankets back over his head and listened for a moment. Once he determined that it was safe, he pulled them back down to his shoulders and went to sleep.

***

“Hey. Wayne.”

“Yeah, Roy?”

“Wanna sit with me at lunch?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“Sick. Follow me when the bell rings. I’m thinking we’ll go off campus.”

“Really?”

“Sure. There’s a little shop somewhere near here, like down the street. Shouldn’t be a bad walk, we can pick something up there.”

“Sounds great.”

“Cool. We’re totally gonna do it. You have cash, right?”

“Yup.”

“Okay, good. Don’t forget, you’ll follow me when the bell rings.”

***

Jason was almost alone at recess once again. Almost, because that recess aide was still there, practically breathing down his neck, even several feet away. Whenever he looked up, he caught her turning away, and whenever he looked down, he felt her gaze slide back over to him. Jason tried to carry on for another minute or so, but he started getting kind of creeped out. He sighed, closed his book, and finally got up to look for another place to try and read in peace. At first, he thought that he’d managed to properly slip away, as the recess aide now only looked lost. Jason turned back to his reading, but only got a couple pages in before he felt the eyes again. Jason was done. Two could play at that game. Jason closed his book, looked up from it, and met the aide’s eyes with his own. Now it was a staring contest, or, it was until the aide started walking toward him. Jason’s heart was pounding, but he didn’t break. He just sat and waited until she had approached him.

“Kid, what’s your name?” “I don’t have to tell you.”

“Yes you do. I work here and I’m looking for somebody. What’s your name?”

“Jason.”

“Jason Wayne?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Look, they need you for a special program for the school, but I don’t want to bother you all through recess anymore. Just follow me when the bell rings, kay?”

Jason couldn’t answer at first, he had to fight back the tears of fear climbing their way up into his throat and his eyes. Still, he didn’t break. “Kay.”

“Alright. That’s all. Enjoy your recess, Jason, but don’t forget. Follow me when the bell rings.”

***

“I can’t remember the last time I was in a place like this.”

“What, a grocery store?”

“Alfred, uh, the butler, does most of the shopping. I like to come along sometimes, but he usually takes care of it when I’m not around.

“Gotcha. Come on, let’s go see what kinds of snacks they’ve got. I’m thinking pizza, but we’d have to sneak into the place where they keep the ovens back at school.”

“Do you even know where that is?”

“Well, not yet.”

“Let’s do pizza next time, then. We’ve got all kinds of money available, right? We could probably pick up a whole barrel of corn or something.”

“What would we do with all that corn?”

“Dunno. Probably feed a small village.”

“Ha! I like your style, Wayne. Check it, candy bars are buy two get one free.”

“No way!”

“Like we need free.” Roy started scooping varies candies into the shopping cart.

“They’ve gotta have a sale on ice cream, too. Now that summer’s coming to an end.”

“Definitely gotta check that out, but later so that it doesn’t melt if we get any.”

“Duh.” Dick pushed the cart along the candy aisle as though it was a scooter he was riding.

“Whoa. Can I try?” Roy had caught sight of what was going on.

“Sure. Let’s see how fast you can go. I do currently hold the record for highest speed within my family, so we’ll have to see how you do.” Richard hopped off his ride and waited for Roy to get on. In truth, Richard was never allowed to do that, but here with nobody but Roy, he could do whatever he wanted.

“Alright. Check it.” Roy got himself pumping, and he was pretty speedy, but one of the wheels began to twist. “Mayday!” He crashed, and a wide variety of junk foods came raining down upon him like an avalanche. He quickly abandoned ship. “Oops.” The boys turned to each other, and cracked up.

“That was amazing! Look at how much stuff we got in the cart. Might as well just pay for it all.”

“Sure! That was awesome. Now it’s your turn.”

“Oh, yeah!” Richard pulled the cart out of the wall of goods and got it going at a pretty good speed again. The boys went back and forth taking turns and adding fallen items to their purchase. That is, until Richard was barreling straight toward another customer. “Uh oh.”

“Stop, stop, stop stop!” Roy dove for the cart and grabbed as tight as he could. Using his surprising strength, he was able to catch Richard and slow his ride to a stop before this random lady was in any way injured.

