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kaiyaamin · 3 months

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Can you make a Batmom story where she gets kidnapped and brainwashed by the joker?

YOU'RE STILL IN MY HEART!

She opened her eyes feeling the bright light hit her. She looked around for a second taking in her surroundings, she was definitely in a hospital because of the hideous clothes she was wearing and all the tubes and sorts. She saw two kids sitting on the chairs sleeping peacefully.

She slowly got out of bed, gently walking towards one of the boys. Shaking his shoulder, suddenly he woke up and gazed at his mother. Mom, are you okay, how are you? wait no you need to get back into bed, she was confused about why on earth this boy called me her mom. Umm sweetie I am not your mother and actually where are your parents? What the fuck was Dick's face at this moment. Did his mother just forget who he was, panicked he woke up Damian. What do you- UMMI are you okay, I was so worried. But to his surprise, she just stared at him.

She called the nurse and asked for the children to be taken to their real parents, but the nurse only said wait a moment a returned with a man. Y/N was relieved but for the wrong reason, Excuse me sir, but your kids keep calling me mom and I don't find that appropriate. Now Bruce was even more confused, Honey what are you talking about? Moving closer to her only for her to step back. She claimed she didn't know who he was, Bruce tried to explain that they were married and these were their kids Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. But all she said was why would I named my child Dick?, this made Dick not happy, and refused to say anything after this humiliation.

They took her to Wayne Manor where she was astonished that she even lived here. Alfred had hoped for Mrs.Wayne to be alright but was hurt by the discovery of her loss of memory. Their children especially Jason wanted to take revenge on the Joker but because of Batman no killing rule he couldn't kill him but theirs no rule for torture.

Bruce decided that he would sleep in the guest room tonight till his wife was comfortable. Jason volunteered to take to her room, helping her up the stairs to her room. Jason didn't take the news well, he was always a mama boy and would always say he loved mom more than dad (it was true).

A few hours later it was time for dinner usually Y/N would ask how everyone's day was but she just sat in silence playing with her food. It was awkward, to say the least, Tim felt all emotions when looking at his mother but was especially sad she didn’t even glance at him or care he was drinking coffee at night in front of her. But to everyone's dismay, she left sitting on the couch staring off into the distance. Guys, why don't we show her some pictures and tapes of us together, she will surely remember, Damian had said to bring our hopes up. It was worth the shot, Bruce exclaimed getting up along with Alfred to get everything ready.

They set up everything with the utmost perfection, they all gather around the TV ready to show their mom everything.

Dick was the first one to show. Good morning everyone it is currently 7:30 am, and we're here to wake up little dickie for his 11th birthday, his mother said next to her was his dad. Honey were probably watching this- only to be interrupted by his wife shushing him. Bruce aimed the camera towards their son laying their drooling on his pillow. Alright, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! They screamed together only to cause Dick to fall off his bed and onto the floor but he quickly recovered hugging his parents and blowing out his candles. What did you wish for Dick? Y/N asked hoping her son would give some hints but he only kept his mouth shut stuffing himself with the chocolate cake. Best birthday Ever!! Dick said with a toothy grin with cake all over his mouth.

Seeing this brought very vague memories but it was very slowly coming back. It looked so perfect, they were so perfect. Bruce looks over at his wife seeing something spark within her deciding to move on to Jason's video.

Batmom was holding the camera with excitement all over her face. Can you believe this, it's my baby bird's first Prom suddenly she started crying like a child not ready to let him go. Jason hugged his mother wearing a fancy black suit with his hair styled nicely looking like a prince. Mom, don't cry I will always be your baby bird no matter what, trying to calm his mother down by rubbing her shoulders. You better keep your promise, Y/N said in a threatening tone. She took many pictures of Jason and his date together before they were off in the limo. Their Y/N was hand in hand with her husband reciting all their Prom memories together sharing heartfelt laughs.

It was Tim's graduation video next, It shows Y/N and Bruce holding flowers and a poster saying congratulations on getting out of school, with excited grins. Finally, Tim's name was called with honors only to be interrupted by his mother screaming and shouting that's my son! Tim had made valedictorian and boy was Y/N proud of her Timmy. She took many videos, silently remembering to brag about this to the other moms. Tim ended his speech with a final thank you to his parents, especially his mother. Ohhh Bruce, did you hear that? he thanked me for his accomplishments, crying and sobbing at the same time. Many people turned around but the Bat family did not care with proud grins on their faces. Everyone later congratulated Tim with his mother repeatedly kissing his forehead and hugging him so tight.

Tim watched the video remembering everything that happened that day after they went to his favorite restaurant with a giant cake his mom ordered just for him. He couldn't hold back his tears and hugged his mom and to his surprise, she hugged him back just as tight with tears in her eyes.

next was Damian video, It was Christmas day, and all the children raced down the stairs to open their presents. It was also Damian first Christmas with the Bat family. Ok, kids since it is Damian's first Christmas with us he will open his presents first, Batmom said handing her son his first gift with an excited grin. Damian and the rest of the kids heard Meow Meow, Damian ripped to wrapping paper off the box opening it to find a cute small black kitty cat. Damian was ecstatic hugging his Ummi and father. What are you going to name it? bruce said with a lace of curiosity in his voice. I vote Demon spawn, Jason shouted only to receive a murderous glare from Damian. I am going to name it Alfred the cat, Damian said. I guess we have Alfred the first, Y/N said while pointing at Alfred who was sipping his tea. And Bruce finishes and says Alfred the second while holding the adorable cat.

All the kids looked over to see their mother crying with tears streaming down her eyes ruining her mascara not like she cared. All her babies ran to her including Bruce hugging her tight trying to stop the tears. Oh kids, I remember and I am so sorry I have forgotten but looking at you all, you make me so proud. Now it wasn't just Y/N who was crying but everyone was even Alfred shed a tear, Come on Alfred join us, Y/N said pulling Alfred in the hug and not letting him reply. It was perfect, they were perfect no matter how chaotic her family gets they will always have each other no matter what.

#batfam x batmom #batfam x reader #batman #bruce wayne x reader #batmom #batmom imagine #batmom!reader #batmom imagines #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #damian al ghul #batman and robin #bruce wayne #bru

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ducklooney · 4 months

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Happy birthday, Dickie Duck!

On December 18, 1966, the famous Italian artist and writer Romano Scarpa writes and draws a comic called "The Miner's Granddaughter" (or in Italian "Arriva Paperetta Yè-Yè") in which Paperetta Yè-Yè, i.e. Dickie Duck, appears. She is Goldie's granddaughter (not sure if she is Scrooge's granddaughter) and she is an older teenager, very friendly and very active and exciting in many things. Yes, she works as a reporter for Scrooge's brother, Gideon McDuck and his news agency "The Duckburg Chronicle" and in certain situations also works for Brigitta MacBridge (Scrooge's second love besides Goldie). She also goes to high school and college (not sure how old she is, but definitely between 18 and 24) and has female and male friends behind her, such as Beckett, Neptunia, Olympia, Walter, and Aracuan Bird. She is mostly very popular in Brazilian and Italian comics where she is mostly represented. Also, she is a friend of Daisy Duck, Brigitta, Magica and in some cases she is a babysitter for Donald's nephews and Daisy's nieces. In certain comics, Fethry is her boyfriend, while in some comics, Gyro is her boyfriend. She appeared in animation only once, in 1982 as an intro to the Topolino Show created by Romano Scarpa. And now, pictures of her from the beginning until today.

If you love her and her family and friends, feel free to like and reblog this. Happy birthday to you, Dickie!

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morrisxn02 · 8 months

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{HARRIS DICKINSON, 21, MALE, HE/HIM} Is that EDWARD MORRISON? A JUNIOR originally from MANHATTAN. They’re THE PROUD ELITE on campus, but even they could get blamed for Greer’s disappearance.

tl;dr: eddie responsible, pragmatic, methodic but he is also frustrated that he still hasn’t found his path in life and is too scared to live life the way he wants to without disappointing his family. i feel like, right now, he’s at this crossroads where he wants to be young and find his path and have fun, but he is too scared this will put all the great things he has in jeopardy.

-– the basics:

full name: edward rufus morrison nicknames: ed, eddie, rufus (if you want to annoy him) + whatever your muse desires age: 21 birthday: march 13th, 2002 birthplace: new york city, new york major: computer science + literature gender: cisgender male sexuality: bisexual

stats - pinterest board - playlist - wanted connections

multimedia character inspirations:

henry winter (the secret history), dickie greenleaf (ripley - 2024), julian fromme (these violent delights), art donaldson (challengers), declan lynch and richard gansey iii (the raven cycle/the dreamer trilogy), kendall and shiv roy (succession), logan dellos (westworld), nate archibald (gossip girl), mahdi (blocco 181)

background:

middle child of the morrison family;

grew up as the family's perfect little golden boy;

his parents always deposited in him the expectations of one day taking on the family business;

was always sort of a conflict mediator at home, which is one of the reasons why his parents love him so much;

always enjoyed reading and studying;

didn't have any big issues growing up aside from sporadic ideological conflicts with his parents;

spent a year in france as a part of an exchange program in high school;

personality:

kind of nihilistic;

matured way too early so he kind of just wants to be young and dumb for a while but will not allow himself to be happy bc he feels like being his dad's ideal of a man is more important;

very creative and artistic;

on the outside he's a conformist, on the inside he's super liberal. he refrains from dabbling in politics, though bc as aware as he can be abt his privilege, he would never give up the nice things he has;

roy-siblings coded: he will do anything to impress an unloving parent because there's no drug more powerful than parental validation

can be very practical when he needs to be, but is usually very much the opposite

he is very VERY lost in life, very frustrated, very unhappy, thinks he's trowing his life away and regrets like 75% of his life choices;

he can be a bit selfish and narcissistic;

thinks he's smarter than everyone;

cannot muster up the courage to confront his family about anything so he can often be found looking forlornly at the horizon wondering abt everything his life could have been;

headcanons

fatally allergic to hornets. he WILL die if he gets stung

loves videogames;

kind of an art/history nerd;

annoying film-bro that carries a mubi tote around and has a criterion channel subscription (also hit him up if you want to borrow any criterion collective exclusive releases);

would have been an actor in another life. LOVES shakespeare;

eddie is kind of closeted with his bisexuality, mostly bc he feels like his parents might start looking at him differently (a few ppl know and he doesn't make a point of hiding it but he won't openly label himself as queer, it's a weird thing but you know where i'm going with this right)

also LOVES rich people sports like skiing, tennis and fencing. has a bit of baseball knowledge as well but doesn't care much about other sports;

mildly near-sighed

slightly allergic to polyester (as per a collective gc decision lmao)

other tropes: princely young man, gentleman snarker, byronic hero.

RELATIONSHIP TO GREER: Most of his life, Greer was like a best friend inside of their home. Someone with whom he shared most of his fondest memories, like summers in the Hamptons, Christmases in the Alps, and Halloweens at Disney World. Yet, when you grow up in a Succession-esque household, there are certain unspoken rules about loyalty and comradery. Siblinghood was always a game – fun, for the most part, but competitive and always marred by the inevitable awareness that there was always a great deal at stake and that one could end up finding himself on the losing side. Luckily, for most of their lives, the Unfavorite gracefully assumed that position – which neither he, nor Greer ever questioned. But Edward knew that there were always boundaries to his relationship with the golden girl, there were secrets to be kept from her, lies to be told to appease her, because he knew – as his twin did – that Greer would gladly throw any of them under a bus coming in at full speed if she knew that would expand her advantage in their parents’ rankings.

HOW THEY EMBODY THEIR SKELETON TROPE: The linen shirts, the tailored suits and the cashmere sweaters attest to his love of all things fine and luxurious. Edward is the stereotypical Barbie of northeastern rich men: his favorite sport is skiing; he loves a good glass of premium aged scotch; and his go-to Holiday getaway is quick trip to Europe. All this privilege makes him a little out of touch with reality. Sometimes he just doesn’t get the so-called “small pleasures of life”. And all this luxury at his full disposal might make him appear a little too self-assured. He doesn’t do it out of malice or hatred of the less privileged, though, he just loves his life too much not to be all-in in it…

EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES: tennis, sailing, writing club, fencing club

#intro #{ mes rêves gris s'envolent dans le noir de la nuit | intro. }

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gangrenados · 2 years

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It’s my birthday! How would Dickie celebrate it with me?! 🥺💖

Happy birthday!!

Dick would try his best to bake you a cake, it'd be pretty simple since he's doesn't know much about cooking, in fact he did everything following Alfred's and Jason's strict instructions and guidance since he didn't wanted to fuck up.

Dick will also wake you up at 12:00am to wish you a happy birthday and give you your gift

He tries his very best to be with you and not running around doing vigilante job or any other duties, he wants to focus on you. Sure, sometimes it's hard since he can't control everything, but Dick does tries to keep his schedule free only for you.

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dramatisperscnae · 1 month

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A certain little shit has left multiple post it notes on Nightwing's display case. One is just a big, not very good doodle of a padlock. The other two are message in Tim's messy scrawl. "Go hang out with the Titans, goober, we've got the city tonight. Happy Birthday." "PS I hid a celebratory box of cereal in your room" @arobinwithoutbatman

[It's Dickie's Birthday!]

The Post-Its don't even get noticed for several hours. Almost the whole day, in fact; Dick's got his nose stuck in several files and at least one Powerpoint presentation he's working on for the Wayne Foundation. Safe to say his own birthday is one of the last things on his mind. Until he sees the - terribly drawn; good grief, Tim, they're simple things, how hard can it be to draw one? - padlock Post-It on his gear case.

It gets a bemused look for a moment before the other two notes and their message get his attention, at which point Dick blinks, glances over at the calendar, back at the notes, then just shakes his head with a wry chuckle. It has been a while since he had a night off, hasn't it? And Kory's been gently pushing him to at least come visit once things settled after Bruce's death. What the hell, why not? She'll love the excuse to throw a party, too, even a last-minute one.

#Communication #arobinwithoutbatman #dick ic #dick verse: knightwing

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soulmate-game · 3 years

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part 2 (of that new bio!dad fic)

Dick whipped his head over to Bruce, who could feel the heavy gazes of all his children as if they were physical. If they had had heat vision like Clark, he would have already been reduced to a puddle of mush. Bruce shifted, the only sign of his discomfort, but he recognized that the middle of a gala was no place for this discussion. There were too many busybodies trying to listen in for the latest gossip. So he plastered on a smile that he couldn’t quite feel, and held a hand out to Marinette. He was careful to keep a good distance though, and left the choice for contant purely up to her.

The young woman looked down at his hand, then back to his face. Damian had been shocked silent by what she had to say, and perhaps even more by the all too telling way that Bruce hadn’t so much as implied that she was lying, and the look he was giving her was making her a little uncomfortable. Yes, she hadn’t planned on interacting with her father more than just the years-overdue confrontation she had just done, at least not while at the gala… but her plans always left room for improvisation. She could make this work.

With a soft sigh, Marinette extended her own hand— half the size of Bruce’s, he noted almost immediately with a rush of illogical fondness— and grasped his lightly. She couldn’t help but notice the way his impossibly blue eyes brightened, no different than her own when she was particularly happy, or the way his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed beam. Instead, he controlled himself enough so that the only smile he gave would look professional and entirely in character to the nosy socialites still spying on them, and led them out onto the dance floor.

What everyone else saw was the unfairly charming Bruce Wayne giving his young guest of honor a simple dance. Just a basic swirl around the floor that every other social elite had learned when they were five. Clearly he was taking it easy on the self-made girl, who probably didn’t have experience with such dances. Humoring the accomplished young woman with his approval for a moment before he would slink back to his family or patrol the crowds and make the necessary greetings and meaningless chatter.

What his family saw was Bruce taking time to slow his steps, not for Marinette to keep up but rather to prolong the event. What they saw was the grace in Marinette’s steps as she never once faltered, and that Bruce was careful to take his cues from her instead of the other way around. He only led the dance in technicality, Marinette had all the real control.

What they saw was a father’s first dance with his daughter.

“Eighteen,” Dick whispered, eyebrows drawn low. “She said she’s almost eighteen.”

“Well, that lines up doesn’t it?” Jason asked gruffly, his own gaze never leaving the dancing duo. “We were planning on doubling up your big thirtieth birthday party as your eighteenth adoption anniversary,” he reminded his brother, who just made a slightly distressed noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was at the reinforcement of his adoption coming only months after Marinette being put up for adoption, or the fact that he was turning thirty, nobody could really tell.

“Hurt,” Cassandra spoke up from behind them, looking incredibly concerned as she watched the dance. “Uncertain.”

Stephany rolled her eyes, fidgeting from her quickly building energy. Anger was making her restless. “Of course she’s hurt. Bruce replaced her, with a boy he knew virtually nothing about, not even that long after she was born. How do you think that made her feel, when she found out?” Stephany let out a little growl, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing server and downing it in one gulp. She ignored Dick protesting that she wasn’t of age yet, which made her wrinkle her nose. “Only one more year, Dickhead. Get over it, I need the buzz.”

“Well,” Barbara sighed and maneuvered her wheelchair around the group so that everyone could see her. “Nothing we can do right now but be supportive and watch Bruce like a hawk so he doesn’t make this worse,” she stated easily, not looking even the least bit ruffled by the news despite the disturbed glitter in her eyes.

“... Guys,” Tim spoke up, not looking at any of them. “Who wants to volunteer for Damian duty?” At first glance, it might seem like Tim was thinking about his own first disastrous meeting with the younger boy. Once everyone paid attention though, they could see that the truth was that Damian had snuck away and Tim was pointedly looking at a slightly hidden-away staircase to the second floor.

“Shit,” Dick muttered, but before he could say another word Jason shoved him back and started towards the stairs.

“No, not this time Dicky. I’ll talk to the brat.”

Back on the dancefloor, Bruce and Marinette broke away without any fanfare at the end of the song. If Bruce tried to hold her eyes for a moment too long, nobody noticed besides his observant children, and two of Marinette’s protective friends.