“Do you really think you should be doing that here?” She crabbed.

“No.

“Probably not.”

“Sorry,” Richard could feel his face turning red.

“How old are you boys,” the lady demanded, “and where are your parents?”

“Fifteen,” Roy lied.

“Sure you are. Shouldn’t you be at school?”

“No, ma’am. It’s our lunch break.”

“Why would we have our uniforms on if we were ditching?”

“Don’t backtalk me. Stay right there, I’m getting an employee,” The lady stormed off.

“We should go.”

“You think?”

“Quick, let’s check out. They’ll think we’re valued customers and won’t get us in trouble.”

Roy grabbed the cart and began hurrying to check out. “Make sure you’ve got your money ready!”

“Got it,” Richard followed close behind. They got to check out just before the stranger woman could come back with someone to get them in trouble. “I just realized we’re going to have to carry all this stuff back to school.”

“We can stick some of it in our backpacks. Here.” Roy removed his bag and opened it up. Richard helped load the goods into it. “Well, my bag’s all kinds of heavy now, so I think the mission was a success.”

“You said it.”

“Let’s get back to campus before it’s too late.”

***

Dong, dong, dong. There was the bell for the end of recess. If Jason didn’t go over to the aide on his own, she’d probably come find him and bring him in anyway. Was there really any special program being put together on only the third day? Jason continued on, carrying himself across the school yard. What if he just lined up with the rest of his class to go back inside and the aide just forgot about it? It was probably worth a shot. Even if Jason didn’t know exactly why he had such a bad feeling in his gut, he was going to go along with it. He made his way over to line, sweating even more than usual under the glaring heat. The aide followed. Jason got into line, and she came over to stand next to him. She leaned down to his level and spoke softly, “Remember what I said? Follow me.” She took Jason by the wrist, and led him away from what he knew.

“Alright, Jason. Sit tight while I find out where the administrators are that should have been here by now.”

Jason didn’t sit. Though he had been at this school since kindergarten, he wouldn’t say that he knew this woman. He didn’t even know her name, just that he was alone with her in the teacher’s lounge with the door shut for some reason. He had expected to be taken down the office with some other kids, but that hadn’t happened, and Jason’s fear only grew worse. I have to get out of here before I find out why she took me with her.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Sorry, hold for a sec. Jason. I’m on the phone. Please wait a minute.”

“I said I gotta go to the bathroom. Please?”

“Why didn’t you go at recess?”

“I didn’t know I had to. But I really do.”

“Just hang on and read your book for a minute and then I’ll escort you to the bathroom.”

“How long is the phone call gonna be?”

“Look, your story distracted you before, right? Just keep reading and I’ll handle it in just a second.”

“I’ll try, I guess…” Jason finally sat down. His plan hadn’t worked. Now what?

“Yes, I have him with me. You do know how to get here, right?” Why wouldn’t people from the school know how to get there? “Yes, I’m sure. He told me himself. Yes! God, do you think I’m stupid? We’re not going to wait around forever, they’re going to want him back in class soon.” Back in class? Was she going to let him go back to class if this person didn’t show up? “Just get here asap, please. Poor kid doesn’t have all day.” She glanced in Jason’s direction as she said this, which allowed him to ease up a little. That was right, he didn’t have all day, he had classwork to do. He had no time for this stunt. “Got it. Later.” She hung up. “Okay. Let’s take you to the bathroom.”

Jason followed through with his bluff, but still didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t come into the boys’ bathroom, but was waiting just outside the entrance. He could try and just run, but that would be stupid if all of this was really nothing. Now he actually did have to go to the bathroom, so he finished up, washed his hands, and… Kept washing. Was it safe to go back out there? Of course it was, he’d go back to class if the “administrators” didn’t show, right? Right. And if they did show, they’d talk to him about some stupid program and he’d tell them he’d have to go home and ask his dad to join and they’d send him back to class and he’d go home. Right?