Then, just to make sure that nobody caught on with the help of hindsight, Bruce said something vaguely polite and praising, which Marinette accepted with flawless, distant poise. And they went back to their own groups, Bruce quickly noting that two of his sons were missing. He raised an eyebrow, about to ask why when a presence behind him caught his attention. Unlike Marinette and Chloe, this newcomer was not at all trying to hide their approach or be sneaky about it, even though Bruce couldn’t hear any footsteps that were close enough to belong to the mysterious entity. Closing his mouth, Bruce turned around only to be greeted by yet another vaguely familiar face. Bright green eyes bore into his, unreadable.

“Mister Wayne,” the newcomer greeted, voice warm but stiff. If the Waynes hadn’t all had years of recognizing when a person was only pretending to be cordial, they never would have suspected that the boy was anything but pure-heartedly happy to be there. But they did have that experience, and thus they instantly honed in on the very well-hidden fact that he had a bone to pick with them. Or, more probably, with Bruce.

He cut an impressive figure, for all that he was lithe muscle instead of bulk. Hair that was lighter than Chloe’s, less like cloth-of-gold and more like sunlight glinting off of wheatfields. It somehow hung in gravity-defying tufts, yet perfectly arranged to evoke a calming aesthetic. Like the fluff of a long-haired cat, almost, and it looked just as fluffy and hypnotizing. It contrasted with his emerald eyes, impossibly vibrant in their gleam. And the suit he wore was decidedly top-notch, much like the other two they had met from his class. He was daring, in a dark silver suit that slightly shifted in the light, green accents that matched his eyes standing out strikingly against the collars and trim, and coiling in tantalizing swirls at the cuffs. The lining of the suit jacket was done in a dark green that could almost pass for black in the right lighting, adding a layer of both drama and mystery as it peeked out at the back of his collar, the insides of his sleeves if he moved just the right way, at the bottom hem of the jacket when he turned or bent just so. And with his notoriety in the modeling world? He always knew exactly how to move or place himself to get the reactions he wanted. And he was clearly showing off the craftsmanship of his suit just then as he faked adjusting his cufflinks and lifted his head just the right amount to both look challenging and let the dark green on the back of his collar flash in the light in such a way that Bruce and those nearest him wouldn’t be able to miss the brief reveal of color.

“Adrien Agreste,” Bruce greeted back, eyebrows pulling down in slight confusion. Normally the topic of clothing was far from his genuine interest, but in this particular case it was an intriguing, and possibly even concerning, observation. So he said next; “That suit is not of your father’s usual style of design.”

Adrien scoffed, straightening out his suit’s jacket and making the obsidian buttons glint. “Of course not. I’ve started my rebellious phase— or, well, I finally started being blatant enough about it that my father noticed anyway,” the way his lips curled was decidedly not very attractive, but painted a vivid picture of a son who despised the way he was treated. Adrien quickly wiped the distasteful expression away and replaced it with a camera-ready smile. “I’m wearing one of Marinette’s designs, much to his chagrin. She insisted on making this for me as soon as she heard that my father was planning on sending me in a white suit.”

Bruce quickly caught on, and sighed. How long would the gala go on for, again? He didn’t remember what time it was anymore. “Your friend Chloe already got a pretty clear warning in. I suppose you know as well?”

Adrien’s grin darkened with mischief, and he nodded all too happily. “Of course! Marinette told me almost as soon as she found out, a few years ago. You see, we had to put down a very solid rule about secrets between the two of us. She has a bad habit of trying to shoulder the entire world’s problems and not tell anyone about it, if you don’t pay close enough attention,” his voice was deceptively light but his eyes were hard, warning. “And let’s just say, I have a lot of experience with bad father figures. I can recognize them a mile away by now. The signs of neglect, of apathy,” his eyes suddenly lightened when he saw how Bruce’s throat visibly caught, how the man didn’t seem to realize he had stopped breathing. Maybe he was being a little to mean, Adrien thought. So he let the dark slip out of his eyes, and his smile turned more genuine. “You don’t have those signs. You looked at Marinette like you were both the happiest and most miserable man in the world at the same time. But you can’t change what you did to her, Mister Wayne. If you want some advice from Marinette’s oldest friend?” Adrien held out a closed fist.

Bruce took a second to realize what was happening, too busy trying to recover from his situational whiplash and wave of relief. Once he caught back up to the present, however, he held out his open palm and let Adrien drop something into his hand.

To his shock, it was a pen, engraved with the name he recognized as Marinette’s biological mother. He also recognized it as a popular model of pen-knife. He raised his eyes to Adrien, who winked.

“Marinette doesn’t know I had this made. And she has a lot of tricks that might surprise you, but what she wants more than anything is stability. If you try to give her that, show that you care and you want her safe— and then prove that you’re gonna stay— then maybe you can repair the damage you’ve done. It won’t be easy though, Mari is the single most stubborn person I’ve ever met. And I grew up with Chloe.”

Bruce closed his hand around the pen, swallowing a lump in his throat. He couldn’t quite figure out why, but Adrien’s faith in him and his help… somehow felt significant. He nodded to the young model.

“Not to worry, I have experience with stubborn,” he glanced back at his other kids with a small smirk. None of them were the least bit repentant. “And I do want to stay. Thank you for the advice.”

Adrien shrugged. “Don’t thank me. If you hurt her again, you’ll never see my revenge coming. It can be rather… catastrophic,” with that ominous threat, Adrien bowed dramatically and turned to leave and do some rounds charming the elites. Bruce tucked the pen in one of his hidden pockets, but stayed silent after that. He had a lot to mull over.

—*—*—*—*—*

Damian leaned on the railing of the balcony, looking out over the gardens behind the gala’s venue. He was glaring at nothing, and his hands trembled from where they gripped the rail. It was five minutes, a little longer than he had expected but not that odd considering everyone’s distraction over Marinette, before he heard the glass doors behind him creak open.

“Yo,” Jason greeted, knowing it was better not to catch the boy off guard. None of them were good with surprises anymore, for good reason. It was always best to announce their presence before they made someone react violently on accident. Damian’s shoulders relaxed a little— not a lot, but enough for Jason to notice. The older man sighed, walking up and leaning on the rail next to his little brother. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“That could have been me,” he almost instantly blurted. It was still hard talking about his feelings, but certain things were easier with Todd. This was, apparently, one of them. “If Mother hadn’t kept me a secret.”

“I don’t think so,” Jason disagreed, shrugging. “There are several big differences here. For one, Marinette was born three years before you were. By the time you were born, he already had Dick and he would have only been a year, max, away from taking me in. Which means he already had built up his problem with taking in kids, and nothing would have gotten him to give up a chance at raising you. With or without Batman getting in the way.”

“But then why—” Damian growled. “Why did he give her up?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Jason remarked bluntly. “You know how he is. He didn’t have a kid at the time. Hell, Bruce would have only been twenty-two back then. He only adopted Dick on impulse because Dick reminded him of himself, but before all of that shit? He probably made a million excuses about not being able to raise a baby and be Batman at the same time. About his life being too dangerous for a kid. Which, yes it is, but that clearly didn’t stop him later.”

“She’s older,” Damian muttered, this time softer.

“Yup.”

“Her mother wasn’t an assassin, probably. She designs. I hate to admit it, and you are never to repeat it to anybody, but her work that we’ve seen so far is impressive. She can clearly charm even the most stuck-up of gotham’s upper crust.”

“Yeah,” Jason agreed neutrally, his eyes never leaving Damian.

“Father won’t need me. He already doesn’t have much patience—” Damian was cut off by a flick to the nose. “Hey!”

“Not my fault you’re being stupid,” Jason defended himself. “Look, B’s actually been real patient with you these past few years. I mean, when was the last time he yelled at you? Or told you that stupid ‘justice not vengeance’ line?”

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it. After another moment, he replied; “Almost two years.”

Jason nodded. “It might take him way too long, but he can still learn new tricks. Especially after that mess with Heretic, he’s been trying really hard to be better to you. He still screws up, because I think we all know by now that he’s a bigger mess than any of the rest of us and that’s an accomplishment, but he’s trying. He doesn’t keep you around because he needs you. He’s got plenty of us around if all he wanted was soldiers— though none of us would stick around if we thought that’s all he wanted.”

Damian flexed his jaw. He was still the most violent of the kids, besides Jason. He saw Bruce rubbing his forehead or pinching his nose far too often at some of his decisions or comments. He was stubborn, impatient, reckless.

But hadn’t Bruce himself told him on several occasions that he wasn’t trying to make him a perfect soldier? Hadn’t Bruce himself said that he just wanted Damian to grow into himself?

It was just really hard to swat away those stupid voices in Damian’s head. Voices of the past, mostly, old dialogue he had never actually forgotten. That he merely pretended had never affected him. The “you’re too violent”s, the “that’s not how we behave, Damian”s. All the old lectures, the old fights. They echoed like stupid little gremlins of doubt.

“...Marinette has his eyes.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over something like that,” Jason’s voice was soft, but gruff at the same time as he cuffed Damian over the head. “You didn’t choose to be born, idiot. And despite being a little demon, none of us would reverse it, You’ve saved all our skins at least once. And besides,” he nudged Damian a little with a grin. “You’re not half bad, nowadays.”

Damian chuckled. “That makes one of us.”

“Hey!”

@peterxwade24 @mizzy-pop @maskedpainter @ladybug-182 @khneltea @itsmeevie01 @fusser90 @woe-is-me0 @lolieg @moonlightstar64 @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #platonic jasonette #platonic daminette #platonic brucinette #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #maribat fic

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thekillingjoke-haha · 3 years

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We’re Batshit Crazy

@spnquotebingo Word count:1,609

Summary: Love isn't all that perfect sometimes love is crazy especially when the Hero is in love with said crazy.

Gotham AU

Jason Todd(Jensen Ackles) x Villan!Reader

Enemies and Lovers (none of that "to" bs)

Gotham Recasting: Batman=John, Dick Grayson(second Robin not first) =Sam ,Tim Drake=Adam, Joker(ledger style)=Lucifer, Harley Quinn=Lilith,ect.

Warnings: Mention of death, blood, guns, and violence

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The mad laughter rung out into the night sky as the purple Lamborghini hit corners with violently sharp turns. "Oh puddin I just love family night!~" The pale platinum blonde giggled as the man with green dyed hair licked his smiling lips. A bubble of laughter came from the back seat he turned around to see his princess looking out the small back window. "Batsy batsy batsy" Her low/high pitched giggle caused a crazy chain reaction as the bat mobile hurried to catch up. "Always ruining our fun,huh,princess?" The clown king shifted his gray-ish blue order into the mirror grinning making the scars on his face raise into a sinister smile at the look of pure chaos in his daughter's e/c eyes. "Not tonight! Not on my birthday!!" She said as she smiled reaching under the seat to pull out a Tommy gun. Climbing to the front seat sitting on her mothers lap she leaned out the passenger window. "Go back to the Rat cave your not gonna put a downer on my weekend!" Y/n yelled shooting off round towards the tires,windshield,and headlights.

The mobile didn't seem to have a scratch as as a motorcycle pulled up beside it. Slipping back in the car the younger women pouted looking at get parents. "He called his little birdie no doubt the replacements in the car." Y/n huffed as she dug around for more fire power. "Puddin we have a visitor.~" The red mask gazed at us as he lifted a forearm pistol. Shots were fired and Joker took a hard right almost like tron the motorcycle quickly turned into a ally to avoid being hit. "Sorry Princess might have to cut tonight shot." He said licking his lips as a thump came from the roof making the youngest clown snarl her eye crazed as she shot above her as the purple car swerved wildly. "YOU'RE RUINING MY BIRTHDAY,BATS!!!" Y/n cackled madly a mixture of her parents laughed till the magazine ran out.

They got to one of their warehouses where Jokers men were armed to the teeth. The clown mask had black soulless eyes and immediately fired the moment the batmobile entered. Y/n skipped out of the purple Lamborghini she got on her tippy toes and kissed her dad on the cheek. "I got the hooded punk. Can you clip the bats wings for me...a little present?!" He laughed as he armed himself with a shotgun. "Anything for my princess." The f/c sf/c female clown skipped away knowing that the motorcycle riding vigilante was hot on her tail. That's how she found herself on the roof tops jumping the gaps as heavy footfalls followed. Her loud laugh echoed as she leaped to a smaller building hiding behind a vent the moment the brown leather jacket came into view she tackled the tall man. They were both panting as a grin pulled on the clowns lips.

Y/n POV

"Caught ya,Jay bird." I giggled pulling of the helmet his apple green eyes covered by a second mask stared at me he chuckled as his hand slipped above his head in mock surrender. "Yeah you caught me,beautiful." Leaning down I kiss him my hands pushed into his cheeks my thumb running over the scarred J. We've been dating for awhile now ever since dad kidnapped the second Robin at seventeen. I was fifteen at the time and dad had me at his side as he tortured him.I was always there to stitched him up and put burn cream after shock therapy I didn't know how we got attached maybe because he wanted to rebel a little by talking to me or someone around his age saw the same if not worse shit.

Six years ago(Y/n 15 Jason 17)

"Why are you helping me?" Looking up his head was strapped down along with his arms and legs. I shrugged my shoulders I knew who he was if I wiped off the make up and temp dyed my hair I was the honor student in the same class as him. Jason Todd anyone with eyes had a thing for him,but after removing his mask it wasn't hard to piece together who the bat fam is. "I know what my dad has planned for you Jay. This is just a band-aid on a gunshot wound and might I say that's very unhelpful." This was the first I spoke to him and it wasn't long before Dad beat him to death.

Two years later.

I sat in the back of the car as Frost drove. We just left the cemetery. "Why are we doing this,n/n." He asked looking in the rear view mirror at me. I'm seventeen now my thoughts screamed at me. Why was I trying to bring him back? "Because I crazy that why!" I giggled as we grew closer to the lazapit. He was dressed in a black suit with red tie his body sunk into the water as I waited. A loud gasp drew my attention as he shot up a white streak in his hair. "Heya sleeping beauty." Looking over in shock he lowly made his way looking like a baby deer. "I'm alive,but h-how?" His green eyes looked at me. "A Ghoul owed me a few favors I just asked to use his fountain of youth." Handing him a towel and some clothes. "Sorry about the outfit,but Arkham does have one size fits all." Jason chuckled as he started to dry off.I realized why I brought him back. I was crazy about him.

Two more years later(two years ago)

Jason wanted to stay dead he didn't go back to His dad and brother after he realized that neither of them tried and save him. It was sad to see,but it brought Jason closer to me and he started to trust me and I gave trust in return. Blood coated my hands while some was on my face. Looking at Jay some was speckled on his cheeks taking the pockets square out of the mobsters coat I wiped it off he looked down at me his arm slipped around my waist pulling me closer my breath hicked. "Will you be my girlfriend,my little jester?" A large smile grew on my face as my arms went around his neck pulling him down further. "Gladly,Jay bird." I kissed him not caring if my lipstick stained his lips and he didn't seem to care either as the kiss grew more intense. We shared our first kiss at nineteen surrounded by dead bodies as sirens and the unmistakable sound of the armed batmobile. At least he's as crazy about me as I am about him.

One year ago. (Jason POV for a sec)

I came to Bruce I hate to admit it but I needed advice about the one think he knew best. Women. It was just a couple of months ago he found out I was alive and shocker he managed to drive Dicky boy to Blüdhaven to get away from him to get his own image and not just Robin. Oh and surprise surprise when out of robins he had a spare like a tire and it's name was Tim. Nevermind that I stood across from Bruce in his home main office he had a frown on his face. "You're dating someone and its serious and I didn't know about it?" He asked trying to deduct everything. "I've been dating her ever since I came back. As strange as it might sound,but I want us to be something more." That's when the billionaire playboy stood up standing just a inch shorter then myself.

"Life is short Jason and you've experienced that first hand if you feel that both of you are perfect enough to be more then go for it." Perfect wasn't realistic nothing was ever perfect my life isn't perfect her life sure as hell isn't she's the clown princess I'm a bat son. Maybe that what makes us so good together the fact that it would have never really happened any other way life is just crazy like that.

Present

Staring into those vexing green eyes always brought me back. We're both twenty-one him being older only by a couple of months. "Happy birthday,gorgeous." His voice brought me back as my smile grew. We were standing up now he held a box wrapped in my two favorite colors. "Awe you shouldn't have." I grab it and opened it a gun was inside it was red and gold revolver it looked like my moms love/hate gun,but it said King/Queen. Looking at Jay I reached to hug him when suddenly he dropped to one knee pulling out a box with a beautiful f/c ring and ruby gem. "This feels over due. You took care of me when I was considered enemy number one. You brought me back from the grave when my own family didn't try. And this might sound stupid,but I had a crush on you in middle school you were one of the only people that didn't give me pity after Bruce adopted a street kid." He licked his lips as he gave of a small smile. "Together we are far from perfect, but we are good. You complete me...Y/n M/n Napier become my queen?" My eyes glossed over with tears my make up running down the pale foundation. "Oh my god of course!!!" I jumped into his arms hugging him tightly before letting him slip on the ring. "I love you." "I love you more crazy." I chuckle it sounded watery in my throat. "If I'm crazy then that makes two of us. You wanted to marry me." Yep we're both batshit crazy.

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A/n: Quote= We are far from perfect, but we are good. ~Supernatural

Is it just me or does Jensen look fucking hot as Red Hood?! I'm mean he's definitely a reason to move to Gotham

Well first crossover AU in my bingo card

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ducktoonsfanart · 2 years

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Huey, Dewey and Louie's birthday and Easter party - Donald Duck, his family and his friends - Happy Easter!

I apologize to everyone for being late, but it is certainly not the end of Easter, which has just begun. I wish a happy Easter to all who celebrate it. Most Christians celebrate Easter on April 17, and Orthodox according to the Julian calendar only on April 24, so we entered Easter week.