“You done?” The aide asked, and Jason responded with a nod. “Good, let’s get you back in the teacher’s lounge to wait for Mr. Steele, alright? He’s in charge of the program and shouldn’t take too much longer.” Jason just kept quiet and followed her. Back in the teacher’s lounge, he picked his book back up and tried to use it as a means of drowning out his worry. It felt like hours were slowly dragging themselves along as Jason waiting with the aide. He still didn’t know her name. She was still watching him. Then, finally…

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’m Mr. Steele, nice to meet you, Jason.” Mr. Steele held out a hand, and tentatively, Jason took it. After the handshake, Steele continued, “You are Jason Wayne, son of Mr. Bruce Wayne, right?” Jason shook his head and Mr. Steele furrowed his brow.

“He is, don’t worry,” said the aide, “He’s just a little nervous.”

“Oh, I understand. Been through it many times before myself. Your mouth has probably gotten all kinds of dry, poor kid. Let’s get you a drink of water.” The aide went to the water dispenser and did just that. She gave it over to Jason after the briefest of pauses, and he didn’t drink it.

“So, Jason. Rumor has it you’re a clever kid. Is this right?” Steele had his eyes locked on Jason now, too, which made him all the more unsettled. To tell the truth, however, his mouth was getting a little dry.

“Well, I, uh, I like school,” Jason replied.

“Wow. Good kid. Most don’t, they’d rather slack off and have recess all day long.”

“Well. You’re keeping me out of class.”

“It won’t be long, don’t worry. We just want you to take a test. It’s an evaluation given only to smart kids like yourself to see if you need to receive your education differently. I will warn you that it’s sort of a long test, so if you want to go to the bathroom or get a drink or anything, you should take care of it now.”

“No thanks. I already went.”

“Good. Then let’s get started.” Steele pulled out a packet of papers and placed it on a table in front of Jason. “If you’ll sit here,” he also produced a pencil and set it next to the paper, “Then we can begin.”

Jason relaxed a little more and moved into the seat at the table. There was actually a test there, an actual pencil, and actual quiet in the room. That was all. Jason took a drink of his water and started on the test. Lucky for him, it began with a reading portion. Inattentively, he finished his water and proceeded with the test as confidence began to push anxiety aside. He could do evaluation just fine, except… It was more difficult this time around for some reason. Perhaps because Jason suddenly felt so inexplicably sleepy…

***

Bruce Wayne stood solemnly in his home, once again watching that same grandfather clock as the night around him deepened. It was late, but he stayed up… Waiting. This time, however, he knew why. He had something to wait for.

10:48 pm came and went, and there was still no word back from the police about the disappearance of Jason Wayne.

#batman #batman and robin #batfamily #batfam #robin #nightwing #batgirl #red robin #red hood #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #cass cain #tim drake #damian wayne #fanfiction

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kindaangelic · 6 years

Text

De-Aged Damian Wayne

Oh no! Damian’s been deaged back into a baby! The spell lasts for a week, and the Bats have to make the most of it! What would they do?

Bruce: Utterly enamored by his tiny baby son. Highly emotional, emotions will escape him in the form of grunts and harrumphs. Spends most of his time staring at Damian in his crib, trying to memorize his large green eyes, his stubby baby fingers, and his button nose before he loses these few precious moments again. Dick makes him put Damian against his bare chest - “Why.” “For bonding, Bruce!” - and it’s all Bruce can do to not burst into tears at the thought that he missed ten years of doing this. But he will make up for it now.

Dick: Does a full sailor moon transformation and engages Ultimate 70′s Suburban Mom mode, complete with hairpins and frilly apron. It is a battle to separate Dick and Damian, Damian’s clinginess to his big brother seemingly having transformed along with him into his infant state. If they’re not singing lullabies, they’re playing with tiny toy swords. If they’re not playing, they’re cuddling, and if they’re not cuddling, Dick is either feeding him apple mush or changing his diaper or giving him bubble baths. Jason calls Dick obsessive, Dick just insists that he loves Dami very, very, much.

Jason: Actively runs from diaper duty, but takes great joy when he discovers that Damian is absolutely fascinated by his mountains of chest hair. Damian grabs tiny fistfuls of Jason’s masculine chest follicular expulsions and always looks amazed by his brother’s manliness. As a consequence, Jaosn spends a lot of time shirtless, and Bruce constantly cringes when he thinks about Jaosn shedding on the good sofa.