Certainly, albeit belatedly, I also wish a birthday to the best triplets, Donald’s nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie. Although they celebrate April 15, this year Good Friday fell on that day, and that day is partly a sad day due to the death of Jesus Christ on the cross and who took away all earthly sins from this world. After three days, Jesus was resurrected and defeated death. And thus begins the celebration of Christian Easter, as a new life. Of course, it is addressed to those who believe. However, since I am a believer, I did not want to celebrate anything until Easter came.

So in this drawing you see Huey, Dewey and Louie celebrating their birthdays who are still preteens. Interestingly, their birthday, like my birthday, coincides with the Easter holidays. So I put it all together. They celebrated their birthday and celebrated Easter. Certainly besides them, Daisy’s nieces, April, May and June, are also celebrating their birthdays. This year will also be a jubilee for Donald's nephews, as this year they are celebrating the 85th anniversary of their first appearance in comics, and later in animation, and for Daisy's nieces, who are celebrating their 70th anniversary since their first appearance in comics. Yes, and Gyro is celebrating the 70th anniversary of his first comic book appearance this year. I also wish everyone a happy anniversary. Yes, Donald and Daisy, as a great couple, hug their children, that is, their nieces and nephews. Yes, the right parents for them.

Not to be outdone, you can see birthday eggs and Easter decorations here, and when it comes to colorful eggs, don't worry, they are mostly chocolate eggs wrapped in colorful ones. In addition to Donald, Daisy, HDL and AMJ, there are also Scrooge McDuck, Grandma Duck (Elvira Coot), Gyro Gearloose and his nephew Newton, Gus Goose, Abner Whitewater Duck, Gladstone Gander and his nephew Shamrock, Fethry Duck and his nephew Dugan, Dickie Duck (Goldie’s granddaughter), Brigitta MacBridge and her niece Loretta, Magica de Spell and her nieces Minima de Spell and Streghella de Spell and finally Scrooge’s butler, Albert Battista Quackmore. I wanted to add more characters like Goldie, Glomgold, Rockerduck and two or three more characters, but I wouldn't care about everything in this drawing. Sorry about this. Also, about the characters that not everyone sees best, I didn't hit a very good scale.

Of course, I drew this character from the Donald Duck comics (Carl Barks, Don Rosa, Romano Scarpa, Topolino, Italian comics and others) as my inspiration, because I enjoy it. I hope you like this drawing and once again I wish everyone a happy Easter!

Buona pasqua!

Frohe Ostern!

Feliz pascua!

Joyeuses Pâques!

Feliz Páscoa!

復活節快樂！

ハッピーイースター！

Hyvää pääsiäistä!

God påske!

Vrolijk Pasen!

Glad påsk!

Wesołych Świąt Wielkanocnych!

Boldog húsvéti ünnepeket!

Veselé Velikonoce!

And definitely happy birthday to Huey, Dewey and Louie!

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neil-neil-orange-peel · 2 years

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The thing I find funny about some of Rik's characters is there's moments the studio audience dont know whether to laugh at him or feel bad and you can hear their confusing. Like Richie in his birthday episode singing happy birthday to himself cause he has no friends and Alan crying in prison. The audience is all 'hahaha fuck you you little slimy shit....wait....wait...oh no he's making us feel bad, the fucker!'

I love it when comedy does that. Because comedy by its very nature makes people laugh, when the rug is suddenly pulled out from under the audience's feet, it's so much more effective.

The best example of this is and will always be the last episode of Blackadder, which completely broke my heart at 12 years old. 💔

I know it's trendy these days to despise laugh tracks or audience laughter, but I don't mind them. Obviously imposed laugh tracks are a little more grating, but studio audiences I don't have a problem with. I don't like the smug, self-satisfied view of "well actually no old comedies were funny at all, that's why they used a laugh track, to trick everyone into laughing in the right places". First of all, most British sitcoms had a live audience, so that's what we're hearing. In fact, The Young Ones deliberately takes the piss out of laugh tracks in the Dicky and Deano skit from Bomb. If real people who were actually there laughed as the events unfolded, that would suggest what was going on was funny. Also, suggesting it's only now in our 21st century wisdom that we've suddenly realised the pinnacle of humour, something our poor 20th century brethren were simply too easily swayed to ever discover, is so arrogant actually. Can people just appreciate different eras in comedy have different conventions!

Sorry to get on my high horse about it, that's just something that always niggles at me. A very middle class, wishy-washy teacher I had recited the view that old comedies weren't actually funny because of the presence of laughter, while looking directly at me, because he knew I liked Rik Mayall. Bastard. 😂

The only major downside to live audiences or laugh tracks in my opinion is when they block out some of the dialogue. Usually the actors work around this, but sometimes they're caught out. I mean, can you imagine how much more bleak Bottom would be without its studio audience? Red Dwarf, which started in 1988 and had its most recent outing in 2020, still uses a live studio audience (if I'm ever extraordinarily lucky, I'll win the ballot and get tickets to watch them film) because that's the right format for Red Dwarf. It wouldn't work in modern sitcoms with modern formats, but it worked for older, more theatrical sitcoms, and that's fine.

Anyway yeah, The New Statesman is especially good at making its audience uncomfortable at points. In s4e4 (the second episode about Nazis) there comes a point where Alan is doing his best imitation of Hitler, speech and stance wise, to get the Fourth Reich onside so he can steal their jewels. There is a moment (it's starts when he says: "For make no mistake, our entire civilisation is under assault!") when the audience just... Stops laughing. Because it's getting a bit real now; this is some of the worst stuff Alan says and it's deliberately reminiscent of Hitler. In 1992, people who'd lived through and remembered WW2 were still about. This tense moment is cleverly deflated - and the audience starts laughing again - when Alan accidentally says "the cream of mushroom soup" instead of "the cream of right wing youth".

The audience also doesn't quite know how to react to Alan crying the night before his hanging, because Rik was so bloody good at playing distressed. I remember first watching that scene and being shocked in an "oooh" kind of way, because even though it's all for the lols, I don't think the way the public in TNS react to a live hanging is a million miles away from how people would in real life. I mean, all sorts used to go on at public hangings in centuries past. And it's horrifying, but you can't look away.

Richie gets "aww"ed at, at various points in Bottom. So does Neil in TYO. When this happens onstage as opposed to onscreen, Rik and Nigel (in character as Neil) heckle back at the audience. 😂 Because they know this will actually make them laugh even more. There's a reason a lot of people's favourite bits from the Bottom Lives are when they fuck up (or pretend to fuck up, either way it's funny).

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #anon #laughter #sitcoms

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ducklooney · 4 months

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Dickie Duck and Gyro Gearloose - Ducks on the Road - Gift for my friend

Although I'm late, I certainly started a special with this that will last for the next two weeks on the occasion of the Christmas and New Year holidays. And that of loving couples under the mistletoe, the Christmas plant under which you should kiss your loved one. :D

Yes, on December 18, 1966, writer and artist Romano Scarpa writes the comic "The Miner's Granddaughter", where Goldie's granddaughter Dickie Duck appears for the first time. Dickie is especially represented in the Italian and Brazilian comics and is very friendly. However, it has a special role in the 2014 comic Ducks On The Road, written by Teresa Radice and drawn by Stefano Turconi. Yes, in the times of the 1960s and 1970s when disco is emerging, Dickie, Daisy and Gyro form their own music band and go around the USA in search of fame. Of course, the dynamic between Dickie and Gyro is particularly significant. And that's why I drew them based on the model from that comic, as a couple in love. Yes, it's not the first time I draw this, I drew them last year, where you can see the previous drawing here (although it didn't turn out very well for me): https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/682520045873774592/ducks-on-the-road-daisy-duck-gyro-gearloose-and

Yes, this is a gift for my friend @flowervanband, who adores this love couple, as well as a belated birthday present. I hope you like this gift. And I drew something related to Dickie's birthday. Happy birthday Dickie! Also, happy holidays!

If you like this drawing, feel free to like and reblog this. And happy birthday to Dickie Duck!

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thyramalie · 4 years

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Royal engagement

During a month-long stay at Balmoral late in the summer of 1946, Philip proposed to Elizabeth, and she accepted on the spot, without even consulting her parents. Her father consented on the condition that they keep their engagement a secret until it could be announced after her twenty-first birthday the following April. Like the princess, Philip didn’t believe in public displays of affection, which made it easy to mask his feelings. But he revealed them privately in a touching letter to Queen Elizabeth in which he wondered if he deserved “all the good things which have happened to me,” especially “to have fallen in love completely and unreservedly.”

On 10 July 1947, the engagement of Princess Elizabeth and Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten was formally announced from Buckingham Palace:

It is with the greatest pleasure that the King and Queen announce the betrothal of their dearly beloved daughter The Princess Elizabeth to Lieutenant Philip Mountbatten, RN, son of the late Prince Andrew of Greece and Princess Andrew (Princess Alice of Battenberg), to which union the King has gladly given his consent.

“One day she poked her head into my room looking absolutely radiant... 'He's coming tonight,' she said, and then she kissed me and danced away. Next morning was Wednesday, July the ninth. Lilibet came to my room much earlier than usual. I have never seen her look lovelier than she did on that day, not even on her wedding morning. She wore a deep yellow frock, a shade that has always suited her very well. She closed the door behind her and held out her left hand. Her engagement ring sparkled there. It was a large square diamond with smaller diamonds either side. At the same time it was too large for her, and it had to go back to be made smaller. It was a ring they had chosen secretly, but of course she had been unable to go and try it on.”

“In fact, neither Lilibet nor Philip had been able to choose the ring personally. Philip's mother Alice, currently in London, undertook the task. She had managed to reclaim her own jewellery - deposited for safety's sake at an English bank in Paris in 1930 - and took a selection of her diamonds to a jeweller's in Old Bond Street, 'as Philip dared not show his face at jewellers,' she explained to her brother, Dickie, 'for fear of being recognised. I think the ring is a great success.'”

“The betrothal was announced on 9 July, because a Buckingham Palace garden party was scheduled for the 10th and the young couple could make their first public appearance there. Alice sent a happy report to Dickie: 'It amused me very much to be waiting with the rest of the family, for Philip to come down grandly with Bertie, Elizabeth & Lilibet. The young couple made their rounds of the garden alone, accompanied by the court people & received ovations from the guests. This morning the two came alone to visit Mama, who was delighted as she is very fond of Lilibet & likes her character very much.'”

“'He was completely in love with her, absolutely.' said Mike Parker. John Brabourne agreed: 'It was a love-match, certainly.' Princess Alice told her brother: 'He was so excited he hardly knew what he was doing.'”

'Philip used to speak to me about Princess Elizabeth before they were engaged. He was extremely fond of her, always. He said, 'I think we could do a lot together.' said Lady Gina Kennard

#queen elizabeth ii #prince philip

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kerwritesthings · 3 years

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Sunshine Surprise

Summary: Birthdays deserve over the top decadence

Word Count: just a hair over 1k

Warning: stupid soft silly fluffy fluff fluff

Author Notes: Little birthday surprise for @miracleonice87 - Happy, happy birthday M! :) Something for that other stupid boy of ours who has been dearly missed. I hope you enjoy the day and this little nifty gifty.

Words have been hard, life has been hard - but used this happy day as a little bit of a nudge to at least try. It fell back into lockstep.

A tiny peek in on Tyler and Clementine not too far after the first, Orange Blossom At The Bottom Of A Shot Glass. I guess three stories actually makes a verse now right? I need to get a hockey masterlist started. Also please to enjoy this photo which just solidified that I picked the right thing to write.

“Em. Why did I have to find out from Dicky that your birthday is coming up?” Tyler asks cautiously as his face pops through on FaceTime.

“Hi, how are you? I’m good. It’s been a busy day,” you tease as he groans.

“You’re just gonna dish the sass today straight out before you even answer me?” he questions.

“Tyler, we’ve been on a grand total of five and a half actual dates, it’s only been like what – just three weeks since we said we’re in on this as a dating thing? And yeah, we were friends before, but I wasn’t sure if we were that good of friends, you know?” you bite your lip. “Also, how the hell does Dicky even know?”

“Half?” he laughs. “When the hell was a half?”

“Lunch with me, you and Dicky does not count at all,” you explain. “Half is me coming to the first game and dinner and drinks with the boys after.”

“Ok yeah, I guess that’s fair. But we have been at least friends for a good clip. Plus, dates and times don’t matter like that with us at least for me, I’m one hundred percent in on this. I’m stuck on you, babygirl,” he starts. “So, back to the task at hand. When’s the big day Emmy? Birthdays are a big deal around here. I think his better half mentioned something about trying to do brunch but didn’t want to interrupt any birthday plans.”

“Beginning of next month, the fifth it’s a Friday. It’s at the very end of the big western swing. Alandra asked about doing brunch while you guys were gone, she found this pop up that was kicking off that weekend. Wasn’t sure what the final travel plans were for you guys,” you reply. “So, we can do something when you get back. We have time to figure things out. You guys need to get out of Chicago and St. Louis with some points and in one piece first.”

The conversation wanders from there, until he had to catch his pre-game nap. His yawn is a perfect time break.

“Go get your rest, Tyler. Play hard tonight, I’ll be watching,” you blow him a kiss.

Tyler runs a hand through the mess of his hair after the call disconnects, he’s got plans to start making once they get through Chicago. He starts a list before he begins to doze off.

It wasn’t so much the flowers that are delivered promptly at 7:45 in the morning on your birthday, as stunning and lovely as they are, it’s the card that’s attached with it. Surprises begin now babygirl, happy happy birthday Will be cashing in on giving you all birthday kisses later Emmy and I can’t wait

“What the hell is he up to?” you murmur as the doorbell rings again.

“Special delivery birthday girl,” Alandra calls out a Cheshire cat-like grin forming before leaning in for a hug. “I am here as special envoy!”

She hands you a small gift bag that just screams pulled together by Tyler, colorful and loud and just a little messy. Inside the gift is a bit of a puzzle: a luggage tag, a tiny squeaky palm tree and a new pair of your favorite Ray-Bans, exactly like the ones you were complaining that you needed to replace.

“What the fuck?” your eyebrows knit down. “He wouldn’t…”

“You better get packing, I’m your ride to the airport,” she exclaims, wrapping you in another hug.

“Airport? What?” you shake your head. “Alandra, are you serious?”

“Go, we’ve got to leave here by 9 to get you to the airport in time. There’s coffee waiting for you in the car,” she pushes you out of the living room.

As you’re digging out your weekender bag from the closet, you yell at Alexa to make a phone call.

“Happy birthday Emmy. I’ll spare you from singing for now, we’ll do that later,” Tyler says, voice bright.

“Are you fucking crazy?” you volley at him, tossing things onto the bed in the direction of your open bag.

“Just about you babygirl,” he sasses back.

“How I just, when and what the hell Tyler,” you sigh as you plop down on the edge of your bed, overwhelmed and surrounded by a flurry of clothes.

“I wasn’t letting you spend your birthday alone. It’s the last game of the trip and it’s LA. We’re doing well enough in this stretch. Well enough that Bones is letting me fly back with you tomorrow night and we’ve got a late skate on Monday. It just made sense to try. So, we’ll have tonight after the game, which is already planned, then we can figure out what we want to do tomorrow but we should hit the beach at the very least. Flight back is just on the border of a redeye, so we have the whole day.”

“Ty. I was thinking dinner when you got back, maybe me finally dragging you to that art gallery I was telling you about. That would have been enough, just time with you. You know I don’t need all this right? That’s not why, it’s not…” you trail off.

“It’s exactly why I’m doing it, Emmy,” you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “Let me do something absolutely ridiculous to celebrate you, ok?

“You’re still crazy but thank you Tyler. Really, this is just beyond,” you exhale.

“Barring any delays, you’ll get here just as we’re getting back from morning skate so I’m stealing you for pregame nap and cuddles,” you can just picture his smile as he says it. “Go pack. Bring something semi fancy for tonight after the game and then maybe anything pretty for me to enjoy, cause it’s your birthday and well you know, you want to thank me for all this.”

“You would Ty, you absolutely would,” you chuckle, thinking of what you could bring for that very reason. “But really, this is amazing. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours, birthday girl.”

#Tyler Seguin #hockey fic #hockey imagine #tyler seguin fic #tyler seguin fluff #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin writing

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celestialinent · 3 years

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someday it will fit just right

on ao3

In 2 years, Steve would spend his first night truly hungry. In 5 years, he would stand in a cold little cemetery and bury his mother. In 8 years, he would deliver food to the silent Barnes family as they sat shiva. In 11 years, he would go into a tiny metal box and come out a freak. In 14 years, he would die.

But on April 17th, 1931, Steve Rogers woke up to Sarah Rogers singing in her clear voice, thrilled to celebrate her only son’s 13th birthday.

He and Fiona stumbled out from behind the thick curtain that cut the little nook at the far side of the flat where he slept. There were boxty and eggs on the table, and Ma wasn’t even tired, because she had three days off all in a row. He was still young enough not to question the luck. He wasn’t aware that Sarah had begged and traded with the other nurses to get the days, promising to work shifts no one wanted, knowing it would hurt their purse at the end of the month and doing it anyway to make her boy happy.

“Stiofán,” she greeted him, and Steve smiled. She only called him by his Irish name when she was in the best moods, and as he got older and the trouble he got up to got more bloody, that name was used less and less.

Fiona always slept as a cougar, because her furry bulk was the best thing to keep him warm in their drafty flat, but she usually changed before they even got out of bed. Big cats might be good for keeping little boys with dicky lungs, but they weren’t so good for navigating the tight space of the Rogers’s home. She didn’t change this morning, however.

Steve sent her a frown, even as he sidestepped her to get to the table.

Aodhan, perched on a rickety wooden chair to Sarah’s left, watched the pair with his intelligent brown eyes.

“How’s my wee man?” Sarah asked when Steve had sat. Fiona came to rest next to him, her big head almost as high as his. “Any big plans for today?”