Tim: Blackmail time ahoy! Damian’s eating apple mush? Take a picture. Damian’s naked in the bubble bath? Take a picture. Damian’s getting his tiny bum powered? Take a picture. Damian’s dressed up in a bumblebee costume? Take several pictures and circulate them to the rest of the family, charge Dick extra because he is a sentimental goop. Baby Damian is smiling at Jason? Save picture and torment Damian with it for the rest of his life.

Cass: Grabs Stephanie and new baby brother and hits the town. Damian gets a baby manicure, a baby facial, and a princess outfit because he is a good little boy. Damian stars in several selfies and strangely, seems to enjoy Stephanie’s company. She is thrilled by this discovery until Cass points out that its not her shining personalty, but her breasts that Damian equates with milk that had him plastered to her. Damian gets chocolate milk instead, and is generally happy with this new milk.

Alfred: Sees an opportunity to continue an age old Wayne family tradition, and stuffs Damian into a Victorian baby gown and takes several pictures, because he couldn’t do it with any of the older ones. Alfred is also the main food masher, because left to Dick, Damian would be eating mashed froot loops and coco crunch, and no one, certainly no infant under his watch will ever ingest such abominations in the name of food. Alfred goes ham and buys organic bananas, grapes, and apples, because his grandson deserves only the best.

#batman #batfamily #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Jason Todd #Tim Drake #cassandra cain #Stephanie Brown #Alfred Pennyworth #fluff #humor #crack #deaging #au #brainfart

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violetsmoak · 4 years

Text

Pieces of April [5/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro.

Author’s Note: And now, for a change in POV!

First Chapter

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Of course, right after Jason leaves, the baby wakes up.

And starts to wail.

Tim freezes, all of his reflexes seemingly dissolved by the unyielding sound that such a tiny creature should not be able to produce.

Whatever Jason said about him being calm, in actuality, he’s completely freaked out over this whole baby thing.

Over the whole Jason’s baby thing.

This whole situation is just not in his area of expertise, nor does it require any of his previous training. And he can’t really see a situation where, on the infinitesimal chance Jason decides to give up vigilantism and become a stay-at-home-dad, he’d ever ask Tim of all people to babysit.

But then, right now, Jason’s not here.

The nurse from earlier returns, offering him a sympathetic look.

“It’s about time for her next feeding,” she tells him. “Do you want us to take her, or would you like to do it?”

Take her, please, Tim wants to say but bites his tongue.

He wasn’t talking out of his ass when he acknowledged that babies needed to be held. Human contact is good (even if that wasn’t basic medical knowledge, his own semi-neglected childhood can attest to that) and he all but volunteered himself for this to help Jason. He should at least do what he can.

Holding down the fort apparently includes holding down the baby…

“If you could just show me…?” he suggests, a sheepish smile pasted on and hopefully hiding his inner unease.

As expected, the woman’s expression turns into a mixture of amused and charmed. She chatters, motioning for him to take the chair Jason was sitting in before; Tim sits and lets her arrange the baby in his arms, showing him a light, gentle rocking motion to try to calm her.

“I’ll be right back with her formula,” the nurse says, though Tim barely hears her over the furious wailing.

He squints down at the scrunched-up face, trying to figure out how he ended up in this situation. Also, what exactly possessed him to call Jason his partner?

Because it’s the first believable thing to come to mind that didn’t involve spontaneous resurrections?

And technically, it’s even true. Sometimes.

And he was worried about Jason.

They may not be brothers, but they are family, and with that comes a certain awareness of each other. He knew the minute he saw Jason outside the dive bar that he was freaked out. He decided he would help him then, and he’s not about to back out now even if things have become way more complicated than anticipated.

The nurse returns with the bottle of formula, and as soon as she’s explained how to properly position and feed the baby—apparently there’s more to it than just sticking a synthetic nipple in her mouth and waiting for her to chug—and prevent gas, she vanishes again.

To allow them “bonding” time.

Not what I thought I’d be doing when I got up this morning…

Tim’s done the baby thing before—sort of. But Steph’s daughter was bigger when she was born. Jason’s is tiny, and Tim is half expecting her to break into pieces before his eyes. Whatever manufactured confidence he had before, had been in the moment—and mostly for Jason’s benefit.