Steve blushed. “Bucky and I were gonna go to the park,” he answered. But they’d planned that ages ago, before Ma had gotten the days off. And they were really only going because Bucky had heard from Teddy Russo that Theresa and Dot Bianchi would be there with their older sister Valentina. Bucky was absolutely dizzy for just about every girl in the Bianchi family.

To be honest, Bucky was dizzy for all the girls. He was 14 this year, and apparently, his Uncle Isaac had told Bucky that that was the age that “everything started to make sense” with girls. Whatever in the Sam-Hell that meant.

“We don’t have to, though,” Steve said. And he meant it. Spending a few hours watching Bucky watching dames didn’t sound like any fun, and it was his birthday, so if he told Bucky he wanted to do something else he wouldn’t be sore at him. “Bucky could just bring the girls over and we could play games or something.”

Even if Steve didn’t think spending his 13th birthday with Bucky’s little sisters was the best way to celebrate he wouldn’t want to exclude them. Bucky hated dragging Becca and Judy and Rachel along when they went places, but Steve thought the girls were just swell. He’d never had a sister or a brother, and never would most likely, so the novelty was nice.

Steve’s Ma just smiled. “No, no. You and Bucky should go. Bein’ thirteen is important, a leanbh . Before we know it you’ll be old and won’t get to spend all your time with Bucky Barnes.”

Steve wrinkled his nose. “Bucky and me’ll always spend time together, Ma,” he promised. “We’re friends forever.”

What was meant to be a reassurance, however, seemed to kill his Ma’s grin. She sent him a soft, sad look before tucking into breakfast. “I hope so, Stiofán. But don’t think you won’t get old.”

“I’m only thirteen, Ma!” Steve protested. Fiona leaned her head against his side sympathetically, and the weight of her sent him listing to the side for a moment.

“Fi, stoppit!” he giggled. “Why’re you so big?”

Fiona, looking contrite, seemed to shiver in her skin like she always did when she was trying to change shape. But instead of bursting into the air as a pigeon, or scurrying up his arm as a squirrel, she remained solidly feline and solidly big. Steve frowned, tipping his head forward to peer at her.

Aodhan and Ma both laughed. Steve turned a sharp, worried look to his mother.

“What?” he asked. Turning back, he said, “Fi, what’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, a leanbh ,” Ma breathed. “What did I say?”

Fiona giggled. “I can’t! Stevie!”

It took Steve a bit too long to understand the situation, but when he did he turned an incredulous stare on Fiona. “You settled so big ,” he laughed.

“Bit inconvenient,” Aodhan muttered behind his shaggy russet mustache, but he was grinning his doggy grin, as overjoyed as Sarah was.

“The size of a daemon doesn’t depend on the size of the person,” Ma reminded him. Steve knew that. He knew that Mr. Tonks, hulking as he was, had a little rabbit daemon, and everyone in the world knew that Marlene Dietrich’s daemon was a honking big bear, something the newspapers always thought was real funny.

“Boys at school are gonna have a field day,” Steve told her anyway. Nobody but Bucky seemed to understand why Steve walked around with a mountain lion for a daemon most of the time. Now that she’d settled, he could just imagine how they’d tease.

“The boys at school are silly little idiots,” Aodhan grumbled.

That sent Fiona and Steve into a fit of giggles that carried them through breakfast.

***

He’d been right about the boys at school.

When words got around that Steve’s daemon had settled, Tommy Wies came over to him at lunch as asked him if he thought it was funny that his daemon was four times the size of him.

Miriam, lounging at Bucky’s feet as a german shepherd, snarled at him, and Tommy laughed it off but he didn’t say another word to Steve all day. Unfortunately, Bucky couldn’t be around forever, and after last period, when Steve was gathering his papers from arithmetic, Bobby and Tony Gottardo ambled over.

The three of them exchanged some words, and it all ended with Bucky finding Steve getting his lights knocked out of him in front of the school. Fiona was snapping and yowling at the Gottardo’s daemons, and Bucky had to wade in and break the fight up with a solid-looking kick to Tony’s keister.

“God, some of these eye-talians really are dumb,” Bucky huffed after the boys had beat feet down the sidewalk. “How many times I gotta lay them out flat before they leave well enough alone?”

Steve sent Bucky a dark look. “You didn’t lay anyone out, Buck. Tony and Bobby are just babies.”

Bucky scoffed. “Maybe not that time, but last time, I made Bobby bleed so bad I just about called a doctor so’s I didn’t have to go on the lam.”

Fiona snorted. “You did no such thing,” she told him imperiously.

Miriam perked up. “If you asked Bobby, he just about got murdered in that fight.”

The four of them ambled their way back home, About halfway to Bucky’s flat, where they were stashing their school stuff and cleaning up before heading over to the park-Steve couldn’t very well go home now, not with a bloody nose-Miriam turned to Steve and Fiona and eyed them.

“What’s it like?” she asked.

It was crystal what she was asking. Miriam, even though Bucky was a year older, still hadn’t settled.

Fiona shrugged her big furry shoulders. “Boring, but nice. Feels right, like a pair of shoes that I’ve had few ages, so they fit real good. But I think I’ll miss flying.”

“Shoulda settled as a big bird,” Bucky laughed. “A bald eagle, or something. Or a hawk, to go with that big nose.”

Steve shoved at Bucky playfully. “Well, then Miriam should settle as a pig, to go with your nose.”

Bucky, vainer than Steve by a mile, reeled back, patting at his nose like he was checking that it was still as perfect as ever. He scowled when that sent Steve laughing.

“Fi shoulda been an elephant, to match your ears!”

“Miriam could settle as a beaver so you could have matching buck teeth,” Steve shot back, still laughing.

Bucky huffed, but Steve knew he wasn’t that sore.

They spent the rest of the walk joking and fooling around, and when they barrelled into the Barnes flat, Bucky had Steve under his arm, mussing up his hair with his knuckles.

Mrs. Barnes started fussing as soon as she saw Steve’s face, but luckily she didn’t threaten to tell his Ma, trusting that Steve wouldn’t hide it from her. She did make him sit at the dining room table, though, and allow her to clean him up a little. She didn’t have his Ma’s practice at nursing, but she’d raised Bucky, and the frequency with which her son was being pulled into scraps meant she was no slouch. Amos chittered the entire time, scolding them all for fighting just like he always did. The boys and their daemons ignored him, as they always did.

“The only thing I have to give you for your birthday is some advice, Steven,” Mrs. Barnes said lightly. “Stay out of trouble!”

Steve offered her a beatific smile, the smile he offered to teachers and shopkeepers and Mrs. Barnes whenever he was trying to pretend he wasn’t an absolute scoundrel. It drove Bucky up the walls; he called it his saintly smirk. “I try, Mrs. Barnes. Trouble just always seems to find me!”

Mrs. Barnes and Amos hmmphed in unison, and Bucky snorted.

“Bucky, I expect you back home in time for supper. It might be Steven’s birthday, but you still have school tomorrow.”

“Yes, Ma,” Bucky and Steve chorused. She scowled and shooed them out of the house.

Steve shook his head. “She didn’t even notice Fiona’s settled,” he scoffed. “Guess Steve Rogers walking around with a puma for a daemon is just common sense to her.”

“Sure it is, pal,” Bucky drawled easily. “You may be short, but you’re just about the loudest guy I know. You’re bigger inside than out, is all. You ain’t no mouse.”

“What do you think you’ll settle as?” Fiona asked Miriam, who’d taken Fiona’s new size as an opportunity to be lazy, and shifted into a strange little lizard, riding on her back. She had the air of a haughty little queen that way, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at the smug little lizard smile she was sporting.

Miriam was quiet for a moment as she and Bucky shared a thoughtful look.

“A dog, probably,” Bucky answered first. “Most folks have dog daemons.”

Fiona shook her head. “You’re not most.”

Steve blushed a little at that. Bucky wasn’t most folks. Bucky was brave and handsome and kind and strong. Bucky talked a big game about how Steve was bigger on the inside, but honestly, Steve thought Bucky’s beautiful outside matched his insides. It was no wonder that all the girls at school had started taking real long looks at Steve’s best friend. There was something about the air around Bucky when he got real excited about a new song. When he laughed it was like his whole face opened up and you could see the damn sun shining out his eyes.

Miriam would settle as something even grander than a mountain lion. She’d be a real noble bird, maybe, because of Bucky’s sharp eyes, or a peacock cause of how nice his face was. Or maybe a wolf, like James Connolly had had.

“A horse, maybe,” Miriam said.

It was funny, because Steve couldn’t see that at all. Miriam had never been a horse in her life. Hell, none of them had ever seen a horse in their lives. But Steve was picturing Bucky astride a huge destrier, dressed like a knight, and it made him laugh so hard he almost gave himself an asthma attack. “You are a real horse’s ass,” he gasped.

“Maybe I’ll be something real strange,” Bucky said, and he was still smiling, but it looked pained. “Something odd, that’ll scare off anyone tryin’ to give us a hard time.”

Miriam shivered, shifting rapidly. She was a spider first, fearsome and black, before she draped over Fiona’s back as a big brown snake. It was followed by a strange hairless cat, a blind and eerie bat. Finally, Miriam clambered to Fiona’s rump, a brown little thing with huge, luminous golden eyes. Her small triangle ears sat at the sides of her head like horns, and a long tail that curled over her chest.