It had been imperative to get the infant out of the other man’s arms while he was clearly on the verge of a panic attack. Especially since no one ever knows how a cornered Jason Todd might react.

Not that I think he’d ever hurt an infant, but he doesn’t exactly process shock the way normal people do. It never hurts to have contingencies.

As he watches the baby guzzle her formula with surprising gusto, Tim finds himself going over a mental list of things that have to be dealt with if they’re going to get through life’s latest curveball more or less intact.

Paperwork for the baby. Arrangements for the mother’s body.

Isabel Ardila.

He knows her name only from the files as the woman Jason was seeing prior to the Joker’s last assault on the bats. She was caught in the crossfire, forcibly dosed with heroin to play on Jason’s past traumas, and following her recovery, ended things with Jason.

Or Jason ended things with her, Tim’s not sure. He never asked and he doesn’t intend to.

However it ended, clearly there was enough estrangement that she didn’t bother to tell Jason he was a father. It’s a decision he can, unfortunately, imagine the reasons for, even if he’s not sure he agrees with them.

Not like we can do anything about that decision now, though.

The baby slowly goes limp in his arms, and Tim has a brief moment of irrational, paranoid panic—has she been drugged?—before realizing she’s just fallen back asleep.

“Right. Because that’s a normal thing that babies do,” he murmurs to himself, and carefully maneuvers himself over to her crib to put her down on her stomach, like he’s seen in countless television commercials.

Then, uncertain, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and does a quick internet search, balking at the sheer amount of SIDS related articles, and scoops her up again to reposition her on her back.

Should probably tell Jason about that when he gets back…

Assuming Jason comes back.

Or even wants his help.

Which, Tim decides, he’ll offer anyway. Though that may mean playing to his strengths more than anything, preparing for every eventuality and having a series of back-up plans.

He highly doubts Jason’s thinking of any of that right now.

Phone in hand Tim begins typing quickly, pulling up tabs in his search engines for whatever concern pops into his head as he reads.

He suspects Jason is too uneasy about the whole situation to want to keep the baby, so Tim’s going to have to research adoption agencies through official and unofficial channels.

Open or closed, not sure what option he’d go with.

And then, there’s always the small chance he will keep his child. It’s a possibility that seems as likely as Bruce’s sudden predilection for joining the Russian ballet, but stranger things have happened in the family.

He skims through several forums and advice blogs for how to care for a newborn, makes a list of important supplies they might need in the immediate future and forwards it to Tam.

It’s several minutes later that his phone chimes, notifying him of her list of replies.

- Why the hell did you send me a list with diapers?

- Is this for a baby?

- Omg, did you kidnap a baby?

- Is that a thing that happens?

-First ninjas, now baby-napping?

Tim sighs and rolls his eyes. Normally he’d find her bemused and slightly-panicked responses a little amusing, but he doesn’t have the energy to go into details, even if Jason hadn’t sworn him to secrecy.

-A friend of mine has an emergency. Drop everything off at my apartment, please.

There’s a beat, another chime, but Tim doesn’t get a chance to read the message as his screen suddenly switches. The air is filled with a generic ringtone that Tim hastily mutes, eyes flicking to the baby and back to his screen. The number flashes ‘Unknown’, but Tim recognizes the number from earlier that day.

He stands, wanders away from the crib to answer quietly. “What is it, Harper?”

“Jay called me,” the older man says without preamble. “Told me everything. About the kid, about Isabel.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees quietly. “I’d say shock is an understatement.”

“No shit.” He sighs. “Listen, I talked him down as much as I could, but the rest is on you.”

“What? Why?”

“He says you’ve been helping him.”

“For now, until someone more qualified comes along,” Tim retorts, implication heavy in his voice.

Roy catches it because he lets out a bitter laugh. “Sorry to burst your bubble, bird boy, but that ain’t gonna be me.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been in literally the same situation.”

“And I can’t right now. So I need you to be there for him.”

“He needs his friend,” Tim argues. “And he’s made very clear I’m not one of those.”

“Then you'd better become one fast, because I can’t.”

“Why the—” Tim’s eyes flick to the infant, and he can’t help giving in to the impulse to censor himself, lowering his voice, “—heck not?”

“Because I’m in a bad place right now,” Roy snaps. “I’m not in a good way for being around a kid, okay? I…” He pauses, like he’s weighing something, and then exhales. “I…fell off the wagon again.”

Tim's stomach sinks.

“Roy…”

“Don’t tell Jaybird,” Roy orders. “I just…I need to sort myself out before I can be any kind of help for him. I show up there now, I’ll just add to his problems.”

“But—”

“This is you being tagged in, okay? Don’t fuck it up.”

There’s a harsh click in Tim’s ear, leaving him listening incomprehensively to the dial tone for several seconds.

“Are you…are you kidding me?!” he hisses after a moment, only just refraining from throwing his phone across the room in frustration.

He didn’t realize before Roy’s call just how much he was counting on someone else to step in and take over in the emotional support department.

I’m not cut out for this. This sort of thing…it should be Dick. Or Alfred.

He spends the next hour once again reviewing what he did to get roped into all this.

When Jason comes back—and something inside Tim unknots in relief that he did come back—he’s as ashen-faced as before. This time, though, there’s a determined set to his shoulders.

They stand and stare at each other in silence for a good five minutes before Tim realizes Jason’s waiting for him to speak first.

Right. Tagged in. Let’s do this. Ease into it.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Tim winces.

Yeah, that wasn’t exactly subtle.

Jason doesn’t seem to notice the awkward, though.

“No idea,” he replies heavily, leaning against the doorjamb and letting his head thunk lightly against it.

“Social Services is obviously an option.”

“No way in hell,” Jason snaps, straightening up and looking fierce. “I don’t trust them. And you can’t tell me with all the Wayne resources you’ve got access to, we can’t find something better.”

Tim expected that. He might not have had the exact same harrowing experiences with foster care as Jason did, but his very brief stint left him with a hint of that same disillusion with the system.

It’s not something I’d wish on any kid, least of all Jason’s.

“We can look into it. Organize the best possible adoption scenario without dealing with Social Services. There are actually a lot of couples in the community who would be willing to adopt.”

“No. This kid isn’t growing up anywhere near capes or masks or stuff like that.”

Okay, that’s understandable. It also makes it less likely he intends to keep her.

“Whatever we do, it will take some time,” Tim cautions. “Placing a child with a family isn’t going to be as easy as sticking someone in Witness Protection.”

Jason snorts and shakes his head. “Only you would think that’s easy.”

“So, now that that’s figured out—what are you going to do once the tests are finished?” Tim asks, focussing on the practical. “I don’t find a family within the next day or so, you’re going to need to bring her somewhere. Assuming you’re adamant about keeping the rest of the Family out of this?” That receives only narrowed eyes in response. “Stupid question, sorry. But she’s going to have to stay somewhere until then. I wouldn’t recommend leaving her here at the hospital, for a number of reasons.”

Jasons frowns, thoughtful. Then,

“I’ll keep her for now,” he decides with a heaviness that Tim suspects is caused more by fear than dislike of children. “Until we find a better place for her. Some family that won’t mind doing this in private.”

“Okay,” Tim nods. “On that note—where exactly will you take her?”

Jason falters, looking like he’s not entirely sure what to say to that.

“I…my safehouses aren’t exactly babyproofed.”

“I don’t think that’s an issue until they start crawling,” Tim replies, trying for humor but the very idea sparks another flash of panic in Jason’s eyes. He’s looking at Tim now with something dangerously close to expectance, and a realization hits Tim.

He doesn’t want to be alone with this.

And it’s the fact he’s never seen Jason look so vulnerable that sparks a truly terrible idea.

I’m so going to regret this.

“I have a spare bedroom,” he offers, earning a sharp glance from Jason. “Just until you wrap your head around this and figure out the next move.”

He half expects Jason to scoff, or laugh in his face or say something insulting.

It’s decidedly worrying when the only thing that happens is Jason’s shoulders slump and he nods.

Jason’s shoulders slump, and he nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, that would be…good. Thanks, Drake.” He pauses, considering something, and then adds, “Tim.”

Next Chapter

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#jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #babyfic #accidental baby acquisition #enemies to lovers #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Baby!Todd #coping with big news #eventual slash

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