Steve blinked. “What are you?” he asked. Miriam only stared up at him.

“So one in a book of daemons once. Like a monkey, sorta. Strange, right?” Bucky murmured.

“She’s beautiful, Buck,” Steve assured him. “Very beautiful.”

Bucky shrugged and picked up his pace like he was eager to see the Bianchi sisters. Like the discussion was unimportant.

Steve felt distinctly that he’d missed something in the exchange, and Bucky was disappointed in him.

#steve rogers #stucky #steve/bucky #daemons #daemon au #my fic

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

Text

Shadows of the Neon Lights - fic

Characters: Jason Todd, Damian Wayne Summary: He didn’t know what was more surprising - that someone else had come after him, or that it was Jason Todd, of all people, trying to stop him from killing. A/N: For Patreon supporter Leydy! Happy birthday sweet human, and thank you for all your support and kindness! You’re amazing! This is obviously some time after the Teen Titans Annual 2 confrontation/after Ric and Alfred’s death.

He had the man right where he wanted. A wannabe serial killer who hadn’t found his stride yet, but already killed three sex workers. Each in a different way, so no one had found the connection yet.

But Damian had.

He’d followed him for days, and now he had him next to the dumpster behind the strip joint he was casing for his next victim.

The man was sniveling and crying. Begging for his life as Damian pressed the dagger against his throat.

Damian didn’t care. This bastard deserved it.

So he smiled, and pulled the knife back. Then spun it to grasp it in his fist, aimed it to plunge right into the man’s chest.

One less scumbag in the world.

But right as he began to drop his hand, a gunshot rang out, and the blade shattered in his fingers.

The man shrieked, and Damian jumped back with a curse. He glanced over as the Red Hood strolled out of the alleyway, dramatically blowing the smoke from his gun’s barrel.

“What’d he do?” Jason asked carefully, removing his helmet.

“Killed three women. Staking out a fourth.” Damian snapped. “But that doesn’t matter to you, he’s my ki-”

Jason’s gun went off again. The man jerked once, then collapsed to the ground, a hole between his eyebrows.

“Not your kill.” Jason hummed. “Robin doesn’t have kills.”

“In case you haven’t heard.” Damian drawled, kicking at the now-dead man’s leg as he stepped over him. “I’m not Robin anymore.”

“Yeah, B told me.” Jason shrugged, and that seemed to just make Damian more annoyed. “What’s up with that?”

Damian scoffed, crossed his arms and turned to look down the alley behind him. “Like you care.”

“I do, actually. You’re my kid brother, whether either of us like it or not.” Jason countered. “And even I’m not so stubborn as to ignore the fact that we’ve all been through a lot lately. It takes a toll.” Jason glanced down at him. “And no one’s checked in with you about it all, have they?”

Damian refused to look at him. “You said Father told you.”

“He did. But I don’t take his word for anything.” Jason smirked. “…I do believe him on the you not being Robin anymore, and also going on a killing spree thing, though.”

“It’s not a spree.” Damian hissed. “It’s what needs to be done.”

“But not by you.” Jason argued. “I thought Dickie got you off that path.”

Damian turned away from him completely now.

“…Ah. So Bruce was telling the truth.” Jason murmured. “This really is about what happened to Dick and Alfred.”

Damian didn’t answer. Stared down at the dead body.

“What happened wasn’t your fault.” Jason promised. Then he lowered his voice. “Especially not to Alfred.”

“I was there. I should have done something.” Damian whispered.

“You were tied up and unconscious.” Jason tried, stepping forward. “What were you supposed to do?”

“Fight back. Literally, anything.” Damian returned. “But what I didn’t do then, I’m doing now.”

“Killing them before they hurt too many, or anyone else.” Jason nodded. “In their honor, right?”

“I suppose.”

“You weren’t there for Dick’s situation.” Jason crossed his arms now too. Thoughtfully. “How were you supposed to stop that one?”

“Killed KGBeast when he became a known player.” Damian decided. “He would have been dead years ago, so unavailable to take the mission.”

“Sure, then someone else would have been asked to do it.” Jason sniffed. “And then they might have been a better shot.”

Damian didn’t respond to that. Didn’t move. Jason glanced him over, checked for any injuries or illness. Kid seemed fine at a glance. Just dirty, clothes starting to wear out. A few new holes that probably weren’t there when he started this little crusade.

Jason sighed.

“They wouldn’t want this for you, Damian.” Jason whispered. “Alfred or Dick.”

“Well, they’re not here to stop me, are they?” Damian snapped. His arms were still crossed, but now he seemed to bend in on himself. Hug himself.

“No, they’re not.” Jason agreed. “But I am.”

That made Damian turn around in surprise.

“And yes, before you whine about it, I’m fully aware it makes me a hypocrite.” Jason raised his hands in defense. “But we’ve lost enough this year. Excuse me if I’m not keen on adding you and your morality to that damn list.”

“…It’s what needs to be done.” Damian murmured sadly. “And Batman refuses to do it. That’s why, after all these years he’s been active, Gotham is still a hellhole. That’s why he loses those he claims to love time after time after damn time.”

Jason nodded. “Then I’ll do it. Not you.”

“I’m the most equipped to handle it!” Damian shouted now, stomping back at him. “I’ve been trained to do just this for my entire life!”

“And you shouldn’t have been!” Jason yelled back. “Talia should have protected you. Dick should have protected you better. Bruce should have talked to you about all this before he realized you’d already reached your fucking breaking point!”

“So then what else do you want me to do?!” Damian almost begged, tears welling up in his eyes. “Sit at home with the rest of you and grieve? Keep doing everything I was, like the only two people who ever cared about me weren’t ripped out of my life for no reason?!”

“I want you to slow down.” Jason said, tone instantly softer as he took hold of Damian’s shoulders. “I want you to let us take care of you.”

“Well I want to make sure no one goes through what we have.” Damian mumbled in return, the fight instantly leaving his system. “…What I have.”

“And I get that. I do.” He smiled and gestured to himself. “I mean, hello? I totally understand.” He let his smile drop. “But before we take care of everyone else, why don’t we try taking care of you first?” He paused for a second, squeezed Damian’s arms. “Why don’t we do it together?”

Damian just stared at him. “I can take care of myself.”

“Sure. Totally. So can I.” Jason winked. “But humour me. Just this once.”

Damian glanced down at Jason’s hands on his arms. “…You’re not going to let me go until I agree, will you?”

“You were taught better than to let your enemies get too close, remember?” Jason smiled.

Damian sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why do you care so much, Todd? What does it matter to you what I do?”

“Because as surprising as it may be, I don’t want you to end up like me.” Jason said honestly. A little too honestly for Damian’s taste. “You deserve better than… this.”

Damian looked him up and down. “…No I don’t.”

“A debate we can have later.” Jason laughed. “So, what do you say? Will you come home with me?”

Damian immediately jerked back in his hold, almost tripping over the dead body that Jason practically forgot was there. “No. No way.” He said immediately. “I am not going back to the manor.”

“Slow your roll, kiddo, you didn’t let me finish!” Jason called, reeling him back in. “You know I don’t live at the manor. When I say home, I mean come back to my home. A safehouse outside the city.”

Damian hesitated at that, eyeing Jason warily.

“I won’t even tell B that I found you, or that you’re with me.” Jason promised. “And I know you’re already itching to run. So at the very least, let me take you back to my place, get you a hot meal, a shower, and one decent night’s sleep. Then we’ll talk for real after that. Okay?”

Damian tilted his head, glancing up at the strip club in thought.

And it was a 50-50 chance that it would work. It could make the kid collapse in tears, or convince him to pull out that second knife Jason knew he had hidden on him and stab it into Jason’s throat. But he had to try. He had to.

“…It’s what Dick and Alfie would want you to do.”

To his surprise, Damian didn’t react immediately. Still kept his eyes upwards as he thought. Then, finally, he lowered his gaze to Jason. He blinked slowly, and Jason only now realized how tired the kid looked. Sad.

Lonely.

“Fine.” Damian said quietly after a moment. “I will take your food.”

Jason hadn’t realized his heart was tight with tension until it loosened at his words. He smiled and ruffled the kid’s hair as he stood, sliding his other hand down Damian’s arm until their fingers tangled together.

Damian didn’t even try to let go.

Jason glanced back at the dead man – who did deserve it, Damian wasn’t wrong about that – and made sure there was nothing around the body that would implicate Damian at least. When he saw nothing, he nodded and tugged the kid along behind him in the alleyway.

“Have any preference for dinner?”

“…Anything edible, I suppose.” Damian muttered thoughtfully. As if on cue, his stomach rumbled lightly. Jason smiled sympathetically.

“Well, that rules out anything I know how to cook.” Jason joked. He heard Damian snort a laugh behind him. That was as good a start as any. “So how about we find some nice, greasy takeout instead?”

Damian squeezed his hand, and Jason took that as silent gratitude. A thanks he was too embarrassed to admit. “That sounds perfect.”

#Damian Wayne #Jason Todd

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